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someonestolemyshoes · 3 years

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Off the Record

Hello!! I am super excited to finally post my entry for @levihan-drabbles competition :D The prompt was super interesting and I had a tonne of fun writing this one!

The prompt I received was: Hange posts a picture of Levi somewhere and it becomes a meme.

(For those curious, this is the meme I used for inspiration)

Hange pushed her plate across the table and grinned at him. "Levi! Fancy seeing you here! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Levi's lip curled.

"You know what," he said. Hange braced her elbows on the table and rested her chin atop her knotted fingers.

"Enlighten me."

Colour rose in Levi's cheeks. For a moment, Hange felt a little guilty. For all Levi's grumbling and grunting, Hange had never seen him angry before.

"That bullshit article."

"Ah. Was there a problem?"

Hange met Moblit in a small cafe a little way down the road from the newsroom. She was in good spirits—her morning had been productive; she'd made steady headway with research for her next interview, finished the final edits for a few smaller tabloid pieces she'd been meaning to brush up, attended three short, perfunctory meetings on tedious company policy, and laid the groundwork for another exciting interview opportunity.

She felt good. And now she had the pleasurable prospect of a hearty lunch, a passable cup of coffee, and perhaps best of all, Moblit's company. His company, and his camera.

Hange threw herself into the seat opposite Moblit the moment she spotted him, hunched over his laptop in a corner of the cafe. He lifted his coffee cup just in time for Hange to clatter against the table, the thin metal frame rattling precariously. She offered him a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," she said, and then, "got anything exciting?"

"I don't know about exciting. Interesting, maybe, but no breaking news."

Hange flagged down a passing waitress with one hand, and waved Moblit off with the other. "Doesn't matter, doesn't matter," she said, then paused to order a drink and her favourite sandwich. "Tell me anyway."

"I got a tip-off from a waiter at Sina's."

Hange's eyes sparkled behind her glasses. She sat forward in her chair, folding her arms on the table top as she leaned closer. "Who?"

"Take a guess."

Hange grinned at him. Moblit was not one to play coy; he did his job and did it well, and reported his findings efficiently. To leave her to question it meant one of two things; he had photographed someone very high profile indeed, or it was somebody Hange was, for better or for worse, well acquainted with.

Or perhaps, if she were lucky, it was both.

"Let me see him, then."

Hange had taken far too much time in the cafe with Moblit. He had given her a rundown of all the details he'd gathered during his field work that morning, and shown her through his extensive photo gallery. It was impressive, the kind of archive Moblit could cultivate with only a 45 minute breakfast window.

Hange had been delighted. Moblit was right; it wasn't breaking news, nothing particularly thrilling, but there was a corner of the Internet, Hange knew, that would delight in a trashy little article just like this. Something quick and simple to bulk up the social media feed for the afternoon.

Plus, there was a series of pictures Moblit had snapped, a cluster he'd thought to be of no real merit, that Hange simply could not pass up.

She could lay down no facts with a story like this one. There was no hard-hitting investigative journalism to be had, but she could at least offer some speculation based on her knowledge of the subjects involved, and spin a tale juicy enough to get people talking.

It took little time at all to put the article together. Hange scribbled up an outline for the contents—the location; Sina's in downtown Hizuru, a luxurious restaurant serving five star meals at every hour of the day. High in quality, sickeningly steep in price. The time of day; 9am. To the best of Hange's knowledge, this was rather out of character for the subject. He was an early riser, but according to their interview last March pending the premiere of his newest movie, he wasn't the type to eat much at all before lunch time.

And then, the company. Eren Yeager was a relatively well-known actor, barely an adult at nineteen. He starred in his first role a decade earlier, and had seen commercial success in multiple movies and TV shows ever since. He had been something of a prodigy in his younger years, bold and precocious, possessing a natural talent many actors years his senior couldn't even hope for. As Hange understood it, he had recently hit a rather troublesome phase. An interesting line of inquiry, but despite his talent and his fame, Eren's presence was simply a cameo, compared to the subject of the article Hange was drawing up.

Levi Ackerman.

Levi is a fan favourite and a media delight. He's attractive no doubt, and his performance in any and every role is almost always met with critical acclaim. Outside of his career, however, he's an elusive thing, silent in any matters pertaining to his private life. He avoids any public event like the plague, and rarely shows his face at premieres or award ceremonies if he can possibly avoid it. He gives interviews only when required by some contractual obligation or other, or else when the journalist in question is so painfully persistent that it is simply easier to give in than to keep fighting.

Little of his personal life is known, but it is impossible for someone in Levi's position to avoid interacting with anybody at all, and even the great Levi Ackerman is not above scrutiny.

There are rumours. Several of them, accounts from fellow cast members, from staff, from directors, and even Erwin, his manager, has alluded more than once to Levi's sour disposition. He is prone, Hange has heard, to fits of anger, and is easily disgruntled by minor inconveniences. His dislike of anything unclean or untidy is the stuff of legends—Hange has seen this first hand, at their very first interview. He had entered the room, scowled at the chair before sitting in it, and given Hange a thorough once over before announcing, with no hint of humour, "your glasses are filthy."

Hange had found him both fascinating and quite delightful, in his own strange way. When he acts, Levi sounds eloquent; he is a master of emotive performance, wringing the last drops of anger, despair, or grief out of each and every word, or else injecting the perfect giddy jitter, or a tremor of humour when the scene called for it. As soon as the cameras stop rolling, though, Levi's tone becomes flat, and without a script, his words are clumsy and crass. He communicates poorly, quick to throw insults and crude remarks. Hange has interviewed him a number of times—she counts herself very lucky that Levi will consent to her requests without too much fuss, these days—and each time she finds herself spending half of their time together translating his answers into something a) family friendly, and b) understandable to the everyday reader.

There is nothing for Hange to translate this time. Moblit managed to speak to the waiter after Levi and Eren had vacated in hopes of gleaning any small tidbit of knowledge regarding their conversation, but the venture had been hopeless. The pair had grown silent upon the approach of any staff member, and spoke in tones too hushed for anyone nearby to hear. They learned nothing they couldn't extrapolate for themselves from Moblit's pictures; Eren looked sheepish, avoiding Levi's gaze in favour of staring into his drink, while Levi—

Levi looked furious.

Every picture featured his signature frown, which, in and of itself wasn't enough to assume Levi to be in any mood besides neutral, but some of the photos show a hint of bared teeth or pursed lips, with his brows pulled lower than normal, the space between them deeply creased. Hange found herself curious as both a journalist and as an acquaintance. They may not be friends, but Hange liked to think she knew Levi a little better than most people, at least. She could find nothing in their past interactions to suggest any relationship with Eren beyond the strictly professional. They had over a decade between them, and though they had worked together on more than one set, neither party had ever said anything to insinuate so much as a friendly attitude between them.

There was no resolution to her queries to be easily found. And luckily for Hange, this particular piece didn't require any. It was a gossip article, something spicy, jam-packed with buzzwords, what-if's and more questions than answers, designed to make people wonder. Levi's name in the title would be enough to draw people in; Eren's name was an added bonus. But the star of the show was Moblit's photography. Hange arranged the images she had chosen in a grid. In context, the pictures were intriguing, depicting a particularly ferocious part of Levi and Eren's exchange. Out of context, they looked a little ridiculous. Both would bring readers onto their home page.

Satisfied with her work, Hange queued the finished article for review, and turned her attention back to her schedule.

The article launched mid-afternoon. Hange watched, somewhat satisfied, as it was received much as she had expected it to be. The activity on their Twitter account skyrocketed, the tweet in question garnering more likes, retweets and replies in the hour after it's post than any other they’d dropped in the last month.

Hange had allowed it to slip from her mind after the first hour or so. She received praise from her bosses, and a text from Moblit, jokingly demanding she pay him even more handsomely for his work than she already had, and her cousin had called her in the evening on a quest for insider gossip she could share with her friends, but that had been the end of it. Hange thought of it no more until early the following morning, when she had stopped by the quiet little cafe beneath her flat for breakfast and her favourite coffee.

She had been polishing off her pancakes when the bell above the door chimed. She had paid little attention to the newcomer, until a shadow passed over her table, and a familiar voice said, "Oi, shitty glasses."

Hange looked up to see Levi Ackerman himself standing over her, his face twisted in a scowl.

There are perks of being reasonably acquainted with Levi. Hange always gets to conduct his interviews, and Levi only ever turns her down if her request is unreasonable. Like that time she demanded he meet her at this very coffee shop for "just a quick piece, about the cameo you did for the new season of Titans", only to show him she'd bought a new pair of glasses—"look, all clean!"—and, when pressed, admitted there was no interview at all. He had been far more hesitant to indulge her in smaller affairs after that, but Hange was still lucky enough to be his only regular interviewer after big releases.

More interviews means more commission for Hange, and more high profile work with other celebrities. Yes, being acquainted with Levi has its bonuses.

But it also has its downsides. Namely, that Levi will not hesitate to turn up at her regular coffee shop to berate her after she has posted some complete and utter wank at his expense.

Hange pushed her plate across the table and grinned at him. "Levi! Fancy seeing you here! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Levi's lip curled.

"You know what," he said. Hange braced her elbows on the table and rested her chin atop her knotted fingers.

"Enlighten me."

Colour rose in Levi's cheeks. For a moment, Hange felt a little guilty. For all Levi's grumbling and grunting, Hange had never seen him angry before.

"That bullshit article."

"Ah. Was there a problem?"

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?"

Hange sat back in her chair and sipped at her coffee. Levi's face was full colour now, a pale pink flush from his neck right up to his hairline. Hange gave him a measured look, then kicked out the chair opposite her.

"Sit," she said. "If you have issues, I'd be happy to discuss."

Levi looked for a moment like he'd like nothing more than to strangle her. Then he pulled out the chair the rest of the way, and dropped himself into it.

"I don't give a fuck about the article," he said. "It's shitty gossip anyway."

Hange raised a brow at him. She opened her mouth to continue when, without prompt, a young waitress approached their table, practically bouncing on the spot as she stopped and gave Levi a dazzling smile. Her cheeks were flushed prettily, and Hange would have thought she were simply starstruck, if it weren't for the light of mirth in her eyes.

"Good morning, sir. Can I get you anything?" She gave Levi no chance to respond, before plowing on. "Water? Or tea, perhaps? Forgive me, but you seem a little upset. Might a nice tea calm you down?"

Levi grit his teeth. "No, thank you."

Hange almost apologised to the poor waitress on his behalf, but she didn't look bothered at all by his rudeness. In fact, she had barely turned from the table before she snorted in laughter, and caught her giggles in her hands as she scurried back behind the counter. A second passed, before all three waitresses snickered.

"That," Levi hissed, "is your fault."

Now Hange truly was confused. She furrowed her brow at him. "How does that have anything to do with me?"

"You and your stupid article," he said. Hange looked back to the waitress, who looked to their table again before falling into a fresh fit of giggles. Hange turned back to Levi, a little sympathetic.

"I think she just fancies you."

"You're trying to tell me you really don't know the mess you've caused?"

Hange shook her head slowly. Levi watched her closely, searching for proof of the lie, but Hange's earnestness must have shown through, for Levi's anger abated a little, and he slumped back on his chair.

In lieu of a verbal explanation, Levi pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times, typed something out, and scrolled a little way, before placing the phone on the table and sliding it towards her. Hange pulled it closer with a frown.

The screen displayed Twitter, and showed the feed beneath the search for Levi's name. Hange scrolled a few posts, eyes widening little by little as she went.

Levi was right. The contents of the article were of little significance at all. The photo grid, however, had gone viral overnight.

It showed four pictures of Levi and Eren, taken in succession. Each one showed only a portion of the back of Eren's head, but Levi's expression in every frame was more animated than Hange had ever seen him outside of his movie scenes, and each was more distraught than the last. Face tight, jaw clenched, teeth bared, with his finger pointed condescendingly in Eren's face. The second last picture shows his brows arched and his lips pressed into a thin line, and the final one—

Hange had laughed at it in isolation when Moblit had shown her. She had fully expected it to garner a few laughs, but she hadn't expected a photograph of Levi furiously slurping his tea to become a meme in less than 24 hours.

"I see," Hange said, as she calmly slid the phone back to him. "In my defense, you don't help yourself. It wouldn't be half as funny if you didn't hold your tea cup so weird."

"In my defense," Levi snapped, "If you didn't post it online nobody would have anything to laugh at."

Hange crossed her arms on the table and leaned towards him, smiling pleasantly. "In your defense, you wouldn't have been so angry in public if it weren't for whatever Eren had to say. What was that about, by the way? I'm terribly curious."

Hange expected a very Levi response to her prying; a scowl, perhaps a quick kick under the table, an 'It's none of your damn business, four-eyes', if she were lucky.

What she got instead was a haughty sniff, and a gruff, "He's fucking my cousin."

For a moment, they were silent. Either Levi's anger at his new meme status had temporarily disabled the part of his brain that blocked any mention of his private life from slipping past his lips in the wrong company, or something about Eren's indiscretion had rattled him so much, he couldn't keep silent about it. Either way, he looked increasingly surprised—and horrified—at himself for saying it out loud. Hange's eyes were wide, and Levi's were growing wider by the second. Of all the people to slip up to, he had slipped up to her. An entertainment journalist, the one person in his life who thrived on this kind of insider knowledge.

Hange swallowed. Levi was still staring at her like a deer in headlights, no doubt painfully aware that there was no taking back what he had said now.

Hange doesn't take a great deal of pride in what she does. She feels satisfied when her stories receive the reception she'd predicted, validated in her ability to analyse their consumer base and make accurate assumptions about what will hit and what won't, but the work itself feels dirty, at times. An opportunistic scavenger feeding on whatever carrion they can find, no matter how rotten it may be.

This is a perfect opportunity. Salacious details of Levi's interpersonal relationships, right from the horse's mouth. If it were anyone else, Hange would be scribbling every word verbatim in her notebook.

But this is Levi. Levi, who seems jarred by her last article (though Hange will maintain this, at least, is no real fault of her journalism, and also, absolutely hilarious) and was clearly, for whatever reason, incensed by Eren's actions.

Hange brushed her palms over her thighs, and picked a speck of lint from her trousers.

"This is nice, isn't it?" She said, "having breakfast together. We should do it more often. It feels good to just talk, sometimes. Off the record."

Levi blinked rapidly at her. He opened his mouth, but, still too shocked by his own loose tongue to speak, he said nothing. Hange pulled her phone from her bag and fiddled around with it some, tapping here and there, until she found what she was looking for. She turned it to Levi, and said, "I think this is my favourite edit so far."

Levi finally pulled his gaze from her, and looked down at the screen. It was truly something, the way the picture snapped him out of his stunned silence. Hange had never seen someone's face pinch up so rapidly.

"Come on, it's kinda funny. And look! That's Tony Stark, right? People are so creative. And maybe, if we're really lucky, Buzzfeed will do a compilation article of all the best ways people have used your new meme."

Levi rolled his eyes at her. It looked strange, with his face so tightly twisted. Hange chuckled at him.

She nudged his ankle beneath the table with the toe of her shoe. "Lighten up, you look constipated."

"Oi, out of the two of us I'm not the one who's full of—"

"—Full of shit, I know, I know. That honour is all mine."

They lapsed into another silence, this one marginally more comfortable than the last. Hange finished the last of her coffee and checked her emails, while Levi tortured himself some more by scrolling through his Twitter feed. After a short while, he spoke again.

"That...doesn't sound bad," he said.

"Hm?"

"What you said about talking more. Off the record. It doesn't sound bad."

It was Hange's turn to flush. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she occupied herself by rifling through her bag in search of nothing.

"Yeah?" Her voice, an octave higher than usual, cracked around the vowels. She cleared her throat, "will you have more gossip for me? It's almost painful that I can't share it, you know."

"Good. I'll share as many secrets as I've got, if it'll bother you that much."

"Sounds terrible," Hange said. She tore a clean corner off her napkin and scribbled her personal number onto it. She slid it over the table to him. "Text me."

Levi pulled a face at the piece of napkin. "Is that used? Gross, shitty four-eyes." He pocketed it anyway.

Hange didn't know what else to say. Levi didn't seem to either, and so he stood, and tucked his chair back in. Hange turned her eyes down to her empty plate. Her stomach and chest felt strange, almost sickly, but in an oddly pleasant way.

Levi rapped his knuckles on the table. Hange jumped, startled, and looked up at the sound.

"This part is on the record," he said. The corner of Levi's mouth quirked into a small, barely there grin. "I heard from a reliable source that Eren was so scared on the set of Last War that he pissed his pants. Twice."

#Levihan #snk #my writing #THIS ONE WAS SO FUN I would like to revisit this one day #I enjoyed their dynamic hehe

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dailyniallnews · 3 years

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Niall Horan: Live at The Royal Albert Hall

While some may argue that too few artists have done their bit to raise awareness for the people of the music industry who since March 2020 have been forced to stop practicing their profession, one artist who has stepped up to the plate is singer-songwriter and former One Direction star, Niall Horan. Joining forces with the crew-led organisation, We Need Crew, on 7 November 2020, the singer welcomed fans from around the globe to bear witness to a one-off performance from the eerily empty Royal Albert Hall, with all profits going to his touring family and technical entertainment charity, Backup.

In the lead up to the livestream, Horan could be found on almost every television network, promoting the show and explaining why the performance required the attention of all music lovers. In his own words: “I’m putting on this gig to raise awareness of the immense value they bring to an industry enjoyed by so many and do something to help them and their families. I ask all my fans to support them with me and buy a ticket if you can, and I encourage all artists to do the same.”

With several weeks passing since both artist and crew took over the RAH, TPi caught up with the crew behind the project and to get their thoughts on this very special event.

PRODUCTION ORIGINS…

“I remember it was a Monday morning when I got the call from Karen [Ringland] and Alice [Martin], who explained the concept of We Need Crew,” reminisced Ant Carr, Head of Production for Modest! Management. Both founders of We Need Crew explained to Carr that the goal of We Need Crew is, in association with #WeMakeEvents, to raise money for touring professionals who have fallen on hard times due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

“What really appealed about their organisation was that it was created by crew, for crew,” Carr said. “Around the same time, I was having conversations with Niall, who had already seen a few peers doing livestream performances, and we discussed the idea of performing in an iconic venue to raise awareness for the plight of the industry.”

With these two conversions in mind, Carr began to pull the pieces of would become Horan’s streamed performance together, as well as a big launch for the We Need Crew campaign. Carr and the rest of the Modest! team got to work reforming his touring family, whose album cycle had been stopped prematurely in March 2020.

“We were in LA when everything began shutting down,” stated Carr, who explained how he and the rest of the crew were in their last few weeks of promo before heading into rehearsals for Horan’s world tour. “We were finishing up a week on James Corden when the announcement came that the borders were due to be shut, so we all had to head back to the UK pretty quickly.”

After several months with no work, both Carr and the rest of the crew were all enthusiastic about getting back together to put on a very special performance. “In many ways, it was like we had never been away,” explained Production Manager, Andy Colby. “There was a part of me that thought it might have been a bit strange with it being so long since we worked together, but 30 minutes into the first rehearsal at SW19, it was like we had just got off the plane from LA.”

Colby was one of many familiar faces from Horan’s touring family who got the call to help with the livestream, alongside several technical suppliers including Wigwam and midnight:lights. KB Event provided a Megacube Artic for rehearsals in SW19 along with a Tech Kit for the show, oversaw by Lead Driver, Steve Crawley. Pulse Films and promoter, Driift were brought into the fold to make the event a reality.

In total, some 127,000 tickets for the performance were sold to 151 countries. “The response we had from fans was fantastic,” enthused Carr. “The funds raised are going to be able to help a good number of touring crew and their families and we kept this in the forefront of our mind in all aspects of the show.”

Carr was also quick to complement the attitude of the man in front of the camera. “Niall was very involved in every step of the process. He really gained a full grasp of the situation and during the promotion of the show, he really wanted to educate the public, and his fanbase, about what was going on in the sector.”

SETTING THE STAGE…

A few weeks from the broadcast date, a small group visited the Royal Albert Hall to make a start on planning how the show would come together. Lighting and Show Designer, Emma Bull and Director, Paul Dugdale led the creative vision. The livestream began with Horan performing a song on the piano on the venue’s stage, before walking down to the centre of the room to play the rest of the show in 360° in the centre of the hall. A top priority for the visual team was putting both Niall and the venue in the spotlight.

Bull elaborated: “Although several dance shows utilise the centre of the room, Paul’s Dugdale’s suggestion to do this for a music act felt fresh and was a strong starting point for the design,” she noted. “Having Niall and the band in the centre gave us a few options to really show off the building and take advantage of the fact the whole space was empty.”

One of her design ideas to make use of the space was to fill the empty boxes of the hall with lights. “It really ‘shined a light’ on the fact that there was nobody in the space,” she commented.

Aiding her in both the programming and running the show was Richard White of midnight:lights. “In total, we built 114 bespoke plinths for the audience boxes,” he stated. “On these sat a combination of Robe LED Beam 150s and Robe Spiiders.” The arrangement of these fixtures and boxes created a 360° backdrop of the central stage, with fixtures focussed into the room as well as back on themselves to flood the boxes.

The other key lighting elements included three Robe BMFL Robospots for keylight, which were placed in the venue’s gallery level. “We kept most of the control of these at the console with it being a 360° shoot,” stated White. “We were then able to shift the keylight/backlight across the fixtures as the camera tracked.” Around the central stage, the lighting team deployed SGM Q2s to provide some glowing footlights, along with Litepanel Gemini Softlights for Niall’s microphone position. “From the beginning, I knew I didn’t want there to be any rigging or trussing in the shot,” explained Bull. “We didn’t want anything to distract from the key elements of the shot – Niall and venue – to produce a clean look.” This is also why the visual department moved away from the idea of a backdrop and instead showed off the immensity of the famed venue.

Aiding both Bull and White in their endeavours was Lighting Programmer, Dan Young. In the lead up to the show, both Young and White spent several days in the previs suite at midnight:lights using Syncronorm Depence² to plan the show. “I have worked with both Dan and Richard several times and they have a great understanding of my aesthetic,” praised Bull. “I like things to be quite static in terms of colour palette with refined looks.” During the show, White oversaw the key lighting with Young programming all the moves. This gave Bull the freedom to act as a go-between between both the lighting and the stage to ensure the integrity of the design for the broadcast.

“The main challenge for this show was to provide consistent lighting over the different shooting styles,” mused White. “On one hand, we needed to have soft beauty lighting for close-up shots and steadycam work, but we also needed to make sure that the stage was physically as clear as possible for all the wide room shots and overhead wire-cam.” To add a level of accuracy, most of the live show was programmed to timecode because the visual team were situated outside of the room during the shoot.

LIGHTS, CAMERA, LIVESTREAM…

Jim Parsons was brought in by Pulse Films to assume the role of Producer. “By the time I got involved, the concept had already been fairly well developed by Emma Bull and Paul Dugdale,” Parsons began. “From my side, it was a case of getting all the video and visual elements and working out some of logistics of how we’d get the event to the finish line.”

Parsons has collaborated with Horan several times over the years. “The fact he came from the TV world means he has much more of a grasp than many of his peers of what goes into this style of performance and how to connect with fans through a camera,” he enthused.

Speaking a few weeks after the event took place, Parsons reflected on what he and the team achieved with the livestream. “We always knew we had an opportunity to do something different with this show,” he commented. “The end resulted was big and beautiful, but it was still ‘live’. It had the feel of a real show and didn’t come across prescriptive or dull.”

Parsons went on to describe the collaboration between himself and Driift, having worked together several times during 2020 on shows for Kylie Minogue and Sleaford Mods. “Ric Salmon and the rest of the Driift team are the kind of broadcasters I really like collaborating with in that they just let you get on with your work,” stated Parsons plainly. “They were obviously interested in the initial conversations and in the creative, but once it was all in place, they left us to it.”

Driift CEO, Ric Salmon offered his two cents on the project. “The fact that Niall ended up selling 127,000 tickets for the event is such a huge achievement, made all the better as it was all for such an amazing cause,” he stated. Unsurprisingly, 2020 was a busy year for Driift as the company offered livestreaming solutions for several artists. “There are almost too many benefits with this format of show,” stated Salmons while discussing the progression of livestreaming solutions that have only expanded in the past few years. “As we move forward, I think you’ll find more people opting for this style of event over, say, music videos,”

Parsons described what it was like working in the RAH. “It’s a beautiful venue, but we have all seen it thousands of times and there’s no denying that making it look different is quite a challenge. So, hats have to go off to the visual team for making this livestream look so unique.”

A Luna Remote System Junior 5 Telescopic remote compact dolly on a circular track along with a Dactylcam Pro point-to-point wire camera system captured the magic of the livestream. The spanned the periphery of central stage to present virtual audiences with a 360° view.

Camera Supervisor and joint Owner of Luna Remote Systems, Dean Clish discussed what it meant to be involved in such a prestigious show. “It was an honour to be involved in Niall’s show,” he commented. “It was for such a great cause and it’s always good to be in the Royal Albert Hall – you can’t go wrong with such a beautiful location.”

He continued to discuss why the camera selection was ideal for this type of performance. “The Junior 5 and the Dactylcam Pro are perfect for this kind of shoot because of the need to socially distance and, of course, with this sort of intimate production, they are both really unobtrusive and discreet systems,” he explained. “We’ve rigged the Dactylcam in the Royal Albert Hall before. It’s a brilliant system to use in there as you can really capture the essence of the hall from a height, in flight, in a way that you can’t with static systems.”

SOUNDING OUT…

The production brought back the audio double act of FOH Engineer, Matthew Kettle and Monitor Engineer, Joe Campbell to oversee the mix for the livestream and the band on stage. Having started working with Horan on his first solo album cycle, Kettle gave an overview of his time with the artist. “I didn’t really know what to expect before I’d heard the debut record and, as I was more known for working with rock music, I wasn’t sure I’d be the right fit,” he commented. However, with Horan’s solo music citing influences including Fleetwood Mac and Bruce Springsteen, the Engineer explained how it had been a fruitful partnership over the past three years. “Niall is really quite involved with the audio production and often during rehearsals will listen to the mixes to get a feel of what is being produced.”

Having been put on a hiatus since the tour’s cancellation in March, Kettle described what it was like to pull the pieces back together for the tour. “It’s really quite a different process producing a mix for a livestream compared to a live show,” he mused. “I have always had massive respect for broadcast engineers as it is such a different craft. When you’re mixing live in a venue, if anything goes wrong, you can fix it for the next performance. However, with a broadcast, everything is under much more of a microscope and under a great deal of scrutiny. Not only that, but you only have one shot at a show.”

Kettle explained that once he and the team entered rehearsals, they soon found their rhythm. “The approach to mixing was not too dissimilar to what we had already been working on for the tour. Just like the visual department, we didn’t want the production to be too flashy, aiming to simply reflect the intimacy of the performance without too much embellishment,” he commented.

For this reason, both Kettle and Campbell virtually replicated their audio setups they had planned to use for the world tour, featuring two DiGiCo SD5 consoles for monitors and FOH, along with Shure Axient Handhelds with Sennheiser 2000 Series IEMs, d&b audiotechnik wedges and a V-Series for side fills.

The console setup was not significantly different from the touring configuration, with multiple inputs from various SD-Racks in different parts of the stage and performance areas going to the broadcast SD5, all connected by an Opticore loop and shared with Campbell’s SD5 in monitor world. “The SD5 is my favourite console in the world,” said Campbell. “I love it and, because DiGiCo products are well proven and rock solid reliable, we rarely have to include them directly in what we do.” Cambpell was initially concerned in the lead up to the show, having not touched a desk since March. “Thankfully, Wigwam had kept the desks in pristine condition – so much so that our show files were even still loaded on the desk from the tour. This saved a great deal of time in rehearsals and certainly made it easier to get back into the saddle.”

Campbell was keen to replicate the same stage setup for Niall and the band. “During the tour, although he uses IEMs, I still have a wedge and side fills just in case he wants to take out his ears to hear the crowd,” he explained. “Even though it was a livestream with no audience, I wanted the show to feel as familiar as possible for him and the band.”

Despite a relatively “meat and potatoes” band setup, Campbell had just under 100 inputs on his desk – the result of several reverb returns and an elaborate talkback system. “Each one of the band members have a talkback mic so throughout the performance they can talk to one another and me,” he noted.

Meanwhile, Kettle’s ‘FOH’ position was slightly further away, setting up in a corridor off from the main hall. “Wigwam prepared an acoustic treatment kit so I sat at the desk with several studio monitors to mix the show and then sent my audio feed to the Pulse team,” stated Kettle. “Before going into the RAH, I was concerned with how the room would react with no audience in there to dampen the sound, but from the first sound check it sounded fantastic.”

Discussing Wigwam’s involvement with the project, Tom Bush commented: “We were all extremely proud to be supplying Niall’s livestream, especially as it was addressing the We Need Crew and #WeMakeEvents funds and highlighting what goes into putting on a production with the unseen and behind-the-scenes rolls.”

Bush went on to explain the approach to this type of performance: “A slightly different thought process can be needed – the standard positions for mixing, for example. The package wasn’t too dissimilar to the one we had ready for the world tour, so we had a good starting point. A few additions and tweaks were needed to adhere to the show setup, but Matt and Joe’s attention to detail made sure the process was smooth. The need for trucks full of PA hasn’t been required yet, but soon hopefully. We currently have a few livestreams pencilled in that we’re all looking forward to.”

#WENEEDCREW…

Looking back at the slew of 2020 livestreamed performances, Niall Horan stands out among the crowd, not only for its aesthetic, but because of everything it represented – not to mention the sizeable pot of funds it raised for the live events industry.

As we enter a new year with the live events sector entrenched in the clutches of the COVID-19 pandemic, the hope is that more musicians will follow in Horan’s footsteps to shine the spotlight on hardworking crew members that are so often out of sight and mind to the average live music lover. In the meantime, more information regarding the We Need Crew initiative can be found on www.weneedcrew.co.uk

#niall horan #article #rah live stream promo #13jan21

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penguinwithitsarseonfire · 4 years

Text

Everyone Secretly Wants You

Pairing: 13th Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 3,528

Warnings: None

Summary: The Doctor takes her fam to an art gallery, showcasing the work of Ava Centuria, her favourite artist of the 42nd century. However, she gets more than she bargained for when said artist takes a keen liking to you.

A/N: I know today has been... a lot. So here's something short and fluffy I wrote to take my mind off of things. Keep yourselves safe and surrounded by love my friends. All the best everyone and lots of love ❤️

“Well then,” Graham said. “Art galleries have certainly changed.”

You had to agree. It didn’t really look like any sort of art gallery you had ever seen before. There were people performing on stages, gallery goers were dressed in multi coloured neon robes, and food that changed shape on on the trays the waiters carried around. It looked like some sort of fancy festival, and you felt like any second you would see Billie Eilish casually stroll around beside you.

You loved it.

“It’s the 42nd century Graham!” The Doctor cried. She was hard to miss, she had replaced her coat with one that was a bright neon blue. “No one cares about stuffy rich people etiquette at these sort of things, it’s why Ava Centuria is so amazing! She completely reshaped societal norms, she made kooky mainstream.”

“Sounds like fun,” Yaz said encouragingly, and she was giving the Doctor a pair of thumbs up. It looked comical, her finger nails were each a different neon colour, and she wore a black suit with neon coloured stripes, reminding you of the kind of thing a school principal would wear to a carnival, except, well, neon.

As the five of you entered, you passed a towering banner that had a woman’s face plastered across and the word ‘Welcome’ written beside her. She was quite beautiful, with sharp cheekbones, long curly black hair, and painted red lips.

“Woah,” Ryan said, as the whole lot of you craned your heads so you could see it more clearly. Ryan had gone all out for the gallery, and had neon green wings painted under his eyes, which matched the neon green blazer he was wearing over a white shirt. “Is that her? This Ava chick.”

“Yup,” The Doctor said proudly. “Oh I can’t wait to meet her, I bet she’s a riot.”

Then a pair of bells rang and you jumped, clutching onto the Doctor with a yelp. Your heart sat in your throat and the Doctor placed her hand onto yours. You soon found your gaze met with hers, and your heart continued beating rapidly, but this time, for an entirely different reason. In this light her eyes almost looked like they were bright green. They sparkled under the light, and for a moment, you were mesmerised.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, tearing yourself off of her. “Just startled.”

A small marching band began walking past, wearing bright red uniforms. One of them blew something that looked like a kazoo, and it let out the shrilling bell sound that had just startled you. The Doctor gasped, her eyes shining in delight. “Oh I am following that,” and without another word, she had zoomed off.

The rest of you looked at each other, exasperated. After one moment, then another Yaz rolled her eyes. “Alright, okay, I’ll follow her. If we get into trouble I’ll ring.”

“Not too loud I hope,” Ryan said with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to startle Y/N.”

You gave him a glare, that was only half fake.

“Oh nah,” Yaz said, and met Ryan’s smirk. “Without the Doc around, there’s no one for Y/N to cling on to!”

You began to splutter out a protest but the other’s laughed, and before you knew it, Yaz jogged off with a wave.

You sighed dejectedly. “I really was freaked out.”

“We know,” Graham said. “Just teasin’ is all.”

You, Ryan, and Graham began exploring the art gallery. Ryan nudged you on the shoulder. “When’re you gonna tell her anyway?”

“Tell who what?”

“You can play confused around her,” Graham said, by your other side. “But we know better.”

You rolled your eyes, and a waitress appeared in front of you, offering you a platter. You watched for a moment as the collection of little cakes changed from neon orange to neon cyan, and they looked almost as if they were glowing. It was so cool. You plucked one off the tray and shoved it into your mouth, nodded your thanks and then grinned ruefully at your friends as you sidestepped away from them.

The cake was nice. it wasn’t a flavour you could identify, but it was sweet and fluffy, like a cloud.

Graham took three.

“C’mon Y/N,” Ryan said, skirting around the waitress so he could catch up to you. “You know she likes you back.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” you lied. “I just want to eat some cake and look at some funky art.”

Also a lie.

Graham held out one of the cakes to Ryan, and, in doing so, essentially barred you in between them. Ryan took off a chunk and popped it into his mouth. “What’s got you so worked up about it anyway, it’s not as if you’re as emotionally awkward as she is,” he sounded like he was speaking from experience.”

“You too,” you said. “Are the worst wingmen in the history of wingmen ever. Now I’m going to go over…” You glanced around the room, trying to find an area that was relatively crowded. “There,” you said, pointing at a crowd of people gathered around a stage where a man was eating… was that fire? Wow. “So,” you continued. “If you’re going to butt your noses into my love life, I suggest you keep up.”

You dove under Graham’s arm and ran. Look, it wasn’t as though you didn’t like them – of course you did, they were some of your best friends. But it was awkward talking about the Doctor. It was so confusing, she, was so confusing, and you didn’t have the energy to think about it right now.

You slipped into the crowd and scurried to the front, dogding and weaving through neon coloured bodies. When you made it you ducked, turning around so you could try and find Graham and Ryan through the gaps in the people.

There, in the back, towards the right. They were standing around like lost puppies. Good, you had definitely lost them.

Slowly, you navigated your way through the crowd until you were by the other side. This area was far quieter, and you ducked into a narrow hallway.

You’d lost them, and with it, you had lost those annoying questions.

You’d find them soon enough, you just needed ten minutes where a ‘will they, won’t they’ conversation wasn’t the focal point of anything and everything your friends wanted to talk about. Ten minutes without knowing smiles and staring at each other like they were in on some secret, or like they were characters on The Office.

You found yourself in a relatively empty room, save a few individuals. There was clothing propped up everywhere, and you quickly realised it was on display like a stagnate fashion show. Slowly, you began walking around the room, taking it all in.

And then you saw it.

Completely and utterly confused, you stood in front of a dress. You caught snatches of conversation from the people next to you, who were praising the piece for its creativity and out-of-the-box presentation, but to you... well, it was ugly.

It held a clattering of different patterns; the skirt was made with stripes of cheetah print, rainbow polka dots, red gingham, and acid washed denim. The top clashed even more, and was made of a sequinned fabric, one that, when you moved it, you assumed would change colour.

You weren't sure if it was supposed to be an open smock or a cape, but a sheer, neon orange fabric was drapped around behind the dress and over the arms of the mannequin. It ended in huge black ruffled lace, lining the mannequins wrists and the kissing the floor.

Now, this wouldn't be too bad if there were any structure to the dress, but it was cut into a t-shirt shape, so there wasn't any reason, practically or otherwise, to separate the skirt from the top.

Not to mention the Edwardian style ruff collar that sat around the neck, was made out of, of all things, CD’s – which apparently still existed. You wondered if it was a commentary on something, though you couldn't think of what.

You screwed your face up, concentrating, trying to find something, just a single element about the dress that you liked. It was just... awful, you were sure you could even argue that as an objective fact. Surely the thing broke some sort of laws about fashion and style.

"It's a social experiment," a warm voice said beside you, and you jumped. You hadn't heard anyone coming.

You turned to face the person who owned the voice, and assessed her thoughtfully. You recognised her, but you weren't sure from where.

"I thought I would explain it to you," she continued. "Since you were quite obvious on your distaste for the piece."

The realisation dawned on you like a wave of ice water, running through your mind and down into your bones. Her high cheekbones, her wry cherry red smirk, her unruly, uncontrolled black curls dancing under the light as she cocked her head to the side, it couldn't be.

But it was. Standing beside you was Ava Centuria, the artist whose work was on display.

The artist who had designed this dress.

The artist who had just called you out on not liking her dress.

Your realisation must have shown on your face, because she broke out in a pearly laugh. "I do appreciate constructive criticism though. So, tell me, what don't you like about it?"

You gauged her thoughtful. Part of you was about to splutter out an apology, tell her that you actually really did like her work. But that would be a lie, and somehow, under Ava Centuria's warm gaze, lying to her just didn’t feel right.

You looked back to the dress, then to her. “Honestly. I… I just think it’s ugly.”

She let out a delighted laugh again, and you realised it was actually quite a lovely sound. “You’re the first to say that.

”“Is that a bad thing?” You asked, because really, you had just insulted her work, and she seemed happy about it.

“It’s refreshing,” she said, and she regarded the dress. “And you’re right. It is ugly. I made it so on purpose.”

This just made you more confused. “I’m sorry? Why would you do that?”

She gave you a kind smile, and you felt yourself warm in response. Ava Centuria really was striking, it looked like she had been moulded by the gods. She was the kind of beautiful that poets wrote about. “Like I said, it’s a social experiment.”

You smiled at that, thinking of the Doctor. You would have to show her this, she loves a good experiment. “What are you experimenting?”

“People,” she said, and she brushed her arm over your elbow, guiding you with her to look around the room. Her touch was warm, and you found that you didn’t mind her touching you at all.

“I find it terribly interesting,” she said, her voice low and soft in your ear. She was so completely close – you could smell her perfume, which was sweet, like a warm Spring breeze. “That something could be completely mundane, or even downright awful, but, if you give it prestige, suddenly everyone completely and utterly adores it,” when she turned to look at you again, her eyes sparkled. “It is why I appreciate you, you are honest. It is not something I am accustomed to.”

It was a sobering statement. “That seems like a lonely way to live.”

Her expression faltered, her wry grin falling into a small, sad, smile. “It can be” she gave you a knowing look. “Sometimes, though, I am lucky enough to find someone who can make the days just a little bit brighter.”

You thought about the Doctor, who lied so often, and kept so many secrets. Was she lonely too? Even with the fam, even with you with her? Did you help make her days brighter?

“I’m terribly sorry,” she said after a moment, recatching your attention. “But I didn’t seem to catch your name.”

You noticed she had still not let go of your arm, and was caressing you slightly with her thumb.

You chuckled. “I never gave it.”

“Surely then you must share it.”

You told her your name and she smiled. “Ah. Y/N. It is fitting. It is a beautiful name for an equally beautiful person.”

You felt your eyes widen and your ears tense. Had she just-

“I am an artist,” she continued. “I know these things.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot. It wasn’t often people as gorgeous as Ava Centuria just casually flirted with you.

She stuck out her other hand. “I am Ava, by the way.”

It was such a bizarre turn of events that it startled a laugh out of you. You took her hand. “I know who you are, Ms Centuria.”

“Ava,” she repeated. “And, I know. But I felt it was important for a formal introduction, especially when one considers what I am about to ask you.”

You paused at that. Ask what?

“I would like to give you a tour,” she said. “A personal one, just for you. I would very much like to hear your thoughts on my collection and…” her movement on your arm faltered. “I would very much like to get to know you better, if you would let me.”

Under the lighting, Ava’s hair seemed to glow, like a halo of light was wrapped around it. She looked ethereal, and you couldn’t believ that she had just –

Oh gosh, Ava Centuria had just asked you on a date. Now. As in, immediately.

“Oh Y/N,” a familiar voice called out. “There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

You turned to see the Doctor strolling up, her neon blue coat billowing behind her. She… there was no other word for it, she looked awkward. Her hands were balled into fists, and she was giving you a strained smile. Behind her, across the other side of the room, stood Yaz and Ryan. Yaz was giving you an incredulous look, as if you had just taken the last cake from a tray, and Ryan, Ryan looked like he was about to whoop into the air, or shake you.

You had no idea how to interpret either of those looks.

“Doctor,’ you said and her smile softened as she met your gaze.

You turned back to Ava, sure that you had flushed, and untangled yourself from her grasp. The Doctor was beside you - and when had she appeared? She wrapped her arm around your frame, pulling you in to your side. "You must be Ava Centuri?" She said, but her smile seemed too wide, too forced. "Oh I'm a big fan!"

Ava stiffened. “Well,” she said, and her voice was distant. “It appears I am at a disadvantage, Y/N has not told me about you.”

“Oh! Well that’s surprising, I’m Y/N’s number one. We’re very, very close, Y/N and I,” her other hand fell across your arm, the spot where Ava had just been holding you. “We’re two peas in a pod, birds of a feather, made from the same cloth, you could say. Oh, a match made in heaven! Like Bonnie and Clyde,” she scrunched up her face. “No wait, not them, They died.”

“They also killed a lot of people,” you added. “Which wasn’t great.”

“That to,” The Doctor said, nodding to you like it was the most serious conversation you had ever had. She turned back towards Ava. “I’m the Doctor.”

“Well met Doctor,” Ava said, and she seemed to genuinely mean it. “I’m quite sorry though, you see, Y/N and I were-”

“Oh yeah!” The Doctor said. “I’m terribly sorry,” She squeezed your shoulder again, and it looked like the Doctor wasn’t sorry at all. “But we have to be off. We’ve got loads of things to meet, people to see, and places to do,” she scrunched up her face again. “No, wait, that’s the wrong order.”

“Things to do, people to meet, and places to see,” you supplied.

The Doctor grinned at you, utterly delighted. You felt a swell of pride in your stomach, you loved that you were the cause of that smile.

“Ah,” something seemed to dawn on Ava, and she looked in between you and The Doctor. Her eyes lingered on the Doctor’s arm, which was still securely wrapped around your waist. That small, sad smile from earlier returned. “I, I do believe I understand,” she turned to the Doctor. “You have found an angel among mortals, be sure you remember that.”

The Doctor audibly swallowed, and her grip on you faltered, for a moment. “I – uh, yeah. You’re right. Completely right, actually. Always knew you were clever.”

She nodded. “Good,” she turned to you. “And dear Y/N, if you ever find yourself wanting to entertain the whims of a lonely artist, I really would consider myself so very lucky.”

You didn’t know what to say.

She took your hand, and placed a delicate kiss on your knuckles, a part of you felt your arm tingle at the contact. “I best not keep you then. It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N. Doctor.” She gave the Doctor a consolatory nod, and left.

“Huh,” The Doctor said. “She was… I’m not sure I liked her as much as I thought I would.”

You hummed, not necessarily agreeing, but not really knowing what to say. You watched Ava walk away with a small frown. You hoped she was okay, she had been kind. She deserved kindness.

She wasn’t someone who your heart could belong to.

You turned to the Doctor. “So, what’s up? Is everything okay?”

The Doctor paused, her face falling. It was almost as if you could see the cogs turning in her brain, but you couldn’t work out why she was thinking so hard. “I think Graham’s gotten lost,” The Doctor said suddenly. “So I think it’s high time we find him and get out of here, what’d you say?”

You nodded, and, still holding you, The Doctor and you began walking out the room. You found your friends gathered outside the TARDIS, in fact, neither you or the Doctor had even paused to find Graham. You assumed Yaz and Ryan had done so, when you and the Doctor were talking to Ava.

On the way in, you noticed how the neon everyone was wearing glowed under the crystals. The Doctor was gorgeous in a way you couldn’t describe. She was here, present, by your side. It was so tangible, suddenly.

You had never noticed before, the way her hair softly fell around her face. She had bright neon stripes of green in it, and you wondered, absentmindedly, when she had had them done. The chain from her earring glinted in the soft light, the stars along the chain glittering.

In a soft voice, you asked. “Why the neon, do you think?”

“I dunno,” she said, and she shut the door behind Ryan, the last to enter the TARDIS. He was giving you a funny look, and you chose to ignore him. You chose to ignore Graham and Yaz too, for good measure. You would get embarrassed and fluder, you could already feel it.

“Sometimes,” the Doctor said, after a moment, and she looked around the room. “When you can’t find any brightness, you wonderful humans chose to create it instead. Even in the darkest of times.”

“Us humans?” You smiled, and you took a chance, maybe this time, just once, the Doctor could be honest. “What do you do then, Doc?”

“I don’t need to create it,” she said, her gaze wholly focused on you. “I’ve found it.”

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. That… The Doctor couldn’t possibly mean what you thought she meant. But she looked at you so intently, as if you were her entire universe. Her gaze flickered across your face, across the neon yellow flowers Yaz had painted on your cheeks, across your nose, and on your lips.

She leaned in, or maybe it was you, and she as so close now.

The sound of a loud cheer shattered the spell. You jumped back in shock.

“Finally!” Ryan cried, all the way from across the console.

You looked up to see Ryan, Graham, and Yaz standing off to the side, watching you like a collection of hawks. Graham and Yaz turned to Ryan in astonishment. Yaz elbowed Ryan and he doubled over. She tugged on his ear and whispered harshly.

The Doctor grinned when she spoke. “I can hear you, y’know.”

You, however, could not.

“Is it true?” She asked them, and you desperately wished you could have heard.

Graham gave you both a look, one which said ‘sort it out yourselves’.

The Doctor turned back to you. “I think you and I need to have a talk, later, when there’s no one else around?”

She looked vulnerable, her eyes wide and pleading, as if you hadn’t been just about to kiss her.

You nodded, giving her a small, warm smile. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

#the doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor #Doctor Who #DW #not edited because I wrote and posted this on the exact same day #I even wrote this during a meetting #and instead of doing an assignment due two days away #lots of love xoxoxo

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phantoms-lair · 3 years

Text

Mystery March 10: Mistake/ Uncommon Ancestry 13b

“Before you ask, Izuku doesn’t know about our prior conversion, and I’d prefer he didn’t find out.”

Iida felt a knot in his stomach untie. The thought that Midoriya had known everything and had been pretending otherwise since Hosu left a bad taste in his mouth; he was glad it wasn’t the case. “May I ask why?”

Lewis nodded. “Vivi and Arthur are Guardian Spirits. I act as one, but that’s not my true nature. I’m a wraith.”

Iida’s eyes narrowed in thought. “At the camp that’s what Mori-san called me. A ‘Baby Wraith’.”

“Shiro loves stirring the pot, but she’s not entirely wrong. I don’t know how you were before Stain, but when I first saw you you certainly had the feel of a wraith to you. And that hasn’t changed.”

“What does that mean?” Iida asked.

“To be honest, I don’t know. I always thought of wraiths as just another kind of ghost, so this is a learning experience.” Lewis led him into a gallery of paintings.

“These are our memories. Preserved so if our minds twist them, we’ll have a true reference.” He gestured to a dark frame decorated with twisted vines. “This one is mine.”

Iida looked at it and found himself within the memory itself. Of driving to a cave, of exploring it before suddenly being pushed to his death while his best friend, Arthur-san?!?!, smiled at his falling form.

Iida experienced awaking in rage. Of trying to make things right, first by attempting to burn the traitor in the very mansion they were standing in, then causing his van to crash, and finally throwing him off the very same cliff he’d killed Lewis on.

The vision ended, leaving Iida back at the mansion.

“Tell me, Iiida-kun, were my actions just?” Lewis asked in a somber tone.

“Of course they were!” Iida snapped. “The man is unforgivable. How could you allow him to be near your family? My classmates?”

“Another perspective,”

Iida found himself guided to a cherrywood frame shaped like nine woven threads. “I don’t care what he had to-”

“Not his, Mystery’s.” was all Lewis said, and suddenly Iida found himself in the cave again.

It was different this time. Through the memory of a kitsune Iida was able to experience things no normal human could. He could see the malevolence in the cave. He saw it grab Arthur through his arm, saw Arthur’s very soul fight and lose and the demon (what else could it be?) murder Lewis-san. And as Mystery, he knew there was only one way to save him.

Iida perceived himself growing and charging forward, when he was blessedly removed from the memory.

Arthur-ojiisan wouldn’t react well to Shinsou-kun’s quirk He vaguely remembered Midoriy saying, at the Sports Festival that felt like a lifetime ago. And maybe it was, as it was before he’d become a wraith.

“This is Arthur’s,” was the only warning Iida got before the beechwood frame carved into intricate gears dissolved into a hospital.

One of Arthur-san’s arms had always been different, and now Iida knew why. He watched him wake up short a limb, but still focusing to almost the exclusion of all else on his missing friend, whom he didn’t remember was dead.

He watched him forgo his recovery time to begin a search and watched Vivi-san be the only thing to keep him from doing even more damage to himself.

He saw him find the mansion and escape, though not without the force of the explosion slamming him into the van, never realizing he had achieved his goal.

He watched him flee from the haunted truck and go through the windshield when it crashed. He wanted to scream as he watched Lewis-san let him fall a second time.

And he nearly cried with relief when he saw Arthur-san land safely.

He saw the wounds between the three heal, saw them reassure the fourth who had all but forgotten how to be himself and the reconciliation with his daughter. He saw the three make an eternal vow to each other, watching Arthur hold his own daughter in his arms for the first time. It felt good. It felt right.

Then he noticed as the memories went further, Arthur seemed to get weaker, ending with him collapsing.

Untreated organ damage the doctor said and Iida saw flashbacks to the explosion that threw him into the van, the car crash that sent him through a window, and the fall off the cliff that stopped suddenly. We’ll do everything we can, but it might be a good idea to get your affairs in order.

In the end Arthur didn’t even look like Arthur, but rather like a blond skeleton, strapped to a hospital bed with the constant *beep* *beep* of the heart monitor.

Lewis-san and Mystery were the same. Vivi-san was older, as was their daughter, who’s hair was a different shade of green, but had the round face he recognized in Midoriya-kun and his mother.

There was something wrong with the memory. The field of vision was darkening and color seemed to be slowly draining from it.

Daddy? He heard the little girl ask as the vision turned dark and all he could hear was the heart monitor’s final *beeeeeeeeeeeeep*

A heavy hand on his shoulder broke the spell. Iida clasped his hands to his mouth to keep from screaming and felt tears he hadn’t realized he was shedding run down his face.

“I ask you again Iida-kun. Were my actions just?”

It was a long while before Iida could answer. “How do you live with it?” he finally asked.

“I don’t.” Lewis said simply. “And unlike my husband, that’s not a comment on my status of being. I remained in this world because that’s what the two I hurt the most wanted. I don’t deserve their love, but they still give it freely, and I’m not cruel enough to reject it for the sake of my own self punishment. The guilt and the shame? It’s been there every day since Arthur got his diagnosis. He tried to keep it from me, he didn’t want me to blame myself.” Lewis shook his head. “It will never go away. I will feel it for the rest of my existence.”

“You’re a wraith, Iida Tenya. Would that I could change it, but I can’t. But at least I could do the one thing in my power. Stop you from making the same mistake I did.”

Iida’s mouth opened and closed a few times. There was so much he wanted to say, so much of it condemning the man, the killer, in front of him. But the words that finally edged out were ‘Thank you.’

Lewis nodded his acknowledgment. “We should get to the kitchen. I did promise snacks for your friends, and you don’t lie to Vivi about snacks.”

His tone was light, but Iida could feel the lodestone that weighed on the ghost’s soul. “Uraraka-kun as well.” He agreed.

He was a wraith (somehow), but he was a cold wraith. He would never burn an innocent. And it was only because of this man he didn’t go down the path of inferno that would only have led to the instruction of him and his loved ones

If one had asked him, even earlier this very evening, if a killer could be forgiven, Iida would have said no. But Arthur-san had forgiven Lewis-san and Iida himself could bear him no ill will.

He would learn from Lewis-san and never make that mistake, nor be tempted by it again.

#Ghost Writing #BNHA #MSA #Mystery Skulls Animated #MysteryMarch2021 #Uncommon Ancestry #TW: Character Death

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the-anxious-gay-drummer · 3 years

Text

Agnes' JatP fics masterpost

Thought I might as well clump together all the thingies I wrote for this fandom so far.

*all fics that are not marked otherwise are completed

UPDATED: 16 March 2021

ASHES WE ARE AND FROM ASHES WE RISE

Bobby/Alex/Luke/Reggie

4.8k words

Supernatural elements, polyamory, love confessions, angst with happy ending

Mom catches him after sundown, copper bowls laden with candles and fruit and herbs clutched to his chest and steers him back inside the house with a firm hand on his shoulder. She doesn’t yell and she doesn’t lecture and Bobby asks her, “How did you know?”

“Because,” she tells him, putting away the bowls, “death is also lonely.” She turns to face him, draped into the sunset colors slipping in through the window, her eyes dark and strong, and says, “You need to learn to put things to rest.”

BOBBY'S SEXUALITY CRISIS SUMMER

Bobby/Reggie

3.8k words

Coming out, fluff and humor (attempted?)

The tank top is black, Reggie's skin is pale, shoulders and face pinked from the Sun. And his arms are not as scrawny as Bobby remembers them being. He blames tingly, tight feeling in his chest on the fact that Alex is a drummer and Luke has been prancing around in his cutoffs since they hit puberty and Bobby had to ask Carrie to open his peanut butter jar yesterday because he couldn't do it.

GENTLE HAUNTING

Willie/Alex

2.6k words

5+1, near death experiences, happy ending

As he loses his balance, there’s a dull noise of wheels rolling over the sidewalk and in his periphery, a splash of bright colors- yellows and blues and reds and greens- so vibrant that, for a moment, Alex forgets that he’s falling.

AKA "Five times Alex sees Willie while he's alive and one time they finally meet as ghosts"

KISSING THE LIGHTS

Willie/Alex

1.1k words

Fluff, kissing

“What are you doing?” He asks quietly, not wanting to disrupt the soft, quiet atmosphere. He feels too lazy to open his eyes.

“Nothing,” Willie whispers in response, voice tilting like he’s smiling. “I’m just watching.”

1k of pure fluff and soft ghost boyfriends

COLORS BURST AS I CLOSE MY EYES

Willie/Alex

1k words

Fluff and angst, boys kissing, implied/referenced homophobia, cemetery

If Willie finds it strange that he’s lying on his own grave- his body six feet below him, rotten along with the coffin and reclaimed by the earth- he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “Hey, Hotdog,” and gets down on his knees near Alex’s shoulder. His hair is spilling down around his face in soft waves and looking at him feels like looking at an old photograph, bleached into golds and browns and bronzes by the light.

PEANUT GALLERY

Willie/Alex

800 words

Fluff, Christmas fic, movie night, outsider POV

He turns to his right, hoping to commiserate with Alex, who now has a hot boyfriend and thus is assumably over his teenage movie crush- and then he freezes, mid-chew.

NO ONE LEAVES HOME

Alex & Bobby

1.3k words

Angst and fluff, friendship, implied/referenced homophobia

He strides to Bobby’s car with purpose and drops his backpack on the floor of the passenger seat before asking, “How do you feel about skipping the first period?”

Bobby, who was sucking on a mint until now, bites down on it. Alex hears it crunch as Bobby’s eyebrows shoot up. “Okay,” he says despite his surprise.

I needed some Alex&Bobby friendship. So.

ANGELS CAN FLY INTO THE SUN

Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters

1.5k words

Cathartic blasphemy, religious imagery & symbolism, implied/referenced homophobia

Luke won’t tell him where they’re going, but eventually, the streets morph into a familiar path, down past his parents’ house that stands unchanged despite everything, and then Bobby is parking them in front of Alex’s old church.

EXISTENCE SLIPPED LIKE SAND THROUGH OUR HANDS (BUT NOT ANYMORE)

Willie/Alex

2k words

Fluff, kissing in the rain

“Hm, looks like it’s going to rain,” Willie comments, head tipped back. Everything around them is colored in monochrome; reality is a far-away, unimportant concept, all the edges blurred and softened. It’s a good day to be content and in love, Alex thinks, touching the tips of his fingers to his breastbone.

YEARS I SPENT ON THE EDGE OF DISAPPEARANCE

Willie/Alex

SPN & JatP crossover

53k words

WIP (work in progress)

Alex spent 4 years living in Los Angeles (during which he met only the best people ever and found his passion for music) so his oldest brother and father could check up on his other brother (which is a healthy way of saying "stalking him"). When everything goes downhill and he's forced to move away with his family, he runs away to pursue his dream.

And then he fucking dies. Which would actually be a minor hitch in their plans- if Dean could just stop investigating his death.

I think it's safe to say SPN crossovers are my writing niche now, and I'm absolutely obsessed with JATP and Alex rn. So. This is what I have to offer to you guys.

#my writing #jatp fic #jatp #willex #willex fic #boggie #boggie fic #bobby x reggie #alex x willie #julie and the phantoms #sunset curve #sunset curve ot4 #bobby x alex x luke x reggie

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Ducktales Final Four!: The Lost Cargo of Kit Cloudkicker!

Hello You Happy People. SPIN IT! OHOHOHOHOHOHO LETS’ BEGIN IT!

After 10,000 years we’re finally at the motherducking Talespin episode! And only 8000 of those years were the last 14 months as Ducktales 2017 has been working toward this for a while with Cape Suzette being prominently mentioned in both the first episode and the season 1 finale, and Don Karnage being a regular part of the rouges gallery, voiced by the wonderous Jamie Camil. So this episode was less a matter of “If”, since Don’s presence meant Disney wasn’t really against it happening, and more a matter of “When and How.” The how, to a point was settled at the big NYCC panel for Ducktales that revealed Daisy and Goofy... as it also revealed aged up versions of Kit and Molly, meaning a proper tailspin episode was on the way. I could not have been more pumped. While I didn’t remember the cartoon well, i’d always loved Talespin since I was a kid and as an adult my curosity only grew. Still need to watch way more of it mind you, I really have slept on most of the Disney Plus Libarary and that’s dumb of me, but what i’ve seen is impressive. The story of an irresponsible bear forced to work with a buisnesswoman bear after she buys his seaplane, his loveable kid sidekick and said buisness bear’s daughter whose cute as a button but suprisingly tolerable for a little kid character. Opposing them were masterful buisnessman Shere Kahn, who sadly does not show up here and could be friend , foe or neutral depending on the episode, and Don Karnage, a kooky sky pirate who as mentioned is already in this series and was Balloo’s arch enemy. The series was colorful, creative, had a great premise and cast and in general was just awesome and out of the Disney Afternoon shows is honestly my faviorite, though Darkwing is getting close. I even recently finally got the Shere Kahn funko, which is starring into my soul as I type this review! Hurrah!

So I waited impatiently like I did for Daisy and Goofy, both also things I’d wanted in the series since the start. Thing was.. Goofy showed up in the second episode of the season, that was part of the premiere, and while the wait for Daisy was agonizing, she still showed up pretty early into the season at episode five. Gosalyn showed up at episode 12. This is episode 20.

I do get it: This season was built to be the last just in case.. and ended up being the last so good job there. There was a LOT to wrap up in one season and on top of that they had a double and TRIPLE length episode taking up 5 episodes of the season, AND two holiday episodes. So that gave them only 18 normal episodes they had to place very carefully. So likely, given that they had some episodes important to the finale that couldn’t wait for the last minute in “The First Adventure” and “The Battle for Castle McDuck!”, as I highly doubt pepper was given such a build up to not be important in the finale, still think she’s webby’s mom, we’ll see soon enough. And New Gods on the Block, while not as important was probably not swapped with this one because they wanted a lighter episode after three plot important episodes in a row, two of which are fairly intense and had lasting consequences and one of which, while a bit of a breather, was still indulging in the new FOWL status quo. This one ended up crammed into the last block.. because they likely really wanted to do this one, wanted it to tie into FOWL... and had nowhere else to put it, with Life and Crimes likely serving as one last break from FOWL, if it doesn’t end up tying into it, before the finale movie. Doesn’t make waiting forever for it any less grating, but hey it’s finally here. So how was it? Was it worth the hype? And how do the Wuzzles factor into this? Join me under the cut and spin it with me to find out and count down to 3!

So we open with an adult Kid Cloudkicker at work, voiced by Adam Pally!

If you haven’t heard of him, and one of my Patreons had not, he was on Happy Endings and the Mindy Project, and has a very distinct voice and is very funny, so it was a pleasant surprise to have him pop up here as Kit and given aforementioned roles were messes in some way shape or form, especially Max from happy endings whose essentially Oscar the Grouch, just as gay only not living in a trash can. Though if he had to he would.

Since he was a kid KIt’s picked up the old family business, and is now running hire for hire.. and has also picked up his Dad’s old enemies as Don Karnage chases after Kit, his second greatest nemesis, who freely mocks him. It’s a lovely sequence but shows Kit isn’t the best pilot, and his fancy flying, while beating Don, also opens both crates, freeing the livestock he’s carrying.. and the other cargo, a mysterious stone that was in a F.O.W.L. crate that merges the chicken with a goat, and scares kit, and he ends up causing his cargo to drop out of the plane. Cue titles.

Back with our heroes for this series, Della is recroding Dewey as he flies solo the first time!

That is so precious. Huey is along for the ride and is taking having his reckless brother with the attention span of a coked up ferret at the helm exactly how you’d expect.

Of course his helmet says safety boy and of course he has a helmet on over his hat. Awww. Dewey, while good at it, he’s a 12 year old flying a rather sizeable plane with no difficulty that’s pretty impressive.. he’s also Dewey so just flying a plane normally isn’t enough and he wants to Dewey it instead and do all the fancy stuff. He wants to be special as is usual for him, not realizing this is how you get to being good as his mom or Launchpad. And he’s 12 so that makes sense just on the basic level.. but it also makes sense on a comparison level: Dewey’s done a LOT of impressive stuff over the course of the series: rattling it off because why not, and this is just things he acomplished himself: he found the Lost Jewel of Atlantis (Getting it home was still a team effort but he is the one who identified it), is a golf pro better than his uncle whose played the game for centuries at this point, defeated Don Karnage in a sword fight with little to no sword training, was crucial in beating Magica during the Shadow War, travled through time, by accident or not, consulted on a major motion picture, defeated a Gandra, even if she was going easy on him, BLIND, and biggest of all defeated the World Serpent Jormunngandr, by himself, a GOD that’s fought Scrooge evenly for decades. AND FINISHED HIM WITH A PILEDRIVER. To reitirate this was ONLY the stuff he did himself. So I get why he’d think just flying a plane when his mom and best friend have done so much more with it is boring and that being a pilot when two people he looks up to are already one is just.. boring. I’ts not special or unique and given his family name is built on the two, I can see why he’d chafe under this.

Della for her part isn’t doing things wrong entirely, she wants him to start with the basics, the fact he can DO those basics at such a young age with minimal training shows he has a true knack for it, and it takes experince to pull off death defying stunts. The First Adventure backs this up as while Della was so talented as a kid she could land a plane herself.. that was all she did. And it’s still incredibly impressive a ten year old landed a seaplane with no real world training or hours in a full on flight simulator. The issue that’s never really adressed is while she’s mostly doing it right she dosen’t get that despite his talent, Dewey just dosen’t find this INTRESTING or get how impressive he is, and that dressing it up a bit migh’tve helped. It’s an understandable mistake though, teaching someone something in any context is hard. It’s one of many, MANY reasons like currently horribly hazzarodus conditions, long hours, having to buy their own suplies at times, that teachers are badly underpayed.

Before we get into why their headed to Cape Suzette at long last, there is one notiacble absence in this episode I can’t really ignore: Launchpad. While he has been absent in every episode since Let’s Get Dangerous, not counting “How Santa Stole Christmas!” as the two holiday episodes were made to fit in anywhere story wise and timeline and production wise take place before the rest of Season 3 , which takes place during Spring given both the March note on Boyd and Huey’s photos in Astro BOYD, and Forbidden Fountain taking place during spring break. At most it’s currently running into Summer. I put too much thought into this with someone i’ve lost contact with.

My point, I had one trust me, is that Launchpad has just been gone for the second half of the season . And up till now it wasn’t necesarily a bad thing: He was a major part of Let’s Get Dangerous and wasn’t really needed for any of the episodes so far: The Manor side of things in ImpossiBin was purposfully intense and while he would’ve had some thoughts on Beakly’s actions, it just worked better with him gone and the only other adult in the house at the moment busy doing other stuff for their protection till the climax. Split Sword was kid focused, New Gods didn’t really involve him at all, though I am sad he and Storkules never met as far as I can tell, The First Adventure was a flashback, Fight for CastleMcDuck was about the family unit more, and Beaks in the Shell is the only one so far I think he could’ve been included in at all and again shoving him in would’ve just cluttered things up. Like a lot of character ballance issues of the series, there’s a good enough reason.. this is just the one exception in the last batch I think would’ve been improved by having him. He’s Dewey’s best friend, he’s been there for him, he would’ve been a good counterpoint as a teacher and it could’ve been intersting having both he and della have constrasting styles but valuable things to teach and I would’ve loved to see him interact with Kit. It also just feels really weird to be down a pilot in the episode about the franchise about a pilot. \

The fact Dewey ends up crashing while landing after Huey applauds him on his safe normal landing, which ticks him off because he dosen’t want to be normal, hammers in it in a bit as he missed his buddy’s first crash. I get leaving him out as Kit is just as irresponsible and the episodes just as much about Kit if not more so as it is about Dewey, so I understand it but it dosne’t make it feel like any less of a lost opportunity.

As for why their in the cape at last, it’s unsuprsingly another missing mystery, the stone of what is which can combine two things, the stone seen in the intro. Kit loosing it turns out to be a good thing as it meant FOWL didn’t get it, and they can find it, and are in town to find him. They pass the hire for hire offices which have a ton of notices on the door, and Dewey is entranced by the idea of cloud kicking, aka sky surfing, aka that thing kit did in the original. We also get to see updated versions of Baloo, Kit and Molly. Sadly no Rebecca. Can’t win em all.

Our trio find Kit whose asleep, clearly having no customers and trying to pass it off like he does. It turns out he knows Della, as they went to flight school together, though she only vaugely remembers him at best. She does remember Molly though, wouldn’t be suprised if that’s another ex of hers either, and wonders what happen to her.. and not just because htere’s always room in Della’s harem. Kit dodges.. and it’s likely in large part because it’s clear to anyone looking despite his statments he’s kinda stalled as an adult. It’s very clear from his surroudings, him being a pilot for hire, and him eagerly taking Dewey on as a sidekick when Dewey shows intresting in Cloud Kicking, that he’s trying to be Baloo. This idea was, according to Frank, the brainchild of the episode’s director, and one of it’s writers and storyboarders, Tanner Johnson. Tanner pitched “What if Kit never outgrew his Baloo fanboying?”.

It’s an intresting idea: while it is sad we don’t get to see the old boy at any point and I do wonder where he is now and what he’s up to in his retirment, probably just flying about free as a bird would be my guess given how he never liked working to begin with, I applaud them for doing something unique with the Tailspin cast that fits into the themes of the season rather than just have them show up. By making it Kit instead of Baloo cargoing them, it gives us more of an arc to work with character wise as Kit has become so obessed with becoming his dad, he never stopped to consider if he was even good at it or enjoyed it.

Using Della is part of what makes this work as she too grew up with a larger than life mentor and adopted dad.. but unlike Kit, she grew up a bit and saw the flaws in her dad. His greed, his selfishness, his tendency to hog the glory, his ego.. she stopped putting him on a pedestal. She still loves him, still wants his respect and admiration to this day, but she gets he’s not perfect and not who she wants to be. Kit clearly never got this message. He never grew out of putting Baloo on a pedsteal and wanting ot literally be him instead of his own man. So he ignored the many flaws in how Baloo lived: Baloo started Talespin having lost his plane because he was so obessed with freedom and doing what he wanted, he didn’t bother actually paying on it and chafed under actually doing work half the time. He’s talented, fun to be around and a hell of pilot bar none, he honestly outclasses Della, but he was entirely irresponsible. Kit’s found himself in the same position Baloo was in: living alone, having not a lot going on, and on the verge of loosing his plane. Not only that he’s worse off because Baloo at least, while lazy, had enough talent. Kit.. isn’t a good pilot as we’ve seen and will see again, and clearly not only dosen’t have a knack for it, but is only doing it because Baloo did. He’s so obsessed with being who he THINKS baloo would want him to be, he never stopped to think that the actual Baloo would just want him to be happy and has probably told him this, or was probably too proud of what Kit was doing to realize what he was doing to his life.

But Della dosen’t have time to get him a therapist, they need to find that stone before FOWL, and Kit offers to take them.. if they hire him. Della scoffs at this and insults the Sea Duck

Yeah Della your fantastic.. but you do NOT insult the Sea Duck and your very, VERY lucky it’s not Baloo you were dealing with as he would’ve turned you down out of principal. The Sea Duck is fucking awesome, and a national treasure. Thankfully Kit instead points out the Sunchaser isn’t in a better place after Dewey Dewed what he dew, so they really don’t have a choice.

Della does draw the line at letting Kit fly as she eventually realizes he’s not good at this, mostly letting Crowby his crowbar do all the work, and finds he has a map to where he dropped the stone, so he dosen’t even have that leg to stand on and throws him out of his own cockpit before he gets them all killed. Okay that time on her side. Kit takes this time to try and train Dewey on cloudkicking... but despite being encaustic at the idea of it the reality leaves Dewford scared shitless.. and doubles up on bad things as Don Karnage and his crew are closing in on the island. FOWL hired them to get it for them, though why FOWL didn’t do so themselves I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong i’m happy to have Jamie back and it really wouldn’t feel right ot have a Tailspin ep without Don Karnage, I just find it odd Bradford would hire outside contractors for this given he has a full staff and not at least send Heron or Steelbeak along to supervise. Regardless, Don puts pleasure before buisness spotting Kit.. and fully commits after finding out Dewey is ALSO involved. I also find it hilarous DEWEY outranks Kit on Don Karnage’s enemy list. So naturally he goes after him, int he personal plane he used in the series which also showed up in the cold open, and with Dewey not having the skill to take Don on, Kit is forced ot step in. He also calls him “Little briches” which while another sign of how much he wants to be his own dad.. is still too awesome not to apricate. Don cuts the line but thanks to Kit’s fancy footwork, they make it out alive and wash up on an island. Della soon joins them, thanks kit for saving her kid then rightfully slaps him for putting him in danger in the first place. Dewey also has to stop her from punching him when he explains he had no idea the stone ended up on this island, which granted she is justified in but Dewey , of all people, rightly saw this means they don’t have to drag a unconcious bear around who probably hasn’t showered in a while. I mean the smell will be there either way but there’s less chance of accidnetlly inhaling too much while he’s conconcious. They also find out what the Stone’s been doing: combining the wildlife leading to rhino monkey hybrid trying to murder them. So at the last minute Frank also squeezed in another disney aftenroon show but one tha’ts not streaming and most don’t care about: the wuzzles, a bunch of hybrids of various animals... Frank couldn’t do much with that as is and just decided to rightfully play it for horror.

Our heroes find Don, whose found the stone.. and is simply throwing most of hi crew at it rather than doing anything productive, with them turning into just.. utterly horrifying combinations. Hands for heads and everything, bug legs, a non-anthro parrot head. it’s pretty tough to watch and I question why the episode did this as Don’s crew did not deserve this and this episode is mostly lightearted before and after this. A tailspin tribute episode episode should not pair well with the song no spill blood.. seroiusly you paid for all I do is win, and rightfully but you couldn’t get this?

youtube

Regardless the kids and manchild are told to stay put while the slightly more functional womanchild takes care of Don. Dewey and Kit naturally don’t, which is fair: what did della expect, the sugared up rabbit in a small duck’s body and the incompitent but charming manchild she’s insulted repedadtly to listen? Naturally they both beef it as Dewey can’t board and while Kit does get Don’s plane, he ends up crashing it instead of doing anything productive. I mean even Launchpad would’ve at least got back to the seaduck.. he would’ve crashed into it but still. Look when you make Launchpad look compietnet you really need to rethink your life. Della has bigger problems though as it turns out the thing they were on.. was a coocoon.. for a butterbear. Oh no. Thankfully this goes better than you’d expect as she’s able to ride the thing and it tangles up some rope, taking the stone of what was with it and Don takes off after it with what pirates he has left.

Our remaining heros return to the Sea Duck. Dewey and Kit plan to do the same thing again and expect diffrent results but Huey.. has some words for them.

He’s fed up with this and points out they need to swap jobs. Dewey CAN fly, and Kit really is good at cloudkicking, it’s in the name, and he needs to return to it. While Dewey balks again stating anyone can be a pilot.. Kit finally admits that’s not true and he’s just not good at it and Huey finally snaps them out o fthier neurosis, Kit a bit late but better late than never given the state of his life, and points out the episode’s aseop: YOU make something special just by doing what you like to do and are good at well. I’ts been hard making these reviews, but I feel i’m getting the hang at it and it’s what I was meant to do, I just had to find it. It’s not always easy to find your calling but when you got it, go for it instead of some version of you you think you should be. So we get pured distilled awesome for the climax. Besides Della again riding a bear that’s also a butterfly, Kit, also a bear I did not miss that gag, proceeds to finally spin it and begin again it as he tears through them with Crowby and easily deispatches the planes finally earning Della’s respect and finally back in his element, using his newfound size and strength combined with his still inherent acrobatics to easily take them out and land on Carnage’s plane and beat him.

So the day is saved: The stone lands on the plane and our heroes properly secure it. Della releases her bear fly but it’ll find it’s way home i’m sure... so majestic. Or it’ll eat all the world’s seagulls. Good news either way.

Back at the bay Kit packs up the stone safetly and gives them the bill. Which Della grumbles at but whiel he didn’t fly he did save their asses.. after endagenring them but still and does have a buisness to run. Plus he has to save his plane.

But it turns out someone’s already bought it. And you can probably guess who.

No not you sweetie.. though he is an investor for the person who DID buy it: Molly, whose taken being danger woman from a 4 year old’s play time to her career running an air stunt show. This is the other thing that cemented the whole aged up versions of these guys working for me: HIstory Repeating itself. Once again an enterprising young woman with a lot of ideas has bought the seaduck from it’s incompitent owner and hires the former owner to work for her. But things are warmer this time: Kit wasn’t happy doing what he was doing, and it’s clear unlike Rebecca, who just bought the first plane she could get and hired baloo because he was who she could afford, they became friends with time and patience if not more but that’s still vauge... Molly did this out of love. She knew Kit was struggling and probably has as many fond memories of the sea duck and baloo as he does and didn’t want someone else to get the old girl. Her air show seems to be going fine, she apparently has a full crew, fans and enough money to purchase another plane on a whim from the bank to expand the show.. she wanted her old plane back and her old brother back. And wheras again Rebecca offered Baloo the job because he wanted to keep his baby safe from some half assed pilot she could afford and she knew it and thus could manipulate him with that. Plus he worked cheap so there. Here Molly just admires her brothers skills and hires them on it and he’s frankly more comfortable being a sidekick than the main star anyway.

He TRIES to brush it off but gladly accepts. God another possible spinoff.. please make this Disney.. and if not at least Reboot tailspin I miss it. Still it’s a very satisfying ending. But what of Don Karnage? Well he’s lost everything as a result of this, unable to get back to his carrier, his crew mostly gone, and FOWL sure to be gunning for him. This is seemingly the end for him.. until he finds a chunk of the stone. “Or the start of an encore”. Wether this was a setup for a possible part of season 4, a possible spinoff or is going to come back in the finale.. we’re just going to have to wait and see won’t we?

Final Thoughts: I really liked this one. It’s not the best of the season: Kit’s arc is kinda telegraphed and Dewey’s arc while intresting isn’t focused on enough to really be that engaging. But the ideas at the core are solid and fit into the series well, the idea to age up our kid heroes from Talespin was really clever and paid off and as usual Adam Pally is a delight and as I said at the top was pitch perfect casting. Couldn’t figure out who played molly and the credits cut out on me, so let mek now if you do but yeah I enjoyed this one> It wasn’t the series at it’s best but given the last two are liable to get pretty intense it was a nice breezy break. And it got me wanting to watch Talespin again and there’s nothing bad about that.

NEXT WEEK: In our penultimate adventure, Ducktales reinacts that one episode of Batman the Animated Series where all of Batman’s foes put him on Trial, as Scrooge’s Rogues put him on trial with Doofus as prosecuter and Louie for the defense. Well at least it’s not Lionel Hutz.

This Week: Lots of Ducks! The lena retrospective continues as we take a detour for some comix, and we begin the Della arc as we go back to the start. It’s finally time to talk about Woo-Ooo!.

If any of this sounds appealing follow my blog for more. If you like these reviews head over to my patreon, patreon.com/popculturebuffet, and become a patreon. At the 5 dollar level you get a review a month and even a dollar helps get to my stretch goals. I’m up to 15 a month so 20 is next and that means a darkwing duck review every month! And if you really like Talespin like I do, 25 nets you a tailspin review a month and a review of the pilot. Ohohohohohohoo. See you at the next rainbow.

#ducktales #talespin #the lost cargo of kit cloudkicker #della duck #dewey duck #kit cloudkicker #molly cunningham #danger woman #huey duck #don karnage #disney channel #the disney afternoon

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scotianostra · 3 years

Photo

John Barbour, the early Scottish poet, died on March 13th 1395.

Barbour was a Poet, churchman and scholar, probably born in Aberdeen, where he spent most his life and held the position of Archdeacon. He was granted passage to study at Oxford and Paris. Several poems have been attributed to Barbour, one of which, The Stewartis Originall, relates the fictitious pedigree of the Stewarts back to Banquo and his son Fleance, yes they were real characters and not just made up by Shakespeare!

His long patriotic poem The Brus, awarded a prize of 10 pounds by the King Robert II, is his most famous work. It supplies some facts of Robert the Bruce, many of which are told in anecdotal style and emphasises Bruce’s exploits in freeing Scotland from English rule. This poem is also where we can find the quotation “A! Fredome is a noble thing!”

Barbour’s The Brus (The Bruce) is considered to stand right at the beginning of Scots literature and history, since it is the oldest Scots manuscript still in existence. It is an epic poem which tells the bloody tale of King Robert the Bruce, Sir James of Douglas and Edward Bruce and their fight for Scottish independence from a ruthless Edward I of England who wanted Scotland (along with Wales and France) to become part of his kingdom. The poem includes a graphic depiction of the Battle of Bannockburn, and also relates the skulduggery and intrigue that surrounded Robert the Bruce in his accession to the Scottish throne. The language is essentially that of 14th century Scotland – which by my clock makes it over 600 years old. A lot can happen to a language in 600 years. Reading it now it’s difficult to get past the weird spellings, obscure words, twisted sentence structure, etc. But if you read it aloud (not recommended in libraries), or read it into yourself and try to hear the words as they are written, then you have won half the battle.

Here is an excerpt, and translation from The Brus

...and led thar lyff in gret travaill

and oft in hard stour off batail

lwan gret price off chevalry

and war voydyt off cowardy

as wes king robert off scotland

that hardy wes off hart and hand

and gud schir james off douglas

that in his tyme sa worthy was

that off hys price and hys bounte

in ser landis renownyt wes he

off thaim I thynk this buk to ma

now god gyff grace that I may swa

tret it and bryng till endyng

that I say nocht bot suthfast thing

translates roughly to Who led their life through great troubles,

Often in the hard struggles of battle,

And won the great prize of chivalry

And never knew what it was to be cowardly.

Such was King Robert of Scotland

Who was strong of heart and hand,

And good Sir James Douglas,

A worthy man in his time,

Who for his esteem and his generosity

Was famous in far off lands.

I make this book with them in mind.

Now God give me the grace that I may

Write it well and bring it to the end

Telling you nothing but the truth.

Imagine the world back then, to technology at all, the church was your main, if only, source of news, in the years after The Brus, the country was flushed with victory and to hear the stories of the struggles of their grandfathers, this poem sang the glories of freedom, and pictured the civic and knightly virtues of Bruce and Douglas. It's largely thanks to this work that we know s much about King Robert and The Good Sir James.

Barbour called it a romance, it is regarded as being in essential points a faithful history, and was so received by generations of readers. Walter Scott used it for the basis of several of his books and every book that has been written about this period of Scottish history since, has used The Brus as a basis of their research. Barbour spent much of his later life as a courtier to Robert II, who commisioned The Brus and The Stewartis Originall, although the latter is highly embellished to put the Stewarts in a much better light, Robert II being the first of their line would have been the source for Barbour to write the story. As well as the ten pound he received for writing The Brus, the King also granted Barbour a pension of a pound a year for the rest of his life. He went on to write a number of other poems, though most have been lost and the authorship of others is debated. The 33,000 line poem Legends of the Saints was probably written by him, as was as The Scots Buik of the most noble and vailyzeand Conqueror Alexander the Great.

Many view him as the father of Scots language poetry. As well as being in Robert II court, Barbour continued to fulfil his duties at St Machars' Cathedral until the early 1390s, and he died in Aberdeen in 1395, a plaque in the city remembers him.

The pictures include one of the two earliest surviving manuscripts of The Brus, it shows a description of the initial phases of the battle of Bannockburn. This is a copy made by John Ramsay, Prior of the Carthusian monks at Perth, made this copy of the poem in 1489 and is held at The National Library of Scotland. The link takes you to the NLS page with and interesting timeline and links to important documents held in their archives

https://digital.nls.uk/scotlandspages/1000-1500.html

The second pic is on the walls of The National Portrait gallery, a magnificent frieze of Scottish history, the aforementioned plaque, that can be found at Castle Street, Aberdeen, and finally the slap at the top of the mound fittingly marking the steps up to Makar's Court in Edinburgh's Old Town, the full stanza reads

A! Fredome is a noble thing! Fredome mays man to haiff liking. Fredome all solace to man giffis, He levys at es that frely levys!

It translates to

Freedom is a noble thing! Great happiness does freedom bring. All solace to a man it gives; He lives at ease that freely lives.

#Scotland #scottish #poet #robert the bruce #history #medieval history

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frodos-bizarre-adventure · 3 years

Text

@gingerreggg think i oughta make an ao3 of this?

Heads Up- Part 13 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"Morning, Jojo," Caesar said gently, planting a kiss on Joseph's forehead.

Joseph, still not opening his eyes, hummed faintly and gave a smile, hugging the base of Caesar's torso warmly.

"Hey...this is a nicer way to wake me up," he said with a laugh.

From the first days when Caesar sat on his bedside tabe screaming at him like some sort of glorified alarm clock, their morning routines had become far more gentle and affectionate as, bit by bit, Joseph's perception of Caesar changed.

It had been a rollercoaster of emotions since the bust first came screaming and bouncing his way into his life. From initial fear, to confusion, to fascination, to guilt, to understanding, to friendship to gentle affection.

They'd come a long way in just a few weeks being together.

Joseph stood up for breakfast, but before he left he gently lifted Caesar from his bed and gently laid him onto the floor where he was able to hop over to the kitchen. As much as Joseph wanted ro grant Caesar some independence, the fact remained that he was, after all, a living disembodied head with only the smallest piece of a torso, and no matter how much he tried there were some things he simply couldn't do.

It was a bit like having a roommate with special needs, and Joseph didn't mind giving him some assistance whenever he needed it-- though he was happy to let Caesar be when he was sure about things he could do on his own.

And Caesar was surprisingly adaptable, having lived with his unusual form for over a month now. His hopping on his neck was quite slow and clumsy as always, if now a lot more balanced, but the skill of his mouth manipulation had been astounding. Not only at painting and writing, but also in holding and using tools, operating the little lifts Joseph made to help him get up and down tables, or stacking the wooden blocks Suzi brought him into fun shapes and structures.

And, with persistent gnawing, licking and nose pressing, Caesar had learned how to, in his own awkward, bizarre way, figured out how to operate the remote of the TV, and spent quite a lot of his time bingeing soap operas, much to Joseph and Suzi's amusement.

"Morning, Suzi!" Joseph greeted, as he made his way to the kitchen. She'd woken up early and was stirring a cup of coffee, and she looked up and greeted the two in her usual cheery self.

"Morning Jojo!" she said with a smile. "Morning too, Caesar," she added, looking down at the hopping bust on the floor.

Her presence had been a near-constant in the past few days, though she did have a home a few blocks down the street. Joseph could tell she enjoyed staying with them, with the alternative having been mostly alone in her apartment with little to do now that she'd graduated.

Joseph could tell she was lonely. Especially since they previously hadn't spent much time together for a couple of years.

And now Caesar had brought them together.

Caesar hopped onto the platform and pulled at the rope with his teeth, lifting himself up onto the table. Suzi couldn't help but watch in awe-- it looked as if it took Caesar so much effort to move around, but he somehow just managed.

"It's honestly quite funny how you came to just accept all this," Caesar joked as he hopped onto the kitchen table. "You'd think that you'd take much longer to get used to me, a talking head of clay."

"Well, at first it was odd," Suzi replied.

Caesar laughed, remembering their first encounter. "You kept trying to grab me and touch me all over the first time we met."

"Well...you're just amazing," she told him.

"And getting to know you more? You're a really good person deep down," she added. "Sure, a little rough around the edges at times, maybe, but your determination, your personality, your warmth... you've added so much to me and Joseph's lives since you came."

Caesar smiled, a shy, flustered smile that would have had come with a blush if he hadn't been clay.

"Plus the way you get around is rather cute," she giggled. "You remind me of the lamp from those Pixar intros."

"Oh, don't you think I didn't get that," Caesar retorted playfully.

Joseph, in the meantime, had been making breakfast, mostly just coffee, canned beans, a boiled egg and some toast. Whipping up his meal the best as he could, him being in no way a talented chef, he piled the ingredients onto his plate and sat down onto the kitchen table.

Caesar looked wistfully at the plate. "If only I could enjoy that too." he said with a dry laugh.

Made of clay, Caesar never felt the need to eat, or drink, or even breathe. He wasn't quite sure what even sustained him every time he woke up in the morning.

At this point, it was easier to just say "magic".

"Alright, here you go," Joseph grinned. He dipped his finger into the sauce of the baked beans and held it out for Caesar to taste.

He stuck out his tongue and gently touched Joseph's finger with its tip.

"Hmmm...not bad," he said. He could taste and smell, despite not needing to eat or breathe, and exactly why, or how, was a question Caesar opted not to bother himself with.

Joseph smiled. Just the knowledge that Caesar was able to enjoy the little things in life brought him a sense of satisfied joy. Sure, there were some things that he was missing out on due to his nature as a living clay bust, but what mattered were the things that could make his dull existence just a bit brighter.

There were things he couldn't change, and realities he had to accept, but he knew Caesar could make do with whatever he did have.

Sometimes it was just better to submit to the winds than fight it, Joseph thought.

Submit.

That one word suddenly struck Joseph like a freight train.

--------

"Oh no," Joseph mumbled to himself in realisation.

Both Caesar and Suzi suddenly looked concerned at the abrupt change in Joseph's demeanor.

"What's the matter, Jojo?" Caesar asked.

"What date is it?" Joseph asked, tapping his hand lightly, anxiously, on the kitchen countertop.

Suzi checked her phone. "March 24, why?"

Joseph scratched his head in frustration. "My finals project! It's...it's due in two weeks!" He knew he had to pass his work, otherwise he wouldn't graduate his final year.

He'd completely forgotten, so engrossed he was with his strange new life with Caesar, and his long-due reunion with his old friend Suzi.

He'd fallen into a little fantasy and reality suddenly burst his colorful little bubble of joy.

Joseph's heart sank in realization. His finals project was Caesar.

Except he couldn't bear to think of him as such anymore. In their time together Caesar had become much more than an artistic masterpiece. He had become a person. He was alive. He was a companion, a partner, a friend.

Joseph loved him.

"I...I need to come up with something to submit to the gallery if I expect to make it to the end of the semester," Joseph said wearily, scratching his head in exasperation.

Suzi's usual cheer suddenly faded and was replaced with unease.

"Jojo..." she said, her voice heavy with concern. "Isn't...your project..."

Joseph sighed. "Yes. I know."

Caesar knew right away what Joseph had been talking about.

He felt an immense sadness at the realization that his very existence was a roadblock to Joseph achieving his dream.

"But...but how could I?" Joseph continued. "He's not just a project anymore, Suzi. He's a person."

Joseph shuddered at the thought of the fate that awaited Caesar, to be put on display in a glass case at the gallery. And what if they found out he was alive? What would they do to him?

"Perhaps you could still make a new project in the meantime?" Suzi asked.

"We don't have time," Joseph said. "It took me months to make Caesar to his perfection, what could I do in two weeks? What would they think if someone as reputed and talented as me passed a half-assed artwork as my final masterpiece?"

"I understand," Suzi sighed.

This was a dilemma that weighed heavily on Joseph's heart. On one hand, he had dreamed of being renowned for his talent and skill in creating art. To earn his stern, distant mother's approval. To gain recognition for his passion that he had.

But on the other hand, it would mean giving up Caesar. The little unexpected miracle that had come into his life one day and made it all the more brighter. The friend he never knew he needed. He felt like to do such a thing would be tantamount to abandoning a friend.

Caesar could see the grief in Joseph's eyes.

"I can't do this," Joseph mourned. "I can't do this to you."

Caesar could see the pain and conflict in Joseph's face, and he hurt inside too. He just wanted Joseph to be happy, and it crushed his figurative heart to see Joseph, the one single person he'd known all his brief life, in such a sorry state.

He wanted him to be happy. Whatever it takes.

A determined expression crept onto Caesar's face.

"I'll do it." he said defiantly.

Joseph and Suzi's eyes widened in shock.

"Caesar, no..." was all Suzi could say.

"But I must," Caesar insisted. "It's what you made me for, right, Jojo? This...this is why I exist. To display your talent and help you achieve your dream."

"This is my purpose," Caesar concluded.

"But why?" Joseph pleaded, looking into the eyes of his precious creation. "Why are you doing this? What about you?"

"I'll be fine," Caesar reassured. "I'm good at freezing up when people are around. They wouldn't even know."

Joseph looked upset at the thought of Caesar spending the rest of his existence in a gallery. He deserved a life.

"Jojo, I owe you everything," Caesar insisted. "You've made me live, even if it wasn't your intention. You've given me the best life you could in spite of what I am. The very fact you saw me as a person, who deserved existence as much as you, when I first awoke...for that I am ever grateful," he said. "And this is the best way I can pay you back for all you've done for me."

"Because..." Caesar hesitated.

He didn't seem sure how to say it.

"Because..."

He closed his eyes and gave a sigh.

"...because I love you, Jojo."

Was it strange that a creation had feelings for his creator? Or for a creator to feel the same?

For the same feeling had been welling up in Joseph's heart, and Caesar declaring his feelings first was like opening the floodgates of Joseph's emotions.

"Caesar..." he said, tears building up in his eyes as he gazed back into Caesar's eyes, past the polished, clay pupils and into the beautiful soul that resided within.

"I love you too," he said.

Caesar felt a warmth like never before in hearing Joseph's declaration. His brilliant blue eyes were so sincere, so full of affection, and Caesar was steadfast to do anything for him, as much as he possibly could, no matter what lay ahead.

Despite his lingering anxiety at his uncertain fate.

"So, what now?" Suzi asked, interrupting the tender moment. "How do we do this?"

Joseph, encouraged by Caesar's declaration, and his refusal to let Caesar make such a tremendous sacrifice, did what he did best.

He began to think of a plan.

"Caesar, how long can you freeze up like a statue?" he asked.

"I am a statue," Caesar replied.

"No, no, like a regular, non-living statue?" Joseph specified.

"I mean, I don't have muscles to ache or need to blink, so I guess a long time?" Caesar explained. "I've never tried how long."

"I won't let them make you have to do it forever," Joseph promised. "But I have an idea."

"Hmmm?" Caesar and Suzi hummed in unison, their interest piqued.

"There's a two-day ceremony where the judges grade the artworks," Joseph explained. "I just gotta get Caesar in there, get him graded, and take him home. He'll be up on display for two days, and then I can take him back. Hopefully, assuming he doesn't get selected for permanent exhibit..."

"All you have to do is try not to move. Can you do that for me?" Joseph asked him.

"I'll try my best," Caesar answered, now with a hint of uncertainty, as he slowly realized what he'd have to do.

"Come on, Caesar," Suzi added, realizing how Joseph's plan would unfold. "People will get to see you. They'll see how beautiful you are. Wouldn't you like that?"

"But I've never been around people before!" Caesar answered, suddenly not so sure about his decision but still determined to help Joseph.

"What if I moved and gave up our whole secret?"

"Well then," Joseph said, as he resumed trying to finish his breakfast.

"I suppose we ought to start practicing."

----------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #caejose #caesar x joseph #bust!caesar #sculptor!joseph #hands of life au #gingerreggg #battle tendency #heads up

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singledarkshade · 3 years

Text

Lingering Effects

Summary: Despite the fact Cayodan has been exorcised, Rory is having trouble dealing what happened. When an old friend calls the Doctor for help, Rory's recovery is put in jeopardy. Sequel to The Doctor And The Nurse, A Fishy Tail, Getting To Know You, Kernel Of Stubborness, Home Sweet Home, Party Time, Sewers, Bookshops And Slime. Making Old Friends, And Donna Makes…, One Unanswerable Question and The Last Warrior.

The beach was mostly deserted.

Rory could see a few people wandering about in the distance, but it was still quite early, so he didn’t expect the place to be busy. The Doctor was by the TARDIS fiddling with one of the devices he’d made, while Donna had found an open café so had wandered over to it to see what they sold.

He still felt…

Off was the only word he had to describe it because there were no words to adequately say how disconnected his body sometimes felt from him. It was now three weeks since his possession, since the mind of the warrior had taken over his body, and Rory wanted to be fine again.

He told everyone that he was, but he still felt wrong.

The Doctor had brought them to this planet to find some specific fruit he was having a craving for, apparently they made the best smoothies, plus there was a meteor shower tonight they should see. Rory knew that the reason they’d landed early was to give them a day of peace after the past few weeks running around.

Donna had loudly demanded it while Rory was in the room, but he knew it was an act as he’d overheard them worrying about him.

Part of him was pleased that they both cared so much, it was nice but the other part of him hated being treated with kid gloves because he didn’t want to be seen as fragile.

But the peace of the planet they were on was welcome.

A few feet from the TARDIS, Rory found a large flat rock and sat on it pulling his knees to his chest trying to remember how to feel normal. In all honesty nothing in his life had been normal since that day in the park so many months ago when the Doctor had stolen his bag and Rory had chased after it.

He was glad he’d taken the offer to join the Doctor on a trip, his life would have been boring without it, but he sometimes missed the naivety that he had.

The ocean stretched out before him, a strange orange that the Doctor had advised was due to the algae that lived within it, apparently the sunset was spectacular, and Rory thought of Amy.

He wanted to tell her everything that had happened to him, wanted her to tell him that he was still her Rory and hadn’t changed but that would mean telling her the truth about the Doctor and Rory didn’t want to.

At least not yet.

“Okay,” Donna appeared at his side, “I had to try these. They seem to be like sausages. So, I got you one too.”

“Thanks,” he replied softly taking the small package she handed him.

Donna slid onto the rock, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Donna replied, concern in her voice, “You keep trying to pretend you are but then you stare into the distance and disappear into yourself.”

Rory looked at her confessing, “I want to be fine.”

Donna took his hand in hers, “You will be but right now, it’s not that long since that thing invaded you. You’re allowed to be angry about it, to feel annoyed and you’re allowed to be that with us.”

“The Doctor…”

“The Doctor,” Donna cut him off, “Is worried about you. He has been watching you like a hawk since you woke up after it all. He’s been trying to make you feel yourself by taking us places where we can get in trouble and it’s also why we’re here today.”

Rory sighed, “What do I do?”

Donna shrugged, “You just go at your own pace.”

Staring at the way she was holding his hand, Rory looked up into her eyes and confessed, “I can’t sleep.”

He expected her to say something, but Donna was quiet as she simply held his hand and let him continue.

“Every time I close my eyes,” he continued after a moment, “I think he’s going to take over my body again. That I’ll be trapped like that and I…”

Donna wrapped him in a hug when he trailed off, Rory rested his head against her shoulder realising for the first time that he’d avoided any real physical contact for the past few weeks. He had come to love Donna as the big sister he’d never had and never really wanted. She was brash and didn’t back down from an argument, but she also had a huge heart.

When she let him go, Rory whispered, “Thank you.”

“Eat your lunch,” Donna said, nudging him with her shoulder.

With a tiny smile, Rory opened the local equivalent of a roll and sausage, taking a bite he grinned, “That is amazing.”

Donna laughed round the mouthful of food, “Told you.”

From his spot sitting in front of the TARDIS the Doctor watched his two companions, relieved to see Donna had broken through Rory’s carefully constructed walls. Rory was trying to pretend he was fine after Cayodan’s invasion, but the Doctor knew he wasn’t.

He knew Rory wasn’t sleeping, the Doctor had found him many times over the past few weeks in the library curled up in a chair with a book open in his lap. Sometimes awake and reading, claiming to have woken early. Other times he was asleep having finally succumbed to exhaustion. The TARDIS was watching over Rory, there was always a blanket across him when he fell asleep or sitting close by when he managed to remain awake.

The Doctor understood Rory’s feelings, Cayodan had taken away Rory’s control of his own body trapping him in a limbo that forced Rory to see his actions. Thankfully, they’d released Rory before Cayodan managed to reach those deemed to be his enemies because the Doctor knew that Rory would never be able to come to terms with his body being used to kill.

They were lucky that Rory had such a deep connection with his childhood best friend, that Amy’s voice alone had been enough to give him the strength to fight Cayodan and the Doctor had thought suggesting they visit the vivacious red head but explaining their presence, wherever Amy was, wouldn’t be easy and Rory didn’t want her to know what he was doing.

The Doctor was pulled away from his contemplation as a phone began to ring inside the TARDIS. Bouncing up and sliding inside he was expecting it to be one of his companions’ mobiles, surprised to realise which phone was ringing.

“Hello?”

“Doctor,” the voice of Martha Jones came, “I need your help.”

A smile touched his lips, “Of course. We’ll be there soon.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you,” Martha told him before hanging up.

Returning the mobile to its small cubbyhole the Doctor headed back outside to where Rory and Donna were still sitting talking.

He walked over to them and smiled as they turned to him, “A friend has asked for some help, let’s go. We can come back for the sunset and meteor shower after.”

Donna and Rory slid off the rock, brushed the sand and dirt off their clothes and they all walked back to the TARDIS.

“Where are we going?” Donna asked.

The TARDIS materialised on Earth and the Doctor instantly headed out, smiling to see Martha standing waiting for him.

“Martha Jones,” he said with a smile before closing the gap between them and hugging her tightly.

“Doctor,” she murmured as she hugged him back before he rested her back down, “You’re looking well.”

The Doctor shrugged, “You know me.”

“I do actually,” she laughed, whatever she was going to say next was cut off as the two people appeared behind the Doctor.

“Oh,” the Doctor said, realising he was being followed, “This is Donna and Rory, guys this is…”

“Dr Jones?” Rory spoke up making the Doctor stare at him stunned.

“Nurse Williams,” Martha smiled, “I never would have guessed you would end up travelling with the Doctor.”

Rory shrugged, “Me neither, although you travelling with him makes sense.”

Donna coughed and Rory turned, “This is Donna.”

“So, you two know one another?” Donna asked giving Martha a nod hello.

“We worked together,” Rory replied.

Martha laughed, “Well I was a medical student while he made sure my mistakes weren’t so bad.”

Donna chuckled, “Well that doesn’t surprise me.”

The Doctor coughed making them all turn to where he stood, “You said you needed our help?”

Martha chuckled, “Of course. Follow me,” she started them out of the alley where the TARDIS was sitting, “I was contacted by UNIT not long after I stopped travelling with the Doctor and offered a job. We’re at a construction site for a new school which found something odd beneath the building.”

“Odd sounds ominous,” Donna murmured.

Rory nodded.

“What is being described as odd?” the Doctor asked, ignoring his current companions.

Martha pulled her phone out and opened the gallery to show him several pictures that had been taken of the item. The Doctor frowned as he tried to make out anything specific.

“There is some writing on the sides of the object, but it only appears to be part of whatever that is,” the Doctor mused, he turned to Martha, “Who’s in charge of the UNIT team?”

“Colonel Terri Sheridan,” Martha replied, “She’s good.”

The Doctor sniffed, “We’ll see about that.”

The construction site had been cordoned off and a UNIT mobile lab sat in the middle of the street which was blocked off by several trucks while soldiers ran around training as others stood guard.

“Dr Jones for Colonel Sheridan,” Martha said to the guard at the entrance they arrived at, “Tell her the Doctor is with me.”

The guard’s eyes widened just ever so slightly at that before he turned and called over his radio. Turning back a moment later he nodded.

“Dr Jones, you and your guests are expected in the mobile lab,” he said, stepping back to allow them through.

Donna’s head swung from side to side taking everything in, while Rory kept his eyes straight ahead falling into an almost military march. The Doctor glanced at him for a moment with a frown before turning back to Martha just as they reached the lab.

“Dr Jones,” the woman who appeared at the door smiled, “And this must be the Doctor.”

“Colonel Sheridan by any chance?” the Doctor asked.

She nodded, “I believe you knew my uncle.”

“And your uncle is?” the Doctor was intrigued.

“Mike Yates,” Sheridan smiled.

The Doctor stared at her dumbfounded, “No!!!! Mike Yates. How is he?”

“Currently driving my aunt crazy,” Sheridan laughed, “He broke his leg a few weeks ago climbing Ben Nevis with the group of kids he’s been working with.”

The Doctor chuckled, “Well that’s typical. Now, what do you have for me Colonel?”

“Follow me,” she started out of the lab and motioned him towards the site, “And please just call me Terri.”

The Doctor nodded, “This is Donna and Rory.”

“Ah, Mr Williams,” Terri grinned as she turned to him, “I heard about your adventure in the sewers.”

Rory shuddered slightly in the memory, automatically rubbing his arm in case the eggs had begun to grow.

“Alright,” the Doctor said, “Let’s see thi…” he trailed off as they reached the half-buried object, “Well, that is interesting.”

Rory found a spot to sit as he watched the Doctor study what he could see of the object, while Martha and Donna got to know one another. There was something about it that felt familiar to him, but Rory had no idea why.

His phone buzzed and Rory smiled to see Amy had sent him a picture. Opening it he chuckled softly to see her and Julia standing in front of what the sign at the side proclaimed to be the world’s largest ball of twine. It was great to see her even in picture form and Rory wished he could spend some time with her.

He quickly typed back, ‘I’d hate to see the cat that plays with that’ before sending it. Amy’s reply back was a few laughing emojis and Rory thought about calling her but before he could the Doctor let out a cry.

“What?” they all asked.

“I need to see more of the object,” the Doctor told them, “But excavating it will not be easy. UNIT are trying to get scans of it, but we could be here for a few days.”

Donna shrugged, “I should check in with my family.”

Rory gave her a quick smile but remained silent he had no one to call. Besides he was interested in seeing what had been discovered.

“Rory,” the Doctor’s voice made him jump, surprised to find his friend standing there, “Are you with me?”

Looking up at him, Rory nodded.

The Doctor grinned, clapping Rory on the shoulder, “Come on, I want to see what you think.”

“Me?”

“You’ve read several books on things like this,” the Doctor reminded him, “And I know how well you retain information so let’s put that to some good use.”

Night fell on the construction site and the UNIT excavation team left with the night shift guards taking over. Martha and Terri arranged for dinner at the restaurant close to the site. Rory sat and listened to the chatter around the table. Terri was telling stories her uncle had told her about working with the Doctor, who was simply smiling amused and refusing to admit if they were true or false.

After dinner the Doctor decided to head back to the lab to go over some of the pictures that had been taken off the additional layers revealed.

“You know what, I am not sitting around staring at the walls,” Donna said, “Who wants a drink?”

“That sounds great,” Martha grinned.

Terri sighed, “Unfortunately I have to be in charge but another time.”

“Rory?” Donna asked.

He hesitated before shrugging, “Actually I’m tired so I’m going to head back to the TARDIS and get some sleep.”

Donna caught his hand, “Are you sure?”

“It’s been a long day,” Rory told her, “And I’ve not slept much in the last few weeks, so I think it’s a good idea to sleep when I need to.”

Donna nodded, she gave him a quick hug, “If you can’t sleep, call me and we’ll tell you were we are so you can join us.”

Rory gave her a smile before he left them to enjoy their night. Reaching the TARDIS Rory smiled feeling the comforting hum as he walked into the console room. Heading along to his bedroom, Rory stepped inside it for the first time in a few weeks. Changing into his pyjamas, Rory slid under the covers and closed his eyes falling asleep almost instantly.

Fast asleep Rory’s mind floated through the world outside the TARDIS, he could see the object but as he stood at the side the final layers of dirt disappeared and revealed the large octahedron sitting on its tip. Each side was covered in writing he recognised but couldn’t remember how he knew it.

Reaching out Rory touched different symbols on the side, watching the object begin to glow and pulsate before it suddenly exploded in a mix of fire and molten metal.

Gasping awake Rory looked around finding himself somewhere other than the TARDIS. It was a cavern, with solid looking walls made of some kind of black crystal. Slowly getting to his feet Rory discovered he was dressed and had somehow also put his shoes on. Fear gripped him as he looked around trying to work out where he was and if there was a way out of here signalled somewhere. Checking his pockets, he was disappointed to find his phone wasn’t there.

“That would have been helpful,” Rory sighed to the emptiness surrounding him.

He knew he couldn’t just stay here, as much as he kind of wanted to because there was no way anyone would find him. Taking a slow deep breath to stop himself from panicking, Rory turned and checked the two ways before deciding which way to head.

“Doctor!!!”

Donna’s startled voice made the Doctor look up from the screen he was staring at to find his friend running in, panic in her eyes,

“What’s wrong?”

Donna stopped and told him, “Rory is missing.”

The Doctor frowned, “Missing? Are you sure? He went to bed, but you know he hasn’t been sleeping. He’s probably in the library.”

“I checked,” Donna told him, “I wanted to make sure he was actually sleeping. His bed has been slept in, but it looks as though he’s got up and dressed. I checked the library, the observation deck and everywhere he goes to hide. He’s not in the TARDIS.”

“Have you called him?”

Donna pulled out Rory’s phone, “He left it.”

The Doctor stood taking the phone from her hand, “He never goes anywhere without this in case Amy calls.”

“I know,” she grimaced, “We have to find him.”

The Doctor nodded, “We do this methodically. We’re basically in a UNIT base so almost every square inch will be covered in cameras. Colonel,” he called making Terri turn to him, “I need access to every camera and security feed you have.”

“Something wrong, Doctor?” Terri asked.

“Rory may have walked somewhere he shouldn’t,” the Doctor said, “He’s missing, and I want to see if we can find him here.”

“Well,” she motioned them over to the security control section, “Rory was given full access to the site as one of your people. So, the guards would allow him in wherever he went. Lieutenant Grant will assist you with whatever you need.”

Donna wanted to scream in frustration as she sat scanning footage of the base over the three hours since she’d last seen Rory. They had him heading to the TARDIS but since the alleyway they left it in wasn’t part of the base couldn’t tell if he entered it. With the multiple cameras everywhere, they were trying to catch where, if he had, re-entered the base.

“Doctor,” Grant spoke up, “I think I may have something. It’s not much but from the clothes it’s not a member of the UNIT team.”

They gathered around the screen and Grant showed them the footage of an arm going past the cameras.

“Well, the checked shirt screams Rory,” the Doctor mused, “But he’s avoiding the cameras.”

“Why would he?” Donna asked, she noted, “It’s almost like he’s…”

She trailed off and turned to the Doctor who was staring her with a similar horror covering his face.

“Grant,” the Doctor said, “From where that camera is, can you bring up a schematic of where he might be going?”

Grant frowned in thought for a moment, “I can try. The way he’s moving suggests a specific pathway. That means there are limited possibilities for his destination.”

“We work through them methodically,” the Doctor told him, “But when you find Rory, be careful.”

Grant looked confused, “Why?”

“Just be careful.”

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

As Rory walked he could feel something tickle against his mind, like a whisper he could hear on the edge of his consciousness. Each step he took made it slightly louder and although Rory knew he shouldn’t move towards the creepy whispering, his legs wouldn’t stop.

The smooth black crystal structure was becoming darker and more sinister with each step. Every moment he moved forward Rory knew that this was wrong, but he couldn’t stop. The whispers became louder and more threatening.

He wanted to run, he wanted to get back to the TARDIS but he was being pulled closer to whatever was there.

Rory felt sick deep in the pit of his stomach as the memories he held of the man who had taken control of him were bubbling to the surface. He didn’t want to see them, didn’t want to remember any of the horrors the warrior had inflicted on others, and they were getting stronger with each step he took but it was impossible to stop.

“Doctor,” Terri called before he ran out the door, “You need to look at this.”

Annoyed he spun back to the screen she was standing at, “What?”

“We managed to get a different type of scanner to check the artefact,” she explained, “It’s given some more details on the writing. I’m hoping this will help you.”

The Doctor scanned the writing, fear filling him as he began to realise what the thing was and if it was then he also knew why Rory was missing.

“Donna,” he yelled as he ran out, she jumped but followed him as he began to run towards the opening of the underground site.

“What the bloody hell?” Donna demanded as the walls around them became a black crystal, “Doctor?”

Shaking his head, the Doctor began to run faster, “The device is from a civilisation which decided they had the right to judge the universe. It hones in on guilt that the people it judges feel and considering everything that has recently happened to Rory, then the guilt he feels is enormous.”

Fear covered Donna’s face, “Oh no. He is barely holding on at the moment as it is.”

They continued through the tunnel and suddenly heard a cry of anguish. Glancing at one another, they began to run. Donna winced as they ran into a cave made of black crystal finding Rory on the ground tears rolling down his cheeks as a man she didn’t recognise sat on a throne.

“Do you speak for the accused,” the man intoned.

The Doctor pulled out the sonic screwdriver and scanned him as Donna dropped down to Rory’s side. She could see the agony in his eyes and wanted to take away all the pain he was feeling right now.

“Who accuses him?” the Doctor demanded.

“I am Halig of the Theiums,” the man replied, “We judge those who are not worthy.”

Anger filled Donna, “He hasn’t done anything.”

Halig let out a laugh, “His memories say different.”

“They’re not his,” Donna snapped.

“It won’t work,” the Doctor told her, “Halig isn’t real, he’s a program set up to judge people who feel guilty. We must have activated it when we got here. Otherwise, there would have been a queue.”

Halig stood and intoned, “Present your arguments.”

“No,” the Doctor replied, “I don’t recognise your authority.”

The man tilted his head before he seemed to flicker and repeated, “Present your arguments.”

Rory cried out, gripping his head.

“Stop,” the Doctor snapped, “You have no authority here. If you don’t stop, I will destroy you.”

Again, the man tilted his head before he flickered and repeated, “Present your arguments.”

“Doctor,” Donna yelled, “You have to stop it,”

Annoyed the Doctor scanned what could be seen of the artefact and frowned, “Give me your phone.”

Donna instantly obeyed before she turned back to Rory, managing to pull him into her arms and hugging him close. The Doctor could hear her whispering comfort to the younger man before he quickly called Martha.

“I need some explosives,” he told her, “I’ve set the sonic to direct you to where we are, but you need to hurry.”

Donna looked up at the Doctor when he crouched down beside them, they were now completely ignoring Halig who seemed to be stuck in a loop, confused by the Doctor refusal to accept it’s authority.

“Why do we need the explosives?” Donna asked.

The Doctor frowned, “I can’t access the system. It’s dead-lock sealed which means the sonic can’t open it.”

“Will it hurt Rory?” Donna stroked his hair as Rory curled into her lost in the memories he was being forced to relive.

Grimacing the Doctor shook his head, “I don’t know but if I leave it then that thing will continue to torture him.”

Only a few moments later Martha, Terri and several guards arrived carrying the explosives the Doctor had asked for.

“Donna, Martha,” he ordered as he took the explosives, “Get Rory out of here. Best to get him into the TARDIS.”

Martha nodded and ordered two of the guards to help them carry Rory out of the cave. Assured his friend was being moved to safety, the Doctor turned back to the artefact and began to place the explosives at strategic places.

“Is this a good idea?” Terri asked.

The Doctor nodded, “If I’m right, which I usually am, this will implode after the initial explosion, and you won’t need to excavate the site.”

Terri sighed, “Well, my report will basically blame you for this. So, whenever you’re ready.”

The Doctor set the timer and they started to run. Reaching the edge of the safe zone just as the timer hit zero and the ground shook at the explosion. Watching the large object suddenly crumple in on itself, the Doctor nodded in satisfaction before he ducked into the TARDIS.

Donna hugged Rory tightly as they sat on the floor of the TARDIS as they waited for the Doctor to destroy the thing that was hurting him. Martha was standing worriedly but it was clear she felt uncomfortable.

Suddenly the room shook and Rory gasped.

“Hey,” Donna whispered, “Rory, talk to me.”

Her friend’s green eyes focussed on her, “It’s stopped,” he whispered.

The door opened and the Doctor walked in, instantly moving to Rory’s side and dropping down beside him.

“Doctor,” Rory breathed, “Why won’t he leave me alone?”

Tears filled Donna’s eyes at Rory’s question, as the Doctor grimaced.

“I’m sorry, Rory,” the Doctor told him, “I should have recognised the artefact faster and never should have let you near it.”

“You need to sleep,” Donna spoke up.

Rory shook his head, “I can’t.”

“Do you trust me?” the Doctor asked softly.

Donna squeezed Rory’s hand as he nodded.

Placing his fingers on Rory’s temples, the Doctor breathed, “Then trust me now and I’ll help you rest.”

Rory leaned into the Doctor and Donna sighed in relief that the younger man did trust the Time Lord as the Doctor gently helped Rory into unconsciousness.

The Doctor took Terri’s offered hand.

“It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor,” Terri said, “Uncle Mike will be annoyed he didn’t get a chance to see you, but I know you have to leave.”

He nodded, “Give Mike my best.”

“How is Rory?” she asked quietly.

“Recovering,” was all the Doctor said, “Look after yourself, Colonel. You’ve given me hope for the future of UNIT.”

She chuckled as he gave her another quick smile before he headed into the TARDIS. Donna and Martha were standing talking waiting for him.

“Thanks for coming,” Martha hugged him.

The Doctor smiled as he hugged her back, “You’re welcome. I’m glad you and your family are doing well.”

Martha let him go before asking, “Will Rory be okay?”

The Doctor nodded, “He will. He is tougher than people think.”

“I remember,” Martha smiled, she turned to Donna and hugged her quickly, “Look after them.”

Donna nodded, “Someone has to.”

As Martha left the Doctor threw his coat over the railing and moved to the console.

“Where are we going?” Donna asked.

“Rory needs someone to help him through this,” the Doctor told her, “And there is only one person I know who will do that.”

Donna frowned confused for a moment before realisation hit her, “Amy.”

“Amy,” the Doctor nodded, “He needs her in person this time and I don’t care if he doesn’t want her to know he’s travelling with us. She’s who he needs right now.”

“Then let’s go get her,” Donna stated, gripping the console as the Doctor hit the lever.

#fic #alternate universe #doctor who #Rory Williams #Tenth Doctor #Donna Noble #Martha Jones

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debbiechanclub · 4 years

Text

Best Two Out of Three, Part 16

Well, it’s late AF but I SAID I’d get it posted! And it’s a monster. And, pardon my French, but I’m damn fucking proud of it. (And thank you SO MUCH to @what-does-mine-say for her help!!!)

I just hope you all don’t hate me (or Alex for that matter) after reading it *nervous laughter*

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 16/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x Cash Wheeler and Adam Page x OFC

Warnings: Language because it’s me; tremendous amounts of angst; anxiety; drinking and allusions to alcoholism; … and cheating *cries*

Word count: 7.7k

Catch up on previous parts here.

When Callie arrived back at the house from her run, she’d expected to hear the lawnmower. The grass was getting bad, and she’d asked Adam last night to please cut it that morning before it got too hot. But as she walked up the front porch and back into the house, it was silent. Too silent.

She pulled out her ear buds and set them with her phone on the kitchen island before marching upstairs to their bedroom. It was nearly 11, and if he was still asleep—

But when she burst into their bedroom, she found their king-sized bed empty and unmade. Her brow furrowed. She glanced toward the master bath; that was dark and empty, too. She turned and went back downstairs, searching through the house. He wasn’t in the den or the garage, or anywhere else that she could see. Finally, she peered through the sliding glass door into the backyard. Anger bubbled up inside her. Adam sat at the patio table, an open beer can in his hand.

The glass door gave an angry whir as Callie slid it open. Adam didn’t even so much as glance in her direction, too occupied with his phone. “Are you seriously drinking? It’s not even eleven, Adam.”

“It’s Miller Lite,” he dismissed with a roll of his eyes. “It’s practically water.”

Callie’s eyebrows arched. The question flew out of her mouth before she could stop it. “But is it your first?”

Adam’s gaze flicked up to meet hers. “Are you serious?”

For a moment, Callie was struck dumb by the darkness in his eyes. They held a storm of emotion—anger, hurt, betrayal. He’d never looked at her like that, and a wave of regret surged up through her. But she steeled herself against it. As much as it hurt her to see him in such a state, she knew it would only get worse if she didn’t say something.

“Yes, I’m serious,” she returned. “I know you’re upset about all the shit with Kenny and Alex, but it’s getting out of hand, Adam. You’ve been drinking more and more the last few weeks. I don’t think I’ve seen you without a drink in your hand since we got back from Jacksonville. Do you know how many empty beer cans and whiskey glasses I’ve cleaned up the last few days?”

He looked back down at his phone. “Well, no one asked you to clean them up,” he bluntly returned with a sip of his beer. It stunned her again. And then, it angered her.

“No, they didn’t,” she shot. “But I guess I’m the only one around here who cares. Do I need to mow the lawn, too?”

Adam abruptly slammed the beer can down onto the table, making Callie flinch. When he spoke, his voice came out eerily calm. “I’m a grown-ass man, Callie. Don’t talk to me like I’m a child in my own damn house.”

He stood up and stalked toward the patio door, not looking at her as he passed. She followed after him as he went inside. “Babe, please just talk to me.”

“I really don’t want to,” he said, moving toward the garage.

“Why not?”

He whirled around to face her. “Because I just don’t! Okay? Just let me deal with my shit how I want to deal with it!”

He glared down at her, and the look on his face sent Callie’s heart into her throat. If his eyes had been dark before, they were downright unrecognizable now. This wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. She didn’t know who this person was.

“Well if this is how you want to deal with it, then I don’t want to be around it.”

She pushed past him and grabbed her phone off the kitchen island and her keys off the hook on the wall next to the garage door. Tears filled her eyes as she left and climbed into her car. She wasn’t sure what hurt worse: knowing that Adam was hurting, or knowing that he didn’t want her help to take away the pain.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex was trying every trick in the book to clear her head. She’d gotten up with the sun and gone for a run despite absolutely hating it. She’d cleaned her kitchen and bathroom and vacuumed the entire house. She’d taken a long, hot shower. Now, she was going through her entire wardrobe, getting rid of the things she didn’t wear and reorganizing the rest. But no matter what she tried she couldn’t distract herself from what she’d done.

She’d kissed Kenny, not the other way around. She’d grabbed him and kissed him, aching to feel him in that moment, and she’d only broken away at the prospect of getting caught. How much further would she have gone if she hadn’t heard those voices in the hall? Would she have kept kissing him? Would she have straddled his lap, let him carry her into the bathroom and fuck her on the sink? She liked to believe she wouldn’t, but she wasn’t sure. And she hated herself for that.

And Cash. She’d hidden it from him—all too easily. After his match she’d kissed him like her life depended on it, and he’d changed without even taking a shower so they could get back to the hotel as quickly as possible. She’d had bruises on her thighs from how hard he’d gripped her, her back pressed flat against the shower wall, teeth biting into his shoulder and her legs wrapped tight around him as he’d thrust deep into her. It had been the best sex they’d had yet; and she’d thought of Kenny as soon as it was over. She hated herself for that even more.

She grabbed a dress she hadn’t worn in over a year from off its hanger and walked out of her closet to toss it onto the quickly growing donate pile on her bed. It was probably a side effect of her guilty conscience, but she felt like purging everything and buying a whole new wardrobe. She walked over to her dresser and jerked open the bottom drawer where she kept all the t-shirts she never wore and started pulling them out onto the floor. But she suddenly stopped when she grabbed a pink and orange tie-dyed shirt that had been shoved into the back.

She sat back on her heels and smoothed out the fabric across her lap. The words “Daytona Beach” were printed in arched white lettering across the front. She’d completely forgotten she had that shirt; Kenny had bought it for her that day at the boardwalk. And now that she saw it, all the memories tied to it came flooding back in a rush.

She pushed herself to her feet and walked over to her nightstand and pulled open the drawer. She’d dropped Kenny’s locket in there as soon as she’d gotten home two days ago, and she’d managed to leave it there, out of sight and out of mind. But now she pulled it out and opened it.

Her stomach fluttered as she looked at the picture. She remembered that moment like it was yesterday. Kenny had put his arm around her waist and hugged her close on the photobooth bench. He’d smirked down at her and asked, “Are you really mad at me?” She’d pouted and turned to tell him, “Yes,” but he’d kissed her before she could. And she’d forgotten all about him wiping the floor with her on every game in that arcade.

She closed the locket and slipped the chain over her neck as she moved to her full-length mirror. The chain was long, and the locket hung below her chest, halfway to her belly button. She was impressed with how well Kenny had done; it was exactly her style. And as she looked at herself in the mirror, she had a thought.

She grabbed her phone off her bed and walked back to the mirror. She mussed her long brown hair just so and half-tucked her oversized tank top into her cutoff shorts, adjusting it so that her lacy bralette peeked out of the low-cut neck, and struck a flattering pose. She must have taken twenty photos before she finally got one she liked. It was definitely a little bit sexy; but honestly, that was what she wanted. She opened up Instagram, chose the photo from her gallery, and typed up a caption. Feeling cute, might delete later #ootd. And then she hit “post.” To everyone else, it would just look like a typical girly Instagram post. But when Kenny saw the locket around her neck, he would know.

She tossed her phone back onto the bed and went back to cleaning out her dresser. She got through the rest of the t-shirts and most of the next drawer before she couldn’t stop herself from looking anymore.

She picked up her phone and opened Instagram. The picture already had a few dozen likes, mostly from fans but a few from friends. Trent had already commented. Your pockets are longer than your shorts. She rolled her eyes.

A new notification popped up and she immediately opened it. Cash had liked the photo and commented with a heart eyes emoji. Alex’s heart sank, suddenly feeling guilty for even getting the idea to post the picture. But, suddenly, another notification came in: kennyomegamanx liked your photo.

Her heart sped up. A few seconds later, her phone chirped with a text—from Kenny.

Fuck, Alex. I wasn’t expecting that. Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?

Alex bit her lip as she read the message, over and over again. It was bold, and she had enabled it. But before she could decide what the hell she should do, if anything at all, another text came in—from Cash.

Good lord, sweetheart. I’m about to get in my car and not stop until I’m at your house and in those cutoffs.

Alex threw her phone to the bed like it was on fire. She ran her hands through her hair. “What the fuck are you doing?” she breathed. But, suddenly, her phone rang. She stole a glance at the screen, terrified it was Kenny or Cash—but it was Callie.

She picked it up and answered it, welcoming the unexpected interruption. “Hello?”

“Hey. Are you busy?”

Her voice was thick; she sounded upset. Alex’s brow furrowed. “No. I’m actually trying to make myself busy,” she admitted with a wry laugh. “Why? What’s going on?”

Callie drew in a shaky breath. Was she crying? “I know this is last minute and you don’t exactly live right down the road… but I’d really appreciate it if you came over.”

“Yeah,” Alex immediately said. “Of course. Should I pack a bag or anything?”

She didn’t answer right away. “If you want,” she eventually said.

Alex chewed her lip. “Okay. Is everything alright?”

It seemed like a stupid question; it certainly didn’t sound like everything was alright. But, whatever it was, Callie didn’t want to discuss it over the phone. “We’ll talk about it when you get here,” she said.

“Okay,” Alex said again. “See you in a couple hours.”

They said goodbye and hung up. Alex navigated back to Cash’s text and typed up a quick reply. Hold that thought. Callie just called and asked me to come over. She sounded upset.

She hit send—and then she pulled up Kenny’s text again. She opened the emoji keyboard and looked at the frequently used tab. The very first one was the kissing face emoji. She’d recently sent it—to Cash. Her thumb hovered over it, tempted to send it to Kenny. But she thought better of it and closed out of her messages and locked her phone, hurrying to pack a bag and get out the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie had texted Alex to meet her at a grocery store parking lot about twenty minutes from the house. If there was one complaint she had about living out in Middle-of-Nowhere, Virginia, it was that it took at least twenty minutes to get to anything; it certainly wasn’t like that where she was from in California, and she still hadn’t gotten used to it. But she’d trade every convenience in the world for Adam. He was her world. But, right now, she didn’t feel like she was his.

She sat in her car staring at her phone, hoping he would call or text, getting angrier by the second. Didn’t he care where she was? She’d been gone for hours. She opened up Instagram and started scrolling, hoping to distract herself, and when she got bored with that she turned to Twitter. She was typing a snarky reply to something Britt had tweeted when someone knocked on her window, making her jump. She looked up. It was Alex.

She jumped out of the car, nearly hitting Alex with the door as she opened it, and threw her arms around her neck.

“Okay, you’re kinda scaring me now,” Alex awkwardly returned; she clearly hadn’t expected to be ambushed with a hug. “What’s going on?”

Callie could feel the tears rising from her stomach to her throat, threatening to spill. “Adam and I got into it this morning. I walked out right before I called you. I’ve been gone for hours and he doesn’t even seem to care.”

Alex relaxed and returned the embrace. “Why’d you get into it?”

“His drinking.” Callie sniffled as she pulled away. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “It’s gotten completely out of hand. It’s all he ever seems to do anymore, and he won’t talk to me or let me help him…”

Her voice broke, and Alex immediately pulled her into another hug as the tears finally broke forth. “Why is he drinking?” she asked.

Callie pulled away again, wiping her cheeks dry. “Kenny,” she said. “He feels guilty about setting you up with Cash now that he knows how Kenny feels. And Kenny’s behavior isn’t helping.”

Alex seemed to freeze when she said that, her eyes wide and her jaw tight. But before Callie could ask, she said, “Come on. I’ll take care of it.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Twenty minutes later, Alex didn’t wait for Callie before she climbed out of her Jeep and moved toward the front door of Callie and Adam’s house. Callie hurried to catch up with her as she let herself in.

“Where is he?” Alex asked.

“I’m not sure,” Callie said. “Probably in the backyard.”

Alex walked into the kitchen and got a glass out of one of the cabinets. She turned on the sink and filled it to the top with water.

“What’re you doing?” Callie asked.

She gave her a look. “Sobering him up.”

She walked purposefully toward the back of the house and out the sliding glass door. Adam sat with his eyes closed on one of the patio couches in front of the fire pit, his boots propped up on the ottoman, a beer can clutched in his hand. He didn’t even stir as Alex marched right up to him and threw the entire glass of water in his face.

“What the fuck?!” He sat up, sputtering. He blinked his eyes open against the light and water. “Alex?” he asked in confusion and anger. “What the fuck was that for?”

“For being a fucking jerk,” she returned. “For being passed out drunk in your backyard.”

“I’m not—” he cut himself off with a groan as he wiped the water from his face. “What the fuck are you even doing here?”

“Callie called me crying and asked me to come over,” she said with a motion toward Callie. “Did you even realize she was gone for more than two fucking hours?”

Adam cast his gaze regretfully at Callie. But he had nothing to say for himself. Alex let out a breath. She walked over to Callie and squeezed her shoulder. “Give us a minute, alright?”

She nodded. Her eyes were full of hurt as she looked briefly at Adam before turning and going back into the house. Alex made sure she’d closed the door behind her before she walked back over and sat down next to Adam on the couch, setting the empty glass on the ottoman. Adam spoke first.

“Did she really call you crying?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he breathed. “What did she say?”

“That your drinking’s gotten out of hand. That you’re self-medicating because you feel guilty about me and Kenny and won’t talk to her about it.”

For a long time, Adam didn’t say anything. When he finally did speak, he couldn’t look at her. “He blames me, Alex. He thinks I’m the reason that you two aren’t together anymore. And he’s not wrong.”

Alex’s face fell, suddenly becoming conscious of the weight of Kenny’s locket around her neck. She hadn’t bothered to take it off before running out of her house to meet Callie. She gripped the locket in her hand, worried that somehow Adam would know what it was. Know what she’d done after Dynamite that week. “Why do you think he blames you?”

“Because he fucking told me he does,” he returned with a look at her. His eyes were glassy. “He called me a guilty drunk.”

Her brow furrowed. “When?”

“After the fight at the hotel. I went to his room to talk to him. He thought I’d called him over to rub you and Cash in his face.”

Alex’s heart sank when she saw the look on Adam’s face. He was lost, broken, hurt. And then she realized: this wasn’t really about her and Kenny. It was about him and Kenny.

She scooted closer and pulled him into a hug. “You’re not a guilty drunk,” she assured. “You’re a good friend. Everything you did was done with good intentions. I know Kenny can’t see that now… but he will.”

Adam didn’t say anything in return. He just gripped her tight, clinging to her like a lifeline. It worried Alex. She’d never seen him like this. She’d witnessed his anxiety countless times before, the way he tended overthink and constantly doubt himself, but this was deeper. She wished she could take some of it on herself, help unburden him, if only for a moment.

Eventually, he let her go. He looked so tired. So defeated. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s better this way.”

She cocked her head at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve felt like a black sheep for six months now,” he said. “Maybe longer. I don’t fit in with Kenny and Matt and Nick. That’s why I’ve been hanging out with Dax and Cash; I fit in with them. I know them, they accept me for who I am. And I feel like Kenny and the Bucks don’t. So I don’t know. Maybe I should just cut my losses.”

Alex frowned. “Trust me, I know how you feel.”

“What?” He gave her a confused look. “You and Best Friends are four peas in a fucking pod.”

A corner of her mouth quirked up. “No, I don’t mean them,” she clarified. “When I was… involved with Kenny last year, the entire time I felt like Matt and Nick hated me; especially Matt. It just seemed like they didn’t think I was good enough for Kenny. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if they influenced him against me.”

“Like I did with you against Kenny,” Adam muttered.

She pursed her lips. “The point I’m trying to make is that I know exactly how exclusive Kenny and the Bucks can act. But they let you into their circle for a reason. Yeah, you’re different from them in a lot of ways. But that doesn’t mean you don’t fit in. It just means you bring something unique to the table that none of them do. And if they don’t appreciate that… then that’s on them.”

Adam looked down at the ground. Alex wasn’t sure if he believed what she was telling him, but when he looked back at her his eyes seemed a little brighter. “Remember how we always used to talk about being a tag team? Maybe it’s time we finally did it.”

Alex gave a sarcastic laugh. “I’m sure Kenny would love that.”

He returned her grin, but it faded fast. “Thank you for being there for Callie,” he said. “I know I’m in the fucking doghouse now.”

She shook her head. “Just talk to her. That’s all she wants.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Thank you, Alex,” he said again. “You’re my best friend, you know that?”

She squeezed his hand back. “I know. Don’t let Chuck hear you say that, though.”

“I don’t care, I’ll fight him.”

She smiled and pulled him into another hug. “No more drinks the rest of the day, alright?”

“Deal,” he agreed. They unwrapped their arms from around each other. “Do you want to stay for dinner, or something? You came all the way out here.”

Alex shook her head as she pushed her hair behind her ear. “No; I’ll give you two your privacy. Besides, I think the drive back will help clear my head.”

His brows knitted together when she said that. “Is everything alright?”

She pressed her mouth into a thin line. No, everything was not alright. But there was no way she could tell Adam what had happened with Kenny, not after what he’d just told her about all he was going through with The Elite. So she just said, “It’s just stuff. I’m an anxious millennial, too.”

Adam looked like he didn’t quite believe her; but, thankfully, he let it go. “Alright. Well text me when you get home.”

“I will.”

They exchanged goodbyes, and Alex went back into the house and exchanged a few reassuring words with Callie before going out the door and climbing back into her Jeep. And as she got on the road and started the two-hour drive back home, she rolled down the windows and cranked up the music, hoping it would take her away to another place.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex closed her eyes and pulled her legs into her chest as she sunk back into her cubby hole in the locker room, making herself small. She breathed in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, trying desperately to just focus on the moment in front of her. She’d been ruminating all day—all week—teetering on the edge of an anxiety attack ever since she’d set foot into Daily’s Place. And she had no one to blame but herself.

Cash knew something was wrong. She’d told him she was nervous about his match that night, which wasn’t entirely untrue—FTR was teaming with The Elite against Dark Order in a 12-man tag match. He’d assured her that it would be alright; he was more than capable of putting his issues with Kenny aside for the sake of the match. But his assurance had only made her feel worse. The issues he knew were just the tip of the iceberg.

Alex had tried not to text Kenny back after he’d responded to her Instagram post. She’d tried to put it out of her mind, and she’d damn near succeeded. But, later that night, long after she’d returned home from Callie and Adam’s, Kenny had sent another message: Why’d you post that picture? And she hadn’t been able to stop herself from answering: Because I was thinking of you.

It had been a slippery slope from there.

I can’t ever stop thinking of you.

We shouldn’t do this.

You’re the one who posted that picture. You wanted me to see it.

I’m going to sleep.

Goodnight, baby.

I dreamed about you last night.

A good dream or a bad dream?

A good one. A not PG one.

And what did you do when you woke up?

Do you have to ask?

Did you think of me?

Yes.

Do you think of me when you’re with him?

Kenny, stop. This isn’t right.

That’s not a no.

She’d deleted the texts before going to Cash’s place the next day; and, somehow, that made her feel even guiltier than sending them. It meant she had something to hide. It proved that Kenny still held a part of her heart even while she was falling in love with Cash. And she knew that if she didn’t figure out who she wanted to give her heart to completely, she’d be left with nothing but a gaping hole in her chest.

Someone nudged her knee. She opened her eyes. Chuck stood in front of her. “Hey. Are you coming out with us for our match against Santana and Ortiz?”

Alex chewed nervously on her lip. But she nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

He smiled. “Cool. We’re on second in case you haven’t seen the card.”

Alex just nodded. She knew they were on second—right after FTR and The Elite’s match against Dark Order. The thought of that alone made her anxious.

Her phone vibrated in her hand. She looked down at the screen and felt herself stumble closer to the edge. It was a text from Kenny.

Meet me in the EVP room. Please.

Her mouth went dry. She knew she shouldn’t go even as she stood and told Chuck she’d be right back. She knew she should turn around with every step she took closer and closer to the EVP room. She knew she shouldn’t raise her fist and knock even as she did, and she definitely knew she shouldn’t have gone in and closed the door as soon as she saw Kenny sitting on the couch, alone.

“Hey.” He stood and met her halfway, and the next thing Alex knew his hands were on her face and his lips on hers. It was a different kiss entirely from the one they’d shared last week, tender and slow instead of desperate and hungry, and, for a few seconds, she returned it. But then she thought of Cash and pushed him away.

“No; we can’t do this, Kenny.”

She took a step back, afraid that if she didn’t he’d pull her right back into his orbit. Even now she could feel it tugging at her heart.

He breathed a laugh. “Yeah, you keep saying that. Yet here you are.”

Her shoulders slumped. She had no good answer for that. He was right.

He took a step closer. She didn’t move. “Why post that picture?” He gripped her hips, drawing her into him. “Why tell me that you got yourself off thinking about me if you don’t want this?”

“I’m not cheating on Cash.”

“So break up with him.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “It’s not that simple.”

He looked to the ceiling, let her go and took a step back. “Right. Of course it’s not,” he breathed. “But it was simple when you ended things with me to start seeing him.”

Alex’s eyebrow arched. Hurt. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“No,” she repeated. “That was the hardest fucking conversation I’ve ever had. And it’s not fair of you to compare that to this. That was different.”

“How? How was it different?”

“Because we weren’t together. I didn’t cheat on you with Cash.”

“Oh bullshit, Alex,” he shot. “We were together.”

“For a week. I’ve been with Cash for over a month now.”

“And yet, here you are.”

Again, she was at a loss. She was here with him because a part of her wanted to be. But another part of her knew it was wrong.

He stepped forward again, cupped her face in his hands. He looked into her eyes, and Alex felt it all the way into her soul. “What do you want, Alex?”

Her answer came out barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.”

The door handle suddenly turned. Alex and Kenny jumped apart from each other just as Matt and Nick walked into the room. They both came to a halt just inside the door, staring back and forth between them. Alex flushed and looked away. If the conspicuous distance between her and Kenny wasn’t a dead giveaway that they’d interrupted something, the awkward silence certainly was.

“Uh, hey guys…” Nick said just to say something. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Alex quickly returned. Too quickly. She glanced at Kenny, “I just had a question… about the women’s tag team tournament. So, I came and asked it.”

Matt and Nick stared blankly back at her. That was a blatant lie; she wasn’t even in the women’s tag team tournament. Her heart pounded in her ears. She needed to leave.

“Well, I’m gonna go,” she said. “Gotta get ready for Chuck and Trent’s match against Santana and Ortiz.”

She didn’t look back at Kenny as she moved toward the door. Matt and Nick stepped aside so she could exit, and she hurried out the door and into the hall, stumbling on the edge, using what little strength she had left to at least make it somewhere private before she broke down.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex stood next to Callie at Gorilla, her eyes trained on the monitor in front of them, chewing her lip so hard that it started to hurt. Neither of them had said so much as a word to each other since the 12-man tag match had started. They were both far too wrapped up in their own thoughts and concerns about the men in the ring.

She held her breath as Stu Grayson and Nine set up Adam for a double vertical suplex; but Dax and Cash came in for the save, catching Adam before he could hit the mat. Kenny joined them, and they all lined up and hit a four-on-three triple vertical suplex against Grayson, Nine, and Evil Uno. Adam went for the pin—but Colt Cabana flew in and broke it up.

Callie let out a breath. “Well, they’ve actually been working pretty well together so far,” she remarked.

Alex didn’t say anything in response. Much to her surprise, they had been working well together so far, and Dark Order hadn’t been able to get in much offense at all. But Kenny and Cash had also largely avoided each other. It was an easy thing to do in a match with so many people.

Smack!

Shit.” Alex’s hand flew to her mouth. After Colt had broken up the pin attempt, Kenny had given chase to him around the ring—and he’d run straight into a massive superkick from Brodie Lee.

The domination by The Elite and FTR ended at that point. Grayson and Uno isolated Kenny in the ring, taking turns beating him down. Alex almost didn’t want to watch. But then Five tagged in, and Kenny managed to dive for a tag to Dax.

Kenny rolled to the floor outside the ring while FTR went to work on Five. He charged Cash in the corner, but Cash floated over him, rebounded off the ropes, and caught him in a resounding powerslam. Then Grayson ran in, but Cash hit him with a back suplex, followed by a powerful clothesline to take out Evil Uno right after.

“Damn,” Callie smirked at her. “That’s your man.”

Alex’s stomach churned. That was her man. And he had no idea he was sharing her heart with someone else.

They turned their attention back to the match. FTR and Adam were all in the ring. They looked like they were attempting to put simultaneous figure four leg locks on Five, Grayson, and Uno; but before they could, the three members of the Dark Order all kicked them away at once, sending them crashing into each other.

After that, The Elite took over. Kenny returned to the match and worked impeccably with Adam against Five and Grayson, and Nick showed off why he was the best high-flier in the company. But Alex’s eyes were on Cash, watching him as he stood on the ring apron with Dax. It was subtle, but she could tell that he didn’t like standing by while Kenny and the rest of The Elite took all the glory. She was certain it didn’t help when Kenny and Nick started pandering to the camera, chanting, “The Elite! The-the Elite!”

Eventually, Dax tagged in. He grabbed Five and held him across his knee, setting up for Demolition Decapitation. But when Cash delivered the tandem move from the middle rope, Dax fell to the mat, clutching his right knee.

“Oh no,” Callie gasped.

Alex watched in concerned silence as Cash went to check on his partner. Meanwhile, Kenny tagged in and hit a Dr. Wiley Bomb on Five; but other members of Dark Order broke up the pin attempt.

After that, Kenny was left to fend for himself. Cash and the ringside trainer helped Dax to the back—as did Adam. Nick and Matt watched after him as he went, completely confused as to why he was going with them.

So was Callie. “What is he doing?”

Alex didn’t know what to say. She thought back to what Adam had told her that weekend, how he felt more comfortable with FTR than he did The Elite. She wondered if he’d said as much to Callie after she’d left. But then Adam appeared, passing through the Gorilla curtain after FTR and the trainer. Callie sent him a perplexed look.

“Adam, what are you doing?”

He didn’t break his stride as he looked at her over his shoulder. “What?” he returned, as if he didn’t understand why she was asking such a thing. “He’s hurt, Callie.”

Callie gaped back at him. “But your tag team partner is still out there…” she said, more to herself than him. He was already gone.

They both turned back to the monitor. It was a six-on-three match now, and Dark Order was taking turns beating down Matt. Colt nearly scored the victory for his team after hitting a big splash off the top rope, but Matt kicked out. He got a last burst of energy and did his best to fend them off; Callie cheered when he hit Five with a springboard stunner. Seeing an opening, he tried to tag in Nick—but Evil Uno pulled him to the floor and delivered a brutal belly-to-belly suplex that flattened him.

Once again, Matt was left to keep his team alive. But then a blur ran past Callie and Alex. Adam. He hurried to the ring apron, extending his arm out to Matt. He tagged him in—and Adam went ballistic. He delivered lariats to Grayson and Five before launching himself over the ropes and taking out Colt with a crossbody. Then he jumped back in the ring and delivered another lariat that sent Five over the ropes before running and diving through the ropes in a suicide dive to take out Nine.

Alex stole a glance at Callie. She expected her to be wildly cheering Adam on with the crowd—but she looked confused still. “Where the hell is Kenny?” she suddenly asked.

“There,” Alex said with a nod as he appeared on the other side of the ring apron from where Adam stood. But then Adam climbed atop the turnbuckle and did a moonsault onto all of Dark Order except Brodie—and Mr. Lee was not happy.

Adam picked Five up and tossed him back into the ring, climbing in after him. He threw him face-first into the turnbuckle, goading Brodie to tag in. It worked. He stepped through the ropes and the two men sized each other up. Adam started talking shit, and Alex smirked; that was the Hangman she knew. But then Brodie struck. They started trading big blows in the middle of the ring, but Dark Order gained the upper hand by opening the ropes just as Adam tried to rebound off them, sending him falling to the floor below. Brodie dove through the ropes and hit him like a battering ram, and Adam slammed into the guardrail. But Brodie didn’t waste a second; he immediately threw him back into the ring. The next thing they knew, Adam was draped across Colt’s shoulders as he stood atop the middle rope, a soon-to-be victim of the Chicago Skyline.

He hit the move. Callie and Alex both winced as Adam ricocheted off the turnbuckle and rolled lifelessly to the center of the mat. “Okay seriously, where the fuck is Kenny?” Callie asked again as Colt went for the pin. Her question was answered went Kenny suddenly dove into the ring, breaking up the pin attempt at two.

“Finally!” Callie breathed. She was obviously frustrated. Maybe Adam had told her how he’d been feeling about The Elite, Alex thought.

Kenny and Adam did their best to regain control, but Grayson and Evil Uno hit them with a combination 450 splash and corner cannonball. Kenny rolled out of the ring while Grayson covered Adam—but he kicked out a two.

“Yes!” Callie and Alex both proclaimed. They exchanged a grin.

Grayson tagged in Brodie. But before he could hit Adam with a discus lariat, Matt and Nick jumped into the ring and delivered a Superkick Party just as Adam ducked out of the way. They did the same to Uno and Grayson, clearing the ring of everyone but Brodie.

Kenny slid back into the ring while Adam rolled out of it onto the ramp. Kenny charged and locked his arms behind Brodie’s head, and he and the Bucks hit a combination Superkick Party and snapdragon suplex to the leader of Dark Order.

Kenny pulled Brodie to his knees in the center of the ring and pointed at Adam as he climbed to his feet. Adam ran toward the ropes and flipped into the ring, going for the Buckshot Lariat; but Brodie ducked out of the way, causing him to nearly hit Kenny instead. Alex’s heart dropped into her stomach as Adam turned around. Brodie hit him with a massive lariat that sent him flipping head over heels onto the mat. He covered him, and the ref counted one-two-three.

“Fuck,” Alex breathed. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“Oh my God.” Callie ran her hands through her hair, gripping at the ends. “This is the last thing he needs right now,” she said, just above her breath.

Kenny and the Bucks moved to check on Adam as Dark Order assembled victorious on the entrance ramp. Alex couldn’t watch anymore. “I’m gonna go find Cash,” she said to Callie.

She nodded. “Yeah, go. I’ll deal with this.”

Alex gave her a tight smile as she turned and hurried out of Gorilla. She really did want to go find Cash and see if Dax was alright. But she also just didn’t want to be there when Kenny came back through the curtain.

* * * * * * * * * *

Later that night, Alex laid in bed with Cash in their hotel room, scrolling through her Twitter timeline on her phone. The room was quiet—almost awkwardly so. But there was far too much weighing on her right now. Keeping her mouth shut seemed like the safest option, no matter how much it pained her.

Her timeline was inundated with tweets about the 12-man tag match, hours after it had happened. She came across one speculating about Dax’s injury; thankfully, he’d just tweaked his knee. But it was bad enough that the trainer had told him he needed to rest it for the next few days.

She abruptly stopped scrolling when she came across a video of Adam nearly nailing Kenny with the Buckshot Lariat. She watched it a few times over with the sound off, trying to gauge Kenny’s reaction; but it was too hard to tell. She hoped Kenny knew it was a complete accident. She hoped Adam didn’t blame himself for the loss.

Suddenly, Cash took her phone and gently pulled it out of her hands. She gave him a confused look as he set it on the nightstand with his. “What’re you doing?”

He didn’t say anything; he just pulled her closer and kissed her. His tongue parted her lips, tasting her, and Alex welcomed his touch. She ran her hand up the back of his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair, relishing the feel of him. He moved his mouth to her neck. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he murmured against her skin.

She went rigid and then instantly tried to relax again, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “Nothing’s wrong,” she lied.

“Yes there is.” He pulled back and looked down at her. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Alex’s heart dropped into her stomach. There was more than just concern in Cash’s eyes as he stared into hers. There was love. And suddenly, she knew she couldn’t hide it from him anymore.

“I kissed Kenny.”

She almost couldn’t hear herself say it, her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears. But she didn’t miss the way Cash’s expression changed. Confusion. Disbelief. “What?”

Tears sprung into Alex’s eyes, burning her sinuses. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He sat up, pulling away from her. His sudden distance made the air feel cold. “When?”

“Last week,” she said. The rest of it came tumbling out in a rush. “I went to talk to him during your match about something Matt Jackson had said to me earlier in the day. But when I got there he gave me a locket he’d had made for me. He told me he’s in love with me.”

Cash sat up further. “What?”

Tears fell from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I was overwhelmed and I wasn’t thinking—”

She abruptly stopped when Cash flung back the covers and sprung out of bed. Alex watched as he haphazardly pulled on a pair of sweats. She felt herself start to panic. “What’re you doing?”

He didn’t justify her with a response. Instead, he charged out the door and slammed it shut behind him.

Alex sat there for a second, stunned in the deafening silence. And then she realized exactly what he was doing.

She scrambled out from under the covers and ran out the door after him. He was already halfway down the hall. Headed straight for Kenny’s room.

“Cash, wait!” she begged, shouting after him. But he didn’t stop—not until he was in front of Kenny’s door. Alex moved her legs faster.

He balled up a fist and banged so hard on the door that it reverberated down the hall. “Open up, Kenny!” he yelled, deep and angry in his chest.

“Please don’t do this,” Alex pleaded. Kenny opened the door just as she reached him.

“What the f—”

He didn’t get to finish before Cash punched him hard in the mouth.

Kenny stumbled back into the room and fell to the floor. Cash was on him in an instant. He grabbed him by the hair and hit him again.

“STOP!” Alex bellowed. Suddenly, Matt and Nick came flying from next door. They charged into the room and forcefully pried Cash off of Kenny.

“Get the fuck off me!” Cash shouted as they struggled to hold him back. He was enraged. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Kenny? Huh? Telling another man’s girlfriend you’re in love with her?”

Kenny smirked up at him. His mouth was red with blood. “What?” he taunted. “Are you worried about it?”

Cash tried to lunge at him again, but Matt managed to force him out the door and into the hall, nearly bowling over Alex in the process. Nick slammed the door closed, staying in the room with Ken. Matt gave Cash a final hard shove before pointing a stern finger in his face.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the fuck outta here.”

But Cash wasn’t intimidated. “Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do, Matt? Suspend me?”

Matt took a threatening step forward. “I’ll fucking fire you.”

Alex stood rooted to her spot, petrified, afraid to even breathe as the two men stared each other down. She’d never seen Matt so angry, and she didn’t doubt for a second that he would fire Cash. But, thankfully, Cash swallowed his pride and turned and stalked back off down the hall without another word.

It took a second for Alex to get her legs to work so she could follow after him. “Cash, wait,” she said again—and again, he didn’t stop or look back. She hurried to keep up with him. As soon as they were back inside their room, he whirled around to face her, stopping her dead. His eyes were hard.

“You kissed him?”

She had to swallow a lump in her throat before she could answer. “Yes.”

He let out a breath, ran a hand through his hair. He turned and walked further into the room. “Did anything else—” but he cut himself off, shaking his head. “Actually, no. I don’t even want to know. Because I knew—I knew you weren’t over him.”

The accusation knocked the air from Alex’s lungs. She felt hollow. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe.

He looked back at her. And as they stared at each other from across the room, Alex realized that the hardness in his eyes wasn’t out of anger. It was out of hurt. “Alex… you need to figure out who you want: me or him.”

She took a step forward. “I want—”

“No,” he shook his head, cutting her off. “Don’t say you want me because it’s the right thing to say right now. You need to think about it. And so do I.”

He turned away from her again. “Cash…”

“You should probably sleep somewhere else tonight.”

That was the final blow. It cut her legs out from underneath her, gutted her from pelvis to sternum. And it felt like she’d done it to herself.

She walked over to the nightstand and grabbed her phone. Their gaze met as he sat down on the bed. His eyes were glassy.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, and she turned and went out the door with a gaping hole in her chest where her heart should have been.

63 notes · View notes

notyetneedcoffee · 4 years

Text

Date Nights 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut

New Naughty Series

“That went well.” Pepper sighed once the two of you were in the elevator alone. “I was concerned they would change their mind since Tony, well, blew up the roof garden last time.”

“He didn’t blow the WHOLE thing, just a marble urn.” You fought the smile. Pepper’s charity projects were one of the more fun parts of your gig as her PA. “You knew they wouldn’t say no.”

“I suppose.” She was reading something on her phone. “We’re good for the day. I’ve got to head into the office.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” She smiled just as the elevators from the Patron’s Lounge opened on the Sculpture exhibit. “Enjoy the museum.”

“Huh?” You looked up to see Steve leaning against the wall behind the people waiting for the elevator. He grinned at you from under his old baseball cap. “Okay. See ya, Pep.”

Steve’s smile spread as you clasped your hands behind your back, swaying your hips as you playfully sauntered over to him. “That’s a great dress.”

It was new, something you bought to celebrate spring returning. Three-quarter sleeved, tighter at the waist with full, knee-length skirt, it was conservative enough for work. However, the cornflower blue behind spring florals and the buttons running the whole length of the front made it light and flirty. It complimented you well, and you knew it.

“Glad you like it.” You smirked. “What are you doing here? I thought you were up at the Compound.”

He held up a little strip of paper, making a show of reading it. “Take time to appreciate something beautiful.” He looked around the halls of the Met Museum. “Seems like the right spot.”

“You’re adorable.” A giggle escaped.

He pushed off the wall, spinning on his toe and holding out his arm. You took it, happily swinging your small handbag. “Do you care if we head down to the American Art wing first?”

“Wherever you want.” You looked up. “How long have you planned this?”

“Since, ah, breakfast.” He chuckled. “My afternoon opened up and Tony couldn’t shut up about how Pepper kept making him promise not to wreck the next place she found for the benefit party.”

You pulled him behind a large marble statue. Scowling at him, but not seriously. “Did you purposely dig out that slip? That’s not the way it’s supposed to work.”

His hands rested on your hips, pulling you closer. Steve fought to not smile. “No. I just grabbed one.” Your eyes narrowed. He grinned, leaning closer covering your lips with his in a chaste kiss. “I swear. But there’s several that would have worked, if it had been something else we’d do it. I’m not cheating.”

You tried to be stern, until he whined and pulled you closer to kiss your face, your ear, the side of your neck. Giggling, your arms wrapped around him. Steve usually wasn’t one for PDA’s. You weren’t complaining. “Fine. I believe you.”

He laughed, low and privately, as he wrapped his arm around you. “As you should.” Steve began to lead you back through the galleries. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in the Met.” He paused, staring at the enormous screen among the medieval sculptures of religious figures. He guided you to the side.

You followed, admiring the work and enjoying the quiet. The museum was not very busy. In fact, the only two other people in the gallery room you were in slowly made their way out. Steve’s hand drifted from your back to take a firm hand hold of your ass.

Even as you shot him a look, Steve grinned. He stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you. Hot breath tickled your ear. “So, these buttons could be, ah, convenient.”

His teeth nipped your neck, sending a shiver all the way down your body. His fingers deftly unfastened two buttons just below your hips, and he slipped his hand in your dress to cup your mound. “Steve!” You hissed.

“Shh, Sweetheart. No one’s here.” His tongue playfully danced over your neck.

“Cameras.”

“Not at this angle.” He chuckled. “Don’t move.”

You felt his fingers slip beneath the silk of your panties. You sunk your back deeper into his chest with a whine.

“Mmm, so wet for me.” He purred. You shivered.

Suddenly, Steve stood up straight and efficiently rebuttoned your dress, leaving you panting. The sound of footsteps broke through your fogged brain. Leaning into his chest, you looked up into his mischievous blue eyes. “That was not fair.”

He smiled, licking his fingers slowly. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”

“Oh my god!” You felt your face flush.

He chuckled. “You are so beautiful when you blush.” You pressed your forehead into his strong chest, torn between wanting to smack him and wanting to climb him like a tree. You noticed you weren’t the only one riled by his little stunt, so you snuggled closer to rub yourself against the hardness in his jeans. Steve sucked in a breath, “Damn, woman.”

It was your turn to chuckle. You turned fake innocent eyes on him. “What?”

He laughed, biting it back as it drew the attention of the people who’d joined you in the gallery. Steve’s arm wrapped around you again as he led you through the exhibit, and yet kept you both away from the others. More people milled around the next room. Still, Steve leaned close to your ear. “I can taste you on my tongue. I want more.”

Steve walked you through room after room of beautiful paintings, commenting on the subjects or the style. He watched the others, stealing opportunities to steal kisses, to fill his palm with the swell of your breast, and to whisper filthy promises in your ear.

Eventually, he held you pinned against the wall in a little alcove by a service door. One hand gripped your hip, the other cupped your breast, while he pressed his thigh between your legs. Steve’s deep timber sent heat flowing to your core. “I want to hike this skirt up and bury my face in your sweet pussy.”

Your hands clung to his shoulders beneath his light jacket, whispering into his neck. “Fuck, Steve.” You ground against his denim clad thigh. “I need you.”

“Hold tight, Sweetheart.” His hand cupped the back of your neck. Steve froze. Someone walked by, not noticing your entangled bodied. He released a breath, hot over your skin. “Can’t wait.”

Steve took your hand in his and purposefully marched through the museum. You trailed a little behind, having to take two steps to every one of his long strides. A few people glanced your way, but you didn’t bother to notice their reaction. He pulled his keys out of his pocket even before you made it to the Great Hall. Damn it, why did the parking garage have to be at the other end of the building?

He blew past the elevators and went for the stairs. As soon as the door closed, Steve pulled you close, crashing his mouth to yours in a desperate kiss full of tongue and teeth. He growled, pulling you tight against him, letting you feel how hard and ready he was. You moaned as he lifted you off your feet.

“Come on.” Steve set you down, and you both rushed down the stairs to the parking garage. His SUV was parked in a dark corner of the garage. Steve opened the door for you, but before you could slide in he pulled you to him. Mouth hot and wet, kiss heated and desperate, he pulled at you. He bunched your skirt up in his fist until you felt his bare hands on your ass.

“Need you.” Your voice shook. He tore you panties, fingers sinking into your wetness. You gasped. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yes.” Steve growled, finger pumping against your wall perfectly, knowing your body so well. Wet, sloppy, his fingers pumped. He made you shake. One of your legs came up on the running board, spreading your legs wider for him. When you began to quiver, Steve’s other hand grasped the back of your neck and nipped at the spot on your throat that sent you over the edge.

Biting back a moan, you came over his hand, shaking and grasping his shoulders. Steve unbuckled his belt and you pulled at his jeans until your hand wrapped around his hard cock. He groaned as you stroked him. “I need to be in you, Sweetheart.” Steve pulled your leg over his hip. “Gotta fuck you now.”

A breath exploded out of your body as he plunged into you with one deep thrust. Steve pulled back, slow. You whined. He gripped your ass in one hand, protect your head with other and lifted you against the side of the SUV. Hips snapping hard and fast, Steve pressed his face into your neck. You just held on.

Tension coiled. You moaned. Steve breathed heavy in your ear, “Quiet, love. Ah, fuck. Shhh.”

You bit your lip hard. Fingers pulled on Steve’s hair. He growled, fucking you harder. You practically cried. “I’m gonna come. Steve, oh shit.”

His fingers dug into your ass hard. You bit down on his shoulder, holding back a scream as you came apart. Steve grunted holding you to him tight, burying deep, emptying himself. You clung to him, panting.

A small giggle started, but bloomed into a wicked laugh.

Steve moaned at the way it felt. “What’s so funny?”

“I can’t believe we fucked in the public parking garage?” You giggled in his ear.

He kissed you deep, smiling against your mouth. “You’re just a bad influence on me.”

“Me?” You laughed. “You started it.”

“Well, I’ll have to make it up to you.” Steve lowered you to the ground. You pouted at the loss of his touch, of his weight in you. You could feel the slick of your sex left behind. “Let’s get back to my place. How does a hot bath and dinner in bed sound?”

“Amazing.” You grinned.

He covered your mouth with his one more time before he made sure you were settled in to the passenger seat before running around the driver’s seat. He caught your staring, studying his gorgeous face, lips full and pink. “What?”

“Just taking time to appreciate something beautiful.” You rested your head back. He smiled, bright and loving.