Tumgik
#he comes home an hour late sometimes...45 minutes and almost always at least 30 minutes late at NIGHT and she says nothing except like
definitelynotnia · 1 month
Text
im sorry i have to rant im so fucking pissed
my exams end on 19th and I have to get rid of some books and buy some books which are quite pricy online so I had planned on going to college street on 20th and selling my books and buying the new ones at a cheap price and i was frankly really excited about it because all I get is a one day break to relax bcz i have to start studying for entrances from 21st so all I have is 20th and i wanted to spend it at college street and then get some food and basically have like a solo date kind of thing.
and i was so so excited about it i told my boyfriend about it like 500 times bcz i kept forgetting i've already mentioned it and it was literally on my mind a lott so i kept bringing it up and ik it seems like not a big deal cz i can just sit at home and chill too but i literally do not get to go outside my house. like- the last time i went out was new years eve and after that the only time i've gone out is to school or to give my boards that is it. my mother has some weird like problem wiht me going out like even if i tell her that i just want to go to our terrace for 5 minutes just to get some fresh air she won't even allow that she'll be all suspicious and like sTaNd In ThE bAlCOnY aNd TaKe FrEsH aIr like she herself doesnt leave the house (and blames it on me and my brother ???? when have we ever stopped you bro, she said I HaVe To Be HeRe To KeEp An EyE like im 18 i dont need to be watched 24/7 stop blaming me for choices you put upon yourself) and i just feel so suffocated ALL THE TIME i feel so overstimulated and im so sick of rotting on my bed and i dont want to wait for some birthday party or friends meet up to be able to leave my goddamn house i just wanted to go and have a fun day and get me some books thats it.
anyway so initially the plan was that my mom would go along but something came up so she wanted to postpone it to 21st and i didn't want to bcz i'd already be missing 3 days bcz of my boyfriends birthday, holi and my brothers birthday (all of which are important and i dont want to miss which makes me the villain apparently bcz i should "adjust" and cancel my "parties" instead of trying to stick to my plan bcz that makes me too demanding and selfish apparently) so i suggested that ukw why dont u go do ur thing which came up and i'll go to college street by myself...which is when the solo date idea came which i had really wanted all along but didnt bring up bcz i knew she'd say no but now there's a valid reason for me to go alone so like, its a pretty easy fix i can just go alone but noooo. First of all,
I've been to college street multiple times before so its not like its an unknown area to me
im going by metro which is quite safe
im going when there is stark daylight and i will return home much much before it gets dark and im literally 18
she never lets me go anywhere alone, not even take ubers alone if i want to get back from somewhere my bf has to come drop me everytime and then go backwards to his house which is so so so stupid and i never get to go out alone unless accompanied by family or by a male friend, so obv when i said i'll go to college street alone she refused to let that happen and started screaming about how 'if its so important to go on 20th bcz u dont want to miss a day of studying then cancel ur 'parties' and study then' and i was like no its not about missing a day its just that there's a very easy and logical fix to this problem which is i go alone and its not inconveniencing anyone so why cant i just do that but she will not listen to that bcz im 'adamant' and 'everything has to be according to me' bcz i found a viable solution to the problem. so instead of letting me just go she was literally ready to pay much more money and buy the books online, like.....why cant i just go bro??? (and she keeps telling me im a waste of her money bcz i will amount to nothing in life and my education was a failed investment or wtv so like now why are u wasting more money??? im literally trying to save the money that u 'waste' on me so just let me ???)
anyway i called my dad last night and told him and he was super ok with the idea he said its a good idea that i go alone and that he would speak to her but then today when i asked her if dad spoke to her she said yes, we'll go on 20th and i was like .....we? so apparently she CANCELLED her previously immovable thing for which she wanted me to cancel my 'parties', she cancelled that and agreed to go with me on 20th just so that i dont get to go alone- like ???????????????? what is ur problemmmm
so obv i was super annoyed and i went on a whole ass rant about how i literally struggle to even cross roads bcz i dont know shit about basic travelling bcz all my life ive been in a car and its a running joke with all my guy friends that i 'cannot navigate' and 'dont know any places' and obv??? if im never allowed to go anywhere then how tf will i know the places- the only places i know is bcz recently i've been paying a lot of attention and asking my dad stuff about what roads to take to reach certain places and when i go out with my friends i kind of try and learn a bit but thats it i've only ever gone alone completely alone to two places which is my beauty parlour thats 5 minutes away from my house and one bazaar one time that was 2 bus stops away, thats it. thats my extent of public travelling alone. and now im supposed to go to a whole new STATE for college and i cant even call myself an auto without struggling. and like- is this not a basic life skill??? like ok yeah its not rocket science and i will probably figure it out even if i start later in life but why not now? most of my guy friends literally go everywhere alone, why not me? and my dad agreed with all of this but my mom was just like "you'll be in the hostel only, no need to go out of the campus" like ARE YOU FOR REAL????????? and she's like "if u want to learn skills learn how to cook" like ok yes i will also learn how to cook for sure but i wont have a fucking kitchen in the hostel but somehow cooking is an urgent skill i should learn but going places by myself is unimportant bcz i should just never? leave? the? hostel?
anyway after much screaming and shouting my dad gave up and just cut the call bcz he doesnt want to get into an argument with my mother and my mother was being all suspicious like why do u hAvE tO gO aLoNe AlL oF a SuDdEn even though i literally explained why i want to do this alone but she doesnt think thats valid. so she refuses to let me go and i asked her for one reason why i shouldnt cz usuallt its always "no u have exam what if smthn happens" but now i literally dont even have exam so whats ur excuse now? streets will always be unsafe forever so "what if smthn happens" is not a reason to never let me go out without a man so just gimme one reason and she couldnt give me a single reason she just said "i said no, thats it".
and now she's gone off about how im useless and blah blah and "high maintainance" bcz i want books and "everyone else (some pishi's son) just studies online" and so the whole option of college street is apparently now cancelled and she's trying to set up a whole ass kindle account (half the books i need arent even available as ebooks) just because i wanted to go by myself.
#in our house kids dont stay outside past 6:30pm'' but now all of a sudden its fine for my brother to play#till 10:30 at night#she literally stopped me permanently from going down in the evenings since i was in class 7-8#this is why ive never had any friends outside of school bcz she wouldnt let me leave ths fucking house#and now that my brother is in class 7#he's allowed to be out playing with his friends till 10 freaking 30#he comes home an hour late sometimes...45 minutes and almost always at least 30 minutes late at NIGHT and she says nothing except like#one sentence#yeah im only the villain i only keep u locke#up in the house its all my fault#this is just so damn unfair#like literally insulting#im not a child what is her problem#what sort of fucking solution is 'never leave the hostel' like ok even if i do that what happens then??? after i graduate?#i'll be a 24 year old who doesnt know shit about going from one place to another without a man present]#and then this woman preaches how she 'always raises her son and daughter equally' like srsly shut the fuck up#my whole life i've been told abar late?''#and for me bcz i would come home 5-10 minutes late nd i did it maybe once or twice she made me completely stop going down to play#5-10 minutes late from 6:30 wherein he comes an hour late from 9 fucking 30#and this sounds so stupid bcz im an 18 year old now and i dont give a fuck abt how long i got to play but its just unfair dude#with me it was always smthn or the other either exams or she gets miraculously sick every time i want to go out to play#im not even kidding she did a whole “i have fever and ur going to leave me like this and go play?” on me one time bcz i was adamant abt goi#after months of not being able to go bcz of exam or smthn or the other#she did not have any fever it was fucking bullshit#and how am i supposed to help with ur imaginary fever anyway im literally 12#its so fucking annoying man and then if i say anything at all she'll go on a tirade about how#like YOU DO THOUGH??????? im sorry ur feelings are hurt bcz i said you do smthn that u LITERALLY DO#istg not even 2 days ago she was having a fight with my dad abt how he should teach my brother to learn how to cycle so that he can go buy#groceries#i can cycle
16 notes · View notes
crossroadsserpent · 2 years
Text
Love me... (Pt 1)
Gotham! Penguin x GN! Reader.
Summary: Oswald and the reader are friends, the reader is always really sweet to Oswald and this kindness causes Oswald to catch feelings for them.
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
You walked into the staff entrance of the Iceberg lounge while humming happily, though the door was supposed to be locked since Gotham was full of criminals, Oswald would sometimes leave the door unlocked if he knew you were coming by. You locked the door behind yourself before making your way up to the second floor where Oswald's office was. You stopped outside of his office door upon hearing the muffled voices of people in conversation, hesitating since you don't want to interrupt if he's doing business. You stepped away from the door, stepping back onto the stairs not wanting to eavesdrop on a private discussion.
You sat down on the stairs, playing a game on your phone for what seemed like a few hours but turned out to be about 30 minutes. After about 10 more minutes you were about to start playing a different game when your phone started to ring, Loudly. You jumped, almost dropping your phone as you fumbled quickly trying to turn turn it off but when you finally turned it off it was already too late. You heard footsteps then the office door opening before you saw Oswald looking down at you with a confused look on his face "How long have you been sitting there?"
"About 45 minutes" you chuckled sheepishly, getting up off the stairs. "Why didn't you come in?" He raised an eyebrow quizzically. You hung your head "I-I heard you talking with someone and I didn't want to interrupt you incase is was business..."
Oswald let out a soft chuckle "it's not business at all, just my mother, don't worry." He leads you into his office where his mother sat waiting for him. He gestured for you do sit down in his office chair (Where you always sat when you visited) while he sat beside his mother "Mother, this is Y/N, a very good friend of mine, and Y/N, this is my mother."
Gertrude eyed you up and down before giving giving you a sweet smile "Oh It's always nice to meet some of my Ozzie's friends!"
You stayed late into the night (at Oswald's insistence, not wanting you to leave just yet) watching a movie on the TV in his office. You looked at your phone to check the time. 1:45 am. shit. You got up, telling Oswald you really had to get home "I have work in the morning, I need at least some sleep before that." You chuckle softly. Oswald gave you a sad look "I wish you didn't have to..." He thought for a moment, how could he spend more time with you? He would have to think more on that later, now he had to focus on getting you home.
"Do you want me to drive you home?" He almost begged as you got up from the large office chair, turning off the TV.
You nodded, thankful for the offer "Yeah, that would be great, Gotham at night is pretty dangerous..." Oswald nearly jumped out of his chair, grabbing his keys from the hook beside the door.
In the car you two talked about your job and what you did and didn't like about it. "My boss is always mad about something so I try not to talk to him unless it's absolutely necessary, on the bright side my coworkers are really good at handling the situations I can't" you chuckle.
"Sounds like your boss needs a job change, or anger management classes" Oswald joked as he parked in the designated parking spot for your apartment (you didn't have a car so you didn't mind.) "Do you want me to walk you up?" He asked as he turned the key, shutting the car off.
"Why don't you just stay the night?"
(Part 2 coming soon)
24 notes · View notes
Text
Odd Hours//Getting Even
Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Warnings: Cursing; Fluff; slow burn but not nearly as slow as my usual slow burns. Notes: This is uh... I don’t know, I’ve had the idea kicking around in my head for a while. Also please excuse the film trivia. I will take any excuse to talk about The Man Who Came to Dinner. I couldn’t decide on which title would suit better so I named it both. Not beta-read. Summary: You’d never spoken to the your new neighbor before, just traded friendly waves… At the oddest times. 
Tumblr media
Your new neighbor looked very put together all of the time. Well… The couple of times that you’d seen him in passing. He was always in a suit, his tie was always straight, and his hair was always coiffed so neatly. You just assumed that he looked that good all the time. You’d seen him with a beard once, and then the next time you’d seen him, he was clean-shaven. He was gorgeous both ways, but that beard… Fuck, it had looked good. You’d never spoken to the guy before, just traded friendly waves… At the oddest times.
-- The first time you spoke to him was evidence of that. It was almost three in the morning. You’d just gotten off of work at one of your jobs at a bar. You stifled a yawn as you stepped off of the elevator and fished into your pocket for your keys. You managed to dislodge something on your way, but you didn’t notice. At least, not until you heard: “You dropped this.” You turned to see your neighbor holding out the foldable reusable bag you tended to keep in your pocket. “Oh!” You reached out, smiling, “Thank you-- I didn’t even notice.” “Sure,” He nodded, “We haven’t met, I’m in 5B.” “5A,” You jerked your thumb over your shoulder to your door. “Marcus Pike,” He held his hand out to you, and you shook it, giving him your name. “Long night?” You asked, and he chuckled, nodding. “Very.” The two of you linger for a moment longer before you nod over your shoulder, “I’ve got a couple of hungry cats to get to, so.” “Right,” Marcus nodded. “Nice to meet you.” “You, too.” You ducked into your apartment, shutting and locking the door behind yourself. You flicked the living room light on and tossed your keys into the bowl beside the door. You stepped further inside, smiling at the sight of your two Siamese cats, Princess and Pyewacket. They lifted their heads from where they were both lounging on the couch. “I met our neighbor,” You told them. Pyewacket got up, stretching before jumping off of the couch and following you into the kitchen. “Yes, he seemed very nice,” You answered the cat’s unasked question as you reached down, scratching his chin above the black moon and star patterned collar he had on. Princess slinked into the kitchen behind him, a matching pink collar around her neck. “And hello to you, too,” You murmured, “Let’s get you fed.” -- The next run-in was almost two weeks later. It was nearly noon, and you were coming off of your other job at a bookstore nearby. You ran into Marcus as he was leaving his apartment, and your brows rose. “Hi there,” he greeted, smiling. “Hey,” You shift your bag on your shoulder as you twirl your keys around your finger. “How are the cats?” You laughed a little, nodding, “They’re good. I won’t say they were happy to see me, but I fed them, so they tolerated my existence for another day.” You eyed his pristine-as-usual-suit. “Heading to work?” “Yeah, just came off of a late night. I actually just kinda...Came back to shower and change,” He absently swept his hand over his tie. “Oh, yikes,” Your brow furrowed, “What do you do?” “I work for the FBI, International Art Theft.” Your brows rose. “Wow.” “Surprised?”
“A little,” You admitted as you walked to your door, “I had my money on your being a lawyer.”
“Really?”
You lean back against your door, waving at him, “It was the suits.” 
He chuckled, “I should get going-- as long as you don’t have any stolen art in there.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you, now would I?” You teased, shooting him a wink, “Have a good day, Agent, and uh-- try to get some sleep at some point.”
--
It wasn’t every day that you got a knock on your door at two in the morning. Your hackles were immediately up, and you were quiet and careful as you crept toward your door. You peered through the peephole, frowning at the sight of Agent Pike-- And one of your cats. You hurriedly flicked your light on and opened the door. “Is, uh, this one of yours?”
“Pye,” You groaned, reaching out to take Pyewacket out of Marcus’ arms, “I’m sorry-- sometimes he slips out when I come in, and-- He’s such a weirdo, he always waits right out here.” You cuddled him close to your chest, smiling a little as Pyewacket pushed his head up against your chin. “Thank you,” You added, scratching Pye under the chin, “I hope he didn’t bug you.” “No, he was pretty friendly.” Your brows rose. That was rather unlike Pyewacket. “I’ll be honest, I was a little surprised to see you holding him-- Though that was more because, you know.” “It’s like two in the morning?” Marcus asked. You laughed, nodding. “Another late night for you, Agent?” “Slightly,” Marcus admitted before reaching out and scratching Pyewacket under the chin, “But I appreciated the welcoming committee.” You smiled, glancing down at the cat as Marcus’ fingers brushed yours. “Well, I’m glad Pye could be of assistance.” “‘Pye’?” Marcus repeated, leaning in your doorway, “Like the food?” “Oh, no. It’s short for Pyewacket,” You explained, shifting the cat in your arms. “Like in Bell, Book and Candle with uh-- Kim Novak and Jimmy Stewart?” He asked. You blinked up at Marcus in surprise. “Uh… Yeah,” You nodded, and laughed, “Sorry, just-- Most people don’t know that.” “I’m a fan of classic movies. --Who’s this?” Marcus looked down.
You followed his gaze, laughing, “Someone that was feeling left out. That’s Princess,” You smiled. You took a little bit of a step back as Marcus crouched down to pet her. You were suddenly acutely aware that you were in your pajamas and Marcus was still very...very suited. You couldn’t help but grin as he cooed over Princess, though. “I’m not gonna lie, you strike me as a dog guy,” You admitted. “Oh,” Marcus scooped Princess up, cradling her against his chest, “I do like dogs, don’t get me wrong, but my grandmother had a cat-- big fluffy Persian named Chester.” You were quiet for a moment, watching Marcus and Princess before you glanced into your apartment. “Do um--” You hesitated, “Do you wanna come in for a drink or something?” Frankly, standing across from a cute guy as you each held one of your cats had to be the weirdest way you had ever asked a man into your place. But it wound up with you and Marcus on your couch with a beer each having a shockingly nice conversation. You didn’t keep him long - you could tell it had been a long night for him and you didn’t want to keep him late - not to mention you had come off of a shift at the bar and you were pretty tired yourself.
Pike was out of there by 2:45 (though you’d gotten his number in your phone and yours in his by 2:42). Pyewacket trotted after him to the door. Marcus gave him one last scratch under his chin, one last look at you before he murmured, “Goodnight.”
--
Smitten was not the word you would use.  It was what you were, but you wouldn’t admit it. Hell, you barely knew the guy, had only met him a couple of times. But he seemed sweet-- and your cats liked him, that was a good sign. 
You tried not to reflect on the fact that that thought made you sound like your Great-Aunt Cecily.
You held off on using Pike’s phone number for about two weeks. Then one night, around 10:30, in the middle of a William Powell marathon on TCM, Pyewacket jumped off of your couch and trotted over to the front door. You frowned, watching him and muttering, “What the fuck, dude?” before you heard the jingling of keys. You smiled when you realized why he’d gotten up - and went out on a limb as you pulled your phone out and texted Pike:
-Either you just got home or the ghosts in the hallway are bothering my cat again
You raised your phone, snapping a quick picture of Pyewacket at the door before sending it off. You glanced down at the lone messages in the chat before you closed it, tossing your phone onto the couch cushion beside you. It didn’t stay there long, though-- it buzzed a moment later.
5B: You’ve got a great alarm cat
5B: Just how often do the ghosts in the hallway bother Pyewacket?
5B: And how many ghosts are we talking?
-Like once a week, they’re very mean to him.
-And at least two ghosts, I’m convinced
You put your phone down, figuring that that would be the end of it. You were wrong. 5B: They bug Princess, too?
-Nope, they don’t dare. No one fucks with Princess
-How’s work?
5B: Busy.  -Long day?
5B: Excruciatingly
-Sorry 😞
You winced, resting your head on your hand and considering.  Why did you use an emoji? You raised your phone and snapped a picture of Princess where she was curled up on your lap.
-You could take Princess with you next time if it’ll help?
5B: Might take you up on that. I’d prefer not to be fucked with tomorrow
You smiled. -I’ll see what I can do about a leash
5B: Very kind of you
-Anytime
--
5B: Okay, I don’t wanna be weird, but I feel like almost every time I come in around dinner time, whatever you get or are making smells delicious
You looked down at your phone as it buzzed and chuckled, picking it up from where you’d left it on the counter. 
-Not weird. Not to brag but I’m kinda the slow-cooker queen
You glanced at the slow-cooker, and the timer reading fifteen minutes left on the food you were making. It was a large batch - you’d wanted to have enough so that you could bring lunch to work at the bookstore. But there was enough to spare. You hesitated before texting,
-Hungry? 
--
Marcus brought wine, and stayed for three hours. The two of you ate dinner, did the washing up, and wound up on your couch watching It Happened One Night. Conversation flowed over most of it - you’d both seen it several times. The movie gave the two of you the chance to watch and weave in and out of conversation and film trivia without pressure. Pye and Princess curled up on the couch between you like sleepy little chaperones.
By the time he left, the bottle of wine that he’d brought was empty, and he had cat hair all over his pant legs.
“Thanks for dinner,” He turned around to face you as he stopped in the hall.
“Sure,” You leaned in your doorway, tucking your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants.
“I’ll have to have you over sometime, make us even.”
Your stomach flipped at the offer and you nodded, “I’d like that.”
--
“What’s got you out so late?”
“Work.”
“I’m guessing it’s the bar and not the bookshop?” Marcus asked as he watched you slouch against the wall of the elevator. You smiled a little tiredly. “I see those sharp skills aren’t just reserved for art thieves, Agent Pike.” He chuckled as the two of you stepped off at your floor. “What about you?” You asked. “Grabbed drinks with the team after work. We closed a case.” “Congratulations,” You smiled, “What happened?”
“It’s a slightly long story,” Marcus shrugged, “...Would you like to come in and hear about it?” “Gimme half an hour to shower and feed the babies and I’ll be right over.” --  “...Shit.” “What?” You lifted your head from his shoulder. Considering the last two times Marcus had been to yours, you hadn’t had any reservations about going over to Marcus’ in your comfy clothes. You’d shuffled over in your slippers, and when Marcus had opened the door, you’d held up a bottle of white wine. He’d grinned and told you it would pair well with the grilled cheese he was planning on making for the two of you. Without the cats between you, you and Marcus had settled close together on the couch. As the late night wore into early morning, you’d wound up tucked into his side as you talked. “It’s almost four,” He chuckled, looking away from his watch. “Oh,” You yawned widely, “I should let you get to bed.” “I’m the boss, I can get in a little late.” You smiled, tipping your head up and finding him watching you. “You don’t seem the type to abuse that power,” You teased. “Long as it doesn’t become a habit.” “Mm-mm,” You shook your head a little bit and sat up, “I don’t wanna be a bad influence. I save that for Pye and Princess.” “Can I walk you home?” You laughed and nodded as you and Marcus got up from the couch. You missed the warmth of him as soon as you were up, and you were so tempted to turn back toward him and cuddle into his chest-- if only to warm back up. You chatted a little more on your way to the door, and you tried not to overthink the way Marcus put his hand on your lower back as he opened the door for you. -- “Can you recommend a good book?” You didn’t look away from what you’re shelving, but you couldn’t help the slight flurry of butterflies in your stomach at the question. “That depends on what you’re looking for.” “Oh...Maybe something on classic film.” “That’s gonna be two aisles that way,” You nodded over your shoulder, “Back wall.” “Could you show me?” “You really don’t have anything better to do today, Agent Pike?” You teased. There was a pause before you heard him drifting closer to you. He peered over your shoulder, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmured, “Well, I was hoping I could take you to lunch, if you’ve got time.” “You trying to even out our meal score?”
You glanced up as he leaned against the shelf beside you and met your eyes. “I’m trying to spend more time with you,” He admitted, “If you’re interested.” You lowered your eyes to the books you were shelving, unable to help the smile that grew on your lips at his bluntness. “I’m interested.” 
-- 
Lunch ended with plans for Marcus to come over after your shift at the bar the following night. He dropped you back off at the bookstore and left you with a kiss on the corner of your mouth that you thought about for the rest of your shift. --
TCM was airing a Bette Davis marathon. By the time you got home, it was nearly 10:30. You showered, neatened up the apartment, cleaned as much cat hair off of the couch as you possibly could, and told Princess and Pyewacket to behave themselves. Princess blinked at you; Pyewacket flicked his tail. You texted Marcus that he could come over whenever he was ready, and there was a knock on the door ten minutes later. Marcus looked cozy in a way you hadn’t seen before - sweatpants and a t-shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and strong arms. You stepped back and nodded him in, and grinned as he crouched down, immediately scooping up Pyewacket as he came over. --
“You know, Bette Davis wanted John Barrymore to play Whiteside,” You were cuddled against Marcus’ chest; his arm was curled around your shoulders, fingers skimming along the strap of your tank top, “But he was drinking so heavily he couldn’t remember his lines. They wound up going with Monty Wooley-- he played Whiteside on Broadway, too.” “Really?” Marcus’ question was mumbled against your temple. You nodded a little. “Mhm. Cary Grant was set to play the role at one point, but Davis was so against it that he withdrew.” “Something tells me you like this movie.” You laughed, reaching out and absently picking off a piece of cat hair off of his sweatpants. When you’d disposed of it, you rested your hand on his knee lightly, giving him a chance to shake it off. Marcus just gave your shoulder a squeeze, and you gave his knee one in turn.
-- 
The two of you watched The Man Who Came to Dinner and All About Eve. “I’m worried that I’m setting a dangerous precedent for your sleep pattern,” You sighed as the credits rolled. It was almost half past three. “Mm, don’t worry about me,” He murmured, nuzzling into your neck. You closed your eyes, shivering a little bit. “...Do you wanna stay over?” You offered, raising your hand and lightly running your fingers along Marcus’ arm. “I’d like that.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “C’mon,” You urged, patting his thigh and standing. “Should we clean up?” Marcus stood with you, looking at the empty popcorn bowl and discarded cans of beer on the coffee table. “Nah, we can deal with it in the morning,” You took hold of his hand, leading him back to your room. Marcus glanced back toward your cats, to where Princess and Pyewacket were still settled on the couch. “Do the cats sleep with you?” He asked. “Sometimes.” “They gonna be mad if I shut your door?” “They’ll get over it.”
-- It was your alarm that woke you up. You leaned across Marcus, mumbling your ‘sorry’s and shutting it off. Once you did, you leaned back down, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes again. You smiled as his arm curled around your waist. “You need to go?” He mumbled. “No, just-- Forgot I had it set.” “Good.” You smiled, turning your head and nuzzling against his shoulder. “You sleep okay?” “Mhm,” He hummed, sliding his thumb along the hem of your shirt, “You should stay over at mine next time.” “So we’re even?” You blinked up at him as his fingers curled under your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. “Things aren’t always about getting even,” He smiled sleepily down at you. “What’s it about then?” “...Why’d you ask me to stay over?” You hesitated before you pushed yourself up to lean over him, “I thought you’d look good in my bed. And whaddaya know? I was right.” Marcus laughed, using the arm wrapped around you to draw you against his chest. “You know what I’ve been thinking about?” He asked. “Mm?” “Kissing you.” Heat curls in your stomach, tingling and pleasant. “Something stopping you?” You asked. The hand on your jaw slipped down to rest on the back of your neck. His eyes darted between your eyes and your lips for a few moments before he leaned up, brushing his lips against yours. You felt that spark grow in your stomach, and you dipped your head a little closer, chasing the chaste touch. You shifted, leaning more heavily against him and resting your hand on his chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, hooking in his collar. When he pulled you closer and turned, settling you down on your back, you went easily, letting your thighs splay so that he could lay between them. You moaned quietly as your kisses became warmer, more insistent. You wrapped an arm around Marcus’ shoulders, sighing as he slipped a hand under your shirt. And then you heard a yowl at your door. You groaned quietly, dropping your head back as Marcus laughed, resting his forehead against your neck. “I told them to behave,” You whined. “Don't blame them, this is on me. I should’ve kissed you last night,” Marcus murmured against your throat. You shivered, chuckling a little. “I should feed them before they do something rude like continue to yell... or throw up in your shoes.” “Would they do that?” “Oh, god yeah. I love Princess, but she’s an asshole.” --
You reached down, setting Pye’s food dish down for him and scratching him behind the ears as he began to eat. Princess was already halfway through her food. You glanced over at your phone as it buzzed on the counter and grinned when you saw who it was.
❤️5B: How’s unpacking?
-Nearly finished. A couple of boxes left. Pye was sleeping on a stack, so I couldn’t touch it.
❤️5B: No worries, baby. On my way home. Need anything?
-Cat food and popcorn. Humphrey Boggart marathon starts at 8
❤️5B: Takeout?
-Nope, got dinner covered. ❤️5B: You’re my favorite. -Don’t let Pyewacket hear you saying that. ❤️5B: Favorite human.
-Better. Btw some couple moved in across the hall. I think they have a dog?
❤️5B: I’ll make sure Pye doesn’t get out when I come in
Tag list: @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo; @fantasticcopeaglepasta; @paintballkid711
409 notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 4 years
Text
Protect & Serve IV (Steve Rogers x Reader)
Tumblr media
WARNINGS: Cop!Steve, cop antics, VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, NON-CON(FINGERING)
IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI
➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}
summary:  escaping an ugly past, you have no choice but to return home. While much has remained the same, Officer Rogers is a new addition who has won over the hearts of the town in your absence. And no one believes you when you start to see him for who he really is
~
You didn’t sleep at all that night. Not because someone was banging on your house and skulking about your yard, but rather…the opposite. He didn’t come, and you were left alone with no one but you and your thoughts. You didn’t even know why you weren’t referring to him by name.
Steve.
Steve Rogers.
Officer Steve Rogers.
Officer Rogers was the one who’d been making your nights a living hell for weeks, and the thought made you want to hurl. In fact, that was exactly what you did. As soon as you’d gathered yourself enough to stand, you’d run straight to the bathroom, throwing up for several minutes. Your vision was blurry, body trembling as you hugged the toilet.
Your mind whirled as you fought to make sense of everything. At first, you’d tried to convince yourself that your mind was doing that thing again. Coming up with the most outrageous theories, but the more you thought on it…the more sense it made.
Didn’t police respond to emergency calls based upon who was closest? Steve responded to every single one of your calls, and you remembered that sometimes he wasn’t alone. Was Officer Barnes in on it too? He had to be. They always came in the same car.
You suddenly jumped up, remembering that you’d given the dark-haired cop that blood sample. Steve’s blood sample. His best friend’s blood sample. You pressed your hand to your mouth, feeling like you were going to be sick again.
Officer Romanoff had said that the lab results could be back any day now, but… What if they had never been sent off to begin with? You wanted to cry, and with a start, you realized that you were. Tears were skipping down your face, and for the first time in a long time, you noted that they were tears from fear.
Should you go to the police?
You shook that thought from your mind. Your problem was the police, and what would happen to you if you ran in there to tell them about a crooked, possibly two, cop in their midst? Surely it would get back to Steve, and now knowing what you knew, there was no telling what the man was capable of.
You’d stayed up all night, stewing over what to do. You’d gone over every option there was, and it seemed that the best course of action was to simply leave town. God, you were so tired of running, but this situation was much different from your last.
Sure, Aldrich had money, and had definitely used it to his advantage when escaping the law, but even the luck of someone like him had to run out sometime. He wasn’t completely untouchable. Steve… Steve was the law. You could confront him, and he’d arrest you for whatever charge was believable, and there was no doubt in your mind who they’d be more inclined to listen to.
The thought that Steve could do whatever he wanted and get away with it was a terrifying one. Hell, he had been doing whatever he wanted and had gotten away with it. More tears collected behind your eyes, thinking about the fact that he’d been harassing you during the day and the night. He’d pretty much been in control of every facet of your daily life, and you wondered to yourself…
What did he want?
Was he truly so angry that you’d turned him down? You let out a humorless chuckle, thinking to yourself that you should’ve just gone on the stupid date to save yourself all of this strife. Another part of you argued against that, telling you there was no telling what would have happened on that date or what would have happened after.
It was in the early hours of the morning, and you were packing now. You’d finally made up your mind to just get the hell out of dodge. You didn’t have time to pack up everything and properly move, so a suitcase worth of clothes would do until you sorted everything out. You’d stay in a hotel for a while, whatever it took to get away from him.
You contemplated going by the diner first to see Wanda. You didn’t want a repeat of last time. You wanted to keep in touch, but you decided that your safety came first. You could always look the phone number to the diner up and reconnect with her later. You had just locked up your house, turning towards your car with your suitcase in hand, when a police cruiser pulled into your yard.
Your heart stopped, and you tightened your grip on the handle of your suitcase. Relief did not fill you when none other than Officer Barnes stepped out of the car. You swallowed, warily eyeing him. You were almost positive that he was in on it with Steve. You weren’t sure, but the evidence was damning.
He sent you a friendly smile as he approached you, and you did not return it.
He never smiled at you.
“Morning, Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted.
“Morning,” you mumbled back.
He stopped at the bottom of your steps, lifting one foot to rest on the bottom step as he looked up at you, blue eyes unreadable. You watched the way they traveled from your face to your suitcase and back.
“Going somewhere?”
You thought about telling him the truth, knowing he’d relay it to Steve, thinking that it would make him happy to see you go, but… You didn’t exactly know why Steve was doing this to you. You didn’t know his motive nor his endgame, so maybe it was best to keep him in the dark.
“Not anytime soon,” you joked, forcing a chuckle. “I’m just going to drop some things off at Goodwill…”
The dark-haired man hummed, nodding as he studied you.
“What brings you here so early in the morning?” you casually asked, moving to walk past him.
“Truthfully…Steve,” he answered.
You frowned, heart skipping a beat, and you were glad that your back was to him as you made your way to your car.
“Steve?” you wondered over your shoulder.
Bucky hummed.
“He was worried about you. Said you seemed pretty upset yesterday…”
You slid your suitcase into the backseat, pursing your lips before shutting the door and turning to face him.
“Upset?” you repeated.
You didn’t like the way he eyed you, and it was then that you knew… Your suspicions were correct. There seemed to be an unspoken battle between you two, both of you trying to figure the other out, seeing who’d slip up first. You had been through this a million times with Aldrich…
“He said that you…seemed confused and distraught…accusing him of some pretty awful things…”
You blinked, lips parting before letting out a soft scoff.
“Oh my God, you’re right. I did,” you guiltily replied. “I’ve been so stressed lately, and Officer Rogers has been nothing but kind to me, and I completely misinterpreted it.”
Bucky appeared to be shocked by your response.
“I’m still working through things, trying to undo a lot of what my ex-husband did. I took it out on Officer Rogers, and I feel terrible.”
He didn’t respond right away, simply eyeing you before slowly nodding. You turned to slide into your driver’s seat, glancing up at him with a small smile.
“Will he be working today? I’d really like to apologize to him properly. If not, I suppose that I can go up to his house later,” you offered.
He ran his eyes over you, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards ever so slightly.
“No…he isn’t in today,” he eventually replied.
“Then I’ll stop by his house later then. If not later then definitely in the morning,” you told him.
The two of you just stared at each other for a moment before he smiled at you.
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. Drive safe, Ms. Y/L/N.”
He moved to leave, and you stopped him.
“I also wanted to ask you about the blood sample I gave you. Officer Romanoff said that the results should be back any day now, and I was wondering if they’d come in yet…”
He sadly shook his head.
“I’m afraid not. The ETA for these things are never exact, anyway. I’m sure we’ll get the results back soon though,” he answered, but you didn’t believe him.
You nodded, and he bid you goodbye one last time. He closed your door for you, and you looked in your mirror, watching him go back to his car. He sat in it for a while, but you sighed in relief when he eventually drove off. You closed your eyes, hands gripping the wheel as you forced yourself to take a deep breath.
Bucky was in on it too. You were absolutely sure of it. Forcing both him and Steve from your mind, you went to start your car, only to frown when it sputtered. You twisted your key again, but again, it wouldn’t start.
“No, no, no,” you murmured, forcing yourself to remain calm.
You tried again, and sure enough, you got the same results. You bit your lip, swallowing down a scream. Something within you knew why your car wouldn’t start, knew who was responsible. You took out your phone, looking up the number for the auto repair shop with shaky hands.
30 minutes later, you were watching your car being hooked up to the tow truck. When the man was finished, he approached you. A smile was on his face, and he was clearly trying to ease your worries.
“It shouldn’t take long to determine the problem and have it back here,” he told you.
“About how long do you think it’ll take?”
He hummed, thinking.
“There are already two other cars at the shop. After getting done with them and finally fixing yours, I should be able to have it back here no later than…7:30? 7:45?”
It seemed like you didn’t have much choice but to accept that, so what else could you do besides nod? At least you’d be able to get out of here tonight at the latest. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you watched the man drive away. You felt like a sitting duck, but you had no other option but to go inside.
The first hour dragged by. You tried to distract yourself with cleaning and then some tv, but eventually you gave up and just sat on the couch. You couldn’t believe that you were running again, that you had somehow found yourself in a possibly worst situation than the one you’d left.
By the second hour, you were restless. You grabbed your purse and rose from the couch, swiftly locking the door on the way out. You had made sure that all of the lights were off, and everything was unplugged. You wouldn’t be going back inside.
Ever thankful that the diner was within walking distance from your house, you strode into the establishment with a sigh. Still rather early, it was pretty empty inside. Wanda was nowhere to be found, so you took a seat in the corner. You’d been scrolling through your phone for about 5 minutes when the bell above the door dinged.
You didn’t think anything of it. However, you looked up when the customer spoke. He was at the counter, back facing you as he talked to Wanda who’d finally come from the back. A black leather jacket adorned his large frame, the color contrasting with his fair hair. Swallowing, you looked away just as he turned around, eyes falling to your phone.
Your heart went crazy beneath your chest as you heard him approach. You wondered if he’d talked to Bucky, because if so, that would alter how you interacted with him in the next 30 seconds. When he got close enough, you looked up, seemingly just noticing him, and you threw him a small smile.
“Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted, demeanor giving no indication of what had transpired yesterday.
“Officer Rogers,” you replied. “I’m glad you’re here…”
He hummed, placing a hand on the chair across from you, the other on his hip.
“Yeah, I came down to pick up something to go. The boss is still forcing me to stay home.”
You swallowed, nodding.
“I actually wanted to apologize to you, Officer Rogers,” you said.
You didn’t register any type of surprise in his eyes. He looked completely unfazed, demeanor remaining the same, and you knew that he’d already spoken with Bucky, confirming what you’d suspected. Still, you continued.
“With everything going on, I’m just so stressed and stretching myself far too thin. Not to mention, I haven’t even been divorced for 6 months. There’s a lot that I’m still dealing with, and I took that out on you in probably the worst way possible,” you explained. “You’ve only ever tried to help me.”
He smirked, and you wanted to wipe it from his face.
“There’s no hard feelings. I completely understand,” he said, pulling the chair out and taking a seat.
You forced yourself not to frown at that. He reached out, with his left hand you noted, to brush a finger along your clasped hands on the table, and you tensed.
“I told you before, if there’s ever anything that you need to talk about, I’m here to listen. I want you to feel as comfortable around me as everyone else in this town,” he quietly added.
You slowly pulled your hands back to rest them on your lap, watching the way his brow twitched ever so slightly. You’d dealt with men like him before. Your ex-husband did that, usually when in public, a tell-tale sign that he was unhappy. They seemed to be more alike than you originally thought.
Before you could respond to that, Wanda was calling for him, letting him know that his food was ready. He sent you one last smile before rising and leaving you alone once again. Wanda strode over as soon as he was gone, a grin on her face.
“You two looked cozy,” she said. “What brings you by so early in the morning?”
“My car is in the shop, so I’m just killing time,” you answered, ignoring her quip about you and Steve.
“Hope everything’s okay with it,” she earnestly replied, handing you a menu. “So, are you going to order anything? I’ll make it on the house.”
“Oh, Wanda, you don’t have to do that,” you said, waving her off.
“Don’t be silly, Y/N, it’s nothing! You’ve had such a horrible string of bad luck lately, the least I can do is try to cheer you up…”
Reluctantly, you accepted her offer, and roamed your eyes over the menu.
Tumblr media
When you strode into your yard it was around 7. Sure enough, like the man had said earlier, around 7:45 in the evening, your car was being parked alongside your curb. He mentioned that something had been wrong with the battery and that it hadn’t taken long at all to fix. He didn’t say it outright, but the way he spoke made you believe he thought someone had tampered with it. You believed so too, but you didn’t tell him that.
15 minutes later, you were on the road and making your way out of town. You didn’t exactly have a plan. For now, you looked to stay at the first hotel you could find in another city, staying in a room there for a while to consider your next course of action.
Never in a million years did you think something like this could happen to you, and in your tiny hometown no less. You shook your head, thinking about how Officer Rogers had everyone fooled. You wondered what else he’d gotten away with? Surely, he didn’t just wake up one morning with a change of heart and decided to torment you. People usually do what they know they can get away with, right?
You’d only been driving for maybe 25 minutes when your car suddenly stalled. Your eyes widened, and you rushed to turn the key, hoping that maybe it was a minor problem that would solve itself. You moved to turn it back on, but it only spluttered. Again, you tried, but the engine wouldn’t start, and your heart sank.
You glanced around along the long stretch of road, noting that no cars were around, and you doubted any would be anytime soon. It was getting dark, now, and worry filled you. You weren’t completely out of town yet, hadn’t even crossed the city limits, but there was no way you could walk anywhere. You were too far out, and you’d be crazy to.
You wanted to cry, but you forced the tears back, telling yourself that you had to think smart about this. You tried the ignition again, but like before, the engine wouldn’t start. You considered getting out to look under the hood, but you weren’t very familiar with the inside of a car. You knew to check the oil and knew when to put more freon in the car, but that was about it. Besides, you’d seen enough horror films to know to sit your ass in your car.
However, your location was a problem. You were, quite literally, in the middle of the road. Granted, if someone came up from behind you, it wasn’t like they couldn’t see you, but still. You didn’t like just sitting here. You took out your phone, thankful for your carrier because you actually had a few bars surrounded by all of these trees.
You were in the process of looking up the number to the diner, preparing to call Wanda, when red and blue suddenly surrounded you. Fear gripped you as you jerked your head up, confirming that there were definitely lights flashing from behind you. You dropped your phone in your lap as you turned around. A police cruise was parked on the side of the road behind you, and you felt your body grow numb for several different reasons.
What if it was Steve? You were alone out here, no one around to witness anything that could happen. The thought made you want to vomit. On the other hand, what if it wasn’t Steve? The thought still made you want to be sick because, again, you were alone out here…
You turned back around just as the door opened, taking a deep breath. Forcing your eyes up, you looked into the rearview mirror, only to sigh in relief, the tension easing from your shoulders. The cop walked up to your door, and luckily, your window was already halfway down when your car stopped. His dark eyes met yours, a friendly smile on his lips.
“Officer Wilson,” you breathed, hoping the relief wasn’t too obvious in your voice.
You’d never known him to be anything but nice. Besides, he never came with Steve to your house, so you long guessed that he wasn’t in on it with Steve and Bucky. You would’ve been more relieved had it been Officer Romanoff, but he would do. You wondered how he’d react if he knew what his friends were up to.
“Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted. “Car trouble?”
“Yes,” you told him. “It just…it just stopped. I’ve tried to start it a couple of times, but nothing.”
He hummed.
“Going somewhere?”
You contemplated on whether or not to be truthful, but eventually you nodded.
“Just out of town. I have some things to do,” you kept it vague.
He nodded with a frown, eyes trailing over your car.
“You want me to take a look under the hood for you?” he offered.
“Would you? I’d appreciate that so much,” you answered.
He chuckled.
“Sure thing! Just let me get my flashlight out of the car,” he told you.
You frantically nodded, and he walked away. You wrung your hands together as you waited for him. You absentmindedly glanced around, and your eyes flickered over your passenger side mirror. You froze, frowning a bit as you questioned what you saw. Slowly, you flickered your eyes back to the passenger mirror, and they widened.
There, in the passenger seat of the police cruiser, was none other than Officer Barnes. Your lips trembled, heart hammering within your chest as you watched him talk to Sam, eyes on you. You could tell that he couldn’t see you looking at him through the mirror. You brought your eyes up to the rearview mirror, watching as Sam animatedly said something to him. You looked back to see Bucky doing the same. They seemed to be arguing about something.
Adrenaline on high, it took everything in you to keep your movements slow. You turned the ignition, but you were met with the same results as last time. You swallowed, tears collecting in your eyes now as you tried again.
“Come on, come on,” you quietly pleaded.
You looked up and watched in horror as both doors of the cruiser opened. Shaking your head, you turned the key again, hard, and gasped when your car roared to life. You heard Sam yell your name, but your foot was already pressing on the gas.
It wasn’t long before you heard the cruiser behind you, closing the distance. You were terrified to press your foot all the way down. You wanted to escape them, but you also didn’t want to die in the process. You forced your tears back, already hard enough to see as it is in the darkness. Your brights were on, but with the cruiser’s lights directly behind you, they weren’t much help.
You screamed when their bumper tapped the back end of your car. They did it again, and your fingers tightened on the wheel. You could see them coming up beside you, and before they had a chance to get level with your car, you slammed on the breaks. They flew past you before eventually slamming on breaks too. By the time they moved to turn around, you had already hit a U-Turn and were in the process of driving away.
Unfortunately, there was one thing that you hadn’t counted on.
Your car swerved when a gunshot rang out, the sound of your tire exploding not far behind. You struggled to take control of the car, realizing with horror that you were swerving off of the road and into the trees. You missed the first couple, but you shrieked when the side of your car grazed another. Your ran over fallen limbs and even a fallen trunk, roughly turning your wheel as not to come in contact with one head on.
It seemed that you were destined to do just that though. Your eyes widened at the large tree up ahead, and, in a panic, you jerked your wheel to the left, wincing when the right side of your car hit the tree instead, glass shattering. You released a shaky breath, pressing your hand to your head. Through the haze, you noted that you didn’t hear the cruiser approaching, but that just meant they were on foot.
With shaky hands, you struggled to open your car door. You slid out and fell to the ground, slowly pushing yourself onto your hands and knees, telling yourself to move faster. One hand on the car, you pulled yourself to your feet. Your vision swam as you stumbled through the trees, tripping over limbs and holding onto trunks as you passed them.
Your vision was starting to spin, and you shook your head, trying clear it. You could hear some fallen branches loudly snapping from behind you, and fear struck you. They didn’t even care to be stealthy, confident that they’d get you either way.
“Y/N!”
Your stomach churned at the way Bucky sang your name, the sound echoing around you in the darkness. They were closer than you thought, because you heard Sam say something to him that you couldn’t make out, and Bucky chuckled in response, that too echoing around you.
Unable to see where you were going, your foot landed in a hole, and you gasped as your ankle bent. You crashed to the ground, hitting your head, and your chest heaved. The footsteps were closer now, and you rolled over to crawl away just as a foot landed on your injured ankle.
You cried out, and someone’s hand wrapped around your arm, turning you over onto your back. You could make them out in the darkness, and you kicked your uninjured leg, hands swinging as you fought them off. You heard Sam grunt as your foot connected with his knee, and he stumbled back. Fed up, Bucky’s hand found your throat, pinning you to the ground as he straddled you, and you spit in his face.
He tightened his grip at that, and you whimpered.
“He wants her unharmed, Buck,” Sam reminded him, and the blue-eyed man scoffed.
“Yeah, well, maybe he should’ve gone after a girl with a little less fire-.”
His words were cut off by his yelp, and you dug your nails deeper into his face. Your other hand swung towards his neck, but his free hand caught it before you could do any damage, slamming your wrist to the ground.
“Damnit, Sam! Her hand! Grab her hand,” he snarled, struggling to keep you pinned beneath him, the haze finally clearing from your mind.
Your other hand was ripped away from him and held to the ground. He let go of your throat, and you bucked against him as he reached for something in his jacket. You couldn’t see what it was, not just because it was dark, but because tears were blurring your vision. He pressed it to your face, and you cried harder when you realized that it was a rag. It smelled funny, and you could guess what was soaking it.
You renewed your struggle, but they simply tightened their grip, Bucky pressing down harder on you as he did the same with the rag. You found it hard to breathe, and your body started to feel light. Sam shushed you, and that was the last thing you heard, Bucky’s blue eyes the last thing you saw before everything went dark.
Tumblr media
The next time you drifted back into the land of semi-consciousness, you could feel that you were sprawled out on the backseat of a car. Your head lolled to the side as the car curved, and you could feel that you were being driven up a hill. You must have gone back to sleep for a few minutes because the next thing you felt was hands sliding underneath you, lifting you out of the car.
Your arms hung limp in the air, as did your head, and you frowned as you heard some muffled commotion. A tv was on, turned to the highest setting it seemed because even outside, you could hear that a football game was being watched. There were a few loud cheers that reached your ears, and you groaned.
A door was opened, the commotion quieting down, and a shift in the air told you that you were no longer outside. Even in your state, you realized that this wasn’t good, and your heart raced, frustration coursing through you because you couldn’t move.
“Is that her?” you heard an unfamiliar voice quietly ask, the deep baritone reaching your ears.
You felt, rather than heard, someone stomp towards you, and you groaned when they grabbed your ankle.
“What did I say, Bucky?”
You felt bile rise in your throat at the familiar voice, lips trembling as this confirmed everything that you already knew.
“That wasn’t me. She stepped in a hole when she was running away…”
Steve heaved a sigh, and whatever happened next was wordless because you felt Bucky start to walk. You slipped back under again just as his first foot stepped up onto some stairs. Darkness greeted you, mind conjuring up images that had you frowning.
Your mind was plagued with thoughts of Killian, but he eventually morphed to Steve. Falsely warm smiles and eyes that hid true intentions. His silhouette stood in every corner, laughing as you spun with a gun in hand, always just missing him. His laughter grew louder until it was all you could hear, and you shot up with a gasp.
The room that you were in was bathed in low light from the lamp on the other side. It was a modest size, but not tiny by any means. Your head still felt fuzzy, and you blinked a few times, attempting to clear it as you shook your head to the side. Your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you, and you realized that you were sitting on a bed.
Laughter grabbed your attention, the same laughter you heard in your sleep, and you realized that must have been what woke you up. You slid off of the bed, careful to do so without making any noise, and you hesitantly walked to the door. You tried the knob, but it seemed to be locked from the outside. You pressed your ear to the door and frowned at what you heard.
“Touchdown,” that same deep voice from before yelled, and you heard a thud before a small crash followed.
You heard several cries of protest, and with wide eyes, you realized that the house was full of men.
“Really, brother. Must you always be such a brute,” a smooth voice said.
You swallowed, taking a step back as your jaw clenched, hands curling into fists. How could they be enjoying something like a football party downstairs as if you hadn’t just been kidnapped and carried through the room…minutes…hours before?
With a huff, you spun around, looking over the room. You still felt a bit out of it, but you were coherent enough to realize you needed to get the hell out of here. Fast. Your eyes fell onto the window on the other side of the bed, and you hurried towards it. You bit your lip as you confirmed that you were on the second floor. The room that you were in was on the backside of the house because your eyes landed on the lake, and you grimaced.
With difficulty, you opened the window and looked down. There was more than enough room to hit the ground without hitting the lake, and you looked around. With disappointment, you realized there was nothing for you to climb onto…until you looked up. You stared at the ledge of the roof for a while before making up your mind.
You pulled your head back inside and ran to the dresser across from the bed. Swiftly, but quietly, you pulled all of the drawers out, neatly stacking them on the bed. The dresser was much lighter and much easier to push in front of the door now. When you were done, you paused, listening for any indication that they heard you, but the television was blaring, and there was some yelling at the screen. You quickly slid the heavy drawers back inside.
Stepping onto the window sill was a struggle, and not just because of your bruised ankle. You held onto the house with one hand, the other reaching up to grip the ledge of the roof. Without hesitation, you swung and clasped your other hand onto the ledge too. Your upper body strength was severely lacking, but it was enough.
Somehow, you shuffled around the house, away from the back patio and living room. You could see a tree coming up on your left, the large trunk brushing against the house, limbs and branches sticking out over and against the side. You reached for one of the limbs with one hand just as you placed a foot on a limb beneath that one. You followed suit with the other hand and hissed in pain when your injured foot joined your other one.
With difficulty, and much slower than you would have liked, you climbed down, gently lowering yourself to the ground. Before you were nothing but trees. You could see the start of the driveway to your right, and the ominous lake called to you on your left.
Your best chance of escape was getting to the other side of the lake. If you could get to the other side without being noticed, you’d practically be home free. However, trying to swim across a lake that size with a drugged-out brain, injured ankle, and fatigue-ridden body was a suicide mission. You could easily drown.
With a grimace, you stepped into the thick trees before you. You needed to get back to the road, but eventually, when they caught onto your absence, the road and nearby areas is the first place they’d look. Part of you thought that there was no use in trying. Your body was weak, and you were currently limping through the forest. You were like an injured deer trying to outrun a pack of wolves as they slept.
Eventually…they’d wake up.
The night was cool, and you started to shiver. When you left, you’d only had on some jeans and a thin long-sleeved shirt. Your jacket had been next to you in the passenger seat. Had you known you were going to be kidnapped and then forced to escape your kidnappers, you would’ve put it on. You heard a howl far off in the distance, and with a start, you remembered that Steve wasn’t the only thing you had to hide from.
You didn’t know how long you had been walking, but when you reached a small clearing, moonlight shining down on you, you were forced to admit it to yourself. You were lost. It wasn’t like you had been walking in circles, so you weren’t concerned about accidentally making your way back to the house. In fact, you were proud to say that you’d made a lot of headway.
Just when you thought that your fatigue would get the best of you, spotted lights far off in the distance. They weren’t stars. You figured that the nearest neighbor had to be miles away, so it didn’t hit you how much you had walked until that moment. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, leaning against a tree. You pushed yourself off of it just as you heard a noise from behind you.
It was so faint, and you blinked, thinking that you had imagined it. You took a step forward, and you heard it again. Feeling like you’d been punched in the stomach, you realized that it was shouts. Several of them reaching your ears, yelling a name that was all too familiar to you: yours.
Paying no mind to your injured ankle, you took off into a sprint. Your fatigue was long forgotten, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You could hear the shouts getting closer, and you realized that they had begun running too. One of them was faster than the rest, footfalls pounding against the earth as they fought to catch up to you.
You wouldn’t make it. The realist in you knew this, and you bent over as you ran, swiping up a thick bat sized limb. You heard him just behind you, and you spun, swinging it across his face. His head snapped to the side, and he fell to his knees, clutching his face. You looked up, realizing that the rest had almost caught up to you now, and took off again.
The broken branch was heavy in your arms, slowing you down, and it wasn’t long before you were caught up to again. Only this time when you swung, it was caught in an iron grip. Bucky snatched it from you with one hand while the other swung at you. You brought your foot up in between his legs just as his palm connected with your face.
You both went down, but as you went to crawl away, his hand clasped around your injured ankle. You yelped, clawing at the dirt as he pulled you back. With your other foot, you kicked him in the face, and he let go with a grunt.
You pushed yourself to your feet, but you were knocked down again, this figure much stronger, and you knew that it was the first man you’d hit. You struggled beneath him, screaming as he pinned your wrists at the small of your back. He yanked you up with ease, and you kicked behind you, but he easily avoided your assault.
He jerked you upright, and the other hand fisted into your hair as he made you look straight ahead. Bucky was struggling to stand, blue eyes cold as they gazed at you, and you returned the look, chest heaving. Another unfamiliar man was slowly making his way over with Sam, his green eyes twinkling with mischief, a sly smirk on his pink lips. The man behind you chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through his chest and into your back.
“I like this one,” he finally said, out of breath. “She’s a fighter…”
He didn’t seem bothered by it though. In fact, you’d say he enjoyed the chase.
“Like this one all you want, but this one isn’t yours.”
You tensed at the sound of a familiar voice coming from the shadows. His footsteps grew louder, and you saw the white of his shirt through the trees first. You moved in the harsh hold you found yourself in, and the man behind you shook you, casing you to flinch and hold still. You licked your lips, tasting blood, and you threw a glare towards Bucky.
Steve took his time getting to you, blond hair in disarray as he approached. The tight short-sleeved tee clung to him, and you narrowed your eyes at the healing wound on his right arm. He caught your gaze, and a smirk fell over his lips.
“You did get me good, sweetheart,” he said once close enough, impressed. “You could’ve killed me. I wasn’t expecting that.”
You didn’t respond, simply glaring at him as he stopped to stand before you. He looked down his nose at you before his gaze flickered to that of the man holding you.
“Let her go, Thor,” Steve told him.
“But she’ll-.”
“She won’t run away. You guys go back to the house. You might still be able to catch the end of that last game,” he interrupted.
Reluctantly, the man behind you, Thor, let you go, and the blood rushed back to your hands. You almost wanted to beg them to stay. You didn’t know what Steve would do to you now that you were alone…in the middle of nowhere…
He reached for your face, and you jerked away. He reached for it again, quicker this time, and gripped your chin harshly in his hand. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, wiping away the blood there, and he hummed.
You glanced down just before bringing your leg up, but seemingly anticipating that, Steve closed his own legs around your ankle. He twisted his body, causing you to fall on your side. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you back as he lowered to his knees. You pulled against his hold, but you felt him press his knees to the back of your legs, keeping you in place.
One arm grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you up until you were on your own knees, back pressed against his front while one hand slid around you to lock your arms in place at your side. It all happened so quickly, and you struggled in his hold. His heart beat perfectly steady in his chest while yours threatened to jump out at any moment. He brushed his lips over your ear, and you closed your eyes.
“You’ve got two options...,” he started. “I can give you this…”
You opened your eyes just in time to see him bring a syringe before your eyes, and they widened in fear, heart skipping a beat.
“It’ll help you sleep,” he murmured. “…and we both know you need the rest after the day you’ve had.”
You jerked against him, but he tightened his hold, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“However…if I gave you this, I could do anything I wanted to you. I mean, I won’t because that’s not really my style, but all you have is my word on that,” he whispered, breath fanning over your skin.
You stared at the ground, tears spilling over now.
“Or…we could stand up, and we could walk back to the house like two civilized adults. Its entirely up to you…”
“Why are you doing this to me?” you finally asked him.
He tsk’d at that.
“Make a decision,” he demanded, voice dropping.
With trembling lips, you told him that you’d walk. He sharply inhaled, seemingly pleased with the answer as he put the syringe away. He loosened his grip, but your relief was short-lived as he quickly snapped handcuffs onto your wrists. He tightened them, and you winced, gasping when one hand dug into your arm, the other sliding over your breasts.
A new fear clung to your frame as he fondled you, hands sliding down your shirt, fingers dancing along the edge of your jeans.
“No,” you protested, trying, and failing, to lean away from him.
He slid his hands past the waistband and into your underwear, fingers grazing over you. The hand that was on your arm slid up to your throat, tightly wrapping around it to pull your head back. His lips pressed to the skin just below your jaw, and you trembled as he slowly slipped a finger inside of you.
“Steve, please-.”
“Say my name again,” he groaned, sliding a finger in and out of you before adding another.
“Stop,” you choked out, fighting to put as much space between you as possible.
He simply hummed, pushing his fingers into you past the knuckle, curling them inside of your now slick core. You gasped, and he turned your head to the side, pressing his lips against yours and forcing his tongue past your lips. He moaned into your mouth as he worked his hand in between your legs, the lewd sounds reaching your ears.
The palm of his hand kept brushing against your bundle of nerves, and you felt yourself clench around him. Steve chuckled into your mouth, a grin on his lips. You tried to move your head away, but he kept you in place, moving his mouth against yours again.
You shook in his arms as your walls fluttered around his fingers, and your vision went fuzzy, a choked moan being pulled out of you. Steve swallowed it down, and you didn’t even notice that he’d released your neck, eyes widening when you felt a pinch.
He held you still as he pulled the needle out of your neck, and your reaction was instantaneous. You collapsed in his arms, and he was more than happy to hold you, blue eyes boring into your own as you fought to keep them open. You watched as he brought his fingers up and wrapped his lips around them. He kissed you, and you tasted yourself. His lips brushed over yours as he spoke, reaching under you to undo the cuffs.
“You don’t know how badly I want to take you, right now…”
You struggled in his arms now that yours were free, but your movements were sluggish, and you felt weighed down. He held you in his arms as he stood, your arms swinging limply.
“…but someone might think that I was killing you.”
Your head fell back as sleep claimed you.
~
tags:  @xoxabs88xox​ @darkficreposter   @mcudarklibrary @captainchrisstan​ @nickyl316h​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @harryspet​ @readermia​ @sebabestianstan101​ @villanellevi​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @coconutqueen21​ @briannab1234​ @stargazingfangirl18​   @lou-la-lou​ @izzfizzh​ @thatgirly81​ @autty0314​ @hinata7346​
751 notes · View notes
curly-bangtan · 4 years
Note
30🆘33🆘34 AAAAAAAAAAAAA 🥳🥳🥳🥳
#30: “you’re secretly so soft, don’t even deny it.”
#33: “let me kiss your pouty lips.”
#34: “okay that’s it, you’re definitely my soulmate.”
A/N: @taexxxiiaa means with Heatwave!Taehyung loll she got too excited…! Any fic member drabbles are non-canon so this could have happened in the Heatwave world but only hypothetically/possibly!!
Tumblr media
.
“Fuck.” Taehyung looks at his phone screen as it lights up so blindingly bright after plugging it into the charger. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. FUCK!”
[23 unread message]
-23:01-
Roommate hoe: yo wya
-23:05-
Roommate hoe: y u always late
Roommate hoe: u better be on ur way
-23:14-
Roommate hoe: bitch where r u
-23:16-
Roommate hoe: kim taehyung
Roommate hoe: taehyung kim
Roommate hoe: hyung kim tae
-23:17-
Roommate hoe: can u at least reply
-23:19-
Roommate hoe: im getting so pissy
-23:20-
Roommate hoe: n cold
-23:29-
Roommate hoe: where the fuck r u
-23:31-
Roommate hoe: u better not be dead in a ditch somewhere or i killu
-23:33-
Roommate hoe: answer ur phone
-23:45-
Roommate hoe: 45 mins late
Roommate hoe: no sex for u tonight
Roommate hoe: i’m rly mad @ u
Roommate hoe: i’m sleeping with someone else tn
-23:49-
Roommate hoe: istg if u forgot our anniversary
-23:50-
Roommate hoe: is ur phone dead again
-00:00-
Roommate hoe: 1 hour
Roommate hoe: i’m rly fucking mad right now.
Roommate hoe: TAEHYUGN
Roommate hoe: u r dead to me.
[8 miss calls from Roommate hoe]
Taehyung is scared for his life. And then he hears the keys rattle at the front door and his heart drops ten storeys more from the purgatory it had already fallen to. He has never experienced fear like the fear of your wrath, fiery as dragon’s breath and as potent as the venom of a scorpion. He chucks his phone onto his bed, anchored by the charger wire to the wall. And he quietly, cautiously, creeps out from his room.
Okay, you look really fuck hot. In your skin tight leather pants and black mesh top that allows some skin to peak through.
If it wasn’t for the pure rage carved onto your face like you’re some Halloween mask, he would pounce over like a wolf and fuck you on the couch. Except you’re practically breathing out fire through your nose, absolutely seething, arms crossed at the sight of him.
“M-My died phon- My phone died.” He stutters out like a poor kindergarten boy explaining to his teacher that he’d left his homework at home but he promises he did it.
“How. Many. Times. Did. I. Tell. You. To. Pack. Your. Charger. In. Your. Fucking. Bag.” You grit each syllable out so hard that your jaw almost hurts. Gulping, Taehyung watches you shake your heels off and kick them away harder than you need to.
“I’m so so so sorry I forgot, Y/N. I got so carried away at the library, it just completely slipped my mind.” It’s extremely brave of him, you have to say, for him to take those long strides towards you.
“You forgot? We literally were texting about it this afternoon! How the fuck can you forget? It’s our friendship anniversary! We do this ever fucking year!” Taehyung flinches as your volume raises. You almost regret it. But then you remember how fucking cold and embarrassed you were, waiting outside for a whole hour for his dumb ass to show up.
Every year, the two of you like to celebrate the night you had first met at the club. It’s a tradition for you to go to this club together and have a blast of a night, just the two of you, no inviting other friends, no sleeping with anyone else, and then end it with chicken and beer at the local 24hr Korean fried chicken place. It’s tradition!
And because Taehyung just so happen to have coursework due at midnight tonight, he had spent the whole day at the library rushing his project and promised to meet you there. It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed your mind that he would be late; you had had an inkling that he would somehow goof it up and maybe show up 20 minutes past 11 or something. But you didn’t know that he would forget about it entirely.
Fucking ouch.
“Hey, I’m really honestly so tremendously awfully,” he inhales, “extremely terribly immensely appallingly very very sorry. I’m sorry. I fucked up and I have no excuse.”
You stare at him, hand gripping the plastic bag containing something that he doesn’t deserve but you got for him anyway. Fuck the frown lines you’re going to get, you’re gonna frown as much as you fucking can at him. He’s got those wide apologetic puppy eyes, trying to convey his genuine contrite and guilt.
Fuck his stupid puppy eyes.
“Okay. Good night.” You heedlessly toss the bag at him, watching him fumble to catch it in surprise as you walk past him to you room, purposely not making any more eye contact.
To your relief but also annoyance, he’s too busy revealing the contents of the bag to chase after your heel. You don’t slam your door, but you do shut it loud enough to convey how much you’re fuming.
God, you feel like an idiot.
You were just standing there in front of the club, waiting for an hour. So many people you know walked by as well, asking you how come you’re not going in yet. You should have just went in with them.
Taehyung is infuriating sometimes. On good days, he’s cute and ditsy, on bad days, he’s clumsy, incapable, forgetful, careless, unreliable and absent-minded. It really is as if you’re his mother sometimes.
Disgruntled, you flop onto your bed face first, mentally swearing your stupid roommate in six different languages. Then comes the timid knock on the door you were expecting. You ignore it. You hear his muffled throat-clearing, “Y/N… Can I come in?”
You want to ignore him. You want to ignore him so badly. But there’s just something about his boyish innocence that has his claws embedded into you. You sigh, cursing your soft spot for him, and go to open the door.
“Wh-“
You’re silenced when he enshrouds you in his embrace, his honey scent permeating into your mind and making you unable to resist sinking into him. You give yourself credit for being able to not reciprocate the hug. But as he walks you back into your room into your bed, your head buried in his shoulder, his hands clutching your back the way he holds his teddy bear Kimchi when he sleeps, your own arms are itching to circle his neck. The plastic bag dangles from his elbow, swinging at your every step back
With his weight on top of you, you fall onto the mattress. Or more like he forces you to fall onto the mattress, his body propped up over you by his two arms on either side of your face.
“I’m so sorry.”
You refuse to look at him.
“You got me chicken and beer on your way home?” The noisy crinkle of the plastic bag as he takes out the takeaway you had bought for him despite being absolutely livid is vexing.
You should’ve just consumed it all yourself. Why did you even get it for him?
“Yeah, figured you’d forget to eat since you were at the library all day. Plus, unlike some people, I don’t forget our annual friendship traditions.” Grumbling, you fix your eyes on him, determined to coax more guilt from him. Yet instead, it backfires because you feel a warmth in your chest, urging you to forgive him.
“Fuck. Okay, that’s it, you’re definitely my soulmate.” He is cursing at himself in his head, you can tell. As he pushes his hair out of his face in frustration, you want to kiss him stupid. The fuck is wrong with you?
“Ha. Don’t call me your soulmate if you can’t even remember our anniversary.” Puckering your bottom lip out at him, you say. “I’ll kick you in the balls if you don’t get off me.”
Taehyung laughs. It’s a sound that threatens to dissolve your anger, a smile queuing impatiently at your lips. Don’t break. “You wouldn’t. You just went all the way to to get me fried chicken and beer even after I stood you up on our anniversary. You’re secretly so soft, don’t even deny it.”
“Shut it, dickface.” You attempt to roll away from under him but he cages you between his arms. “Look how you take advantage of my kindness towards you. You don’t deserve me.”
“I knowwww I don’t deserve you. I will do all the grovelling for as long as you want me. I’ll do laundry for the rest of the month. I’ll wash the dishes every time. I’ll buy you bubble tea any time you want me to. Pleaseeeee.” Whining, he squeezes your cheeks between his two unholy massive palms and nuzzles into your neck.
Ugh, you’re so sick of him. He’s impossible.
“Firstly, the last time you did laundry, you stained all our white clothes pink.” You yank him by his hair off your neck. “Secondly, I don’t trust you with the dishes because you’ve already broken my favourite mug. And third, no take backs on the bubble tea.”
He smiles at you sheepishly. He knows how incompetent he is, how he is honestly a twenty-something year old toddler. A man child.
When he doesn’t say anything, plainly staring at you with his cheeks risen so high from his smile, you finally give in and giggle.
God, why is your roommate so annoying?
“Haha! Got you! You can’t stay mad at me.” Taehyung shakes you by the head triumphantly like a baby playing, borderline trying to decapitate, his doll.
“Let go! I’m getting whiplash!” The laughter sputters out of you traitorously.
“Let me kiss your pouty lips then.”
You hate that you let him, and you hate how just like that, you’re not mad at your best friend anymore. As he kisses you so softly and apologetically, you melt into him, forgetting how rudely you were cursing him an hour ago.
Later, you two eat the Korean fried chicken and drink the cans of beer on your bed, reminiscing about your early days after initially moving in together, laughing at all those weird awkward encounters.
It’s your friendship anniversary, so you don’t have sex tonight. But ironically you can’t stop kissing as he cuddles you to sleep.
.
05/11/2019
© Copyright 2019
786 notes · View notes
Text
Episode 11: Alone Time
Tumblr media
Prodigal Son. Come for the plot line. Stay for the whump. Let’s dive into this episode.
SPOILERS AHEAD.
0:06 - Look at poor baby Malcolm’s black eye. :( Do you think the bullies are why he got into martial arts - because he wanted to defend himself?
0:59 - Malcolm is chained to the ground. At this point he can’t escape. Can someone please explain to me why Watkins decided to take Malcolm’s shoes and socks? I mean - no shoes makes it harder to run away but he’s chained to the ground so why bother?!? Furthermore, where is Malcolm’s tie and suit jacket? Why take those? ...he also took Malcolm’s watch but at least that one makes sense.
1:10 - This is Not Good. Malcolm looks scared and a little confused. Does he have a concussion? 
1:45 - This is Gil terrified and determined to find his missing kid. My heart is breaking just looking at him. 
1:50 - Why was this speech necessary 12 hours after the kidnapping and murder? Why to the whole precinct? Why does Colette get to make it instead of Gil? The precinct respects Gil. They don’t respect Colette. 
2:03 - JT looks sad and scared. I don’t think we’ve ever seen him look this upset. Malcolm’s wormed his way into JT’s heart. It’s sweet. 
2:08 - Dani looks concerned and scared too - but that’s not a surprise given the amount of screen time that’s been given to Dani and Malcolm’s brewing friendship. 
2:10 - Gil looks pissed when he’s staring at the floor. I don’t blame him Colette is suggesting that his kid might already be dead. He’s probably blaming himself. Is he side-eying Colette - for making an insensitive speech 12 hours late? Or Dani and JT because he wants them to ignore Colette and go and find Bright? 
2:24 - JT isn’t acting out of line here. I’ve watched enough Criminal Minds to know that sometimes locals PD officers/detectives get upset and take things personally when the FBI get involved. BUT Colette is acting like a real piece of work. She’s disrespecting JT on purpose. She clearly hates men. What is her deal? 
2:31 -  Dani is great here. She totally diffuses the fight that was about to break out at JT (rightfully) lost his mind on this woman. It makes me wonder if Dani was bullied as a kid. Colette is acting like a high school queen B. Dani doesn’t seem like the type to be a queen B so I wonder if she was tormented by one as a kid?
3:00 - Honestly, I’m pissed about this. Yes - Jessica shouldn’t have had that press conference. BUT it’s downright criminal to avoid telling a mother that her child was kidnaped. Just more proof that Colette is a controlling, b**ch. Gil looks like he’s using all of his self-control not to lose it on Colette - which is a shame because I would pay good money to watch that outburst. 
3:15 - Colette clearly thinks that Gil and Jessica are in a relationship since she caught them standing so closely in Gil’s office. It’s kind of funny but also such an inappropriate thing for her to focus on right now. 
4:10 - So Gil does have a history of church attendance. The past tense there makes me assume that he stopped going when he became and adult and moved out of his parent’s house. 
4:15 - This is the closest to a Gil outburst we’ve gotten so far. I’m obsessed with it. Look at his face. He’s furious. He’s scared. ALSO - please tell me that Matilda gets jail time for being an accomplice. 
5:40 - When Jessica is on the phone she really reminds me of Ainsley. They both have this certain inflection in their voices when their determined and having a conversation with someone. 
 5:46 - Oh no. Gil does not want to do this. He does not want to tell Jessica that he didn’t protect Malcolm well enough. Look at how wrecked he is. He looks close to tears. 
6:24 - “It’s about Malcolm.” Jessica’s face. She immediately goes from playful and determined to serious and terrified. This woman adores her son. 
6:38 - I love this whole conversation between Gil and Jessica. I love that Gil calls her Jess. It suggests that at one point in time they were good friends. Believe me - my name is Jessica. If you introduce yourself as Jessica to everyone only your close friends/family (and douchebags trying to get in your pants after knowing you for 2 minutes) will start casually start calling you Jess. Furthermore, they both look scared. I love that Gil tries to reassure Jessica that it’s not her fault - partially because he knows it isn’t - but partially because he believes it’s his fault for not keeping a better eye on Malcolm.
6:55 - It’s interesting to me that the writers keep suggesting that there’s the potential for a romantic relationship between Gil and Jessica but then they also show Gil wearing his wedding ring. I find this interesting because Gil is a dude with a iron-clad moral standard. He would never cheat on his wife. The fact that he’s still wearing that ring suggests that he would never do anything with Jessica because he still considers himself married to his deceased wife. 
7:04 - I love how determined Gil is to find Malcolm. How desperate Jessica is to help. 
7:24 - Oh hell yes. This is such a great exchange. Gil is going to visit Martin Whitly and Jessica pretty much gives Gil permission to murder him. Gil and Jessica are both so desperate to find Malcolm and it’s precious.
8:08 - I do not like the way Malcolm is smiling here. He looks drugged and delirious. I’m really worried about that head wound and the fact that he’s probably missed doses of his mood stabilizers. *sigh* I want to hug him. 
9:18 - Ok. This is great. Watkins wants Malcolm to become his murder partner. He just thinks that Malcolm needs to “go through the trials”. Hasn’t Malcolm already “gone through the trials”? I mean, his dad is in prison, he’s been bullied his whole life, he has a nasty list of diagnoses that plague him, and he has so much trauma. We shouldn’t compare trauma but Malcolm’s probably had more severe trauma than John’s “my mommy left me with abusive grandparents who locked me in a wardrobe”. What happened to John was criminal but also he’s killing people. 
9:31 - I love that Malcolm openly states that he’s not a killer. How many times do you think he’s had to say that to people throughout his life? People who judge him when they find out who his father is. How many times do you think he’s said it to himself in the middle of a panic attack? Makes me wonder at what age he changed his last name.
10:02 - Aww Dani. Girl, you’re breaking my heart. You look so worried about Malcolm. ALSO love the determined teamwork we’re getting from Dani and JT here. So sweet.
11:00 - When do you think Martin last saw Gil? Murder trial? When Malcolm was a teenager? More recently? I’m really curious.
11:20 - Look at the pure hatred in Gil’s face. Man. Gil is an absolute A+ guy but I genuinely believe he’s capable of murdering Martin Whitly without guilt. 
11:30 - Can we all just take a moment to appreciate how incredible Michael Sheen is in this scene? He’s always good but this scene is just....wow. *chef’s kiss* Martin’s eyes. Martin’s panic attack. The way Martin squints due to light sensitivity. The hysterical laugh. Ugh. So. Good.
12:18 - Gil’s face when Martin is laughing hysterically. The look he’s giving Martin is fantastic. It’s a look of anger and disgust. Watch as Gil crosses his arms and avoids eye contact with Martin a few seconds later. It’s as though Gil is physically restraining himself from crossing that red line and using physical force to get the answers that he needs from Martin.
13:16 - Anyone else hate it when Martin calls Malcolm “my boy”? It really drives home the fact that Martin is a psychopath for me. A normal man who refer to Malcolm as “my son”. The fact that Martin refers to Malcolm as “my boy” implies that he views Malcolm as an object that he possesses. It makes me feel sick. 
13:30 - Amazing. Check out this look that Martin and Gil share. For a split second Martin has Gil convinced that he cares about Malcolm. Martin’s eyes are conveying fear for Malcolm. So are Gil’s. I’m sure Gil wasn’t intending on telling Martin that Malcolm is missing but Gil’s desperate. His emotional walls are crumbling and Martin has succeeded at manipulating him into telling him about Malcolm. 
13:50 - Martin’s panic attack is really interesting to me. First of all I’m an engineering student - not a doctor or a psychologist, BUT I’ve always thought that psychopaths can’t feel empathy or anxiety. Therefore, I thought psychopaths were literally incapable of having a panic attack (a quick google search suggests that my assumptions might be wrong). Secondly, why is Martin having a panic attack? Is it truly because he’s worried about his son? I don’t think so. I think it’s because he’s afraid of what Malcolm might find out from Watkins. I think he’s afraid that the NYPD and Malcolm might discover that Martin has done more crime than has been previously thought. 
14:03 - Martin you are lucky Gil needs you conscious. If he didn’t he would’ve probably let you suffocate to death simply for traumatizing Malcolm.
15:05 - Look at the way Malcolm physically recoils when Watkins starts screaming. Huh. I never noticed that before. 
15:27 - Malcolm is too good for this world. Seriously, the guy is chained up, bloody, and in pain yet he’s empathizing with his captor. It’s not even Stockholm, Malcolm does this to every serial killer. It’s almost as if he’s trying to help them because he wishes someone would’ve helped his Dad. Or that he wishes that he could help Martin - but he can’t so he uses other serial killers as a substitute for Martin. Kind of concerning behaviour actually. 
16:30 - This whole stabbing scene is perfect. Malcolm looks terrified and confused when he finds out about Watkin’s old stab wound. Then Watkins stabs him and Malcolm descends into silent, painful, shock. My whump heart is beating so fast. I have so many feelings.
19:06 - Anyone else find the way that Gabrielle says “You need to stay alive kiddo.” is super creepy?!? Just me? Ok. 
19:55 - You know, it’s really impressive that Malcolm is so self-aware when he’s hallucinating and/or having a nightmare. 
20:11 - This is heartbreaking. Malcolm looks so lost and scared. He doesn’t care about his life anymore - just answers. 
21:21 - I’m so offended that Colette is chilling at Gil’s desk like it belongs to her. This woman is on thin ice with me. 
21:30 - Look how desperate/scared JT and Dani are. These. Are. The. Friends. That. Malcolm. Deserves.
22:00 - Of course. Colette isn’t coming because she’s concerned about Bright. She’s coming because 1) she doesn’t trust Dani and JT and 2) she wants credit for the arrest of John Watkins.
22:46 - “It’s over.” Is Martin referring to his son’s life or the very comfortable prison life that he’s established for himself. I genuinely think that Martin is afraid of what the NYPD will find out when they find Malcolm’s body (because Martin assumes Malcolm is dead).
22:48 - Martin and Gil fighting over being Malcolm’s Dad is everything. My heart is so full. Gil is getting soooo pissed. I’m in love. This scene might just be my absolute favourite of the whole season thus far (April 16,2020). 
25:35 - More suggestions that something is going on romantically between Jessica and Gil. Check out the look in Gil’s eyes there. He’s upset. Is it because he likes Jessica and he thinks he’s not worthy of her. OR is it because Martin is wasting time and he thinks that Malcolm is dying?
25:50 - Malcolm doesn’t look surprised here. He looks confused and a little scared. Huh. Did he previously suspect that Martin had been planning on killing him?
26:40 - You know, everyone reacts to trauma and bad news differently. However, Ainsley doesn’t seem nearly upset enough about the fact that her only brother has been kidnaped by a serial killer. Even when she’s trying to comfort Jessica - she looks concerned for her mom. Not for her brother.
28:34 - Malcolm looks angry here. He’s desperately trying to convince himself that Martin loves him. That Martin would never try to kill him. 
29:10 - This is the most broken I have ever seen Malcolm’s eyes. Holy crap. His lip is twitching. It’s like his brain just completely dissociated. He’s terrified and he thinks his family is in danger.
29:42 - Now Ainsley looks scared. Is it because she thinks a serial killer (other than her dad) gave her gifts as a child? Or is it a delayed reaction to Malcolm’s kidnapping. Kind of like a 5 stages of grief but for a kidnapping? She hit the disbelief and anger stages before the fear stage?
30:50 - Why does Colette feel the need to restate that she’s the primary on this case? It seems redundant and demeaning to JT and Dani. Ugh I hate this woman.
30:59 - I love that Malcolm suddenly snaps out of his dissociative state the second that Watkins tells Malcolm that he is going to kill Jessica and Ainsley. He becomes desperate and even more terrified than before. Look how fast he’s moving despite his injuries. That’s love.
31:50 - “Damn it Bright. You’re skinny ass better still be alive.” Gold. Just pure gold. JT loves Malcolm like a brother and he is so annoyed that he cares about Bright. This line is everything.
32:00 - Malcolm looks so close to tears here. He’s completely terrified. My heart is shattering. BUT my whump heart is also really happy. Because I’m a monster.
33:06 - I love how angry Dani gets on the phone with Gil. It suggests that Gil took a nasty tone of disbelief with her when she told him they didn’t find Malcolm. 
33:30 - Malcolm tries to run after John despite being chained up. My heart is so full. This boy adores his mother and sister. 
34:05 - They’re putting Martin back into solitary. Huh. Why didn’t they just have Gil question him in solitary? It was an emergency. Why go to the trouble of moving Martin through the hospital?
34:20 - Gil is definitely not supposed to be that close to Martin. That’s how scared Gil is - he just physically held a serial killer in a sort of comforting way to try and save Malcolm. This man deserves an award for Dad of the Year.
34:55 - So did Jessica not know about the tunnels under the house? I feel like that’s something she would’ve told the police about when Martin was arrested. Or at least something the police would’ve found when Martin was arrested. WHY DID NO ONE THINK TO CHECK THERE WHEN MALCOLM WENT MISSING?!? 
35:05 - Jessica Whitly is my queen. Running for her life. Terrified to death. She still has time to make sarcastic, sassy remarks to her daughter. I stan this woman. 
36:00 - Look at Malcolm. He’s completely lost the will to live. He’s given up. Until the hallucination of Martin makes him angry enough to keep living.
39:00 - “I have never counted on a man to save us and I don’t need to now.” Again. Jessica Whitly is a perfect woman. 
39:20 - Watching Malcolm break his own hand is utterly heart wrenching. What a total badass. He is bleeding out from a stab wound. He probably has a concussion. He is terrified, off his meds, and in extraordinary pain. Yet, he breaks his own hand in a desperate attempt to save his family. That is love.  Also...how did no one hear Malcolm screaming in pain when he broke his hand? How did no one hear Watkins screaming at Malcolm earlier?
40:04 - Jessica going at Watkins with a pair of scissors is both hilarious and just vicious. I love it. She is clearly terrified but if she’s going to die she is intending to die fighting. This woman is a treasure. 
40:46 - Jessica regains a sense of power when she hears Malcolm’s voice. Her eyes look less scared and more angry. 
41:20 - For continuity reasons I’m going to assume that Watkins is hallucinating that trunk and Malcolm just knocked him out onto the carpet. Also protective!Malcolm is very attractive. 
42:32 - This ending scene is awesome. That family hug. The fear in Jessica’s eyes when she asks Malcolm if Watkins is dead. The relief in her eyes when she sees Malcolm. The pain in Malcolm’s eyes. 
This episode is so so so good. Thanks for hanging out. 
27 notes · View notes
Text
It’ll Be Okay
A Criminal Minds One Shot
Tumblr media
MY MASTERLIST
Requests and Tagslist open!
[I’m super willing to write more parts with London or to continue this part let me know in the requests!]
Original Focus Character: London Emma Schmidt, 17
Team Status: First few episodes of season 3 before Rossi→ Hotch, Reid, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, Garcia
Potential Triggers: Sexual abuse and assault → 2 potentially triggering scenes. One depicting the after thoughts and another briefly detailing what it looks like on the outside from a distance.
National Sexual Assault Hotline: Call 1-800-656-4673
London loved her job.
Sure, the pay sucked, but the hours were relatively constant, the people were amazing, and even though the team could function without her, they all pretend it couldn’t.
Working as a (low pay) intern at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit was a dream come true for her. She had landed the gig through her councilor, who had handed her the pamphlet and application.
Mrs. VerHagen knew about her passion for going into some form of law enforcement or government, and how badly she wanted to join the bureau. With that knowledge, as soon as she saw the new intern program that would match one student to each unit in the building, she knew London would be interested.
As soon as the deadline had occurred, she received the letter she was accepted and would need to submit a skills profile so that each unit could choose which intern they felt would fit their team best. It all seemed very pet adoption style, but if it meant she had a better chance of making it into the FBI after high school, she would take it.
Once she submitted that, she waited another very anxious several months before getting word that the Behavior Analysis Unit had chosen her from all the survey talented individuals.
Since she was only a high school junior, seventeen years old, she couldn’t go on trips with the team’s and parent’s approval- which she knew would never happen- so she just stayed in the office, helping Garcia from her cave, or tidying things and filing old cases.
Today, however, was one of the days that she would go straight from her public high school to the bureau’s headquarter. She smiled at the main guard at the main entrance, letting them search her school bag and scan her employee badge clipped to the front pocket of her jean jacket.
As she stepped out of the elevator, she was greeted by JJ waving to her while walking from her office, “hey London, I have a few things for you to do today while you’re in, the list is sitting on your desk!”
“Sounds great, JJ! I’ll get right on it,” London called as they passed and she entered the bullpen and set her bag down onto her desk.
“Hey, Schmidt, did you make a coffee run?”
Moving her head to follow the voice she rolled her eyes at Special Agent Derek Morgan, one of the people she loved the most at the BAU, sitting at his desk, relaxing as he leaned against the desk of the person in the office she was closest with, Doctor Spencer Reid. “I didn’t know I was supposed to, I can see what the break room has, but I know you’ll still complain.”
Morgan laughed and outstretched his hand, an almost empty coffee mug hanging for her to grasp, “You know my order?”
London laughed and took the mug, “splash of milk one spoon of sugar, yeah, I know,” she laughed. Looking over to Spencer she raised her eyebrows, “want any Reid? I know your order, don’t worry.”
Spencer nodded and smiled at her, “Yeah, sure. Thanks, London. How was school?”
Shrugging, she leaned back against her desk with the mugs held in her hands. “As good as school can be, but hey, I don’t have to go back until 8am tomorrow.”
The two men laughed as she shrugged and moved to fill up the coffee mugs, “I’ll be back!”
After London filled and returned the mugs to her coworkers and a mug for herself, she started on the list that JJ had given her.
It was a simple list, just filling out some basic forms and organizing records. Sometimes spending so much time with the agents. She made small talk with the people around her.
Tricking Reid into doing her homework for her, throwing small things at Morgan while he wasn’t looking, and sending cat videos to the group chat she was in with JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia were just a few.
It wasn’t until Morgan spoke again that she remembered the time, and what waited for her at home, “Hey, Lon, it’s Tuesday, don’t you gotta be back home by 10?”
Looking up from her AP Chemistry homework, she nodded, “Yeah, why?”
Prentiss looked at the clock sitting on his desk before chiming in, “It’s 9:30 right now.”
Her heat dropped. She was already dreading going home for the fact it was the night of the week she hated wholeheartedly, but being late would make everything that much worse, “Shit, the bus leaves at 9:45, do you think I could make it?”
Reid looked at her, “Hey, I can drive you home, no problem.”
She shook her head, scrambling to shove her books in her bag, log out of the computer, and chug whatever was left at the bottom of her coffee mug, “Yeah, but that’ll only save a few minutes, I’ll still be late.”
At that point, London didn’t have time to allow herself to remember that not only did Reid hate people in his personal space but he also hated driving.
Morgan looked at Prentiss, they made eye contact with a mutual concern.
London was always punctual, that’s just how she was, but on Tuesdays towards the end of the night she was always that much more on edge, only for her to return on Thursday fine.
Once she had gotten ready at her desk at a seemingly superhuman speed, she looked at Spencer expectantly. “Chop chop, we gotta go, come on.”
With keys in hand, he was still grabbing his side bag while she all but dragged him out the office, neglecting the elevator after deeming it, “too time consuming and slow”.
Once they had gotten into the car, London’s leg wouldn’t stay still, it was bouncing and she was picking at her nails, something the team had quickly identified as her “tells”.
“So, are you going to explain why you’re in such a rush?” Spencer asked, seeing it as appropriate to have an explanation.
London shrugged before pointing the corner to turn leading him into a neighborhood that could not be easily classified into lower or middle class. It was the first time any of the team members had brought her home after her shift.
Once he pulled into the driveway, he moved to get out, but was interrupted by London stopping him with a forceful, “what are you doing?”
Spencer looked at her front door, which had the porch light on, and the man standing in the window before clarifying, “I was going to meet your dad and siblings, you talk about them all the time. More your siblings than dad, but still.”
It was a terrible idea. Bruce would be mad enough at London for being late, let alone if she brought someone home, let alone on a Tuesday night.
It wasn’t a secret to the team that her mother was dead, she was open about the ordeal. A drunk driving accident, something that was all too common. It was also true she talked about her younger siblings, little Lance and Jessica, all the time, she loved them and proved every Tuesday she would do anything for them. But the threat of her father, Bruce, out weighed the desire to introduce her family with her friends from the BAU.
Frantically shaking her head at him, her eyes darting from her father, to the clock on the dashboard reading that she was at least fifteen minutes late to curfew, and then Spencer. “No, no no no no, I’m sure you’ll get to meet them sometime but tonight won’t be it. I promise I’ll pick them up from school one day and take them to the office even. But right now I need to go.”
Before Reid could even argue, she was already out of the car and standing outside the front door. “I’ll see you and the rest of the team on Thursday! Have a good night and get some sleep!”
After the kind words she yelled at him she quickly entered her home, shut the door, and turned off the light.
Spencer knew that something was wrong, but nonetheless he drove away from the house and discussed the peculiarities of the situation with the team once he arrived back at the office.
While Reid drove back to the office, London was dealing with the rage of her father inside the home.
“You’re late.” The empty cans laid on the coffee table and refused to let her forget the impending doom that polluted the air around her.
“I know, I got wrapped up, it won’t happen again, I promise.” She looked to the kitchen table, “where are the kids? You know the deal, you do whatever you want to me but you don’t lay a hand on them.”
Downing the rest of the can he was holding, London’s father moved towards her, “I don’t care about what the brats do. What I do care about, is what we’re about to do, and I’m going to take my sweet time tonight,” the way he caressed the side of her face made her almost as sick as what was about to happen would, “sweetheart.”
Laying in her fathers bed, naked with tears streaming down her face and under the covers with him, all London could remember was when she hadn’t grown so numb to her father raping her.
She used to resist. Sometimes she wouldn’t go home on Tuesdays, as that was always the night he got so wasted he could barely remember who his own children were and would beat them senseless.
London learned the hard way that if she wasn’t there to take the brunt of it, it would go to her ten year old brother, or six year old sister, and she couldn’t let that happen. It wasn’t like her older brother, Bryan, knew about it. Once mom died, dad spiraled, and Bryan left for college never to look back at just the right time.
So her father had his way with her every Tuesday night so long as she kept her grades up, he didn’t get black out wasted, and she met her 10 o’clock curfew every Tuesday night, and 11 o’clock curfew the rest of the week, or until her father decided to add an extra day to the schedule.
She knew that she would find herself back where she was tomorrow night, she was late, what should she have expected?
She was tired, she was so tired, more tired than she usually was on a night after. It was a Wednesday, the conveniently planned off-day unless she was called in to help JJ brief the team on a new case, something she had only been allowed to help with two or three times before.
She had drifted through the day ready to go home and get the torture and punishment of being late by her father, until her phone rang as the last bell rang.
Answering it she heard JJ’s lovely voice through the speakers asking for her to go into the office and help with a couple house/office keeping things, help out the team a bit overall.
London agreed, only asking if she could go in a bit later to set up Lance and Jessica’s dinner and evening situations. She felt bad for leaving them alone as often as she did, but on days she regularly had to go into her internship, she had arrangements with her kind neighbors established.
JJ, obviously, agreed.
It was around five thirty in the evening when London made her way into the office. She still smiled at the people she passed, and greeted the security guards who, although were confused about her break in schedule, were still happy to see her.
As soon as she got to her desk she dropped her bag, half heartedly waved at Prentiss who smiled brightly at her, and went to get the most needed mug of coffee probably ever.
Reid had approached her shortly after she sat down, “hey, are you alright? You seemed really upset last night.”
Glancing up from her laptop, London gave him a faint smile, “yeah, sorry about that. My dad’s just strict about curfew.”
Morgan chimed in from his desk, “only on Tuesday?”
London looked between Morgan and Reid before squinting her eyes and looking between them, “Yeah, my siblings get home earlier those days. Why? You guys better not be profiling me, there’s a rule against it for a reason.”
Reid shook his head and shrugged as he sipped his coffee, and Morgan leaned into watching as she stared into space after the three remaining in the situation for what felt like lifespans.
Nodding to Spencer, Morgan, and Prentiss, who didn’t want to be directly a part of the investigation but was still invested in the girls wellbeing, watched as he placed his land on her arm.
Against their hopes, she flinched away and panicked, darting her eyes around the office and her breathing escalated. “What?”
Spencer just looked at her for a moment before asking, “I’m going to be done with paperwork early tonight, I can give you a ride home again tonight if you’d like.”
She looked at him before slowly agreeing, rubbing her forehead in her hand, “yeah, sure, sounds great. Curfew’s 10 again tonight, though.”
Spencer looked back to Morgan and subtly nodded before replying to the girl, “sounds good.”
After an odd car ride to London’s house filled with weirdly general but specific questions from Reid, she once again found herself standing inside the front door of her house, ready to let her father take advantage of her so long as it meant her siblings were safe.
Reid sat in his car parked outside of London’s house with his binoculars in one hand, and his phone in the other. It felt wrong that he was there, spying on his department’s intern that he had grown to become friends with.
Friends care about and help friends. London needed help. That much was clear and had been subtly obvious since day one, the only part left unclear was from what.
***TRIGGER WARNING: ACT (AS MENTIONED ABOVE) BEGINS***
He sat watching through the large front bay window as she stood to her father, which Garcia and other research found to be Bruce, until he pressed her against a wall and moved his face close to hers.
There was a look of resistance on London’s face before he said something that made it drop into defeat and she let her father push her down the hallway.
Spencer had a sick feeling in her stomach. So far, everything that was happening had matched with him, Morgan’s, and Prentiss’s theories. Someone was molesting their intern, they just weren’t sure who.
Watching through the window, Reid watched as London was pushed into the middle of the room. It looked like it was hers, the light blue walls seemed to fit the girl so well he wasn’t sure whose else room it could be.
Spencer hated watching, but he knew that if there was another witness it would make it that much easier to put the bastard away once this was over.
With that in mind, he watched as the girl shook her head at her father before he slapped her face, and moved to close the blinds.
He could still see her silouette as she removed her shirt.
It was all he had to see to call Derek Morgan on his phone and say the only words he needed to, “Hey, we were right. It’s her dad.”
***TRIGGER WARNING: ACT (AS MENTIONED ABOVE) ENDS***
One week and one day later, London works at the BAU, and she loves her job and couldn’t think of a time she genuinely disliked it.
That particular Thursday, however, doing anything else was more appealing to London than going to work.
Maybe it was the sinking feeling that someone had figured out her secret with all the questions they had been asking for a week. Maybe it was the day after feeling she had grown used to when she missed curfew for the second week in a row. Maybe it was just because she forgot her lunch money and was even more tired than Wednesday.
She followed her regular routine through the hallways and elevator to the BAU office floor where the desks of the agents were empty, something that wasn’t uncommon when they were out of town on missions and JJ would have Penelope give her tasks or email her a list.
The uncommon part about the desks being empty was that Doctor Reid was standing next to her desk.
She could tell something was wrong. It was established early that Spencer had the worst poker face, and she had gotten significantly better at profiling since the internship had started.
She was determined to find out what was happening. Did something happen to her siblings? Did something happen to her? Was she being fired?
“What’s up, Spence? Why the long face?”
First, he nodded at her desk and then to the conference room, then he spoke to her, “why don’t you set your stuff down and come join the team in the conference room. We have a case we’d like you to see.”
“A case?” She had been allowed to sit in on several briefings, even help JJ give the briefings, and she often helped Penelope when she was incharge of her interning, but they never waited for her so that she could see.
Nodding, Spencer walked next to the girl around the bullpen and up the staircase. “How was school? Did that boy ask you out yet? Did you know that Morgan had Garcia dig into him for you?”
Laughing she shook her head, “You guys are ridiculous.”
There was a shift in the atmosphere when she walked into the conference room. The entire team was sitting there, and it seemed they were waiting for her and Spencer. “What’s going on? Am I getting fired because I swear Morgan was the one who broke the mug on Tuesday.”
“Hey!” Morgan exclaimed as the girl shrugged at him. What she was saying wasn’t entirely true, but she wasn’t about to get fired over dropping a mug because a boy texted her.
Hotch smiled softly at her before calming her, “no, you’re not getting fired, London. Reid, can you close the door?”
“Okay, cool. What’s this about then?”
It got quiet again as the tension in the room was insufferable.
Looking around the room, London watched as every member of the team avoided her eye contact. “What’s going on? I’m not a fan of the whole-everyone-knows-something-London-doesn’t thing.”
Emily looked up to meet her eyes before speaking in a calm and comforting manner, “London, we know what’s happening at home.”
What’s happening at home. Which part? It might not be as bad as London was thinking. Maybe they don’t know about Tuesdays, they only know about Bruce’s drinking problem.
“What? What do you mean, what’s going on at home?” The change in London’s voice was palpable. It was strained, like she was about to cry if it was what she thought it was, which was absolutely true.
JJ cleared her throat softly, “we know what your dad does to you on Tuesdays. And every night you miss curfew.”
London was glad she didn’t move her head to make eye contact with JJ, she kept her eyes unmoving, staring straight in front of her. Her jaw was clenched, her breathing was heavy but steady, and her fingers clenched in and out of fists.
After a few beats of silence, Derek spoke to her, “Lon, it’s okay. We just want to help you.”
London blinked before looking up and diluting her face to a neutral position before asking, “Alright. Are we done here?”
The team wasn’t sure what was worse, how natural ignoring trauma was to a seventeen year old, or the fact she was so calmly numb to the fact that there were tears rapidly falling down her face without notice from her.
Spencer then did one of the most unexpected things that he could have done, he walked up to the girl and pulled her into his arms. It was then the dam broke and London started sobbing uncontrollably, moving to clutch the man in a hug.
“It’s okay, London. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
-
concepts for a part 2/series
13 notes · View notes
touchingoldmagic · 4 years
Text
Day 9 - The Receptionist
Day 9 of the 30 Day Ghostbusters Challenge!
Author’s Note: This is the comic’verse, which is why the guys have their own apartments and don't live at the firehouse.
5:57 A.M.
She's awake minutes before her alarm is about to go off, reaching over to turn it off as she rises. It's for peace of mind as much as habit--for some reason her apartment bedroom always feels cold and unpleasant if the blaring alarm jolts her out of sleep, and sometimes the closet doorknob clicks and the door eases open just an inch when she stands up, as if she didn't quite catch the latch when she closed it the night before.
She doesn't believe her apartment is haunted; the closet latch has been tricky since she moved in. But she firmly believes in better safe than sorry, and if stopping the alarm before it goes off allows anyone else within hearing range to have a little better attitude in the morning, it's no big trouble to learn to be an early riser.
Especially if it keeps her from having to ask her employers to come by, which would result in at least a quarter of her possessions being set on fire.
6:35 A.M.
Her racquetball partner is late, so she starts warming up on her own. This gym is a friendly one, which is one of the reasons she keeps paying the pricey membership. It isn't long before someone sees her on the court alone and asks if she needs a partner. He's cute, tall and dark-haired, which makes it easy to say yes.
8:30 A.M.
Her key opens the smaller door set in the garage doors of Ghostbusters HQ and she steps through. It smells of motor oil and ozone inside, just as it always does.
At one point they had the lights set to motion-sensors, but someone had cannibalized the device for parts for something else and it hadn't been replaced yet.
She turns on lights as she heads to her desk, leaving the ones upstairs for when the guys get in. Tucking her purse under the desk, she boots up her computer and checks her post-it notes to remind her of the day's priorities.
8:47 A.M.
Egon arrives, pushing the front door open and walking through without looking up from the graphing calculator held in his hand.
"Good morning, Egon!" she calls out to him. He usually arrives before the others. Despite that he's already focused on his work, she enjoys the thought that it'll just be the two of them for a while.
"Good morning, Janine," he responds automatically. He doesn't look up from his calculations as he passes the desk and heads up the stairs, but he pauses briefly when he returns her greeting.
"Turn on the lights so you don't trip!" she calls up after him.
She hears the click of the lights soon after.
9:20 A.M.
Ray and Winston walk in together, deep in conversation. They're both holding bags from the auto store where they prefer getting their car parts, which explains their late arrival.
She doesn't want to interrupt them so she simply waves a greeting, but Ray pipes up a cheerful "Hi, Janine!" without pausing a beat in his conversation. Winston settles for a wave back.
11:17 A.M.
Peter Venkman strolls in, whistling something tunelessly. She doesn't look up from her computer screen, because giving him attention just encourages him and she's hoping to finish the invoice she's working on before he can distract her.
"Janine, this is important, I need to ask you a question. As a woman, I mean. Is it unfair to the other men on the street that this jacket fits me so well?"
She sighs.
12:05 P.M.
She's already set the answering machine and grabbed her purse when a voice from behind her attempts to halt her from leaving.
"Janine, you know, the noon hour is a busy time around here. People call us on their lunch breaks. Would it kill ya to wait until one before you head for lunch?"
"The machine's already on, Dr. Venkman, but if YOU want to watch the phones for thirty minutes, be my guest," she tosses over her shoulder. "If you can tear yourself away from your work, I mean."
Peter turns the page of his magazine and doesn't reply.
12:35 P.M.
When she returns, she automatically checks the answering machine. There's zero messages. She turns around in her seat and gives Peter an expectant look. Wordlessly he stands up, stretches. He leaves his office, dropping a pile of scribbled notes in front of her on his way to the stairs.
She almost feels a moment's surprise and appreciation before she squints at the pile and realizes his handwriting is almost illegible. She scowls.
He CAN write more legibly. She knows it. She has seen him give his number to clients before. Well, so be it. As if she hadn't gotten skilled at reading his scrawl over the years. She doesn't demand to know what the chicken scratch is that covers her desk. She won't give him the satisfaction.
2:39 P.M.
The firehouse is quiet when the guys are out on a call, but never silent. The computer and the overhead lights hum with electricity. Sometimes the painting of Vigo in the corner mutters to itself, though it mostly stopped speaking to them over a year ago. Sometimes there's a subtle vibration in the floor, if there's a big experiment running upstairs.
The air itself sometimes seems to hum at a frequency almost beyond her hearing, and when she asked Ray about it, he theorized that she could feel the presence of the hundreds of unhappy ghosts trapped in the containment unit downstairs.
She forgot it's usually not a good idea to ask Ray these things.
When the guys return, it's the sound of the electric garage door opener that alerts her. She continues with her typing as Ecto stops and the engine cuts off with a low growl. The driver door opens first. Winston climbs out from behind the wheel, at the same time Ray opens the front passenger door. Neither of them are talking, which is unusual. She stops what she's doing.
One of the back doors opens and Peter climbs out. He's not talking either. The other door doesn't open. She stands up.
Peter holds up his hands as she comes around from behind her desk. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Janine," he says. "He took a header off a landing and brained himself on the overhang. Paramedics say he's fine, just rattled his marbles."
Winston's the one who opens the rear driver's side door. Egon emerges, slow and unsteady, a white gauze square on his left temple and a bandage wrapped around his head that made him look like an injured cartoon character. It might have been comical if she wasn't picturing his body sprawled at the bottom of a stairway like a dropped doll.
5:45 P.M.
It's past the time that she usually leaves, but that's what always happens when one of them gets injured. She can't help it, even when there's nothing for her to do. Especially when there's nothing for her to do.
She pokes around the firehouse, making sure dishes are out of the sink, old coffee is poured out, things left on tables are put away. It doesn't take the degree on the wall of Peter's office to tell her it's because her feelings of helplessness at times like this are almost enough to drive her crazy. She's not fussing. That's for old ladies. She's making sure things are covered. That's her job.
"Egon, are you sure you're all right?" she asks.
"I'm fine," he says shortly, impatience and pain adding a bite to the words that she isn't offended by.
She would take him at his word, but he's been on the couch in the lab for at least forty-five minutes. His heavy-lidded expression under the gauze wrap makes him look like someone caught halfway between exhaustion and a migraine that won't let them rest.
"Well, if there's anything you need..." She lets the offer dangle in the air, and he acknowledges her with a curt nod but doesn't say anything else.
Peter, normally one to keep out of the lab, is searching for some paperwork in one of the filing cabinets in the corner.
6:15 P.M.
Finally Peter drives her off with the threat of not approving her overtime hours unless she leaves. She says goodbye on her way downstairs. It's hard to feel annoyed about the late hour when all four of the guys are still present when she leaves, with no sign of heading home themselves.
Not a one of us has been very good at separating our personal lives from this place, she muses to herself as she locks the front door behind her.
9:30 P.M.
She checks the closet door to make sure it's fully closed and latched before she climbs into bed for the night, so it won't be tempted to swing open on her. Her apartment is not haunted, but Mama Melnitz didn't raise a fool.
7 notes · View notes
Text
City Lights and Coffee Nights
Welcome to the City. A wonderful, magical place split into various districts, home to all manor or humans, elves, and dragons alike. Might we interest you in the business adventures of the great Avizandium Industries? Or perhaps you might like to try a coffee at the Katolis Castle café? There's something here for everyone here!
---
A collection of little Modern!AU oneshots by me (Dee) Sugarssaur (Jade) and Piecesofarose (Dani)!
You can read chapter one ‘The Winter Shift’ below the cut, or here on AO3 ! 
---
‘The Winter Shift is always so cold and dark at the Katolis Café. When Callum gets stranded with no safe way home, he's offered a lift from Rayla.’
Winter shifts at the café were always such a pain.
The hours were still the same, and yet it always felt so much longer, it was barely brightening when Callum got in to open up, and it was pitch black by the time he left. There were few highlights to his day, whether it be the interesting stories of customers, or the regular visits of his new regular friend Rayla, and it was those moments he clung to dearly to help him get through the day.
Rayla was here now.
He was acutely aware of that. She was sitting in her usual spot by the window decked out in the leather she wore when she was out and about on her moped. If it hadn’t been so busy he’d have happily strolled over for a chat, but it was always frenzied at this time of day, with everyone bustling in to get out of the cold.
He was rushing about in circles for almost an hour to keep on top of it, and it wasn’t until he was back behind the counter he allowed himself to sigh and catch his breath.
“Busy day, huh.” It was her standing there, slightly aside so she wasn’t being obstructive. She offered him a sympathetic grin.
“Gods, you have no idea. Do you have the time?”
“It’s 2:30. Don’t worry, you’re past the busiest bit, from what I’ve learnt coming here.”
He smiled weakly at her. “You after a refill?”
“No, I was just heading out. I uh-” She paused, suddenly uncharacteristically unsure of herself. She glanced down nervously, then back up to meet his eye. “Are you gonna be able to get home safely tonight?”
“Huh?” Well that caught him off-guard. “What do you mean?”
“Well it’s just, it’s starting to get really dark now. And I know have to cut through the Skywing district to get here… I dunno.”
“Oh! Rayla that’s so sweet of you to worry, but I have a bus pass, it’s okay!”
“Callum… the buses aren’t running today, remember? They’re doing a bunch of road work for the next couple weeks.”
Callum faltered. “Oh… I… I forgot about that.”
The concern grew on her face now. “Callum… I can give you a lift home on my bike if you want.”
“What? No, no, you don’t have to do that, I live so far out of your way-”
“It’s fine.” She waved him off with a gentle smile. “I’d just… feel better knowing you got home safe. That’s all.”
“O-Oh.” Callum managed, his heart stuttering. “I… Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yeah, your shift ends at 5 today, right?”
“Mhm.”
“Cool. I’ll be here about 4:45, okay?”
“Okay!” He grinned, and she smiled that soft little fond smile she often gave him just lately.
“Alright. See you in a bit then.” As she turned, she gave him a little wink and a casual wave, before heading out the door. Callum’s eyes lingered on the frame with a little sigh, even as he meandered towards a customer flagging him down. He hardly registered himself refilling their glass out of instinct until;
“Um, sir? Sir. Sir! Sir you’re spilling-!”
“Huh? Oh!” Callum squawked in alarm, yanking back the jug of water. The poor customer stared at him concerned, holding the overflowing glass of water as it puddled, creeping outwards over the table. “I’m so sorry! Let me go get something to mop this up-!”
 ---
 4:45 couldn’t come soon enough. The busy day was lulling into a slow sleepy afternoon, the sun not long having disappeared over the city horizon. With little to occupy himself with, his anxiety rattled in his brain.
‘She won’t stand me up, will she?’ He thought as the clock crept to 4:42. ‘Gods, I really hope she doesn’t, I don’t want to have to walk home through Skywing territory in the dark.’
The clock ticked over to 4:46 and his heart did nervous flutters. As he wiped down tables his eyes flicked constantly, desperately to the door, willing her to appear.
4:47.
4:48.
4:49-
Ding.
The bell on the door chimed and his face lit up. “Rayla!” Her name dropped from his lips without thinking, his voice warm and relieved. Her face was hard for a moment as she stared irately at her watch, but the second her eye met his, her face melted and she gave him a sad, apologetic smile.
“Hey! I’m so sorry I’m a little late, the traffic was a nightmare, and then I got a puncture a few minutes away.”
“It’s okay! Oh, a puncture?”
“Yeah,” She sighed. “It’s alright, I have a repair kit with me. It might just take a minute once we’re outside.”
“It’s alright.” He smiled. “I’m in no rush or anything.”
She relaxed, leaning against the counter. “Well that’s a relief since we’ll probably have to take the long way to yours to avoid the roadwork.”
After his shift came to a close and he locked up, Callum scurried off to get changed and grab his belongings from his locker, and he met Rayla around the side of the building where she was already busying herself with repairing the offending tyre.
“Is it bad?” He asked, walking over. She grunted and shrugged.
“Not as bad as it could’ve been.”
“Can I help at all?”
She smiled up at him. “Nah, it’s alright, this’ll only take a moment.”
It wasn’t long before she seemed content and she stood, stretched and smiled back at him. “Alright, sorry for the delay. So where’re we heading? It’s in the Katolis suburbs somewhere right?”
“O-Oh, yeah. Do you know Castle Lane?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s near the top of the hill, number 72.”
“Right then!” She turned to her bike and rummaged around, throwing something rather large over her shoulder. “Catch!”
With Callum’s terrible hand-eye co-ordination it nearly hit him in the head, and by some miracle landed in his panicked arms. It took him a few seconds to register what it was. A helmet. She had slipped her own on, her face now obscured all but her eyes as she hadn’t flipped the visor down yet, and hopped onto the moped, staring at him. Waiting.
“Well?” Her voice came out muffled.
“Oh!” He slipped it on, a rather large fit then joined Rayla on the bike. “U-Um, Rayla?”
“Hm?”
“Where… where do I um…”
“You can hold onto me, it’s fine.” She laughed. “I don’t want you falling off and getting hurt.”
He did so a little sheepishly, suddenly highly aware of what little space was between them. But Rayla seemed unfazed, starting the engine and off they went, speeding down the road.
Rayla didn’t take the same roads as the bus, or the ones he took when he walked to and from work. No, it seemed she really was taking him the long way, avoiding the city centre and taking him way out into the Xadian suburbs.
…She was taking him the scenic route.
Callum would have never dared set foot in these parts of the city at night. Though elves and humans lived in relative peace, tensions were still high, and muggings weren’t uncommon for elves or humans if you stepped into a different residential territory. But he was here with Rayla. And that made him feel… safe. Safe enough to appreciate just how beautiful it was here in the evening. There was a glow to it all, it truly was rich with magic here, he could feel it radiating all around him.
He could just make out her voice shouting over the engine. “You alright back there?”
“Yeah! I’m just taking in the scenery!” He called back. “It’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it? This is an Earthblood district. I love driving through here at night. Check out the trees, Callum, do you see the lanterns? They’re enchanted.”
Enchanted and enchanting, Callum thought, watching as the lights in the trees glowed warmly in the dark, floating like fireflies of all different colours of the rainbow.  He relaxed, and before he knew it his arms had wrapped gingerly around her, his chest flush with her back. He felt a chuckle vibrate through her back, and fought back the giddiness in his heart as he rested his head, or well, at least the helmet, between her shoulders.
“You falling asleep on me or something?” She teased. “If you do you’ll miss the best part.”
“Best part?”
“You’ll see.”
Well now she had piqued his curiosity. They drove silently for a good five minutes, Callum watching the world go by in a colourful blur, before she began to slow to a halt.
“Here.” She kicked out the stand and then turned slightly to look over her shoulder at him, pulling off her helmet. “Look.” She pointed out and Callum gasped, his eyes glistening as they reflected what he saw.
She had stopped them on a ledge overlooking the cityscape. It stretched as far as the eye could see, all of it, Callum could see and make out every district, every residential area, every park, shopping centre…
“Nice, isn’t it?” She smiled softly. “I like to stop here as I drive past sometimes. There’s something about… seeing it all, the bigger picture. Like you can see the divisions where the Xadian districts meet the Pentarchy ones, right? But when you see the whole thing together… it’s just one big city. It makes all the petty little conflicts seem so silly, don’t you think?” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Ugh, listen to me, I’m getting sentimental. You’re rubbing off on me.”
Callum laughed at that. “Rayla, what you said is beautiful, and very true.” He gazed out over the twinkling city lights. “It’s… sad that not everyone gets along and there’s still so much division and tension everywhere in the districts. But at least in the city centre people get along. …Mostly.”
She softened. “That’s true. It’s better than it used to be. Maybe there’s some hope yet, hm?” She elbowed him gently in the ribs. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”
 ---
 They drove silently the rest of the way, both quite content and relaxed in each other’s company. Perhaps, Callum thought, winter shifts wouldn’t be so bad if they always ended like this. He was almost a little disappointed when she slowed at his house and he had to let go of her.
“This the place?”
“Yes, thank you so much.” He stumbled slightly, his leg catching on the seat as he hopped over it, and he heard her chuckle fondly as she pulled her helmet back off to walk him a little way up the path. Her fingers wove almost coyly into her hair when she stopped, her eyes glancing back to her bike.
“I uh… better get back. Y’know, before my dads worry.”
“Oh… sure.”
And yet she didn’t go. At least, not right away. Rayla stood there sheepishly, staring at him like she was trying to make sense of something, fingers still twirling her hair. Callum’s own feet felt glued to the floor. Was she waiting for him to leave first? To make sure he got in okay? Well now this felt a bit awkward-
Before he knew it Rayla’s hand had found his shoulder and his breath hitched in surprise, his eyes snapping back to hers. She pulled him, or rather guided him a little closer to her, and he let her with a clumsy little stagger, confused.
“Ray-” It was all he managed before a little surprised squeak left his lips as Rayla leaned in and he felt her lips press to his cheek. It was soft, but fast, barely enough time for him to register what had happened, and she tore back quickly, whirling around before he got a chance to see her own expression.
Her ears were burning. That was the one thing he could see, bright red almost glowing in the dark. His own cheeks felt alight, the sensation of her lips lingering on his cheek like static electricity thrumming over his skin.
“See ya, Callum!” She called out without looking, her voice a little too cheery, forced, as she pulled the helmet back over her head.
His own voice came out small in comparison, barely a breath on the cold winter wind. “Oh… b-bye…”
He watched her hop back onto her bike, and she turned to look at him, her expression hidden behind the visor. What was she thinking, he wanted desperately to know, as she threw him a quick peace sign before driving away. Callum couldn’t see the giddy elation and pride on her face, nor feel her pounding heart as she sped off back towards the inner city. But neither could she see him standing there, stunned and breathless, his fingers at his cheek as though hoping to preserve the feeling, the moment that had just happened, as his other hand waved a weak little farewell.
Callum stood there his eyes lingering on her until she was far out of his sight, his brain stalled, lost in the moment, until his toes and fingers began to go numb. Only then did his lips split into a love-struck grin, his face and chest warm enough to distract him from the stinging cold. He nigh on pranced to the door, barely able to get his key in the door with his shaking hands, and he skipped over the threshold unable to contain the joy in his heart.
A voice snapped him out of his dreamy daze. “So… Who was that?” Ezran was kneeling on a stool by the window, his hands on the windowsill and a sly expression on his face.
“W-What? Oh, that’s Rayla. She’s uh… she’s a friend from work. Well, I mean, she doesn’t work at work, she just… hangs out a lot there and-”
“Does dad know you’ve got a girlfriend?”
“Wh- What?! No! No Ezran she’s not my-!”
It was too late, with a cheeky grin, Ezran had already sprung from the stool and was bound for the living room, shouting, “Daaaad! Callum’s got a girlfriend!”
“What?” Came Harrow’s startled voice.
“No!” Callum’s voice went shrill as he sprinted in after his little brother. “It’s not like that I swear! Ezran!”
37 notes · View notes
aion-rsa · 4 years
Text
Hamilton: Ranking Every Song from the Soundtrack
https://ift.tt/2YTCryx
Imagine the experience of being one of the first individuals to see Lin-Manuel Miranda’s now-classic Hamilton: An American Musical live. 
The first thing you notice is the spartan, largely empty stage. Then as Leslie Odom Jr. takes the stage as Aaron Burr followed by Miranda’s Hamilton, you realize that this production about America’s founding fathers is made up almost exclusively of People of Color. That’s a lot to take in from the start. At a certain point, however, you’re bound to realize that the play is about 40 minutes in and The. Music. Has. Not. Stopped. 
In addition to its many ingenious quirks and hooks, Hamilton is truly a musical musical. Miranda’s book and lyrics about one of the country’s most colorful and impressive founders has a lot of ground to cover. And it does so at a musical sprint with almost no expository time-wasting in-between.
As such, the Hamilton soundtrack is a staggeringly impressive piece of recent culture. At 46 tracks spread out over nearly two and a half hours, this album closely replicates the experience of a show most could never get a ticket to live. A passionate, thriving Hamilton fandom rose up out of that soundtrack and it continues through to this day.
Now, with Hamilton about to be more accessible than ever by joining Disney+, we decided to rank all 46 of those tracks.
46. Hurricane
The hurricane that ravaged Alexander Hamilton’s Caribbean island home of St. Croix was a crucial part of his life and led to him securing passage to the United States. But the song “Hurricane” uses the storm late in the play as a tortured metaphor for his turbulent public life. It’s undoubtedly the least energetic and weakest full song on the Hamilton soundtrack.
45. Farmer Refuted
“Farmer Refuted” does well to capture a young Hamilton’s rhetorical brilliance early on in the play but doesn’t hold up well against other, more fully crafted tunes. Hercules Mulligan mumbling “tear this dude apart” is certainly a soundtrack highlight though. 
44. The Story of Tonight (Reprise)
What would any Broadway musical soundtrack be without a reprise or two? “The Story of Tonight (Reprise)” is certainly fun. But, ultimately, tales of Hamilton’s legendary horniness would have been better suited with a full song. 
43. Schuyler Defeated
Just about every line of dialogue in Hamilton is sung… including heavily expository moments like Burr defeating Hamilton’s father-in-law in a local election. The subject matter and lack of true musical gusto makes “Schuyler Defeated” one of the least essential tracks in the show.
42. We Know
It’s a testament to how strong the Hamilton soundtrack is that a song like “We Know” could appear this low on the list. This account of Jefferson and company informing Hamilton of what they know is quite good; it just pales in comparison to the song in which they uncover Hamilton’s misdeeds. 
41. It’s Quiet Uptown
This is sure to be a controversial spot on the list for this much-loved ballad. “It’s Quiet Uptown” is indeed composed quite beautifully. It also features lyrics that seem to be almost impatient in nature – as though the song is trying to rush the Hamiltons through the grieving process to get back on with the show. 
40. Take a Break
Part of the miracle of Hamilton is how the soundtrack is able to turn rather mundane concepts and events in Hamilton’s life into rousing, larger-than-life musical numbers. “Take a Break” is charged with dramatizing the notion that Hamilton simply works too much with a sweetly melancholic melody. It does quite a good job in this regard but naturally can’t compete with some of the more bombastic songs on the list. 
39. Stay Alive
Set in the brutal dredge of the Revolutionary War, “Stay Alive” is a song about desperation. And between its urgent piano rhythm and panicky Miranda vocals, it does quite a good job of capturing the appropriate mood. It also feels like one long middle with no compelling introduction or conclusion. 
38. Best of Wives and Best of Women
Talk about “the calm before the storm.” “Best of Wives and Best of Women” captures one last quiet moment between Alexander and Eliza before Aaron Burr canonizes his one-time friend to the $10 bill. It’s brief, lovely, and effective. 
37. The Adams Administration
Hamilton wisely surmises that the best way to introduce audiences to new eras of its title character’s life story is through the narration of the man who killed him in Aaron Burr (Leslie Odom Jr.). Odom Jr.’s real flare for showmanship turns what could be throw-away intros into truly excellent material. It also features a hilarious nod to Sherman Edwards’ 1776 musical when Hamilton says, “Sit down, John” and then adds a colorful, “you fat motherf***er!”
36. A Winter’s Ball
Again: Burr’s monologues are always a welcome presence in these tracks. And in “A Winter’s Ball,” he does some of his best work by setting up Burr and Hamilton’s prowess… “with the ladiessssss!”
35. Meet Me Inside
Despite a brief running time, “Meet Me Inside” is able to establish George Washington’s general bona fides and Hamilton’s daddy issues in equal measure. 
34. Your Obedient Servant
“Your Obedient Servant” is Hamilton’s loving ode to passive aggression. In just two minutes and thirty seconds, you’ll believe that two grown men could somehow neg themselves into a duel via letter-writing. 
33. The Reynolds Pamphlet
You know that old adage of “he could read out of a phonebook and it would be interesting?” Well Hamilton basically does that with “The Reynolds Pamphlet.” The ominous music injects real import into the simple act of writing that would upend the Hamilton family’s lives. 
32. That Would Be Enough
Eliza’s refrain of “look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now” recurs at the beginning of “That Would Be Enough” in a truly touching way. This song is a real tonal whiplash from the revolutionary battles and duels that precede it, but it is ultimately strong enough to bring the focus back to Alexander and Eliza and not just the hectic world they inhabit. 
31. The Story of Tonight
“The Story of Tonight” is both a clever drinking song among bros and a subtle setup for the show’s larger theme of one’s story being told after they’re gone. The song is both affecting and effective, just a little too short to stand out and make big waves on our list. 
30. Blow Us All Away
“Blow Us All Away” is a fun, jaunty little ditty from Anthony Ramos’ Philip Hamilton. It rather ingeniously incorporates the young Philip’s own musical motif before ending in tragedy. 
29. Stay Alive (Reprise)
It’s hard for any song to emotionally contend with the death of a child in under two minutes but “Stay Alive (Reprise)” does a shockingly good job. There’s a real sense of urgency to the music before it settles in for poor Philip to say his final words. 
28. Burn
Musically, “Burn” is not one of the better ballads in Hamilton. Lyrically, however, its power is hard to deny. Phillipa Soo does a remarkable job communicating Eliza’s pain at her husband’s betrayal. More impressive is how she communicates the only way to work through that pain, which is through burning all of his personal correspondences and writings to her. 
Read more
Movies
Hamilton Movie: Meet the Original Cast
By David Crow
Culture
Hamilton Movie Censors F-Bombs for Disney Plus
By David Crow
27. The Election of 1800
Hamilton is the rare musical where one character can sing “can we get back to politics please?” and the audience’s response is “hell yeah!”. The show is uncommonly good at dramatizing boring political processes, and “The Election of 1800” is no exception. The song builds up to a pseudo-reprisal of “Washington on Your Side” in a shockingly effective and cathartic way. 
26. History Has Its Eyes on You
“History Has Its Eyes on You” is a powerful recurring phrase through the entirety of Hamilton. Each and every time the concept comes up in a song, it truly stands out. Strangely though, the song that bears its name is only in the middle of the pack in terms of the show’s numbers. Perhaps it’s because it occurs near the middle of the first act, before we can properly appreciate its heady themes? 
25. Aaron Burr, Sir
One of Hamilton’s most charming traits is how readily it acknowledges what an annoying pain in the ass its lead character can be at times. “Aaron Burr, Sir” is literally the second song of the entire musical and helps establish its playful tone as much as the bombastic opening number establishes a deadly serious one. 
24. Guns and Ships
Ballads are nice. “I want” songs are nice. Recurring motifs are nice. But sometimes you need a song that just goes hard. Thanks to “America’s favorite fighting Frenchman” that’s what “Guns and Ships” delivers. Lafayette actor Daveed Diggs faces an enormous challenge in Act One by filling out the character’s growth in bits and pieces. “Guns and Ships” is the reward, where a fully unleashed (and English-fluent) Lafayette makes it very clear what hell he has in store for the British army. 
23. Washington on Your Side
Thomas Jefferson is such a dynamo of a presence in Hamilton that one could be forgiven for forgetting how infrequently he turns up. Jefferson (and Daveed Diggs) is operating at an absurdly high capacity in “Washington on Your Side.” Meanwhile the music has a ball keeping up with the increasingly incensed backroom scheming of Jefferson and his “Southern motherfucking Democratic-Republicans!”
22. Right Hand Man
Thirty-two thousand troops in New York Harbor. That’s uh… that’s a lot. While the second act of Hamilton has to work a little harder to capture the drama of the inner-workings of a fledgling government, the first act is able to absolutely breeze through some truly epic and exciting songs covering the Revolutionary War. “Right Hand Man” is one such ditty that really captures the frenetic urgency of a bunch of up-jumped wannabe philosophers trying to topple the world’s most powerful empire. 
21. The Schuyler Sisters
Honestly, “The Schuyler Sisters” deserve better than its placement on this list. It’s just that everything that comes after is such a banger, that it’s hard to justify moving up the dynamic introduction of Angelicaaaa, Elizzzaaaaa… and Peggy.
20. Ten Duel Commandments
Imagine how insane you would sound in circa 1998 explaining that there would one day be a musical about the founding fathers that uses the framework of Notorious B.I.G.’s “Ten Crack Commandments” to describe the duel between Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton. Then imagine how insane you would sound when explaining that it was great. “Ten Duel Commandments” doesn’t cover the “big” duel of Hamilton. It’s a teaser for what’s to come. Thankfully it’s a hell of a good teaser. 
19. Cabinet Battle #2
Hamilton’s two cabinet battles run the risk of being the cringiest part of the show. Every concept has its stylistic limit, and a rap battle between Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson should absolutely fly past that limit. Somehow, however, the novelty works and the creativity of Miranda’s writing shines through. 
18. Cabinet Battle #1
The two Cabinet Battles are pretty interchangeable on the list. #1 gets the nod because of “we know who’s really doing the planting.”
17. What Comes Next
The trilogy of King George III songs is some of the most purely joyful songwriting on the Hamilton soundtrack. We can dive into the specifics of what really works about the songs in a later entry. For now, know that “What Comes Next” falls the lowest on our list due to featuring only one round of “da-da-da’s.”
16. I Know Him
“I Know Him” also features only one burst of “da-da-da’s.” But it still gets the nod over “What Comes Next” for King George III calling John Adams “that little guy who spoke to me.” 
15. Dear Theodosia
Perhaps more so than any other character in Hamilton, Aaron Burr works best on his own. The character (and the man he was based on) plays things close to the vest by design. It’s only through his musical soliloquies that we get a real sense of the guy. That’s what makes “Dear Theodosia” so powerful in particular. Burr wants the same thing for his daughter that Hamilton wants for his son: “Some day you’ll blow us all away.”
14. One Last Time
George Washington owned slaves. Yeah yeah, you can bandy around the usual “bUt He ReLeAsEd ThEm AlL lAtEr In LiFe” all you want. At the end of the day, it’s an inescapable fact for the country to confront. It’s a hard thing for Hamilton, however,  a show realistic about America’s flaws but still reverential to its founding story, to deal with. Hamilton presents the George Washington of American mythos for the most part and he strikes an undeniably impressive and imposing figure. To that end, “One Last Time” is one of the most unexpectedly moving songs in the show. Washington is committing one of the most important and selfless acts in American history by stepping aside. Yet there’s a real sense of sadness as the cast chants “George Washington’s going hooo-ooo-ooome.”
13. Non-Stop
“Non-Stop” is an extremely atypical choice for an Act-ender. Hamilton could have just as easily chosen to wrap up Act One with the rebels’ victory over Great Britain. Instead it takes a moment to process that then deftly sets up the rest of its story with “Non-Stop,” which is simply a song about Hamilton’s insane work ethic. The key to the track’s success is how relentless it is, as if it were trying to keep up with and mimic the title character’s pace. Then there are all the usual exciting Act-ending reprisals and recurring motifs to boot. 
12. Say No To This
Just as was the case in Hamilton’s life, Maria Reynolds has only a brief role in the show, but her influence casts quite a long shadow. “Say No To This” is a real showcase for both Miranda and Maria actress Jasmine Cephas Jones. This is a devastatingly catchy jazzy number about marital infidelity…. as all songs about marital infidelity should be. 
11. Alexander Hamilton
“How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore / And a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot / In the Caribbean by providence impoverished / In squalor, grow up to be a hero and a scholar?” our narrator Aaron Burr asks in Hamilton’s superb opening number. A play with so many moving parts, and such a high-concept needs an indelible opening track to convince audiences that the madness that is about to follow is worth waiting for. “Alexander Hamilton” is more than up to the task. This is an exhilarating starter that introduces its audience to all the important characters, themes, and sounds of the show. It also has its lead character spell out his full name in a rap, which somehow ends up being awesome and endearing rather than corny. 
10. Wait for It
Just like the rest of us, Burr is the main character of his own story. And the show allows him to tell that story in songs like “Wait For It.” “Wait For It” is an exciting, downright explosive bit of songwriting. It’s every bit the “I want” song for Burr that “My Shot” is to Hamilton. And just like Burr and Hamilton are two sides of the same coin, so too are these two songs. Burr is alone once again in this powerful number. And he uses that privacy as an excuse to loudly… LOUDLY exclaim his modus operandi. He comes from a similar background as Hamilton and he wants mostly the same things as Hamilton. The difference between the two of them is that Burr is willing to wait for it all.
9.  The Room Where it Happens
Bless this musical for having a song as brilliant  as “The Room Where it Happens” only just being able to crack the top 10. There are hundreds of musicals in which “The Room Where it Happens” would be far and away the standout number. For Hamilton, it’s ninth. “The Room Where It Happens” is another example of the show taking a seemingly bland topic (backroom deal-making) and turning it into something transcendently entertaining for its audience and something transcendently illustrative for its characters. This is the song where the borders between Aaron Burr: Narrator and Aaron Burr: Vengeance-Seeker come down.  Burr starts off as a patient observer of what kind of nefarious negotiations go into the building of a country before his frustration slowly builds into the recognition that he needs to be in the room where it happens. 
8. Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story
Truly there is no more fitting ending to Hamilton than “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” At its core, this is a play not only about legacy but about the fungible nature of legacy. Alexander Hamilton is gone and we know his story lives on. But who will tell that story? Like any good closing number, “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story” knows the importance of bringing back many of the play’s core concepts and characters. And none of those are more important than Eliza’s assertion that she is ready “to write herself back into the narrative.” In the end, it’s not the revolutions or the pamphlets but the love. And that’s how one finds oneself in the absurd position of crying over the guy on the $10 bill.
7. What’d I Miss?
Lin-Manuel Miranda has described Thomas Jefferson as the show’s Bugs Bunny. Nowhere is that more apparent than in the ludicrously jaunty track that opens up Hamilton’s Act Two. There might not be a more joyful or outright hilarious three minutes in any of the soundtrack’s 46 songs. After several years spent living it up in France, Daveed Diggs’s TJ returns to the United States. The rest of his fellow revolutionaries have moved on to R&B and rap, but Jefferson is still stuck in full on jazz mode. “What’d I Miss” serves as the perfect introduction to a crucial character and the themes of the show’s second half. 
6. The World Was Wide Enough
If “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story” is designed to make the audience cry, then “The World Was Wide Enough” exists to make them gasp. This penultimate song is a truly stunning piece of work. This is a sprawling performance that brings back “The 10 Duel Commandments” in expected yet still emotional fashion. Then at the play’s climactic moment, it cuts out the music entirely to make room for Hamilton’s internal monologue – his one last ride through all the pages he won’t write. Finally it covers the grim aftermath of Burr and Hamilton’s duel as the survivor grapples with what he has done. There is a lot packed into these five minutes of song and each moment is more compelling than the last. 
5. You’ll Be Back
If absolutely nothing else in Hamilton worked – if the characterizations were off, if the costumes were too simple, if the “Founding Fathers rapping” concept couldn’t be executed – the play’s two and a half hours all still would have been worth it for this one, tremendously goofy song. King George III (portrayed by Jonathan Groff in the original Broadway production) pops up three times throughout the show to deliver pointed little reminders to the American colonists about how good they used to have it. The first time around is by far the best, in large part because it’s so charmingly unexpected and weird. By the time King George III gets to the “da-da-da” section of his breakup song with America, it’s hard to imagine anyone resisting the song… or the show’s charms. 
4. My Shot
While “You’ll Be Back” may go down as the most enduring karaoke song from Hamilton, “My Shot” is almost certainly the play’s most recognizable and iconic tune. Every musical needs an “I want” song in which its lead articulates what they want out of this whole endeavor. Rarely are those “I wants” as passionate and thrilling as “My Shot.” This was reportedly the song that Miranda took the longest to write and it’s clear now to see why. Not only is “My Shot” lyrically and musically intricate, but it does the majority of play’s heavy lifting in establishing Hamilton as a character. Just about everything we need to know about Alexander Hamilton and what drives him is introduced here. And the work put into “My Shot” makes all of its recurring themes and concepts hit so much harder in the songs to come. 
3. Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)
In many ways, “Yorktown” benefits from the precedent that earlier songs like “My Shot” established. This is a song that puts energetic renditions of previous lines like “I’m not throwing away my shot” and “I imagine death so much it feels like a memory” to grand use. But for as much as “Yorktown” deftly invokes Hamilton’s past, what makes this song truly special is how solely focused it is on the present. To put it quite simply: “Yorktown” goes hard. It is fast, harsh, chaotic, and thrilling. This is the song that captures the moment that American troops defeated the British empire and “the world turned upside down.” It’s to the song’s immense credit that the music and lyrics capture the enormity of the moment. Also, there’s “stealing the show” and then there’s what Hercules Mulligan (Okieriete Onaodowan) does here in “Yorktown.” We’re in the shit now, and Hercules is loving it. 
2. Helpless
“Helpless” might be pound for pound the best musical moment in all of Hamilton. It’s a simple, seemingly effortless love song that, even removed from the context of the show, would sound beautiful coming out of anyone’s car radio on a lovely summer day. Within the context of the show, it’s even better. It acts as a rare moment of celebration for all the characters involved before the Revolutionary War really gets churning and before a young America needs capable young Americans to guide it. What makes “Helpless” truly great, however, is the song that follows it…
1. Satisfied
Wait, wait… why is Angelica saying “rewind?” Why do we need to rewind? We had such a lovely night! The transition between “Helpless” and “Satisfied” is Hamilton’s greatest magic trick. The former presents a night of unambiguous love and celebration. Then the latter arrives to teach us that there is no such thing as “unambiguous” in Hamilton. In a truly remarkable performance, Angelica Schuyler (Renée Elise Goldsberry) teaches us what really happened the night Hamilton met the Schuyler sisters. Angelica will never be satisfied, and it’s because she’s “a girl in a world in which (her) only job is to marry rich.” Hamilton and Eliza’s story is a love story. But it’s also a story of Angelica’s loss. “Satisfied” imbues the musical with a sense of subtle melancholy that it never quite shakes through to the very end. “Satisfied” is the emotional lynchpin of Hamilton, and as such also its very best song. 
The post Hamilton: Ranking Every Song from the Soundtrack appeared first on Den of Geek.
from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2ZFRzyW
1 note · View note
softspaceboibrian · 5 years
Text
Journeys End in Lovers Meeting (Chapter 3)
Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x reader
Summary: Reader is a new student at Harvard University and, on her first day, she does something she might regret. Or maybe not.
Warnings: mention of a stroke
Wc: 2212
A/N: guys, this chapter is very descriptive. hopefully you won't think it's boring or stuff. don't worry! in the next chapters more is going to happen!!
Previous chapters: 1 - 2 - 4 - 5
Taglist: @tegan-eva (ask if you want to be added)
Tumblr media
On the other hand, you were pretty different, thing that Gwilym grew to love more than he expected himself to. At first, he didn’t notice the peculiar shade of your eyes, or the constant rosy colour of your cheeks. Gosh, he could look at those eyes the entire day if he could; you had intelligent eyes, and whenever you laid them on him, he knew you were thinking about something, you were studying him, noticing the smallest detail that even him had never noticed before; like that time when you walked up to him after the lesson finished and started off with a “Did you know you look a lot like Brian May? You know, the guitarist from Queen”. That made him laugh, at first, but when that night he found himself in front of a mirror, he started staring at his traits and noticed that you were right, as always. You had a beautiful mind that was always working on some new, fresh idea, that would surprise everyone. If you remained silent for a little too long, he would always ask you what you were thinking about and you would probably start answering by saying “What if…” or “Have you ever considered…”. And those amazing ideas usually came with a big dream. “I want to travel to Rome, visit Keats’ house and see his headstone, then do an essay on the impact that his poetry, his works and Romanticism in general is having on modern day culture.” You said one day, out of nowhere, while you were re-reading one of his articles; you were alone in his office, as every other afternoon, he was drinking black coffee, no sugar, just a little bit of cream, while you had your usual mug filled with tea. You changed the tea every couple of weeks: at first, you started with black tea, then, when autumn came, you moved to chai tea. But now the office was filled everyday with the soft smell of mint and honey, fresh and warm at the same time. Just like you, he thought. He also found out he loved to make you laugh: you had a loud laughter, the type that fills the room with joy, that contagious laugh that you cannot hear and stay serious. Your voice, on the contrary, well, your voice was soft, warm, so pleasing to listen to that he would often make you read his essays and articles aloud just to hear it. You loved scented candles, that’s for sure. You even bought an orange chocolate scented one for his studio, just because you thought he might like it. But in general, there’s no doubt you are a poet. You were quiet, your steps were gentle, just like a fairy’s ones. You were quiet because you were always thinking, analysing things and finding in them the smallest, most peculiar details that no one else would notice, taking time to organize your thoughts and ideas, but still struggling to find the right words. That’s probably the main reason why he has often walked in on you reading the entire dictionary for the umpteenth time. You had so many beautiful ideas, and you would always talk about them as if they were your children. “I’m afraid that I won’t be able to express what I’m thinking, to put it into words on paper, and I don’t won’t to ruin it.” You said to him many times; in fact, it had happened more than once that you could not be productive for days, weeks even, and then suddenly write six poems in an hour. But then, there’s this one thing that he read in one of your poems, one thing that stuck with him. «I wish to be enough, someday.» How could someone like you think that you weren’t enough. You were far more than enough. At least to him.
It was the beginning of December, and the first flakes of snow where starting to shyly cover the gardens and sidewalks, there were no longer leaves on the branches of the trees, it was finally that time of the year when he was able to turn on the fire in his little chimney in the evening. And, in fact, you loved spending the evenings over at his place, sometimes crushing on his couch just to enjoy the warmth of the fire. Or maybe you just enjoyed his company over anyone else’s.
The weeks went by and you got to know each other pretty well during your ‘meetings’ or your coffee breaks. Apparently, he was in fact of Welsh heritage, even though he was born in Bristol. He studied English Literature at Cardiff University and then moved to the USA. But, most importantly, he was the most genuine person you had ever known. You liked to look at him when he was busy working. His hair was long, but not too long, and sometimes little stands of hair would fall in front of his face, distracting him for even just a moment. When he was thinking, he would start doodling on the side of the page or on a spare paper. He collected playbills from theatre shows and museum’s pencils. He always had kind words for everyone. His earbuds were always tangled, and it would take him a good minute to untangle them. He always took artsy picture of everything, his dog, the school library, the first fallen leaves from the tree in front of his office’s window. He loved history, learning intriguing facts about historical figures. He liked to always have an open window, unless it was too cold outside. When he smiled, his eyes would brighten up, the corners of his lips go up, little crinkles show up around his eyes. He was also exactly how one would expect a writer to be: his notebooks a mess, full of notes and doodles, and his desk exactly the same, little reminders scattered all over the wooden surface, an empty pen holder, pens and pencils used as bookmarks. And his head too: he always had so many ideas, he was always thinking of a new article, a new story he could try to write, but that he never actually managed to finish; and you noticed that, sometimes, he would scribble stuff that he needed to remember on his hands and arms. He was definitely a night owl: it had happened many times that she would wake up to a text from him that had been sent at three in the morning. He was so passionate about everything that he liked, like that time, during class, when he was explaining Queen Elizabeth I’s Tilbury Speech, he was basically praising not only Queen Elizabeth herself, but her tutor, Roger Ascham, too. You found it adorable. He knew pretty much everything, except for his own limits. He was the kind of person that would try to make flowers bloom, even during heavy storms. But the things that stuck with you the most was the fact that he always found the good in everything.
“Love” That’s how he had been calling you lately, even around school, not really caring about what people would say. “They are doing Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night in a theatre just outside town and they want me to review it” He explained, showing you the email on his phone.
“Well, that’s amazing! When are you going?”
“We are going tonight. The play starts at 7:30, but we have to be there at least half an hour before the beginning of the play, because I have to meet the woman who has to give me the tickets at the reception.”
“Wait…” You stopped him, visibly puzzled “We are going?” You had talked about that many times before, Shakespeare was by far your favourite dramaturg and one of Gwilym’s favourite authors in general. You had often found yourselves debating whether it was Hamlet or Macbeth Shakespeare’s best play, discussing about every detail that made one’s favourite the best one and not the other’s.
“I got two tickets for free and I thought that you might have wanted to come with me. I mean, it’s Twelfth Night. You love it, it’s one of your favourites, isn’t it?”
You were speechless. You didn’t expect that to happen, not at all. Maybe that was the reason you immediately put your arms around him and reached for his cheek to leave a soft kiss, realising only afterwards that you weren’t at home or somewhere else. You were at University and there he was a professor and you were a student. You couldn’t act like that. So you instantly pulled away, your cheeks turning crimson, but he didn’t really seem to mind it.
“It’s a 45 minutes long drive, so I’ll pick you up at 6:00, so we have a few more minutes in case traffic is a mess. We can have dinner afterwards.” He smiled, his eyes on you, finding that look on your face extremely adorable. “Oh and wear a pretty dress.” He laughed while walking away.
Once you were left alone, you could feel the eyes of numerous girls on you, probably whispering to each other, already making assumption about the two of you. All you did at that point was walk out of the building, almost running towards the bus stop, to escape those curious looks rather than to actually get home early.
It was 5:45 and you were already sitting on the couch, a book in your hands, waiting for the man to send you the text saying that he was waiting for you outside. Wear a pretty dress, he said; and that was what you did. One could rarely see you wearing a dress, or anything a little more daring that a simple jeans and a nice blouse. But that time you decided that you could actually wear something different, maybe one of those dresses that your mother had bought for you years before. It was nothing too special, a simple bodycon dress with blue, burnt orange, mustard and white horizontal stripes. Obviously, not wanting to look too formal, you just paired it with a simple blue cardigan and white converse. Furthermore, you had no one to impress, it was only Gwilym, you professor, and in a way, your boss too. Yes, well, he was still really handsome, charming, and you too often found yourself daydreaming about those ocean blue eyes, that made you feel like you didn’t have to worry about your ponytail being perfect or your laugh being too loud. Whenever you were with him, you felt good, you felt as if that was the place where you were meant to be. And that was not good. You could not feel that way about him.
[from James] Hey love, I’m outside. Whenever you’re ready.
You didn’t even reply. You just put your jacket on and sprinted out, forgetting to say goodbye to Rose, who looked at you wondering whether you were acting like that because you were excited to go see one of your favourite plays or because you were basically going on a date with the man you had been talking about non-stop for the last few months.
You and Rose met the first day you came to Cambridge. She knew a new girl was going to live in the room next the hers, but she didn’t expect you to be, well, like you were. At first, you were reserved, she could barely see you outside of your room, but she could easily understand whether you were home or not, because you would always be playing those old records. One day she even caught you singing a little tune, but as soon as you realised she was watching you, you immediately turned red and shut the door. It took her a while before she could actually get to know you, even just a little bit. At first, it was small talks at dinner, random facts that popped up during movie nights. Then you spent a whole day around town, just the two of you, in which she showed you all the nice cafés and libraries where you could go and study without any problem, the restaurants where you could eat without spending too much, the shopping district, even the pretty places you could go to take pictures or take someone on a date. That day Rose found out some of the most important things about you. You were sitting on a bench in JFK Park and the brunette started talking about all times she had taken her parents there whenever they visited her, the things she used to do with them when they still lived together and how proud they were of her. But your response left her speechless. “My mother died two years ago. Stroke.” Your voice was cold, distant, your eyes on the water in front of you. “And my father is so proud of me that he is paying my tuition so that he doesn’t have to see me around the house anymore.” Rose didn’t know what to say, how to act, so she just stood up and offered you to go and eat ice cream. “I know a place that makes the best mint chocolate chip ice cream in town. It’s your favourite, isn’t it?”
62 notes · View notes
ajholdsamb · 5 years
Text
Petra- A world wonder that is truly deserving of the name
Tumblr media
We have spent the past two days in Petra, a 2,000 year old Nabatean city that is carved out of ancient sandstone cliffs and looks like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It is the most famous site in Jordan, receiving over half a million visitors a year. Many people travel to Jordan just to see this site and I can see why. Made famous in modern times by movies like Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Petra was famous long before that as the Nabatean capital city. The Nabateans came from nomadic tribes of desert people, who became extremely wealthy by controlling the trade routes between the Graeco-Roman kingdoms to the west and Indian and Chinese empires to the east. AJ want to insert more backstory here?
[Guy AJ: OK! Petra is to me a reminder of how fortune comes and goes and how it can build but also reduce empires. About 2,300 years ago a group of nomadic Arabs, later to be called the Nabateans, occupied parts of Southern Jordan and happened to be at the right place at the right time. The world was getting smaller and cultures were coming into contact with each other unlike ever before. Alexander the Great had just introduced half a continent to Greek society, sometimes after razing a town to the ground then building it back up with more floral patterns in their columns. Anyway, all this cultural exchange meant people wanted more things from further away places.
Tumblr media
And what better place to be at that time than Jordan? It is located at the converging point of Africa, Europe, and Asia, a crossroads of significance since the first of our species left Africa. The Nabateans controlled trade routes through this important hub, and were able to acquire great wealth from Indian spices on their way to Alexandria and Greek statues passing through to a Red Sea port. They used their wealth to construct massive and awe inspiring tombs in Petra, which AJ and I stared at in amazement over 2,000 years later, but Petra is so much more than a valley for the dead.
Petra is thought to have been a city of several tens of thousands of people, who bartered over goods in markets, practiced religious rites in temples, and debated public policy in the city’s civic center. The remains of these institutions are mostly in rubble in Petra’s basin area, but the thousands and thousands of potsherds we observed walking around are testimony to the many people who lived here in the literal shadows of the dead from the tombs that ring the city.
Petra was incredibly cosmopolitan - the tombs incorporated stepped motifs from Mesopotamia, obelisks from Egypt, and ornate entablatures from Greece. The columns at Petra are distinctly Nabatean, however, with tops that point out like bull horns unlike any other classical style I’ve seen.
Tumblr media
If fortune created Petra than a loss of fortune eroded it. By the time Petra was absorbed by the Roman Empire in the first century AD, new trade routes and greater confidence in seafaring made Petra increasingly obsolete. Although several earthquakes destroyed parts of the city in the following centuries, it is a ruin not from natural disasters but from money drying up and people gradually leaving to find better prospects elsewhere or to return to the way of life of those who founded Petra, herding in the Arabian desert like descendent Bedouin communities do to this day. Petra is a reminder that the good times don’t always last forever, cough, cough USA.]
Now that you have a little backstory, I’ll go into our experiences. Because we saw SO MUCH during our time in Petra, I’m going to write this blog post a little differently. Rather than chronicling everything, I’m going to narrow it down to the top five sites we saw and our top four practical tips. This should give a good overview of our experiences but also not take twenty years to write. Let’s start off with the practical and then get into the fun!
Top Four Practical Tips for visiting Petra
1)Go for more than one day, and stagger your entrance times
This probably increased our enjoyment of Petra tenfold. Through our Jordan Pass (which is a great deal by the way- it includes your visa fee and the entrance fees for every site we are going to visit in Jordan?!) we had bought two days in Petra. If you’re into archaeology, geology, nature, or just like to take it slower I recommend going for at least two days, because Petra is unique and wonderful and huge and there is just so much to see. You can check off the biggest of the sites in one intense sweaty day, but it is so much more enjoyable to take your time.
We decided to start off our first day super early, so we got into the park at the opening time of 6:00. Petra can get really crowded, but at 6:00 the only person there was the one sole ticket taker (we even got confused for a second, thinking that maybe the site was closed). This was such a good way to start off our first day because during the 40-50 min trek in we were often BY OURSELVES. This was especially cool during the walk through the siq, a box canyon with 500 ft. tall walls that meanders magically through to take you to the reveal of Petra’s most famous site- the Treasury. As we were leaving at 1:30 pm this walkway was packed with people and speeding carriages and decidedly less magical.
Tumblr media
Getting in early we were also able to appreciate the main sites without being inundated by other tourists or salespeople. We actually got photos of the Treasury without other people in them! At one point on our first day I was like “wow AJ we’ve done so much already, it must be time for lunch” but it was 8am.
Starting early, we were able to do the intense hike up to the ceremonial high place while the weather was still cool. During the downhill hour and a half meander through the Wadi Farasa trail it started to get hot, so I was very happy to not have to climb a bajillion stairs again. After that we we saw a couple more of the big tombs, but then during the hottest and most crowded part of the day we were able to peace out without guilt because we knew we had another day. It was only 1 pm when we began the hour trek home, but by that point we had already had a full 7 hour day.
On our second day, we slept in and got started at 10. We actually began at the museum (which is really well done!) so we didn’t make it into the park until 11:00. Because we had already seen a lot of the main sites we were able to walk straight through to the parts we hadn’t seen and take our time. Then in the mid afternoon we began our all uphill hike to Petra’s Monastery.
I was worried about hiking uphill during the hottest part of the day but because we had gotten a late started we had energy, and a good chunk of the path was shady (side note-this is supposed to be one of Petra’s low seasons because it supposedly gets so hot, but it was in the 80s for us- not too bad!). We were able to have a picnic and enjoy the views, and then walk back through Petra during golden hour right before sunset. Again, there were almost no people! I think many visitors do a quick one day tour where they come in between 10-11 and only stay for a couple of hours. It was so nice to have the full two days in Petra, to get it when it was not crowded, and to see it in the different types of sunlight.
2) Think of the practicalities (you’re going to be doing a lot of hiking)
So real talk, AJ and I looked like dorks in Petra. We were wearing long sleeve tactical hiking gear with pants and had backpacks on with 10 liters of water and snacks (& when I say WE carried 10 liters of water I really mean guy AJ did, he’s such a beast). And yet we saw people in fancy dresses and high heels with no water?? Granted not everyone has to hike for 8 hours a day like we did, but it’s still at least a 50 min hike in through the dirt. You can buy water in the site, but it is way overpriced and it was nice to never have to worry about getting stranded somewhere without it. Plus we drank all of it and never got dehydration headaches👌🏻. It’s also fun to pack in a picnic to enjoy in the park. There are a couple restaurants in the site, but if you bring your own you can pick your spot (with lots of awesome views to choose from). There are also toilets on site, but it’s good to bring tp and handsanitizer because they are often not well stocked. Since it gets super sunny, wearing pants and a long sleeve t-shirt was clutch for the rocky trails, sun protection, and out of respect because despite tourist short shorts, we are still in a Muslim county.
Tumblr media
If nothing else, at least wear tennis shoes and bring water.
3) Climb to some high places and get some views!
We did two uphill hikes while in Petra, one to the Ceremonial High Place (for ceremonies) and one to the Monastery. We took both slowly, and while they were steep & straight up hill, there were steps that made them doable. Each climb took about 45-60 minutes one way, with lots of breaks. The views at the end made them all worthwhile. It allowed us to pull back and really see the landscape of the wadi (valley). Both hikes ended up being two of our favorite aspects of Petra- so I’ll talk more about them later.
Tumblr media
4) Don’t just try to check off all the main sites- go off the beaten path
Maybe because I had only really seen pictures of the Treasury, I didn’t realize before visiting how large Petra is. Since it was a complex city, the site is spread out and there are SO many places to see. On our first big day I realized just how exhausting trying to check off all the big ones in one day truly is. Some of our favorite aspects were going off the beaten path and exploring random less famous aspects of Petra. It’s fun to find your favorite tomb or take a rest on a side trail, all of which you don’t have time for if you’re trying to power through all the greatest hits.
Now on to the fun stuff!
Top Five Sites of Petra
5)Exploring the unnamed tombs
Tumblr media
This fits in very well with our last tip from above. At around 7:15 am after hiking through the siq and spending some time at the treasury, we wandered off the main path to explore some of the unnamed tombs. Each tomb is different, it is fun to pick out your favorites and think about the people who would’ve been buried here or celebrated in these smaller places. They are more intimate than the larger tombs, and it feels really adventurous to get to walk around in these ancient buildings. The sandstone is often gorgeous, and it was really peaceful to take a break in these cool chambers. Also AJ named one the tomb of the drunken sailor cuz it was slanted.
4)Wandering through the Siq
Walking through the siq was a magical experience every time it happened, but especially without crowds and in the light at dawn and dusk. The first time it came as a surprise. We were hiking down from the visitors center when all of the sudden the landscape changed and we were at the entrance to the Siq, a 500 ft. tall canyon with imposing walls that almost block out the sun. Running along the path you can still see the distinct curves used for the Nabatean irrigation system. There are sculptures hidden along the pathway including the remains of what would’ve been a 10 ft. tall camel carving. You can see why the Nabateans would have chosen this geologic feature as their grand entrance, and it served to create a sense of magic for entering this special place.
3)Hiking the Wadi Farasa Trail
Tumblr media
On the first day after I thought we’d be in Petra for months but it was only 8 o’clock, we started our hike up to the Sacrificial High Place. I’m glad we started early because it was a steep 45 minute hike and at 8am it wasn’t too hot. After a brief kerfuffle with a donkey (a Bedouin woman was trying to call it to her but we kept accidentally scaring it uphill), we made it to the top! There are panoramic views of Petra, including Aaron’s tomb. This was a sacred place where the Nabateans worshipped the sun and moon with a built in blood drain for sacrifices. It’s easy to tell why it is sacred- up there it’s so easy to feel close to the sky. AJ and I took a moment to lie down on the top to worship the celestial deities as the sun and morning moon faced off above us. Also, it was a tiring hike and we needed to lie down. Next, rather than going back down the steep way we came, we took the Wadi Farasa trail. There was all sorts of cool archaeology (a giant lion fountain!) and geology (sandstone with manganese and iron stripes!) to see on the way down. My favorite part was the the combination of the tomb of the Roman soldier and the garden triclinium because they are directly across from each other, and with the rubble from the column lined promenade it was easy to picture how the ancient people would’ve used this beautiful space.
2)The hike to the Monastery/the end of the world
Tumblr media
Our second favorite site was on our other high place trek. This one we did in the late afternoon, and since it is through a canyon it was often shaded. We had a picnic lunch at the top in front of the monastery (one of the largest tombs in Petra that was later turned into a church). However, my favorite part was a spot beyond the monastery. We hiked 15 minutes further to the edge of the mountain to this little Bedouin tent & the views were INSANE! We could see so many mountain ranges come together to into this steep valley, with a convergence of different types of rocks. Guy AJ liked it because, in his words, “we’ve finally reached the edge of Petra.” In other words it was the first time we looked out and didn’t see any archaeology; we had found an end to this seemingly endless site. It was one of the prettiest places I’ve ever seen.
1)The Treasury reveal
The treasury (or the Khazneh) is the most famous site in all of Petra. Its location is featured in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, as well as countless other movies. In person the detail and scope is awe inspiring, and made all the more impressive by the long walk we had just had through the Siq. The first time the canyon opens up we saw this amazing 2,000 year old building. It was wonderful to get it almost to ourselves in the morning, and we also got to say goodbye without the crowds on the last day. It’s the most famous part of Petra, but for a good reason.
Tumblr media
All in all Petra is one of the coolest places I’ve ever seen, a highlight of this trip and of my life.
Love,
The very impressed Ajs
4 notes · View notes
tenfifteenthirteen · 5 years
Text
Patrick Kane Credits Tomahawk Science For Helping Him Hit Peak Performance At Age 30
After guiding Patrick Kane to the best statistical season of his career, sport scientist Ian Mack is opening up his innovative training approach to more hockey players in Chicago this summer.
Mack’s Tomahawk Science emphasizes an integrative strategy that includes training, treatment, recovery and nutrition — and de-emphasizes working in the weight room.
“A lot of what we do is movement-specific,” said Mack, who doesn’t believe that bulking up is the necessarily the best approach for a smaller player like Kane. “I think traditionally in hockey — what I've seen, at least — is that if you see somebody who looks smaller than everybody else who's out there, the strength coach or whoever's been working with him might say 'Hey, that guy's small. Let's make him big.'
“That's one way to look at it. The other way to look at it is to say 'Well, he's already one of the better players in the league and he’s small, so it might not just be about being big or small. It might be about — he has other advantages that other people don't have. What are those and how can we feed into those and give him more of those advantages?”
Kane is a three-time Stanley Cup winner and was the NHL's scoring champion and most valuable player in 2015-16. He signed on with Mack after his production dipped below a point per game for the first time in six years during the 2017-18 season, when he had 76 points in 82 games.
“The mechanics of skating, in general, can shorten or tighten a lot of these guys in their hips and shoulders, and sometimes when you lift them really heavy, that's feeding into that imbalance,” said Mack. “For Patrick, we kind of loosened him up and we got him moving a little bit better. I told him it was knocking the rust off.”
“The big thing that got me was when I went in and he was asking me to do certain things,” said Kane. “Not laughing at me, but very surprised at how little mobility and how little of the body I was actually using. He said, ‘You're probably using 60% of what you're capable of with your body.’ That really hit home with me.
“With the training, I definitely felt certain things open up, and my body be able to move better. That's a big part of my game, to be able to move my body on the ice, be able to go in and out of guys and ask my body to move laterally a lot. It made a lot of sense.”
The training delivered results almost immediately. After working with Mack for just a few weeks last spring, Kane captained Team USA to a bronze medal at the 2018 world hockey championship. He was the tournament’s leading scorer, with 20 points in 10 games, and was named MVP.
“I like the big ice,” said Kane about playing in Denmark last spring. “As an offensive player, you're going to get a lot more space, you're going to have a lot more room to make plays and do the things you want to with the puck, so it's just different hockey. I really enjoyed my time in the tournament. I felt really good throughout. I think as the tournament went on, I was even getting more and more ice time, so that's always fun, to be counted on a little bit more.”
“The transferability (of the training) did seem to be pretty quick,” agreed Mack. “He actually shot me a note when he was over there, and he was like 'Hey, I know it's only been a couple of weeks, but I feel scary good right now.'”
Kane worked with Mack throughout the summer after he returned to North America. With the increased focus on mobility over strength, he started the 2018-19 season down 12 pounds from his previous playing weight, and dropped in for tune-up sessions throughout the Blackhawks’ year.
The result? Career highs of 110 points and 22:29 of average ice time per game, with no games lost to injury. At season's end, Kane was voted a finalist for the 2019 Ted Lindsay Award, the MVP award voted by the players.
Kane says Mack’s training approach played a “huge part” in his success over the last year. “I think it helped a lot. How I was able to feel on the ice, how I was able to ask my body to endure a lot more minutes.
“I felt good throughout the season too,” he added. “I think the biggest thing is that you're not really beating your body down every day. You're not asking so much of it. You're building it back up every day and then once the season comes around and even during the season, you're able to really feel good every day and every game.”
“Usually, if somebody improves by 45% statistically, it's because they scored 10 points in their rookie year and then the next year they got put on the power play and ended up getting more ice time,” said Mack. “Patrick, going from 76 to 110 — that's a big jump.
As the NHL skews younger, Kane is peaking at age 30 — and might be just getting started.
“We want to work on prolonging the peak of his career and then prolonging his career as well, and also making sure that he could feel good with his body for the rest of his life,” said Mack. “Even if he plays to — I don’t know, 40 or 50 — he still has to live to be 100 or 110. We want to make sure that his body mechanics are good going forward as opposed to just for his sport.”
“I think Ian deserves a lot of credit,” said Kane about his success over the last year. “He’s very smart.
“He's not afraid to put a lot of work in, especially during the summer. We can go up to two and a half hour sessions. So far this summer, I've probably been in 10 to 15 times already, getting right back at it. My body has changed a lot; I'm kind of used to it more, what he's asking for in these workouts, and hopefully it keeps progressing here.
“Usually you don't see guys get better and better into their 30s. I think the cool thing to hear from Ian is that he sees even more potential, not just this year but down the road. So, keep working at it.”
Mack praises Kane for his natural gifts. “He's a quick study. As soon as you cue him on one or two things, he immediately gets it and if he doesn't, he asks really high-level questions.
“Intellectually, he's one of the smartest athletes I've ever worked with, for sure. His processing speed is amazing. Obviously, his hands and his fine motor skills are great.”
“He pace rabbits, because he works so hard,” Mack said. “He's one of those guys who shows up early, stays late, does everything he's supposed to do, always. He can tell you what he's eating next Wednesday at 10:30 a.m. He knows how many hours he's going to sleep.
“It’s cool to see, because how many guys are at the top of their game in the entire world and they're still trying to pick up every little millimeter that they can? He trains like the underdog even when he's not, and I just love that about him. He's been very influential for us, he's been very inspiring for us.”
May 2, 2019
3 notes · View notes
canaryatlaw · 5 years
Text
alright, so today was overall pretty good. My alarm went off at 8:15 am and I successfully convinced myself to get out of bed, so that was of course a win in itself. Got ready and caught the 9:02 bus, which put me perfectly on track to get there in time for the 10 am service since it’s almost exactly an hour commute from my apartment to the church. The bus ride is shorter early Sunday mornings of course since the roads are more clear and there are less people making stops, so by the time we got to the train station it was just about 9:25, the train plus short walk after is generally about 25 minutes. I have literally everything in my life precisely timed, which makes it that much more infuriating when Chicago public transit decides to throw a wrench in my schedule. I entered the train station, swiped my card and got up to the platform, only to find out the next train wasn’t coming for another 18 minutes now, so it wouldn’t get there until like 9:45, which doesn’t get me to church until like 10:15, meaning I’d miss most of worship and at that point I was like mmm no thanks, so I left the train station and checked the time estimations on uber and uber pool and decided I’d risk a pool to save money and hope the drive isn’t too bad. It ended up being pretty much perfect, I walked a few blocks to get picked up but from there church was the next stop so I ended up getting there at like 9:50 with time to spare before they even opened the doors to the sanctuary (they have a really short turnover time between services to make sure there are bibles and welcome cards at each seat and such so the doors generally open 5 minutes prior to the service). When I did get in I sat on the edge of the row towards the back since I was gonna try to sneak out on time to get to the huddle for the babies room for the next service since I was serving in there for then. Worship was good, the message ended up being on vulnerability and what it is and isn’t and why it’s important to show real vulnerability to those in our lives, delivered by one of my favorite members of the church board, so that was very good. when it turned 11 I snuck out to head to the kids volunteers lounge and it ended up being empty so I was like...did I mess this up? lol. It turns out I didn’t, most other people were just running late, but I got to catch up with the kids ministry pastor which was good because I’d been MIA for several weeks now (the explanation for which ended up being “I got a job and things have been really crazy” instead of the truthful “I lost the willpower to get out of bed on Sunday morning for several weeks and I’ve also been traveling a lot” just because that was an easier answer and got the job info out). so that was good at least. The babies room went well, we had a good number of employees, I had a little girl that I was handed from her parents in the door and then she refused to let me put her down the entire service so that was what I did the whole time, lol. Babies are like that sometimes in the nursery, they’ll get attached to one person and then won’t leave their side. Things were actually very calm though, I honestly don’t think there were any real crying incidents, which is a fucking miracle, even with only 5-6 babies. I’ve always said though there’s only two ways it goes in there- either everyone’s calm and playing nicely with no crying, or everyone’s screaming and something’s on fire, no in between lol. After the service I headed home and had to wait for fucking ever for a train, it was the weirdest thing, the first two trains that pulled up had both just been declared “not in service” and dumped all their passengers on the platform with no explanation, so by the time the 3rd train came like 20 minutes after I got there it was VERY crowded, but I survived and got to the bus alright. When I went to sit on the bunch for the bus stop a girl about my age came over and showed me directions on her phone and was basically like “am I in the right place??” which I assured her she was and showed her where on the sign it has the info she was looking for, because for a newbie figuring all of that out can be very difficult, and I definitely speak from experience there. It also occurred to me that there were other people waiting there but she waited for a woman about her age to come to ask because that’s a lot more comfortable than risking talking to a random man who might be a creep, so I was happy to help of course. Got home, got into comfy clothes and had some lunch, then watched a few more episodes of Designated Survivor and AH. GUYS. THIS FUCKING SHOW IS SO GOOD. The new episodes are fucking brilliant, and the way they incorporate real world unscripted interviews of actual people is so ingenuitive and actually a genius way to address social issues while maintaining a fictional environment (versus something like, Glee, where they’re trying to cover everything under the sun and shoving it all down your throat constantly). And the storylines in general are just so good, and the writing for the president is so damn good because you are always rooting for him. he has to make tough calls where there’s not always a clear right answer, but he always seems to pull it out and find the best way forward, and it’s so satisfying to see. and I LOVE KIEFER SUTHERLAND SO MUCH. god, his line at the Florida con last month was sooooo fucking long (like 2-3 hours of waiting time long) but I would’ve loved to have seen him again. Hopefully the opportunity will present itself in the near future so I can gush about how much I love the new episodes, lol. I didn’t want to binge too many of them and run out of episodes, so I stopped after episode 7 and watched more Anthony Bourdain, where he was taking on Queens, which was quite the adventure. After I finished that at some time around there Jess came over and we ordered cheesy bread as was the plan, but there was apparently some issue with the store getting swamped with orders and only having like two delivery drivers, so it took like over an hour for us to get the dang thing, but of course I’d never blame that on the poor schmuck who brought me the cheesy bread that has to run around all night to people who are probably ticked their order is late, and of course I tipped him well because the wait sure as hell wasn’t his fault. Before it arrived though, we watched some videos of some of the KPop boys’ adventures in America and Chicago specifically, mainly the one kid from outside Chicago and the one from Canada were going around with one of the ones actually from Korea (they’re all of Korean descent, they just weren’t all raised there) and taking him to like, Target and doing all sorts of amusing shit that is legit just what we would be doing if we were celebrities, so that was very amusing. Once we were finished with that we ended up buying Captain Marvel on streaming, since I’m sure as hell gonna wanna watch it again probably in the near future, so then we watched that for the rest of the night. Thoroughly enjoyed it the second time through, of course you pick up on different things knowing what’s coming so that’s always fun to see. Once the movie was over Jess headed out, and I watched another Anthony Bourdain episode and then just hung out for a bit without anything on before deciding to shower and start to get ready for bed, which I proceeded to do and now I am here. This was probably way too detailed for a day that really wasn’t all that exciting, but oh well, that’s how it comes out sometimes, no issue with that. It just turned 1:30 am so I should definitely be getting to sleep, so I will be doing that now. Goodnight loves. Hope your Monday doesn’t suck.
1 note · View note
saintedfury · 6 years
Note
✩ Furia & Gat (inquiring eyebrows want to know)
The Ultimate Relationship Tag
Disagreements:
Who is more likely to raise their voice?Johnny, though even that is rare. Furia characteristically gets extremely quiet when she’s upset. Though when she is amused, she’ll raise her voice in laughter. 
Who threatens to leave but never actually does?I’m not sure that this would be a threat that either of them would ever use. Especially not given their past. 
Who actually keeps their word and leaves?Honestly, I think if either of them said they were leaving they would follow through with it. Neither of them are likely to make a threat that they would not carry out. 
Who trashes the house?I think both of these two are fairly orderly, but can both create a mess given half the chance. Like big meals–Furia can leave a hell of a mess in the kitchen. 
Do either of them get physical?I’m going to assume that this does not mean them physically abusing one another in anger. They spar with one another from time to time. And neither of them will run from a fight, in fact both of them are likely to go looking for one.
How often do they argue/disagree?Somewhat regularly. Though usually not about huge concerns. 
Who is the first to apologise?I’m not even sure. I think it will depend on who is in the wrong. I know Furia will only apologize if she feels she was the wrongdoer. Johnny is the same way. Neither of them will apologize for something they do not feel responsible for. Though it has taken them quite a while to come to that moment in their lives–apologizing without it being viewed as weakness.
Sex:
Who is on top?Most often, Johnny. But Furia does occasionally top him. 
Who is on the bottom?Most often, it’s Furia, but that’s by her own choice usually. She trusts laying control over into Johnny’s hands, especially in times when she might be feeling overwhelmed in other sectors of her life. 
Who has the strangest desires?This might just be Furia. She enjoys watching and being watched, being touched and caressed and kissed. Sometimes she likes to be dominant, other times she likes to be submissive to her lover. Her desires shift … on a dime so to speak. 
Any kinks?Yes. 
Who’s dominant in bed?They both can be, but in a lot of ways, Furia is the most dominant by which I mean that it is her preferences that often define what happens in bed even if it’s Johnny controlling the situation.
Is head ever in the equation?Yes. Quite regularly.
If so, who is better at performing it?Both of them. Though it is likely that Johnny’s performed it more since it happens almost every time there is foreplay. 
Ever had sex in public?No. Not yet. 
Who moans the most?Furia. Johnny is a bit more quiet in bed than she is.
Who leaves the most marks?She is also the most likely to leave bite marks, scratches, et al.
Who screams the loudest?Again, Furia.
Who is the more experienced of the two?Thinking on it. They are probably pretty equal here. Johnny’s had his fair share of lovers and so has Furia.
Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?Yes. When come right down to it, the choice it more about the moment and the desire fueling it. 
Rough or soft?Again, yes. Like the above, it is dependent on the moment and the situation. 
How long do they usually last?Furia would gladly go for hours depending on the type of sex. That’s not always feasible or in the schedule. And like any couple, they aren’t averse to a quickie here and there. But typically I’d say 30-45 minutes, with longer and shorter exchanges, of course.
Is protection used?Yes. They hadn’t moved past that point yet. And if they were to start up again, they would do so then as well. 
Does it ever get boring?They hadn’t really been together long enough to find that moment of boredom yet. But I’m sure that there is possibly a point where things might become a touch rote. Of course, both have had long term relationships and have some ideas for how to deal with those situations.
Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? Hmm. I think that it’s possible that this might have been the throne of a conquered alien world. It was kind of a strange, frantic moment.
Family:
Do your muses plan on having children/or have children?Not at this time. Though the possibility has fluttered into Furia’s mind once or twice.
If so, how many children do your muses want/have?None.
Who is the favorite parent?Not applicable. Though in the case that if might happen, I think it’s likely that Johnny would be the favorite. Due to the answer to the next question.
Who is the authoritative parent?I think it most likely that Furia would be the more authoritative of the two. Though I could be wrong.
Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school?Johnny.
Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around?Both actually. 
Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children?Both. 
Who goes to parent teacher interviews?Furia. 
Who changes the diapers?Both, though Furia more often, I think.
Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby?I really think this is a duty they would split. 
Who spends the most time with the children?Again I don’t think there would be a “most,” because I think they would both spend a great deal of time with their kids, if they had them.
Who packs their lunch boxes?Furia.
Who gives their children ‘the talk’?Furia.
Who cleans up after the kids?Furia.
Who worries the most?Johnny.
Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from?In English and Korean, Johnny. Spanish, Furia.
Affection:
Who likes to cuddle?Furia. Though Johnny enjoys having her close.
Who is the little spoon?Most often, it is Furia, but sometimes it ends up Johnny. And he’s more partial to it than he’ll probably admit to.
Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?Furia. She loves to touch him and sometimes it leads to more.
Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?  Furia. 
How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?Furia could do it for days. Johnny is usually good for a while until his arm falls asleep, which given a decent position can be as long as an hour or two.
Who gives the most kisses?Furia.
What is their favourite non-sexual activity?Furia would say dancing, even though she can’t get him to join her on the floor that often. Johnny would say anything involving a little mayhem. 
Where is their favourite place to cuddle?Furia … everywhere. For Johnny the best place for cuddling is bed.
Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? I’m not sure either of them do this. Furia is not particularly forgiving of this kind of behavior. She put up with it when she tended bar, but did not stomach it once she joined the Saints. 
How often do they get time to themselves?Quite regularly. They aren’t together 24-7, so they get alone time for themselves, but they also take time out to do their own thing from time to time. It’s just the nature of being a human in a relationship, they aren’t joined at the hip.
Sleeping:
Who snores?Johnny, I think. At least, he seems the most likely of the two. 
Do they share a bed or sleep separately?When they were in a relationship, they shared a bed. 
If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?And they tend to cozy up.
Who talks in their sleep?Furia. Though not often.
What do they wear to bed?Nothing.
Are either of your muses insomniacs?Furia does have sleep trouble, both falling asleep and staying asleep.
Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?No.
Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?They are wrap each other up people.
Who wakes up with bed hair?Johnny’s is usually more out of control than Furia’s, because hers is longer.
Who wakes up first?Furia. 
Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other?Furia.
What is their favourite sleeping position?Furia likes being draped over Johnny’s chest. Johnny prefers to lay on his side, cuddling with her when she’s in his bed. 
Who hogs the sheets?Johnny.
Do they set an alarm each night?No.
Can a television be found in their bedroom?No.
Who has nightmares?Both of them. 
Who has ridiculous dreams?Furia.
Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Furia.
Who makes the bed? Both of them, Johnny most of the time.
What time is bed time? Late, late at night.
Any routines/rituals before bed?General nighttime hygiene–brushing hair, teeth, etc. Sometimes a warm bath, for Furia.
Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?Furia, at least before coffee.
Work:
Who is the busiest?Furia, probably. Though they are both quite busy with the tasks of their positions, which intersect. 
Who rakes in the highest income?Technically Furia, because her share is larger. 
Are any of your muses unemployed?No. 
Who takes the most sick days?I don’t really think this is likely either of them. It doesn’t seem like something they would ever do.
Who is more likely to turn up late to work?Neither.
Who sucks up to their boss?Literally, Johnny. Technically.
What are their jobs?Furia is the head of the Inter-Galactic Alliance.
Who stresses the most?Furia. By far.
Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations?Most of the time. There are times when the change in Furia’s profession takes a bit of a toll on her, but that seems to be most due to the stress involved. 
Are your muses financially stable? Yes.
Home:
Who does the washing?At the time they were together, neither of them. Furia employs people that handle that. 
Who takes out the trash?See above answer.
Who does the ironing?See above.
Who does the cooking?For the most part, see above. Though Furia still loves to cook it centers her mind in a way few things can anymore.
Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying?Neither. Johnny is actually pretty handy in the kitchen.
Who is messier? Overall, I think Furia is the messier of the two, though they are both pretty neat. Johnny I think is far more ordered than Furia is.
Who leaves the toilet roll empty?This is an interesting question. And I’m not sure. I know Furia would change it … again her upbringing kind of drummed that into her.
I think it might be Johnny. 
Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor?They’ve both been known to strip and just leave their clothes wherever they landed, but both of them prefer a clean/ordered space so they are likely to pick it up the next morning. 
Who forgets to flush the toilet?Neither. Furia grew up in a house with 9 people in it. And Johnny doesn’t because Aisha did not put up with that nonsense.
Who is the prankster around the house?Oh I think they would both vie for this title.
Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere?Johnny is the most likely to lose the keys. For Furia keys are often an afterthought.
Who mows the lawn?Outsourced
Who answers the telephone?They each answer their own cellphones, and Zinjai (and sometimes CID) answers Furia’s other lines
Who does the vacuuming?Outsourced
Who does the groceries?Outsourced.
Who takes the longest to shower?Furia. More hair to wash, along with other grooming options.
Who spends the most time in the bathroom?Johnny. That hair doesn’t come naturally.
Miscellaneous:
Is money a problem?No.
How many cars do they own?Furia has always kept cars. Though she has far fewer now--both in Bossville and back in her universe.
Do they own their home or do they rent?Technically, own.
Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside?She lives in the capitol of Zin which is a port--air, sea, and space.
Do they live in the city or in the country? The city. Furia is not a country girl by any stretch of the imagination.
Do they enjoy their surroundings?Yes. She loves the city, prefers it really.
What’s their song?Furia would jokingly say it was Danger Zone. Johnny would disagree and retaliate with a suggestion like Black Magic Woman.
What do they do when they’re away from each other?Johnny tends to worry because he knows that more than likely she is getting herself into some kind of trouble. Of course, she tends to think the same thing. But they just kind of ... do their own thing. They aren’t together all the time, but I think  they do pine for one another, I know they do.
Where did they first meet?The graveyard in Stilwater. 
How did they first meet?She showed up at Julius’ invitation.
Who spends the most money when out shopping?Furia.
Who’s more likely to flash their assets?Furia.
Who finds it amusing when the other trips over?Johnny.
Any mental issues?Maybe a bit of PTSD and some depression. A little anxiety.
Who’s terrified of bugs?Neither. Though Furia’s not really a fan.
Who kills the spiders around the house?Johnny, because she asks.
Their favourite place?Together? All sorts of places ... gun range, the gym, she’ll drag him out dancing. 
Who pays the bills?Neither. 
Do they have any fears for their future?Furia always fears losing people. Even if she can’t do a damn thing to stop it. Johnny I think worries about the same thing ... perhaps also that he won’t be able to stop something from happening to her. And I think they both worry about hurting one another.
Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner?Furia. 
Who uses up all of the hot water? Furia.
Who’s the tallest?Johnny, by about 7 inches or so.
Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?Oh I think they are both equally as likely to do this. Both using the same excuse--it’ll save water.
Who wanders around in their underwear?Furia. On purpose, just to get his attention. Though Johnny’s not above a little strutting in his skivvies.
Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?Furia (and Pierce).
What do they tease each other about?Johnny always goes after her over her fighting prowess. Even though they are about even in terms of wins/losses. She teases him about his hair--how long it takes him to get his hair perfect.
Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?I’m not sure either of them would do this. The pair of them are both pretty stylish. Though Furia’s more adventurous in her choices sometimes. 
Do they have mutual friends?Yes. Most of their friends are mutual ones.
Who crushed first? Oh, good question. I really think it might have to have been Furia. Though Johnny always “appreciated” her.
Any alcohol or substance related problems?No. 
Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am?Both of them. Probably from out drinking together and getting into a bar fight if they’re lucky. 
Who swears the most?In Spanish, Furia. In Korean, Johnny. In English, it’s a toss up.
16 notes · View notes