justthinkingoutloud13
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
It ought to be a proverb — surviving the first five months in Night Vale doesn't guarantee that you're going to survive the next five months. Or the next five minutes.
Not if your name's Carlos, your precognitive dreams have started repeating themselves, you've somehow sent a secret message to yourself, and you're pretty sure someone is actively using your new home for a very bloody experiment in how to cause mass panic... and especially not if the only way to stop it is to agree to work secretly with the altogether-too-distracting Cecil Palmer.
Temporary. It's only going to be temporary.
Just keep telling yourself that.
Series
- Part 4 of Partially Stars
-
Tags
Summary
Carlos doesn't even have a definition of a "normal" day anymore, but even having left behind all of his old standards, he has to admit this day is particularly bizarre.
Not only is there a new threat to deal with in town, but he's made an enemy among the Sheriff's Secret Police, received notice that management is visiting for an unscheduled inspection, gotten a brand new car from... somewhere... and spoken to a being that he believed only hours ago couldn't possibly exist.
Not to mention his paranormal abilities are starting to spill over from his dreams into his waking hours. It's only a matter of time before someone notices.
So why not run with it?
Series
- Part 3 of Partially Stars
Bookmarked by justthinkingoutloud13
12 Mar 2023
-
Tags
Summary
Two weeks in Night Vale — even after the battle with the living trash in the bins outside the lab, encounters with creepy hooded figures, and other daily manifestations of the paranormal — are still nowhere near enough to adequately prepare Carlos for the sudden realization that it's up to him to save the entire town.
And the dreams are getting worse.
Series
- Part 2 of Partially Stars
Bookmarked by justthinkingoutloud13
12 Mar 2023
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
John Peters, already made profoundly uneasy by Carlos’s plan, is further dismayed by the news that the Glow Cloud has engulfed the whole of Night Vale. Having managed to get back to his feet, he promptly sits down again, face still pale. “Shit.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I was bitten by a snake once, under the house... I was just a kid, maybe five or six. Never been able to stand the things. I guess I panicked. It’s passing off,” holding up a warding hand as Carlos moves to help him up. “Just give me a minute. I think maybe it’ll be better if you go back, and I call Cecil from here.”
Bluntly, “Why?”
“Because...” John Peters blinks. His eyes are very blue. The Glow Cloud’s light is a luminous pearl color right now, almost enough to give a realistic cast to the shadows around them. “Damn it, I’m already starting to forget you’re not from here. You don’t know Cecil. Look, he’s — /observant/. If I called him while standing next to a fucking five-headed snake-necked abomination, he’d /notice/. Do you listen to his show?”
“Yes,” Carlos admits, grinding the syllable down softly, as if confessing to a secret vice. “I... listen to his show.”
“Don’t you ever wonder how he’s able to give details about things he never physically sees? He doesn’t just make things up. He tells the /truth/.”
“You’re telling me he’s psychic?”
John Peters looks exasperated. “No, no, he doesn’t waste people’s time with crystals and incense and all that fancy paraphernalia. He just /knows/ things. He’s... Cecil.”
“Would he,” with an unexpected edge in his voice again, “would he really betray us by reporting it?”
“/Betray/ us?” The farmer’s expression of surprise is almost comical. “No, of course he wouldn’t! But we don’t have time to /explain/ it to him, and besides, if he found out what you’re about to do, he’d leave the studio to try and stop you. And you won’t repeat this, Carlos, but his contract’s coming up for renegotiation in a few weeks, and he’s already on Management’s shitlist. He’s been my friend for years. Damned if I’ll let him get himself into something ugly like breach of contract. That show’s his life. Sometimes I think he doesn’t take the risks seriously.”
Now it’s Carlos’s turn to drop his eyes, put up a hand as if he can ward away his own sudden, scalding embarrassment. How could he just have assumed like that? “No, of course... I understand...”
“I hope you do,” says John Peters. He hesitates, then adds roughly, “He... he thinks the world of you. It’s not what I was raised to... Well. It’s not my /business/. What he thinks. What you think. But it isn’t just me who cares about him. Cecil is important to a lot of us, here in town.” He pulls down the brim of his hat in that characteristic gesture. Stands up, still shaky, but with his face set in its usual stoic lines again. “So just — don’t get yourself killed, Carlos the Crazy Scientist. Don’t get yourself killed.”
-
Tags
Summary
Tony hates the snow. (NCIS/The Shining crossover)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,283
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 1
- Kudos:
- 86
- Bookmarks:
- 17
- Hits:
- 1,196
Bookmarked by justthinkingoutloud13
05 Jul 2020
Bookmarker's Notes
/Sometimes, he falls asleep at his desk and dreams of being lost in a maze of snow, the cold biting at feet and hands and face, chest burning as the frozen air is sucked into his heaving lungs, always running, running, from a dark force he can never see./
There's a pair of dead Navy lieutenants back in the morgue, both female, both with dark hair and brown eyes, and when Tony looks at their pictures he sees another woman with dark hair and dark eyes and big teeth, with circles under her eyes that never went away no matter how many martinis she had or how many expensive necklaces Anthony DiNozzo bought her.
-
out of the bathtub and into the bed by doitpoeticallyenough
Fandoms: Knives Out (2019), Glass Onion (2022), Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery (2022)
29 Dec 2022
Tags
Summary
Tea: Lemongrass Tea, good for your heart.
After the third day in the bathtub, Phillip has had enough of Blanc’s tantrum. Time to get the man out of the bathtub and get some food into him. Hijinks and banter ensue.
Series
- Part 3 of the tea breaks
Bookmarked by justthinkingoutloud13
22 Jan 2023
Bookmarker's Notes
“I can help you”, Phillip said, rolling his eyes. The pandemic had rendered Blanc’s job difficult to do, and Phillip hadn’t been any luckier. At least he didn’t spend all his time sulking in closed spaces.
He did his sulking in the living room like a regular person.
“The answer is still no! I told you not to bother me 41 hours ago and here you are again, knocking on my door!”
“Benoit!” Phillip scolded, “I am your husband, and my job is to take care of you!”
“Actually, /why/ are you here? Shouldn’t you be off doing your actual job?”
“It’s the bloody pandemic, Benoit!”
A sigh of recollection came from the inside.
“Do please make an attempt to call me Blanc. I detest my first name, like I recall telling you decades ago”, Blanc’s voice then murmured from the other side of the door.
“I’m sorry, dear”, Phillip sighed, “I’m just worried about you.”
“It has not been that long”, Blanc countered, “I have only read The Picture of Dorian Gray twice, and I am yet to analyze it from a scientologist’s point of view.”
“Sure, love, but can’t you do that in the living room?”
“You won’t let me smoke there!”
Phillip took a deep breath. They had a balcony, for God’s sake, why couldn’t the man smoke there?
“Blanc, please, let me at least come there. It’s been days since I last saw your face.”
Blanc was silent for a moment. Phillip pinched the bridge of his nose and mentally prepared to try again tomorrow.
“The door’s not locked.”
Phillip cursed.
“I thought you wouldn’t try it, and I didn’t want to get out of the bath to let you in if I wanted you to come here so I just left it-.” his voiced trailed away as Phillip opened the door and walked to the bathtub. There lay multiple books in stacks near the tub and a laptop was dumped on the plush carpet. Blanc himself lay sprawled out in the tub and rested his head on the edge. He was simultaneously the hottest and the most pathetic man Phillip had ever seen.
“The hat is a bit of an overkill”, he said, smiling a bit, lowering himself to his knees next to the tub.
“Really?” Blanc said and took it off his head to examine it. He then threw it onto the carpet to join the laptop.
“Really.”
“I thought it was quite… dashing.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Fine!” Blanc said and threw his hands up in surrender, simultaneously flinging water at Phillip, whose shirt took most of the damage.
“Thanks, love.”
“No problem”, Blanc said, smiling faintly.
“Can we go now?” Phillip asked. He was getting tired of the whole ordeal.
“Do I have to?” Blanc asked, his voice now quiet and calm. Phillip had almost forgotten that that was where the whole thing stemmed from; Blanc was afraid of staying still, losing his edge. He wanted to think all the time, to keep his brain sharp and ready for use. To a certain degree, Phillip understood it. Blanc dealt with life-or-death situations all the time in his line of work, and Phillip knew that his husband deeply cared about the people he helped. He wanted to succeed, and to succeed he needed to bring his a-game.
“Yes. We must get some food into you, and you need to leave this tub before you become one with it. I don’t want to have to explain to any authorities that I am married to a tub.”
“I have hardly begun the integration process”, his husband smiled. Phillip quirked his lips.