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cloudlessly-light · 5 months

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Hi. Can you write something about Emily being obsessed with Aarons arms pls …

Title: Seems you cannot be replaced (Chapter 5/7) Summary: It shouldn’t have happened, but they were drunk. It shouldn’t have happened but it felt right. It shouldn’t have happened but now it has. It shouldn’t have happened now they have to deal with it.

Or, Emily always leaves before he wakes up, but she always leaves a note. Word Count: 3,3k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, oral, dirty talk, feels

“I’m sorry.” She whispers it in the quiet elevator the next morning as they’re getting ready to leave.

He’s standing in front of her, back turned. They’re alone and Emily wants to disappear. She hadn’t counted on them being alone so quickly, hadn’t expected not to give them both some more time to digest that she left him. Again.

Guilt was seeping through her body, like every nerve was set ablaze by regret and had been ever since she wrote her message only a few hours before.

“Aaron?” She tries softly and reaches for him, but the second her hand lands on his upper arm he takes a step forward.

“I don’t need an apology.” He says just moments before the doors open and reveals the team standing in the lobby, already waiting for them bags in hand. “I need you to give me some time. You know what I want, how I feel, if you can’t give me that then you need to give me some time.”

She knows he’s right, she knows that she’s the one that’s hurting him. So she sucks in a long breath as he walks away. It doesn’t matter that she knows that she’s made a mistake, not when she could hear the heartbreak in his voice, could see the hurt in his eyes.

It was her choice, and now she’d has to live with the consequences.

“Hey, Prentiss. You good?” Derek’s familiar voice comes from behind her. It’s been a few days since Texas, since that night and Emily knows that the team’s picked up on something. She’s been tired, easily irritated in a way that she normally wasn’t.

“Yeah. Just a bad week.” She turns in her chair and forces a smile that she hopes looks genuine. “Not enough sleep, you know how it goes.”

“Is it-” He stops himself, eyes flittering quicky to the bruise that’s still on her wrist, finger shaped blues, greens and yellows coloring her skin. “Is it because of the case? Because of-”

“No this has nothing to do with the case.” She cuts him off and she can tell that Derek knows he’s overstepped. “I’m fine Morgan, really.” She stands up and squeezes his shoulder. “But thank you for caring.” Her voice was genuine now, because as much as she didn’t want her friends to meddle in her life, she appreciated that they cared.

“Anytime, Princess.”

It’s not even a week later and they’re flying to New York. Things are still strained between them, clipped words and sharp sentences that she doesn’t mind because she knows that Aaron, just like her, aren’t granted the privilege to put physical space between each other. He’s hurting and trying to cope the best he can. So she gives him that.

The second she hears about Kate Joyner she feels annoyed, the subtle dig Dave makes, the knowing looks between JJ and Spencer, it all bugs her. Jealousy she knows she has no right to feel rooting in her stomach and stays there. It doesn’t help that the woman is stunning, a copy of his ex-wife and Emily forces a joke to JJ but all she wants is to drag Aaron out of the office the blonde had just dragged him into.

The jealousy doesn’t go away, even if she manages to subdue it in between fired shots and detective Sam Cooper who she’s seen right through. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy the banter, the easiness of it. It also didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes.

And then the unsub stops mid-chase and shoots him, so she fires back and for a split second everything stops.

Her mind is still reeling as Cooper is being driven off in an ambulance, his blood still on her hands. Aaron is there, he shows up with Joyner but his eyes are on her and she can tell that he’s looking to see if she’s hurt, a slight franticness to him as he does. But she’s okay, gives him a nod and then he continues to talk to Dave and Spencer.

When they regroup it all makes sense. They aren’t dealing with a group of unsubs, they’re dealing with terrorists.

There’s been an explosion, and everything is chaos. There’s been an explosion and she’s been driving like a maniac to find her team. There’s been an explosion and Aaron isn’t there. Aaron isn’t there.

She can’t think about anything else, can’t think about anything other than that he is gone and she knows in her gut that something is wrong. Then Penelope tells them what’s happened and she breathes a sigh of relief because he’s okay, even as her body is filled with disgust because Kate is hurt, badly. She knows she shouldn’t feel relief, but she does because Aaron wasn’t in the car, he isn’t dead.

She’s the first one to say that she’s going to the hospital, she needed to see him, needed to make sure he was still alive.

“I’m fine.”

She hears his voice just as a doctor pushes back a curtain and she follows him quickly.

“Where are my clothes, please?”

“Lay down.”

The sound of her voice seems to surprise him just enough to make him stop.

“I said, lay down and let them do their job.” She says again, staring him down as her arms cross over her chest. To her own surprise he listens.

“Can you give us a minute?” She turns to the doctor who nods, seemingly more than happy that someone else would take over. Once they’re alone she stands planted at the foot of the gurney, glaring at him and he glares right back.

“Has anything happened since the blast?” He asks and she feels rage curse through her.

“You could have died.” She ignores the way her voice shakes but knows that he hears it.

“Emily-”’

“No, Aaron no.” She cuts him off and he sits up, his feet already on the floor before she manages to push him in the chest to keep him from getting up. It doesn’t hurt him, barely makes him budge but he stays sitting on the edge of the bed. “You could have died tonight and we are still in this mess.” A single tear falls down her cheek and he carefully wipes it away.

“But I didn’t.” He says softly and she fights a sob that wants to erupt. “I didn’t die.”

“What if I- fuck Aaron I didn’t know- all I could think about.” She starts her sentence over and over. This isn’t the time or the place, she knows that. But she also knows that not telling him how she felt was impossible, not after having thought that she’d lost him.

He seems to realize too, his eyes gentle and warm as he waits for her to tell him what they both knew, what they had been fighting for weeks now.

“I didn’t.” He whispers and closes her eyes tight, like she’s trying to rid herself of the memories. “I’m right here, I didn’t die.”

“You could have.” She repeats and his warm, large hands move to gently hold her hips, the simple touch nudging her the last bit to say what she needed. “I-I can’t lose you. I’m falling in love with you.”

For a few seconds he stays completely silent, eyes on her, face almost an unreadable and she thinks that she’s too late. But then he smiles.

“So what I needed to do was to almost get blown up for you to admit your feelings?” His words make her chuckle, even as a few more tears fall from her eyes.

“You’re such an ass.”

When they kiss it’s soft, a promise of more and for those few seconds, nothing existed but them.

But of course they’re in the middle of a terrorist attack, Kate has died, and they don’t have time for much more. The team shows up, and as they’re putting the last few pieces together Derek, as brave as he is, drives off with a bomb in a way that Emily would later call stupid.

“I saved all of us.” He defends as they all get ready to leave for the airport the next day. Except Emily and Aaron, they’re driving back.

“Yeah, you’re still and idiot.” She teases just as Aaron walks out and gives her a nod.

“Hey, you’re sure you want to drive back to Washington? I could do it.” Derek offers and she smiles because he has no idea just how much she wants to be alone with Aaron right now.

“I’m good Morgan. I’ll see you at the office.”

When she gets in the driver’s seat, Aaron is already seated in the passenger seat.

“Ready to get going?” She asks and he nods with a smile.

“Did you tell him?” He gestures to Derek who’s about to get into the car and drive away.

“No, let’s keep this between us. For a while.” She feels his warm hand on her thigh and she places her own over his and gives his hand a squeeze.

Three weeks later

They’ve been together only for a few weeks when Emily wakes up with Aaron’s strong arm around her middle. They had spent almost every night together, getting to know each other as more than friends and colleagues and she came to find that it was easy to differentiate Aaron from Hotch. She wakes up before him, something that was rare but she loved when she got to enjoy him as he relaxed against her.

She let her eyes drift over his strong arm, the comfort of the slight heaviness something she’s gotten used to. She looked over his arm, from where his fingers twitched slightly as he slept, to the dark hair starting low on his wrist that she can’t help but to gently trace with her finger. His muscle jumped and she knew he was waking up so she turned from where she was lying on her side.

“Morning sweetheart.” He mumbled, voice rough from sleep and she couldn’t believe that he was this effortlessly sexy. Still couldn’t believe that she had fought this for as long as she had.

“Good morning.” She smiled as he pressed a lazy smile against the crook of her neck where he had buried his face. “It’s still early, you can keep sleeping.”

“Or, I could do this instead.” He already sounds more awake, lips trailing from her neck to her jaw and then he’s kissing her as he shifts and she feels all of him pressing against her. He’s hard against her thigh and she whimpers slightly against his lips.

“I never thought I’d meet someone with a higher sex drive than me.” She teases and he hums in between kisses that are getting more heated as his hands start to move down her body.

They fuck lazily, enjoying each other until he’s coming deep inside of her as she grinds on top off him.

Later she finds herself watching him again. He’s making her breakfast, wearing nothing but dark green boxers that hang low on his hips and she’s almost taken back by how delicious he looks. She once again finds herself looking at his arms, how the strong muscle is hidden under soft skin, watches the veins as he sits beside her, how the coffee cup looks tiny in his large hand.

“What?” He asks, catching her not so subtle gawking with a teasing smirk.

“Can’t I enjoy the view?” Her words make him blush, and it’s another thing she loved about him. He had no idea just how gorgeous he was.

“What do you want to do today?” He changes the subject and she shrugs as her hand lands on his forearm.

“I don’t know, we could stay at home? Relax for once?” She traces a finger through the fine hair covering his arm, eyes fastened on it.

“Or, you could meet Jack?”

That made her look at him so fast he almost laughs.

“Already?” They had talked about it, but she had figured that it would be months before Aaron was ready for that. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“No.” It’s his turn to shrug. “I mean unless you’re planning on ditching me anytime soon?” He winks at her as her mouth opens and closes repeatedly. “I’m only kidding.” He stamps a kiss to her lips. “If you’re not ready to meet him, then that’s okay, it is soon. I just want him to meet my girlfriend.”

“That’s the first time you’ve said that.” She smiles, big and toothy and he chuckles.

“That you’re my girlfriend?” When she nods he moves to gently hold her neck, pulling her forward. “Of course you’re my girlfriend, Emily.”

She smiles into a kiss and when they break apart there’s not a doubt in her mind. She wants the man in front of her, she wants him forever.

“Call Haley and ask if it’s okay.”

That same night she’s coming into the kitchen just as Aaron takes the chicken out of the oven, hair still wet from her shower, body wrapped in a bathrobe. She was tired, but it wasn’t tired in the way you were in you slept too little or were too stressed, no she was tired in the way you were when you had spent hours with a three-year-old. It was the kind of tired she didn’t mind, because Jack was worth it.

“So let me be the first to say, Jack adores you.” Aaron says as she stretches, her hands high above her head.

“I adore him too. He’s such a great kid.” She goes to hug him from behind and presses a kiss to his shoulder. “But am I a horrible person if I say that I’m happy that it’s just us tonight?”

“No, you’re not.” He’s smiling when he turns around to face her. “Did you have something in mind though?” When her eyebrow raised and she gives him a look, his hands grip her a little tighter. “What about dinner?”

“I’m not hungry, at least not for food.” She removes her bathrobe and reveals the lace underwear set she’s wearing.

“Emily.” Her name is a breathy gasp and when she falls to her knees in front of him, Aaron moves to lean against the counter.

She holds his gaze as she gets his jeans off then presses a kiss against his bulge over his underwear. When she feels him jerking against her lips she smirks.

“Take off your shirt.” She says and he immediately complies. “You’re so fucking sexy.” She looks over his body while pulling down his boxers. “And all mine.” When she takes him in her mouth his knees buckle for a second.

“Fuck baby.” He husks out, fingers easily finding their way to her still damp hair. She moans softly around him, the feeling of his fingers gently tugging and gripping making her shiver as she slowly works her way down his shaft.

He’s getting harder with every second, each swipe of her tongue and every suck making him delirious with want. Then she looks back up at him, eyes hazy in that familiar way, pupils blown wide.

“So good.” He whispers and her cheeks tint pink at the praise. “I swear you were made for me, every fucking hole.” His fingers tighten in her hair and she whimper around him. Her thighs clench as she starts to bop her head faster.

She takes him as deep as she can, ignores how she chokes and how her eyes turn glassy as she works his cock over. When his hips start to jerk against her face, she wraps a fist around him and starts to pump. She pulls off him only to suck in a couple of breaths and then she takes him back in her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the tip of him as her hand twists his base and Aaron groans above her.

“I want you to come in my mouth.” She pants and his jaw clenches as he swallows hard. “I want it all.” Spit hangs from her bottom lip and he wipes it with his thumb before sucking that same thumb between his lips.

“Make me come, then.” He smirks and she has him in her mouth only a few moments later. She pushes forward, keeps going until her nose presses against his pelvis and Aaron groans. Her throat contracts around him, her eyes are glassy as she looks up at him, and then she pulls back, only to do the same thing again and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind.

He tugs her hair again and then he fists it hard, making her gasp around the tip of him. She knows what he wants, so she sits back on her heels and opens her mouth wide. When he starts to thrust against her face, she can’t resist and moves a hand between her legs. She’s soaked, the fabric of her underwear damp and she moans quietly around his cock as he keeps pushing his hips against her.

“Don’t come.” He grits out, almost overwhelmed by the pleasure of her mouth and the visual of her on her knees touching herself. “You’re going to wait until I’m ready to fuck you.”

Emily nods, even as her fingers are circling her clit faster. She can tell that he’s getting close, hips stuttering, filthy words fall from his mouth and she’s pretty sure she’s dripping onto the floor by now. Her eyes move over him, from his face, to his chest, to his arms. She can see the muscle in his forearm tense as he grips her hair tighter. She knows how strong his arms are, how easily he pins her down or throws her around and she whines at the thought.

“Gonna come.” His hushed words bring her eyes back to his face. “You ready for it?”

She nods frantically, stops touching herself and instead focuses everything on pleasing him. He tenses just as he grunts and then the salty taste of him lands on her waiting tongue. His hips jerk as she sucks on his tip, her hand coming up to jerk the rest of him, drawing out the pleasure until he’s backing away, still panting.

“Jesus Christ Em.” He leans against the counter, hands gripping it to keep steady before he helps her up to stand. He pulls her into a kiss, pushes his tongue against hers and groans at the taste of him that still lingers. His hand moves into her underwear and when he feels the slick of her he can’t help to hum. “My my, such a messy girl.”

“Aaron.” She whimpers, her hands digging into the muscle of his upper arms. “Need you.”

“Then why would you make me come in that pretty mouth of yours?” He teases as he turns them around until he can bend her over the counter. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you sweetheart.”

He makes her come three times before he’s even inside of her, by the time they land in a messy tangle of limbs Emily’s exhausted and sated. She falls asleep with her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

The next morning Aaron wakes up to an empty bed and for a second he feels panicked, but then he hears Emily humming to herself in the bathroom and his eyes move to the note that’s on her pillow.Don’t think the notes stop just cause I’m your girlfriend now. Em

#hotchniss #hotchniss smut #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut

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nerdieforpedro · 3 months

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Beginners Guide to your Fanfic Tag game

I was tagged by @wannab-urs and @magpiepills

I didn't forget, I just had to write it down and save it in drafts because sometimes Tumblr will let me do stuff and other times not. 👀

Anyway, you pick however many of your fics you think readers should read first to get to know your work or what you would recommend to them. I think the two lovelies above picked five each so I'll do the same. 🫡 I put in bold themes that can be found in each fic, but do check the warnings. You picks as many as you like. 😄

Drops of Sugar - This ongoing series started with a two part fic that I wrote with Joel Miller (no outbreak - he deserves to be happy especially in my delusions) and Layla (OFC). It morphed into vignettes that I started writing about different points in their relationship. It's easy, breezy and beautiful. Domestic fluff and some smut.

Pleasure Principle - This was my first series (still ongoing) Dave York and Kiara were drawn to each other, have a lot of sex and are trying to figure out feelings. This series in particular had readers point out things that I didn't realize I included. 👀 Like not only a B&E but also that she was not mad at it. Which should indicate how twisted these two are. Also a domestic Dave, but manipulative with groceries and laundry? Smut, angst and feelings.

The Long Road to Together - My longest one shot (16k people like hydrate and have a bathroom break) to date. It features Tommy Miller (no outbreak) and Velora (OFC). My take on a friends to lovers trope that had a few twists because they're both messy. They need Joel and Sarah to be the voices of reason. Joel also has his own sub-plot, becuase Tess. Smut, fluff and angst.

Sard'ika Sessions - My neat six sexy sessions the reader has with Din Djarin, The Mandalorian. Is there smut in every session? Yes. Did I make it gradually increase? Sure and added some non-canon Mandalorian lore that I'm sure is true (in my delusions) which would be in chapter four. There are feelings because sometimes I stick feelings in between the sweaty bits. One thing in this series I did focus on was communication between Din and the reader given how their relationship starts and progresses. I was really happy when people commented and picked up on that aspect. Also a lot of beskar and hands. I in particular enjoyed writing the final session for the cameos I wove in, the blindfold, Din being a complete menace (Maker Yes!! 🙌) and a phrase I didn't realize I stuck in there, "not giving two wookies about what they said or did." 🤣 SMUT, feelings, dash of angst, fluff. (in that order)

Weddings 101 with Dieter - This is neck and neck with Sard'ika Sessions as my favorite. I enjoy all my work (why else would I write it?) But this holds a special place because it's ridiculous, the premise is flimsy and it's just fun. Maya (OFC) needs a lift, Dieter gives her one, there a villa. The goat is a supporting character and has Dieter's back no matter what. Oscar Isaac is slandered and injured (I'm sorry, but I was giggle wheezing while writing his parts it only gets worse) might be an enemy of Dieter's at this point. Oh and there's a wedding? Did we mention that? It's not that important. The weird cloud drum sexy dream I wrote for Dieter is what matters. Priorities people! I envisioned this as the rom-com that I've never seen Pedro in. That's why I wrote it. Not that all this would ever make it into one such movie. 🤓 My attempts at comedy, fluffy as a cloud or a goat, eventual smut, some drug use, future Oscar Isaac mishaps/slander, Dieter's MOUTH AND HANDS. Whatever else I think to put in this thing.

No pressure tags: @musings-of-a-rose @rhoorl @morallyinept @trulybetty @pedroshotwifey @megamindsecretlair @maggiemayhemnj @pamasaur @linzels-blog @avastrasposts @secretelephanttattoo @legendary-pink-dot @i-own-loki @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @gasolinerainbowpuddles @gwendibleywrites @undercoverpena @sin-djarin @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @theywhowriteandknowthings

My bad I tagged so many of you, I wanna know about all your stuff. I'm greedy! 😆

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine I know what you're gonna say, but I'm curious what you think of this list. 👀

#beginners guide to your fanfic #a tag game #you tag me #I'm gonna do it #I'm just gonna be slow #because what is brevity?#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #Joel miller #Tommy miller #Oscar isaac #dieter bravo #din djarin

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morallyinept · 6 months

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HAPPY SUNDAY LOVELIES! 🖤

Howdy y'all! How have you been this week?

My week, despite flying by, has been so busy! But now I have a whole 10 days off of work - wahoo!

Aaannnd, its a certain someone's birthday on the 29th, 😏 so stay tuned for a lil' somethin' somethin' to celebrate. 🎈

Okay Jack, you ready to crack that whip, cowboy? Yee-haw! 🤠

Catch up on last week here, sugar

☆ Things I've posted this week

Chapter 4 of Five Days - I am so thankful for everyone's comments, re-blogs and general feedback on this story. It warms my heart to know you're all excited for each chapter as it drops.

H I M - A Marcus Pike one shot. My submission into the Pike Puddle and I gotta say, I have a few more delicious ideas brewing around in the ol' noggin for this handsome Agent. 🥰

My Protector - A Joel Miller GIFLET

Sent a hug from Frankie, Marucs Pike & Javi G to @avastrasposts on the first day of her new job. Hope it well, lovely! I am sure you smashed it!🖤

This week's Self Care With Dieter & Jett focused on identifying the signs of oncoming depression. Poor Dieter was sick from the rollercoasters.... and I spoke about everyone being welcome at Jett's place too this week.

Tuesday saw the first release of a new weekly feature called Jett's Writer Wow, where I'll feature a writer each week in the fandom who I think you'll fall in love with. Debuting on the first feature was the lovely El, otherwise known as @secretelephanttattoo and you can check that post out here with links to my favourite works of hers, and her full masterlist. Go give her a follow and show her some love. She is absolutely amazing and so creative. 🖤

☆ Things I'm currently working on

So much! Just know that there's a whole bunch of GIFLETS, one shots and further chapters of Five Days being queued up.

I also have another series I've been working on in the background ready for when Five Days wraps up (although, we've a while to go yet). It features a different Pedro Boy...

☆ Things I've read this week

I've updated my Pedro Character Fic Rec List this week with so many new stories that I can't wait to sink my teeth into now that I've got some vacation time.

Admittedly my reading dropped off this week due to a busy work week. But I'm excited to catch up on all your works.

Shout out to lovely @chronically-ghosted who recommended my fic rec lists this week. Thanks to the anon who recommended my work to sweet @planet-marz1 to read, and also to the awesome @suzdin who wrote this awesome Javi P drabble inspired by the concept of my GIFLETS. And a big thank you to @elvinaa who was inspired to start her own Writer Wow.

I am so humbled and grateful that you've been inspired by me in any way. I love how sharing and loving this community is. People supporting and shouting for one another, and it's just divine. Really feeling the love.

I did squeeze in a couple of amazing fics on my lunch breaks this week:

Joel Is Such A Sap After Sex by @inklore A lovely, smutty drabble that left me wanting more of some sappy, post-coital Joel.

Scar Tissue by @wannab-urs The next instalment of her fantastic Dave York series Starving Season. Honestly, you need to read this - all of it. Stop looking at me and go and read it. You can come back to this weekly whip round after. Go on, shoo.

Very much enjoying reading @for-a-longlongtime's Pena & Rockford WIP and I can't wait to read the finished thing. I just know this is going to be legendary!

☆ What have I been watching/listening to this week?

Finally watched Strange Way Of Life! Oh my gosh, I am totally in love with Silva 😍 (ssh, don't tell Ezra!). What an amazing little film. You can read a full review of my thoughts on it here.

Earworms this week:

Mostly work, it's been a real busy week for me wrapping up things before my vacation (I am now off until the 31st - woo!), so admittedly it's been difficult for me to write and post as much as I've wanted to, but now I have a week off planned with some hiking, some writing and a whole bunch of R&R. 🧘‍♀️

👆🏻This is a great song to workout to, if like me, your workout playlist consists of nothing but headbanging, screechy metalcore... 🤘🏻

I'm a big fan of Depeche Mode, have been since my mom played them on repeat constantly, when growing up. This is probably my fav Depeche Mode song.

☆ What have I been up to this week?

Well, that wraps it up for this week, lovelies. Thanks so much to everyone who sent Asks and DM's. And it's been real fun joining in on Discord with some of you too! 🤘🏻

Until next week, this is Jett & Jack cracking the whip on this week's whip round.

Stay kind & stay creamy 🖤

🖤

#jett's weekly whip round #agent whiskey #agent whiskey kingsman #agent whiskey jack daniels #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #jett's pedro boys #jett's giflets #jett's writing #pedro pascal cowboys #silva strange way of life #marcus pike #Spotify

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trulybetty · 9 months

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Sunday | Week In Review II

Sunday Week in Review II.

How we all doing?? Did we make it through the week? (I wrote this placeholder start on Monday, future B, I hope you made it through unscathed)

Narrator: In fact, she barely made it through the week unscathed. It was a weird limbo state of a week that she couldn’t quite understand was so quick but so fucking long at the same time…

So as a result, I really didn’t read much this week - you should see my tabs that I have open for my TBR list this week and I have a lot of mentions/reblogs I will be responding to the next couple of days.

Anyway, on with the week in review…

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Strings Part III (I feel like I hit publish on this six weeks ago, this is how long this week has felt)

Dipped by foot in the Catfish pond this week also...

Stood Up

Flings

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

Six Sentence Sunday by @gnpwdrnwhiskey I love Sunny & Whiskey any day of the week, but throw in tiny long-eared adorable puppies? *dead*

Delta Landscaping | Chapter 1: Welcome to Torrey Hills by @rhoorl They're here... What an opening chapter! This one introduces us to the Delta boys and where they are post-Colombia and sets up for what I know is going to be a fantastic ride! I also heard that the residents of Mulefall Court (snort) have come to play today...

Working Title by @rhoorl Also started this fic this week by Jess too, only one chapter in but I'm very curious how this is all going to play out. Dieter Bravo and a slow burn? Has my name all over it!

The Layover | Chapter 10by @goodwithcheese I'm ignoring the fact that we're in the home stretch of this story - but it's one that just keeps on giving and this week's update was no different! Also, are you team Jules x Benny or team Jules x Santiago?

Sage by @softlyspector This is part three of the Honeyed series, and I don't know how to sum up in a couple of lines how much this series has touched me. Joel AU where he's a tattoo artist might sound on the surface a little ways out there, but trust me - the characterization stays true and the slow burn here is something else. I've yet to reblog it with my comments as I'm still taking it all in - trust me, there's not been a day this week I've not thought of this series.

First and 10 by @something-tofightfor This was actually a re-read and I was surprised to find I hadn't shared it already. We've had @ladamedusoif with SNL's Mr. Ben, now I introduce you to @something-tofightfor's SNL Wing Pit Daniel. He has lived rent-free in my head since I read it and this one shot, I've lost count of how many times I've gone back to read it.

Things I’m Looking Forward to Starting…

No list this week as I can't keep a lid on my TBR list as it exploded this week with my weird head space - which means a lot hopefully a long list of fanfics read next week! 💕✨

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

@jomiddlemarch’s TLOU x Ted Lasso master list put together by @tessa-quayle When I first read TLOU crossover with Ted Lasso a couple months back I was a little dubious about how the two would work. But I’m telling you - it works. I also adore the relationship between Joel and Grace, so much so that reading their back and forth it’s easy to forget she’s an OC. Everything @jomiddlemarch does with her OC is what I strive to achieve with my own - a flawless submission into an established world.

Dave York Hip Bounce Honestly? Do I really need to explain this one?

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

@gnpwdrnwhiskey informing me that there is A HIPPO EMOJI!!! 🦛 <— look at it!

Finding out You can “rewind” gifs (I refer you back to the Dave York hip bounce post)

Justified (TV Show) - even though I'm not entirely sure what is going on at any given time (I watch while I work), I'm now on season two and Raylan is still shooting an alarming amount of people and I'm shocked by the lack of presence of internal affairs. Also, resisting the urge to talk with a Southern accent, much like the week I spent singing everything I spoke in a cockney accent after watching Sweeny Todd…

This Week’s Song…

This song has eaten up and spat me out since I heard it a couple weeks ago. I’ve not gone a day without playing it on repeat and each time my little brain is blown like it’s the first time.

Hope everyone has a great Sunday and here's to a better week!

Feel free to share your weeks in review, detailed or not, and tag me in it if you do! 💕 xx

Other week in reviews I think you should check out...

@rhoorl's week in review

#betty's sunday in review #still haven't thought of a better name #so this is it #Spotify

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wannab-urs · 10 months

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The Spreadsheet Digest - Fic Recs | Vol. 8

Hi darlings! This week's digest is a little small because I took the time to catch up on a bunch of WIPs I've been reading (and they've all already been rec'd). That being said there are some bangers on here if I do say so myself. Oh also I'm at Pride this weekend, that's why this is like 5 hours later than usual.

The spreadsheet is here! It's up to 217 fics now!

cute lil joel pic to kick us off ;)

Feelings on Fire - a Joel series by @joelscruff

This one is for my religious trauma girlies lmao. I personally relate a little bit to how this Reader was raised (southern baptist instead of catholic) with the grades and the extracurriculars and stuff, but I was nowhere near as sheltered. I say all that to say that while I usually have trouble immersing myself into a fic where the reader is this level of innocent, I did not have that issue at all. And GOD do I want to immerse myself in this fic.

Landlord from Hell - a (dark) Frankie one shot by @absurdthirst

If you like You, this one is for you. I loved it but I also was hollering at Reader the whole time to run the fuck away. I was so fucking uncomfortable the whole time, but also the smut was fucking excellent lmao. Incredible horror/thriller fic AGH

more - an Ezra one shot by @ezrasbirdie

This did very unexpected things to me. I'm a pretty firm no on not one, but two of the kinks in this fic but... I'll do anything for Ezra I guess lmao. Read the warnings friends, this one is a (beautiful) doozy

What he deserves - a Dave York one shot by @absurdthirst

Dave is so.... daddy. This is one of those completely indulgent fantasy fics for me. Live in nanny fucks the super hot dad and the kids are also a dream and the ex wife is evil so there's no guilt... perfect!

Sold to Joel Miller - a Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs

Totally serious and not a joke fic at all, what?

In My Hometown - a Joel series by @swiftispunk

Oh boy. I got pining, smut, AND angst all in one fic? Hell yes. And it's like... believable angst, which isn't always the case. I felt so fucking bad for Joel, I just wanted to wrap him up in my arms and hold him forever. I love a man who is just absolutely pathetically in love. Just completely pitiful. Down bad. There's so many good things about this, I'm doing it a disservice with this explanation. Just read it.

Thought That I Was Dreaming - a Dieter one shot by @haylzcyon

Ohhh this Dieter made me unreasonably happy. He's such a cutie... and so fucking sexy. Oh how I dream about getting high with Dee and spending a whole weekend fucking each other silly.

-------Pre-Digest Fic Recs-------

adding more of these than usual since I didn't read much new stuff this week :)

Seams - a Joel series by @fuckyeahdindjarin

I'm Starvin' Darlin - a Joel series by @me-and-your-husband

All Work, No Play - a Javi P one shot by @loquaciousferret

I Think of You - a Din series by @prolix-yuy

No Drug Like Me - a Dieter series by jazzelsaur (ao3)

Tied - a Din series by @radiowallet

Friendly Fire - Joel series by @the-ginger-hedge-witch

Designated Person - a Frankie series by @whatsnewalycat

Not from around here - an Oberyn series by @mishasminion360

-------- My Fics --------

I wrote one (1) tiny little drabble, but hey better than nothing!

Bruise - a Dieter drabble set in my A Ghost of You universe (deadbeat druggie artist boyfriend with severe mental health issues + reader is his entire universe. She has a savior complex. It's a lot. Read that here). Dieter and Reader get unreasonably high and decide to paint each other. Written in a style I've never shown anyone before, sorry if it's weird lol

------------

Happy Reading!

#The Spreadsheet Digest #vol 8 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 1 month

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hi bby ✨ I’m hoping to spread a little love around today (it is someone’s birthday after all — so you might see others answering this)!

I am a big fan of people enjoying cake and celebrating, and sometimes cake can be just tooting your own horn 💁‍♀️ so with that in mind, I’d love to know what THREE pieces of work you’re super proud of that you’d recommend others reading, and why 🍰

hiiiii 💞

that is such a nice thing to do 🥹

What work am I super proud of.... A very good question. According to my AO3 account I posted over 200 fics in the last 5 years so there's a lot to choose from... okay....

First up is Prey, it's my Din soulmate AU with a twist, and people should read it first, because I worked at this fic for months, it robbed my last nerve (no seriously, thinking about writing the second part still gives me anxiety lol) and plotted and tried to get out of my comfort zone with this.

second is a shitty day which I wrote after a.. shitty day and I just wanted to be comforted by a sexy man who would just hold me (don't judge me lol). Also it's one of my sadly few Matt Murdock fics

and third.... I'm gonna go with You, staring one Dave York who has a secret second family. I have been more or less constantly thinking about this Drabble ever since I posted it (and I just noticed that it isn't even in my masterlist) and I can not wait to get into writing a full length One shot for this this year.

#asks #I love asks like this

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ghostfanwriter · 4 months

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I wish you wouldn't put carol in the mix with ur dave series because i loved the sneaking around phase with dave 😢 But I did love this new chapter it's still your story so maybe i'll just skip the rest Love your works babe!!

I got this ask a while ago, when I posted the most recent part of my Dave York x tutor!Reader story, and it got me thinking...

I also love their dynamics and I also kinda don't want Carol anymore. Sooooo I kinda wrote a piece of smut with Joel, reader and Tess...?

And that lead me to write a Joel, reader and Dave...?

They're both unfinished, but if you guys are interested in it I'd love to finish them and post them for you 🩷

Also, I've been playing around with the idea of stepdad!Joel...? Even in the story with Dave, and I wanna know what y'all think about that, please don't ignore me, I'll cry if you do 🤧

Also I might post a mini one shot of Dave, reader and Carol in case someone wants to read that, just talk to me, friends, I wanna talk to you 🩷

#joel miller x reader #ghostfanwriter #ghostfanmail

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readingsrantsrambles · 2 years

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Applauding the Sadness and Subtle Coherence of Michael Mann’s Heat

by Bilge Ebiri

New York Magazine - December 21, 2015

I first saw Michael Mann’s Heat 20 years ago this month. It was opening night, and I had to sit off to the side of the very first row because we hadn’t arrived early enough and the theater — the Village VII, back when it was considered a fancy, state-of-the-art cinema — was packed. This was one of the most anticipated films of 1995, with a perfect storm of elements working in its favor. Mann had shown his action-movie chops and his flair for romance with Last of the Mohicans three years earlier. We ’80s kids knew him, of course, as the Miami Vice guy. Film buffs who’d been paying attention recognized him as the man who made Manhunter and Thief — brilliant thrillers that did poor business but accrued cult followings. There was also the small matter of Heat being the first time Robert De Niro and Al Pacino would share a screen together. Plus, the movie clocked in at nearly three hours. A major American auteur was clearly swinging for the fences. Attention had to be paid.

As soon as the end credits rolled, it was clear that Heat was a special film, filled with unforgettable sequences: the opening armored-car heist; the infamous coffee-shop face-off between master thief Neil McCauley (De Niro) and LAPD lieutenant Vincent Hanna (Pacino); the climactic bank robbery that ends in a hail of bullets; the ethereal finale, set to Moby’s “God Moving Over the Face of the Water.” And, of course, there were the hallmarks of Mann’s style: moody shots of characters standing against oceans of city lights and twilit skies; an authentic, immersive sense of place; the absorbing, well-researched dialogue.

And yet. And yet. And yet. There were elements in Heat that didn’t seem to fit, that stretched the movie in uncomfortable directions: a subplot about Donald Breedan (Dennis Haysbert), an ex-con trying to get straight; a weird, dropped segue suggesting that Waingro (Kevin Gage), a disgraced member of Neil’s crew, might actually be a serial killer; Justine Hanna’s (Diane Venora) many speeches to Vincent about their failing marriage; a seemingly random story thread involving Justine’s young daughter Lauren’s (a 14-year-old Natalie Portman) anxiety attacks. One suspected at times that Mann was trying to weld onto an otherwise-solid crime thriller the expansiveness of a Dickens novel, and that his ambitions had gotten the better of him. I loved Heat the first time I saw it, but there was also a lot of Heat I didn’t quite know what to do with.

That may be one reason why the film, while acclaimed and a decent box-office hit, was more admired than adored. In his mostly positive review in the New YorkTimes, Vincent Canby wrote, “[A]s Heat progresses, its sensational looks pale beside storytelling weaknesses that expose the more soulless aspects of this cat-and-mouse crime tale … [It] is fundamentally hollow and its characters haven’t much to say.” Owen Gleiberman of Entertainment Weekly wrote, “Heat is an ‘epic’ that feels like a stunt … like a grid for a crime thriller that was never filled in.” In another mostly positive review, Dave Kehr of the New York Daily Newscomplained that “the film fills its nearly three hour running time with domestic drama,” and declared, “the sudsiness of the plot ultimately aligns poorly with the film noir framework.”

No surprise, most of these criticisms have faded over the years, as Heat’s supposed problems have revealed themselves to be virtues. This isn’t just a cops-and-robbers story or a standard neo-noir. It’s a movie about men and women, about loneliness and alienation. By pushing at the edges of the genre, by going beyond the thrills and exploring — maybe even indulging in — the emotional lives of his characters, Mann presents a distinct vision of the world, one where connections between people happen on an intuitive level even before they happen on a narrative one. His filmography has always explored such cosmic bonds, from William Peterson’s FBI man and Tom Noonan’s serial killer in Manhunter, to Colin Farrell’s undercover vice cop and Gong Li’s narco financier in Miami Vice. In a profile I wrote about the director earlier this year, I joked that “Unquantifiable Connections could be the alternate title of every Michael Mann movie.” Heat is still his fullest, broadest depiction of that vision to date. It’s a sea of unquantifiable connections.

One way to gauge how much those aforementioned seemingly inorganic elements add to Heat is to look at the film’s earlier iteration, Mann’s own 1989 TV-movie L.A. Takedown. A tight but not-very-good crime flick originally intended as a feature-length pilot for a series, L.A. Takedown is the basic cat-and-mouse drama of Heat distilled to its essence. Mann had written the script in the 1970s, basing it on real-life incidents related to him by veterans of the Chicago police force, and had then trimmed it for TV. But devoid of the later film’s diffuse approach to narrative and its expansive look at the characters’ lives, L.A. Takedown is soulless and uninvolving. (To be fair, it also doesn’t have De Niro and Pacino: Anyone who studies acting should watch the coffee-shop scenes from L.A. Takedown and Heat side by side; the dialogue is practically verbatim, but the way it comes alive with those two actors beautifully demonstrates the intangibles that great performers bring to their parts.)

Heat - Diner Scene (Video)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rIYXfztyxA

Heat’s title is a reference to Neil’s oft-repeated line, learned on a prison yard: “Don’t let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.” This is also the organizing principle of the movie. Neil keeps his life mostly empty and devoid of any distractions, and Mann’s visual style echoes this dialectic between attachment and alienation. The director favors long lenses whose narrow depth of field makes his subjects pop out from the background. So when Mann shows Neil and Eady (Amy Brenneman) standing on a terrace at night, looking over an illuminated city, we sense that the lonesome career-criminal character has let this woman in somehow — that she’s joined him in his invisible cocoon.

Neil starts to find it increasingly hard to disengage from the world over the course of the film, and De Niro’s performance goes from stoic and terse to almost tender and human. Near the end, when he finally has to leave Eady stranded in a car as he flees the cops on foot, there’s a surprised, haunted look on his face. As promised, he’s walking out on his attachments, but it’s too late. Not only is the heat too close, but Neil has fallen in love. He walks, and this time, it hurts.

Pacino’s veteran cop Vincent has the opposite problem. He doesn’t have Neil’s luxury of living in monklike anonymity; he accrues emotional baggage. His wife is frustrated and ready to leave. Her daughter is troubled, even suicidal — thanks in part to the neglect of the adults in her life. But that doesn’t stop Vincent from immersing himself in the underworld, looking for action and meaning. “All I am is what I’m going after,” as he puts it. And if Neil moves closer to Eady over the course of Heat, Vincent moves farther away from Justine.

There’s an almost comic contrast to the way Mann shoots Vincent’s scenes at work and at home. When he’s out investigating, the camera practically stalks him into chop shops, crime scenes, and nightclubs, whereas at home, it’s all cold, hard angles and Antonioni-esque spaces. Pacino’s performance shifts, too. When he’s talking to informants and suspects, he’s a shouting, raving lunatic. (“Cause she’s got A GREAT ASS! And you got your head ALL THE WAY UP IT!”) At home, he’s brooding and bitter, and his delivery slows to a crawl. Mann originally conceived the character of Vincent as a cocaine user, which might account for Pacino’s shouty antics, but we can understand why the drug use was cut; it’s redundant. We already understand that Vincent looks for stimulation on the street to keep himself sharp.

Oddly enough, the character most attached to his personal life is Neil’s partner in crime Chris (Val Kilmer), who has a family to support and is still very much in love with his wife, Charlene (Ashley Judd). (“For me, the sun rises and sets with her,” he tells a skeptical Neil.) Perhaps even more ironically, it’s Charlene who saves Chris at the end, by warning him away from the ambush waiting for him. The moment when she does so — one of the most Michael Mann things Michael Mann has ever done — perfectly encapsulates the director’s idiosyncratic style. Charlene stands on a balcony, looking down at Chris, her new flat filled with cops lying in wait to take him down. All she has to do is identify Chris for them. Instead, she gives her husband a little smile and makes a small hand gesture, waving him away. Chris’s face sinks, and Mann cuts to one of the most stomach-churning music cues in all of cinema, a grinding, almost industrial lament that is at once lyrical and terrifying.

Heat - Chris' Escape (Video)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLWGbrnf36g

The perversity of this moment cannot be understated. Here’s a three-hour crime thriller filled with shoot-outs and bodies dropping left and right, starring Robert De Niro and Al Pacino, and its emotional climax might be a close-up of Ashley Judd’s hand gently waving at Val Kilmer. This, too, represents Neil’s dictum about attachments. With this gesture, Charlene essentially saves Chris’s life and also casts him out of hers. To her, both the cops and Chris are the heat; she’s the one effectively walking away. If you’ve been watching Heat solely as a standard-issue cop thriller, this moment will make little sense. If you’ve been watching it as a tale of men and women, and of the way they break into and out of each other’s lives, this moment will ruin you.

When one sees Heat that way, as a film about relationships, other elements suddenly click into place. Neil’s getaway driver, Trejo (Danny Trejo), betrays the crew because some goons Neil crossed earlier had taken his wife hostage: “I can’t feel nothing. My Anna’s gone, she’s gone,” he wails, after Neil finds him lying in a pool of his own blood, his wife dead in another room. Even Waingro’s abandoned serial-killer story line gains a twisted sense of purpose: Paranoid and psychotic, he can only engage with the world through violence. The other men in the film destroy the people they’re with spiritually, whereas Waingro destroys them literally.

But over the years, the moment in Heat that has come to stand out the most for me is an exchange I initially overlooked completely, in one of those subplots that once seemed trivial. It involves ex-con Donald Breedan trying to make an honest living after his release from prison. He’s taken a job in a diner, working for a corrupt manager who’s got him by the balls. After Donald’s first day at work, his wife, Lily (Kim Staunton), comes by to pick him up, and she meets the boss. She then understands her husband’s pain, and shows a patience that humbles him. She asks him if there’s any way he can bear along with this lousy job until she can find him a better one. Don briefly bucks up. “Ain’t a hard time been invented that I cannot handle,” he says boastfully. But his mood shifts suddenly, and he quietly asks her, “What you hangin’ with me for, Lily?” She replies, “Because I’m proud of you.” To that, he gives a bitter chuckle and asks, almost on the verge of tears, “What the hell are you proud of me for?”

It’s the most haunting moment in this film, in part because it’s the most self-reflective any of these men manage to be over the course of its 170-minute running time — yet that moment is echoed in one way or another all through the film and its tangled network of connections and emotions. Heat may have been billed as a cop thriller, but its timelessness rests on its portrait of broken men, the unfathomable patience of the women who love them, and the human wreckage they all leave behind. Twenty years later, it still breaks your heart.

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writeforfandoms · 3 years

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When Legends Rise

Find my masterlist

Welp. Apparently I’m in the Dave York pit now. This started because of this post and has become a monster. This will be a multi-chapter fic, we will see time skipping. Also, because this is my playground and I say so, Dave’s divorced. And that’s that.

Title is of course a song title. Let me know if y’all want me to link it.

Warnings: Some swearing and discussions of ways to murder people.

Word count: 1.1k

This is Dave York x f!reader. I don’t recall if there are any pronouns in this chapter but that’s how I wrote it in my mind so buyer beware.

Taglist (please let me know if you want on or off): @kesskirata @brandyllyn @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @anaaaispunk @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @seasonschange-butpeopledont @liviiii98 @green-socks

Chapter One: Burning Down, Burning High

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt nervously as you stood in front of the restaurant. It had been… a while since you’d been on a decent date, and you had hopes for this one. You two had gotten along well through the dating app you both were using, which was a good start. But you’d had dates from this app fall flat before. It was exhausting.

Honestly, if this one didn’t turn out different, you were thinking of just giving up dating for a while.

One last deep breath to bolster your courage, and you stepped into the restaurant. A brief word to the host had him guiding you back into the restaurant, past other couples and families. The place was nice, not super upscale, but a little more homey. The clink of flatware and the murmur of voices was only occasionally broken by an excited yell from a child or the babble of a baby. It smelled really good too, which was beginning to wake up your stomach from the strangle hold the nerves had held.

The host deposited you at a table near the back, and you finally got your first in-person look at David. He was definitely handsome, a little older than you, dressed in a light blue button-down and slacks. He stood to greet you with a smile.

“David?” You returned the smile, holding out your hand.

“Glad you could make it.” He took your hand, giving it a quick squeeze, and then surprised you by turning both your hands to press a quick kiss to your knuckles. You felt your cheeks flame. You sat across from him, pulling your feet back under your chair nervously.

“How was work?” you asked. Almost blurted. You were rusty at this dating stuff.

Fortunately David didn’t seem to mind. “Uneventful today. How goes the writing?”

You smiled. He remembered that much at least, that was good. “Still plotting, but I’m going to start writing soon, so that should be fun.”

“What’s it about?” David leaned forward slightly, keeping his gaze on you.

“It’s a murder mystery, actually,” you admitted with a little smile. “My second one.”

“Ah.” His lips twitched into a little smile, although something about his eyes was a little off. There was something cold behind his eyes. Something calculating. “Let me ask you something, then.”

“Hm?” You blinked at him.

“If you were to hypothetically murder someone, how would you do it?”

“Hypothetically?” Your smile widened slowly as you considered his question. “Premeditated or crime of passion?”

“Premeditated.”

“Okay.” You tapped your fingers on the table, mulling over your choices. “Honestly? Hypothetically? Shot of air between the toes. Looks like a heart attack.”

David leaned back in his seat, both eyebrows shooting up. He looked a little surprised actually. “Good choice,” he agreed.

You both paused to place your orders when the waiter came around.

“So is that how the murder happens in your book?” David asked once the waiter was gone.

Your smile turned a little impish. “Nope.”

“Oh?” David’s eyebrows shot up his forehead again, and he leaned forward, clearly interested.

“Foxglove poisoning,” you told him easily.

“That’s not always fatal,” David pointed out.

“Right but it can be if it’s messing with someone’s medications.” You grinned at him outright. He had clearly done some research as well, to know that right off the bat.

David laughed quietly. “Clever,” he agreed. “And how does that work?”

“Can’t give away all my secrets,” you teased. “At least, not on the first date.”

The smile that stretched his lips was amused and almost dangerous, setting butterflies off in your stomach. “Well then, I’ll just have to keep seeing you to find out more,” he murmured.

“Let’s finish dinner first,” you told him with a little laugh. “Tell me more about your job?”

Rather to your surprise, conversation flowed easily between the two of you throughout dinner. He told you more about his job (which sounded like a boring office job with occasional traveling), his ex-wife and their two daughters (who were absolutely adorable), and opinions on beverages. In return, you told him more about writing, talked about your extended family (because there were at least twenty people on one side of the family that kept up with your work and general life), and your own beverage preferences. You paid for your half of the check (after a brief argument) and finally figured you had to go. Sure, it was a Friday night, you had nowhere else to be, but you did have things to do tomorrow.

“This was nice,” you told him as you both stood, a shy smile on your lips. “I had a lot of fun.”

“So did I.” He sounded… almost surprised at that. Almost. Looks like you weren’t the only one hoping the date went well.

“You want to grab coffee sometime?” you offered, watching him closely.

Dave held out his arm to you and you smiled, tucking your hand in the crook of his elbow before the two of you walked out of the restaurant. “Sunday?”

“I’m free. What time works for you?”

“We can meet at 11.”

“Perfect.” You smiled. “Thank you, David.”

“Can I drive you home?” David pulled car keys out of his pocket, looking at you.

And you hesitated. Part of you wanted to say yes, maybe invite him in for one last drink. But it was only the first date, and you weren’t comfortable with him knowing where you lived. “Next time. I’ll get a Lyft home this time.”

David nodded, respecting your choice. “I’ll wait until they get here, then.” He didn’t relinquish your hand, so you managed one-handed to get the Lyft arranged. The quiet was nice, actually. It wasn’t truly quiet, not in the city, but the ambient noises were a bit muffled. There were no screaming sirens, which was always nice.

“Looks like that’s me,” you finally murmured as the Lyft pulled up in front of the restaurant. “Thanks for waiting with me.”

“I’ll see you Sunday.” David released your hand but instead gently turned you, gently gripping your chin with his thumb and two fingers. He leaned down, tipping your head just right, to press a kiss to your lips. Short, almost sweet, and definitely left you wanting more. Your eyes fluttered open to find him smirking at you. “Sunday,” he reminded you as he released you.

“Sunday,” you agreed, swallowing at taking a step back. You turned and walked to your Lyft, settling into the backseat for the drive home.

You had a feeling you were in trouble, and you just hoped it was the good kind of trouble.

(What you didn’t know was that as soon as Dave got back to his apartment he was running a full background on you. He wanted to know everything. Your history. Your family. Your fucking search history. In all his years he’d never met anyone like you, and he wanted more.)

#When Legends Rise #suburban murder daddy #dave york x reader #idk guys #this might be trash

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bostongirl13 · 3 years

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A SINGLE SHOT OF LOVE

Chapter 1

Summary: She is a federal agent and he is the boss of one of the most powerful mafia. Fate wanted their paths to cross, which could cost them both more than they were willing to sacrifice.

Words: 1.5+

Chapter warnings: murder, a description of a dead body

18+ ONLY CONTENT!

A/N: I know that two more people wrote to me to tag them, but I forgot. I'm very sorry....😭😓

New York City was a vast, intricate, labyrinth of noisy, streets and alleys. You could hear the incessant honking of the vehicles even before the sun rose. Impatient businessmen who had to get to the office, mothers who had to leave their children at their schools, facing the puzzling challenge of navigating through the crowd of parents and children; even some of the teachers who had stopped at the local bakery to get a bagel or two before their morning classes. After every person had reached their respective destination, the traffic congestions cleared significantly as if humungous snakes had eaten their fills and were retracting back into their dark and eerie caves. All this made you know that the city is coming to life. And in all this chaos you were. For several hours you've been awake and just entering your office building.

You greeted the security guard at the front desk, handing him a cup of coffee like you did every day when he finished his night shift and you were just starting your day. Dave was a nice man and always ready to help so you didn't mind buying one more drink.

In the elevator you took a deep breath getting ready for a hard day at work. You tweaked the badge on your belt and took your phone out of your pocket to make sure you didn't get any new information on the new case.

As the elevator door opened, you were struck by the smell of carcass, dust and what you called office odor. You couldn't name it, but it was so specific that you wouldn't mistake it for anything else. In addition, it was only noticeable in the offices of the FBI. But not only that was characteristic here. Most of the people, except for undercover agents, wore suits or very formal outfits. You didn't know how to convince yourself of it, and since you started working as an agent, you wore jeans, T-shirts, sweatshirts, sweaters, etc.

After saying hello to a few people along the way, your boss stood on a dais, something like half a floor, waiting for you, still glancing at his watch. Your boss was the kind of agent who'd been born in a suit. He was never a baby or an infant. He was a serious man with a serious gun who rolled off the assembly line in Quantico, Virginia. He was shaved 24/7 and he spoke with a baritone voice and clipped legalistic words. Life had no color for him, no shades of grey either, it was all black/white right/wrong legal/illegal. He was the perfect FBI agent.

"Y/L/N" only greeted you by saying your name, and immediately moved towards the conference room.

When you entered a large room with a large table in the center, where several agents were sitting and with whom you had the opportunity to work, you realized by their expressions that it was not an easy case. So you took your seat at the table and looked at the image projected by the projector.

First it was a case number, then a map, a few photos of the city, a few criminals, and finally photos from the crime scene. Your eyes widened, surveying every smallest element of the projected image. You noticed one of the agents covering her mouth with her hand and running out of the room. It must have been new, or this was the first time she had dealt with this type of thing.

The photos showed a lantern on the docks by the port, with fragments of a woman's body hung on thick butcher's hooks.

"I invited you here because each of you, well, almost everyone worked to some extent on similar things. However, in other cases, we did not know who was the culprit. The situation is different here, because this kind of cruelty is characteristic of only one person. As you can see Vladimir Elistratov is back, which means we have a lot of work to do.”

The term "murderer" was now reserved for psychopaths. There were those that took life and crumpled under the weight of guilt, even if they'd no choice. There were some who killed when necessary and never lost a wink of sleep over it, that's pretty much where you sit. There are others who have made it a whole new hobby, look at them the wrong way and they attacked with lethal force. That last group are the only ones considered murderers now. Vladimir Elistratov belonged to the latter group.

After explaining, assigning tasks, and settling all the details needed for the moment, the agents went their way. You stayed for a while looking at all the photos from the beginning.

"Memories are coming back, aren't they?"

You looked up at your boss.

"You could say that," you laughed nervously. "Elistratov ... It will be a tough business. You know that well, Jack. ”You got up from your chair and put your hands in your jacket pockets.

“I am not saying that it is not. I want to be sure you can do it. Last time…"

“The last time I had less experience and acted in the dark, not knowing what I was doing. Now, well, now I can do more. "

Jack - your boss - said nothing, just nodded, agreeing with what you said.

"Just remember that you can talk to me at any time."

Although everyone thought him to be a cold, typical FBI agent, not expressing emotions, they were wrong. Jack had a heart and soul, and you saw it perfectly well when you dealt with Elistratov for the first time. However, this is not a story for now. What was over and no one will turn back the time. The mistakes were made and you can only pray not to make them again.

Your first task for today was to go to the docks to look around at crime scenes, see if the technicians missed any traces. Not that you didn't trust their abilities, but it must be admitted that each person pays attention to something else. Especially if they work in various positions.

Upon entering the underground garage, you saw a man standing by a black Mustang. He had a paper bag in one hand and a telephone in the other, typing intently, judging by his frown.

"Clint?"

"Y/N" the man immediately put the phone away and came over to greet you. "It's been a long time," he laughed and hugged you.

"What are you doing here?"

"I help. Jack didn't mention it? " You shook your head, "Well, maybe he forgot. He is no longer a teenager. Well. Get in. We're going to the docks. The technicians must have missed something. "

You haven't thought about it now, but your boss hasn't forgotten anything. Never. However, you trusted Clint too much to question his words, so without unnecessary words, you got into the car and drove to the indicated place.

Clint was a rather remote FBI agent. He was only summoned for important matters, and so no one ever knew where he was or what he was doing. A real secret agent after all.

When you arrived at the place, you immediately saw yellow tapes separating a certain area, suggesting that this area is forbidden for unauthorized persons. But now it was no longer necessary. Both of you broke the tape and started to circle the area, each one on a different side, looking for some traces.

“Something's not right for me. Why docks, why not a park? There are more people in the park, and as we know Elistratov loves the audience. "

“I also think it's a bit off his style. It's as if the copycat did it and not himself, ”Clint agreed with you. "Fuck, I have to pick it up, ”he said, looking at the screen of the ringing phone. You let him know it was okay and indicated with your hand that you were walking towards the hangars.

At first glance, everything seemed normal. A huge hangar, riddled with years of etching rust and bullets after numerous shootings. In the past, fishing boats were repaired here. Now it was a large building with a lot of metal. You went over to the other side, seeing that you wouldn't find anything here anyway, but still wanted to be sure that you checked every millimeter of the terrain.

And then you saw him. A tall man dressed in an expensive suit - or so you thought - hair combed back and sunglasses. He was leaning against a car, a black Audi, and talking on the phone. You didn't hear what the conversation was about, though, but judging from his clenched jaw, it wasn't pleasant. You took out your phone and took a few hidden photos and sent them to Clint. You looked again at the man who seemed to be staring right at you….

~ To be continued ~

Tags: @worksby-d @sweetflowersforthebroken @speechlessxx @angrybirdcr @patzammit @ivettt @ozarkthedog @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @a-moment-captured @buckysteveloki-me @denisemarieangelina @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Series tags: @kelbabyblue @a-moment-captured @wayward-blonde @peaches-roses-sins @cynic-spirit @redhairedfeistynerd @stargazingfangirl18

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nerdieforpedro · 7 months

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Weekly update:

I saw “Strange Way of Life” today, loved it 🥰

Going for three fanfic posts this week. I don’t where the words came from, but I’m happy things are ready! Or maybe four we’ll see how the week goes.

Monday will be another chapter of my Dave York fanfic - Pleasure Principal (link to chapter 1). @iamasaddie helped with proofreading. The rough draft was like sandpaper.

A new series with Pero Tovar will begin (you never updated those other series Nerdie - nickname given to me by @legendary-pink-dot ) I need to write to figure out something else down the road for Tovar.

I’m gonna try to do another Frankie Friday, just gotta figure out what it’s gonna be about. 🤔

I also wrote a one shot in the same realm as my Joel Miller - Sugar series. Same OFC. I find it very cute and let me know how Joel’s Southern accent is. I think I did it well, but I could be wrong. That will be up sometime this week too. 🥰 Soft Joel. I love him.

I’m going to keep reading all the fics that pop up in my notifications and ones that don’t honestly. I think I’ll try to make a fanfic recommendation list and add it to my pinned post. ❤️

#fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #awesome #writing #pero tovar #dave york #frankie morales #sugar #strange way of life #pedro pascal

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just-the-hiddles · 3 years

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Writer’s Spotlight | Yespolkakitty

Hello! Today I am featuring my smut sister, partner in crime @yespolkadotkitty. She is multifaceted, very talented and my good friend. She created the embers of my Magnus love. Not to mention multi-fandom! Let’s dive in!

The Basics

Any other names you want people to call you?

Jazzy J / Kitty

How long have you been writing fic?

This will be my sixth year.

What fandoms and/ships do you write?

I started off in Sleepy Hollow (Ichabod/Abbie), then progressed to the Tom Hiddleston fandom. I wrote mostly RPF or for his characters Loki, James Conrad and Magnus Martinsson, then I was in the Cavillry for a bit writing about Walter Marshall and Geralt of Rivia, and for now and I have settled into Pedro Nation where I write about Marcus Pike, Pero Tovar and many other characters of his. Thank you and I'm sorry (?) for everyone who has joined me from one obsession to the next

How did you get started writing fic?

I binged Sleepy Hollow and I wanted to write about Abbie and Ichabod. Although, I've been writing fiction since I was about 11. I had my first story (a Westlife boyband fic) published in a teen magazine at the age of 14 !

Story Recommendations

Which of your stories are your favorite?

Fighting Blind, Say You'll Remember Me, and the Nightingale 'Verse (Dave York x reader, series of one shots)

Which story are you most proud of?

Fighting Blind. It's about 30,000 and I genuinely cried writing parts of it. I still miss those characters.

Which of your stories do you think is the most underrated?

Maybe my Ezra Hummingbird 'verse

Someone is new to reading your stories, which story/stories should they read first?

Um. Goodness me. The less smutty ones? Unless you like smut then HAVE AT IT. I'm just a fangirl inside a semi-functional adult, writing about boys.

Which Story did you do the most research for?

Fighting Blind, easily. I had to research a curator's modern day job as well as research middle-ages China.

Which Story was the easiest to write?

I find the Nightingale 'verse very easy. I also find James Conrad a breeze to write.

The Writing Process

What is your favorite part of writing?

The beginning when I'm all fired up.

What is your least favorite part?

The awkward middle. Or when I'm stuck on plot. Stupid plot!

Describe your style in 1 to 2 sentences.

Shamelessly romantic stories about love. Back when I was signed with a publishing house my editor called my style "clean (as in easy to read) but kinda magical."

Who are some of your writing idols and/or influences?

Nora Roberts, Tessa Dare, Audrey Niffenegger, Tonya Burrows, Toni Anderson, Claire Delacroix

What programs do you use to write and/or edit?

Google docs.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

Both, at different times

Do you write RPF or not?

Yes for some fandoms.

Who is your favorite character to write and why?

Currently, Pero Tovar. I love, love me a grumpy man with a soft heart.

What do you think are your writing strengths?

I'm always full of ideas.

What do you struggle with?

Executing those ideas.

Favorite Trope?

THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

Favorite word to use?

cartography - as in "the cartography of the scars on his back"

What is the best piece of writing advice you have heard?

When finished writing, go back to the top and check if you need the first paragraph. Often you don't, because you wrote that when you were warming up, not yet really writing. - My creative writing tutor and now multi published novelist, Alison McLeod

What would you say to a new fanfic writer starting out?

Read, read, read. You can never read too much about the characters you want to write about.

What is a random bit of research you have not managed to work into a fic yet?

It’s said that prolific writer Isaac Asimov is the only person to have published books which have been represented in nine of the ten major Dewey Classification System categories.

What is your favorite random detail from one of your stories?

I like making up planet names for the Hummingbird 'Verse

Any goals or WIPs you want to share?

One day I really want to be published again.

This or That

fluff AND angst

smut AND fluff

reader insert and OC

one shot or series

canon divergent or AU

Pepsi or Coke

Coffee or Tea

Sweet or Savory

Until next time, toodles!!!

#writer's spotlight #fanfic recommendation #yespolkakitty #tom hiddleston fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #henry cavill #tom hiddleston #henry cavill fanfiction

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bluejones · 3 years

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a valentine’s day surprise

pairing: dave york x reader word court: 1k warnings: I mean, there’s some gun use because obviously.. a/n: me, writing FLUFFY shit for dave?? I could never. my friends will be shocked! but I want to be his wife so you know, here we are. I can’t think of nice things without there being some sort of spicy undertone okay! Also I wrote this pretty quickly at like 6am and I’m just gonna post it without dwelling on it like all my other writing I’ve been holding onto, sooo it’s not edited or anything but that’s okay. please enjoy :)

Inspired by this gif

The sun had just started to rise as you walked down the stairs in your home, yawning and pulling your robe tighter around you. It was like any other day, nothing special about it except for the fact that it was Valentine’s day.

You didn’t celebrate anymore, saved that for the early years together with your husband, who had already left for the day. You both showed how much you loved each other every single day, so celebrating specifically on one day wouldn’t really mean anything.

Besides, being together so long just made it harder and harder to be creative. With commercialised gifts and red and pink cards – it wasn’t exactly your style. It wasn’t your husbands either, thankfully.

Today would turn out to be slightly different though.

When you reached the kitchen, you headed straight for the coffee machine. Surprisingly, your favourite mug had already been left out for you. Under it lay a blank white envelope.

You inspected it, finding that it had been properly sealed. Carefully, you swiped your finger under the seal and pulled the card out. It was also blank, no font or design on the front. It was strange, your husband wasn’t the type to leave mysterious messages. He was straight forward, preferring to tell you things in person, prefer to call than send a text. It was one of the things you liked about him - but this letter couldn’t have come from anyone else.

You flipped the card open and, in the middle, a simple sentence in black ink was scrawled across it.

this Valentine’s day I thought I’d get you a gun

- Dave

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips or stop the smile that spread so far across your face the corners of your eyes crinkled. You thought about it constantly for the rest of the day.

~~~~~

He was nervous when he first told you. You had a sneaking suspicious that he didn’t just work a boring desk job with the CIA. No - he was a trained operative and sometimes freelance assassin. It was certainly a shock but his honesty, and the trust he felt he had with you to share his secret was enough to make you fall for him even more.

Despite his anxiousness over if you really did love him and his morally questionable career, you married him anyway. While it made you worry, you trusted his skill and judgement, knowing he would always come back home to you. If anything, it made him more attractive and you appreciated so much more the times when he was soft and would melt like putty in your hands for you.

He could have become a very different man..

When he arrived home later that day, he was almost giddy with excitement. Such a contrast to his sometimes usual intensity after a long day. He scooped you up into a hug and spun you around, planting kisses over your face. You couldn’t do anything other than laugh and you felt like you couldn’t feel more happy or have your heart feel so full.

Once he set you down, he shoved what you assumed was your gift into your hands. He had even put it in a nice box and the thoughtfulness made your heart ache.

As you opened the lid, you noticed he was shifting between his feet, clearly nervous. It was a compact black 9mm handgun, small, but it would fit perfectly in your hands. A red band went across the grip, a personalised touch you figured. It was practical and anything but fancy – exactly what you wanted. You were beaming. You’d definitely wanted your own for a while and you wondered for a moment how long he had wanted you to have one.

The thought of placing your gun next to all of his in the case in the basement was enough to make your eyes water.

He was ushering you outside, barely giving you enough time to fully process your emotions before you were being positioned in front of a target he’d managed to put up without you noticing.

You were grateful for the large backyard and space from your neighbours – the shots fired would sound dull in the distance. No need for them to worry.

“Do you remember?” he asked standing behind you, placing a hand on your hip. You looked back and rolled your eyes at him. Yes, you remembered how to hold a gun.

Lifting your arms up the way he taught you years ago, you aimed the gun at the target, taking a moment to breathe and concentrate.

“That’s it, honey.” His mouth brushed your ear as he whispered. Both of his hands were at your waist now and you would have shivered if you didn’t want to keep a steady composure – not make it so obvious how much he affected you. Not that it mattered, he would know anyway.

Shifting your stance slightly, you shot 5 rounds at the target. It was smooth, barely any recoil. You missed 2 out of the 5 but that was okay – you’d be able to perfect your shot now that you had your own gun.

Dave hummed in approval and pressed a lingering kiss to your neck.

“Very good.”

His voice was low and almost gravely and this time you did shiver, letting it run down your spine. His breathing picked up and you could feel his chest rise and fall quicker as he pressed his body flush against yours.

“Again?” He questioned and you considered it before sighing. His arms dropped from you as you turned around to face him. You would have liked to if he wasn’t already making you feel so needy.

You pressed your gun against the underside of his chin, tilting it up so he had to look down at you. He gasped and his body jolted at the feel of the cold metal against his skin. His pupils dilatated, staring wide at you. His arms flew straight to your hips and gripped them tightly, pulling you into him.

“You’d better take me to bed Mr. York.” You whispered against his lips and he groaned. His arms wrapped around you and lifted you up, making you lock your legs around his waist.

“Yes, dear.” He smiled playfully, crushing his lips into yours, deepening the kiss as he moved back toward the house.

#um hello #fbi gonna show up to my house real soon about my google searches #i dont really know anything about guns but you get the drift ok #i cant believe -this- is the first thing im publishing?#lol #man is only sweet to me but hates everyone else trope #murder daddy is actually a good sweet boy #but he can switch in an instant if he needs #im having feelings #dave york x reader #dave york x you #my writing #god that tag is cringe lol #dave york #equalizer 2 #pedro

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

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chapter ten: dave, frank, and cliff

Cliff guided her by the hand into the tiny club: once again, it was early enough that they had plenty of time to congregate on the side of the room, alone, and out of earshot of the others. Sam held onto the yellow tulip he had given her with two fingers and she brought the petals to her nose for a whiff of that fresh smell.

“I didn't know if you wanted a bouquet again,” he confessed with a shrug.

“It's okay,” she told him as she held the flower close to her chest. “Sometimes one is good.” She took another whiff from those smooth yellow petals, as smooth as a tapestry of silk.

“Do you wanna dance again later tonight?” she asked him.

“Yes, please,” he replied; he took his hat off and ran his fingers through his smooth dark hair. “We did a square dance last time—let's do a little bit of slow ballroom dancing, too.”

He then wagged his finger at her.

“I have something else to give you,” he said, and he ducked past her to the bar at the far side of the room. She watched him with her hands still up to her chest so she could smell the tulip some more. He strode around Lars, who had taken his seat at the bar with a shot of vodka, and he ducked out of sight for a moment. She could only see part of his back; he rose up and stuck his hand behind his back before he returned to her.

“What'chu got for me?” she asked him once he came within earshot.

“Close your eyes and stick out your arm,” he told her. She did just that with her left arm and she felt something brush against her skin.

“Okay,” he said. She opened her eyes and she spotted a bracelet on her wrist made of braided strips of black leather and silver rings: she took a second look to find small sparkling rhinestones embedded within the braids. It was fastened together with a big round fancy silver button about the size of a nickel.

“This is something I found in the book shop,” he explained, “it was tucked between that copy of Siddhartha we found as well as a copy of Frankenstein. I just thought it was something you'd like.”

“I do!” she declared as she put one arm around him and held him close to her. She rested the side of her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and took in the soft sound of his heartbeat underneath his denim button up shirt. Sam kept the tulip near to her nose still.

Something fell over on the other side of the room and then a bunch of paper fell onto the floor. Sam opened her eyes but she kept her head pressed to his chest.

Dan shuffled through a bunch of paper on the floor: he had already slung his guitar over his shoulder, and he swung it upon his back so he could look for something. Sam lifted her gaze to the other side of the stage, where someone had moved the couch from backstage and put it up against the wall.

Dan picked up some paper and took something off the floor. He stood back up and strode over to the couch: he almost tripped over the cables on the side of the stage but he caught himself, albeit without unplugging anything. Scott skidded into the room right then.

“Hey!” he declared. Dan staggered forward and plopped down on the couch: the whole entire time, he never let go of his guitar. Indeed, once he took his seat on the cushions, he brought it forward and rested it upon his lap. He looked up at Scott as if nothing happened.

“What's all the hubbub, bub?” Scott asked him.

“Couldn't find my tuner,” he quipped as he picked up a little black box from the cushion next to him.

“Sure that's yours and not Alex and Eric's?”

“It's all of ours,” Dan pointed out, “yours, too.”

Sam looked up at Cliff, who gazed down at her: the light over their heads shone down on him so it looked as though a halo surrounded his head.

“Wanna take a walk?” he suggested. “It's going to be a long time before Legacy take to the stage again.”

“Yeah, let's,” she said. He doubled back to the bar to fetch his hat and to tell Lars where they were going. Once Cliff ran his finger across the wide brim of his hat, Sam put her sunglasses back on before they headed back outside. He held the door open for her and she slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder.

He hurried up next to her so they walked side by side on the narrow sidewalk.

The sun hung strong and high over the city in the vast clear blue sky. Up ahead of them, the street bustled with life, and yet they rounded the corner towards where Joey's car was parked. Joey himself had gone in through the back door; the two of them strode at a brisk pace past the puddle of barf in the storm drain. Sam thought about Alex, who had ducked out of there and into the shadows around the club, and she wondered if he was alright somewhere in there.

She turned her attention to the block ahead of them once they had cleared the piece of sidewalk and slowed to a stroll. A patch of green grass and a line of trees stood across the corner up ahead. The very sight of the green was enough for Sam to bring the tulip up to her nose again. She looked down at the bracelet Cliff had given her and a part of her felt as though he was spoiling her. Spoiling her even with what he had.

“Is that who I think it is?” he said out of the blue.

“Who?” she asked him. Cliff pointed up ahead and there was a man seated on the curb in front of the grass. He looked back at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Come along,” he coaxed her. His long legs stretched enough that Sam fell behind him to the end of the sidewalk; however, he awaited her at the corner, and they crossed the little side street together. Once they came closer to him, Sam made out the sight of the helmet of bright orange curls upon his head: they sprawled down over his shoulders and halfway down his back. Despite it being a nice day, he wore a faded black leather jacket over ragged faded denim jeans with large gaping holes in the knees. A pair of ragged gloves hung out of his pocket.

“Dave!” Cliff called out once they reached the corner. The man lifted his head and frowned at first, but then he showed them a smile once they came closer to him. He was a skinny, scrawny man who looked as though he was awaiting a ride somewhere.

“Hey, Cliff,” he replied back to him in a broken voice; Sam picked up the smell of cigarettes on him as well as fried beans. “Wasn't expecting to see you here.”

“I'm seein' Anthrax and Legacy tonight with her,” Cliff explained. “This is my date, Samantha.”

“Or Sam as I go by,” she said as she lifted her sunglasses off of her face for a better look at him.

“Sam, this is my friend Dave Mustaine,” Cliff introduced her. He gazed up at her from the gutter: the sunlight shone about his crown of bright orange.

“You're from California,” he remarked at a fast clip.

“Yeah.” She paused for a few seconds. “How'd you know?”

“You're too friendly,” he said as he brought a hand over his brow to protect his eyes from the sun. “You're also lacking that high New York energy, too.”

“Everything is just a hustle and bustle around here,” she added.

“Right! And you're too laid back, too.” He gestured up at Cliff. “He and I used to be in Metallica together.”

She then gasped.

“Oh, so you're Dave!” she declared.

“The infamous Dave,” he corrected her.

“Well, what're you doin' here?” Cliff asked him.

“I'm homeless now, dude,” Dave replied, even with the nonchalant look on his face. “Been homeless, too, even after Megadeth doing a bit of touring for our first record. Right now, I'm just hanging out here in the Big Apple because of the whole thing with studio time. It's the whole waiting game and everything.”

“Oh, man, I'm really sorry to hear that,” Cliff confessed.

“Yeah, I hope I can get back to L.A to do the new album by the year's end. Even thought I've been sleeping on a girl's old couch, and biding my time, being here in New York has kind of given me a different perspective of everything.”

“That's—kind of why I moved out here,” Sam told him at a deliberate pace.

“Oh, yeah?” Dave showed her a little smile.

“Yeah. I came here because I just wanted to be here as a change of pace. I haven't had as many problems, though.”

“That's smart,” he declared. He then cleared his throat and stood to his feet. Much like Cliff, he towered over her, this long and lanky redheaded man wrapped in rags that barely clung onto his emaciated body.

“You know I only started Megadeth just to spite James and Lars, right?”

“He really did, too,” Cliff filled in for him. “I had nothing to do with it so—if you wanna know more about that.”

“But Cliff and I are still good friends, though,” Dave continued.

“Don't get mad, get even, I guess?” Sam chuckled.

“Yes, YES!” Dave shot out a hand to her for a high five, and she did it with her pinky finger given her hands were full with the tulip and her sunglasses.

“Well, at least you've got a couch to sleep on,” Cliff pointed out.

“Yeah, but I think she might kill me, though,” Dave confessed.

“Why?” Sam chuckled at that.

“I like another girl,” he said, still nonchalant. “I might have to break up with Ellen so I can go with Corinne.”

“Do what you gotta do, that's what I say, man,” Cliff encouraged him.

“I hope she can get me out to California because I wrote a couple of songs already for the new album. I need to be back out West soon here because—you know—”

“It'll save you,” Sam finished for him.

“It'll save me and also my bassist,” he pointed out. “He and I are both struggling right now.” Dave nodded at the flower and the bracelet.

“Did he give you those?” he asked her.

“Yes, he did.”

“I found the bracelet,” Cliff explained, “the tulip I picked on my way over here. Even with our doing better than—we were—I still think less is more.”

“One of you kids have the time right now?” Dave asked them.

“It's around lunchtime,” Sam replied. “That's all we know at the moment.”

“I might poke my head into the show tonight,” he told her with a raise of his eyebrow. “I also ask 'cause I haven't eaten all day, either. I'm also dying of thirst right now.”

“We can go back and get you a drink of water,” Sam suggested.

“As long as James and Lars don't see me,” he told her with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, he's, uh—” Cliff cleared his throat. “—kind of a loaded subject with the two of them especially. At least, that's all I know. That's as far as I know.”

“Cliff only has hearsay,” Dave pointed out.

“Well, let's—get you something, though,” Sam insisted as she put her sunglasses back on, and Dave followed suit with his own. She started back down the sidewalk and even over the noise of the street, she could hear him tell Cliff, “I like this girl.”

She brought the tulip up to her nose once she reached the corner once again. The two young men stood on either side of her for a moment, and she led the way across the pavement, back to L'Amour.

“She came here with Joey,” Cliff told Dave at one point.

“Joey from Anthrax?” he said.

“Yeah. He's another one who's been sleeping on her couch, too, oddly enough.”

“We're just friends, though,” Sam pointed out with a quick turn around to face them. “I promise.”

“I hope you stay just friends,” Dave stifled a laugh.

“I'm not gonna kill him,” she scoffed. “If he finds someone at some point, I'll be happy for him.”

She returned to a straight position and continued on to the corner of the club. Frank and Scott congregated outside of the side door: the sun shone down upon the dark crowns of their heads such that it looked as though they wore little golden crowns.

“Oh, hey, Dave,” Scott greeted him, to which Dave brought a finger to his lips. “Oh, right, James and Lars,” he followed along. “And yeah, they're here right now.”

“Anyway, what brings you here?” Frank asked him as he shielded his eyes from the bright sun.

“I'm just dyin' of thirst right now,” Dave told him.

“Well, what brings you to New York?” Frank clarified.

“I'm staying with a girl until I can get my ass out to California to record a record,” Dave briskly said, the first time he showed any bit of emotion right in front of Sam. “I just want a drink of water for the time being, though.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Frank replied with a nervous nod of his head. He ducked back inside of the club; meanwhile, Scott remained there on the sidewalk with his hands tucked into his jeans pockets.

“Quite the interesting little amalgamation we got here,” Dave remarked.

“Yeah, I'll say,” Scott added as he raised his thick dark eyebrows. “Buncha starving artists here.”

“In Sam's case, quite literally,” Cliff chimed in.

“I like artists,” Dave stated as he stuffed the gloves further into his jacket pocket. “You guys work harder than we do. At least, that's what I think, anyway.”

“Yeah, but you guys make inanimate objects make noises, though,” Sam pointed out.

“You make stuff out of nothing,” he insisted. A gust of wind made its way through the skyscrapers and his bright orange curls billowed over his head and shoulders.

Frank almost stumbled out of the club right then with a small clean glass of water in one hand. He gave it to Dave, who pushed his hair back with his free hand and looked on at him with a blank look on his face.

“Thank you—and don't sweat it, Frank,” he declared. Cliff then turned to Sam, again with a twinkle in his eye.

“Do you want anything?” he offered her.

“Not really, no,” she said as she adjusted the bracelet and shifted her weight right in her spot on the sidewalk. Dave meanwhile, had downed the whole drink of water in four large gulps.

“Want some more?” Frank offered him.

“Please. And I hope I can hang out around here without James and Lars seeing me.”

“We'll sneak you into the shadows if we've gotta,” Scott promised him.

Cliff then gestured for Sam to follow him away from there.

“Where you guys going?” Dave called after them.

“We're gonna take a walk,” Cliff replied. “Won't be long.”

He was quick to walk away from the spot on the sidewalk and he rested a single hand on Sam's shoulder as well. They strode away from the doorway and made their way towards the alleyway up ahead.

“I needed to get you away from there,” Cliff explained to her once they were far out of earshot. “Like I said, it's only hearsay to me. So I don't like how my brothers are fighting with each other.”

“That's—completely understandable,” Sam replied, slightly out of breath. “It's only hearsay with you? Really?”

“Yeah, I had no say in firing Dave,” he told her once they reached the street corner. “I'm still very good friends with him but it feels like I have to walk on eggshells most of the time when it comes to him, though. I can't really talk to anyone about it.”

“Have you tried to?” she asked him as they came to a stop. “The whole thing made me nervous.”

“Yeah, but every time I do, something always intervenes, though.”

“I kinda feel bad for Dave, too,” she confessed. “But he seems a little bit blunt, though.”

“That's just how he is,” Cliff explained. “And I would be, too, if I was thrown out like that and not given another chance to change my ways.”

“Was he really that bad when he got drunk?”

“Oh, yeah. It got fucking crazy at times. He got violent after he kicked back a few bottles. I remember one time he got drunk and he punched a big hole in the wall of the studio. The three of us get giggly and goofy when we've had a few. It was like oil and water. I wanted to give him another chance, and I still do, too, as much as I like Kirk and everything.”

“But you had no say in it, though,” she said.

“None at all. James just told me one morning, 'we made Dave go back home to L.A. and we're getting a new guitarist.'” She thought about Joey and the fact that he let himself drink a supple amount. She hoped that nothing would happen between him and Anthrax.

She peered around the block before them.

“By the way, did you see where Joey went off to?” she asked him.

“I didn't, no,” he confessed. “Why's that?”

“Well, 'cause he threw up when he and I got here,” she answered with a shrug of her shoulders.

“I hope they don't go through what happened to us,” Cliff confessed.

“I hope they don't, either,” she echoed.

“I'll be pissed if they do,” he added.

“I can see Joey and Dave getting together in a single act together,” she suggested. “That is, if it happens and Megadeth lose their hold.”

“They can call it 'Fired',” he laughed, and they crossed the street side by side to the opposite corner. Up ahead stood a stretch of more buildings as well as an entrance to the subway. He then turned his head to her.

“I have an idea,” he told her, and he took her by the hand. They hurried to the staircase in between the wrought iron fence. Unlike the other subway stations, this one smelled as though it had just been cleaned.

They reached the bottom of the staircase and the train stood at the platform.

“You wanna get on the train?” she laughed at him.

“No,” he said, and he guided her to a short corridor off to the right. On the right side of the hallway stood a broom closet.

“Right in here,” he coaxed her with a gesture to the door.

“What's in here?” she asked him.

“I wanna get close to you,” he said as he turned around to face her. “Like—much closer to you. Every kiss to you is one step closer to peeling it back.”

“You,” she sputtered, “wanna do that. In broad daylight.”

“We're not exactly in broad daylight,” he pointed out, “we'll be in a shadow. We'll be in a closet.”

“We're still in broad daylight!” she insisted. “Out in public!”

“Tell you what—I'll only let you touch me,” he said as he opened the closet door: there was barely room for the two of them in there. A metal rack filled up the entire back of the closet and a large yellow bucket and a mop took up an entire corner of the spot.

“I dunno, Cliff,” she admitted with a shrug and a little twirl of the tulip; and she thought about what she had told Joey before with her wishing to draw him.

“I just wanna be closer to you,” he confessed in a near whisper. “I don't wanna be like—weird or anything.”

“Oh, no, it's just—it's not very romantic.”

“We can make it romantic,” he pointed out. He reached for the tulip in her hands and he nestled it on the shelf of the rack, to which she chuckled at that.

“What do you have in your purse?”

“Uh, let's see...” She opened her purse and she spotted that photo of Frank and Charlie as children nestled on the side, right next to her wallet. Next to that was a little packet of spearmint gum.

“Here's something to make it smell better,” she said as she handed him the pack. He took a whiff and nodded.

“Oh, yeah.” He set it on the shelf and then returned to her. She looked past him and spotted a tall box that held an air conditioner in it at one point. He took his seat there and she squeezed in after him.

“Tight fit,” he said as she shut the door behind her: a small crack in between the door and the frame gave her just enough light to see what she was doing.

“Come closer to me,” she whispered.

“Only if you come closer to me,” he begged her. He kept himself seated on the box and she leaned in to him.

“So, do you want it below the belt, or—”

“Yeah, please,” he whispered to her as he opened his legs for her. “Nothin' fancy. But something to start us off with.”

In the dim light, she unfastened the button on his jeans and she reached down the front. The size of it. Even when inside of his jeans, her finger tips caressed over his silken skin. It felt like a big serpent, right inside of his pants.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“Yeah—I guess you could say I'm hung,” he said to her in a near whisper. “It does feel good, I'll say that. Those little fingers on me.”

“How 'bout my thumb?” she asked him as she stroked him with the pad of her thumb. He gasped at the feeling.

“Yes,” his voice broke. “God, Sam—you're a natural. With one hand no less!”

She knelt closer to him: the smell of the mint gum was faint and distant in comparison to the smell of his denim and his soft cologne, but she wanted to do it.

“I think I could do it with two,” she declared as she kept her voice down. In the dim light, she could see his Cheshire cat grin and the twinkle in his eye.

“If we were—in a bigger room,” he grunted, “like—your place.”

“Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't ya?” she teased him.

“I could give you sump'n to return the favor, too,” he retorted. He bowed his head and shuffled his feet at the feeling of her thumb and her two fingers on him. He then gaped at her.

“You okay?” she asked him, and he let out a soft groan.

“That's the spot,” he declared. “That's—the spot—and the best feeling.”

Sam was quick to take her hand out and he giggled at her.

“What?” she asked him with a smile on her face.

“I'm gonna have to change my panties now,” he said, and he couldn't resist the laughter.

“Your big boy panties,” she teased him. She stood to her feet and picked the gum and the tulip from the shelf. She put the gum back into her purse and she reached for Cliff's hand. He stood to his feet and adjusted the brim of his hat. Her breasts brushed against his stomach and he even had to bow his head from the ceiling.

“How do we get outta here?” he asked her as he held onto the brim of his hat with two fingers.

“You go first,” she told him.

“Oh, no, ladies first,” he insisted. She let out a sigh, rolled her eyes, and then giggled at him. She opened the closet door with her free hand and she stumbled out of there; he followed her and he almost dropped his hat on the clean tile floor. He caught it and put it back onto his head as the door swung closed behind him in one fell swoop. He then crossed his legs.

“Tell you what,” he started with a raise of his finger. “I'll run to the men's room and wash up—you go back to L'Amour and wait for me.”

“You sure?” she asked him as she twirled the tulip in her fingers: her hand was dry as a bone even though she made him come in his jeans.

“Positive. Go hang out with the gang and I'll catch up with you.” Cliff leaned into her neck and gave her a little kiss. The bristle over his lip brushed against her skin such that it tickled, and it brought a giggle out of her. He kept his legs together as he passed her and headed over to the men's room. Sam watched him go and then, once he was out of sight, she fetched up a dreamy sigh. But without another moment's hesitation, she surfaced from the subway and made her way back to the club.

Aurora, Zelda, and Marla showed up within the next hour, but she had no idea where Dave had disappeared to; Marla had put on a knit cap over her hair to hide it all away from onlookers. She also noticed that Cliff still hadn't showed up by the time the audience began gathering in front of them. A much bigger crowd that time.

The four girls stood at the back of the room and they watched Alex solo once again on that song “Alone in the Dark”. He stood still and kept the guitar pressed to his little tummy the whole entire time. Marla and Aurora both had stars in their eyes at the sight of him, but even though Sam kept her eye on him, she couldn't stop thinking about Cliff and Dave. Neither of them had arrived at the club still; she couldn't stop thinking about James and Lars, and the fact Scott and Frank felt like a pair of lynchpins. So much had happened without her looking, and there was so much that she still needed to know.

Meanwhile, Zetro did more straight up singing rather than that usual high shriek that caught everyone's attention. Legacy were tight and powerful on that second night, and Sam had hope for them. When Anthrax showed to the stage, she recalled what Charlie had said about Legacy and that there was another band called that. She wondered how that would work out as Joey stood in the middle of the stage with his head bowed over the head of the microphone.

His voice was more broken and he had a difficult time catching his breath. Indeed, they cut their set short by two songs because he couldn't hardly keep up with the other four guys behind him. Such a big crowd in front of them and yet he couldn't do it; everyone filed out of there as disappointed as Sam expected them to be.

“He didn't look too good,” she overheard Zelda say to Marla, who shook her head.

“I'm gonna go see if he's okay,” Sam told them as she adjusted the strap of her purse and tucked Cliff's tulip into her purse for safe keeping. “I did ride with him down here after all.”

“Okay—I will, too,” Marla said as she tugged down on her cap, and Sam strode across the floor to the backstage area.

“You wanna get something to eat?” Aurora offered Zelda as they fell out of earshot. Sam stepped over the cables on the floor and she leaned into the backstage area. No one there, and in fact the back door shut as soon as she knew what was happening there. She doubled back to the side doors and made her way to the street.

If nothing, she could take the subway back up to the Bronx, but it was getting late, and she knew she wouldn't return home until well into the night. The very thought of it exhausted her. She turned her head and she recognized Frank's car at the corner: he had rolled down the windows to take in the warm nigth air.

“Frankie!” she shouted as she sprinted down the sidewalk. In the darkness, she saw his silhouette turn in her direction. “Frankie!” He hesitated there to await her.

“Hey!” he called out to her. He leaned over the passenger seat: the orange glow of the street light washed over his handsome face.

“Do you know where Joey went?” she asked him, out of breath.

“Charlie and Marla just took him home,” he replied. “Poor guy had such a bad night.”

“Was he okay?”

“You know, he barfed this morning when you guys got here and then he knocked back another few drinks.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” she groaned and she bowed her head. She lifted her gaze and stared on at Frank in the dim light. “Well—I don't really feel like taking the subway, though.” She adjusted the strap of her purse yet again.

“That's right, you and him rode together here,” he recalled.

“Did they take his car?”

“Yeah, they did.”

“It's getting late, too. You could do it but it kinda sucks, though—it's been a long day, too. Yeah, hop on in. Besides, you and I live in the same building.”

Sam slid into the passenger seat next to him, and she placed her purse on the floor next to her ankle. They made their way up the street and caught the light green.

“It wasn't just Joey who had a bad night, though,” he started. “I don't know what was going on with the amps tonight.”

“You guys sounded good, though,” she pointed out. “Legacy sounded extra strong tonight.”

“Zetro's last night, you know. He told me he wanted to sing tonight, too, which was real cool, if you ask me! But I felt so naked up there. Myself, Scott, and also Danny, plus Eric, Alex, and Greg. Charlie couldn't hardly get the mic on his snare to work. Louie just went 'fuck it' and took it off, but it seemed to work for him, though. We all struggled tonight.”

They fell silent for a long time, that is until they reached the freeway entrance.

“So Cliff kissed you,” he muttered over the roar of the tires on the pavement. Sam gaped at him.

“Wait a minute, how'd you find that out?” she demanded.

“The last time I saw him, he had this twinkle in his eye and he smelled like fresh coffee,” he explained. “So I asked him about it.”

Sam shook her head. And she had been keeping it a secret this whole entire time!

She squinted her eyes and gaped at him. Frank looked back at her with a concerned look on his face.

“What's wrong?” he asked her.

“He told me to keep it a secret,” she explained. “I—I don't even know what to say right now.”

“Wow, what the fuck,” he muttered as he returned his attention to the parkway in front of them. “You should bring it up to him once you get home.”

“Yeah, I'll talk to him tonight,” she vowed to him.

“You should,” Frank replied, “Cliff is my friend but he needs to know that he went behind your back like that. I wouldn't really be okay with that if it were me. Heck, I'm not okay with it not being me. I'll give you the number to Jon and Marsha's house, too. They're staying with them.”

Within thirty minutes, they returned home to their building. Frank bode her good night with a hug and then she made her way back upstairs to her room. She set her purse down on the couch and she took out the tulip. Cliff never showed again and the secret was out. She didn't want to get mad at him, but she couldn't help it.

She darted into the kitchen and set the tulip down on the counter so she could dial the Zazulas' number. It was almost midnight and thus, as she brought the phone to her ear, she wondered if she would wake them.

“Hello?” She recognized his voice.

“Hi, Cliff,” she said in a flat tone.

“Oh, hi.” He hesitated.

“You told Frankie you kissed me?” she blurted out. Silence on his end.

“Uh—”

“Why'd you do that, Cliff?” she demanded and she folded a single arm across her chest.

“Because,” he started.

“Because why?” She could feel her face growing hot from frustration.

“Because I needed to tell someone,” he said. “I needed to tell someone close to me. I was gonna lose it otherwise if I didn't tell someone about it.”

“But you told me to keep it under the wraps, though!” she pointed out.

“Well, yeah.” He never raised his voice. “But I didn't know how I was gonna react to it, though. Believe me, Sam, if I would've, I could've. Both my hands on my brother's ashes.” Sam fumed as she kept the phone up to her ear. He also left her hanging in the club as well. The second night in a row, and he failed to be her date to the shows.

“I'm also sorry for not showing up, either,” he added when she didn't reply to him. “Dave needed a ride back to where he was staying and I needed to change my underwear, too. We had to make some calls and I finally got back to the Zazulas' house for a change, and at that point, the shows had already started...” As he spoke, she eased the expression on her face. Even though she kept her arm crossed over her chest, there was no way she could stay mad at him for this.

“I'm just... I'm sorry, Sam,” he pleaded. “I'm sorry for everything. You can break up with me and tell me to go fuck myself, I'd understand.”

She swallowed, and she kept her gaze fixated on the tulip on the counter next to her. There was also that bouquet on the coffee table in the next room. Those soft smooth bright yellow petals that beckoned a smile out of her.

“No, no,” she told him in a low voice. “It's okay. Things just—happened.”

“That's just all there is to it,” he replied in a near whisper. “Things just happen, and sometimes you need to tell people about it. Otherwise you get what's going on between James, Lars, and Dave at the moment.”

“You were really cute when we got to the closet, too,” she said, and she couldn't resist the smile on her face. “Dolling that little space up.”

“Well, you wanted it to be romantic,” he pointed out with a little chuckle to his voice.

“True. But it was just—it was cute to me.” She snickered at the thought.

“When do Stormtroopers go on tour?”

“About a month. It's only gonna be a handful of dates, but Frankie told me it'll be my first taste of the road life. And it's money for me and Marla especially.”

“Take all your clothes,” he suggested. “All of them. You never know what the place will be like. Also, be prepared to not sleep, either.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” she vowed, and she yawned.

“It's late,” he stated.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Enjoy your sleep while you can, too. Just every minute of it. So—don't stay up another minute later. Also, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

There was silence on his end.

“I love you,” he whispered, and she never moved. Her chest ached a bit: it took her a minute to realize she had been holding her breath that whole time.

“You there?” he asked her.

“Yeah.”

“You alright?” “Yeah.”

He snickered at her.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back at him as she picked up the tulip from the counter. She brought those yellow petals up to her nose: still smelled fresh.

“You have a good night,” he told her in a soft voice.

“Kiss the Zazulas good night for me,” she said, and that brought a laugh out of him, and they hung up at the same time.

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