#ANYWAYS i haye being like this i need a new brain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rawmeanderson · 4 years

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pretty please ― saturday.

ft. Kevin Hayes plot: with Kevin, Brady, and Jimmy all gone from New York and the new season about to start, everyone gets together for a long weekend. warnings: swearing, drinking, body issues, soft Nolan Patrick content. there’s quite a bit of smut in this tbh. word count: 8.6k many thanks to @danglesnipecelly for proof reading and putting up with my ridiculous typos

THURSDAY / FRIDAY You didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning and never feeling like you actually got beyond dozing. Guilt was eating at you, even as you slept, and at one point, you opened your eyes and saw the first bits of daylight peaking through the window. There was a certain numbness to you, as when you rolled over, trying to get back to sleep, you realized you were parched.

Sitting up, you stretched for a moment before getting out of bed. You felt like running. Not like, physically running, but running away from the cabin, from the conversation you were going to avoid for as long as you could. When you checked your phone, you saw that it was barely 7:00am, and you yawned, forcing yourself out of bed anyway. A walk might do you some good, let you wear off some of this anxious energy so you could get more sleep later.

You changed out of your pjs and into a pair of jean shorts and a clean shirt, stuffing your feet into your sandals as you went across the hall to brush your teeth. Your hair was an absolute mess, but you just tied it up in a bun, deciding to deal with it later.

To say you tiptoed past Kevin’s door on the way to the living room was an understatement. You wondered if he was awake, or if he’d woken up at all in the night and realized you’d left. Your palm itched as your eyes settled on the doorknob, shoving down the urge to go inside and slip into bed with him, but you kept moving.

The living room and kitchen were empty when you got there, and the cabin seemed peaceful despite the way your brain was running wild. You got yourself a glass of water, leaning back against the cabinet as you sipped at it. Really, you were poised to sprint out the door if you heard any sign of Kevin, your shoulders tense as your heart thundered in your chest. Coffee was already brewing, so someone had to be up already.

You heard voices a moment later, the sound of footsteps, and just as your fight or flight instincts had you ready to bolt, you realized that it was Nolan and the friend of Jimmy’s whose name you never remembered coming out of the garage. They had fishing poles in their hand, among other things, and Nolan nodded to you in acknowledgement.

“Morning,” you said, refilling your glass of water as Nolan put down the things in his hands to reach for a mug from the cabinet. He kind of grumbled in response, and you didn’t take it personally as he filled the mug with coffee. “Are you guys going fishing? Like, off the boat?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” no name responded, nodding as he got a cup of coffee for himself.

“Can I come?” you asked before you really thought about it. “I mean, I won’t fish, I’ll just sit there and read. I’ll even keep my mouth shut so I don’t scare away the fish or whatever.” What better way to avoid the problem you created than by sitting in the middle of the lake for a few hours.

The two guys looked at each other and shrugged. “Yeah, that’s fine, I guess. We’ll be out there for a few hours,” Nolan said, sipping at his coffee as he shrugged again. “We’re leaving in a few.”

You nodded, finishing your glass of water. “Alright, cool,” you responded, deciding that the awkwardness of a silent fishing trip with two people you barely knew was better than the chance of running into Kevin in the next few hours. “I’m gonna grab some stuff from my room, I’ll meet you guys down at the water.”

When you ran to grab your sunglasses and your iPad from your room, the rational whisper in the back of your mind told you this was a dumb idea, that you needed to put on your big girl panties and deal with it. You were too panicked to listen to yourself though, and you tiptoed past Kevin’s door again on your way out of the cabin. Making your way down to the dock, you texted Sophie to tell her you were going out on the boat, and that Nolan and what’s his name were waiting for you.

No one said much as you settled yourself at the opposite end of the boat from them, putting your feet up as the boat pulled away from the dock. The sky was overcast, but you wore your sunglasses anyway, looking out at the water with a sigh. You opened your book on your iPad, but never really got around to reading. The guys decided on a fishing spot, and the boat came to a stop.

Your mind was cycling, thinking about what needed done at your apartment in the next few weeks ahead of Sophie moving out, thinking about the meeting you had to be in on Tuesday morning, thinking about almost anything besides the 6’5” man you’d slipped out on the night before. As soon as your mind even started to drift to him, you corrected course by thinking about something boring and menial.

After an hour on the water, you started to realize why people might enjoy fishing. None of you had said a word since leaving the dock, and if your mind wasn’t an anxiety ridden frenzy right now, you’d probably find being on the boat rather peaceful. Nolan had moved seats, sitting closer to your end of the boat as he cast his line into the water.

You finally did your best to start reading, but after reading the same page four times and still remembering none of it, you promptly gave up. Glancing at your phone, you remembered that your service was hit or miss on the water, and maybe that was a good thing. Feeling a little fidgety, you turned in your seat, leaning against the railing to look out at the water again. All you had to do was withstand another 32 hours or so of avoiding Kevin, then you and Sophie would be on your way home and you could go back to pretending he didn’t exist.

It was the sound of Nolan’s voice after a while that zapped you back to the present. When you looked at him, he was already watching you and you blinked.

“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” you asked, eyebrows raised. You could feel your cheeks warm as you straightened up in your seat.

“Uh, yeah. I asked if you were good, considering you’ve been staring at the same spot of nothing for close to 45 minutes,” he responded, actually chuckling a little bit. You didn’t want to believe you’d been staring off into space for that long, but you checked your phone and it had actually been longer.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what to say. Your response surely told him everything he needed to know, so you didn’t bother trying to act like you were having an awesome morning. “I’ll be okay.”

Nolan nodded, eyes moving back to watch the fishing line. You expected that to be the end of it, and you were already turning your head back to look out at the water again when he spoke. “Is this about Kevin?”

You froze, shoulders tense as you took a deep breath. Looking at him again, you were surprised by how direct he was about it. You hardly knew him, so you weren’t sure how much of your soul you were willing to bare to him in the middle of a lake.

“Kind of,” you said finally, looking down at your lap and picking a piece of invisible fuzz off your shorts. You were being truthful. Kevin was the immediate issue, but of course, it all stemmed back to the fact that you were about to be the last of the group left in New York.

Nolan was quiet, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he was trying to figure out what to do next. After a moment’s thought, he sighed, reeling in his fishing line before getting to his feet and moving closer to where you were sitting. That surprised you more than the fact that he was speaking to you to begin with, and you straightened up in your seat when you noticed that his brow was creased still.

“So, Kev’s probably gonna kill me for telling you all of this, but I don’t see much point in you both being miserable for the rest of the trip because you’re both too afraid to talk about your feelings,” he started, looking at you pointedly enough that you felt like a kid getting a talking to from their teacher. When you didn’t say anything to stop him, he continued.

“I met you two days ago, but I’ve known about you since my third conversation with Kevin. He talks about you all the time. The whole reason he invited me this weekend was because he wanted me to meet you. He invited a few others too, just to meet you, but they weren’t able to make it,” he told you, and you knew your eyes were wide as you listened to him.

“Well, hopefully I lived up to the hype,” you said, exhaling a breath of humorless laughter.

“I’m undecided, so far,” he responded, his tone flat as the corner of his mouth twitched up in a grin that put you a little more at ease. “He hasn’t gone on more than 2 dates with someone since he got to Philly because he compares them all to you. I know, because I live with him, and he whines about it constantly. I had to stop him from drunk dialing you about nine times last year, then he’d go on and on about how he just wanted to go up to New York and see you, and that he was happy to be in Philly because he was closer to you again. He misses you, and he’s crazy about you, but he’s either too fucking dumb to realize it or too scared to say anything to you about it.”

You ran your tongue along your teeth as you thought over what Nolan had said, and you were grateful that he’d paused to give you a chance to process all of it. The words had surprised you, that was for sure, but thinking back to yesterday and last night...he was never this sweet with you before. Sure, there’d been some light flirting here and there between hook ups, but he’d never seemed to want you this badly before. You thought back to the other night and what he’d said about the two of you dating. This was all stupid, you decided, and you didn’t really know what to think.

“From the things he’s said, I don’t think he fully realized how he felt about you until he was traded to Winnipeg, and then he didn’t know what to do about it,” Nolan said with pursed lips, like he somehow could read your mind.

You were grateful that your sunglasses were on, because you felt tears burning in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed, glancing out at the water again. You hated this feeling, the sinking in your stomach of not knowing what to do, not knowing how to fix the whole situation. Sniffling, you took another deep breath and looked at Nolan again.

“Well, since you’re obviously smarter than both of us, any advice on what to do?” you asked finally, your throat tight with the threat of tears. He looked pleased with the compliment, then continued.

“It’s so painfully obvious to everyone that you’re both waiting on the other to make the first more, so I say just talk to him. You know he’s a good dude, you know he just wants you to be happy, so you both just need to find the time to talk about what’s going on,” he said, shrugging again. Talking about things like this clearly wasn’t his strong suit, but you appreciated the effort that he was making to help you out.

Nodding, you looked down at your lap momentarily, checking your phone again. Sophie had texted you, saying Kevin was looking for you, followed by a sad face, asking what happened last night. You’d respond to those later, after you had time to process your emotions a little more.

“Thanks for this, really,” you said, hoping you sounded as sincere as you felt.

“You can thank me by getting him to shut up about how much he misses you,” Nolan told you, letting out a dry laugh. “I guess I get the hype, kind of, but Philly and New York are close enough that the only thing keeping you guys apart is the fact that you like to avoid each other instead of talking about it.” You snorted softly, glad to see that he at least had a sense of humor about it.

“I’m glad he had you at least, to whine to enough that you took matters into your own hands,” you told him and he gave you a genuine smile with a nod.

“I had a rough year too. Kev did a lot for me, so this is just me trying to repay him.”

You both fell silent then, looking out at the water. It was nearly 10:30 by then. You hadn’t read a single page of your book, but your mind wasn’t racing anymore. Now, the thought of talking to Kevin didn’t make you want to hide, and you decided that was a good start.

Half an hour later, the guys decided they’d had enough fishing and started packing up to head back. Despite your better attitude, nervousness fluttered in your stomach, but you knew you’d survive talking to Kevin, just like you had survived for the last year and a half of carrying around all of the feelings. You made a plan for yourself and felt good about it: get up to the cabin, shower, then find Kevin to fix the problem.

Your plan immediately went out the door when you realized that Kevin was already sitting on the dock waiting for you. When you looked at Nolan, you saw the corner of his mouth turn up slightly and you gather that he must’ve texted him that you guys were heading back. Nolan raised his eyebrows at you with a look that said ‘if you don’t figure this out, you’re dead to me,’ and you clenched your jaw.

The boat docked a minute later, and the guy who’s name you really should remember started toward the cabin while Nolan stood on the dock for a short moment, talking to Kevin before taking off as well. You stayed where you were as he stepped onto the boat, and when you took your sunglasses off, you realized that your hands were shaking. It was nice to better understand how he felt about you, but that didn’t stop the flood of emotions that rose in you when you looked at him.

Kevin looked tired, like he’d slept as poorly as you had, and a wave of guilt made your stomach churn. He stood there for a minute, hands in his pockets and neither of you really seemed to know what to say. “Can I sit down?” he asked eventually, nodding to the spot next to you.

You could feel your bottom lip quivering, and you nodded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah,” you managed to say without your voice breaking. When he sat down, he turned toward you slightly, close enough that his leg was touching yours. By the time you forced yourself to meet his eye, your vision was blurry with tears, your mouth drawn in a tight line.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he reached for your hand. The contact was all it took for the tears to spill over and you wiped at them quickly with your other hand.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, sniffling as you looked away from him. He squeezed your hand tightly, bringing the other up to cup your face, guiding you to look at him. “I’m sorry I left last night, I should’ve stayed.”

“Jesus, what did Nolan tell you? Why are you crying?” he asked, looking concerned as his thumb swept over your cheek.

“I’m just so sad,” you admitted, stifling a sob as you avoided his eyes. Your face was hot, because you were upset and because you were embarrassed by the fact that you were such a blubbering mess all of a sudden.

“What, about last night?” Now he really looked concerned, and it actually made you let out a breath of laughter as you shook your head. Kevin looked relieved by your reaction, and easily pulled you into his lap before you could say anything else. His arms were tight around you, holding you against his chest as he sighed quietly.

The way he was holding you made you feel so small and so secure, and you just stayed like that for a moment with your face pressed into his neck. “I’m just sad about everything right now, I guess,” you admitted, shifting enough to wrap your arm around him as well as you leaned into his chest. “I’m sad about Sophie again, I’m sad we’re all leaving tomorrow. I’m sad you got traded to begin with, and I’m sad I wasted a year and a half being too scared to talk to you.” Your voice was raw with emotion and tears started spilling down your cheeks again no matter how hard you tried to stop them.

“Why were you scared to talk to me?” he asked, his lips pressed to the top of your head. His hand moved over your back in a firm motion that was hypnotically soothing, making you feel safe to spill your heart out as he held you.

You sniffled, shrugging as you took a shuddering breath. “I just didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t know where we stood or how you felt. I don’t look like the girls you usually date, so I thought that whenever we hooked up that it had just been out of boredom, since it was always at the end of a night out. I figured you’d be too busy getting settled and I guess I felt like I cared more about you than you cared about me.” You felt bad admitting it after hearing what Nolan had had to say, and you couldn’t help the way your voice was shaking as you spoke.

Kevin’s hand slid along your jaw gently, bringing your face up to look at him. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. It was never out of boredom either, I spent so long trying to figure out how to get your attention,” he told you, practically whispering the words. He kissed you softly, his lips just barely brushing over yours. “I was scared to talk to you too, but I shouldn’t have let that stop me.”

Determined to stop crying, you wiped your eyes, already tilting your head enough to kiss him again. Your eyes moved over his face like you were committing it to memory, letting your knuckles drag over the stubble that covered his jawline. “And why on earth were you scared to talk to me?” you asked, your throat still tight even after the tears had stopped.

“Because you’ve always been way too cool and smart for me, and I was so close to finally working up the nerve to ask you out when I got traded,” he told you, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His fingers were still moving up and down your back in a way that made you want to press closer to him and just stay like that for the rest of the day. “Once I was in Winnipeg, I didn’t really know what to say to you either. I didn’t know what your feelings were about us, and I didn’t know how to even bring it up. I don’t think I even knew how badly I wanted there to be an us until I was already in Winnipeg. Since I wasn’t sure where I was going to end up once the season ended, it didn't feel fair to you to drag you into something long distance.”

“Then you signed to Philly,” you said softly, feeling tears fill your eyes again as your head settled on his shoulder.

“Yep, I signed to Philly, then each time I was in New York last summer, you never came around. I figured you had moved on or something, or that you hadn’t felt the same way to begin with.”

He kissed the top of your head and fell silent, both of you letting everything hang between you for a few moments. You still felt sad and angry with yourself, but at least him holding you like he was made it easier to let go of those feelings.

“What do we do now?” you asked eventually, though really you were content to stay there all day, soaking in the warmth of the sun and Kevin’s body. He seemed to be enjoying the contact as much as you were, and didn’t answer right away.

“Well, are you hungry?” He pulled back a little to look down at you, eyes sweeping over your tear stained face. You nodded quickly, realizing that it was nearly noon and you hadn’t eaten anything that morning. “There’s a restaurant down the road a bit, we can go get lunch if you want, and this is me making it clear that it would be a date.”

Snorting, you grinned, your hands coming up to cup his face. “I like that idea,” you said, kissing him softly. You only pulled back enough to look at him briefly, but his mouth found yours again, making you smile. “I want to take a shower first though, then we can go.”

“Good, you need it,” he responded, already laughing by the time you poked him in the ribs. Before you could shoot something snarky back, he kissed you again, harder this time to make you groan into his mouth. When you pulled back again, you got to your feet, knowing that otherwise, you’d never want to move.

Lunch was wonderful, honestly. After your shower, Kevin drove you to the restaurant, his arm stretched over the center console to hold your hand. As you ate, he told you about his favorite spots in Philly and about his teammates, and you talked about your family and the ongoing drama at your office. Admittedly, you had one too many mimosas, leaving you giggling as Kevin nudged your foot gently under the table.

As soon as you made it back to the cabin, Sophie was hugging you so tightly that it hurt. Jimmy eventually got her to let go and you laughed as she made you promise to sit with her at dinner. On the way back from lunch, you and Kevin had decided a nap was in order since you’d both slept like shit, and you let him pull you into his room with a grin.

The making out was kept to a minimum, both of you tired and full from lunch, but it still felt nice to curl up with him, knowing you had nothing else to be doing. With your head on his chest, he asked if you wanted to put a movie on or anything, and you just shook your head sleepily, pressing your face into his neck. His arm was around you, keeping you curled against him, and it occurred to you that this was the first time you’d fallen asleep with him. He kept kissing the top of your head like he was realizing the same thing, murmuring to you that you made him happy.

The sound of your phone vibrating beside you woke you up a few hours later. Kevin was still asleep, and you stretched as much as you could without disturbing him as you reached for your phone. It was Sophie, as nosey as ever, wanting to be filled in on how lunch had gone, and you grinned to yourself as you texted her back. You stayed put for a while, happy to be right where you were as Kevin continued to doze.

When he woke up, it was with a loud yawn, rolling onto his side and taking you with him. You laughed as he spooned you, immediately pressing his face into the back of his neck.

“Don’t go back to sleep,” you warned, rubbing your hand over his forearm where it was looped tightly around you.

“Why not?” he murmured, his voice deeper than usual and thick with grogginess.

“Because we’ll be up all night if we sleep too late,” you told him matter of factly, shivering as he nosed at your hairline lightly.

“Maybe I was planning to keep you up half the night anyway,” he countered. The laugh you let out bled into a soft moan as he tugged at your earlobe with his teeth gently. Your body leaned back against him more, just barely pressing your thighs together when arousal jolted through you.

“Jesus, Kev,” you said, enjoying the soft rumble of laughter that left him. You were both quiet for a moment after that, your heart racing as he alternated between kissing your skin and nuzzling against you.

“What time are you and Soph leaving tomorrow?” he asked, his hand sliding over your waist. He brushed his thumb against the band of your bra lightly, like he was trying to be casual about it and you grinned at the contact.

“Between 3 and 4, I think,” you responded, squirming as his hand slid over your stomach. Your breathing had quickened from the light touches, and if it didn’t feel so good, you would hate how easily he was able to turn you on.

“Good.” The word was short, and he said it as his fingers toyed with the button of your shorts. His mouth was still against your neck and you could feel him smirking into your skin. Your mouth was dry, your heart fluttering in your chest as your hips pressed back toward him. You murmured his name impatiently, enjoying that you could feel the hardening outline of his dick against your ass, when a knock at the door made you both jump.

“Kevin, stop hogging Y/N for yourself!” Sophie said from the other side of the door, voice slightly raised as she knocked again. You let out a loud laugh, leaning back against him as he sighed.

“Finders keepers, Sophie!” he responded as he loosened his hold on you.

“We’ll be out in a minute, chill, Soph,” you said finally, your heart still racing from the touches that surely would’ve gone further had you not been interrupted.

Sophie’s response was to walk away, and you laughed as you sat up. You knew your cheeks were flushed and your hair was probably a mess from your nap, but you were smiling as you looked back at Kevin who was still stretched out along the mattress.

“Maybe I should’ve warned you that she knew I was awake,” you teased, leaning over him to press a quick kiss to his mouth.

“Mhm, maybe,” Kevin hummed, his hand sliding along your jaw before he kissed you again. You pulled away quickly after that before he could pull you back down to him, because you knew that if Sophie came back, she wouldn’t hesitate to open the door.

It was a really good evening, honestly. Brady, Jimmy, and Kevin all seemed a little down that it was the last night of the trip and that they probably wouldn’t see each other for a while. You played cards and pong, maintaining a slight buzz through dinner, where you next to Sophie as promised. Kevin was essentially glued to your side, mostly keeping his hands to himself despite the way he was looking at you.

One simple grin from him had fire jolting up your spine, leaving you to think about his hands on you, the way they squeezed your waist, and the tight grip of them in your hair when you went down on him. He had even texted you at one point, telling you he was thinking about how good you tasted, that he couldn’t wait to be inside you later. Of course, he’d been sitting right next to you when he’d sent it and watched for your reaction, even when you’d been in the middle of talking with Brady about his new place in Raleigh. You’d stumbled over your words a little after reading the message, your cheeks flushing as your clit throbbed.

Just like every other night of the trip, someone got a fire going once it was dark. Jimmy and Brady were both a little past drunk by then, making s’mores under Sophie’s supervision. You grinned as you watched, letting Kevin pull you into his lap. He kissed your shoulder through your shirt, then the curve of your neck and you leaned back into him. You were quiet, not really having anything to say as you simply enjoyed the togetherness of having your favorite people all in one spot. It was bittersweet, but it no longer felt like the end of the world, especially with Kevin’s warmth as he held you in his lap.

His hands started wandering a bit eventually, brushing his thumb over the clasp of your bra and letting his knuckles graze over your spine. You repaid him by shifting in his lap casually here and there, making sure your ass pressed against his lap to make him grip your hips in a plea to stop. He said your name at one point and kissed you when you turned your head to glance back at him, and you realized that was the first time he’d done that in front of other people. Brady was quick to make a comment that it was about fucking time, rolling his eyes dramatically before giving Kevin a thumbs up.

Around 10, you stretched slightly in his lap before moving to stand up. Kevin’s arm tightened around you, and you scoffed. “I have to pee, dude, I’ll be right back,” you told him with a quiet laugh, squeezing his wrist when he finally released you. “You want anything from the house?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth before you got to your feet.

When you came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, the cabin was dark aside from the string lights on one wall, and you jumped a little when you spotted Kevin on the sofa.

“You really did just have to use the bathroom, huh?” he said, grinning as he got to his feet. The look in his eye as he watched you made your back straighten as he approached.

“Yeah,” you laughed, licking your lips. “What did you think I meant?”

“I dunno, I figured that was code that you wanted me to follow you up here to fuck you senseless or something,” he told you with a shrug, his hands finding your waist once he was close enough. You snorted softly, shaking your head as you looked up at him. He was grinning at you like he had been all night, like you and your body were the only things on his mind, and anything you’d thought about saying as a response was lost.

He dipped his head to kiss you, pressing you back against the closed door of the bathroom, and you sighed into his mouth. Your hands came up to grip the fabric of his shirt, letting him keep the slow pace he’d set even as your restraint was threatening to fray. His tongue slid over yours, and he held your jaw tenderly, thumb brushing over your cheek. Your knees already felt weak as you leaned into him, all of the heat from earlier flooding back.

You couldn’t help the way that you moaned into his mouth, your hips already pressing toward him eagerly. That was when he pulled back, clearly enjoying the way your cheeks were flushed. “You wanna go back out to the fire?” he asked, smirking casually and hellbent on torturing you.

Rolling your eyes, you brought an arm up to wrap around his shoulders, keeping him where he was. “I thought you were gonna keep me up half the night and fuck me senseless,” you responded, surprised that your voice wasn’t shaking as you repeated his earlier words back to him.

His only reaction was to curse under his breath as he kissed you again roughly enough that you melted against him. Your hand slid along his neck, and when your thumb brushed over his pulse point, you could feel that his heart was racing. You were already wet, and had been since before Sophie interrupted you after your nap earlier. He squeezed your ass firmly, pulling your hips forward against his as his teeth caught on your bottom lip.

“Kev, we need to relocate,” you breathed, tilting your head back as he kissed down your throat. He let out a grumble that made you laugh even as you arched toward him again and he sighed, finally pulling back.

“Meet me in your room?” he murmured, hands sliding up your waist like he wasn’t ready to let go of you just yet. You nodded, nudging his shoulder lightly to make him move finally, and you took off ahead of him.

He smacked your ass hard enough to make you gasp before slipping into his room as you kept going toward your own. With the door closed behind you, you tugged off your shirt and kicked your shorts aside, knowing they wouldn’t stay on much longer anyway. You wished you had thought ahead and packed some cute underwear or something that would’ve made you feel a little sexier as you laid back against your pillows.

You held your breath when you heard his footsteps come toward your door, and he cursed loudly when he saw you, making sure to lock the door behind him. He’d always managed to boost your ego, and damn, you were grateful for that. His eyes were glued to you as he approached the bed, already pulling his shirt off over his head with a grin.

When he set a box of condoms on the end table next to the bed, you laughed loudly. “A whole box, huh?” you teased, beaming as you watched him closely.

Licking his lips as his eyes slid over your body, he shrugged. “Just trying to be prepared, baby girl,” he told you, smirking as his hands moved to unbutton his pants.

He kicked his shorts off, and the outline of his half hard dick in his boxer-briefs was enough to make you groan. His body was absolutely stunning, perfectly sculpted by years of training and you had never figured out how someone as hot as him was interested in you.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” he told you, still smirking as he joined you on the bed. You shrugged, continuing to check him out because you knew he certainly didn’t mind. The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable, and you pulled him over you as soon as he was close enough.

Settled over you, his body was close enough for you to feel his warmth, and as soon as he kissed you, you were arching toward him for the skin to skin contact you were so desperate for. There wasn’t much restraint in his kiss as his knee sank into the mattress between your thighs. You put an arm around his neck, your fingers digging into his shoulder as you tugged at his bottom lip with your teeth.

His mouth left yours to move along your jaw in hot, open mouthed kisses and you sighed softly, tilting your head back for him. You already felt like you were burning from the inside out, your clit throbbing as your hands moved to start tugging down his underwear.

He chuckled softly, his lips vibrating against your throat as he swatted your hands away. “So impatient,” he murmured with a soft tsk, letting his mouth slide over your collarbone. You exhaled a loud breath, a shiver running through you from the contact, and you made a pleading sound.

When he kissed you again, you saw stars, only faintly aware of his hand slipping under your back to unfasten your bra. Pulling the fabric away from you, he cursed under his breath and his mouth was already making its way down your throat again.

“Kev, baby, just fuck me already,” you whined, dragging your nails over his shoulder. He glanced up at you with dark eyes, and he had the audacity to grin at you before sucking your nipple into his mouth. You nearly jumped out of your skin, moaning loudly as your hips rocked in search of friction. His hand came up to tug your panties down in an easy motion, so at least he was heading in the right direction of what you wanted.

You were about to whine for him again, damn near ready to beg by the time his hand slipped between your thighs. A loud, grateful moan left you from the contact, even if it was just him sliding his fingers through your folds.

“How are you always just so fucking wet?” he murmured, mostly to himself as he purposefully avoided your clit. A frustrated sound left you as you squirmed, your hips twitching toward his hand.

“It might have something to do with the fact that you teased me for half the day,” you responded, voice shaking slightly as you managed to laugh a bit. Sucking a mark against the curve of your breast, he hummed softly like he was acknowledging his role in the matter.

Without much further teasing, he sank two fingers into you, and you each moaned in unison. You felt so on edge already, barely able to keep still as your body squeezed around his fingers greedily. His mouth moved over your chest and shoulder without much direction, like he was just happy to be able to touch you at all while his fingers rocked into you.

“You’re so fucking tight, sweetheart,” he groaned, nosing at the hollow of your throat. “Can’t wait to feel you around my dick, baby, I’ve been waiting so fucking long.” He said that just when you thought you couldn’t possibly get any wetter, but the words alone made you exhale a pleading whine.

Your nails sank into his shoulder when his fingers curled against your g-spot and you cursed loudly as you rocked against his hand hungrily. He leaned up to kiss you again, happily swallowing the moans that were spilling out of you. His thumb had started rubbing circles and figure 8s against your clit and you swore that you were on the verge of actually exploding.

The motion of his fingers sped up and you were already so close, desperately trying to meet the motion of his hand to get what you needed. His mouth closed around your nipple again, nearly overwhelming you. Your heartbeat was roaring in your ears and your scalp prickled from the perfect pressure of his thumb against you.

“Fuck, Kev, I’m gonna cum,” you warned, panting as heat threatened to consume your body. He cursed, and just as you were right there at the edge, his fingers were suddenly gone. The sound that left you was practically a sob, your body shaking as you tried to squeeze your thighs together for whatever friction you could get.

Kevin actually chuckled at the sight, using the leg still between your knees to stop you as he leaned to kiss you again quickly. “Not yet, baby, don’t want you to cum until it’s on my cock,” he told you, and all you could do was nod out of desperation.

He brought his hand up to your mouth and you locked eyes with him as you sucked his fingers into your mouth, moaning at the taste of yourself. Eagerly, your tongue slid along his digits and you held his gaze, knowing your eyes were dark and clouded with lust. All you could hear over the rush of your own heartbeat was the soft mumble of his voice as he praised you.

When he pulled away completely, standing to grab a condom from the end table, your head turned to watch him, just as you had earlier. He smirked when he caught you checking him out, your eyes obviously stuck on the hard line of his cock as it strained against the fabric of his underwear.

“Turn over, sweetheart, get up on your hands and knees for me,” he told you, licking his lips as he tore open the condom.

You didn’t even bother to nod, just moving as quickly as you could on limbs that were still shaking. Your knees sank into the mattress, eagerness clawing at you as you heard the sound of his boxer-briefs sliding down his legs. Still trembling, you looked back at him, loving the look in his eye as he stroked his cock slowly, surveyed the way you were presenting yourself to him.

“Kev, c’mon, stop making me wait,” you pleaded, already rocking back toward him hungrily. He chuckled softly, letting his hand rub over your back in a way that made you shake even more. It surprised you when he pulled you to the edge of the mattress where his feet were still planted on the floor.

“I don’t remember you being this needy before,” he mused, his voice a low hum as he smacked your ass, earning a gasp from you. You gritted your teeth as your hand tightened in the sheets, pressing back toward him again as your pussy throbbed.

“Maybe because before, I hadn’t spent a year and a half fantasizing about you,” you responded, the words punctuated with a moan as he started to drag the head of his cock through your folds. You figured stroking his ego a little bit might get you what you wanted, and your arms were shaking so badly that you dropped to let your chest rest against the mattress.

“Let’s hope this lives up to the fantasy then, huh?” You had started to laugh at his words, but the sound immediately became a loud moan when he sank into you all at once.

You were so full that you swore you could feel him through every inch of you, your muscles already tightening around him eagerly. A grunt left him as his hands found your waist, squeezing you there while his hips ground against you in a way that left you whimpering.

Just as you were about to whine for him to move, to give you more, he pulled back, almost slipping out of you before slamming his hips into yours again. You cursed loudly, nodding in encouragement as he set a rhythm that was somehow both lazy and desperate.

That pace didn’t last though, not when you were still so close to an orgasm that you found yourself rocking back toward him hungrily. He got the message, starting to pound into you with shallow thrusts that had the head of his cock dragging over your g-spot with each stroke. Moaning loudly into the comforter, it was hard to catch your breath, but the need for oxygen was second to your need for him.

“Right there, Kev, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped out, not even sure if your words were coherent by then. He seemed to understand well enough though, keeping the current pace as his hand slid up your back to press between your shoulders as he fucked you into the bed.

When you came, you groaned into the mattress, only faintly aware of the sharp curse that Kevin let out from the way you tightened around him as he fucked you through it. It was the kind of orgasm that left you boneless and panting, clinging to the sheets in the hopes of staying upright as it faded. With your eyes squeezed shut, you may have blacked out for a second, barely aware of the fact that you were now on your back.

“You good, sweetheart?” Kevin asked softly, leaning over you to press a gentle kiss to your mouth. You nodded, almost feeling drunk as you smiled at him, tilting your head up for another kiss. He was still buried inside you as you throbbed around him, and you were surprised that you were able to move your arm enough to loop it around his neck.

With the buzzing in your mind and body slowing, Kevin’s mouth moved over your throat again as he let you come down a little more. You didn’t need much of a break though, and you gasped when he leaned into you more. The sound made him smirk and his teeth grazed over your pulse point sharply enough that your hips rocked against him.

“Ready for more?” he asked, straightening up before you were ready to lose the contact of him leaning over you. Looking up at him, you nodded, biting your lip. He swore under his breath again, glancing down between your bodies to where you were joined and started to move.

Your urgency and impatience returned quickly, leaving you to roll your hips against his encouragingly as you gripped the sheets beneath you. The groan that left him was so hot, and you could practically see his hands shaking as he reached for a pillow to slide under your hips. You managed to wrap your legs around his waist despite the fact that they still felt like jello, and he made a sound of approval, guiding one leg a bit higher.

He was slow for a bit, just like he had been earlier, studying your body as it was stretched out in front of him. You knew you were flushed, your skin hot and there was at least one mark on you left by his mouth. When you said his name, your tone was desperate and he met your gaze as he nodded. His hand squeezed your thigh, moving to hold the crook of your knee as his brow creased in concentration.

His pace changed quickly after that like he was tired of making you wait for it. The drag of his cock inside you was enough to make you arch toward him and your mouth fell open with a moan. He was far too good at this, he always had been. His jaw was slack as he looked down at you, obviously taking note of the fact that your tits were bouncing each time his hips slammed into yours.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathed, his voice tense as his hand moved from your hip up to your breast to toy with your nipple. The contact made you cry out, your chest rising to meet his hand in search of more.

A smirk flashed across his face at your reaction, his eyes dark as you dug your heel into his back, silently pleading for more. With your hands fisted in the sheets beneath you as you tried to rock against him, you whined his name, already the pressure building in you again. He had such a gorgeous body and you brought a hand up to his abs, letting your nails scratch over his skin lightly.

“Touch yourself, Y/N,” Kevin told you, guiding one of your legs higher on his waist. “I wanna see you make yourself cum while I fuck you, wanna cum with you.” His words were rushed, and the slight increase in pace told you he was growing close, just like you were.

Your hand dropped from his abs to between your thighs, gasping at just how wet you were. Your clit was swollen and throbbing, and the pressure of your fingers made your body shake as his grip on your thigh tightened.

“Goddammit, Kevin,” you whined, rubbing frantic circles against your clit as he fucked you.

“Good girl, keep going, I know you can cum for me again,” he said, the husky tone of his voice only turning you on more. Your breathing was ragged as your legs tightened around him, still needing him deeper.

He leaned over you, one hand beside your head as he pressed his face into your breasts. Grateful for the contact, your arm wrapped around him and your hand found its way into his hair, tugging at the strands. The new angle had his cock grinding over your g-spot with each snap of his hips, sending you over the edge as you continued to rub hard circles against your clit.

Your body arched off the mattress as you came, exhaling moans that were semi-pornographic as his mouth closed around your nipple. He moaned loudly, sending a vibration through you as his hips stuttered, and you both lost all sense of rhythm as you came, grinding together almost aimlessly.

As soon as your orgasm passed, your head fell back, desperately trying to catch your breath as Kevin nuzzled against our chest. He was breathing just as heavily as you were, and his skin was damp with sweat when your hand slid over his back. You doubted you were in any better condition, but you were so content to just lay there for a long while, tangled together and blissed out. His weight was slumped against you a little, keeping you from floating away. When you remembered how to move, your hand moved to his hair, and he hummed in appreciation.

“Holy shit, you’re incredible,” he breathed eventually, turning his head enough to kiss your skin lazily. You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that bubbled in you as you continued toying with his hair. He lifted his head to look up at you and a content grin slid onto your face. “Better than the fantasies?”

You chuckled, nodding as you let out a sigh. “Absolutely,” you told him, smiling as his lips moved up your throat to your mouth. The kiss was lazy but left you breathless, and when he pulled away, you couldn’t help but pout. He shot you a wink, making your stomach flutter as you moved lay against the pillows.

Laying on your side, you watched as he disposed of the condom and stepped into his underwear. You felt warm all over, admiring the lines of his tattoo as he climbed into bed again. He was quick to spoon you, pressing kisses along the back of your shoulder as you relaxed back against him.

It was easy to lay there for a while, talking quietly about nothing really, just light conversation as he kept himself curled around you. You had to get up eventually to use the bathroom, and Kevin made a displeased sound over the fact that you pulled on pants as you got dressed again. Scoffing at him, you made sure to remove them again the second you were back and you hit the light before getting into bed in your t-shirt and panties.

Laying together in the dark, Kevin’s legs tangled with yours as his arm held you around the waist tightly. He was so warm behind you, and neither of you seemed to want to talk about leaving tomorrow, so you talked about easier things until you both dozed off.

#khayes #kevin hayes fic #kevin hayes imagine #nhl imagine #philladelphia flyers imagine #pretty please #mine

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

Text

That’s Christmas To Me| Julie and The Phantoms Cast

Dream-a-little-bigger-x’s Countdown to Christmas

Day 4

A/N: I got so excited when I saw this one was the next one I had to write! I hope you enjoy! I also wanna thank @calamitykaty, @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic, @vrthngiwnt and @bright-molina for letting me pick your brains and bounce some ideas off of you. I love you loads!

Pairing: Platonic! JATP Cast x fem!reader

Summary: 2022, season 2 was about to be released on Netflix and the cast was invited to promote the show on the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. A dream come true. When the host asks them for their favorite holiday memory together, the cast immediately flashes back to that time at the Christmas Markets.

Song(s) used: That’s Christmas To Me - Pentatonix | Happy Xmas (War is Over) - Echosmith ft. Hunter Hayes

Warnings: Spiked hot chocolates, but no one gets drunk and no one drinking is underage.

Words: 3,970

Checking her outfit in the full-length mirror once again, y/n sighed nervously. All dressed out to the max for her very first talk show. Her styling team had outdone themselves once again. The gold flared pants, the white satin button down shirt and the white heels just made her feel so fabulous.

Though she couldn’t deny the fact that she was nervous. She was going on a live show, not any live show, but the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, nonetheless. Her family watched that show religiously every single night. That thought did not calm her down either.

A soft knock made her snap out of her thoughts and turn around to find Madison in the doorway with an excited smile on her face. “You look gorgeous!” she exclaimed excitedly and ran up to her newest best friend, engulfing her into a tight hug.

She was sporting a gray glittery jumpsuit with black pumps strapped on her feet, her makeup done beautifully and her natural curls flowing over her shoulders with bejeweled clips pulling it out of her face.

“So do you!” y/n retorted with the brightest smile she could muster, though Madison could see right through her and squeezed her hands reassuringly. “My heart is thumping.” The words came out in a whisper as though she was telling a secret.

“So is mine, but we can do this. We got each other, okay?”

Y/N and Madison had gotten along straight away the first day y/n came to set. It was nerve-wracking to weasel yourself into a tight group of cast members who’ve already spent two years working together, but they made it so agreeable. The first day, Madison and Owen came up to her and started bombarding her with so many questions about herself and her character. All she knew about the latter was that she’d be Reggie’s love interest and the villain’s niece who worked for him to try and get Reggie, Luke and Alex into his club. Which of course, would not work out as y/n’s character would fall for the bassist too.

The entire cast welcomed her into their group straight away and the whole process became so enjoyable to the point where it just didn’t feel like work anymore. It just felt like spending time with friends and trying to memorize words and songs at the same time. It was weird. But so much fun. And now, they were able to finally promote said season.

“Madison, y/n, time to go,” one of the show runners said to them when he passed y/n’s dressing room. The two girls nodded and after a simultaneous deep inhale and exhale of stress, they made their way to the hallway where the boys were waiting.

Charlie and Jeremy offered y/n a wide smile to ease her nerves a little before Charlie held out his hand in front of him. “We got this. Legends on three?” The others nodded and, with a content smile on her face, y/n placed her hand on top of Charlie’s.

“One,” said Charlie.

“Two,” Jeremy and Madison added in unison.

“Three!” Owen and y/n finished and all five their hands went up in the air as they yelled out “Legends!” Though it was scary, y/n knew she had four amazing people that would guide her through it.

“Please, welcome the cast of Julie and The Phantoms!” Jimmy introduced them and, while the Roots played the infamous intro song, the cast walked through the red curtain. Madison and y/n ahead, holding one another’s hands as to not fall in their heels, then followed Charlie, Jeremy and Owen.

The audience cheered and applauded until they sat down and the music faded away. “Welcome, welcome!” Jimmy said excitedly. “Thank you for being here!” The cast beamed at the host, unable to contain their excitement nor nerves.

“Thanks for having us,” said Charlie, the polite Canadian.

“So, exciting news, season two of your show Julie and The Phantoms premieres on Netflix tonight, is that correct?”

“Yes!” all five said, though not quite in unison, and the crowd roared again. Y/N couldn’t hide the smile on her red painted lips as she looked out into the sea of people.

Jimmy turned to the crowd, “If the people at home have never heard of your show, how would you explain it?” His eyes fell on the girl closest to his desk, which was Madison, allowing her to answer the question.

“Uhm… Julie and The Phantoms is about this girl, Julie, who tragically lost her mom and, with it, her love for music. That is until one day, she plays this old CD she finds and out pop these three lovable, dorky ghosts who used to be in a band in the 90’s, called Sunset Curve. They died when they ate bad hot dogs--” the crowd let out a laugh, and it made Madison chuckle too. “Yeah! -- Anyway, and so these boys kind of help her find her love for music again and they form a band, called Julie and The Phantoms as the audience can see the ghosts when they play with Julie. And a lot of things happen and it’s funny and light and cute!”

Jimmy let out a chuckle too, “And now there’s a season 2!” Another cheer erupted from the crowd. “What can you tell us about season 2, Charlie?” he directed the question to the boy next to the newbee.

“A lot happens! We see what happens with Nick and Caleb, and we meet Philippa, Pips, Covington who will stir up some crazy stuff in the boys’ lives, especially Reggie’s,” he explained with a grin. He stirred in his seat a little before placing his arm on the back of the couch, behind y/n’s head. The girl tried not to react to the overwhelmingly amazing scent of sandalwood that emanated from this movement.

Jimmy’s eyes landed on y/n and she was certain that for a moment, he knew what she was thinking, but then he asked her a question instead. “How was it for you, y/n, as the newcomer to the cast? Did they immediately embrace you or did you have trouble being accepted?”

“I hated it--” she replied seriously, but then giggled, “No, I loved it! They were so kind and so welcoming, I immediately felt like I was part of their tight group. It did feel strange at first, I’m not gonna lie. But after a while, coming to work didn’t really feel like working anymore.”

“And your character, Phillipa, was she accepted by the other characters?”

She cleared her throat of any nerves before answering. “Pippa was… well-- she was working for her dead great-uncle, so she had to make sure she was accepted and weasled herself into the friend group pretty quickly. She knew how to get to Reggie especially and thanks to him, got into their friend group.”

“That’s amazing. I’m so excited to watch! My daughters are eight and nine, and they loved season 1 of Julie and The Phantoms. They’re thrilled to see the new season!”

A chorus of “aw”s were shared within the cast as well as throughout the audience.

“Yeah, they’re pretty cute.” He picked up his cue cards to remind himself of the next bullet point he needed to talk about. “Oh! Since it’s almost Christmas, I like to ask my guests to tell us a fun holiday themed story before I send them off, do you guys have a fun holiday themed story for us?”

The cast exchange glances until Owen asked, “Should we talk about the Christmas market we did last year after filming?” The rest of the cast made sounds of agreement with a few giggles mixed in between.

“Tell us about the Christmas Market!” Jimmy shouted excitedly, almost resembling a five-year-old getting their Christmas presents early.

Owen took the lead on this one. “So, we were all in Vancouver, we had wrapped season 2 and we would soon be going home, but we decided to spend one last night together at a Christmas market in Vancouver city…”

Bundled up in layers of sweaters and a thick coat, y/n trekked through the layer of snow that blanketed to grounds of Vancouver City. She was trying her hardest not to focus on the blistering cold that nipped at her nose but rather on the story Charlie was telling the others in front of her. His voice boomed into the busy streets, along with the others’ laughter.

She always loved the way Charlie told his stories about every wild adventure he’d ever been on and the way Owen quipped back with the wittiest of comebacks. Or how Madison would chime in with her typical Gen Z humor none of the boys understood. Y/N was sure going to miss the entire dynamic of the group when they were back home.

Thousands of lights flickered above y/n’s head as they strolled through the entrance of the infamous Vancouver Christmas Market. She let her eyes take in the beauty whilst her stomach fluttered from excitement. Her love for Christmas Markets had never faltered over the years. It still excited her in the same way it did when she was just a child.

“Can we get a hot chocolate first? I’m freezing!” Savannah suggested, her teeth chattering as she snuggled into her thick scarf. Smiling, y/n hooked her arm around hers and pulled her closer in hopes the warmth of all her layers would help the blonde girl a little.

“I heard they have a unique recipe that only the Christmas Market here ever uses!” Charlie added with a wide grin before leading the gang towards the warm beverage kiosk. It resembled a cabin from a ski resort, decked out all the way with Christmas lights and foliage.

The group stood in front of the kiosk and read the menu to figure out whatever they’d want to drink. “Ooh, that Peppermint Hot Chocolate sounds delish,” Owen said, and when y/n’s eyes landed on the words, her mouth curled up into a smirk.

“We’re going that route tonight, hm?”

The hot chocolate he was talking about was spiked with peppermint schnapps and chocolate liqueur. This sounded right up y/n’s street, and she knew it would warm Savannah up from the inside.

“Follow me or don’t follow me, that’s up to you, but I am taking that route tonight.” Owen rubbed his gloved hands together until the lady inside the kiosk looked up at him, signalling that it was his turn to order. “A peppermint hot chocolate, please.” He sounded way too confident for someone who had just turned 21 that year.

The woman peered over her half-moon glasses, letting her eyes glide from his eyes to his toes before sneering, “ID, please.” Owen’s mouth dropped open and with a lot of cursing underneath his breath, he reached for his wallet.

“Ha! Owen’s getting ID’d!” Charlie cackled, shaking his head. The woman’s eyes darted over to the second boy, giving him the same one-up before raising her eyebrows as if saying “I’m gonna get you too, little boy”.

And she did. She ID’d Charlie too. No one else but Charlie and Owen, which everyone had a good laugh at as they were sipping their hot chocolates, which for three out of ten isn’t spiked.

While Jeremy and Booboo were still teasing the two boys, y/n turned around and let her eyes scan the entire view in front of her. All the pretty lights and the snow whirling to the ground so gracefully and the music floating through the air made the cold more bearable.

A gasp eliciting from Jadah’s tiny body made y/n snap out of her thoughts and turn to the younger cast member. Her eyes were wide and shimmering, looking up at the tall Christmas tree that was towering above their heads with tens of thousands of lights blinking back at them.

“Isn’t that the walk-through Christmas tree?!” she asked, excitedly.

Madison took her hand and, giggling, they weaved through the sea of people towards the one-of-a-kind festive fairyland. Y/N exchanged glances with the rest before they, too, made a beeline towards the tree, dodging people left and right.

“Hey, Owen, are you sure you’re gonna be able to fit?” y/n asked the tall Oklahoman teasingly. The boy’s mouth dropped open, and before she could properly register it, he started chasing her. She ran past Madison and Jadah, and tried to duck behind any other visitor until he eventually picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. The girl shrieked, prior to a giggle.

Jimmy’s voice echoed over y/n’s flashback to the most festive night of that year. “You guys really sound like a close group of friends.”

“Yeah! We are! We’re like a little family!” Charlie replied, dropping the arm that was on the back of the sofa around the girl’s shoulder.

“What happened next?” Jimmy then questioned, curiously. The whole scene almost resembled a toddler listening to his bedtime story.

Jeremy cleared his throat with a chuckle. “Well, if this night were a movie, you’d now have a cute montage of us going through that magical tree and on the carousel like little children.”

“Yeah, you’d see us stuff our faces with churros and pretzels,” y/n added, making Jimmy and the crowd laugh.

“And we got a lot of Christmas shopping done too!” Madison chimed in with a smile. “I actually got everyone’s present when they were right there with me. None of them noticed.”

“Oh, no, I noticed,” y/n replied with a smirk, to which Madison reacted with widened eyes.

“What’s next?!” Jimmy queried. His eyes were glistening as he listened to the cast talk. He just loved their dynamic and how well they got along with one another.

Y/N continued the story as her mind tumbled back into her daydream.

The music had stopped just a few minutes ago, but only now y/n’s ears picked up on the sudden absence. Knitting her eyebrows together, she lifted her eyes to the stage in the corner of the market where singers were carolling minutes ago, and was now completely empty. As the small amount of alcohol made her brain a little woozy, her teeth gnawed on her bottom lip in thought.

“Guys… Should we--Should we go sing a song?” she suggested, causing all of them to look up in surprise. “There’s no one on the stage… Should we?” she pointed at the podium to emphasize what she meant.

As smiles appeared on each of their faces, the group walked up to the stage and grabbed a microphone each. Charlie reached for the acoustic guitar on the stand, but y/n stopped him.

“Let’s do a capella for once?” she told him tenderly.

When his eyes met hers, she felt her lungs expand with the gasp that left her body. How gorgeous could one’s eyes be. But with that one look, the boy also knew what song she wanted to sing. The one song that had been stuck in her head for the past month during filming. And the rest of the crew knew too because when y/n counted them in softly, they all started to sing along. Their voices mingling perfectly and floating throughout the night sky.

“The fireplace is burning bright, shining all on me I see the presents underneath the good old Christmas tree And I wait all night 'til Santa comes to wake me from my dreams Oh, why? 'Cause that's Christmas to me”

Savannah locked eyes with y/n and a smile fell to their lips before they looked out to the audience they had assembled with their harmonies reaching across the entire Christmas Market.

“I see the children play outside, like angels in the snow While mom and daddy share a kiss under the mistletoe And we'll cherish all these simple things wherever we may be Oh, why? 'Cause that's Christmas to me”

Owen came to stand next to y/n and wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they all sang the chorus together, the tall blondie on lead vocals and the others harmonizing in the background.

“I've got this Christmas song in my heart”

“Song in my heart”

“I've got the candles glowing in the dark I'm hanging all the stockings by the Christmas tree Oh, why? 'Cause that's Christmas to me Oh, why? 'Cause that's Christmas to me”

As though they had prepared the entire performance, Booboo led them into the next verse while the others acted as backing vocals for him. His warm, deep voice sent chills down everyone’s spines, especially of the people in the crowd.

“I listen for the thud of reindeer walking on the roof As I fall asleep to lullabies, the morning's coming soon”

His cast mates then joined in again and together, they sang the chorus once again with Jeremy taking lead this time. While they did, y/n took a hold of Savannah’s gloved hand, squeezing it as they looked at each other with intent in their eyes. Like they meant what they were singing to one another.

“The only gift I'll ever need is the joy of family Oh, why? 'Cause that's Christmas to me I've got this Christmas song in my heart”

“Song in my heart”

“I've got the candles glowing in the dark I'm hanging all the stockings by the Christmas tree Oh, why? 'Cause that's Christmas to me Oh, why? 'Cause that's Christmas to me”

Y/N turned her head to the other side now, locking eyes with Tori and Sacha, and shooting them a wink before they lapsed into the chorus one last time. It felt good to sing with everyone for once. During filming, it was always just a select group of people that got to sing together.

“Oh, the joy that fills our hearts and makes us see Oh, why? 'Cause that's Christmas to me I've got this Christmas song in my heart I've got the candles glowing in the dark And then for years to come we'll always know one thing That's the love that Christmas can bring Oh, why? 'Cause that's Christmas to me”

As the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the group shared an intense look, one that said they were always going to be friends. No matter how far away they’ll be from tomorrow on. Even if they don’t get picked up for a third season, they’re always going to be there for each other and be the best of friends forever. The only gift they’ll ever need is the joy of family. And they were family.

“That was so beautiful!” Jimmy exclaimed after they’d told him about everything that had happened that night in a short synopsis. “Now, I believe you’re gonna sing for us now?”

The cast nodded in unison. “Okay, what are you bringing us tonight? The song you sang at the Christmas market?”

Madison giggled, “No, though we love that song, there’s one we collectively think is one of the greatest Christmas songs ever. It’s the ultimate classic Happy Xmas, War is Over by John Lennon.”

“Amazing! You can go get ready!” he gestures to the tiled floor in front of the red curtain where the crew had set up their instruments and five microphones for them. “Catch Julie and The Phantoms season 2 on Netflix from tonight! They’re singing for us now. Madison, y/n, Charlie, Jeremy and Owen, take it away!”

Owen counted them in by slamming his sticks together and then began playing the rhythm of the song. Y/N then chimed in with the jingling of the tambourine before the other boys and Madison joined with their respective instruments. Soon after, Madison’s voice floated through the talk show’s studio.

“So this is Christmas And what have you done Another year over A new one just begun”

When the girls lock eyes, they shoot one another a wink before y/n takes over the next part of the verse.

“And so this is Christmas I hope you have fun The near and the dear ones The old and the young”

Then the boys chime in, their voices mingling as they linger in the air for everyone to hear and enjoy. Y/N lets her eyes dart over to Charlie, who’s already looking at her with a smile on his face.

“A very merry Christmas And a happy New Year Let's hope it's a good one Without any fears”

The others shut up, giving Charlie the floor now. He really was born to be a rockstar. The way he just owned the stage and looked like an absolute legend, singing his heart out and playing his guitar like a pro. And he’d only started learning when he was on season 1 of Julie and The Phantoms.

“And so this is Christmas For weak and for strong The rich and the poor ones The world is so wrong”

For a split second, he locked eyes with y/n again as she took over and faced the audience with a smile, still working her little tambourine for the extra jingles. Somehow, this just felt like one of their jam sessions during rehearsals and not at all like it was a live broadcast on national television.

“And so happy Christmas For black and for white Ooh, for everyone Let's stop all the fights”

Their voices mingled together again, and, in a boost of confidence, y/n grabbed the mic from its stand and walked over to Jeremy, rocking out with him as he shredded on the bass.

“A very merry Christmas And a happy New Year Let's hope it's a good one Without any fears”

The music slowed down, and while Madi, Owen and Jeremy took care of the soft backing vocals, y/n walked over to Charlie and sang the lines to one another, never breaking eye contact.

“And so this is Christmas And what have we done Another year over A new one just begun”

The music picked back up. Madison took over this time, and while y/n worked her tambourine, she danced her way towards the Latina girl with a smile plastered on her face.

“And so happy Christmas We hope you have fun The near and the dear ones The old and the young”

She then turned to Owen as he took over on the next part. He shot her a quick wink whilst his mouth curled up on one side. “A very merry Christmas And a happy New Year Let's hope it's a good one Without any fear”

Each taking their turn, starting with Owen, they all sang a part of the backing vocals while the boys and Madison played the instrumental intermezzo. “Merry Christmas”

“So this is Christmas”

“War is over now”

Returning back to her spot, y/n placed her mic on the stand again, and along with the others, sang the very last lines of the song.

“War is over If you want it It’s over now”

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause while the band assembled in the middle of the stage. Charlie grabbed y/n’s hand and gave it a small, reassuring squeeze. All five of them together took a bow before exchanging knowing glances.

This time around, they knew they were going to see each other tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that as they were doing all the promo they could. It felt a lot more reassuring than it did that day at the Christmas Market when they had no clue when they’d see each other again. Though all of them knew that this was still the only gift they’ll ever need. Their little found family.

JATP taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg@thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti @alexpjoyner @n0wornever @kaitieskidmore1 @tefilovesreading @pxperphxntom @crybabyddl @parkeret @headheartbellarke

Names crossed out are the ones I couldn’t tag.

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #jatp #jatp x reader #jatp cast x reader #charlie gillespie #owen patrick joyner #jeremy shada #madison reyes #savannah lee may #tori caro #jadah marie #sacha carlson #julie and the phantoms cast #dream-a-little-bigger-x Christmas Countdown #dream-a-little-bigger-x's countdown to christmas(ish)

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anemonenemerosa · 4 years

Text

The Spare - Chapter 12

Here we go! Thank you, @lumosinlove for the SW-verse!

Chapter 12

Out of precaution, Regulus decided to sneak into Malfoy Manor through the kitchen window. He scoffed at the thought that everyone always assumed he was a model son. Sure, he kept his head down, all appearances and he was once very eager to please his parents but that didn't mean he hadn't a rebellious streak.

Sirius often got caught trying to sneak out the house... through the back door... too obvious. Idiot. But he learned over time. Regulus, on the other hand, learned to pick locks and sneak out of windows quiet early on. It was much stealthier and more unsuspected from the obedient, quiet kid.

Around 16, Regulus did this very often, trying to live a little under the thumb of his parents and while pretending not to. Sirius was bold, brave and often getting shit for it. Regulus was collected and sneaky. His escapades went unnoticed. It was all about the right balance. He asked to go out often enough to be considered normal. His parents said no more often than not and Regulus just had to ask for events he was not really interested in. When they said no, he would obediently stay at home and just sneak out to the stuff he actually wanted to go to. Unsuspecting.

He went to several high school parties and concerts, albeit hating crowds, because that was what teenagers did right? What they enjoyed. Regulus did not enjoy the drinking, the stuffed rooms and the gross drunk make-out sessions. Maybe he was born as snarky old man, always been more of a Waldorf, in need for his Statler.

Once in his room, Regulus showered, changed and was just in time for Lucius to take him to practice.

The mood in locker the locker room was disgustingly cheerful. Several Death eaters were reciting their favourite slurs against Sirius and all the “faggots”, how they called queers, in general, accompanied by hollering, whistling and applause.

Regulus thought of Sirius, of Ben and Mateo, how kind and loving they treated him, and it took all his badly patched up self-control to keep his expression blank and polite. This is not right.

He did not return to the shire this evening. Instead, he spent a long time running in the neighbourhood of the Malfoys, trying to sort through the last days.

When he collapsed exhausted into bed this evening, he came to the conclusion that there was actually no way he could get through the mess in his very own… The psychologist-thing was meant as a joke at Thanksgiving, Black…

oOo

The next evening, he nervously rang the bell besides the name tag Hayes/Alves, not knowing whether someone is even at home but he was let into the building and a moment later he found himself unable to knock on the door to their flat. These people owed him noting, why would they even let him in again after he practically stormed out yesterday?

The door was yanked open anyway and a relieved looking Mateo pulled him inside. “There you are, we were worried!”

“What? Why?”

“You were rather upset when you bolted yesterday” Jo provided from the kitchen, a spoon in her mouth and an almost empty can of ice cream in her hands.

“Hey, there you are!” Ben chimed happily, stepping out of the bathroom in his pyjamas and towelling his hair.

“Are you guys mad?” Regulus blurted suddenly, “You don’t know me, I stormed out yesterday after all you have done like an ungrateful asshole and you are actually happy that I'm back?”

“Sure.” All three answered as one, baffling him completely.

“Why?” He was almost desperate, “You have absolutely no gain from me being here... I am just a rookie so no one will buy my secrets from you, I am rather rich but you have nothing to properly blackmail me so what do you want?!”

“Are you serious?” Jo asked after a short silence.

“No, that’s my Brother, I am Regulus.” he answered absentmindedly. Ben and Mateo snorted but Jo just looked puzzled.

Regulus looked back, similarly puzzled. “Sirius Black, the famous, freshly outed, Captain of the Gryffindor Lions?”

Still nothing but a furrowed brow... “NHL?”

'Yeah, yeah, heard of it but hold on, your full name is Regulus, like your real name? And your brother is, in fact, named Sirius, that’s not a fake, too?”

“That is your Question? And no, its Sirius Orion and Regulus Arcturus Black, actually.” Jo anything but shrieked, joining the other two hobbits already shaking with mirth by now.

“Ok, that’s - that’s just bad, I'm sorry” she wheezed after a few minutes.

“I always thought these were aliases… I see that I need to revaluate my bad-name categories.”

“Alors, I call you Josephine from now on?” Regulus was met with a surprisingly deathly glare that sent Ben and Mateo straight into another fit.

A grin started to tuck at the corner of Regulus’ lips but there were still pressing questions.

“Jo, you have no idea of the disaster that went on? You didn’t even check Twitter?”

“Nah, I don’t frequent social media. While I prefer to limit my direct interaction with other people, assholes accumulate there and throw all their bullshit around, guarded by the anonymity of the internet. I think a dentist appointment is less annoying.” The grin tucked again. This weird mixture of slang and hoity-toity wording was just gold.

“But you do watch ice hockey?” He was not sure why that was important for him. Maybe to find out, what she knew about him, maybe because to find out more about her.

“Sometimes yeah. For me you are Reg, the rather giant dude that slept on our couch, that prefers his tea bitter and gross and does not say thank you. The guy with the enjoyable dry humour and good taste in literature that luckily balances his abysmal taste in movies.”

At that Regulus laughed, too. He didn’t know, why exactly but he felt giddy with the idea that these were the first people who wouldn’t define him through hockey and his family. That although they knew of his profession, here was just Reg, not Regulus Arcturus Black, Son of Orion Black, number 72 of the Snakes. Maybe I can have this, after all.

Is this, what Sirius had with his team, with Remus? Another pang of guilt let the laughter die in his throat, his eyes welled up. Not again…please.

But there was no time to recompose himself. Quickly, he was shoved onto the couch, wrapped in the chicken-blanket and surrounded by these idiots caring for him for some reason he still did not understand.

For the third time, his walls broke. Where there even walls by now? Regulus felt rather leaking with emotions.

But of course, he could not keep it in around them and spilled all his life to the three of them, not in as much detail he told Mateo in the hospital but also not keeping his role of Sirius’ outing to himself. Once all was out, there was a tense silence... of course there was, he just told the gay couple in front of him that he forced his brother out to be tormented by a crowd of imbecile haters on the internet.

Regulus was sure, his little excursion into a happy family ended now. Just as he guessed on the first evening here but instead of scolding and disapproving, cold glares he found himself hugged by Ben, again. He gives good hugs; his brain supplied uselessly.

“It’s a shitty move to out someone Reg, there is nothing to sugar coat.” Ben sighed.

“But what they did with that information and how the people online reacted is not your fault.”

Regulus said nothing, just closed his eyes and buried deeper in the shoulder of Ben, who practically sat on his lap to reach the height for such an embrace.

“But your feelings were hurt, too at that time and a lot of people used you. Fuck your family. You know what, I’m your mom now!”

Regulus just continued crying silently into Ben’s Shoulder, Mateo’s hand rubbing slowly over his back, chuckling at Ben’s statement.

“Mother hen.”

This showed what he had suspected for a while now, proof that his parents were not just a little strict. That something in his childhood went horribly wrong and he has no idea what to do with that information except crying it out.

When he calmed down a bit, Ben and Mateo got up to make some tea and finish dinner while quietly talking in Portuguese. So, it was something he was not meant to understand. His stomach knotted uncomfortably.

“Reg?” Jo tried quietly, she had not reacted in any way so far. He had even forgotten that she was still perched on the carpet beside him and somehow, he dreaded what was to come next.

“Hm?”

“Earlier, at the door, as you said that you do not know of what use you are for us as we cannot even blackmail you... you were not joking?” He shook his head, new tears threating to well up. How were there still tears left and what happened to his composure again?

“You really expected us to just care for you as long as we could gain profit?” There was no accusation in her voice just sadness and concern. He shrugged his shoulders; did he think that? No, but this was the only form of interaction he knew, everything always came with a price, an expectation.

The next thing he felt was Jo not practically but literally perched on his lap, straddling his hips, wrapping her arms around him and leaning her cheek against his temple. He knew already that, opposite to her brother, Jo was not the touchy feely type with strangers.

He was not considered a stranger anymore, after a day?

“I don’t know if there is anything one could say to make it better, so I will just keep my mouth shut and hug you until you believe that we like you and care for you. Just like that. As long as it will take.” She wiggled a bit to demonstrate getting comfortable.

There was nothing sexual about the embrace although they were pressed together from shoulders to hips und she just wiggled in his lap. It was completely opposite to the girls that approached him at the parties he sneaked out to. These were eyeing him hungrily, like a trophy. Some of them (very drunk, to their defence) even told him how similar he looked to Sirius… and how sexy they found his brother. He shivered a bit at the memory and gladly went back to reality.

“You might die of old age while waiting.” Regulus lifted his head to check the effect of his attempt in humour on her face but she just tucked his head back, giving a soft huff.

“Nah. 'M convincing but probably need to excuse myself to the bathroom or the fridge in between”

He closed his eyes again, wrapped his arms around her waist and relished in the hug without questioning why this hug felt different, more intimate than Ben’s or Mateo’s.

After an undefinable amount of time, the men came back with plates of Vegetable Quesadillas and Guacamole.

“Comfort Food, my avozinha’s recipe.”, Mateo commented

Instead of answering his question for cutlery, Ben met his eyes, pointedly grabbed a Quesadilla, dipped it in the guacamole and shoved the whole thing in his mouth without breaking eye contact.

Reg snorted with laughter.

oOo

Of course, Ben spilled more than just a little on his shirt.

While Ben and Jo were cleaning the dishes and Ben, Mateo came over with a fresh cup of tea.

“Hey” Reg lifted his head. “I’m talking now as your fried -or co-mom, apparently- that just happens to also have studied medicine” he nodded for Mateo to continue.

“You went through a lot. Not just lately. And you struggle to cope.” Alors, the poker face seems to be gone…

“I do not say that you are weak, you are not! But you might want to consider the help of a therapist to sort through your feelings and your past. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, it is a sign of knowing your boundaries and taking care of yourself. I do not want to talk you into this, you need to want that for therapy to help. So, take you time to think about that, if you need. You can always come to us to talk but no one here is a therapist so we can only help you so far. OK? We are not disposing you to a shrink. Our door is open for you but you might want to have different type of help.”

Reg sat the in silence after this speech, hand running through his hair and rubbing his neck.

He had thought about that, more and more serious since Thanksgiving but hearing it and having the confirmation that he was welcome here …a thought formed in his brain, shortly followed by his usual determination.

"I want this to stop. I want to get better." He looked at Mateo and was met with his signature genuine, warm smile.

"You have a team therapist, don't you? It might be the fastest way to an appointment."

Reg grimaced at the thought of Dr. Slughorn. Generally well-meaning but when in doubt always humouring Riddle.

"I wouldn't trust him with taking the trash out." Regs grimace it met with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you want me to help you find someone else?" Mateo asked carefully and after a relieved nod from Reg, continued. "OK. Good, this is really good. Now for the next part."

Reg furrowed his brows

"Ben and I talked, and we want to offer you to stay here for a while after All Star, out of the clutches of your family. Of course, you have to go to practice and stuff but maybe it would be healthier for you to feel less controlled, less suffocated by them. We would find something else for you to sleep on than the couch, of course." Mateo joked.

Reg blinked at the guy in front of him in disbelieve. Encore: What the hell? "You would do that? Let me stay?"

"Yep. We are your moms now, after all." Ben all but yelled over from the kitchen.

This isn't a fever-trip. This is a dream, and I hope that I will not wake up too soon.

This night, he spent in Jos bed.

"The couch is lumpy so we will share that bed. I'm not ruining my neck for you." Was her announcement before she marched off, Reg in tow.

He was led into the room, expecting a bedroom and was greeted with a little bureau.

"Erm..." Was all Reg could say.

"Well I only stay here during semester breaks so it's mor like a multi-purpose room." Jo seemed to miss the point entirely.

"But there is no bed?!"

She gave him an odd look and... folded a mattress out of the closet? "You've never seen a Murphy bed?"

"Obviously."

A little while later Reg squeezed himself beside Jo in the double bed. How does such a small person take up so much space?

“Won't it fold up in the night and swallow us whole?" The thought made him nervous, but he was greeted with the Hayes™ way of soothing. Bullying into feeling better.

“Not with your fat ass in here. Sleep or I send you back to the couch.”

They did not sleep for a long while.

Instead the talked a lot like on the first morning that felt like years ago although it has been just two days. In these days, his life was turned inside out, fortunately. He liked this version better.

The more they talked and bantered, the more Reg understood, that she really did not calculate her moves but just did what seemed the honest, right and fair choice… which is why she was horrible at the midnight chess match: Not thinking a few steps ahead and no intention of sacrificing figures or threatening enemy figures… irritating and endearing.

Also, she had quite a lot of very good burns but apologised every time afterwards. Hilarious... too nice for her devilish mind.

The next morning, he woke up around four, with Jo's back tucked against his side. He had slept about two hours, not able to sleep any longer anyway but he stayed in bed, secretly enjoying the feeling of a warm weight beside him.

Thoughts about his brother were still omnipresent in his mind but right now, other thinks demand his attention. Reg was pretty sure that he was falling for Jo.

He had had one or another crush in school but what he felt now was magnitudes stronger. Coming to think of it, his feelings about Ben and Mateo were also magnitudes stronger but... different. The idea of the girl he just met not being within an hour driving distance, once she returned to Boston, left a weight on his chest, accompanied by an unfamiliar longing.

But that was not the point... everything would be OK with that point. The point was, it's not the same as he heard all the other guys in school, in the locker room talk about girls… he didn't get off imagining her naked, or both of them having sex, he never thought that about anyone, actually, and was convinced the boys boasting about how they want to hit all these girls and how they got horny every time some girl with a too-short-to-be-comfortable skirt walk by, were just exaggerating… or were they not? Was there something he just didn't understand, hadn't experienced yet? It's not that he hadn't had sex before and it was nice enough, but he never quite understood why people would go absolutely nuts about this past-time exercise. It was basically wanking with extra steps.

Hell, Reg felt not even aroused by Jo's ass pressed to his thigh in her sleep but he was very sure that he wanted to hold her close, feel her skin under his hands, her body pressed to his, to kiss her and be definitely more than friends with her; And he had absolutely no idea how to explain this to her and still hope for a chance of dating her eventually... This was not what people were looking for in a partner, was it?

He groaned... was there nothing simple on this world for him?

But then again, Jo was different, that's why he liked her, she had this no-bullshit attitude that let her stomp on several feet regularly. She was the only person he knew that would most likely appreciate if he just spoke his mind about the situation and have a balanced, rational and decidedly calm discussion about their feelings. He silently laughed. The thought about such a conversation was ridiculous but fairly simple. Maybe this would be easier than he first thought. He was not sure on what terms they would end but the situation would be evaluated and free of misunderstandings at the end.

He would talk to her after All Star, after facing his brother and trying to... what?

oOo

Telling Lucius and Narcissa that he wanted to stay elsewhere for a few nights went smoother than expected. After a short call with his mother she agreed to give him a bit of freedom. After the outing, his parents seemed to be eager to keep Reg as the good son. So, Walburga was in kind of open for some little claims. Of course, she wanted to know where he was staying so he pretended to need alone-time after the shock of his brother's outing and booked a hotel room until All Star as cover. He was definitely not risking his Mother taking this very fragile attempt of escape away from him.

Reg quietly packed a bag with clothes to take with him directly from the airport after All Star and spent his waiting time at the airport on the phone with Mateo, looking for a therapist. He would meet Dr. Bones close to the Hospital, Mateo worked at, next Thursday.

The flight with Snape was horrible. Reg tried to keep his thought about Sirius at bay, not checking social media at all but Severus kept sneering about Queers in general and Sirius. He laid open all the information he could dig up out about Remus and even announced proudly, that he forwarded it all to the commentators of the red carpet

Oh… merde. C’est pourri! They are in for a shit-show.

But Reg would not have to opportunity to contact Sirius before that.

#the spare #lumosinlove sweater weather #mentions of forced outing #mentions of abuse

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dauntless-cakeneedstobe-eaton · 4 years

Text

Jeff x Annie Song Fic-One Shot AU: Extended Version of Ending in Pascal’s Triangle Revisited (Season 1, Ep 25)

Song-Fic (Inspired by “I Want Crazy” by Hunter Hayes and “Clarity” by Zedd ft. Foxes)

“High dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life...Fight fear for the selfish pain it was worth it every time.” (Clarity)

Well, that went..unexpectedly to say the least. I like to think that it’s hard for me to get thrown off my game. From watching my father leave, to getting kicked out of the firm, I like to think I’ve seen it all. I like to think about myself a lot, which with my overall charm and muscular physique, shouldn’t come as a surprise...who wouldn’t? I say all of this ironically, considering that there are two women in there who--for whatever reason--think about me...a lot.

I know what you’re thinking: Jeff, stop being every girl in every teen rom-com that gets stuck in the middle of a love triangle. I’ll be the first one to say that this isn’t necessarily a love triangle. At least, I don’t think it is. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with anyone ever. All that sappy crap makes me want to throw up. That’s why I made sure to stay at least one hundred feet away from it--more like one hundred and five just to be safe. The whole “I want to be with you for the rest of my life” trope is a bunch of BS the entertainment industry sells us in order to make our expectations ridiculously high. So. Not. Worth. It.

I made sure to make every woman I have ever been interested in a fling. Nothing more, nothing less. When I made things official with Slater, I thought I would give this whole “commitment” thing a try, but that obviously didn’t end well. I never put any serious thought into Britta before, but I’d be lying if I said I was never curious about it. Standing out here just avoiding them wasn’t solving anything, but besides drinking, running away was the only thing I knew how to do.

“No I don’t want good and I don’t want good enough...I want can’t sleep, can’t breathe without your love.” (I Want Crazy)

In the middle of all my thinking, I saw a figure in a blue dress in my line of vision. Annie. I felt my lips curving upward, with a weird sense of relief as she approached me.

“I thought you left?” I asked quizzically. Annie put her bags down beside her. She sighed before answering.

“I couldn’t go…”

“Why? What happened?”

“I honestly don’t know,” she started, with a soft laugh, “As we were driving off, I finally started living in the moment, but at the moment I realized that Greendale is where I belong.” She shrugged her shoulders at me with a smile. I smiled at her in return, admiring her big, blue eyes. I once told her that she had dangerous doe eyes; I still stand by that statement. There was something about her--not just her eyes--that made me want to be a better person. She could force me into ridiculous situations, but they always felt natural as long as I was with her.

“What about you? What’re you doing out here?” Good question. What exactly was I accomplishing by being out here?

“Well...Britta and Slater just told me that they loved me.” Saying it out loud solidified it into reality. There you go universe. Happy now? I studied Annie’s reaction...for no particular reason. She looked shocked, as expected.

“Did you decide what you’re going to do about it?” I laughed.

“Not even close.” She giggled. It was nice to hear a comforting sound amidst all the chaos in my head.

“You can’t keep them waiting! You need to make a decision. Oh! I can help you!” she nodded excitedly.

“Oh? And how do you plan on doing that milady?” I asked mockingly. She gave me an offended glance to which I laughed.

“Hey! As long as it’s for you, I’m willing to help in any way I can!” she stated indignantly. When it actually registered what she said in her head, she blushed bashfully. I felt my palms start to sweat. “Anyway,” she continued calmly, “Tell me how you feel about Slater.” Another good question.

“Slater feels like a good choice to me. She’s intelligent and put-together. She makes me feel like I can leave my horrible past behind and become a new person.” Annie gives an impressive nod.

“Okay, so how do you feel about Britta?” Oh boy.

“Britta...she makes me feel like I’m good enough. She feels good enough too. Like I can be myself around her, flaws and all. She makes me feel like my current self is someone worth being.”

“Jeff you are in a pickle of all pickles.”

“Thanks Captain Obvious Annie.” She fake saluted at me. I genuinely didn’t know who I liked better. I didn’t know who I could stay committed to. I didn't know who I had more of a spark with. Maybe there were a lot of things I didn’t know.

“If our love is tragedy why are you my remedy? If our love’s insanity why are you my clarity?” (Clarity)

“Hmmm. Maybe you could reach a decision more easily if you could practice saying what you just said to their faces. Maybe once you look them in the eye and say how you’re feeling, some spark will fly?” I thought about it for a moment...it could work. Seeing that I didn’t automatically reject her idea, Annie perked up. “Okay I’m taking your pondering as a yes! Now all you have to do is say what you just said to me. Except this time, I’ll pretend to be both of them for the most authentic experience possible!” Normally, this is where I’d reject her idea, but I decided to humor her. “Alright Jeff, look at me and pretend I’m Slater.”

“Okay I’ll try.” I opened my mouth to start, but as I looked into Annie’s eyes, all words left my brain...and I don’t know why.

“Earth to Jeff?” She waved her hand in front of my face, taking a step closer to me. I was suddenly aware of her close proximity. Why couldn’t I focus? Why was it impossible for me to see her as anything but Annie? I looked up at her eyes again. Same as always. Big and...beautiful. She was beautiful. I scratched the back of my head.

“I...uh...sorry about that. For some reason, I can’t play pretend when it comes to you.” Annie blushed and looked away before nervously asking, “What do you mean?” It was hard for me to put a finger on what exactly I meant by that. She was just so different from both Britta and Slater that it was hard to pretend that she was them. When I tried to explain this to her, she asked “Is that a good different or…?”

“Of course it’s good.” I replied quickly, cutting off any more of her hesitation. I didn’t want Annie to think that I thought about her in any sort of negative light. I was convinced that she didn’t have a single bad bone in her entire body. It would hurt me to think that she thought otherwise.

“You’re different because with you, it’s like I can see clearly,” I started. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes capturing the last light of the darkening sky, amplifying the oceans of blue I saw. “With Britta, and even Slater when we were officially together, I always felt...blurry. Like I was walking on eggshells. I had to try so hard to not mess up around Slater...to be this perfect boyfriend. Around Britta, I felt no need to improve on my current self. I like that she accepts me for who I am, but I feel like I’m not growing at all around her. Maybe that’s another reason why I’m so confused about this whole thing.” Annie gave me an understanding nod.

“I don’t think you should feel that way about yourself. You’re capable of more than you know,” she said, giving me one of her award-winning Annie smiles. I smiled in return, feeling a certain warmth grow in my chest. “I know you’ve gone through a lot growing up, and that you try to shield yourself from pain and commitment with this cool-guy persona, but I hope you feel that you can be yourself around me. Because I think about you a lot. I want you to know that someone’s always thinking about you even if you feel like no one cares.”

I think this is when I saw it...when everything made sense. I was always able to see and think clearly around Annie because she let me be myself around her...but being around her made me want to be a better person. She always pushed me to be the best version of myself, but not a completely different person. If there was one thing Britta has ever been right about, it was me being jealous of Annie and Vaughn. I didn’t like the idea of someone taking away our adventures together. I hated to admit that to myself. I didn’t want to admit that helping Annie with her Halloween party and debate team was actually a lot of fun. I didn’t want to admit that we made a really good team. I didn’t want to admit that I liked being the reason for her smile. Because admitting all of that would make me a sap--something I swore to never be.

“I didn't know that you thought about me a lot,” I tried to ask casually. Little did she know how fast my heart was beating right now. I saw her rub her arm uncomfortably.

“While Vaughn was driving away, there was still a piece of my heart left at Greendale. I felt it tugging back the farther we went,” she said cautiously. She shyly looked back up at me. At this point, my brain wasn’t functioning I swear.

“Did that piece happen to be me?” I looked at her earnestly. I always knew that Annie was genuine. I wanted to know whether or not whatever I was feeling was reciprocated. Evidently, her brain must have not been functioning either because she leaned timidly leaned forward and touched her lips to mine. I found myself on the verge of getting lost in her, but she pulled away too quickly. Way more quickly than I would have liked. It was a sweet kiss, one that I have never felt before. In that brief moment, I knew which choice I wanted to make. No hesitation. I brought her lips to mine once more for a more passionate kiss. She kissed me back. And it felt like the best thing in the world. My arms encircled her waist and moved to her hair as I felt her pull me closer. This is what I wanted. This is what I needed. She was a choice. And in this moment, I chose Annie above anyone else. This felt right. This was the way it was meant to be.

#community #jeff winger #annie edison #jeff and annie #jeff x annie

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chicgeekgirl89 · 4 years

Text

Where There’s Smoke

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Clay Spenser, Jason Hayes, Ray Perry, Trent Sawyer, Brock Reynolds, Cerberus, Vic Lopez

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“God damn it you scared the mother fucking life out of us,” Trent said, loosening Sonny’s vest as he coughed and gasped for air. Trent was by nature on the quieter side, so anytime he started swearing this much it meant they had genuinely scared him. Apparently almost losing four members of his team was enough to send him over the edge. “Of all the shitty fucking stupid…”

Sonny ignored his buddy’s rant and took in the other members of his team. Ray was talking to Vic who seemed out of it, probably because he’d taken the worst of the smoke down by that hole. And Clay was still pulling Brock through their makeshift escape hatch. Trent was right, this had been a shitty fucking stupid way to nearly go out. “Wash your eyes out,” Trent ordered, shoving a water bottle into his face.

“We ain’t got time—“

“Do it now or I’ll fucking do it for you,” he growled, popping the cap off threateningly.

“Cerb,” Brock was gasping. His face was covered in soot, his eyes wide with panic. “Is he—“

“He’s fine,” Jason said, pouring some water over the dog’s head so he could check for injury. “Better than the rest of you. They mobile?”

“Yeah sooner we get ‘em back the better. They all need oxygen,” Trent said from where he was working to wake up a groggy Vic.

“Let’s move,” Jason ordered.

Clay grabbed Sonny’s arm but Sonny shook him off. “I’m fine,” he rasped and then hacked out a cough that had him doubling over.

“Take a breather,” Clay said.

Sonny shook his head. “We gotta get back,” he wheezed.

Lisa was in trouble. Big trouble. The biggest kind of trouble she’d probably ever been in and none of them were there to help her. If they didn’t get back in time…he couldn’t even think about what losing her would mean for the team. And for him.

“Yeah but if you leave your lungs here it’s not going to help anything,” Clay told him. “I got ya. Come on.” He got under Sonny’s shoulder and helped him to his feet.

“Hold up!” Trent said sharply. He put his head to Vic’s chest. “He’s not breathing.”

Shit. Fucking shit. Sonny could only watch, frozen in fear as Trent began to pump Vic’s chest up and down. They’d killed their rookie on the first run out. It couldn’t end this way. Not here. Not for such a fucking stupid reason.

“Trent?” Jason asked after a long minute.

Trent paused, checking for a pulse and breath sounds. He nodded. “He’s back. Let’s get out of here. If it happens again I’m gonna have to intubate and I’d rather do that onboard than out in the open.”

It was a slog back to the plane. Cerb was whining and making raspy bark sounds, turning Brock into a basket case. Sonny’s chest felt like an elephant had taken up residence, but he wasn’t going to admit that to anybody. By the time they reached the plane he’d really started to feel the effects of nearly becoming burnt toast. His head throbbed and his eyes felt raw and weepy.

Trent and Ray lowered Vic to the ground while Brock collapsed beside him, Cerb nosing his way into his handler’s lap with a sad whine. Clay tried to shove Sonny in their direction but he dug his heels in. “I’m fine.”

“Go sit your ass down over there,” Clay said. “Go!” he said again when Sonny didn’t move. “Trent’s just gonna come after you anyway once he’s done with Brock and Vic.”

Sonny reluctantly took a seat. Trent strapped oxygen onto Vic and began taking his vital signs while Brock collapsed onto a crate and rested his head against the side of the transport, his fingers running repeatedly over Cerb’s back.

“Tell the pilot we’re ready for take-off,” Jason said to Ray. “And put a rush on it.”

It still might not be enough. If they hadn’t gotten trapped. If they’d all just moved a little faster.

Brock started coughing violently, hunching over in his seat. “Hey, hey breathe buddy,” Sonny said, surprised when his voice came out sounding like a bucket of rusty nails. Maybe he wasn’t as all right as he’d thought.

Trent looked up and immediately grabbed two more oxygen masks. “Put this on.” He threw one at Sonny while he strapped the other one to Brock’s face. “You got tightness in your chest?” he asked.

Brock nodded wearily. “Take deep breaths all right? Tell me if it gets worse,” Trent said.

“Is Vic all right?” Sonny asked.

“Put that the fuck on right now,” Trent ordered, reaching over to shove the oxygen mask onto Sonny’s face. “You can take it off when I fucking say you can.”

Still swearing. Still mad. Good to know.

Vic let out a moan and began to stir. “Hey, no, don’t do that,” Trent said grabbing Vic’s hand to keep him from dislodging the oxygen.

Vic fought back, pushing against Bravo Four, his eyes swinging wildly around the plane in obvious confusion. Sonny pulled off his own mask despite Trent’s warning and grabbed Vic’s other arm. “Hey, hey! You’re all right! Calm down. We got you,” he said.

Vic’s eyes found his and Sonny watched some of the panic disappear. “You good?” Trent asked.

He nodded and they both let go. “Deep breaths,” Trent ordered. “Can you sit up?”

Another nod so Trent and Sonny got him up, bracing him against the wall. Trent pulled out a pen light and began to check his eyes. “Don’t see anything in there, but they’re pretty irritated. I’ll get you some saline to wash ‘em out,” he said. “You breathing okay now? It’s not too difficult?”

Vic nodded. “Good man.” Trent squeezed his shoulder and went to get the saline solution.

Clay appeared with a couple wet towels. “Try and get off as much soot off as you can. That stuff is full of carcinogens.”

Leave it to the boy scout to know something like that. Sonny checked his watch and felt his stomach lurch. They weren’t going to make it.

There was a new tightness in his chest now that had nothing to do with smoke or fire. They had to stop this. They had to save her.

“We’ll get there,” Clay said quietly.

“I know,” Sonny said, even though he didn’t believe it.

It was unsettling how much the whole thing was affecting him. When they’d been trapped, when smoke had filled that room, all he could think about was how much regretted the whole thing. How he hated the way he’d pushed her out. How he had been too wrapped up in his own damn hurt and anger to see that she was drowning. And instead of offering her a lifeline like family should, he’d pushed her away.

He was an asshole.

He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, but choked instead, chest squeezing so tightly he thought his spine might snap. “Sonny, you all right?” Clay asked.

He shook his head, unable to stop the barking, choking hack coming from his lungs. “Trent!” Clay yelled. “Lie down. Son of a bitch Sonny lie down!”

He shoved Sonny onto his back, pressing the oxygen back over his face. His vision became fuzzy at the edges as Trent appeared. He felt like he was back underwater again, his lungs filling up, killing him from the inside out.

There was a sharp pain in his thigh and then everything went grey for a long while.

When he came to he was still on the floor, his head in Trent’s lap. “If you fucking move I will kill you,” Trent growled, his hands firmly clamped onto Sonny’s shoulders.

Moving didn’t really feel like it was on the menu so he didn’t even try. His lungs seemed to kind of be working again, but his limbs were heavy and his eyes begged to close again. He forced them open, forced his brain to work. If they were going to save Davis they needed everybody.

From his semi-upright position he could see Brock completely zonked out on Cerb’s side. Vic looked pale, his eyes red rimmed, but he was upright, drinking some water, a protein bar on the seat beside him.

“How is he?” Jason approached, his face newly stitched up.

“Better now that he’s not being a fucking idiot,” Trent said. “They all need to get checked out back at the base.”

Sonny felt a flare of panic and struggled against Trent’s grasp. “But Davis—“

Trent gripped his shoulders tighter. “I’m fucking fine!” Sonny protested.

“You almost went into respiratory arrest!”

Jason held up a hand. “We’ll take care of things with Davis. Then you get checked out. All three of you.” He turned so Vic could see him. The kid nodded tiredly. Jason pointed a finger at Sonny. “No excuses. You see a real doctor. Not one who’s using her stripper money to pay her way through medical school.”

“Scout’s honor,” Sonny rasped.

He’d do anything if it meant getting Lisa out of trouble. He owed her that much.

#Sometimes I write for other fandoms #SEAL Team #Whump #Smoke Inhalation #Unbecoming an Officer #Sonny Quinn #Jason Hayes #Clay Spenser #Vic Lopez #Ray Perry #Brock Reynolds #Trent Sawyer #Cerberus #Sonny Quinn Whump

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hellyeahomeland · 4 years

Text

“The English Teacher”: an HYH recap

This mindfuck of an episode picks up about a day or so after last week’s episode. Carrie is being held in a “subbasement” (a basement in the basement?) at Langley and has started to disassociate a bit. I would too! This reality is fucked!

Anyway, a nice lawyer man comes to retrieve her and does a bit of plot exposition:

Saul hired him to represent Carrie at the preliminary hearing.

Saul arranged for Carrie’s release and also paid the bond.

Saul is letting Carrie stay at his house!

Basically Saul is being the coolest he’s been re: Carrie in like seven years.

There was a car bomb at the Afghan/Pakistani border that killed a whole special ops crew and injured one CIA officer named Jenna Bragg, who was sent back to the US out of an abundance of caution. Oh, and Jenna was called to testify against Carrie at the hearing.

Don’t fucking talk to anyone until the hearing, especially not a specific person who’s meant to testify against you, capiche?

In the West Wing, things are messy as hell. Evil Spawn John Zabel is arguing that Pakistan was behind the suicide bomb and that’s yet another reason to invade. Saul argues it was just Haqqani; after all Pakistan lost some guys too. Zabel is all, “IT’S THEIR FUCKING COUNTRY” and says Linus should resign. Mandy starts swearing at Hugh Saul starts swearing at Zabel, he’s really fucking mad. Linus envisions new ways to get swallowed whole. Maybe dinosaurs will come back from extinction? It’s just a massive screaming match—actually very entertaining—and Saul’s big solution is “backchannel talks,” and Zabel’s brain nearly short circuits at the suggestion of diplomacy instead of military invasion. Hayes just looks like he’d rather be literally any fucking place doing any fucking thing except this.

Carrie is settling into Saul’s very lovely DC home when Saul arrives, worn and weary from his no good very bad day. Although it can’t possibly have been worse than Carrie’s, which is saying something. Carrie makes her first move, pokes around a bit about the Russian asset. Saul flatly denies it, then pours himself a drink (same). He eyes a bookcase full of old, leather-bound red books and then—

It’s 1986 in East Berlin. A young Saul, played by BEN SAVAGE (that’s right, it’s CORY MATTHEWS), who does bear a striking resemblance to Mandy Patinkin, walks into a bookstore and picks up one of those same, old red books from the display. He heads into the back of the store and then a young woman enters and cocks a pistol in his direction. He brings his hands up in surrender.

The next day at Walter Reed Hospital, Carrie defies all good legal advice and pays a visit to Jenna, who’s being discharged.

Jenna: OH MY FUCKING GOD, LOSE MY NUMBER. Carrie: Ok I know you’re furious with me, just know you join a very large and enthusiastic club on that front. But please listen to me. Jenna: Furious? Dude, that special ops crew is all dead. That’s on you. Carrie: It’s horrible, I know. But a suicide bomber did that. Not me, and not you. Jenna: You’re delusional. Carrie: You join another very large and enthusiastic club in that position, but just hear me out! You have nothing to do for the next two minutes while you wait for your Uber. Jenna: Not if I speed walk! Carrie: I found the black box. Do you even care what was on it? Probs not, but I’ll just keep talking. The president’s helicopter was not shot down! It was mechanical failure. Jenna: Hm… that is interesting. So where is it now? Carrie: That hot Russian guy stole it from me. Jenna: OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU ARE A MESS. Carrie: I just need a few days to get it back. I know you’re supposed to testify and I truly don’t give two fucks what you say to them, but if you could just wait a week that would be awesome. Jenna: Well, what’s your plan? Carrie: They offered me a trade. But I can’t really say much more than that. Jenna: What is with you spies and your secrets? Carrie: Ok fine. Saul has an asset high up in the Kremlin. I need to find out who it is. Jenna: Good fucking luck getting onto a Langley computer. Not that you’d know how to use it. Carrie: [loaded silence] Jenna: OH MY GOD. I’m tattling to Saul.

And Jenna does book it straight to Saul’s office but has to wait a bit because Saul’s on the phone with Tasneem, who is in New York City at the UN and remains maximum pissed. From the time her plane took off to when it landed the US moved more troops right along their border. Saul says some things about how everyone in the US is crazy and it’s all very ~prescient~ but he thinks if they can just take out Jalal, Hayes and Zabel might back down. Tasneem once again claims they have no idea where he is. Saul asks for a target, any plausible coordinates. Tasneem agrees.

Enter Jenna. She is very prepared to expose just how big of a crazy person Carrie is when Saul is like, “hold up, little lady, it’s all true.” He’s taking this “back up Carrie at all costs” thing to a whole new level. He says that, no matter her mistakes, Carrie never loses sight of the bigger picture. Everything she does is in service of that. The tribunal will attempt to get Jenna to contribute to whatever bullshit charges they come up with, but Jenna needs to do like Carrie: decide what matters. Decide what kind of person she is.

Later, Carrie is at the arraignment, and the judge starts listing off charges. It’s pretty bad. Treason, accessory to murder, etc. She starts to have a tiny panic attack in the courtroom and thankfully holds her vomit for the restroom. There, she’s approached by a prim-looking woman named Charlotte Benson, “a friend of Yevgeny’s.” (Eagle-eyed viewers will recognize her from last season with Ivan.) Carrie’s like, “fuck that guy and fuck you too” but Charlotte is unfazed, hands her her card, and says they have resources. All you have to do is call.

In the simultaneously most and least surprising event of the season, at the tribunal, Jenna decides what type of person she is and it’s the type with a mind of her own. She gets about four seconds into the thing before she bolts.

At the White House, Zabel reveals that—whadya know!—the Pakistanis did know where Jalal was. At least, they said they do. They just provided coordinates and everyone’s in the situation room waiting to pull the trigger. Saul hurries down and watches as they bomb the entire compound. “Fuck yeah!” Hayes exclaims as everyone applauds, definitely 100% sure they just killed Jalal. Saul makes a beeline for the exit and tells Linus he’s going to New York.

Later, Jenna is waiting for Carrie at Saul’s with a folder full of information. It’s about the exfiltration that Carrie mentioned that went south. The man attended a KGB language school but he spooked and Saul had to get him out quickly. Minefields and shit. He’s been in Pennsylvania in Witness Protection ever since. So he can’t be Saul’s asset but maybe he knows who is.

Jenna: You sure you want to betray Saul? Carrie: I’m 100% sure I want to do the opposite of that, but I have no choice. Jenna: You’re right, I guess. But I’m done with all this shit. Carrie: “Done”? Never heard of it. Jenna: I’m through with this, the CIA, all of it. Carrie: Wait, so you finally used your brain and that’s the decision you came to? You don’t have the thrill of having figured something out? You don’t feel a physical and emotional high? Jenna: Uh no?? I feel sick to my stomach about the special ops team. That comes down on me. And whoever this asset is will be tortured too. That’s my big picture. I’ve tried to see it your way, but I can’t. I just don’t believe it anymore. Carrie: Believe what? Jenna/Quinn’s ghost: That anything justifies the damage we do.

Carrie ruminates on that for about 2.4 seconds before she’s on to the next thing, which is a road trip to Pennsylvania. She arrives in her librarian cosplay, hair in a ponytail, eyeglasses, the whole shebang. She’s at the house of Saul’s old asset, the one who’s in Witness Protection. She introduces herself as Heather Frith (great fake name) and says she works as an archiver for the CIA’s Chief Historian, which is a job just fake-sounding enough to probably be real. She wants details about what happened with his exfiltration, details that aren’t in the file. He is suspicious at first, but she calls his bluff, and he takes her out to his garage to relive the story.

He describes Saul then as something of a hero. He had everything in the exfiltration down like clockwork. When one of the mines exploded, he literally carried him over the border. Carrie asks what happened to the rest of the cadets in his class, and he says they were all killed for failing to prevent his defection. She spots a woman in an old photograph then. He didn’t know her name, she just went by Comrade Instructor. She was their English teacher. Then Carrie eyes an old red book. He explains it was their method for arranging a meeting. You move the book from the right to the left side of the display window. “Very Saul. He liked the old ways. Things hidden in plain sight.”

…Which makes for a nice segue to New York City. Saul’s at UN headquarters, where Pakistan has requested a vote against the US for being general dicks and warmongers. Saul then pulls a Quinn in “Q&A” (or maybe a Carrie in “Tin Man Is Down”) and makes a huge scene at the meeting, screaming at the Russian delegation about the flight recorder. An older blonde woman translates for the delegation as he shouts. Resident hottie Scott Ryan escorts Saul out and the Russians have a powwow within earshot of said woman. What was all that about a flight recorder? One of them says Yevgeny Gromov is running an operation and leaves it at that. Cue that woman later in a rare bookstore. She eyes another of those old red leather-bound editions.

We flashback again to 1986. That woman in the bookstore is the woman holding Saul at gunpoint. She is the English teacher at the language school. She is disgusted at what happened to her students—put up against a wall and shot—and wants to take the place of Saul’s asset. Saul feigns ignorance and says she must be confusing him with someone else.

The next five minutes are a masterpiece. Back at Saul’s house in present day, Carrie finally takes an interest in his unique collection of old red books. She flips through them and notes that each has a date on the inside front cover. 11.14.2009. 3.14.95. 3.5.1987. She lines them up in the living room, by year, next to significant events in the ongoing Russian/American intelligence battle. Chernobyl cover-up in 1986. Gorbachev coup in 1989. Aldrich Ames in 1993. Robert Hanssen in 2000. Crimea in 2014. Active measures in the 2016 election.

In his NY hotel room, Saul has a book delivery for one Professor Rabinow. Send it right up.

Carrie surveys her makeshift timeline. She picks up the next book, Vanity Fair. The subtitle on the inside reads “A NOVEL WITHOUT A HERO,” in case the audience had any doubts. She picks up another and notices the Russian spelling of “Moscow” on the inside back cover. She begins flipping through others in the timeline looking for the same tag. No, no, no, yes. She smiles that same knowing, exhilarated smile. It really is like a high. She whittles the Moscow books down to just eight now.

Saul gets his package, which is—whoulda thunk?!—an old red book, and takes it into the bathroom. Carrie examines one of the books, flipping through the pages. She checks the back cover—maybe something hidden in the lining?—but no luck.

Saul flips this new book upside down, brings the covers up in a ‘V’ to expose a space on the spine. In his living room, Carrie does the same thing. There it is: an opening, just small enough for a message. Carrie exhales, eyes wide, at the discovery. Delicately Saul retrieves a small piece of paper and holds it up to the light. He reads: “THE PRICE HAS ALREADY BEEN ASKED. IT’S YEVGENY GROMOV’S PLAY.”

A middle-aged Ben Savage playing a young Saul Berenson walks through the streets of Berlin late at night before he’s accosted by some Soviets requesting his papers. They think he’s CIA. He gets a few punches in (yes, Saul!) before running down a dead-end alley. All of a sudden he hears gunshots, braces for injury. But it’s the men who’ve been shot, and by the English teacher Anna. “Do you trust me now?” she says.

In present day, Saul stands silently in his hotel room, contemplating this new knowledge. Carrie’s lied to him about Yevgeny, that much he knows. But what else has she kept from him?

Carrie also has new knowledge, and she’s taking it straight to Yevgeny. Charlotte Benson drives her to a huge, empty mansion to speak with him.

Charlotte: Empty for two years. Owners are asking too much. Carrie: Hey, just like our show!

Charlotte leads her to a room and computer where Yevgeny is waiting on a video conference. Carrie is not at all pleased to see her Russian boyfriend.

She says that the asset exists. Yevgeny is the opposite of enthusiastic. Saul probably recruited her in East Berlin in 1986. She knows how they communicate. “How?” Yevgeny asks. “That’s not how this works,” Carrie replies, trying to maintain the upper hand for as long as possible. Yevgeny asks for a name. Carrie doesn’t have it but can get it if he provides some KGB records. She needs some stuff from the language school, but Yevgeny explains it’s all lost, burned by the “freedom lovers” after the Berlin Wall came down. They’ve gone down this road before, did Carrie really think she was the first to figure out that connection?

Carrie gets frustrated and nearly walks out of the meeting when Yevgeny reminds her of the stakes at play: America and Pakistan on the literal brink of full-scale war.

Yevgeny: Besides, you haven’t done everything you can. Carrie: Meaning what? Yevgeny: Take out Saul. That will neutralize the asset. Carrie: Saul has a legacy plan. If he goes, he has a plan to pass the asset onto someone else. Yevgeny: Yes, exactly. And that someone else is … Carrie: [mind blown] Yevgeny: …you. Carrie: You… you played me. You knew it would come to this. How long have you been planning this? Do you derive extra special pleasure from fucking with me? Yevgeny: I hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but like you said, you tried everything.

He tells her to do it—to kill Saul. Her eyes fill with tears as she shuts the computer and walks out. The lights go black behind her.

#homeland #an hyh recap #the english teacher #*#by: sara

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tiberiusjeffersonkippen · 5 years

Text

Dancing for You

Here’s chapter two! Thanks to everyone who liked the beginning! Here’s the AO3 link.

Summary: As Cyrus prepares a dance for his high school’s talent show, he finds himself entangled in a new friendship with none other than TJ Kippen, Grant High School’s resident jock. Only good things can come from new friends…right?

Words: 2087

Chapter 2

“Good morning Grant High!” The voice of Grant’s principal, Mr. Hayes, rang out from the loudspeaker. Although he usually paid attention to the announcements (unlike most of his peers), Cyrus could barely even keep his eyes open. He was really tired out from the talent show, and he almost overslept. He listened to the announcements as best he could, but his “best” ended up being falling half-asleep for everything but the very first and very last announcements. He zoned back in just as Mr. Hayes finished with “And please go vote for all of our very talented students who performed last night! Videos and the ballot can be found on the school’s website!”

“Does he not understand that you literally can not vote for ‘all’ of the performers?” sniggered Buffy, who sat next to Cyrus in first period Spanish.

“Oh, you know Mr. Hayes,” said Cyrus as he yawned. He really needed to get more sleep. “Besides, it’s a nice gesture, right?”

“You’re too nice, Cyrus.”

“Well someone has to stick up for the guy. All everyone ever does it makes fun of him.”

“Principal’s pet,” teased Buffy.

“Whatever. Let’s get down to business before Senora Gonzalez yells at us.”

Cyrus drifted through school as a zombie. He was probably going to have to relearn everything he was taught that day, but he was too exhausted to care. His math teacher even noticed that he was more tired than she’d ever seen him! After almost running into several people in the hallway (including one who Cyrus swore didn’t even go to Grant), Cyrus somehow got himself to history on time. Granted, he was literally the last person to arrive when he was usually one of the first, but Cyrus was willing to count it as a win. Unfortunately for him, someone had decided to appropriate his typical seat (which was the best one in the entire room, if you asked Cyrus), leaving the only open seat at the end of the last row, next to TJ Kippen. Cyrus groaned, but he couldn’t help but be somewhat satisfied with the temporary change. As much as he hated the back row, Cyrus was dying to have another conversation with TJ, and, more importantly, find out what the heck ‘Underdog’ meant.

However, before Cyrus could even open his mouth to ask TJ, Mr. Forbes started class. ‘That’s right,’ thought Cyrus. ‘I’m not as early as I usually am, so I don’t have time to chit-chat like I usually do.’

“Good morning class! I hope you all got the chance to go see the talent show last night! Let me tell you, Grant has some very talented students! In fact, we even have a very skilled dancer in this class! Our own Cyrus Goodman killed it last night!”

“Thanks,” Cyrus mumbled while the entire class turned to look at him. He really did not need the entire class to be very aware of his dancing abilities. Sure, he did decide to go and dance in front of hundreds of his peers, but he didn’t expect any of them to talk to him about it. Now, Mr. Forbes was practically inviting them to! Although, Cyrus supposed, he already had someone talk to him about it. TJ. In the bathroom of the Spoon.

Speaking of TJ, when Cyrus glanced over at him, he found a very soft and a very not-intimidating TJ staring back, before he shuddered and looked away. Cyrus was really going to have to interrogate him later.

“Anyway, we are going to begin our decades projects today! Now, they won’t be due until about a month after the AP test (which let me remind you is in three weeks!), but I wanted to give you guys ample time to come up with great ideas! This will be a partner project, so I’ll give you guys some time to pick partners after I’ve explained the entire project.”

Anxiety spiked through Cyrus. None of his friends were in this class! He looked over each of his classmates. Steph would pair up with Katie, Andrew would go with Victoria, Alex and Oscar would probably work together, Kira was too bossy and too much of a perfectionist, and Reed was too much of a dumbass (Cyrus wasn’t even sure how he got into AP US). Maybe he could work with Leo? His locker was right next to Cyrus’s, and he always seemed nice.

“So, without any further ado, I release you to the Battle Royale that is the picking of project partners!” announced Mr. Forbes (ever the dramatist), and the chaos began.

Cyrus stood up and started to make a beeline for Leo, but then TJ knocked over the tall pile of papers and folders that was sitting on Cyrus’s desk. By the time he finished cleaning everything up, Lester had already claimed Leo, and everyone one else had partnered up. Except for TJ.

“Guess we’re stuck together, huh?” said TJ, although he didn’t seem to be too disappointed about it.

“I guess so,” said Cyrus as he sat back down. Since he was already sitting next to TJ, there was no need to move to another spot.

“Kippen and Goodman? There’s a pair I never thought I’d see,” said Mr. Forbes while he wrote their names down next to a decade. “You two will have the 80s. Don’t mess it up! I am entrusting you with the decade of my youth!”

“Forbes is such a dork,” TJ said after their teacher walked away to assign decades to the other groups.

“I know, but it’s sweet. What other teacher is willing to be that goofy with their students?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” TJ paused a moment before a grin broke out on his face. “Did you watch those videos of him that Reed found?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you in the groupchat?” After Cyrus shook his head no, TJ continued “Oh, give me your number and I’ll add you. Anyway, there are these videos of him on YouTube where he’s telling stories. One of them is about him selling all of his belongings and going backpacking across Europe.”

“There is no way he actually did that.”

“I dunno, he does have that glimmer in his eyes…” TJ’s sentence drifted off and they both started at their teacher for a moment before Cyrus brought them back to the task at hand.

“Well, I guess we should get started.”

“Yeah, I guess.” A beat passed. “So,” TJ continued, “Do you have any idea what we should get started on?”

“Not really? Brainstorming is probably the place to start, and I don’t know about you, but personally, I think my brain is feeling pretty calm right now.” Cyrus was expecting a response, and he got one, but not in the form he thought he would get. Instead of using his words, like, y’know, any decent person, TJ started laughing.

‘Great,’ though Cyrus. ‘He’s finally come to his senses and realized what a joke this is and now he’ll try to weasel out of being my partner, which is perfectly fine by me because I probably would’ve ended doing it all anyw-’

“That’s a good one, Underdog,” TJ said, (quite rudely) interrupting Cyrus’s inner monologue. “Mind if I use it?”

“Wait, you mean you weren’t just laughing at me?”

“What? I was laughing at what you said, not at you.”

“Oh,” Cyrus swallowed. “Well, how stormy is your brain feeling right now?”

“I’d said pretty stormy.” TJ grinned, but Cyrus could just barely hear TJ add an “as always” onto the end of his statement. As much as Cyrus would have loved to dive into what TJ meant, he decided against it. If TJ did in fact not hate him (which seemed to be the case), Cyrus was not about to go and ruin it.

“I guess we can get started with that then?” he said instead.

“Sound like a plan.”

Twenty minutes and more than a couple of pieces of paper later, TJ and Cyrus had come up with approximately one hundred million ideas, none of them very good.

“What even happened in the 80s?” groaned TJ as he crumpled up another piece of paper and expertly shot it into the trash can.

“Three minutes twenty-three seconds to three minutes thirty-four seconds,” said Cyrus.

“Huh?”

“‘We Didn’t Start the Fire.’ You know, where it goes ‘Wheel of fortune, Sally Ride, heavy metal suicide/foreign debts, homeless vets, AIDS, crack, Bernie Goetz/hypodermics on the shore, China’s under martial law/Rock and Roller coaster wars’? It happens between three minutes and twenty-three seconds and three minutes and thirty seconds.”

“One, how the fuck do you know that? Two, HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW THAT?!”

“I thought it would be valuable information when I was like 12.”

“Seriously? You have got to be the most interesting person I know, Underdog.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I’m that interesting. And what’s with that nickname? That’s like the third time you’ve called me ‘Underdog.’”

Before TJ could answer, the bell rung. “I’ll keep trying to come up with ideas!” he called as he went out the door. “I’ll let you know if I think of any good ones!”

“You guys are NOT going to believe this!” Cyrus said, sitting down with at his lunch table.

“What is it, Cy? Did they overstock chocolate chocolate muffins and are giving the extras away for free?” responded Buffy.

“Haha, very funny.”

“What? 9 times out of 10, when you are yelling in the cafeteria, it’s about those damn muffins!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“While I am sure that that would be a very entertaining argument to listen to for twenty minutes, I want to know what Cyrus was going to tell us,” interrupted Andi.

“Oh! So you know how I had that conversation with TJ Kippen yesterday?” said Cyrus.

“Yeah, did you ever figure out what that was all about? And the whole ‘Underdog’ thing?” said Jonah.

“I’ll get to that. So today Mr. Forbes has us pick partners for the decades project. And somehow I ended up being partners with TJ! And for some reason he seems happy about this! And then he called me Underdog again, like twice!”

“I’m starting to wonder what exactly his motives are,” said Buffy.

“Me too! But don’t you think he would’ve just shoved me or something if he wanted to mess with me? It’s so much easier than being forced to spend time with me.”

“Maybe he just wants to get a good grade on the assignment?” suggested Andi.

“Maybe,” said Cyrus.

“Speak of the devil,” muttered Buffy, and, before he could ask what she meant, Cyrus felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to face a grinning Kippen.

“Hey! I just has an absolutely amazing idea for our project!” TJ said excitedly.

“Well? What is it!” responded Cyrus.

“So you know how you were talking about that one section of ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’ that’s about the 80s? What if we rewrote it be entirely about that decade!”

“Hmm, an iconic song filled with events of an iconic decade? I think that’s a great idea! We’d probably have to write a more detailed explanation and analysis about the events, but it would definitely work!”

“Awesome! I guess we can figure out when to get together and work on it tomorrow?”

“Sounds like a plan! See you in history!”

“See ya in history!”

When Cyrus turned back around to continue his lunch and conversation with his friends, he was met with a couple of shit-eating grins.

“What?” he asked.

“You seemed a little enthusiastic about that exchange,” teased Andi.

“Yeah, I could literally hear the exclamation points at the ends of your sentences,” added Buffy.

“What are you guys talking about?” asked Cyrus.

“They’re talking about how you obviously like TJ,” said Jonah without looking up from his phone.

After a beat of shocked silence from the others at the table, Jonah looked up. “What? I’m not as oblivious as you all think I am,” he said, and laughter erupted from the table.

“But seriously,” said Buffy as she tried to suppress giggles, “you so totally like him!”

“I so totally do not!”

“Okay…” said Buffy, and they all went back to eating their lunches.

“Oh, hi TJ!” said Andi.

“TJ?” Cyrus whipped around, but TJ was nowhere to be seen. Andi and Buffy, however, were giggling uncontrollably behind him.

“Yep, you don’t like him at all,” said Andi.

“Oh, shut up.”

#andi mack #tyrus #tyrus fic #andi mack fic #Dancing for You fic #my writing #let's go chapter two

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currently-evil · 5 years

Text

“My window!!!”

Hey @smuteczekbiczo Do you remember that video? Because i saw it again and lol Its perfect for Jed so i couldn’t stop myself. Also forgive me but Jed here is a Mob boss. I know your cannon is different but i decided to ignore it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

M!Sidestep namely our favourite goblin Jed Hayes, Sidestep’s base infiltrated by nameless vigilante and Jed reluctantly dealing with that

Varning for a bit of gore and minor character death

2074 words

-All right, a little bit to the left. – commanded Jed pointing with his gun to the centre of a big tarp, spread on the floor and even taped to the wall in some places, so that it was neatly covering corner of the room. Beside smell of fresh paint, It was last remnants of renovation.

-Now I have faith in Nehal, but for you Pelago – left is the opposite of right. – he finished, suppressing smirk as Nehal snorted and Pelago send him irritated look grunting out sarcastic: “Thanks Boss”, before they both picked up squirming Callsaver - a minor Vigilante - who somehow managed to find Sidestep’s new base. Not that it matter, now that he was beaten, tied up, gagged, seconds from being killed and bleeding on Jed’s polished floor.

It’s not that Jed was squeamish about blood. Truth to be told – It was quite the opposite - but the base was brand new. They – and ‘they’ of course meant ‘his team’ – literally finished painting few hours ago (Jed was nice enough to stand in the middle of the room and pinpoint all the places they need to repaint – at least until he got bored, then he went out to buy burger and shake.). And - as it turned out in the old base – blood and spilled brain were a nightmare when it comes to cleaning.

Sure they added nice touch to the Villain aesthetic, a little detail that made their last place look exactly how base of Sidestep should look. Dark, chilling, possibly murderous, making hair stood out from fear. But what also comes with them was less than pleasant.

Smell and fucking bugs, among other things. Who would have thought that spilled intestines weren’t really hygienic, right? Something Jed definitely wasn’t going to deal with. Not to mention that, maybe he didn’t care, but It couldn’t be said the same about some of his people. They seem to - almost religiously - avoid stepping on russet stains on the floor. In the last months when they were absolutely everywhere, watching as his team was almost jumping or fucking leaping from one corner of the room to another, like they were in the middle of some kind weird dance was really pissing him off. In moments like this he was really considering if it’s not too late to work alone again.

Sure, there had to be somewhere specialised cleaning units to do just that - get rid of any evidence of violence - but the thought of letting strangers enter his base and snoop around, made Jed uncomfortable. He would have to kill them after they were done (which really denied whole purpose of them in the first place) or clean their minds of any memories and then give then fake ones, so they wouldn’t question empty hole in their minds and...

Jed took a sip from a shake he had in other hand.

... And he was truly too lazy to do that. Too much effort. And beside why should he do that, if he had a loyal subjects, who could – to some degree – take care of that.

So all that was left was to get a new base.

New base that was already somehow infiltrated.

That being said he glanced where Callsaver was and clicked his tongue.

-Not that much to the left! Come on, centre! Centre! Really, am in the only one here with any sense of space? I can’t really explain better where centre is. Between right and left, Pelago, for fuck sake!

It took them a bit of cursing and lots of irritated looks (He might even heard Nehal telling vigilante: “Dude, stop squirming.” which made Jed snort. It’s not like he was about to die or something.), but at least they managed to position him just right. Jed took a last uninterested look sipping his drink and raised his guns, finger emotionlessly tightening on the trigger.

Callsaver slumped against the wall Nehal and Pelago were pining him to and Jed considered his work. The droplets of blood and grim covered almost all the space on the sheet of plastic but as far as he could see none of them were on the wall.

Nodding to himself he said:

-Perfect, I am proud of me. – then noticing that his shake was gone he added. – Hurry up. We’re going for some shakes.

Nehal and Pelago smiled to themselves from where they were checking Callsaver’s pockets (“The deadman don’t fucking need spare change” argued always Pelago.), or well his boots (It was just Nehal’s size! Finding nice pair for her small feet was a nightmare and she wasn't about to let that pair slip.) and chuckled, leaning closer to themselves.

-Do you think he is going to actually pay this time? – she asked hissing in triumph when she managed to take off one boot. – Or rather use his favourite excuse: “Opsie Daisy I have seem to left my wallet in my other Villain suit!”

In answer Pelago smirked.

-I don’t think he even have wallet anymore. Didn’t he burn it down? Something about ‘at least i stop finding pictures of that fucking idiot in it’ or something?

Nehal was just about to answer, but before she could - suddenly there was a loud crash and the room was full of glass shards.

They all gaped at the man who jumped through window, rolled on the floor like it was some sort of action movie, before standing up and dramatically proclaiming:

-Let him go!

Nehal and Pelago exchanged quick look before glancing down at the definitely dead Callsaver.

-Ops – said quietly Nehal, her voice absolutely devoid of any trace of remorse.

-It’s not so bad... – murmured Pelago, eyeing the corpse. – Maybe he won’t notice.

-What? A whole hole in his forehead?

-Yeah. – he just shrugged. – It’s not he was using his head anyway. No harm done.

-Oh my god, I can’t believe you said that.

It seem only when nobody answered him directly, staring in silence, did hero look around, because second he did he froze blinking heavily. Probably because he saw quite dead Callsaver, before him, together with Pelago trying to quickly hide deadman’s wallet in his pocket and Nehal, who not knowing what exactly to with one boot, just threw it away as soon as hero looked at her. And then there was also Jed, gaping at the – now broken window – with empty shake in one hand and gun in second.

-You killed him – said the newcomer confused. Not even scared or sad, just confused. – Why did you kill him...?

-My window... – said Jed quietly but with so much irritation that everybody in the room flinched and even Zaza and Ward showed in the doorway alarmed.

-Oh fuck – murmured Zaza.

-Why did you kill him...?

-We have a front door! - interrupted him Jed hissing, gesturing with gun in the general direction where doors were. -Painting was just finished so it’s wide fucking open to ventilate!- Just when he said that he leaned to the right peering around the corner to see that door were indeed wide open.

Jed squinted at hero.

-Are you fucking blind or something?

-Didn’t you tell him your backstory and evil plan? – said newcomer not even acknowledging what Jed said, making him turn to hero with fury in his eyes.

-What? No! Its none of your fucking business. For fuck sake why would I? I don’t need free therapy, I already have one battery like idiot for that! – his eyes trailed back to the window. – Oh for fuck sake, I will have to steal so much money for that. Ward, can you get me an estimate on that? – he asked ignoring again hero.

Ward looked up on window, raised eyebrows and looking back to Jed said only, shrugging:

-Money.

Jed pursed his lips.

-I don’t know what I was expecting.

This seem to wake up hero from shocked stillness, as he blinked and straightening screamed:

-You’re going to pay for your crimes!

-Yeah of course I am going to pay. – Jed scowled at hero. – Who else will? I am pretty sure you don’t have a cash on you to pay me for damage. Check? Debit card? Anything?

When Hero only blinked at him Jed closed his eyes murmuring under his nose about ‘fucking heroes, doing everything they want without even thinking about others’. And then again ignoring newcomer, he added exasperated:

-Excuse me can somebody call Frank and tell him we need new window?

-On it boss. – said Zaza.

-What...? You can’t ignore me like that! – screamed hero almost drowning Jed’s murmurs about ‘rude as fuck heroes without manners’ and how ‘when he was younger people don’t fucking shattered your windows just to be extra’. He was so distracted at being dismissed he didn’t even notice Nehal and Pelago sneaking up from behind until they both lounged at him forcing him to concentrate on them.

At the same time Jed – completely blind to the mayhem – contemplated mess around him.

It was new, perfect base and the renovation went surprisingly smooth and quickly. He managed to find perfect windows. Everything was going so well and now his Villain’s base was ruined! With distaste Jed remembered that there were reports about rain later today, which meant that this gaping hole where used to be window needs to be taped down with foil.

Absolutely disgusting.

Now he needs to let in more people to replace this, which mean more people to clean their minds.

Jed curled his finger around cup until plastic started squeaking from force. This was so fucking irritating.

-And what’s with this colour? – asked hero cheekily while ducking from Nehal’s punch and blocking Pelago’s attack. – This is the weirdest shade of purple I have ever seen. Like somebody eat blue and pink cotton candy and then vomited.

Before Jed was seriously pissed but now, now he was furious.

-It’s a Midnight Blue Indigo, you colorblind fuck! – he growled, turning on his heels and chugging plastic cup to hit hero right in the middle of forehead.

Impact of cup to his head made poor vigilante almost fall, and before he could try regain his balance, he was kicked in the chest. Stumbling backwards he was suddenly perfectly between spread out plastic sheet…

...And Jed’s raised gun.

Shoot ringed in the air and hero joined his dead companion.

For a second there was just the sound of ringing shot, interrupted briefly by Nehal and Pelago panting - and then there was Bo in the doorway happily announcing to everybody:

-Hey guys! – he said holding up roll of foil. – I found foil! Now we can “wrap it up” and get going. – he giggled. – Get it? Wrap it up? Eh? Eh? – It seems only when nobody answered him Bo realised something was wrong.

He blinked surprised seeing glass shards everywhere, then his eyes trailed across the room taking in all the details, until his eyes stopped on the bodies. Bodies. Not one body.

He looked down on his roll of foil, then again at bodies then again at foil. Foil that might have been enough for one body but definitely not for two.

-I will... look for more. – he mumbled defeated, leaving the room at the same time Zaza came back, ending his call.

-Boss – he said making Jed stop with fury cursing all the damn Heroes. – Frank said It would be two weeks before he will have a new window.

-Oh for fuck sake – hissed Jed with anger turning to pill of bodies fuelling his anger in one last kick.

Zaza side eyed him carefully and when Jed seem to calm down a bit, he cleared his throat.

-Boss, do you take constructive criticism?

Jed leveled him with annoyed gaze.

-No, i absolutely do not.

-But don’t you think these windows are a bit too... – Zaza raise one eyebrow watching remained windows. Big, round and consisting of one-way mirror.- ... hmm eye-catching for a secret villain base?

-Shut up – hissed Jed, looking at him from behind his shoulder

-No shake for you – he finished after moment of glowering.

Zaza blinked shocked.

-What? You weren’t going to buy me one anyway!

-Yes, but now you wont get one ever again.

#Jed Hayes #fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero #no spoilers i think #all jed wants is just to kill people in peace #leave him be #writing

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timespanner · 5 years

Text

The Dan in the High Castle

A transcript of the second episode of Time Spanner, The Dan in the High Castle

Script by Simon Kane (@slepkane)

Transcript by @lothiriel84 and @my-sun-my-baelish

Laika: (voice-over) Earth. They called it that, because they were standing on it. I left because – well, I suppose there are a number of reasons I left, but I was never told them, because I’m a dog. That’s right, Laika here. They call me that because I like things. (laughter) Only joking. It’s Russian for ‘barker’. Yes, I’m Russian. And female, actually. And dead, although I still don’t know why. But, you know how you’re not supposed to leave a dog in a car with closed windows? Well, I was put in a rocket and shot into space. But why choose me to tell the story of a man who two years ago was tasked with saving the world? Is it because it didn’t go very well? Or, because Martin Gay, a man who on the third of November 2016 was sent through an alchemist’s mirror into a sort of magic space Heaven, a man who there met a fiery angel who ordered him to steal a spanner from a giant robot that would grant him the power to jaunt the length, breadth, and when-th of all of time and space, a man who was then returned to reality from this realm of angels and robots with a specific mission to save his world using innovations he must steal from the future, a plan whose exact logic had yet to be tested – is it because he, like me, is propelled by a technology of higher beings that could be used for both good, and bad things? Or, am I simply telling this story because it will turn out to be a love story, and I am a dog who can never go home? Let’s find out!

Time Spanner, by Simon Kane

The Dan in the High Castle

Laika: (voice-over) It is the year 2018 (SFX: clap of thunder, followed by the sound of hail falling) and through the foot-thick window of a hail-lashed chrome cylinder the one time reality star of Judo TV’s Cash of the Titans surveys his city.

Voice over the intercom: Lord Kraken?

Lord Kraken: Speak.

Voice over the intercom: We’ve picked up their signal, Sir.

Lord Kraken: Excellent work, my Yellowcoats. Bring them to me. Use force if you have to.

Voice over the intercom: Thank you, Lord.

Lord Kraken: At last. Robot, bring me my cape.

Laika: (voice-over) That, as I said, is 2018. On the third of November 2016, Daniel Kraken had none of this. (SFX: sirens) But he did have a branch of Kraken Self-Storage in Brixton, and a loyal receptionist called Martin Gay. And an alchemist’s mirror.

Gabbie: You’re a time traveller!

Laika: (voice-over) That’s Gabbie Hayes, a twenty year old charity mugger.

Martin: Yes. But I’m not weird.

Laika: (voice-over) And that’s Martin Gay, who might be weird. For example, he’s not wearing any shoes. Only this morning, on his fortieth birthday, his boss forced him at gunpoint to pass through an alchemist’s mirror to learn the secrets of the cosmos, so he had to take them off.

Martin: So, are we on? Gabbie?

Angel: This is a terrible idea.

Laika: (voice-over) That’s the fiery angel Martin met on the other side of the mirror, a voice in his head only he can now hear.

Gabbie: On for what?

Martin: Oh, you asked if I wanted a companion, to travel through time and space.

Gabbie: Yeah, as a joke.

Martin: Oh. Okay, I can’t tell when you’re joking.

Gabbie: And that does make you fun. But –

Laika: (voice-over) Martin only met Gabbie this morning, but he’s already decided she – is the light bulb in his lampshade, the food in his fridge.

Martin: But it was a joke.

Gabbie: Yeah, but I thought you were joking. So –

Martin: So...?

Laika: (voice-over) And the universe falls silent as it waits for an answer.

Gabbie: Let’s talk

Laika: (voice-over) Yay!

Martin: Yes!

Gabbie: Cool, but this isn’t a yes.

Martin: Oh, no.

Gabbie: Are you off work at six?

Martin: Ah, great. Do you know the Cat in the Bag?

Laika: (voice-over) Uh, cat!

Gabbie: Pub?

Martin: Yeah.

Gabbie: Cool. Get shoes though. I’m not meeting if you’re not wearing shoes.

Martin: Yes.

Gabbie: And not dinner lady ones you had on last time.

Martin: Yeah, no, brilliant. See you at six. (to himself) Oh, fab!

Angel: You fool!

Martin: What?

Angel: This is not why I gave you the Time Spanner.

Martin: You shoved it up my nose, you mean.

Angel: Which is how I’m now communicating to your brain from Heaven, yes? Which hole would you rather I’d use?

Martin: You said I could have a companion.

Angel: And I gave you a companion, remember? Mr Mergatroid?

Martin: I thought Gabbie would be better.

Angel: Better for your nerves than a devoted little flying robot who emits cake?

Martin: I’m not nervous. I’m just happy and excited, my body’s not used to it. Come on, Gabbie will be amazing, travelling together around the – the planet. Not the planet. The sun? Not the sun, too hot. But, uh, you know, other planets, if we can breathe. Can we breathe?

Angel: No.

Martin: Well, not them then. But, to the past, seeing the – I don’t know, the plague! Okay, not the plague. But Gabbie is good at ideas – come on, it’ll be an adventure.

Angel: Adventure is just bad planning. That spanner was very sensitively positioned to allow you to operate it with just a finger up the nose because you are on a mission. To travel to the future and return with technology that will save your world.

Martin: Okay, it will be a cool mission. Oh, what are we bringing back?

Angel: Hm?

Martin: This technology, is it something energy? To do with food?

Angel: Uh, it’s a bit of both.

Martin: Oh, cool.

Angel: It’s qualmian needle beam.

Martin: Qualmian needle beam?

Angel: It’s basically a flesh eating death laser.

Martin: What?

Angel: Which is to be used only for good.

Martin: It’s a weapon?

Angel: Don’t be nervous.

Martin: I am not nervous! I’m just not sure I want to be remembered as the inventor of the flesh eating death laser.

Angel: Well, perhaps I should have entrusted this mission then to your master, Daniel Kraken.

Martin: Uh, well, he does work in security.

Angel: Okay, so that’s supposed to be reverse psychology.

Martin: Oh, yeah. No, that doesn’t really work on me.

Angel: Fine! Fine! Let’s get that thing out of your nose, and you can go and tell Gabbie you –

Martin: Oh, no, yeah, that works. Gabbie. Yeah, okay, I’ll do the mission it if I can do it with Gabbie.

Angel: I still have significant concerns about her effect on your nerves.

Martin: I’m not nervous, Gabbie’s great for my nerves. Uh, right, I don’t really know what to do with myself until six. Although, actually – I am a time traveller, so I could just –

Angel: No, whatever it is –

Martin: Fast forward to six o’clock now!

Angel: Do not put your fingers up your nose. (SFX: gong sound as the Time Spanner is activated) Oh, you utter –

Martin: Oh, Cat in the Bag. Uh, it’s dark.

Angel: Of course. This is what I mean by bad planning.

Martin: What?

Angel: You’re running before you’ve learnt to walk.

Martin: That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I’ve never understood that. (SFX: phone pings) Uh.

Angel: Flip phone?

Martin: Yeah. It’s futuristic. Ah.

Angel: What?

Martin: A hundred and thirty-four missed calls.

Angel: Any messages?

Martin: Yeah. Don’t really want to with that now, though, so –

Angel: Listen to the messages.

Martin: No.

Angel: You have jumped eight hours of your life. You need to listen –

Martin: Just stop telling me what to do, please!

Angel: You are nervous.

Martin: I’m not – (SFX: sound of phone being smashed) Well, I’ve broken it now, anyway, so we can’t – You’re bad for my nerves, not Gab – I needed a new phone anyway. Let’s going.

Angel: Fine. If anyone notices a shoeless man muttering to himself and smashing a phone against a bin. Although, actually, so far –

Martin: Yeah, no, Brixton’s great.

(SFX: pub atmos)

Laika: (voice-over) 2016. The Cat in the Bag. Peeling leather seating banks, random tassels, you know, a bowl of markers in the toilet. Martin loved this pub, and had drunk here at least twice.

Gabbie: Martin Gay!

Martin: Gabbie, you’re – here.

Gabbie: Hello.

Martin: Hello, hello, pion and –

Angel: No.

Martin: – tube. Uh.

Angel: No.

Gabbie: Shake hands.

Martin: Shake hands.

Gabbie: Hello, sitting down. (SFX: sound of chairs scraping against the floor)

Martin: Sitting down. Hello.

Gabbie: So, you’re not dead then.

Martin: What?

Gabbie: Is this what I have to get used to? No offense, Martin Gay, but –

Angel: What is she talking about?

Gabbie: Did you blow it up?

Martin: What?

Gabbie: Where you work.

Martin: Kraken Self-Storage? Blew up?

Gabbie: Yeah.

Angel: Alright, stay calm.

Martin: Wait, who’s dying?

Gabbie: No one! Well, you, but turns out you’re fine. But answer your phone.

Angel: Okay. House meeting. Where can we talk?

Martin: What? Okay, sorry, Gabbie, I just need to – oh, sorry, I haven’t asked what you want to drink.

Gabbie: Just coke and ice.

Martin: Okay I’m going to the toilet for –

Gabbie: Okay. No stroll, though ‘cos they’ve got up turtles.

(SFX: sound of the toilet door opening/closing)

Martin: My workplace blew up.

Angel: Yes, right. So, I’m going to take a break from communicating to you from Heaven to make some enquires my end about the explosion. Do not use the spanner until you hear from me again.

Martin: Oh, you’re going? Okay, cool.

Angel: What?

Martin: No, you’re just doing what you think you should be doing, that’s cool.

Angel: No, Martin.

Martin: Having your voice in my head is not unweird.

Angel: I’m a guardian angel.

Martin: I’m an atheist.

Angel: Excuse me, you’re an atheist? You’ve been to Heaven.

Martin: It had robots.

Angel: Think of me then as your muse.

Martin: Okay.

Angel: Me, not Gabbie.

Martin: What?

Angel: She’s half your age, I mean, she’s twenty. Seriously, next to her, Martin, you look like a bald bear.

Martin: No, it’s not –

Angel: It’s not good. À bientôt. (SFX: sound of fire as the angel disappears)

Martin: Alright.

(SFX: pub music)

Martin: Oh, there we go. Sorry. Sorted everything out now.

Gabbie: Er, shoes?

Martin: Ah. Yeah, I didn’t get them. Sorry. Or your drink, actually. And I haven’t a wallet, it’s in the explosion. Sorry.

Gabbie: What are you doing Martin Gay?

Martin: Hm?

Gabbie: Is it all a bit moment to moment in your life right now?

Martin: Yeah.

Gabbie: Yeah, look. Before we go any further – bit embarrassing, but, um, can we just clarify something? You know, get out of the way?

Martin: Um, sure?

Gabbie: Pay.

Martin: Oh, yes.

Gabbie: Cos you said my job’s on pay, but does that mean you’re not getting paid because you have this ‘amazing’ power?

Martin: Yes, I know, I’m sorry.

Angel: We need to talk, now.

Martin: Oh, guys! Sorry.

Gabbie: It’s alright. I’m just saying, one of my jobs could be working out how we get paid. You know –

Angel: (talking over Gabbie) Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Stop talking to her!

Martin: Sure. Sorry, and I think that’s my phone.

Gabbie: What?

Angel: Thank you!

Martin: I just better take this, in the toilet. Um –

(SFX: sound of the toilet door opening/closing)

Martin: What?

Angel: The Metatron.

Martin: What?!

Angel: The giant robot we stole the spanner from? He blew up your boss’ magic mirror from the Heaven end.

Martin: That was the explosion? Yikes!

Angel: Yes, ‘yikes’. And there are now factions in Heaven veeery angry I gave you this mission.

Martin: To steal a flesh eating death laser.

Angel: Hm.

Martin: What factions?

Angel: The Usual.

Martin: The Usual?

Angel: That’s what they call themselves, yes, ‘The Usual’. Even now, they may be tracing my signal to the spanner in your head to locate you.

Martin: There’s people after me?

Angel: Not yet.

Martin: Okay.

Angel: And not people.

Martin: Hhhhh.

Angel: We need another means of communication between my plane and the physical, something they can’t trace. (pause) Do you have a mirror?

Martin: Uh, I mean, well, there’s –

Angel: Oh, is that a mirror? Over the sink?

Martin: What did you think it was?

Angel: I thought it was just some guy making fun of you.

Martin: Wh –

Angel: Reality is hard. Now, in addition to granting you the power to travel through all time and space – it is just time and space you have, isn’t it?

Martin: Uh, yeah.

Angel: The Time Spanner also lets us communicate through any mirror. But you need to make a sigil. So, do you have a pen?

Martin: Here.

Angel: There’s a bowl of pens in the toilet?

Martin: Uh, yeah.

Angel: Hmm. Okay, draw a line on the mirror, right to left.

Martin: Oh, you’re teaching me magic? Right.

Angel: Stop. Now, down. And left.

Martin: Right.

Angel: Okay, new line. Above where you just left off, draw down.

Martin: Wait, I–

Angel: Quickly!

Martin: Okay.

Angel: Now, left to right. Hurry!

Martin: Are you making me draw a swastika?

Angel: It’s a perfectly innocent symbol.

Martin: Oh my god, it is not!

Angel: You need to mark the mirror with a sigil.

Martin: Give me another.

Angel: (sighs) Well, there’s a circle, of course.

Martin: Great. Why did we start with –

Angel: Quickly. (SFX: sounds of Martin drawing on the mirror) What is that? A circle is one line, draw one line.

Martin: Okay, it’s just harder, standing up, you’re right. Okay. (SFX: sounds of Martin drawing on the mirror) Hang on. I mean, it should have met up by now, but you get the idea.

Angel: Draw a swastika.

Martin: No!

Angel: Hitler didn’t even get it the right way round.

Martin: What?!

Angel: Not that I gave the spanner to him.

Martin: Okay, I’m giving it to my boss.

Angel: The pen?

Martin: No, the Time Spanner. I’m sorry, but this is no fun, I don’t want it anymore. Mr Kraken actually knows about magic and weapons – (SFX: sound of fire)

Angel: Noooo!

Martin: So I quit. Hello? Oh. Have you gone? Well, okay. Over and out?

(SFX: pub atmos)

Martin: So that was – oh, boy. Anyway. Phew.

Gabbie: We don’t have to talk about pay, Martin Gay.

Martin: Sorry, yes, I’m hopeless.

Gabbie: Don’t be sorry. Everyone gets hopeless.

Martin: Not you.

Gabbie: Mate, this year?

Martin: Oh, 2016?

Gabbie: Can all the heroes stop dying, please? Can’t wait to see the back of it.

Martin: Yeah.

Gabbie: You don’t have to, though. You’re a time traveller. Let’s go to 2017 now, get you some future shoes.

Martin: Uh, ah, no. Actually –

Gabbie: Ah. Is it off?

Martin: How do you read people so well?

Gabbie: I thought we were going on an adventure, Martin Gay!

Martin: Adventure is just bad planning.

Gabbie: Oh, then we already have.

Martin: No, no, it’s just – that was my boss, then, on the phone.

Gabbie: Daniel Kraken?

Martin: Yeah. And he wants the time thing for himself now, so –

Gabbie: So?

Martin: What?

Gabbie: You don’t have to do what he says. You’re holding all the cards, Martin Gay.

Martin: Does that mean I’m winning? I’ve never understood that.

Gabbie: Yeah.

Martin: What card game are you winning if you’re holding all the cards?

Gabbie: Top Trumps!

Martin: It’s a Top Trumps reference?

Gabbie: Yeah. You’ve got the time thing, not Kraken. What do you want to do?

Martin: Oh, I’m terrible at this question. What do you want to do, Gabbie?

Gabbie: I want to see what you want to do.

Martin: I – I do want to want to do something. I mean, I have all this, and you, so I should be –

Gabbie: (interrupting) Taking care of yourself.

Martin: No.

Gabbie: No, you should be taking care of yourself.

Martin: But if it means giving this up, you’re right, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Won’t I?

Gabbie: Don’t know. If only there was some way to find out.

Martin: Yeah. What? (realising) Oh! I’m a time traveller! Gabbie, do you want to come to the future with me and see if I regret –

Gabbie: Yes, please!

Martin: Right. 2017.

Gabbie: Or further!

Martin: Twenty – eighteen? Okay, so, how it works is that anything I touch travels with me.

Gabbie: You want to touch me?

Martin: No!

Gabbie: Where do you want to touch me, Martin Gay? Joking. Take my hand.

Martin: Thanks. Okay. Now it’s gonna look like I’m picking my nose, but –

(SFX: gong sound as the Time Spanner is activated)

Martin: Oh, what is that in my face?

Laika: (voice-over) Here we are, in 2018.

Gabbie: Hail!

Martin: The Cat’s all boarded up.

Laika: (voice-over) And across the closed pub, a bill sticker reads –

Martin: Property of the Kraken Empire?

Man’s voice: Hey, you! Stop there. (SFX: gunshots being fired)

Martin: Oh, guys!

Laika: (voice-over) Armed and masked figures in high visibility tabards.

Man’s voice: Over it, now.

Martin: On whose authority? (SFX: sound of Martin being punched) Ouch – guys! Right on the nose.

Gabbie: Hey!

Man’s voice: We’ve located the target, Sir.

Lord Kraken: What’s he look like?

Man’s voice: He looks rubbish.

Lord Kraken: That’s him.

Man’s voice: And a girl.

Lord Kraken: Bring them both.

Man’s voice: Yes, Lord Kraken.

Martin: Daniel Kraken?

Gabbie: Seen enough.

Martin: Now what, Gabbie, can we –

Gabbie: Go meet your boss?

Man’s voice: Into the truck!

Martin: Yeah, I’m just –

Gabbie: Curious? Yeah, totally.

Martin: Coming.

Gabbie: So, we can just hold hands and escape whenever we want, right?

Martin: Yeah.

Gabbie: How’s your nose?

Martin: Yeah, beginning to hurt.

Man’s voice: Get in!

Laika: (voice-over) Hail pounded the truck carrying Martin and Gabbie as it ground north past pictureless hoardings, abandoned cranes, barbed wire and wet grit, until finally, in the highest room of a mistopped chrome cylinder, on the brown banks of a froffing river –

Man’s voice: Kneel before Lord Kraken.

Martin: Ouch.

Lord Kraken: Forgive my Yellowcoats, they can be a little – overzealous. Leave us.

Yellowcoat: Yes, Lord Kraken.

Lord Kraken: Two long years I’ve waited for this. Marty – Marty, Marty, Marty, Marty, Marty.

Gabbie: Mar-tin.

Lord Kraken: And the friend who finally led us to you, Miss –

Gabbie: Hayes, thank you.

Lord Kraken: Allow me to introduce myself.

Gabbie: You’re Dan! Now, escape.

Martin: ‘Led us to you’?

Lord Kraken: Tried tracking your phone, Marty, no luck. Pulled the last number you called, tracked that instead.

Gabbie: What do you want with us, Dan? You’ve got the cold dead eyes of a cold dead guy.

Lord Kraken: Oh, there is a fire here, Miss Hayes.

Gabbie: In the flat?

Lord Kraken: You misunderstand me.

Gabbie: Yet I don’t understand what you’re saying.

Lord Kraken: I mean I have a drive. (pause) No.

Gabbie: You’ve got a drive? You live in a flat.

Lord Kraken: Okay. Okay, firstly, this is not a flat.

Gabbie: It’s not a house.

Martin: I live in a house, well, house share.

Gabbie: See, Dan, he lives in a house.

Lord Kraken: Enough!

Gabbie: Issues.

Martin: You’re right. Come on Gabbie, I’ve had enough.

Gabbie: Sure.

Lord Kraken: Holding hands, how touching.

Gabbie: Bye, Dan.

Martin: Bye.

Lord Kraken: And now picking your nose. Less touching.

Gabbie: Bye.

Martin: Ouch. Bye. Ouch.

Gabbie: Bye. (pause) Nothing’s happening!

Martin: Ouch. Oh, god!

Lord Kraken: What are you doing?

Martin: Gabbie, I can’t reach it.

Gabbie: What?

Lord Kraken: Reach what?

Martin: When that guard hit me in the face, I think it must have driven it too far into my – ouch.

Gabbie: You must be able to reach it! Otherwise, how do you go back and give it to Dan?

Martin: Well, I’m hardly going to now.

Lord Kraken: Give what?

Gabbie: Wait, wait, wait. If you don’t give it to him –

Martin: Then how –

Lord Kraken: How what?

Martin: How have you done all this?

Gabbie: Yeah!

Lord Kraken: All what?

Gabbie: Taken over the world?

Lord Kraken: What are you talking about?

Martin: You’ve got an army!

Lord Kraken: Oh, the Yellowcoats! Not strictly speaking mine. Private security force, subcontracted to the Home Office.

Martin: But, ‘kneel before Lord Kraken’?

Lord Kraken: Yeah, a bit overzealous, I said that. But good lads.

Gabbie: Lord Kraken?

Lord Kraken: I was made a Lord, yes. About bloody time. I don’t know where you’ve been, Marty, but I’ve had a good couple of years. Property portfolio’s booming, won that security contract, Cash of the Titans got syndicated to Russia – they love me there. I’ve hardly taken over the world though, I’m in a flat in Vauxhall.

Martin: You’re wearing a cape!

Lord Kraken: It’s a free country.

Mr Mergatroid: Suits you, Master.

Martin: Mr Mergatroid!

Mr Mergatroid: It's the man!

Lord Kraken: Ah, yes, the robot you abandoned.

Gabbie: Wait, what?

Lord Kraken: I did hope he might help the business, actually. I mean, artificial intelligence, anti gravity – but nope, useless.

Mr Mergatroid: Boody cake, Master? Fresh from m’boody.

Lord Kraken: Apart from the cake.

Martin: So, magic had nothing to do with it.

Gabbie: I’ve got questions.

Martin: Yeah, me too. If you didn’t take over the world, then why is everything now so rubbish?

Lord Kraken: What? Oh, thanks a bunch.

Martin: The Cat in the Bag all boarded up.

Lord Kraken: The new Kraken site, yeah. Pubs close down, Marty.

Martin: The deserted streets?

Lord Kraken: It’s hailing.

Martin: But – the drive here, the rubble, the barbed wire, the terrifying giant building works. Okay, that – okay that’s just –

Lord Kraken: That’s Vauxhall.

Martin: Yeah.

Gabbie: Yeah, yeah.

Lord Kraken: Look, Marty, spare me your midlife wobble. 2018 is not rubbish, it’s brilliant! I’ve got a robot, and a cape.

Martin: ‘Midlife wobble’?

Lord Kraken: Your pub closed down, so you think the Nazis took over. You couldn’t be more middle-aged.

Martin: You led us here at gunpoint!

Lord Kraken: Because that’s the only way to get you to do anything. Marty, you had to be forced at gunpoint into Heaven.

Gabbie: Heaven?

Lord Kraken: What did you find on the other side of that scrying glass? Tell me, and I’ll make you a partner in everything we build.

Martin: I don’t want any part of any of this.

Lord Kraken: Of what?

Martin: Of – (mumbles)

Lord Kraken: You’re indicating with your arms literally your entire surroundings.

Martin: Yes!

Lord Kraken: Fine. I’ll use force. Everyone thinks you’re dead already, Marty, and I’m fine with force. Robot!

Mr Mergatroid: Yeah?

Lord Kraken: Take these two down to the interrogation unit.

Mr Mergatroid: The – hospitality popup?

Lord Kraken: The – where we do the focus group.

Mr Mergatroid: Into the lift please. Nyam.

(SFX: ping of the lift)

Martin: Gabbie, I’m sorry.

Mr Mergatroid: I’m sorry too, Marty.

Martin: What?

Mr Mergatroid: What are we sorry about?

Martin: Sorry, can Gabbie and I just –

Mr Mergatroid: Who’s Gabbie?

Martin: Oh, sorry. Gabbie, this is Mr Mergatroid.

Gabbie: Hi.

Mr Mergatroid: Not interested.

Gabbie: Cool. How’s Kraken got a robot?

Mr Mergatroid: Oh. I’m on your side, really.

Martin: Hm? Oh, yes – thanks for not telling him about the Time Spanner.

Mr Mergatroid: I’ve – missed you, buddy.

Martin: Oh, right, I mean – we didn’t really know each other.

Mr Mergatroid: No, but the moment I was made your companion I recalibrated my emotions.

Gabbie: Companion?

Mr Mergatroid: And now, I love you.

Martin: Oh.

Gabbie: Can you let us go, then, please, Mr – Mergatroid?

Mr Mergatroid: No. But I do have something that may help. (SFX: sound of something being taken out) Found them in the explosion.

Martin: You’ve had my shoes inside you for two years?

Mr Mergatroid: I missed you!

Martin: Okay. Maybe, recalibrate your emotions back again – just, you know, just for your own sake.

Mr Mergatroid: But I don’t want to, Marty!

Gabbie: I’m replacing a robot?

Martin: Right, is this the –

Mr Mergatroid: I don’t want to. (pause) Bye!

Laika: (voice-over) Where they do the focus groups.

Gabbie: Right, I spent the last five minutes in my head trying mainly to invent time travel from scratch, and it’s not going great. How are you getting on?

Martin: Well, I got my shoes back. Wait. That massive two-way mirror on the wall behind you. Gabbie, do you have something to write with?

Gabbie: Lipstick?

Martin: Oh, thank you! Now, um – (SFX: sound of drawing on the mirror) There.

Gabbie: You’ve drawn a swastika?! (SFX: sound of Martin being punched)

Martin: Ouch! My nose!

Gabbie: I’m sorry, Martin, but what the hell?

(SFX: sound of fire)

Angel: I attend.

Martin: It worked!

Laika: (voice-over) There in the mirror, and only in the mirror, the blazing angel –

Angel: What happened to you?

Laika: (voice-over) – wreathed in fire.

Martin: You’re the one who left, what happened to you?

Angel: The Usual – I don’t want to talk about it.

Laika: (voice-over) Visible to all.

Gabbie: Hello!

Angel: Hello.

Martin: Oh, Gabbie, sorry, this in the mirror is – I don’t know what to call you.

Angel: I have been called many names.

Gabbie: You look like a Bridget.

Angel: Thank you.

Martin: Bridget? Nah.

Gabbie: Bridget’s a hot name, Martin.

Lord Kraken: (over the intercom) What are you doing? There are cameras.

Gabbie: Nothing, Dan.

Martin: Oh, sorry, yes, Gabbie, this is –

Lord Kraken: (over the intercom) Are you scrying?

Gabbie: Scrying?

Martin: Oh, it means to communicate with angels through a reflective surface.

Gabbie: This is an angel?

Martin: Well, more –

Angel: His genie.

Martin: Yes!

Angel: He keeps me as a slave.

Martin: No!

Angel: Forgive me, Master!

Gabbie: Martin Gay!

Angel: Yes, he is horrible, you don’t want to work with him.

Martin: Stop that!

Gabbie: We need to talk about that, actually, Martin – you know, the whole ‘job’ thing.

Laika: (voice-over) Uh-oh. (whines) This doesn’t sound good.

Lord Kraken: (over the intercom) Right. You are definitely doing magic. Yellowcoats, get down there!

Martin: Okay, quickly.

Gabbie: Hey, be nice to Bridget! Can you get us back to 2016, please?

Angel: Ah, date?

Gabbie: Uh, November the third.

Angel: 6.30 pm?

Martin: Oh, sure.

Angel: Location?

Gabbie: Cat in the Bag?

Angel: Voilà!

(SFX: sound of portal being opened)

Laika: (voice-over) And there, in the mirror, a shortcut through Heaven back to 2016, looking more inviting than it ever had before.

Martin: I didn’t know you could do that.

Angel: I know.

Gabbie: So we just step through the mirror?

Angel: Correct.

Martin: And then, once we’re through, you disappear?

Angel: No.

Martin: What?

Angel: Once summoned, I remain in the mirror until the sigil is erased. So just wipe it off once you’re through – Master.

Martin: Through what?

Gabbie: How?

Angel: Oh.

Martin: Wipe it off, so one of us –

Gabbie: – has to stay behind.

Angel: Ah.

Martin: That’s fine. Gabbie, you go.

Gabbie: Really?

Martin: I’ve got loads of pass, I’ll get back somehow.

Gabbie: Sure?

Martin: Yeah, sure.

Gabbie: Okay, before I do – (sighs) this whole companion thing, Martin Gay...

Martin: Oh. Yeah?

Gabbie: Sorry.

Laika: (voice-over) (whines) No!

Martin: Ah. Right.

Gabbie: Don’t look hopeless. You’ll get a robot companion, they’re the best. And, you’ve got my number in your phone, yeah?

Martin: Er, yeah.

Gabbie: Stay in touch, yeah?

Martin: Actually, no. Haven’t got a phone.

Gabbie: Oh, have mine.

Martin: Oh, really?

Gabbie: Yeah. Catch!

Martin: Cheers.

Gabbie: Okay. Be well, yeah. Thank you for having meeeee.

Laika: (voice-over) And Gabbie Hayes was gone.

Angel: Oh, she was very sweet.

Martin: You’re happy she’s gone.

Angel: Maybe.

Martin: What did you have against her?

Angel: Her? Nothing, Martin. She quit. Take a hint. Now, shall we get on with saving the world?

Martin: Ouch.

Angel: What?

Martin: I’m – I’m trying to reach the – ouch. I can’t – so, a guard hit me in the face, and it’s driven the thing too far into my brain.

Lord Kraken: (over the intercom) There’s something in your brain?

Angel: Oh, not again.

(SFX: banging at the door)

Yellowcoat: How’re we getting in?

Lord Kraken: (over the intercom) It’s a shutter, you lift it.

Angel: I have bad news.

Martin: What?

Angel: It might be broken.

Martin: The spanner?

Angel: I’m sorry, I keep forgetting to factor into my choice of saviour how often they might get punched in the face.

Martin: But – it summoned you.

Angel: Yes, and then, Gabbie punched you in the face. You’d better just follow her through.

Martin: But, no – then you’ll be stuck here, and Kraken will have another magic mirror.

Angel: Well, better he gets his hands on me than on what’s in your head.

Lord Kraken: (over the intercom) Yellowcoats, get in there. (SFX: banging at the door) No, you lift it. There, good lads.

Martin: He’s not getting another magic mirror. Goodbye.

Angel: No! Really?

Martin: I’m wiping it out.

Angel: Well, goodbye. (SFX: sound of fire as the angel disappears)

Laika: (voice-over) And Martin Gay was alone. (SFX: sound of the shutter being lifted, guards rushing in) And then, he wasn’t.

Martin: Hi.

Woman’s voice: Ah, got here in time. Prisoner with me. Holly, secure the unit, make sure he can’t get back in.

Martin: What?

Woman’s voice: I don’t make the rules. This way, you big – nonsense.

Martin: Gabbie?

Gabbie: Shh. Yeah! Joined the Yellowcoats three months ago.

Martin: Joined them? Why?

Gabbie: To rescue you.

Yellowcoat: Oi, go away.

Gabbie: Into the car park. Run!

(SFX: sirens getting closer)

Martin: Three months ago?!

Gabbie: This way!

(SFX: gunshots being fired)

Martin: Ah! Guys! More of them!

Voice over a megaphone: Drop your weapons.

Gabbie: Nah. Police. They’re not here for you, they’re here for Dan.

Martin: What?

Police officer: Mr Gay?

Gabbie: Here he is.

Police officer: You’re safe now.

Gabbie: Yeah. I made some calls. Turns out, you didn’t die in the explosion two years ago, you were kidnapped.

Police officer: Right, I’m going in. Let’s find Kraken.

(SFX: gunshots being fired)

Martin: Wait, you know that’s not what actually happened.

Gabbie: Oh, yeah, I’m following this. Why didn’t you come back though?

Martin: It – broke.

Gabbie: You missed nothing. I’m not joking, Martin Gay – the last two years have been crazy. I mean, not interesting crazy, crazy like a crazy person. Which I can say, because I worked in mental health for a year, and can I just say, I had to reapply for my own job four times. My own job! Then the place closes down, and it isn’t even what I want to be doing, though I’m twenty-two, I mean, what can I do with my life – sorry, how are you?

Martin: I’m –

Mr Kraken: Hold your fire, lads. Marty, I’m innocent! Tell them!

Police officer: Mr Kraken, I’m arresting you for the illegal detainment of a Mr Martin Gay –

Gabbie: So, that’s me out of a job again.

Laika: (voice-over) Hurray!

Gabbie: You still need someone to help you save the world? There’s bugger a lot to do.

Martin: But Gabbie, the Time Spanner’s broken.

Gabbie: Everything’s broken. Fix it! Oh, sorry, am I sounding old and grumpy?

Martin: Everyone gets hopeless.

Gabbie: Ha! Who said that? Was it someone amazing?

Laika: (voice-over) Imagine having the power of a god. Imagine being able to let the universe go on exactly as it would have done if you’d never existed. Human beings, alas, do not have such a power. Their actions have consequences. Which is why, now and then, one may be entrusted to bear – the Time Spanner.

Martin: Actually, Gabbie – do you want it?

Time Spanner was written by Simon Kane, and starred Simon Kane, John Finnemore, London Hughes, Jeremy Limb, David Mitchell, and Sally Phillips. The producer was Gareth Edwards, and it was a BBC Studios production.

#Time Spanner #Time Spanner 2 #The Dan in the High Castle #Simon Kane #transcript #lothiriel84 #my-sun-my-baelish #BBC Radio 4

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lothiriel84 · 5 years

Text

That’s just Vauxhall

Here I am, attempting a non-spoilery review of The Dan in the High Castle.

(You’ve got nine days left to listen to the episode on BBC iPlayer.)

Yes, I am aware of the existence of a novel titled The Man in the High Castle, and the TV series based on it. The only thing I know about it is that’s it’s some sort of dystopian AU where the Nazis took over, and that the title of the new Time Spanner is probably a wordplay on that one. (It still took me an embarassing long time to figure out what the ‘Dan’ clearly refers to, but hey, at least I did work it out - eventually.)

That being said, I still vaguely imagined the titular castle as some sort of heavenly architecture - and while we’re talking about castles, please do check out this dainty doodle John Finnemore put at the bottom of one of his blog entries (which’s got absolutely nothing to do with Time Spanner, but hey, it’s pretty). But let’s go back to the episode itself, shall we?

Time Spanner 2 is nothing like I expected, and all the more exciting because of that. Initially, I didn’t want to spoil the new episode by listening to it just outside work, but then I figured out that if I ended up in a car crash or something, I’d rather have listened to it first. (Shh, I know, my brain’s just weird like that.) And so I did, tucked in the backseat of my car with a rather unglamorous view of ugly warehouses that I’m rather hoping will stop coming back to me every time I have another relisten.

There’s still angels and robots, time travel and magic. And Martin Gay, in all his - Martin-ness. (Hello the BBC, could you please stop misspelling the protagonist’s name on your website? Ta.) And may I just say, Laika’s intro at the beginning feels very much like meeting up again with an old friend after a very long time.

Still, the story takes a completely different turn than I was expecting, and that’s precisely the beauty of it. I know I promised no spoilers at the beginning, but at least the two-year wait between the episodes has not been in vain, plot-wise. I’ll just stop now. (I do hope that wasn’t too much of a spoiler anyway.)

And, well, I’m afraid there’s little more I can say without spoiling the episode for those who haven’t listened yet. It’s funny, it’s brilliant, and increasingly gripping as it nears the end. Gabbie Hayes and Daniel Kraken are on fire in this one - you’ll see what I mean when you listen for yourself. All I’m going to say is that my first reaction when I got to the final credits was, ‘oh my god’, and then, ‘well, I need to listen to this again as soon as I can’.

(Which I have now, several times in point of fact, and it’s just as good as the first time around.)

If you haven’t listened to the pilot episode, or need a relisten before getting on with the new one, you might want to check out this post. And if you happen to stumble upon this not particularly well thought-out attempt at a review when the new episode’s already dropped off the iPlayer, then this is the post for you.

Paws crossed that we won’t have to wait for another two years to know what happens next.

#Time Spanner #Time Spanner 2 #The Dan in the High Castle #Simon Kane #BBC Radio 4 #sitcom #review #I tried to keep this as spoiler-free as I could manage #with mixed results review-wise #but hey - everyone gets hopeless

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rattlung · 6 years

Text

rivers and roads pt 3

whats up it’s ur boy skinny penis back on his bullshit with another chapter of that fnv mcgenji fic no one but me asked for.

I wrote this in like two days and hardly edited, but yknow, fuck it. if your preferred jam is ao3 you can read it there too. if smth isn’t tagged that you’d like to see tagged let me know

“From where you’re kneeling, this must look like an eighteen karat run of bad luck.” She said this while gesturing with her gun, the metal of it shining against the lanterns. It wasn’t too bright, but his head throbbed and the shine squeezed at his brain. When he didn’t make a move or try to say anything, just squinted up at the woman, she crouched down and patted his face twice, like a mother with a petulant child. “Ay, pobrecito…”

The smirk could be heard in her voice, he didn’t have to stare to see it. He couldn’t look away.

She gave a theatrical sigh and a played-up shrug when she stood again. “Truth is… the game was rigged from the start.” The woman pointed the gun, and he stared down the barrel. She didn’t stop smiling, he didn’t look away.

She fired.

=+=

The walk to Primm was not a long one. Before the sun rose over the hills, McCree could make out the few buildings and the winding track of a wooden roller coaster behind them. It was a pleasant surprise, as he thought he’d be going further than that before he reached another settlement. He made a mental note to study the Pip-Boy’s mapping system thoroughly to learn the roads better. Unreliable distances meant unreliable food and water rations, a dangerous mistake.

Mr. New Vegas’s voice carried him over the final hill, dipping straight into an overpass, the bridge leading to the entrance of the town on the left. McCree stayed right so he could cross once he reached it and kept his eyes on the cityline. There were no lights on, which he guessed wasn’t very odd, seeing as it was hardly five in the morning. It was doubtful a lot of people would be awake.

“Hey!”

McCree jolted and reached for the pistol at his hip. The shout had come from in front of him and was followed by a man hurrying toward his direction, dressed in a military esque uniform the same color as the dirt that dusted his boots.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The soldier demanded, stopping a good distance away from McCree. “Primm is off limits to civilians. Head back to Goodsprings or wherever you came from - before you get shot.”

McCree regarded him with an unimpressed look. “‘Preciate the concern, sir, but I can take care of myself.”

It was the trooper’s turn to raise a brow, giving McCree a once over. “I have my orders.”

“What’s goin’ on in Primm that needs stayin’ away from?” He asked instead of rolling his eyes.

The man appeared to age several years at just hearing the question, obviously troubled and doing a poor job of hiding it. “Convicts broke out of the prison up the road, took over the town. Anyone there is either dead or boarding up their windows. That, and the tribes of raiders causing trouble in the nearby areas.” He lifted up the goggles attached to his helmet to rub at his eyes and sighed deeply, exhausted. McCree would have felt bad for him if he’d liked him. “You really would be better off heading back.”

McCree looked back to the military camp he had not noticed during his approach. In the rising sunlight, the tents appeared to be more stones and collapsed homes against the horizon, but now that he was made aware it was hard to ignore. A few other men and women strolled around tiredly in matching gear as the man before him. His eyes were drawn toward the flag hanging limp above it all, and then the wind blew and he saw it: a two headed bear. NCR, the New California Republic. A democracy, expanding its uninvited reach from what was left of California. McCree thought he must’ve worked for them a few times, because he only knew them for their money.

“Shouldn’t you be helping?”

“We’d love to,” the soldier stated, sounding unenthused, “but they don’t fall under NCR jurisdiction. Even if they did, we’re in no shape to provide any support.”

McCree gave the collection of people behind him a pointed look. “You’re not?”

“No equipment, not enough hands to provide backup if need be. The convicts are armed with explosives, they’d slaughter us.” He crossed his arms, seemingly finished with McCree. “If you’ve got any more pressing questions, talk to Lieutenant Hayes. He’s in a tent down the road.” He turned away from McCree and started marching back to his post. “Stay on the west side of the road if you don’t want to get shot,” he called.

=+=

Lieutenant Hayes wasn’t in better spirits than his trooper that sent McCree his way, but he was polite. He greeted McCree with all of his titles that he only half-listened to and told him the same thing the other soldier did but in more detail. Not enough supplies, not enough men, convicts holding the town hostage, nothing they could do.

“They’re taken to calling themselves Powder Gangers,” he had said. “We think it’s because of the explosives meant to clear boulders they had stolen. They organized faster than anyone had thought - well, most of them, at least. This group split off from the main force, so they seem to be on their own.”

“What about the prison?”

“Most people just call it N.C.R.C.F., that’s NCR Correctional Facility. Convicts staged a coup; killed the guards and took over the prison.”

McCree left the tent unsurprised. The wasteland had never been a safe place. Thugs and raiders torturing innocents wasn’t a new development. The idea of basing the group off of an obsession with explosives, though, that was different, McCree had to give them that. He’d seen enough “cannibal” raider groups to last a lifetime.

Still, he thought back to Goodsprings, the man that had intercepted him and Hana at the Prospector Saloon, and the N.C.R.C.F. printed across his back. He hadn’t been dumb enough to think him a real security guard, but his presence in town was more troubling now knowing his origins. McCree retreated back to the overpass, keeping the idea of returning to Goodsprings in mind. But, firstly, he has to make sure there isn’t any trace of the woman in the lilac suit in Primm. If there wasn’t anything he’d be back at square one anyway.

There was a makeshift blockade on the west side of the bridge made mostly of wood planks and old rubber tires, a woman standing behind it at the post with a rifle in hand. “You’re going in there?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She scoffed, like she was surprised someone could be so stupid, and said, “Careful of the mines. Laid ‘em out in case they tried to initiate an attack.”

Most of the buildings he passed were either boarded up or hollowed out, crumbling toward the street. Among the trash and rubble were small pools of dried blood and bullet casings; the NCR hadn’t been overstating the situation in the slightest. The layout of the town - from what he could see as he approached off the bridge - was simple, unlike the winding road and similar buildings of Goodsprings. What was left of the main road was shaped in a ‘T’, headed by a large hotel with the roller coaster he had seen from down the way looming over it. An appropriately shaped sign titled the hotel “The Bison Steve”.

The front of the building to his left face the heading street, but McCree’s attention was drawn to the square office stood on the opposite side of it. Its roof was outlined by neon-light lettering reading “Mojave Express”. He recognized the company’s name, the very same company that issued the delivery order that had been left on him when he’d been attacked.

A gunshot rang out over his head. He heard the yelling from further in the town when his hearing cleared after the deafening pop. Two men, both dressed in armor that resembled the man’s from Goodsprings, rounded the corner.

“Get the fuck outta here,” one hissed, raising his pistol with a wild look in his eyes.

McCree didn’t say anything in return, only retrieved his own weapon in kind. He shot down the second man who had advanced even further than the first with a deadly looking blade. It clattered to the pavement, along with the man’s body, and the other yelled wordlessly. He fired at McCree, but the closest he came was a few bullets whizzing over his head. McCree put him down quick, once in the shoulder, second clean in the head.

They didn’t have much on them in way of supplies besides a few extra caps and ammo. The knife the thug had was deadly, but not in the sense that the cut would kill you. Rather, the rust and old blood it left behind would cause some sort of infection that’d finish you off. That, and the fact that the blade wobbled in its hilt, was reason enough to leave it behind. The gun the other had McCree unloaded and dropped in his bag.

When he’s sure no one else was on the streets looking to shoot him in the back, he makes his way to the Mojave Express.

There was a body propped against the side next to the door, a courier, by the looks of the messenger bag strapped around his shoulder, contracted with the NCR. The bag was covered in the same symbol printed on the flag the troopers had stood under. McCree opens the flap, finding a few bottles of clean looking water and flat bread wrapped in an extra t-shirt. McCree transferred the contents into his own bag before coming across a crumpled piece of paper underneath it all.

The ink was smudged in places, but there was no mistaking the contents of the letter. It was nearly an exact match to McCree’s own delivery order; the only difference being the manifest and the delivery order number. This man, Courier Four, was meant to deliver a pair of furry dice. He had no such thing on him, so McCree could only assume he had been stopping in to finish the contract and had been killed for his pay.

McCree folded the paper neatly and set it with his own, and left the man on the street.

=+=

Inside the Mojave Express, there was only an empty space behind the counter to greet him. Everything was silent except for his footsteps on the wooden floors, so he didn’t call out, not expecting anyone to be out back. It was a normal express office as far as he could tell; cleaner than most but McCree had a sneaking suspicion that was due to the raiders picking houses apart for supplies.

Besides crates of papers and bottles, the only thing interesting on the counter was a rather large piece of metal. It must have been some type of robot, he decided upon closer inspection, round and a little bigger than a dodgeball. He’d never seen anything like it before, had no idea what sort of function the little bot was supposed to be capable of - or how it would even function in the first place. Was it made to roll around? He doubted that, the several antennae melded in its base would make that difficult. He rolled it over to its side, revealing a miniature ventilation system on what he supposed was the bot’s underside. For cooling - or maybe a propulsion system so the bot hovered a few feet off the ground, maneuvering that way. A flying robot. Yes, McCree definitely wanted to see that bot working.

He ran his fingers over the metal casing, over a bullet hole, and against the plastic of a bumper sticker plastered on its side. It was bright red, even with a layer of dirt, and the lettering was blocky, reading “Roosevelt Academy; A Proud Bastion of American Ideals!", all white besides the large, bolded word “Bastion” in a gaudy yellow. There was a license plate on the other side of the bot, number itself unintelligible. The only thing that was left untarnished was the Great Midwest, Illinois, 2062.

As far as he could tell, there was no serious damage to the bot. There was no doubt it had seen some action, though, if the bullet holes were anything to go by. Whoever worked in this building had apparently tried their own repairs; piles of screws and scrap metal were strewn about the countertop, along with a few tools. McCree retrieved a screwdriver from the pile and opened the outer casing of the bot and peered inside. He grunted to himself. There were servos and gyroscopes that looked twisted and out of place, probably in need of recalibrating, something he’d be able to do himself if he had the know-how. He didn’t. What he could do, however, was replace the parts that needed fixing. What was laying around would be useful, but he needed more if he wanted to see this bot - hopefully - in the air.

Across the street from the Mojave Express building was something called the Vikki and Vance Casino. All of the windows were boarded up, and the only accessible entrance to the building was through the double doors from the heading street. McCree walked close to the walls and with his eyes on the road rather than in front of him.

Inside was a drastic difference to the exterior and last building he had been in. Countless people were milling about, everyone in the town who survived must have holed up in the casino once the convicts hit. The very entrance served as a barricade to the rest of the casino floor, all the lanterns lent to it to keep it nice and lit. It made the rest of the space difficult to see, as his eyes were still adjusted to the bright sun, which is probably what the folks had been hoping for.

An old man stood from the slot stool where he’d been sitting, not raising the pistol he had in his hand but not loosening his grip on it, either. McCree didn’t go for his own weapon, wanting to convey he meant no threat in the easiest way possible.

“I don’t know what it was that brought you to Primm, youngster,” the man started, voice smoother than what McCree would have expected, looking as worn as the man did, “but you might be wantin’ to rethink your plans. Town’s gone to hell.”

“Didn’t notice,” McCree said quietly, mostly to himself, but the man heard him and seemed to get some type of amusement out of it. “Who are you, if you don’t mind me askin’.”

“Johnson Nash, husband to Ruby Nash. Livin’ in Primm going on eight years now, thick ‘n thin.” He told McCree this all proudly, another smile crossing his features when he mentioned his wife. McCree decided he liked this man, and was glad he didn’t walk in the casino with his gun pulled. “I’m mostly a trader,” Nash continued, “not that that’s worth much with things the way they are. ‘M also in charge of the local Mojave Express Outpost.”

McCree tore his eyes away from where they had wandered as he listened - an old, shot up car on display with a protectron in a tiny cowboy hat patrolling in front of it - and stared back at the man. “I’m a courier with the Mojave Express.”

Nash gave him a strange look. “Well, I don’t have any work right now, sorry to say.”

“No, it ain’t - I lost a package I was supposed to deliver.”

“Oh, well alright. I can tell you everything I can. You got a delivery order you can show me?” McCree shouldered his bag over to rifle through it, retrieving the slip of paper and handing it over. Nash read it over and his brow raised, but he didn’t exactly look surprised. “You’re talkin’ about one of them packages. That job had strange written all over it, I tell ya, but it wasn’t like we were gonna turn down the caps.”

He handed the paper back to McCree, who returned it back to his bag. “What was strange about it?”

Nash settled back onto his stool, setting his pistol back on his lap and wiping his hands on his dusty overalls with a sigh. “That cowboy robot had us higher six couriers, each one carrying somethin’ a little different. One had a pair o’ dice, another a chess piece - that kind of stuff. Last I heard from the office, payment was received for the other five jobs.” He raised his brow again, nodding at McCree. “Guess it was just you and your chip that didn’t make it.”

“When you say cowboy robot, do y’mean that one?” McCree pointed to the back of the casino and Nash’s eyes followed his to the Protectron shuffling around.

Nash laughed once with a shake of his head, “Nah, that’s Primm Slim. He’s been here longer than me, I’d recognize him. Naw, this feller was much bigger, with a screen showin’ a smilin’ cowboy’s face.”

Victor. So there was no coincidence in the robot’s unlikely presence when he had been attacked, Victor was supposed to be there. But why? And no robot would do something on its own prerogative, so who programmed it? Who was watching for McCree?

“The first deadbeat we hired for your job cancelled,” Nash went on when McCree didn’t say anything. “Hope a storm from the Divide skins him alive,” he cursed, and even though McCree had only known him for about five minutes, he was sure this display of anger was uncharacteristic for the man. He seemed to think so, too, because he sighed again and shook his head. “Well, anyway. That’s where you came in.”

“They cancelled?” That was suspicious, like everything else about the whole ordeal. Had they known what would happen if they were to carry the chip?

“Yeah, he got this look on his face when he saw your name down on the courier list, expression got turned right around. Asked me if your name was real, and I said sure as the lack o’ rain, you was still kickin’. Then he turned down the job, just like that. I asked if he was sure - it was good money.” Nash shrugged. “‘Nope, let courier six carry the package,’ that’s what he said.” He gave McCree a long look, and then, grimly, said, “Like the Mojave’d sort you out or something. Then he just up and walked out. Never saw ‘im again.”

The idea of the courier stumped McCree. He knew plenty of people from his line of work, but none that would turn down money for him. At least he didn’t think he did. He accepted that, because of his most recent gunshot wound, he wasn’t as read up on his own history as anyone would like to be with themselves. Some things were fuzzy, others were gone completely. He could know this man, but there was also the possibility that he didn’t know him at all. Just another mystery to solve.

“Y’know who he was?” McCree asked Nash, already knowing the answer. “Where he went?”

“No idea,” Nash answered, just like McCree thought he would, but he still managed to feel a little disappointed. “Sounded like you two had some history for him to act like that - and turn down the money, too. Hope he didn’t see any trouble in that package of yours. Maybe he thought your name was bad luck.” Ain’t that the fucking truth. “Not for me to say,” the man finished with a shrug.

McCree couldn’t help but heave out a frustrated sigh. He scrubbed at his face, pinched at the bridge of his nose, then sighed again. Nash at least looked a little sorry for him. McCree would take what he could get.

“My package - it was stolen from me,” he informed. “Couple of guys with skulls painted on their faces, a woman in a purple checkered suit. They wouldn’t’ve passed through here, would they?”

Nash looked up, rubbing his chin in thought. “Well, now that ya mention it, a few nights back a townie was out at night scavenging for some supplies. He said he saw a lady in a daisy suit comin’ through with a couple of Los Muertos thugs, talking ‘bout a chip.”

It was something, a big something. It was evidence that he was on the right path, that the people who attacked him were here before and that they were leaving a trail. It should’ve made him happy, but it just made his chest tighten; didn’t ease anything, only filled him with more anticipation.

“That woman, she shot me. I need to know the best way to get to them.”

Nash didn’t seem too hung up on the prospect of McCree getting attacked, just continued to rub at his chin and think for another moment. “Well, the best way to do that would be to talk to Deputy Beagle. He was keepin’ some tabs on ‘em, slinkin’ around Bison Steve when your pretty lady and her thugs rolled through. He may’ve heard where they were goin’.”

McCree nodded, remembering the hotel on the heading street. “Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Don’t mention it. Before you go, lemme warn ya about somethin’,” Nash called as McCree turned for the door. “The Bison Steve, it’s where all the gangsters are holed up. They took Beagle hostage after they killed the sheriff. Guess it took ‘em a go of it to get ransomin’ right.”

“Good to know.”

“Just be careful out there, son.”

McCree smiled. “I can take care of myself just fine,” he assured for the second time that day.

=+=

The interior of Bison Steve was about as one would expect it to be after being overrun by criminals. Garbage cans were knocked over, the floors were covered with the trash from said cans, along with rubble from failing walls. Only a select few lights overhead still worked and even those flickered. There were vending machines that still hummed, though, with a few bottles of cola left.

McCree navigated the halls of the hotel quietly, picking up those bottles and anything he saw that seemed to work - or had once worked - by using a battery or similarly electronic. The footsteps he heard around him didn’t make him uneasy, but he still waited until he caught each man off guard and alone before he confronted them. The halls were long enough, the were walls thick enough, and was McCree fast enough to handle every convict quietly without causing too much of a commotion.

They hardly carried anything interesting, maybe a few sticks of dynamite and a pocket full of ammo, or a chem or two. Sometimes they had caps, other times they had bills that reminded him of old world cash, but those were printed with newer faces and other symbols. NCR cash. Made sense, them coming from one of the NCR facilities; was probably the only thing the guards had on them in the way of money when the convicts killed them.

From one convict he took the previously stolen guard armor and ventured into one of the hotel rooms in the hall. He tossed the chest piece onto the bed and searched the wardrobe against the wall. McCree appreciated everything Doc Amari had done and given him, but the vault suit she provided did little in way of protecting - from the sun and from bullets. He didn’t expect to find much better in the old clothes he found, but at least he would be more comfortable.

He shouldered off his bag to dress in some faded-from-age jeans and a collared button-up, then folded the vault suit and stuffed it into the bag. The blanket from the bed came with him after he strapped on the chest piece and laced up his boots. He checked it for stains - blood or otherwise - before he decided on any worth. It was red and thin, but large enough to wrap around his shoulders and cover the bold N.C.R.C.F. across his back. The last thing he needed was to be mistaken for a powder ganger and be shot down by an NCR trooper later down the road.

With the bag back around his shoulder and dressed in his new rags, McCree felt more like himself than he had since he’d been shot in the head. He adjusted the “homemade” serape to sit more securely and made for the door, but then he saw it. On top of the wardrobe he had rummaged through, seemingly untouched by the havoc around it and pristine as could be, was a desperado cowboy hat. McCree grinned when he pulled it down, gave the brim of it a few whacks to shake off any dust it had collected, and place it on top if his head with a content sigh.

Now he felt back in his own skin.

=+=

He found Beagle on the bottom floor in the back of the hotel, in the dining area’s kitchen. He was knelt in front of the fridges, hands bound in front of him. He looked ragged, his white hair wild and his face dirty, exaggerated by the pout pulling at his expression.

“I don’t suppose you’re here to rescue me?” He asked, having undoubtedly heard the gunshots that had took place just outside where his captors had been loitering. “I’d cross my fingers, but my hands are numb.”

McCree regarded the sorry looking man with a raised eyebrow. “You must be Deputy Beagle.”

“Why yes I am,” he replied, insolently in turn for McCree’s flatness. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m in a bit of a predicament here. Would appreciate it if you set me free.” Beagle held up his hands wired together, a deliberate gesture.

McCree made no move to untie him. “I hear you might have some information I need, some words about a few Los Muertos and a woman in a purple checkered suit.”

“Indeed I do, good sir, and I would be thrilled to share that information with you as soon as I’m freed from captivity. I’m gonna need to be in a calmer emotional state for my memory to function as we need it.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, McCree narrowed his eyes at the man before him just slightly. He absolutely did not want to bother with this conniver after the trouble he’s put him through - Nash did not mention the incinerator the leader had been sporting when McCree found him. Unfortunately, Beagle did not waver. With a grumble, the cowboy knelt to mess with the knot, pointedly ignoring Beagle and the victorious glint in his eyes when McCree pulled the bonds free.

“Well, that’s just marvelous.” The deputy stood, shaking out his wrists and flexing his bloodless fingers. “I’ll be makin’ my way outside, now. The airs, ah,” he glanced behind McCree and at the smouldering tables and singed bodies. “Well, it’s a little close in here.”

He checked the kitchen for anything useful, coming out with a few more bottles of water, and met Deputy Beagle outside of the Bison Hotel. He was looking out over the streets with his eyes narrowed and his revolver drawn, looking like a sad excuse for a western hero rather than the man who had just ran through the hotel lobby with his hands over his head in fear.

“Hey, Deputy.”

Beagle jumped, spun around, saw it was McCree, and changed his demeanor back to the calm and suave hero. “Well, that was quite the adventure,” he declared, like he had much to do with it. “We taught those convicts a thing or two, didn’t we?”

McCree decided not to roll his eyes. “Sure.”

“Breaking myself out of a hostage situation - not to diminish your role in the whole thing, of course - but it was quite thrilling. Problem is, there’s still no law in Primm,” he went on, which solidified McCree’s suspicion that Beagle was, in fact, being one hundred percent serious in his claims. He didn’t dare argue, didn’t exactly want to. “What’re we to do the next time ruffians menace us and hold us hostage?”

Grow a pair, McCree wanted to tell him, learn to use that gun instead of posing with it, quit your hero act, be one instead of pretending, among other things. “If yer boss is dead, don’t that make you the new sheriff?”

Beagle’s eyes widened. “Oh no, I’m just a deputy! And I can’t be a deputy without a sheriff. It’s called chain of command .” McCree felt his jaw set firmly. He wanted to hit this man. Beagle chose not to notice this. “We need a new sheriff, someone brave like you, but more of a homebody. Someone with experience who’ll settle down and watch over us.”

“Know anybody who’d fit the requirements?”

“I heard some of the Powder Gangers talkin’ about someone in the prison named Meyers. Said he used to be a sheriff ‘fore he got locked up. Then there’s the NCR just over the bridge, they’re likely to jump at the chance to control another town.”

McCree didn’t like his options. After having just run enough of the criminals out of town, the convict sheriff was a bad idea for obvious reasons. On the other hand, he wasn’t comfortable with turning the town over to the NCR as there were so few independent cities left in the desert. McCree thought back to the tired soldier he had spoken with, the state of the military camp he belonged to, and decided that the NCR wouldn’t do Primm much good, either.

“I’ll help you bring law back to Primm,” he told Beagle anyway. “Just give me some time to find someone.”

Deputy Beagle’s face lit up. “You will? That’s just marvelous! I’ll start thinking up questions for the interview!”

He turned to walk away, heading for Vikki and Vance with an excited bounce in his step before McCree called out to him. “You still owe me some information.”

The man wilted, but only for a moment. “Ah, yes. My memory is much clearer now that I’m free.” Again, McCree refused to roll his eyes. “I was sku - uh, performing recon on the Powder Gangers when some Los Muertos guys arrived with your friend in the suit. They were talking about some delivery they took from a courier. Assumin’ that was you.”

“Seems about right,” McCree conceded.

“They said they would be headin’ through Nipton to Novac to meet a contact there.”

McCree let him handle his Pip-Boy just long enough to mark the road he needed to walk to follow his attackers’ route, then he was off again. McCree was glad to see him go.

=+=

Before he left town, McCree was sure to stop in and thank Johnson Nash once more, and ask about the robot in his express office. A courier had dropped it off months back, he found out, and Nash got it working again but only for a while. He explained to McCree that he was planning on using it for courier work, but he hadn’t any luck with getting it running again. He gave permission to McCree to tinker with it, and promised him the bot if he got it working. The prospect of a new, fancy toy buzzing around was enough to get him to try. As he left the casino to make his attempt, Nash commented on the fruitlity of the whole thing, said he’d just take it to the Novac scrapyard and be done with it.

McCree ignored him, and worked for the better part of three hours, shocking himself numerous times and cursing out loud more times than that. The machine sputtered to life when the sun began to sink, the casing snapping shut on its own and the body of the bot rotating so it could propel itself into the air. The sudden reaction gave McCree a jolt, stumbling off his stool and onto his feet. He stared at the robot cautiously, not exactly knowing what to expect from it. It would be his luck to have the thing start up on a combat mode.

Instead of incinerating him where he stood, the little robot beeped a few times, tilting down enough as if it was staring at McCree.

“Well,” McCree said, hands on his hips. He nodded at his work and let himself feel proud for a moment. “Would ya look at that.”

The robot beeped again in response.

It seemed to be running fine, it’s flight wasn’t jagged or shaky, and there was no smoke - McCree always took that as a good sign. He grinned, eyes catching on the hideous bumper sticker on the bot’s side once again.

“A Proud Bastion of American Ideals, huh?” A confirmatory beep. “Alright, then. Let’s hit the road, Bastion. Could use help like yours.”

wwhwhwhwheeeeew lmao. yeh.

#mcgenji #jesse mccree #genji shimada #kon's a writer

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moralityblurred · 6 years

Text

( hopefully ) quick rundown of my muses & their powers, maybe even ranked by most likely to fuck your shit up to smol bean don’t hurt me

thor - MCU CANON - literal god. okay, an alien that humans revered as a god. brings many thunders, but that’s not the part you gotta worry about. i mean, it’s thor. you know who thor is. playable at any point in mcu canon.

tony stark - MCU CANON - human but built himself his first robotic suit of armor out of scraps from his own company’s weapons. once called the most famous mass murderer in the history of america, but he’s changed now. just wants to protecc, but does it in a bad way. his armors have significantly advanced now, they’re made of nanotech. ooh, ahhh. soft for one girl and one woman, but there’s plenty of time to play with before pep put a ring on it.

bobby drake a.k.a. iceman - XMCU/616 CANON - omega-level mutant with cryokinesis & related powers, can even send his consciousness through ice or water and form and reform from water vapor, thus lending him an almost-invulnerability; weak to dry environments with v little moisture in the air, but also his own self-doubt and fear of harming ppl w/ his powers

pamela isley a.k.a. poison ivy - DC CANON - resident angry plant lady. humans are bad, they keep fucking her over. plants are much better. hot af, but like all pretty things, don’t touch. literally has a poison kiss. can manufacture toxins in her body like it’s child’s play. also magic spores that make everyone go ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ and then they dead. ultimate femme fatale meets environmental terrorist. but also can feed you apples and shit if you’re nice.

dalton jaynes - WITCH OC - thinks he’s completely human but he’s not, comes from a long line of male witches who are dreamwalkers but he also has some swanky electricity/computer magic ( such as being able to tap into the internet as a second brain almost & instantly translate languages he’s never even heard before ); currently his powers are awakening still so he’s low on this list, but if given the right guidance, could easily be on par with bobby’s level of power

kieran jaynes - WITCH/JURASSIC WORLD OC - knows he’s a witch and a dreamwalker and has been learning magic & training his skills from a very young age. oh, he’s dalton’s long lost cousin & they just found each other since dalton’s dad cut off communication with their family ( probably to save him from the magic & the slightly greedy, ambitious, elitist family. ) has been known to use nightmare magic to give himself an edge over a rival, but generally a charming guy otherwise. plays in a band. also works at jurassic world as a gallimimus handler. not as much power potential as dalton, but his is almost fully manifested.

victor zsasz - GOTHAM CANON - human, we think. possibly weird alien dna. jk, he’s human. he’s just an extraordinarily good hitman / bodyguard / enforcer of criminal empires. great guy to have on your side if you have dirty work to do, veeeeeeery bad guy to face if you pissed off someone in high places. might invite you out for a milkshake before you die though.

seth gecko - FDTD CANON - completely human, but he works out -flex- ok but srsly he’s a pretty damn good shot and he’s a skilled thief & conman with little regard for anyone standing in his way

stella woods - WEREWOLF OC - seems like she’s pretty human, a raging lesbian ( she doesn’t do labels though ) rebel child just doing her thing as a successful fashion photographer. except she’s also a werewolf and her senses go from ‘gee you have excellent senses!’ to ‘100000′ when that moon turns into a glaring pearl in the sky. hates it, hates herself for it, starts going a little batshit when the moon starts waxing full again. could fuck you up when she’s wolfy, but definitely doesn’t want to. unless you’re a misogynist.

by request only

roderick douglas - KELPIE OC - a kelpie with an extremely high level of intelligence & adaptability, so much so that he learned how to consume only the souls of his victim in order to avoid detection in the modern age. also his power shifted from his native waters in scotland to the hudson river after some asshole captured him & brought him to new york for a world’s fair. basically he’s an evolutionary marvel. but if you fuck with his silver bridle/necklace if he’s in human form, he’s fucked so that’s a thing.

hæilvi aflasdottir - WITCH OC - 1209 yr old witch & good bean, is kind of an ‘ancient’ norse priestess basically except not many ppl practice norse paganism anymore so she basically raises her plant babies & sails in her boats. but uh, if she needed to, she can lay the hurt on. she won’t like it, but she’s not a pacifist & if you’ve given her a reason to fight you, RUN. her biggest weakness is prob that she’s got dyslexia and has difficulties with spells sometimes & there’s not really anyone around to teach her/refresh her knowledge the way she learns best

tamandani fatsani - RAVAGER OC - alien evolved from cats on a planet called nadiiru. sharp claws, sharp teeth, heightened senses & quick reflexes. can totally see in low lighting & yes her pupils reflect demon light in the dark. ok but she’s also very morally gray & lives to steal. she’s a ravager.

lucille sharpe - CRIMSON PEAK CANON - completely human but severely mentally ill. prone to violence, has basically lost everything good in her life except for her brother who is also her lover, so she ain’t even care if she gotta fuck ur shit up. p.s. don’t drink the tea. p.p.s. did i mention she has a scientific curiosity in anatomy & biology & also how poisons work on the human body?

vanessa styles/gecko - FDTD CANON - also completely human, does not work out but she’s got some fair good guns herself. also a good shot, also can be ruthless, especially if your name is kate or you’re trying to steal her man

roman hayes - HUNTER OC - more or less human but he’s got some supernatural tingly senses. he’s a twin & unfortunately always been pretty sickly and fragile, but he tries okay. oh, and he’s also recovering from brain cancer that killed him a couple yrs ago ( long story short his bro basically enslaved himself to Death & became a reaper to bring him back )

nathan ingram - PERSON OF INTEREST CANON - completely human, software engineer ( tends to walk while his buddy runs ), alcoholic & if it’s in his survivor verse, he’s pretty seriously maimed by the explosion & suffers from breathing issues & general deterioration of his joints anyways

moved to separate blogs

loki ( of no surname ) - MCU CANON - um, a lot of magic, literally hundreds of years spent studying magic of various types with an emphasis in illusory magic & combat magic; weakest in healing magic, his magic does not seem to ‘bend’ to it very well; natural-born shapeshifter ( but limited to species/forms that ‘suit’ him )

ari niceta - ASSASSIN OC - human but a nice human, kinda. you see, he’s a hitman-in-training, an apprentice, a little pup growing up to be a wolf. he’s got good reflexes and good instincts to match, and an intuitive touch with weapons that only gets better with training. the fact that he’s genial makes him a good candidate for safeguarding vulnerable prisoners, but that doesn’t mean he can’t and won’t kill when the order is given.

#( ooc. )#( muse list. )#( ok these are listed most powerful to least powerful #not necessarily by temperament #since hæilvi is the last person who would hurt anyone tbh #unless she or someone she cared about was threatened. )#incest //#cancer //#terminal illness //#long post //#mental illness //

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lady-thor-foster · 7 years

Text

Hours in Midnight // Thor x Reader (P2)

Pairing: Thor x Reader (POC) Word Count: 3k+ Warning: Mild angst, Mentions of menstruation issues, Violence and Fighting, Language, Fluff, there’s a lot of emotions here and I’m not sure how to properly warn you about it

Summary: Lies are told. Secrets are revealed. Risks are taken.

A/N: I’ve been on a Savage Garden kick lately and this song just inspired some beautiful romance, so thank you Darren Hayes. As you know, I’m a huge fan of Nordic theology so I’ve mixed in a bit with comic book canon as well as MCU. Please let me know if you enjoy this!

Inspiration: “I Knew I Loved You” ~ Savage Garden

“There’s just no rhyme or reason Only this sense of completion, And in your eyes, I see the missing pieces, I’m searching for, I think I found my way home…”

Previously on Hours in Midnight // Chapter 3

Thor woke up alone.

Devastation had taken root in his bones before he even opened his eyes; realizing the side of the bed that seems to have always been yours was empty made him physically ill. Even Mjolnir hummed solemnly in your absence. You’d only spent a few days together but for Thor, his soul was never more alive than in your presence. Opening his eyes to emptiness of his chambers served only to confirm what his heart already knew: you left.

Laying there staring at the sky did nothing to calm the storm of thoughts swirling around in his head. How is it possible that his soul recognizes you? The connection between Thor, an Asgardian and you, a Midgardian ran deeper than he could begin to fathom. You’d only lived on the Compound a mere matter of months yet the moment Thor laid eyes on you he could feel his heart abound with joy. It was but a most peculiar situation.

Thor recalled the moment the both of you were first introduced. Despite being born Midgardian, you stood with the regality of a Royal. He watched as your quick observing gaze dissected him as a potential threat; your face was a carefully constructed mask but your eyes revealed everything. He heard your voice in his mind the moment your soul cried out with delight. Your not-so-subtle reaction to his presence went unnoticed by the other Avengers; the excitement of new team members was more important. When you walked away after a brief nod in his direction he was distraught; the sound of your retreating footsteps stirred a long buried anguish he had no memory of. Sighing heavily, he crawled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom; today was going on with or without him.

The welcome sight of his cherished comrades at the dining room table was the first thing to greet Thor when he stepped off the elevator. Festivities were in full force as Sam, Steve, Tasha and Bucky were celebrating the successful completion of their latest mission. Thor smiled to himself; they might not have been Asgardians but they were his family all the same.

“There’s my favourite Asgardian Prince!” cheered an overly rambunctious Sam Wilson.

“Do you know any other Asgardian princes, Sir Falcon?” he asked while laughing.

“Listen man, I told you: Call me Sam. Leave all this ‘sir’ stuff back in the Ren Faire, okay?” Sam said seriously. Thor’s rumbling laughter echoed throughout the dining room.

“As you wish, Sam.”

“Hey, where’s [Y/N]?” asked Steve, “She’s usually here for breakfast by now.” Thor couldn’t respond. The tightness in his chest only worsened. Steve glanced at the Asgardian; an understanding look crossed his face. He sent a not so gentle nudge into Tony’s ribs.

“Come on, Thor! Join us! It’s not a feast without our favourite prince!!” Tony shouted, half in pain. An easy smile crossed Thor’s face; he might not understand things between the both of you but at least he had his Midgardian family to help him through. Maybe missing you wouldn’t be as hard as he thought.

Leaving the safe embrace of your favourite Asgardian was one of the hardest things you’d ever done.

The cold of the tile whipped your feet in punishment the moment you crawled out of his bed. How could someone you’d only spent just a few days with come to mean so much to you so quickly? Why did you already feel the effects of love?

You aren’t sure exactly when you began to fall for him but you could swear it felt as if you’d already loved him for ages. Everything was easy; you fit like puzzle pieces. Taking one last long look at Thor’s sleeping form, your felt heart sink into your stomach. Even Mjolnir hummed unhappily. You wouldn’t see him again for weeks; saying goodbye was unimaginable.

Seeing Clint Barton’s knowing face the moment you stepped onto the Quinjet was almost enough to send you crawling back to bed. You weren’t ready to face the reality of your feelings just yet so you just ignored his radiating sympathy by focusing on stowing away your gear. You tried anyway.

“It doesn’t get any easier you know,” he said gently while strapping himself in.

“What doesn’t?”

“Leaving the ones we love behind.”

“I have no idea what you’re mumbling about, Barton,” you snapped. He sighed and tossed you a soft smile. You refused to meet his gaze. His words bouncing around your brain only served to irritate you further; shaking all thoughts of Thor from your mind, you opened the mission briefing. Two months in London here you come.

This had to be the worst mission you’d ever taken, Chitauri invasion included. From the moment you and Barton touched down in some unknown grassy field in England, things just kept going wrong.

First, your MI6 contact had no record of the two of you receiving authorization to be in the country. Second, after you sorted out the secretarial error, you found out the mission was actually three months long. Three months in cold, wet and frizz inducing weather. No amount of frizz control or leave in conditioner could control your wild and thick mane. (You were so incredibly thankful that Pepper helped you get protective styles become regulation because there was no way your free hair could survive in England.)

Third, the safe house MI6 set up for you and Barton was overrun with rodents. Rodents! This wouldn’t have been too much of an issue to deal with if the both of you were there for a couple of weeks NOT THREE FREAKING MONTHS. After the third day Barton got tired of trapping and releasing the obnoxious pests that he just called Fury and straight up demanded better accommodations. It was the first time you’d ever seen him truly angry; you made a mental note to never get on his bad side.

Once the two of you settled into a SHIELD safe house nearby, you discovered the rodents had chewed through half of your clothing and eaten your tampons. Barton thought that revelation was absolutely hilarious.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, CLINT? HOW THE HELL IS THIS FUNNY?!” you shrieked at the archer who was currently laughing hysterically while rolling on the floor. You would have found the situation amusing if this didn’t happen to be the one month you had a period. You seriously needed a better birth control.

“Come on, [Y/N]. Don’t you find this just a little bit funny?”

“I would if I weren’t currently bleeding through my backup reserves,” you retorted. That shut him up real quick. He popped up off the floor and did his best to compose himself.

“Alright, what can I do to help?”

“Go to the store and grab [your preferred brand of tampons] and some Midol. If you wouldn’t mind picking up a few things of ice cream and chocolate bars while you’re at it, that would be wonderful. I’ll contact Fury about sending me some extra gear. Thank the universe the actual mission isn’t for another week. I don’t know why MI6 thought we needed an entire month of prep, but right now I’m not complaining about it.”

“You got it.” He shrugged on his coat and headed for the door, snickering under his breath.

“Laugh at me one more time Barton; I swear to god you’re going to find out personally what it’s like to suffer from abdominal pain all week long.” He stopped laughing immediately and scurried out the front door faster than humanly possible. Even Pietro would be impressed.

Now that Clint was gone, the massive safe house suddenly made your skin crawl. You couldn’t shake the feeling that someone or something was watching you. A cold breeze caressed your skin; you felt the sudden urge to hurl. The sensation of fingers trailing up your arm had you suddenly reaching for your throwing blades.

“Hello?” you called out. The sudden need to smack yourself was almost impossible to resist. Way to sound like an idiot in a slasher horror movie, [Y/N]. A dark figure loomed in the corner of your right eye. Whirling around to face the suspicious figure, you were startled to find no one there. What the hell is going on? Every hair on your body stood on end; your instincts screamed danger. Time stood still. The temperature in the room decreased dramatically. You could actually see your breath in the air.

There was something primal and familiar about the taste of magick on your tongue. A long forgotten memory stirred in the back of your mind but before you could access it, something crashed to the floor behind you. Whirling around, you reading yourself for a fight. Your eyes led you to believe that you were alone but you knew better. You’d been an assassin far too long.

A small mew pierced the silence. What the—was that…? Another mew rang out. You spun around to see a small all black kitten with one green colored and one blue colored eye shivering on the ground under a table. Well then. Holstering your weapons, you knelt down to the floor to appear less threatening.

“Come here sweetheart. What are you doing out hear all by yourself?” you murmured. The kitten mewed in response. Flattening yourself against the floor to get eye level with the shaking kitten, you stretched your hand out cautiously. The kitten sniffed at your fingers curiously.

“It’s okay, darling. I won’t hurt you,” you said soothingly. As if finally determining you weren’t a threat, the tiny kitten launched itself it your hand, nipping playfully. You laughed softly and pulled yourself to a sitting position, previous danger temporarily forgotten.

Clint was a little startled to find you napping on the couch with a tiny black kitten watching him warily from your arms. Where the hell did you even find a kitten? Every time he even thought about going to wake you the kitten hissed viciously. Deciding he didn’t want to risk the tiny demon’s wrath, he pulled out his phone and sent a series of texts. Clearly he had to know someone who knew what to do in this situation.

Natasha was enjoying her mini vacation from Clint’s rambunctious antics while he was away on mission. As much as she loved the archer and their shared past, sometimes she needed to just step back and take a breather. She could only hope Kate Kane was enjoying her vacation as well. She’d finally convinced Wanda to take a break from the chaos of the Tower and relax on the pool deck with her.

“You were right Tash,” Wanda said as she read her book and lounged by the pool, “it’s definitely more fun without the boys.”

“What did I tell you? Everything is a thousand times more relaxing without male ego stinking up the place,” she laughed.

“Don’t let Tony or Bucky hear you say that. They’ll have a fit.”

“And Pietro won’t?” she challenged.

“My brother’s ego defies all odds. He’s secure enough in himself. I think…” Wanda replied. Natasha was too busy laughing to notice her phone buzzing repeatedly in her bag.

“I think Clint needs your attention, Tash.”

“He’s hardly been gone a few weeks! What could he possibly need right now?” she said exasperated. Reaching in her bag, she could immediately count at least 10 text messages from her best friend. She groaned inwardly and opened them.

“There’s a kitten sleeping on [Y/N],” the first one said. What the fuck?

“Naaaaaaat. I think the kitten wants to kill me,” read the second. Natasha just rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

“I’m serious! I’m pretty sure this tiny demon is plotting my death right this second.”

“Nat! It keeps hissing at me!! I just wanted to let [Y/N] know that I got the tampons she asked for.”

“Did I tell you the rats at our last ‘safe house’ ate all of hers? I feel bad for laughing but damn, that was fucking hilarious.” She was honestly surprised you didn’t physically injure him for laughing at you.

“Where did she even get a cat? WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE NAT. WHERE DID THE CAT COME FROM?! IT HAS TWO DIFFERENT COLOR EYES.”

“NATASHAAAAAAAA. I’M SO CONFUUUUUUUSED.”

“Wait, do all people who have periods acquire cats?”

“Do you think she wants to keep the cat? Hang on, she’s awake now lemme ask.” A few minutes passed between this and his next message.

“Update: We’re keeping the cat. Fuck.”

“JFC. Barton. What did we say about spamming me via text message especially when I’m on vacation?” Natasha replied.

“If it’s not an emergency, meeting, or mission related keep the messages a minimum.”

“What do you mean you’re keeping the cat?”

“She named it Lorelei.”

“Oh.”

“What’s going on?” Wanda asked.

“Apparently [Y/N] adopted a cat. Clint isn’t very happy about it.”

“Isn’t that a tiny bit hypocritical considering Clint adopts basically everything that moves?” Wanda snorted. Natasha burst into a fit of giggles.

“Between you and me: I think he’s just jealous because for once in his life an animal doesn’t like him.”

Thor decided that since he wasn’t needed on a mission or in Asgard that he’d finally go visit his mother Jord in Norway. Beckoning Heimdall, he set off on his journey.

“It is indeed quite lovely to see you, my beautiful son,” she smiled as she poured him a drink. He nodded his thanks and she settled herself into her own seat at the porch table.

“I apologize that I don’t visit you more often, Mother. Unfortunately, my duties prevent me from doing as I wish,” he replied.

“You father has always been a stickler for doing his duty. I’m not surprised you ended up like him in that way.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“So tell me, what’s on your mind?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Can this not just be a simple visit between a man and his mother?” he grinned.

“Your father isn’t the only one who knows things. What’s on your mind?”

“Do you think Asgardians have soulmates?” he asked. Jord nearly choked on her wine. Alarmed, Thor rushed to his mother’s side and pat her back roughly. Taking a few sips from the water glass in front of her, she waved him back to his chair.

“Why—why do you wish to know?” she asked warily.

“Because I think I might have met mine,” he responded earnestly. Jord shattered the glass in her hand in complete surprise. How was this possible? After everything she and Odin did to ensure this very conversation would never happen again, here Thor was, treading dangerous waters.

“Are you alright, Mother?” Thor worried. Jord nodded absentmindedly and with a wave of her hand, the glass put itself back together on the table.

“What do you mean you believe you have found yours?”

“There is a new Avenger. Her name is [Y/F/N]. I do not know how but it feels as if I have known her for ages. The moment we met, I heard her soul as it recognized me. I am unsure if she noticed. I am unsure if she knows or even feels the same way.”

It took every ounce of control Jord possessed to not react to Thor’s statement. She couldn’t believe her ears. You were alive! How the Hel were you alive? After all of these years, it was a twist of cruel irony that you would meet Thor as a hero yourself. Jord found herself chuckling sardonically.

“Have I amused you somehow, Mother?” Thor asked with a confused expression on his handsome face.

“Not you, my son. The situation. When we were younger, I used to think your father and I were soul mates. Now I know that was the wishful thinking of a foolish girl.”

“I am deeply sorry things between you and The All Father did not work out. Despite my affection for Frigga, she could never replace you as my Mother,” he said. Jord smiled warmly at her kind son. She felt exceptional guilt that she was about to lie to him, even if it were to protect him.

“I hope you know just how much I appreciate you, my darling son. To answer your question: I know not of Asgardians having soul mates,” she lied smoothly, “Perhaps I could visit the Norns on your behalf and seek answers?”

“I would be forever grateful, Mother. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my darling. Anything for you.”

A week passed.

You and Clint were finally setting off to go on your recon mission. You were just glad your goddamn uterus had finally decided to stop trying to put an end to you. It took a little while, but Lorelei was finally semi comfortable around you. She still absolutely hated Clint, which you found hilarious.

“[Y/N]! Your little demon is watching me pee again!” Clint shouted from the bathroom

“You are a grown man, you can ignore the cat! If you stopped peeing with the door open we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“How else am I supposed to see the subtitles for the movie when I pee?” he asked. You heard the faint sound of the toilet flushing and the sink running. You heard a yelp and then the skittering of Lorelei’s paws on the wood floors. Clint hopped out of the bathroom staring daggers at the mischievous kitten who was now seeking refuge in your arms. You laughed at the both of them.

“You do know you can pause the movie…don’t you, Barton?”

“I lost the remote…,” he said ashamedly.

“Fuckin hell, Barton. How does Kate live with you and not rip her hair out all the time?”

“Real nice burn there, [Y/N]. Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

“Annoyed. Hungry. Wishing we could go home already,” you stated. Clint rolled his eyes and flipped you the bird. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Shouldn't you be getting ready to leave? The car will be here in 20 minutes.”

“Unlike you, Barton. I don’t take forever to get ready.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.”

Remember how things had been going wrong left and right since you and Clint set foot in the godforsaken country? The mission was no exception. Despite all of the intel saying otherwise, the base you were infiltrating was overrun with HYDRA soldiers.

“Shit!” you hissed to yourself. Barton should count himself lucky that his half of the mission wasn’t for another week. Instead of calling for an immediate extraction (as was protocol) you decided to risk it and attempt to salvage the mission. This wasn’t anything you hadn’t dealt with before in your time as one of the world’s deadliest assassins. (A fact which none of your fellow Avengers, or anyone at SHIELD knew. Ironically, there was still a SHIELD bulletin that still called for your arrest. You snickered to yourself every time you saw it.)

As you scoped out the guards’ routine, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone or something was watching you. It made your skin crawl. Deciding to push it to the back of your mind, you made your way down to the far entrance of the building, having spotted your way in. That was a near fatal mistake. A guard came back to post earlier than you anticipated.

Even though you’d watched the guards for nearly two hours and clocked when they changed shifts down to the second, you couldn’t compensate for human nature.

“Hey!” he shouted.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath. Here’s hoping HYDRA guards were as stupid as they looked. No such luck. Shouting in at you Russian, he didn’t have time to raise his gun more than an inch before you let one of your knives fly. His body slumped to the ground noisily.

“Damn. I was really hoping to keep those clean this time around,” you said to yourself as you pulled the knife from his body. The cock of a gun hammer sounded behind you.

“Lucky for me, I was really hoping I’d get to kill someone today,” a man snarled behind you. You groaned inwardly; this was just not your day! Whirling around, you palmed another knife and loosed it before he could pull the trigger. He looked at you in surprise as he clutched the knife buried in his chest. He crumpled to his knees and collapsed. You sighed sadly; no matter how many times you’ve done it, taking a life always took a piece of your soul. Suddenly an alarm sounded around you. Son of a bitch!

“Are you sure it’s her, Heimdall?” a woman asked.

“My eyes do not deceive me, My Lady. It is Princess [Y/N].”

“How is this possible? We all saw her die!”

“I know not, My Lady. But if you do not go down there, we may yet watch her die again.”

“Very well. Open the Bifrost.”

“As you wish.”

You’d been completely surrounded by a horde of enemy soldiers before, but this was something else. Even with your talents, you didn’t think you’d be getting out of this completely scot free. Palming more knives, you squared your shoulders. It was now or never. Before you could even get a shot off, a blinding light appeared. It disappeared as quickly as it came, revealing a large woman in battle armor, brandishing a large sword. You’d had just enough with surprise encounters today.

“Sif? What the hell?!”

Forever Tags

@emilyevanston @bellamyblakesgun @morgandakotaq @avengersandlovers @happiness-is-sebstan @fangirlingisloud @melonberri @myluvislikewow @lexiboo29 @daisykane535 @palaiasaurus64 @quicksilverbells @iarnasoldat @zuni21798 @thesaraaaaahpfan @itsmarshalltime98

Story Tags

@lancefuckrr @redstarstan @redgillan @mcfuccfairy @asheanomhominem @feathered-winchester @bubbleboss15 @arrow-guy

#thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #hours in midnight #thor odinson #thor imagine #Foster writes #my fics #my imagines #my one shots #my stuff #my post

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