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justheretoreadfanfictions12 · 5 months

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The Love You Want - Part 6

Sleep Token Fanfiction - Hiding

I wake up from blinding sunlight, my head hurts, my throat feels dry, I'm hungover as hell. I close my eyes again listening to the calm breathing besides me. Wait, who is laying next to me? I turn my head. There he lays, covered in my sheets, only wearing his boxers, Jax is sleeping peacefully like he has no worries in life. I spend quite a few minutes just looking at him. Admiring his beauty. Watching his chest move slowly. I feel so close to him but yet so far away. I try to get up without waking him, he still slummers like a baby. I take a shower & get ready for the day, trying to cover up the dark circles around my eyes. I fail at it. I look like I haven't slept all night. Have I slept? I suddenly remember it all. Singing karaoke. Jax making love to me on a bench. Heading back to the club acting like nothing happened. Partying for hours. Getting back to the hotel. Jax heading to his room but knocking on my door 5 minutes later. Showering together. Him holding me in his arms, stroking my hair, kissing my forehead. Just as I get out of the shower to get dressed I hear another knock on my door. "Give me 2 minutes I'm getting dressed" I shout. I quickly grab a pair of black jeans & can't find any shirt, so I ick up Jax's button up shirt & throw it on. Stupid me. I open the door, Dan grins at me. "Seems like you have been up for quite some time yesterday night. I heard "voices" from your room & you are wearing a man's shirt" he says. Shit, his room is next to mine, how could we have been so careless? I blush. He says: "Is the dude still here? I won't tell Ryle, I promise. He might get a little jealous. But more importantly - have you heard from Jax? He normally never sleeps in, he has terrible insomnia & hardly sleeps for like 5 hours every night. He isn't answering his door". Shit. I need to make up a few excuses. I grab my key & leave the room. Jax is still asleep, I feel like nothing could wake him up at this point. Dan said he has insomnia & can't sleep properly but there he is, slumbering, completely unbothered by anything happening around him.

I turn to Dan after closing the door. "We will never talk about this ever again, you hear me? You never heard a man in my room. I never wore a man's shirt. This didn't happen. Please." I beg. He smirks, visibly amused by my embarrassment. He looks me up & down, suddenly his eyes widen. "This shirt, I have seen it before. Iris, who is the man in your room?" he asks. I feel my stomach turn, no, I won't let this happen. "I have no idea what you are talking about, it's a black shirt & the man in my room is a stranger I met at the hotel bar when I went down to grab a snack cause I was hungry when we came home." I say, praying that we will buy it. He looks at me, then starts laughing. "For a second I thought you were sleeping with Jax. That would be insane, it's pretty much impossible." he says. "Why is that impossible?" I ask, immediately regretting my question, I need to shift the conversation away from Jax, not talk about him even more. He shakes his head. "Man, Jax is a special type of human, he just doesn't seem to be interested in women. Not that he's gay or something like that. He just really doesn't care about dating or sex. I have watched countless women try. He was genuinely uninterested in them all." he responds. I feel something in my jump. I made the unapproachable man not only sleep with me but stay in my bed afterwards. Then I quickly snap back to reality. "Oh wow, that sounds boring!" I say. "I haven't seen Jax since yesterday evening when we all came back to the hotel. Maybe he's out for a walk or something. The tour seems to be stressing him quite a lot." I say, hoping it sounds realistic & unbothered. "This man will be the death of me one day, he drives me crazy." Dan says. Same, he will be my death too, he drives me even crazies than Dan could ever imagine. "I need to get back into my room & make this man disappear now." I say. Dan laughs again. "Was he this bad? Really?" he asks. Oh, if he would only know how good Jax was. If he would only know what his touch feels like. "Yeah." I say & grab my keys. "Good luck finding Jax, I'm sure he will be back soon." I say & unlock my door. Back in my room I sigh, banging my head against a wall, hoping it would bring my stupid mind back to reality, not getting myself stuck in situations like this ever again. I hear a soft chuckle, then Jax says in his even deeper morning voice: "Good morning my love, I have no idea what you are doing but you look cute wearing my shirt". I look at him angrily. "Dan was just here questioning what I was doing last night, almost recognized your shirt on me & asking me where you are cause he can't find you." I say. Jax laughs even more. I haven't seen him laugh this much in the span of a few minutes ever before. "I guess you lied your way out of that situation & saved our asses from getting caught, right?" he asks. I nod. "It was HARD. Very hard. I'm not even fully awake yet & now we need to get you ut of here without anyone noticing," I say. He gives me a sing to get into bed with him. I sit down next to him, he grabs my hand & says: "I haven't slept this deeply in a while now. I guess whenever I can't sleep I'll have to visit you in your room". I can't believe this man who normally is the most serious person on earth is joking about this. "Leo, this was close. Dave almost realized you were the man in my room. We need to be more careful." I say. He just shrugs his shoulders. "You're right, I know, I just loved every second of last night & I want to do this over & over again." he says. We somehow manage to get him out of my room & into his room to get ready for breakfast.

At the breakfast table Dan smirks at me every time our eyes meet, he's such a child sometimes. When Ryle gets up to grab more coffee, Dan quickly says: "Iris had a man in her room last night, I heard them. Don't tell Ryle though". What an idiot. Alex looks at me surprised, then bursts out a loud laugh. Jax just smiles, he looks satisfied. "Well, I hope he gave you a good time." Jax says. I blush. I can't even look at him. Alex keeps pushing me too. "Tell us more!! How was he?" he asks. I sigh, rolling my eyes at Dan for exposing me. "He was great, truly great. Good guy. Very handsome. Knows how to use his package properly. And he's biiig, like really big. Huge would be a better description. He tastes really good as well." I say. Jax chokes on his coffee. I quickly glance at him & can't believe what I'm seeing. He is blushing. His face turns red. Alex starts laughing like crazy. Dan just nods & says: "Great, I'm happy for you. At least one of us had an exciting night". If he only knew..

We spend the day getting to the concert hall, checking everything out, setting up the stage & doing sound checks. The boys play a few songs. After there are done we all head backstage where Ryle pulls me aside. "Iris, I need to talk to you real quick." he says. Oh shit, I almost forgot that not only one band member wants to fuck me, but two. I smile at him. "What's up?" I ask. He looks nervous. Then he asks: "I just wanted to invite you for a nice dinner, just you & me. Maybe tonight?". I'm not prepared for this. I look for Jax's eyes, when mine meet them I give him a sign to help me. He quickly walks towards us. "Iris, I need you for a second. Work stuff." he says. "Of course." I answer, relieved that he is saving me. I quickly say to Ryle: "Let's talk about this later!" & follow Jax. "He wants to take me out. For a date. A real date. What should I do?" I ask Jax. He looks at me with a totally new expression on his face. It's a mix of anger, jealousy & worry. "I can't bare the thought of anyone else touching you. You belong to me. I belong to you. Your touch is holy. You cure me. I cannot watch another man try to receive the same as you give me". he says calmly. His words are so angry, yet his voice is so soft. I throw my body against his, kissing him passionately. As soon as his lips are on mine, there is no holding back. Jax quickly locks the door of the small office we are in. He picks me up & carries me to the desk. He pulls up the dress I have thrown on before we left the hotel, pushing my panties aside, but he doesn't touch me, he starts kissing my neck, my chest, then he dips his head between my thighs, planting soft kisses on my inner thighs, biting my skin, then finally giving me what I long for. He starts softly licking his tongue over my most sensitive spot. He nibbles, sucks, bites, making me lose every ounce of control over my body. He whispers: "You taste so good, I want to stay between your legs forever. But you need to be quiet for me. Shut that pretty little mouth". I nod, trying to not make a sound. It's hard to not scream his name, so I whisper it. "Jax, you are killing me, this feels so good!". Just as I'm close to cumming he stops. The next second his body is pressed on top of mine, he breathes heavily, filling me out completely. He moves slowly, very slowly. His hands are around my waist, pulling me closer to him. His lips are on mine. He pulls them away, which feels like he has taken my biggest treasure away from me. Then he looks into my eyes while still fucking me slowly & says: "I was made for you. I was born to be by your side. I was crafted to be buried deep inside of you. You finally gave me the piece that was missing form my purpose." then he crashes his lips back onto mine. Tears roll down my cheeks as he makes me cum. The mix of his beautiful words & passionate thrusts is something I have never experienced before. He presses his forehead against mine as he finishes seconds after me. We don't dare to move, never wanting this moment to pass, when we hear a bang on the door.

"Why the hell is this door locked, what are you guys doing?" Dan shouts. Shit, not Dan again. He's already suspicious from what happened this morning, now Jax & me are locked in a room together. Jax sighs, visibly annoyed by the interruption. He pulls himself away from me, leaving me feel empty. Quickly pulling his pants up, giving me a quick kiss on my lips & whispering "Fix your hair real quick, you look like you just got laid". Then he opens the door. I sit on the chair in front of the desk, the room is a mess, stuff that had been on the table are spread across the room, pens rolling around, papers on the floor, this situation isn't good. Dan comes in, looks Jax up & down, then he says: "I don't know what you guys are doing but please be careful. Don't get distracted, Jax. We need you. By the way there's lipstick all over your chest & neck, don't try to trick me. You were the guy in Iris' room last night, am I right? Are you stupid enough to risk what we all have for sex? Really, Jax? Nothing against you, Iris, but this man is incapable of loving, he said it himself. He never experienced love. You guys could go around fucking literally everyone, why choose your work colleagues?" Suddenly Jax clenches his fists. I have never seen this look on his face. Pure anger. He steps towards Dan, grabbing him by his shirt, pulling him closer to his face. "Don't you dare say I could just fuck anyone. You know I can't. You know I'm risking my reputation, my music, my whole life by doing this. I never felt the need to get close to a woman before I laid my eyes on her. She brought me back to life. The first time I heard her voice, I questioned everything I ever thought about love. The first time I touched her, I spent the night praying for forgiveness, but I couldn't stop. I tried, Dan, you know I did. You know I have sold my body & mind to my music. To our brotherhood. You guys know how much you mean to me, you are my life. But she is what I was made for apart from music, she makes the blood in my veins feel warm again. I was literally frozen until she warmed me up." he says. Tears falling from his eyes. His body shakes as Dan pulls him in for a hug. They just stand there hugging each other for minutes, not saying a single word. Then Jax steps back, wiping his face, planting a kiss on Dan's forehead. "I love you my brother" he says. Dan wipes his face too, both are crying. "I love you too, more than anything." he says. Then he looks at me, simply nodding & saying: "His love is my love, Iris. Welcome to the family." then he turns around, wanting to leave. He looks back at Jax & says: "I never saw anything, my mouth is shut until you choose to speak for yourself." then he walks away.

#sleep token fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #sleep token #vessel sleep token #vessel

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manwalksintobar · 2 years

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New York // Alex Dimitrov

New York is the best city to cry in.

I’ve cried on the corner of Spring and Greene smoking one cigarette after another, taking two-hour lunch breaks in 2006 at my first internship at Interview magazine.

I cried in Washington Square Park the other night thinking about healthcare and how I quit my job to write poetry, and how even a job in poetry prevents you from writing it.

I’ve cried so many times in front of the fountain at Lincoln Center, then watched the cars drive by on Columbus without reason to cry and I’ve cried even more then.

The one year I lived on St. Marks Place I was in grad school and cried at Cafe Orlin with one drink for a million hours until I’d write a poem and immediately send it to the New Yorker feeling entirely justified because why wouldn’t they want it. It was terrible. All of it. But I miss those days most.

The 6 train is my favorite train to cry on.

It’s always late and full of other people’s fathers. No one really looks at you because they’re so glad they’re not you, and of course because they know that being anyone is a tragedy like the MTA itself.

There’s something productive about crying in New York. It’s almost like crying alone in your apartment but you can cruise strangers and run errands at the same time.

Once I was so exhausted I started crying in the middle of a drink with my friend Rachel at the Beagle (which is closed now) but I was telling her how people always ask poets to do things for free as if we don’t have to pay rent or attend to our loneliness.

Please pay poets, people. Please pay poets more than anyone else.

I’ve also cried when I was happy in a cab on the FDR listening to Patti Smith the day my first book got taken. And again that night when my parents asked how much money I’d make and what I would do next, you know, after this poetry thing.

It turns out that next there’s more crying. In so many gay bars I’m going to list them: Boiler Room, Eastern Bloc, Nowhere, Metropolitan and I could go on but this poem isn’t about gay crying, just crying in general.

That reminds me how I used to cry in Ray’s Pizza (also on St. Marks Place) and how one time a guy asked if I had cocaine and if we could “go somewhere more chill” to do it.

I was so confused I pretended to stop crying and said, “No. Can’t you fucking see that I’m crying.”

Then I went to Cooper Union across the street and continued crying there but less convincingly.

Believe it or not, I’ve never cried in a man’s apartment. A man I was sleeping with or about to. They’ve all thought I was too detached and should cry more. They’ve all been emotionally bankrupt, to say the least. Especially the lawyers.

Clearly none of them could picture me crying in front of the Bowery Hotel when I lost my wallet, the same day I had three poems rejected and went on an awful date, the kind that makes you wonder if you should stop talking to people and just max out your credit card at Opening Ceremony.

I’ve also cried in the Sunshine on Houston (all of its theaters and the lobby) and each time I remember how someone once told me it was a bathhouse, which is delightful and makes me feel incredibly safe.

(The Sunshine is also closed now by the way, like Opening Ceremony. And that’s what happens in New York when you finally find a good spot to cry in. It’s more or less gone in a flash.)

Of course there’ve been times when I wanted to cry and couldn’t. Moving. Waiting for test results. Finding out someone I used to date is now married (to a dancer with a nice face and no talent; good luck with that, babe!).

I don’t think I should count the times I’ve cried at home. Who could anyway? I’ve only had three apartments: St. Marks Place, Houston and Allen, and 75th and 1st Avenue.

I got that last one being lucky one night on the A train, when I ran into a guy who was on the same call sheet for a photo shoot we once did for Out magazine.

He told me he had a friend who had a friend who wanted to pass the apartment down to a gay friend because the rent was good and in a nice area.

I’m that gay friend, I said! That’s me.

And I still live there—still gay— the last time I cried being two hours ago.

Sometimes I cry walking down Prince Street pretending I have allergies. It’s my favorite street in the city and my favorite street in the world.

Especially the red brick surrounding the church where on many weekends in summer vendors set up their stands and sell mostly odd things.

A woman almost sold me a crucifix there in 2010 but I couldn’t afford it so we talked about past lives and Stevie Nicks, and how Tusk is most certainly better than Rumours.

By the end of our talk she just gave it to me. She was a painter and had great energy and I’m sorry, I know this is not LA but that word just does something for me.

It might be like counting the wars America’s been in if I had to tell you all the restaurants I’ve cried in. Most of them are in the East Village but I do love throwing a tantrum on the west side where people are slightly more scandalized because they’re maybe a million dollars richer. I have no idea. I have $574 in my bank account right now.

I’ve also cried in front of delivery people and I never feel bad because there’s so many reasons to cry here I know that they get it.

Besides, I tip 30% (sometimes 35 if I’m feeling emotional), and I’d like to take the time now to remind people to tip well. It says everything about you, especially on a date.

Naturally, when I see someone crying in New York it’s like an invitation. Like I should get to work and join them, like we’re about to do something important together.

I do feel lucky I live here since growing up I wasn’t allowed to cry, and if I have kids I’ll definitely tell them how useful it is and how it costs only nothing.

You’re free to cry all the time! Please cry, everybody! Please use your freedom!

Until one day you realize you’re not free at all. You never were to begin with. You’re just another person crying on 10th Street.

Again.

#poetry #Alex Dimitrov #crying #New York #Washington Square #men #queer poetry #Fleetwood Mac #gay bars #East Village #despair #Copper Canyon Press #lithub #funny

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aoitrinity · 3 years

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Why Do I Have to Feel Like a Fucking Conspiracy Theorist -- OR -- How I Find a Semblance of Peace on Sunday Night

I’m also going to start this out with a GIANT DISCLAIMER.

I am about to theorize about what may have happened to the SPN finale. I have absolutely no insider knowledge. I am merely speculating here based on the panels and a bunch of Twitter and Tumblr posts that I have been reading over the last few days. If you are not in a good place to read such things, TURN BACK PLEASE. Go take care of yourself and your mental health. You and your feelings are valid and deserve to be handled gently right now.

Additionally, if you are here to give me shit for being unhappy with the ending, please walk away as well. I am here to reach out and share my feelings with people who might be struggling to make sense of something that upset some of us in very deep-seated ways. I am not here to bother you or critique you or tell you that you’re lesser because you liked the ending. If you felt it was good, then go enjoy it.

Long-ass post beneath the cut, everyone.

Alrighty folks...I debated whether or not to do this because I have been spiraling down the hell that is the SPN finale since Thursday. The travesty of what happened to our show--to this beloved show that seemed to have been so perfectly and precisely written for at least four years that it had basically already paved its own tarmac on which to land its plane and we all thought we knew exactly what we were going to get. And then we didn’t. We had a nigh Cas-less and entirely Eileen-less ending. We had no goodbye between Cas and Jack. We had Dean dying young after finally finding his freedom, only to ascend to heaven with no one but Bobby. We had the weird, weird, weird incest-y death scene. We had the bridge crane shot thing because...sure. You do you, Robert Singer.

It was so terrible, so truly awful, and I couldn’t seem to square any of it with anything we had known going in. I tossed and turned and cried and didn’t eat or sleep all weekend. I spent hours just reloading tumblr and twitter, going to the Misha panel, reading and reading and listening and trying to figure out what the fucking hell is going on because I needed to know exactly where to direct my anger. And after a fuckton of talking with @winchester-reload, I think we have at least a very plausible theory about what happened here--I’m laying it out below as much for my own peace of mind as anything else, because otherwise all of these thoughts are going to continue to spin around in my head for weeks and I won’t be able to do jack shit.

Now to start off, unfortunately I do think Dean was slated to die from the beginning of this season. I don’t know WHY they thought that was the best way to go, and I wish they had listened to Jensen on this one. Part of me wonders if it was an order from on high based on the discussion between Becky and Chuck earlier this season--the writers knew it wasn’t a great choice, but they were trying to signal to us that we should feel free to write our own endings to the story because they’d be better (I can wax poetic on the signs of why many of the writers probably wanted Dean to live, but that’s another post). I’m not defending that choice by any means, just laying it out there that I think they didn’t necessarily all want to kill Dean like they did.

However, what I THINK I can explain now is what happened with Misha and why we got so jerked around with Cas’s story. Consider what we know (I can’t immediately source all of it, but I did my best):

At the end of episode 15x19, Lucifer has been returned to the Empty after being killed AGAIN. He talks with Cas. Maybe harasses him a bit about Dean, idk. But then...Jack shows up. New God Jack. And he picks up Cas and pulls him out of the Empty, leaving Lucifer behind, because seriously. Fuck that guy (also leaving behind his abusive father is character growth for Jack, so yay for that).

-Misha was contracted to film 15 episodes this season. He was only in 14.

-Misha told Michael Sheen he had to go back to film 1.5 episodes after the shutdown in March. (Starts at 6:13)

-Misha was in Vancouver during filming of the finale.

-Mark P said at Darklight Con that the last scene he filmed was with Alex and Misha (and Mark P was only in episode 19).

-Misha implied that he was present for various filming moments, including Dean’s death (start at 35:15), and said that it felt like a “mini-reunion.”

-Various sources have mentioned that Jimmy Novak was supposed to be in the finale.

-After episode 18, Stands tweeted a fan who was angered and hurt by Cas's death that they could talk about the “bury the gays” issue after the finale aired.

-In episode 19 we know there were takes of the parking lot scene where the only thing fans observing could hear was Dean yelling “CAS” at Chuck (fuck I can’t find this one right now, but it’s definitely out there)

-Also in episode 19, we had a very strange, awkward montage at the end of the episode.

-In episode 20, we know there were a FUCKTON of missing scenes

-We also had no opening montage, but three other separate montages.

-Carry on My Wayward Son was played TWICE, back-to-back at the end of the episode.

-Episode 20 was shorter than normal and had surprisingly little dialogue. The pacing was VERY strange.

-The cast and crew has been almost completely silent about the finale since it came out. When they have spoken, it has been with an awkward excuse of “Uh...COVID?”

-Samantha Ferris has specifically noted that, despite the Harvelle’s being back in play and a big heaven reunion having been planned pre-COVID, neither she nor Chad Lindberg received any such invitation to return.

-Cas and Dean POP Funko figures were pictured together in a replica of Harvelle’s in 15x04.

NOW with all of this in mind (and I’m probably missing some stuff too because there is so much--feel free to add on to that list), please bear with me because here is what I think we were SUPPOSED to get POST-COVID (after it was determined that the reunion couldn’t happen because of the virus):

In episode 20, we start with our NORMAL OPENING MONTAGE, like always. It traces everything that happened during the season. We are reminded of Cas. The confession. Rowena. Eileen. Jack. Billie, God, the Empty, all of it.

Things then follow along in the episode where they did up until Dean dies and wakes up in heaven. After his conversation with Bobby, he drives off to find Cas (who, in the script, was listed as “Jimmy Novak” in order to protect against script leaks--who wouldn’t want to do their best to avoid spoilers about the finale with the wrapping of a fifteen-year show?). He does indeed find Cas. We get Dean’s end of the confession. Hell, maybe we even get a kiss. And then Dean sets up his new heaven home in the recreated Harvelle’s. Maybe Cas even fucking moves in.

Years pass. We get Sam having his life on Earth (still can’t explain why they cut Eileen and couldn’t even have Sam signing vaguely to the blurry brunette in the background; if anyone wants to take that on, go for it). Eventually, Cas tells Dean that it’s almost Sam’s time. Dean takes Baby and goes to meet Sam at the bridge. The cover of Carry on My Wayward Son plays during this much shorter sequence. End of episode.

But that’s not what we got. Instead, much of what I just wrote about was excised from the episode. The remnants were stitched together after shooting had been wrapped. Filler was added in the form of montages and long, unnecessary extra shots to get the episode to something approaching a reasonable length.

But why? Why would they spend all that time and money and quarantining on Misha, only to almost completely cut him out of the finale? I struggled with why the fuck the CW would want this mammoth show to go down as the greatest queerbait in TV history when they had the chance to do something truly beautiful and monumental with it? It couldn’t just be sheer homophobia, right? Well, I think that factored into it, my friends, but here is where my head is at right now.

It was about cold, hard cash.

Now I could be wrong, but this is what I’m thinking at the moment: Supernatural is going off of the air. Supernatural, the CW’s cash cow for fifteen years. Sure there is still money to be made on blu-rays and merchandise and cons...but they need people watching their shows. They need that sweet advertising revenue. And you know what show they have about to premiere? A show that could, potentially, bring with it a chunk of that SPN revenue?

Walker.

And if any of you know anything about the original Walker Texas Ranger, you know that the show was predominantly a show about a very heterosexual white man being very excessively heterosexual. And for SOME REASON over the years, many of the execs at the CW still seem to think that this show, Supernatural, is really attractive to a lot of middle-American white men...whom they desperately want to watch this new show with this guy from Supernatural that they already know.

Now here’s where COVID fucked us. I think Destiel was greenlit by TPTB, at least in SOME form, before COVID. But then the pandemic happened, and they panicked. They got the cut of the last two episodes and watched them in their original, probably queer form. And then, the execs at CW looked at the economy. They looked at their cash cow, about to make its journey to the great beyond. And they looked at this new little calf Walker that they were so desperately worried about. And they made a choice.

They decided that it would be too risky to take the step with Destiel. They were worried about frightening off their ever-so-valuable hetero male demographic with the possibility that a traditionally masculine man in his 40s could be in love with another man in an overt way. It was homophobia mixed with greed, spun up by fear for their revenues because of COVID.

So they called in Singer, possibly Dabb, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they went straight to Singer. They told them that Destiel had to go: executive orders. And the only way to make it go in a way that removed any trace of what had been there was to rewrite what happened to Cas and cut him out from the last two episodes entirely. It was too late to reshoot anything. They had to just cut and stitch and fill with bullshit montages.

They removed the scene at the end of 19, probably because Cas and Lucifer discussed Dean. All that was left of Misha there was his voice on that fake phone call. They may have cut other things too, but I would bet my life that they cut a scene from the end of the episode and replaced it with that very strange montage. Then they moved onto 20. They cut out every scene with Cas. And left in only two platonic mentions of him, neither made by Dean. They tried to imply that Cas might show up in Dean’s heaven at some point, but that was as far as the editors could go in the time they had. They filled in with montages, awkwardly long shots, anything they could do to fill all of those missing scenes.

And they even had to take the opening montage, because literally everything in it pointed to Cas being there at the end of it all. They wouldn’t be able to leave out his scenes, they were too critical to the season. They couldn’t cut his confession without raising eyebrows. So they cut the whole thing and moved “Carry On My Wayward Son” to one of the newly-added driving montages at the end. Which is why we awkwardly had both songs play back-to-back--again, such a strange choice unless they were out of options and couldn’t exactly buy rights to a new track or compose anything else.

And so we were left with the shadow of the finale that we deserved, that Cas and Dean deserved. We were left without resolution or happiness or words. Bobo told us the most important thing about happiness is just “saying it” and our characters were silenced without anyone ever knowing the truth.

I think the writers might have known and been given the new party line that “Misha never filmed, he couldn’t, sorry, it was COVID, no one’s fault!” But I don’t think most of the cast even knew it had happened until they watched the finale on Thursday with us (though they might have been confused why the bit from 15x19 was sliced, they could reasonably have assumed it was a time thing and also BL episodes don’t make sense anyway). Why do I say that?

Well, first of all, Misha started sending out a bunch of excited texts to fans with some old BTS pictures about an hour before the show started airing on EST. He also wanted his children to see the episode, his YOUNG children. Why would he show them such a traumatic episode if their Dad wasn’t in it? What if it was because he wanted them to witness what was going to be a monumental moment in queer television history that their DAD got to be a part of? And then that was all dashed.

Which is why I think the cast and crew went almost completely radio silent the next day. I don’t think they knew. And based on how they have been acting on social media since then, I think many of them are absolutely furious, but they have been silenced because of NDAs, because they want to find work again in a cutthroat industry, because they don’t want to bring down the hellfire of Warner Brothers Entertainment upon themselves. So the most we have gotten is a little acknowledgement from the MERCHANDISING COMPANY trying to validate our pain (god bless Shirts, she is a LIFESAVER) and a response to my salty tweet about keeping good stuff in the closet from Adam Williams (the VFX coordinator) that seemed to acknowledge the validity of my complaint.

Then there was a scramble behind the scenes, I would bet my life. Talking points were fed to the boys who had panels today, to CE, to all the cast and crew:

Toe the party line. Misha never filmed. This was always about COVID. Do not mention Destiel. Do not mention Dean’s feelings for Cas. Do not promote the Castiel Project or anything that validates the idea that this was anything less than a superb ending.

And that is why we have heard so little from the cast on this front, and what we have heard has been muddled and contradictory. That is why the writers are saying nothing. That is why we have been left adrift.

Now before I close this out, I do want to say that I really, genuinely do not think this was on the writers at all. I feel like they tried to give us the best ending that they could, in a writers room that we know is notorious for splitting along party lines about the overall story (BL and Singer, who have always been about the brothers and their man-pain vs. Dabb and the rest who always seemed to want more for them and for Cas). I think they did everything in their power to at least end with Dean and Cas happy together. If they could give us nothing else, they wanted to give us that. And then the network took it from them. From us. From everyone.

For the sake of fucking money.

And the WORST PART OF IT ALL, for me, is that in the wake of this disaster, the fans have been left to try and figure out what happened. We have had to wade through a mire of conflicting information in the midst of all of our collective anger and grief over this garbage ending of a show many of us have loved and even relied on for YEARS, all the while wondering if we’re just fucking crazy, if we have all fallen collectively into the hole of conspiracy theories. That hurts ESPECIALLY badly because we have taken so many hits over the years from other groups on social media saying we were crazy for seeing things that weren’t there (especially Destiel), for writing meta and analyzing tropes and believing the evidence of our eyes and ears. The network has made us relive that entire nightmare WHILE processing our grief for a show we wanted so badly to celebrate and which instead we now have to mourn.

So again guys, I cannot prove that this is exactly what happened at all; this is simply my idea of what may have happened. But right now, it’s the most sense I can make from this mess, and to be honest, the act of typing it out has helped me enormously in my processing of it all. I feel like I can see more clearly, like I know where to target my outrage and where to direct empathy. I feel like just fucking maybe, I might be able to do my job tomorrow without bursting into tears at random moments.

I really hope that this post has helped some of you to, in some small way, process this too. We get through this the way that Misha told us at his panel this morning, the way the writers have told us to do all season long...we throw out the story God gave us and we make it better. We write our characters the happy endings they deserve.

We save them.

One last thing--if you have not already, please consider channeling your rage into a donation to one of the five causes our fandom has put together to pay tribute to our beloved show and to mourn the ending it should have had:

-The Castiel Project

-Dean Winchester is Love

-Sam Winchester Project

-The National Association of the Deaf

-The Jack Kline Project

#supernatural season 15 #spn finale #speculation #destiel #destielgate #the ending was not the ending #fuck the cw #trust the story #we were robbed

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willowbird · 2 years

Note

6 + 7 + 2 and Kandrew

Band! Bro-TP! Inside Andrew's closet! Assume this one takes place in the same AU as this other band prompt, because I can.

---

Part One | Part Two

Knock knock.

"Andrew. Andrew come out. This is getting ridiculous."

Knock knock knock.

"I don't see what the big deal it, Andrew. So he sang a song. He's in a band. As the singer. That's kind of what he does."

Knock knock knockknockknockknockknockknock--

Andrew flung the door open with such violence it creaked and shuddered upon its sudden impact with Kevin's knees.

"It wasn't just a song!" Andrew hissed in scathing astonishment. He ignored the sour look his best friend shot him and leaned heavily back against the wall of his closet (where he'd been sulking for the last two hours), before sliding all the way down to sit on the floor.

The tiniest pang of guilt struck when Kevin was still grimacing as he gingerly lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the threshold, but Andrew pushed it away. Now was not the time. He was in crisis here. Kevin should understand that.

"Okay," Kevin said slowly. "Tell me about the song, then."

"No."

A pained look crossed Kevin's face that had nothing to do with being smacked in the knees with a door and Andrew lost all sympathy for him.

"Andrew--"

"No."

"Andrew." Kevin's tone was steady and firm this time, a much younger replica of his dad's Coach Voice that Andrew hated that he couldn't help but listened to. He glared at his friend so he knew how unamused he was, but didn't interrupt again as Kevin continued with, "You like Neil, and he sang you a song. What is so terrible about that?"

Andrew glared. First he glared at Kevin, then he glared at the floor. Then he glared at the ceiling. Then he glared a Kevin again. He huffed, loudly. Then he took in a slow, deep breath and said, "It'll never work. So what, we... date? High school romances never last. We'll date and then he'll realize he doesn't actually want me, and then our friendship will be ruined forever."

"Wow, the gays really are dramatic," Kevin deadpanned.

"Speak for yourself 'Mister Kevin Knox xoxoxo'," Andrew simped right back at him, because Kevin wasn't even careful. He wrote that on the inside of his goddamn science notebook.

Kevin's cheeks darkened to about the shade of a Red Delicious apple, but there really wasn't much he could say to that so, wisely, he didn't try.

"Look," he said instead, "you like him. He likes you. He's made his move by singing a song to you. If you just try to ignore it now it's going to affect your friendship anyway."

"Your logic is offensive," Andrew grumped, draping his forearms across his knees with a sigh and tilting his head back against the wall. This wasn't supposed to happen. Feelings... weren't supposed to get involved. He was just supposed to make out with his hot sassy friend, get it out of his system, and then it would be come that thing that they laughed about when they were older. Now Andrew was attached. Ugh.

Kevin was smiling when Andrew looked at him and, well... It was a small smile, but Kevin's smiles always had Andrew relaxing. Even when they made him mad. There was once a time where Andrew and Kevin were the only ones who knew what each others' smiles looked like, and the sign of that smile always meant that things were gonna be okay. No matter what fucked up shit was going on, no matter how awful and terrible their home lives were, if Kevin could smile about something, about anything, then the world couldn't be that bad. Right? As long as Kevin could smile, Andrew could get through it.

So it was basically against his will - because Andrew really wanted to angst about this more - but he found himself feeling calmer. Feeling, goddamnit, almost hopeful. He tried not to sound too gay about it when he asked, "You really think this could work?"

Kevin nudged his toe with his own and that small smile shifted into a shy grin.

"Yeah, Andrew, I think this could work. Just... talk to him about it at least, okay? You know Neil will be honest with you if you're honest with him. Talking about feelings and shit sucks but... I mean... don't you think it might be worth it?"

And Andrew thought about that for a moment. Was it worth it? Was Neil worth it?

"Okay," he said before the thought had even finished formulating in his mind. Because the answer was obvious.

Now Kevin was outright grinning and Andrew scowled so he wouldn't smile too, that would be giving away too much. He kicked at Kevin's ankles with a snort. "Don't get too excited, Day. Once I've got Neil as my boyfriend I'm enlisting him to help me invade your love life."

"You wouldn't dare," Kevin hissed.

Now it was Andrew's turn to smirk. He kicked out again, but this time kept his leg extended enough that he could rest his calf against Kevin's. "Fuckin watch me."

#asks #aftg #aftg prompt game #kandrew bro-tp #kevin day #andrew minyard #band au #highschool au #gay disaster andrew minyard #my writing

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anamelessfacelessnerd · 3 years

Text

s1 Jonmartimsasha Polycule headcannons (NSFW under the cut)

Tim is the tallest at 6’3, Martin is 6’, Sasha is 5’10, and Jon is the shortest at 5’7

Martin is the first one to say “I love you” to all of them. Tim and Sasha has said it to each other before, as they were together before the polycule got together, but not to the entire group.

They’re all really into board games. Sasha and Jon get super competitive, so much so that they don’t even notice Martin and Tim teaming up to beat them.

They all love music. Any kind of music really. Sometimes they tease each other about the kind of music they listen to, but they will listen to it anyway because music is a great way to understand the deepest corners of someone’s heart and mind. (If they were all alive and well in 2021 they would go HARD to drivers license)

They love dancing too. They have dance parties in their living room all the time. Tim was an assistant dance teacher at his local community center throughout most of university, so he teaches them to salsa and swing dance and ballroom dance and so much more. Jon was a bit grumpy about it in the beginning, but now he’s really good at dancing.

They usually share a bed, but they do have a second bedroom as well for guests if they have them or if one of them is sick or just doesn’t want to share the bed that night. Everyone thought it would be Jon who used it most often, but it’s actually Sasha. In fact, Jon only uses it when he’s contagious.

Sometimes Sasha will go to sleep in the spare bed, then get lonely or cold during the night and have to rejoin the “boy pile” as she calls it.

Jon is basically a clingy cat. He can’t resist cuddles, naps, and warms rays of sunshine. He may even purr if you play with his hair.

Jon is tiny and all the others can and do pick him up, sometimes just to mess with him.

Sasha has an undercut and the boys take turns choosing what color to dye it. Tim actively tries to pick the mose outlandish and funky colors. Martin spends a lot of time thinking about her hair color, skin tone, and the colors of her clothing before he picks a color that would go well with everything. Jon always forgets until they’re in the store so he just picks the first color that speaks to him, and it usually ends up being Sasha’s favorite.

They convinced Jon to dye one of his grey streaks purple once. He really liked it but Elias gave him dirty looks until it faded.

Once when they had all gotten a bit drunk, Tim convinced them all to get matching tatoos. They decided on each getting the symbol for a different suit of playing cards on their ankles. Martin got a heart, Tim got a diamond, Sasha got a club, and Jon got a spade.

Legally they couldn’t get married but after a while they start calling each other their spouses and they even get wedding bands.

They have an elderly long haired cat named “Sargent Fuzzypaws” or “Sarge” for short.

They have weekly movie nights where they take turns picking movies. Martin likes sci-fi and fantasy, Tim likes classic B horror movies, and Sasha likes period dramas or superhero movies. Jon makes them watch documentaries at first, but once he is comfortable that they won’t make fun of him, he reveals his true love of rom coms.

Jon and Sasha are more or less the same clothing size, and they share clothes all the time. Jon especially likes wearing her skirts and dresses. He likes them so much in fact that Tim, Martin, and Sasha buy him some for his birthday.

Jon and Sasha also love to steal Martin and Tim’s clothes because they’re big and comfy.

Every weekend they go out on a date that they take turns planning. Martin tends to take them on walks in the park and nice picnics. Tim drags them to clubs whenever he can (he claims it keeps them young), but will bring them to a pub instead if they’re not feeling a club that night. Jon likes to plan day trips to Calais. It’s a long drive (about 3hrs each way), but they don’t mind as long as they’re spending time together. Sasha plans these fun guided tours of musesums, historical events, old warships, “haunted” buildings and whatnot.

Jon doesn’t have his drivers license. Tim does but he’s a terrible driver, he speeds, he takes turns to sharp, and he practically gives the rest of them a heart attack every time. Sasha and Martin are the only good drivers.

Sasha and Martin were the ones who decorated the flat. Tim’s still a frat boy at heart and after seeing his old apartment, all three of the others decided that he couldn’t help them decorate. He didn’t really mind until they made him throw out his rainbow monster energy can display (“But Sasha, it’s a rainbow! We’re gay! It fits perfectly!” “Idc Tim, it’s ugly”). Jon’s taste was a little too dark for the rest of them. They spent the majority of the week days in a dark basement, they needed a bright and colorful place to come home to.

They all think they’re being really subtle when they first start out, but everyone knows right away. Elias considers talking to them about it, as a relationship between archival staff is strictly against the employee handbook (that he wrote of course) but then decided to leave it be as the closer they are, the easier it will be to use one to manipulate the others.

They have pride flags all over the apartment. Pan, bi, ace, poly, the classic rainbow flag, they even have duplicates of some of them.

Tim is incapable of not buying anything rainbow that he sees. Everytime he goes out for groceries he comes back with balloons, or a rainbow bouquet, or more likely, some sort of candy with rainbow packaging.

Speaking of bouquets, Martin loves buying them flowers. He does it all the time. He’ll pick them up on the way home or even have them sent to the institute, anything to bring a smile to their faces.

The group dynamic changes so much based on who’s hanging out with who. Here is a handy chart:

Jon is pretty sex neutral. He doesn’t tend to engage, but he usually likes to watch or just be in the same room. Sometime he sits with them on the bed and kisses/touches them, though he rarely wants to be touched.

When he does want to be touched, the others spend hours taking him apart completely.

He does love kissing and making out though. Martin in particular loves making out with Jon. Jon will often get him worked up and then turn him over to Sasha and Tim to take care of the rest.

Tim and Martin get so horny when they’re alone together. Tim’s a literal sex god and he loves groping Martin and whispering dirty things in his ear to work him up. Sasha does this to the two of them as well, though not as much as Tim.

When Martin tops he’s sweet and gentle until he gets close, then he pounds in mercilessly.

Sasha’s rough the whole time. She slaps them and bites them and calls them names the whole time.

Tim’s really good at dirty talk. He’ll lean down and whisper beautiful yet filthy things in their ear until they come

Jon is king of aftercare. He’s become so in tune with his lovers’ bodies that he always knows exactly when to put the kettle on in order to have warm tea waiting for when they finish.

#the magnus archives #the magnus institute #tma #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jon sims #elias bouchard #jonny sims #sasha james #tim stoker #jonmartin #jonmartim #jonmartimsasha #tma s1 #tma s1 spoilers #tma season one

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paintingwithdarkness · 3 years

Note

"i run the night slot on campus radio and some jackass keeps calling in to insult my music taste and request high school musical songs instead” with BluePulse please!

“Good evening, Tigers! You’re listening to Houston U’s nightly segment. I’m your host, Jaime Reyes. Y’all just listened to ‘Today is the Day’ by Yo La Tengo. Next up we have ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes.” Jaime pressed a button on the console in front of him, starting the next song before adding on to his commentary. “If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to call in!”

Jaime switched off his microphone and let the song play, flopping back in his chair. Running the night segment of the Houston University campus radio was a pretty chill gig. It paid him above minimum wage for every hour he worked, he only had to work six hour shifts, and it was only five days a week. Besides that, it was a solo job, and no one was there to tell him what to do. Obviously there had been some ground rules when he’d been hired— no cursing on air, and he had to take call-ins from students— but other than that, he had free rein of the radio frequency and he could play whatever music he wanted from 6 pm to Midnight, Monday through Friday. All he had to do was press buttons on a control console, sit back, relax, and occasionally answer the phone.

Speaking of which... Jaime checked the time. 10:28 pm. Great, that meant it was almost time.

With a groan, he raised a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, eyes squeezing shut. Every night for the past two weeks at exactly 10:30 pm, without fail, the same jackass student had been calling in to insult his music taste and request High School Musical songs instead. The first time it had happened, Jaime had been shocked at the audacity of the student, but had granted the song request anyway. (He had to. It was part of his contract. If a person called in with a song request, Jaime had to grant it. The only exception was if someone requested a song that was inappropriate to air. As long as it had clean/sensored language, and was free from overly explicit themes, Jaime queued up the song).

He mentally prepared himself. ‘Seven Nation Army’ was just about over, and Jaime already had his next song selected. If he timed things right, he could take the annoying student’s call during the next song, and wouldn’t have to subject himself to humiliation where everyone who was listening to his station could hear. It had only taken Jaime three nights to catch onto the trend.

As the guitar faded out, Jaime switched back on his microphone and addressed his audience, “That one’s a classic. ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. Hope y’all enjoyed that one. I’ve got a few more songs in store for y’all with the time we have left-”

The tell-tale ring of the phone interrupted him. Jaime had to bite his tongue to prevent the string of Spanish curses that wanted to fall from his lips from actually coming out. He had spent too long talking, and now he had to take the dreaded call on-air.

He took a deep breath, and had to layer on the enthusiasm thick as he ‘cheerily’ exclaimed, “It looks like we have our first caller of the night!” Jaime picked up the phone and gave the scripted greeting, “Hello, fellow Tiger! You’re on-air with Houston U’s nightly segment. Care to introduce yourself to all the listeners out there?”

Like all the nights previous when Jaime had asked this question, he got the same response. “Nah. I think I’ll stay anonymous. Keep things interesting. Though if you want a clue, I’ll tell you; I’m on the track team.”

Jaime scrambled for his notebook. That was the biggest clue he’d gotten yet about this mysterious student caller. It was almost like some kind of game. So far, every night when this student had called in, they’d said they wanted to remain anonymous, yet would give a clue about their identity. So far, Jaime had a bulleted list of eight items, with ‘track team’ being number nine. The other clues he’d received were ‘hates Indie Rock’ (which was Jaime’s favorite genre of music, thank you very much), ‘favorite movie is High School Musical 2’ (which was blatantly obvious, based on the songs this jackass student always requested), ‘favorite color is red’ (which told Jaime squat about who this kid was), ‘favorite food is chicken whizzes’ (once again, jack shit), ‘red hair’ (which was the first major clue Jaime had gotten), ‘green eyes’ (now it was obvious the kid wanted Jaime to figure out who he was), ‘5’9”’ (somewhat helpful), ‘Freshman’ (which eliminated 3/4 of the students on campus this caller could be), ‘mechanical engineering major’ (another somewhat helpful clue), and ‘gay’ (which, wow, Jaime would never out himself live on the air. This guy had some balls...).

After the mad scramble for a pencil, Jaime flipped the notebook open and single-handedly jotted down the new piece of information, balancing the phone against his ear with the other hand. When he was finished, he leaned back in the big leather chair, kicking his feet up against the edge of the desk in front of himself, feeling satisfied. Jaime knew he had enough information now to track down this annoying student and put an end to these stupid calls interrupting his radio show every night. Tonight would be the last time ‘We’re All in This Together’, ‘Bop to the Top’, or ‘Get Your Head in the Game’ would play during his segment, and Jaime was RELIEVED.

“Is that why you feel the need to call into my show every night?” Jaime fired back at the student. “So you can rope all of your track mates into singing ‘We’re All in This Together’ while you run in circles?”

An airy laugh was the response. And there a slight second where Jaime thought to himself, ‘Wow. That’s actually kinda cute,’ before his brain rebooted and he realized how counterintuitive that was. This guy was an annoyance that had to be dealt with. So what if he had an attractive laugh? It didn’t erase all of the other judgements Jaime had already formed of this student. And they were that this guy had terrible music taste and needed to find another hobby besides calling in every night to bug the shit out of Jaime.

“What better song to commemorate mutual suffering?” The other man laughed again.

Jaime scowled. ‘Mutual suffering’? Sure, Jaime knew the vexing student was talking about his track mates, but he couldn’t help catching the irony in the choice of words. As far as Jaime was concerned, the only one doing any suffering was him.

“So is that your request for tonight?” Jaime just wanted to get this over with already.

A contemplative “hmmm” made its way down the line, before being followed with, “Well, I was originally gonna ask for ‘Get Your Head in the Game’ but ‘All in this Together’ works nicely, too.”

“Por Díos,” Jaime mumbled under his breath. “¿No puede este idiota tomar una decisión?”

“Woah, hey, is that Spanish?!” Apparently Jaime’s mumblings hadn’t been quiet enough. “Yo hablo español!”

Jaime cringed. The pronounciation was terrible, but the enthusiasm was endearing. And dammit! He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. His train of thought was off the tracks again.

Without saying anything else, Jaime turned to his computer, quickly punched ‘We’re All in this Together’ into the song search bar, and hit play. He switched over the audio connection so that the only thing his audience could hear was the music, took a deep breath, and then made his rebuttal to the annoying student.

“You might want to work on that pronounciation, ese.”

The response was whiny. “Aww, it’s not that bad!”

Jaime cringed. “It’s not great, either.”

The student on the other line sighed. “Fine. But at least I have good taste in music!”

“That’s debatable.” Jaime didn’t know why he was dragging out the conversation. Usually after he granted this annoying caller’s request each night, the student rattled off a final jab at Jaime, before just hanging up. Why was he staying on the line tonight? Maybe Jaime just had to direct the conversation in that direction?

“My music is better than what you play every night. I’m doing you and your radio station a favor!” And yep, there it was.

“I don’t think people are tuning into my station to listen to the one High School Musical song you insist I play every night.”

Jaime could practically hear the smirk through the line when the other student responded. “Even if people are tuning in to listen to your crappy music, my song is still the highlight.”

Jaime groaned. He was growing weary of this conversation. “Do you listen to anything besides terrible High School Musical songs?”

That cute laugh caught in Jaime’s ears again. “Doi. A guy needs to have a little variety in his music. I’ve also got ‘Can’t Stop Singing’, ‘Turn Up the Music’, ‘Determinate’-”

Jaime’s eyes rolled skyward. “I’m gonna stop you there. Does your playlist contain any songs that aren’t from Disney Channel movies?”

A horrified gasp marked the beginning of the indignant response. “What’s wrong with Disney movies? High School Musical is the crashest movie series in existence.”

Jaime didn’t have enough time to think over the choice of the word ‘crashest’ before the other student continued rambling on.

“What other kind of music do you need?! Disney movies have great numbers, teach you about life and friendship, and growing up, and you gotta be kidding me if you don’t think Zac Efron is hot playing Troy.”

Jaime snorted a laugh for the last amendment to the other student’s statement. He’d only watched High School Musical once, and that was enough for him. And despite occasionally finding other men attractive (being bisexual himself), Zac Efron had never really done it for Jaime.

“I wouldn’t exactly call those ‘musical numbers’ as you put it, any type of masterpiece, however, I suppose you earn a pass for the friendship and growing up part.” Jaime smartly decided to skip the Zac Efron comment altogether, “I would say I’m more of a fan of the Disney animated movies. At least I can tolerate the Lion King and Aladdin sound tracks.”

A little puff of a chuckle, and then, “You should really get a better hobby than bashing on Disney movies.”

Jaime scoffed and immediately fired back, “You’re the one who calls me every night to bash on my music.”

“Oooh.” The other student made a hissing sound, as if a flame were being extinguished. “Caught red handed. But—” And here, Jaime could sense something dangerous was about to be said— “how about we settle this once and for all. You obviously don’t get out of the radio studio enough. What say you come to the next Houston U track meeting? We can settle this music debate once and for all.” Yep. That was a challenge.

Jaime took a few seconds to deliberate. He was curious to see who this mysterious caller was. Besides, what harm could it do? Jaime was not the type to back down when he was challenged. He had his pride and dignity. He would not be bested by this asshole. He was going to go to that track meeting.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, ese.” If the other student were there in person, Jaime could imagine shaking his hand to seal the contract.

“Alright,” the other student said, and if Jaime wasn’t mistaken, he sounded rather gleeful that Jaime had taken the bait, “I’ll see you there.” And then the line went dead.

Jaime ran a hand through his hair as he hung up the phone with the other. What had he gotten himself into?

The next Houston U track meeting was a week and two days since the fated phone call. Since that night, the mysterious student caller hadn’t rung Jaime’s radio station. It was a power move, and a good one at that. He had put the ball in Jaime’s court (or passed him the baton? That was a track thing, right?), meaning all responsibility was on him. In all honesty, Jaime was tempted to skip out on their ‘deal’. Sure, he’d agreed, but only because Jaime’d thought it was the key to get the student to stop calling. Now that the calls had stopped, Jaime saw no reason to get involved and draw attention back to himself. Maybe if he didn’t go, the annoying student would just leave him alone.

On the other hand, if he didn’t go, wouldn’t that just give the other student more incentive to start calling him again? Not only would Jaime continue to get bashed for his music taste, but then the other student would also be able to expose him as a liar. That was definitely NOT the reputation Jaime wanted to have. He had no choice. He HAD to go to that stupid track meeting.

It didn’t mean he didn’t drag his feet the whole way to the field though. Even with his ticket and getting there five minutes early, it was near impossible to find a seat. Jaime had no idea a sporting event like track would be so popular. What was so special about a bunch of guys running around in a circle?

It took a little shoving and some mumbled “sorry”s and “excuse me”s before Jaime was finally able to plunk down next to a young couple, in one of the only empty seats left. They seemed like nice enough people; the man even tried making small talk with him once Jaime sat down; but Jaime’s shy demeanor prevented the conversation from launching into something deeper.

Once the couple was no longer paying him much attention, Jaime surreptitiously slipped his little pocket notebook out of his jeans and flipped it open to the page where he had noted all of the little clues his mystery caller had given him.

Unfortunately, only some of them were usable in this context. Clues about the other student’s personality and preferences wouldn’t help Jaime identify anyone. Only the clues the track star had given Jaime about his physical appearance would be of use. He was looking for a redheaded, green-eyed, 5’9” Freshman. Should be simple enough.

When Jaime glanced down to where the runners were stretching by the starting blocks, he immediately noticed three boys with red hair. Luckily, this track meet was only a Houston U event and other schools weren’t participating. That meant one of the three was his mysterious caller.

From this distance, Jaime couldn’t judge eye color, and height was difficult to gage. He supposed he would have to wait for the announcers to give the names and grades of the competitors. Hopefully only one of the redheads would be a Freshman, and Jaime could find his culprit.

Within a few minutes, a runner was at the blocks for every lane. The first event was the 100m sprint. Everyone on the team would be participating. Only six could go at a time, and the announcer said that there would be three heats. Unfortunately for Jaime, the announcer didn’t bother with the names of the competitors since everyone was running, but he hoped that at least the winners would be announced, in case his redhead happened to be one of them.

In the first heat, two of the three red-haired boys were lined up at the blocks. Jaime trained his eyes on them. The first boy was in the second lane, and the other in the sixth lane. Hopefully one of the two would win so that Jaime could narrow down his suspects.

When the starting gun fired, all six runners took off like rockets. The pure speed was quite a shock for Jaime to witness. Within fifteen seconds, all six runners crossed the finish line.

“Winner!” The announcer shouted, once first place for the heat had been determined. He held up the arm of one of the redheads Jaime had been watching. “Senior Wally West with a time of 10.8 seconds!”

An elderly couple three seats over from where Jaime was sitting sprang out of their seats cheering. “Yeah, Wally!” shouted the man. His wife was enthusiastically clapping.

When they sat down again, the couple next to Jaime (conveniently sandwiched between him and the cheering couple) turned to face them.

“Wow!” the blond man next to Jaime exclaimed. “That’s his fastest time yet!”

The other blond man laughed (and it was then that Jaime noticed the striking resemblance). “He’s been working hard. Of course, he’s no match for Bart, but just maybe Wally might have a shot at beating him in the 3200m.”

The brunette woman of the younger couple hummed, a smirk resting on her lips. “I don’t know about that one. Our Bart’s got Thawne blood, too. He’s got runners from both sides. Wests... not so much.”

“Mel!” the man next to Jaime gasped, scandalized. “I thought we said no family rivalry at track meets?”

Immediately the brunette woman, Mel, appologized. “Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s right,” the man from the elderly couple interjected. “You have to remember Donny’s got some West blood himself. Iris was a West before she married me.” He slung an arm around the graying red-haired woman sitting beside him.

It was then that Jaime was able to piece it together. The young blond man— Donny— sitting next to him, was the son of the elderly couple— Iris and her husband (unfortunately Jaime didn’t have his name yet). The younger brunette woman— Mel— was Donny’s wife, and one of the runners— Bart— was their son, and the grandson of the elderly couple. Wally— the runner who had just won the first heat was a relative (?) of the two couples.

By the time Jaime was done puzzling out the relations, the next heat of runners was already at the starting blocks. Unfortunately, the other redhead, whom Jaime guessed was Bart, was not in this heat.

The starting gun fired, and the race was over within fifteen seconds again. The winner was announced, and the runners of the third heat took their places.

Jaime’s gaze zeroed in on the redhead in the first lane. That must be Bart. Mel and Donny were balanced on the edges of their seats next to Jaime.

As soon as the gun fired, Bart was nearly a quarter of the way down the lane. He was insanely fast. Jaime wouldn’t be surprised if he hit an Olympic time. His teammates stood no chance.

When he was announced the winner, Jaime had to do a double take at the 9.63 second time blinking on the screen behind him. That was more than a second faster than Wally, who had won the first heat.

“‘Attaboy, Bart!” Donny yelled.

The exclamation caused Bart’s attention to be drawn towards them. He waved proudly at his parents, and then his gaze caught on Jaime. Even from this distance Jaime could see the electric green eyes trained on him. There was no mistaking it now. Even with the other redhead to consider (since Jaime hadn’t heard his name or grade announced yet), he was certain Bart was his mystery caller. There was something in his eyes— a knowing glint— that made Jaime nervous. Could Bart know who he was?

It wasn’t completely impossible. Because he ran the campus radio at night, Jaime had a page on the school website. His name and picture were plastered right along side Cassie and Gar’s. Cassie had the morning shift from 6 am to noon, and Gar’s comedy segment ran from noon to 6 pm, when Jaime started. All Bart had to do was look him up and he would know exactly who Jaime was.

In retrospect, Jaime easily could have done the same to figure out who his annoying caller was. Once he’d received the track team clue, he could have pulled up the roster and narrowed his suspects down. He could have ruled out Wally because he was a Senior, and possibly even the other redhead based on his year. The announcer had said that Bart was a Freshman when he’d announced him as a winner, so Jaime figured he was the most likely of the three to be the caller. He matched all of the physical descriptors.

There were two more sprinting events that followed, each doubling the distance of the previous. After witnessing the 100m event, Jaime wasn’t surprised when Bart came in first for the 200m and 400m. It was honestly impressive. Bart was talented both in the art of running and annoying Jaime over phone calls. Truly difficult feats.

Once the sprinting events were finished, the competitors moved onto the field. Unlike the sprinting events, some members of the team sat out. Jaime noticed only six members of the team were participating. Two for discus, two for shot put and two for javelin. Neither Bart nor Wally was one of the six. The other redhead on the other hand, was lined up at the javelin throwing line.

Jaime paid him little mind. As soon as the announcer introduced him as a Senior, Jaime tuned out completely. Now there was absolutely no doubt whatsoever. Bart was his mystery caller.

While the field events took place, Jaime watched Bart stretching out on the side of the track. He was surprisingly limber. And Jaime had nothing to blame but the part of his mind attracted to men when he watched Bart bend over in his running shorts to stretch out his hamstrings. He had really nice legs, among... other things.

Jaime shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. He’d come here to put Bart in his place because of the annoying phone calls. Not admire his amazing calves.

When the field events were over, some members of the team moved back onto the track for the hurdle events. Again, Bart was not amongst them.

“He doesn’t do hurdles either?” Jaime accidentally mused aloud.

Donny turned to look at him. “First track meeting?” he asked, kindly.

Jaime felt a blush crop up on his cheeks. He hadn’t meant for his comment to be out loud.

“Yeah,” he admitted, despite his embarrassment.

Donny gave him a smile. “They each only do one event plus the sprints. You’ve got the three field events, hurdles, and long distance.”

“Oh.” Jaime nodded to show he understood.

Donny outstretched his hand. “I’m Don.”

Jaime shook Bart’s father’s hand. “Jaime,” he returned.

When Don took his hand back, he used it to point to his wife. “This is my wife, Meloni.”

The brunette woman waved at him.

“And my parents, Barry and Iris.” He gestured at each member of the older couple as well.

Jaime ducked his head shyly. “Nice to meet you all.”

The pop of the starting gun drew their attention back to the track where the hurdlers had just taken off from the blocks. Jaime watched on in interest, amazed at the skill that had been displayed today. He’d never imagined a track meet being this entertaining.

After a few moments, Don turned back to him. “Who’re you here for?” He pointed down at the track members surrounding the edge of the rubberized circle, cheering on their participating teammates.

Jaime felt that blush bloom on his cheeks again. Should he be honest? He was sitting right next to Bart’s parents. What if they started asking questions he didn’t have the answers to?

“Uh, I-I’m here for Bart.” He didn’t really have any other options. He didn’t know the names of any of the other track members.

Donny’s green eyes suddenly lit up. “Bart didn’t tell us his boyfriend was coming! It’s quite a coincidence we ended up sitting next to one another!”

Jaime gave a hard blink, processing the sentences that had just exited the blond man’s mouth. “Uh, we’re not-”

Meloni cut him off. “Oh! You’re the one who runs the campus radio! I knew your name sounded familiar. Bart talks about you all the time!”

The first thought that went through Jaime’s mind was, ‘Does he now?’. There was no mistaking it. Bart was 100 percent the annoying student who called into his radio segment each night. And Bart knew who he was. As soon as this track meeting was over, Jaime was definitely going to have some words with him.

“It’s so nice to finally get to meet you!”

Jaime didn’t know whether he should burst their bubble. Don and Meloni seemed like genuinely good people, and they were happy for their son having seemingly found a relationship. Although their assumptions weren’t true, Jaime knew he would feel extremely bad telling them otherwise.

Luckily, there wasn’t much time for him to dwell on the subject. As soon as the winners for the hurdling events were determined, the obstacles were cleared off the track and the next set of runners were lining up at the starting blocks. Two heads of red hair immediately caught Jaime’s attention. Bart and Wally were lining up in lanes one and two, while a few more of their track mates joined them in the other lanes.

“Who do you think it’ll be this time?” Barry posed the question aloud.

“I think Bart’s got a running shot.”

Everyone groaned at Don’s poor-quality joke.

“I apologize on my husband’s behalf,” Meloni mostly addressed Jaime, “What he meant was that Bart’s been working on his pacing. He’s the fastest on the team, and has always taken first in all of the sprinting events, but Wally always gives him some good competition for the long distance stuff.”

Jaime nodded thoughtfully. Bart had definitely been fast; no doubt about that. But he was curious to see how he would do in an event that required more endurance. Apparently he would actually have some competition this time, unlike in the sprinting events where Bart had left all of his teammates in the dust.

When the starting gun fired, Jaime found himself actually holding his breath. This first distance was 1500m, just shy of a mile. Jaime could remember having to do the one mile run in P.E. back in high school and how much of a pain it had been. The best time Jaime had ever gotten was just over six minutes.

For the first lap or so, Wally and Bart were neck and neck. The rest of their teammates were about half a lap behind. Then, when they went into the second lap, Bart kicked it up a notch, pulling ahead. Wally kept his own even pace, a schooled look of determination set over his features, while Bart’s lips transformed into a confident smirk.

By the final lap, Bart and Wally were shoulder to shoulder again. It was clear that Wally had the superior skill when it came to pacing, as he had been able to keep the same speed the whole time, whereas Bart’s speed had varied in spurts, depending on his level of endurance. It was unclear which one of them was going to win.

When Jaime looked around at the stands, he could see fans eagerly debating which one of the redheads they thought was going to win. The general consensus seemed to be Wally, but Jaime had a feeling his High School Musical-song-loving caller had a trick up his sleeve.

When they reached the last 100m or so of the race, the stadium burst into cheering, each person of the audience shouting encouragement to their respective runner. Against all odds, and to the surprise of many, Bart burst into a full out sprint, easily overtaking Wally, and crossing the finish line with an enthusiastic whoop.

Jaime was absolutely shocked to say the least. After running three laps, how had Bart found the energy for that last burst of speed?

A time of 4.02 minutes flashed on the screen behind them as the announcer proclaimed Bart the winner. Meloni and Don broke into cheers beside Jaime, and Barry and Iris clapped as well to show their support. Even Jaime found a small smile working it’s way onto his lips as he clapped, in awe of the impressive speed Bart had just displayed.

There was a few minutes between events while the results of the race were recorded and the next set of runners lined up at the starting blocks. Again, both Bart and Wally were among the competitors. This time, the distance was more than double what they had just run at 3200m. Jaime was curious to see how Bart would hold up against the longer distance.

When the starting gun fired, all of the runners took off as a group, rather than Bart and Wally distinguishing themselves from the pack right away. With eight laps to go, Jaime supposed it made sense. No point in going all out during the first half of the race, only to burn out when it really mattered. Bart and Wally would probably wait until the final few laps to burst ahead of their teammates.

Around and around the track they went, keeping pace with one another until the sixth lap. As soon as they passed the starting line, all of the runners kicked it up a notch, and gaps between the competitors became more noticeable. As expected, Wally and Bart pulled ahead of everyone else, and chatter broke out amongst the crowd about which redhead it would be this time.

Barry and Iris seemed to have their money on their nephew (Jaime had finally pieced it together when Barry made the comment about Iris being a West before marriage), whereas Don and Meloni, being the proud parents they were, were betting on their son to come out on top. Jaime couldn’t help being biased, and was also rooting for Bart. After all, he was the whole reason Jaime was at this track meet to begin with.

Bart was giving his all. Halfway into the last lap, he was ahead of Wally by a few steps. It seemed like he had the win in the bag. Then out of nowhere, Wally pulled the same stunt Bart had last time.

Jaime could see Bart do a double take when his cousin passed him, but there was nothing he could do. Bart’s strength was his speed; not endurance. He was only able to give about 80 percent, whereas Wally had paced himself better, and could pour 100 percent of his speed into the last leg of the race.

While Jaime was disappointed to see Bart take second, he was still impressed overall. Wally had beat Bart by two seconds, but Bart had beat the rest of his team by nearly ten seconds, meaning he and Wally had had quite an impressive lead.

Barry, Iris, Don and Meloni were engaged in a chat about the outcome of the latest race, but Jaime found his eyes glued to his not-so-mysterious (anymore) caller. Despite losing the last event, Bart seemed to be a good sport. He and Wally were standing on the sidelines, getting a quick drink and catching their breaths before the final event was set to start. Between gulps of water, Jaime could see the cousins teasing one another, egging each other on, and hyping one another up for the competition of the next race.

When they were called over to the track for the last event, Bart elbowed Wally in the ribs with a cocky smirk on his face, and Wally retaliated by pulling the smaller man into a headlock to ruffle his hair. Jaime didn’t quite know what to make of it, other than that Bart seemed to have a cocky, playful personality. It explained why he had been so adamant about playing the stupid identity game he had roped Jaime into over the phone during his radio segments each night.

The last distance was 5000m, or approximately 12 laps. Just thinking about that much running made Jaime want to cry. Needless to say, he wasn’t a huge fan of running. Other sports, sure, but running was not something Jaime enjoyed for himself. He would have to give massive kudos to Bart for having enough dedication to running to put himself through the 12 lap race.

Again, all of the runners stayed in a pack for the majority of the race. By about lap eight, it was clear who the real endurance runners were. The six competitors had spread out, a few feet behind one another, with Wally leading. There was a black-haired guy on his heels, and following behind him were Bart and another black-haired runner, a little shorter than the man in front of him. Two more runners were taking up the rear.

Laps nine, ten and eleven passed without much change. It wasn’t until they got into the final lap that Bart mustered the energy to pull ahead of his two black-haired teammates and take up the trail behind his cousin.

Wally’s winning time of fourteen minutes and two seconds flashed up on the scoreboard, followed by Bart’s time of 14.08. Jaime almost had to do a double take. When he calculated the math, it meant Bart had averaged a time of approximately a minute and eleven seconds per lap, and Wally had been faster still!

While the judges and officials were confirming the results of all of the events that had taken place, the stadium around Jaime burst to life as audience members began to make their exit down to the track to meet with and congratulate the athletes they had come to support. Beside him, Don, Meloni, Barry and Iris stood from their seats and gathered up their belongings, preparing to go congratulate Bart and Wally on their wins in today’s events.

“You should come with us, Jaime,” Meloni suggested when Jaime didn’t stand up with the rest of them.

Immediately, a stone sank in the college student’s stomach. What would Bart think if he saw Jaime with his parents? He and Bart hadn’t even met yet. How would Jaime be able to explain if Bart’s parents brought up the boyfriend issue?

Reluctantly, Jaime got up to follow the two couples down to the track. He was sweat-dropping. He really hoped Bart’s parents wouldn’t make things awkward.

As soon as he was in range, Don slung an arm around his son’s shoulders, congratulating him on his multiple wins. Meloni also smothered Bart in a hug when she got her opportunity, cooing over how well he had done. Beside them, Barry and Iris were doing much of the same to their nephew, expressing their awe of Wally’s endurance in the long-distance events. Meanwhile, Jaime stood awkwardly by, waiting for a chance to hopefully have a chat with his not-so-mysterious caller.

When the Allens finally separated from their son, Jaime locked eyes with Bart. There was a glint in those green irises that Jaime couldn’t place. It wasn’t good or bad per say; Jaime could only describe it as making him feel on edge, ready to tip one way or the other.

As soon as Meloni noticed the stare between the two boys, she immediately turned on Bart, much to Jaime’s horror.

“Bart! Why haven’t you introduced us to your boyfriend? He’s such a handsome young man.” She used an insistant hand to push Jaime forward, so much so that he almost stumbled and fell into the chest of his supposed “boyfriend”. Luckily, Bart’s hands came up and caught him by the biceps before that could happen.

Both his and Bart’s eyes widened. Pink burned hot on each of their cheeks. Jaime took a quick step back. He felt like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Well?” Don goaded. “Don’t be shy! I’m glad to see my son’s finally been able to put the Allen-family charm to use! How long have you two been together?”

Jaime could feel the color in his cheeks getting darker by the second. Bart was still giving him this weird look, as if it weren’t his parents who had instigated this whole conversation in the first place. The prolonged awkward eye contact was making Jaime uneasy, and he was tempted to just speak up and shut down Bart’s parent’s idea about him and their son being in a relationship, but before he had the chance, Bart was clearing his throat to speak.

The track star raised a hand to the back of his neck, and Jaime had to do a double-take at the innocent “embarrassed” façade he was now putting on. “Well,” he said, playing bashful, “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, Babe.”

Jaime’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates upon hearing the pet name. Bart was just going to go along with this?!

Without preamble, the redhead slung his arm around Jaime’s shoulders, crushing him into his side in a display of “affection” for his parents’ benefit. “Jaime’s a little shy,” Bart said, when Jaime failed to fill in the silence. “He wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I’m actually a little surprised he came to the track meet today.”

Bart subtly bumped Jaime’s hip with his own, which was a cue for him to talk. It took a moment for the raven-haired boy to scramble for a response. He would play along... for now.

“I had to see if you were as good as you were making yourself out to be,” Jaime had noticed Bart’s encoded message; he hadn’t expected Jaime to take his phone call seriously and show up. Jaime was giving his own back in return (I had to discover who the annoying caller was).

Bart chuckled. “Would I ever lie to you?”

Jaime had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Now the guy was just laying it on thick.

“Of course not, Chiquito.” The pet name came out from behind clenched teeth.

Luckily, Mel and Donny seemed to buy their act. When it was clear they were in the clear, Bart asked, “Mom, Dad, is it okay if I have a few minutes alone with my boyfriend?”

Meloni and Don shared a look before Don said, “Okay. But no hankey-pankey behind the bleachers!” He waved a finger at them, teasing smile in place over his lips.

Jaime felt himself going pink. “Of course not, Sir,” he managed to get out, in spite of how mixed up this situation had gotten.

Bart grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him a little ways down the track so that they were out of Meloni and Don’s hearing range. As soon as he had the opportunity, Jaime whirled on him.

“What the hell was that back there, ese?” Jaime hissed.

Bart shrugged. “They bought it, didn’t they?”

Jaime felt his eyes narrow into a glare. “Why didn’t you correct them?”

Bart did another shrug, this time with a knowing expression on his face. “It’s not like you said anything either.”

Jaime’s glare fell apart under the truthful accusation. It was his fault for not immediately shutting down the idea when Don had first brought it up to him in the stands.

Bart placed his hands on his hips and began rocking back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels. “In all honesty, I’m actually surprised you showed up.”

Jaime emulated Bart’s pose, resting a fist against his hip and gesturing with the other. “Well, I couldn’t risk you calling back during my segment tonight and accusing me of being a liar in front of my entire audience, now could I?”

Bart tilted his head in such a way that Jaime had to repress the thought of ‘Oh, that’s cute,’ before it accidentally slipped out of his mouth.

A faint pink blush rose to Bart’s cheeks. “I guess I did kind of back you into a corner, didn’t I?” He raised a hand to the back of his neck, and it was the moment that Jaime realized Bart was genuinely sorry for having done so. While he may have wanted Jaime to show up today, it was clear now that he wouldn’t have used Jaime’s absence as blackmail against him if he had decided not to show.

Not wanting Bart to feel guilty, Jaime shrugged it off. “No es gran cosa.”

A smile worked its way onto Bart’s mouth. “I have no idea what that means, but I’m guessing by the look on your face, you’re not actually all that bothered by it.”

Jaime sighed. “Well, besides inviting me here so I can tell you how much I hate granting your High School Musical requests every night, what exactly is the reason?”

Bart scoffed. “I can’t believe you had the audacity to say that to my face!” He was trying to deliver the line seriously, but the smile on his lips told Jaime that he wasn’t actually offended.

Jaime shrugged, a small smirk working its way onto his own lips. “What can I say? Disney Channel movies are cheesy, and their sound tracks are even worse.”

Bart chuckled. “Your music is too depressing. You need something more upbeat. Less lyrics about death, sad childhoods, and oppression. ‘We’re All in this Together’, right ah-me-go?”

Jaime cringed, both at Bart’s pronunciation and at the stereotypes. His music was more complex than what Bart was making it out to be. Besides, Jaime wasn’t here to argue anyway. Bart had invited him to this track meeting with ulterior motives, and Jaime was determined to figure out what they were.

“Not all of my music is depressing,” Jaime countered. “Besides, you ignored my question. Surely you had some kind of motive in inviting me here besides to just discuss your terrible music taste. I want to know what it is.” Jaime raised both eyebrows.

An unexpected pink blush rose to Bart’s cheeks, covering up the freckles sprayed like paint across his Caucasian skin. “I wanted you to notice me.” Jaime nearly missed the words, for they came out of Bart’s mouth in a whisper.

“You wanted me to notice you?” He repeated the statement, hoping for a bit of an explanation.

Bart’s blush deepened, skin in competition with his hair for reddest feature. His green eyes were piercing the ground, seemingly in an effort to burn a hole big enough to burry himself in to avoid such embarrassment. His fingers twisted harshly against one another. His whole aura had changed from the confident runner he had been on the track to nervous schoolboy.

“We’re in the same physics class.” Bart’s sneaker kicked up a puff of dirt as he ground his toe into the sand.

Jaime blinked. He’d never seen anyone like Bart in his physics class. Was he that non-observant that he had missed him?

“I-I usually sit behind you.” It sounded like Bart was struggling to admit something difficult. Usually Jaime was the shyer one in conversations, so he completely understood what it felt like having to lead a difficult conversation. But he wanted to get to the bottom of this. Bart was on the edge of a confession, and Jaime had to know what it was.

“I noticed how a-attractive—” Bart’s blush deepened yet again— “you were pretty much as soon as I laid eyes on you. I-I wanted to get to know you better, so I asked around a little. Turns out Cassie’s a mutual friend of ours. She told me a little bit about you, from working with you at the radio station, and I did a little bit of research on my own. I looked you up on the school website. I started calling in to your station. I kept asking Cassie if she could find out more about you for me. Your favorite color, food, movie... Any hobbies, or things you like. I started piecing together this picture of you in my mind, using our conversations on the phone to confirm or deny my theories about you. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was desperate for you to notice me, so I started dropping hints on the phone, hoping you would take an interest. But you didn’t. And I-I can understand if-if you don’t feel the same way but IthinkIaccidentlyfellinlovewithyou.”

Jaime blinked hard. “¿Qué?” That last bit had left Bart’s mouth in an unintelligible jumble of sounds. Had Bart just admitted he was in love with him?

When Jaime snapped out of his confusion and looked back at Bart, he saw that the track star was struggling to hold back tears. A salty droplet fell from his chin and landed on the ground between them, creating a dark spot in the dirt. His shoulders were trembling with the effort to not let out a cry.

Guilt settled hard in Jaime’s stomach, like a boulder being dropped into a lake. The aftershocks were still rippling through his system. The pieces were slowly coming together.

Bart was in love with him, and wanted the feeling to be mutual. He had called in to Jaime’s radio station, hoping that he could get Jaime to take an interest in him. He wanted Jaime to pursue him, that way he would know for sure that Jaime felt the same way. And Jaime had taken an interest; he’d just done a poor job at showing it.

Hesitantly, Jaime reached a hand forward in an effort to get Bart to look up at him. “Por favor, no llores. Lo siento, I-”

Bart took a step back, angrily wiping his tears away with his fists. “No. I-it’s stupid. I built this idea of you up in my head, and it’s probably not who you are at all. I was just desperate and wanted you to like me back. And I know that me calling you every night was probably annoying and that you probably aren’t even into guys-”

Jaime surged forward, grabbing onto the other boy’s bicep with one hand and cupping his cheek with the other, and did something that surprised himself probably even more than it surprised Bart.

Bart froze, teary eyes wide in shock as Jaime’s lips smashed against his own. He was too surprised to react.

As soon as Jaime realized what he had done, he pulled back, blushing madly. Despite his embarrassment however, he couldn’t help the truth that fell from his lips.

“I am.” When Bart still looked confused, Jaime rushed to clarify. “Into guys. Into... you. I’m bisexual.” He raised a hand to nervously rub at the short raven hairs along the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly.

Bart seemed to snap out of his stupor. “You’re into me? I didn’t think you were interested. I thought you only came today because I was blackmailing you.”

Jaime’s awkward laugh turned amused. “If you think I showed up today because of your so-called ‘blackmail’, you need a new definition for the word.” He moved his hand from his neck, slipping it into his pocket to pull out his notebook. Jaime flipped it to the page where he had taken down all of the little clues Bart had given to him over the phone and turned the book around to show it to the track star. Bart’s green eyes widened slowly as he read over all of Jaime’s scrupulously written notes.

“I wrote down everything you told me about yourself.”

Bart’s gaze slowly ascended from the page, an awed look in his eyes. Hastily, Jaime closed the notebook and placed it back in his pocket. He shifted his weight from foot to foot in consideration before finally saying, “I’d like a chance to get to know you. I want to give us—” Jaime used a finger to gesture between himself and Bart— “a chance. If that’s... crash?” He tested out the word he’d heard Bart use during a few of their phone calls.

The redhead’s face lit up like a child’s after receiving a piece of candy. “Yeah! That’s totally crash! When are you free?”

“Uh-” Jaime pulled out his phone to check his calendar, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

“Time to get this show on the road, Kiddos.” When Jaime looked up to see who the hand belonged to, he saw Bart’s father standing between them, his other hand grasping onto his son’s shoulder. “Who knows what you two would get up to if Mel and I left you alone any longer.” Don playfully shook his head, before turning the eyes Bart had inherited from him on his son. “Your mother and I were college sweethearts, too. We know what kind of things kids your age get up to.”

Both Bart and Jaime blushed at the implications.

“Dad!” Bart groaned in embarrassment.

Don chuckled, as if it were all in a day’s work embarrassing his son. He turned to Jaime. “We usually go out as a family after track meets to celebrate. Everyone’ll be there. It’s a good opportunity for Bart to introduce you to the family. If you’re up for going, Jaime?”

The raven-haired student shared a look with his boyfriend? friend? person-he-thought-was-very-attractive-but-wanted-to-get-to-know-a-little-better-before-dating? Bart shrugged.

Jaime felt put on the spot. He and Bart had just discussed the possibility of beginning a relationship, and now he was supposed to meet the ‘rents? Not that he hadn’t already, but that was beside the point. Going out for a meal with Bart’s parents, grandparents, cousin and who-knows-who-else, and having to pretend that he’s madly in love with someone he was just meeting for the first time today? This had the potential to kill any chances he and Bart had at actually beginning a real relationship.

“I’m sorry, I already have plans,” was what Jaime wanted to say. Instead, he said, “Sure. I’d love to get to meet your family, Cariño.”

“Good evening, Tigers! You’re listening to Houston U’s nightly segment. I’m your host, Jaime Reyes-”

“-and his amazing boyfriend, Bart Allen-”

Jaime had to stifle an ‘oomph!’ as his boyfriend of three glorious months slung an arm around his neck and plopped down on his lap, leaning in close to the microphone so that he could be heard, too.

“-Next up we have ‘Flourescent Adolescence’ by Arctic Monkeys-”

“-And after that, ‘I Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’ from High School Musical!” Bart slammed a finger into the ‘play’ button, starting the next song in the queue, before swinging his leg around so he could straddle Jaime’s lap and drag him into a kiss.

When they pulled apart, Jaime had a pout on his lips. “Who let you in here?” Bart wasn’t supposed to be in the studio, especially when Jaime was live on the air.

The younger smirked deviously. “Cassie might have loned me her key so that I could pay my boyfriend a visit while he was working...”

Jaime shook his head. “Of course she did.”

Bart booped his nose with a fingertip. “Don’t act so put out. You know you looooove me.”

Jaime shook his head, trying to keep a poker face. “Nope. You just tainted my reputation by saying that we’re gonna play High School Musical songs voluntarily. How could I love someone who would pull such a slanderous act against me?”

Bart poked his nose again. “You looooove me.”

Jaime shook his head. His lips threatened to quirk up into a smile. His poker face was cracking. “Nope.”

Bart hovered his lips dangerously close to Jaime’s own. “Admit it, Babe. You love me more than anyone in the world.”

Jaime’s mask crumbled. “Yeah,” he finally admitted. “Te amo con todo mi corazón.” He pulled Bart that little inch forward to kiss him again.

Unfortunately the phone cut their loving moment shorter than either boy wanted. Jaime picked it up.

“Hello, fellow Tiger! You’re on-air with Houston U’s nightly segment. Care to introduce yourself to all the listeners out there?”

“Yeah, Jaime, it’s Gar. I’m glad to hear that you finally found yourself a good partner, but next time you might want to make sure your mic is off before making any declarations of love while you’re live.”

Crimson bloomed to life across the entirety of his face while Gar hung up on the other end of the line. Immediately, the radio host leaned forward and flicked off the switch to his microphone. Jaime buried his face in his hands.

“I hate you!” He directed at Bart in an embarrassed moan.

Bart chuckled. “Nah. You looooove me.”

Here it finally is @purple--waffles! I’m so sorry it took me so long! I’ve been slowly working on it since the day your request arrived in my asks. Life is crazy, and I haven’t had a whole lot of time to write recently, but I really wanted to finish this for you. My mind ran with the prompt, and even though it took me awhile, hopefully the length makes up for it??? Maybe? Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

#young justice #yj #bart allen #jaime reyes #kid flash #impulse #blue beetle #bluepulse #asks #answers #writing requests #sorry this took me a little while to finish

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stilesxeveryone · 3 years

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The Rewatch

Okay, so my opinions are a little unnecessary and all over the place and silly, but I thought it’d be fun to just write down my thoughts as I go through the episodes of Teen Wolf. I figured that I’d do about half a season in each post rather than a post for each episode, just to keep it all a little more short and put together. And I’ll put a cut before episode 2 to make it look a little nicer as well.

Season 1, episode 1

Oh god, here we go again

Why in the world was Stiles on Scott’s roof, how the fuck did he hang facing Scott (like what are his legs doing??), and how did he jump down so smoothly

AU where Scott also gets caught in the woods while searching for the body, so he doesn’t get bitten? What if Sheriff Stilinski got bit instead, imagine how different the story would be

Apparently wolves were in fact removed from California in the early 1900s, and packs have only very recently been spotted moving into the area in the last few years, so Stiles is right

Scott being a werewolf for all of one minute (and not even knowing it yet) but immediately being able to zero in on every conversation Allison has

Lydia’s outfits are so cute 🥺🥺🥺

Derek looks so scruffy first episode! Compared to how I remember him, he looks so much younger here, especially with his oversized jacket

Again, Scott is weirdly good with his powers in the first episode, like he doesn’t even know he’s a werewolf or anything but somehow he knows how to calm down the scared dog?

Derek is literally so horrible at reassuring a new werewolf oh my god. “The bite is a gift.” “We’re brothers now.” Yes thank you for this information, but what about the important stuff? And Scott clearly says that he thinks Derek bit him, and Derek says nothing of it

Season 1, episode 2

Derek being terrible continues. Listen, I understand that he’s never done this before, but please, threatening to kill someone is not the way you teach them to control their anger

I need so much more Allison and Stiles being best friends/siblings content tbh

I feel like it’s pretty unlikely that Stiles “listens to every police call, follows every case” Stilinski would go out and dig up the body, because that’s definitely the kind of tampering with evidence that wouldn’t be helpful in court

Please the green screen is so bad

Oh god no it’s Scott stalking Allison time

Scott’s priorities are just a little messed up,, like it’s very concerning that he decided being good at lacrosse and impressing Allison was more important than not killing someone or getting himself killed, and like it’s clearly not arrogance that he’ll be fine since he was anxious about something going wrong

Season 1, episode 3

Stiles wanting to know if Danny and gay guys in general could be attracted to him is indeed my favourite thing

Oh jeez, I forgot about Lydia’s whole ‘pretending to be dumb’ thing, I’m so proud of her for developing past that, I really need to write her more often

I genuinely missed being able to see Chris Argent every episode, but also oh boy I can’t wait to see him in later seasons just bc he looks so much better later on tbh

I will never get over how much I hate the werewolf designs, like how they look when they shift,, they’re just- there’s nothing good about them at all

Season 1, episode 4

So Scott is aware of two werewolves in town, Derek and the alpha, but when he hears Kate say that she shot one of two werewolves and that he has 48 hours, he isn’t at all worried that “oh shit Derek might be dying?”

They talk so loudly in public areas about everything that happens and it is so incredibly concerning. There’s no way other kids in school aren’t hearing them

“Why should I help you?” maybe because he’ll die if you don’t, Scott? What kind of question is that?? I know we’re all irked by that moment a lot but god we deserve to be irked by it

Fun little detail, the Argent gun business is called “Argent Arms International”

Kate constantly mentioning Scott being “adorable” or his “adorable brown eyes” any chance she can get is literally so gross and concerning (spoilers, but especially considering her history with Derek)

And of course we all know how we feel about Scott suggesting that the Argents could have had a reason for mass murdering Derek’s family

Season 1, episode 5

Does Jackson only watch sports videos? Like first he watches lacrosse games and now he wants to watch a basketball movie (also I just wanna mention that Jackson’s actor, Colton Haynes, is literally so pretty, his freckles 🥺)

I love the dynamic of Stiles and his dad’s relationship so muchhh, I’m really glad we do get to explore their relationship and what happened with Stiles’ mum in later episodes

Whole lotta trauma gets brought up in this episode, from Jackson, Lydia and Derek and I feel so bad for them tbh

I really like how the parent teacher conference goes, like it’s very much exposition about how Jackson is adopted, Lydia’s parents are divorced, Stiles’ mum is no longer in the picture, Scott’s parents are divorced and his dad isn’t around anymore either. But I think it’s a good way to use exposition and make it in character and show what the kids are dealing with

I know the CGI isn’t always that great in this show but that dying mountain lion literally looks like an old, stuffed, toy cat that someone animated with photoshop warp tools and it’s a tragedy

Season 1, episode 6

I honestly wish they had more of Scott struggling with being a werewolf? Obviously they show his troubles with aggression and handling full moons, but not much about anything else

Like it would have been really cool to see him struggle more with sensory overload since everything would be heightened, or seeing him struggle more with new instincts?

Also very much could use less of Scott/Allison make out sessions, I don’t need fifty shots of Scott’s abs okay

I love that Stiles just goes “I’m gonna teach you how to be a werewolf before Derek fails to”

“She makes me weak” shut the fuck up, in what universe does loving someone (or at least in this case crushing) make you weak??? The person I love has only ever made me better, and I think I make him better too

Scott’s (Tyler Posey’s) acting… there’s a lot to work on and that gets more obvious the longer I watch this

Doesn’t it later turn out that Deaton was literally the emissary of the Hale pack? So like really close to them (at least the alpha) and meant to help them out? But in this episode he straight up gives Derek nothing and Derek suspects him to be the big bad alpha? I mean obviously it’s just writing inconsistency, although I know fanon often translates it as Deaton being the most secretive and unhelpful bitch in the west. But also what if Deaton just straight up lied about being their emissary? I think that would be an interesting take

#teen wolf #alex rewatches teen wolf #the rewatch #honestly not much else to say #block those tags if you dont wanna see my thoughts all the time i guess

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Kids Have Terrible Timing (Biadore) - Sarcastacnt

Summary; One of Roy and Danny’s two daughters has a tendency to get over excited at the smallest things and at the worst possible time for her fathers.

“We can always return her right?”

“See, this is what happens when we trust your genes. Let’s take a second to notice how the spawn with my genes is basically a Saint compared to her sister.”

Danny pulled a face and whacked Roy with a pillow. “Not what you said when she ruin, how many of your gowns was it again? 9?”

“It was 15 and you know it.” Roy grumbled still puzzled at how the then five year old Sabrina had gotten a hold of the gowns, let alone figured out how to work his sewing machine. Something that still eluded Danny.

“Let’s just agree that they’re both evil in their own special ways.” Danny offered, trying desperately not to laugh at the pained expression on Roy’s face.

Roy snorted, “Not much longer until they go through puberty. That’s when we cash in all those offers to babysit from Shane.”

Danny groaned and flopped down dramatically against the bed. “Two teenage girls in one house. What the fuck were we thinking?”

Roy shrugged, “Probably that at least one of them would be a boy.”

Danny laughed, “At least then they wouldn’t bug to borrow our drag. Well, your drag.”

Roy laughed at the memory of the two dark haired girls gasping in disbelief at the room full of princess gowns and lumberjack clothing. “Still can’t believe how good that read was, fucking lumberjack.” He was still snickering when Danny decided he was no longer comfortable laying on the bed.

With a surge of power from his left leg he moved to straddle Roy’s hips. “You’re the one who married a lumberjack Haylock.”

Roy automatically dropped his hands to rest on Danny’s thighs. “You married a princess, least I’m still gay in this version of reality.”

Danny snorted, “Whatever, that makes you a princess, least I’m still a man.” He leaned forward and licked Roy’s neck before whispering in his ear. “Although every single time I’ve fucked you while you were dressed as a princess was hot as hell. You really should let me fuck you in drag more often.”

Roy let out a groan as Danny squirmed on his lap. “Why would I put a bunch of clothes on for sex? Doesn’t being naked make everyone’s lives easier?”

Danny began kissing Roy’s jaw, taking a familiar path down to the collar of Roy’s shirt. “I meant when we preform asshole.” He said as he started to work the buttons of Roy’s shirt open.

Roy rolled his eyes, “Because normally after we preform you’re so fucking horny that you beg to get fucked.” Roy brought both hands crashing down on Danny’s ass, “Remember?”

Danny started to kiss his way down Roy’s chest now that the button down was pushed open. “Fuck yeah I do.” He looked up at Roy, eyes gone a little glassy with arousal. “Speaking of which, it’s been quiet for almost an hour. We should probably take advantage while we can.”

Roy chuckled and began to tug at Danny’s shirt. “You’re absolutely right.” When Danny didn’t move to remove his shirt quick enough, Roy rolled them so he was on top. He quickly pulled off the light sleep pants Danny wore and began stroking the already half hard cock. “Doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?” he teased before taking Danny’s erection into his mouth.

“Never has.” Danny admitted before groaning at the very talented tongue that was quickly turning his brain to mush.

Roy held out his hand, without stopping the blow job and Danny reached blindly for the small bottle of lube on the nightstand. He pushed it into Roy’s hand before letting his head fall back against the pillows.

Wasting no time, Roy lubed up two fingers and pressed them into Danny. It only took a few thrusts before Danny was demanding that Roy ‘stop fucking around and put your dick in me!’. With such a sweet request, how could Roy refuse? He pushed his own sleep pants down and lubed up his erection before taking a second to tease Danny’s entrance.

“Fuck me Roy!” Danny demanded, his hips lifting off the bed in frustration.

“Fine, but next time we have time I’m gonna make you pay for being an Impatient bitch.” Roy said as he grabbed Danny’s hips and started to push himself inside-

“DADDY!!!”

*CRASH, SLAM, BANG*

Roy didn’t know how he did it but somehow he got both of them covered up under the blanket before 6 year old Stevie managed to scramble up on the bed.

“Stevie remember how we talked about knocking? And you’re not listening to me at all, are you?” Roy sighed as he swung his legs over the far side of the bed and pulled his pants up. Danny had no chance to pull anything on, Stevie was not only on the bed but sitting happily on Danny’s stomach.

“Daddy! I found something cool! You gotta come see this!” the little girl had a big grin on her face as she waved her hands in the air. Stevie’s grin was an exact match for Danny’s (pre lip injections, of course). In fact Stevie was the spitting image of Adore, especially on the odd occasion her fathers put her in make up. Not only was the physical resemblance strong but both Stevie and Danny were two of the loudest people Roy had ever met.

A quiet knock at the open door caught Roy’s attention. He looked up to see blue eyed eight year old Sabrina shaking her head in exasperation. “Sorry dad, I tried to remind her to knock but…” she trailed off with a shrug, gesturing to the excited noises coming from the bed as Stevie and Danny talked about something Roy couldn’t quite catch.

Roy chuckled, “It’s okay, I understand my love. What were you two doing anyways? I thought we said goodnight an hour ago.”

Sabrina walked around the bed, giving it a wide berth. She had walked too close to the bed once during a similar situation just in time for Stevie to launch herself off the bed (much to her fathers horror) and land on not only her feet but her sister’s as well. “I showed her a book.”

Roy ached an eyebrow, “Why is she so excited about a book.”

Sabrina made a huffing noise as she crawled up on the bed to sit next to Roy. “There were no pictures in it.”

“You’re telling me your sister is losing her mind over a book, without pictures?” Roy could feel his eye start twitching.

Sabrina nodded, “Are you sure she’s really my sister?” she eyed Roy suspiciously.

Roy sighed, they had this conversation every few weeks. “Yes Rini, you both have the same mother, remember?” Roy remembered the initial thrill when they discovered that the surrogate they had used for Sabrina was more then happy to take on another pregnancy for the pair when they decided to expand their family a year and a half later.

“Are you really sure? Did you check?” Sabrina grilled her father as she watched Stevie and Danny (who had managed to pull pants on while he was distracted with Sabrina) rush out of the room to get a look at this ‘amazing book’ that Stevie had discovered.

“Yes Rini I’m a hundred percent sure she’s your sister. Besides she acts just like Dad, doesn’t she? I promise she’s part of this family.”

Sabrina frowned, “Whatever. I’m gonna go make sure they don’t break my stuff.” She hopped off the bed, her long twin braids floating behind her as she stormed off after them.

Roy fell back into bed and began laughing uncontrollably. He had no idea which part of the last five minutes he found so funny. The interrupted sex, Stevie’s excitement over a book without pictures or Sabrina’s continued irritation that her sister was insane.

Tears were streaming down his face, high pitched giggles still escaping him and abdominal muscles cramping when Danny returned.

“She’s nuts.” Danny proclaimed as he flopped down next to Roy.

A minute later, Roy managed to get his laughter under control. “Was she really that excited over a book with no pictures?”

Danny nodded, eyes wide in disbelief. “War and Peace! I didn’t know books could get that big! That shit’s more complicated then anything I ever read!”

Roy nodded, “Katya was reading it last time her and Trixie were over with their hellspawns. She probably forgot it here.” They almost always used drag names when referring to Brian and Brian just to save themselves the confusion.

Danny snorted, “Least we had time to breathe between kids. I don’t know how they managed 3 at once! Like who even has triplets?”

“Trixie and Katya do, poor bastards. If two teenage girls seems like a nightmare waiting to happen, imagine three hormonal teenage boys. The structural damage alone may just bankrupt them! If those two weren’t bald already that’s what would finally do it. Trying to figure out how much to add to the budget for household repairs every week.” Roy mused, choosing to ignore the fact that while he and Danny did in fact have one less kid, one of said kids shared genetic material with Danny. Roy hoped, not for the first time that Stevie calmed down as she got older. Last thing he needed was one of his daughters proudly proclaiming to be a ‘messy slut’. The thought of the generally sweet (if loud) Stevie strutting around in a mini skirt and low cut shirt made Roy shiver in fear.

“We’re never gonna have sex again, are we?” Danny half heartedly complained, lacing his fingers with Roy’s as they looked at each other with tired smiles on their faces.

Roy released Danny’s hand and rolled so he was on top of his husband. “So dramatic.” Roy teased as he captured Danny’s lips in a breath taking kiss.

It wasn’t long before Danny was a moaning, begging mess under him. Roy sighed in relief as he entered Danny roughly, rather pleased with himself for the broken sound that tore itself from Danny’s lips.

“DADDY!!!!”

“I’m taking her back!” Danny proclaimed loudly as Roy pulled away from him and managed to get their pants back on before Stevie came flying into their room again. This time she was screaming something about the ‘coolest bug ever!

Wasn’t parenting fun?

A/N Thank you to the annon who requested a kid fic where Roy and Danny keep getting interrupted. Swore I’d never write one of these but hey, here we are! I’m also tempted to continue this but for the moment it stands alone.

The girls names; Stevie is named for Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac fame and Sabrina is name for an alternative name for a boat neck collar. I know nothing about fashion so that’s what a quick Google search pulled up.

As for the teasing each other about which kid has which genes, it doesn’t mean they love either kid less then the other. I think most parents like to harass their partner about who is responsible for which less desirable trait their off spring demonstrates. Like when Sarabi says to Mufasa in The Lion King “Before sunrise, he’s your son.”

#rpdr fanfiction #biadore #adore delano #bianca del rio #canon compliant #parenting au #kid fic #married #fluff #almost smut #request fic #sarcastacnt

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okay-victoria · 3 years

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Love of My Second Life: Tanya & Romance

This is both my take on why, despite seeming like the easiest and healthiest relationship to write, TanyaxVisha is up there with TanyaxMary in difficulty level for pulling off successfully, what I’ve seen go wrong in fanfic so far, and what needs to make it/any romance go right.

Where to start, where to start...um, a warning, for obvious reasons I’m going to have to talk about sex.

The Age Difference

This has the joy of being a bit creepy on both ends of the spectrum! Yay.

Visha Being Creepy

Visha is probably 5 - 6 years older than Tanya. While as more mature adults that age difference is relatively negligible, Tanya being 17/18 and Visha being in her early 20s doesn’t make it suddenly a non-issue. If you and a coworker, both in your first job out of college, went to happy hour and you met his/her significant other and they were a senior in high school, would you feel good about that?

The age-of-consent laws in bygone eras may help your case for why in-story characters give a pass to such things, but it doesn’t really help explain it to your readers. Unless I’m missing something, no one is reading this story from 1920s/30s Germany, and so it needs to have the relationship explained in a way that tries to work for modern standards. Additionally, I think people tend to mix up age-of-consent with “people found this generally appropriate”. A 19 year old dating a 59 year old violates no laws in the United States, but that doesn’t mean that most people are going to consider it a loving and healthy relationship without any proof. Even your in-story characters are probably going to have some thoughts.

The final issue, from Visha’s end of the spectrum, is that even when Tanya is aged up to 18+ and has gained some secondary sexual characteristics, she is sometimes still presented as being an “eternal loli” who can be easily be mistaken for someone around 14/15, an age at which girls normally have some secondary sex characteristics, but distinctly immature ones. I imagine this problem stems from two places:

1) Scenes when Tanya’s lolidom is brought up are not the same scenes as the romantic ones, so the problem is not as obvious to the author and

2) Author forgets that “short+small boobs+doesn’t have wrinkles yet” does not actually result in people looking like they are mid-puberty. Without being really creepy, as women age, their breast tissue drops down and to the side, waist/hip/leg ratios change, and the face loses its baby fat, among other things. Writing that references Tanya as looking like a teen comes along with the unfortunate implication that she actually looks like she is still mid-puberty, and Visha...is into that, instead of being someone who is attracted to petite POST pubescent women.

These are all extremely fixable problems. Really, all an author has to do is make Visha acknowledge that it’s weird, and probably try to talk to Tanya about her reservations before she starts trying to seduce her. It’s the handwave that is the issue. For the last/puberty problem, unless there is some reason I probably don’t want to know about that the author only wants to write the relationship if Tanya looks 14, simply describe her as a petite but adult woman, and if you need to use her looking young as a plot point, have her make an effort to adapt her adult characteristics to suit or hope that nobody looks hard enough to tell the difference.

Tanya Being Creepy

While Tanya is physically the junior member of the relationship, mentally, she is the senior, and by a lot. Tanya knows this. While I don’t necessarily think Salaryman is the Earth’s most morally-pure man, I have a high enough opinion of him to think that he was not pursuing college girls when he was like 35. Tanya should also have a moment of thought over this, or the relationship needs to wait until Visha is closer to her late 20s, when she is approaching a similar level of life maturity that Salaryman would have felt was close to his own.

Even if you think that Salaryman’s logical side would have been eroded by his “but I’m a guy, I can’t help it, college girls are hot” side [I’m side-eyeing you], I think it’s very unlikely that living as Tanya, and being on the receiving end of that kind of stuff, wouldn’t make her reconsider her stance on it, at least a little.

I know, I know, Visha’s been to war! She’s not the same as some random college girl in 2020! While this is allowable as a partial justification, because it is true, it ignores a whole lot.

First off, maturity is not a straightforward drive. All parts of you do not mentally mature at the same time. If you want to write early 20s Visha as a mature-enough partner for Tanya, a bit of time needs to be spent on what Visha loses because of it - she never has, and never will, get to be that happy-go-lucky girl. While making fun of young women for being dramatic gossips, obsessing about non-serious things, etc remains a popular sport, thinking that you are doing Visha a favor by taking that time of her life away from her says pretty terrible things about how society values women’s relationships with each other. If you don’t mean for your fanfic to accidentally imply that, it’s something that needs some love & care.

Alternatively, you could write a story in which Visha, while being a competent adult, still gets space to explore her “girly” side. If doing so, you are going to have to make a really strong case for why Tanya is willing to put up with this, as Salaryman does not come off as someone who would judge it a good use of time & effort to be constantly letting his girlfriend rattle off about things he thinks are silly and immature - there’s a lot of other fish in the sea, why not find one that is a competent adult *and* isn’t often talking about things you don’t care about.

The Canonical Setup of Visha & Tanya’s relationship

Opposite Goals

In a nutshell, Tanya is presented as a person that wants to live a safe, boring, and non-notable life, is doing her best to get there, and is constantly failing and being stressed about it because she needs to figure out a new plan. Visha is presented as someone who has major qualms about Tanya as a human being, but has a nigh-worshipful respect for her heroic officer side.

This is a massive, and I mean MASSIVE problem. You absolutely cannot ignore that what makes the characters happy is diametrically opposed to each other. Can you overcome it? Yes, by slowly developing the characters towards a compromise, but you can’t just not acknowledge it and expect me to think this relationship has any hope of leaving both partners happy. Either Tanya never escapes her never-ending stress cycle, or she does, and the entire basis of Visha’s attachment to Tanya disappears.

This can be fixed by: 1) Tanya coming to terms with a new side of herself, one that wants to be that hero. This cannot just be a one-paragraph epiphany. Tanya is shown to hate when she thinks her internal self is being changed by her new experiences and she needs a lot of work to get to a point where she is willing to acknowledge this in herself.

2) Visha has to go through a rocky part where she second-guesses herself - she thought she wanted Tanya, but turns out, Tanya isn’t the person she thought she is? How and why does she decide that she likes the person Tanya has become? This is probably the easier route, but I think runs the risk of having an author have Visha *say* Tanya does all these other good things for her, but never really show it happening.

3) The happiest medium is probably one where Visha *mostly* adapts towards Tanya, so Tanya gets to live a quiet but not too quiet life, and Visha learns to love another side. As Visha is compromising more in this sense, a healthy relationship is going to include Tanya realizing what is happening and deciding to make an effort to appeal to Visha and not just be like “Take me as I am. Or don’t.” and Visha unilaterally decides to accept that.

Why Does Tanya want to be in a relationship with Visha?

Tanya betrays no actual emotional attachment to Visha in the light novels. While you can read in rationalization to the reasons Tanya gives to her actions, she herself does not believe that it is because of an emotional connection.

Canonically, Tanya is portrayed as liking Visha because of how well Visha passes the “usefulness” test. This brings up another MASSIVE problem - does Tanya, in any way, shape, or form, actually like Visha as an individual, or just her ability to conform to the role Tanya wants her to play?

Look, I don’t need Tanya to be in LOVE with Visha in the way we usually talk about people being in love to believe that Tanya can be in a relationship successfully. I’m fully on board with a portrayal in which Tanya can’t quite summon that level of emotion. However, she needs to like and respect Visha as an individual person, and summon a level of emotion beyond friend with benefits.

IMO, it is really hard to do that without showing Tanya and Visha disagreeing on a major piece of Tanya’s philosophy and Tanya actually listening and responding positively to it, not simply agreeing to disagree because it isn’t worth upsetting her useful sidekick, or whatever. There needs to be character development of both characters - Visha finding it in herself to be comfortable rocking the boat, and Tanya having a compelling enough reason to change something that she has clung to for two lives.

Everyone wants to be a lesbian

While I get it, the Empire is not the exact same as Germany, and yes, I know that Weimar Germany was relatively sexually progressive, it’s really not something that a well-written romance should handwave.

“Weimar Culture” in many ways developed as a result of how WW1 went for Germany. If you have a story where WW1 doesn’t go that way for Germany, gay culture is unlikely to flourish to the same degree.

All that aside, Tanya isn’t someone that is going to easily shrug her shoulders and say “you know, sometimes you need to jeopardize your career for the sake of hot sex/love”. She’s pretty clear on which she prioritizes. A lesbian relationship is not going to help her here, and she’s going to be aware of it. She needs to struggle with that choice.

Visha not struggling to accept herself as a lesbian is also somewhat of an oversight. It’s pretty unlikely that a woman born in her time period would come to terms with that easily. Visha is also never shown being attracted to other women besides Tanya, which carries a weird “I’m only a lesbian for you” vibe that is like a gross parallel of a straight guy wanting a lesbian to be so attracted to him she can’t help it, she wants the D.

And now, we enter the realm of Tanya’s relationship with her identity and sexuality.

Tanya is shown to have mental qualms both about entering a straight or lesbian relationship in her new life. The reasons behind those qualms are not explored at all in the LN, but they should be in a story in which Tanya goes into a relationship.

No matter which path puberty takes her down, there is the issue of Tanya being comfortable having sex as a woman. Even if it is with another woman, it is not going to be particular similar to the way she had sex with women as a man. That type of thing is pretty tied up with our identity. Tanya hates having her internal, I haven’t changed identity threatened, and not being able to give sexual pleasure/needing to receive it differently is the type of thing that is probably going to come along with some emotional reservations on her part.

Again, sexual identity being a part of our overall identity, while Tanya may remain attracted to women, that means her identity is now as a gay person, not a straight person. Given her biases from both growing up in Japan and the state of gay rights in her new life, it would seem atypical that she would consider this a non-issue and it wouldn’t make her question her priorities or the type of person she thought she was.

But...The Sex?

Look, I get it, sometimes you wanna see certain characters bang. We’ve all been there.

While yes, I recognize that many humans make terrible decisions solely in pursuit of sex, and so it’s perfectly realistic to have Tanya and Visha do the same and say that’s why you’re handwaving everything else, it is an extremely lazy storytelling technique, especially since neither character seems likely to go to extremes for it.

Because people focus so much on sex appeal, unfortunately, they use it as a substitute for making a good case for the relationship. Visha/Tanya is so attracted to Tanya/Visha, that now they are willing to undergo character development, because the pulsing loins urge them to. Really?

Do at least some of it first, lay the groundwork for romantic attraction before you slam them with physical attraction. While it often works the opposite direction in real life, that undercuts the romantic side in fictional story-telling.

I also think that because of the focus on their attraction to each other, what ends up missing in all TanyaxVisha fanfics I’ve seen so far is the tension. That makes it boring, I don’t care about it, and the entire reason I don’t care about it is because the choice to handwave the inconvenient facts means there is nothing in the way besides Tanya being a dumbass, which you can only do for so long without it becoming boring.

They are both attracted to each other, and admit it to themselves. Neither sees any real problem with the relationship other than not knowing if the other person likes them, but they aren’t even hung up on it and mostly work on straightforwardly winning the other person.

When in doubt, blame it on The Patriarchy

As far as we know, Tanya isn’t pining for relationship, and never thinks about a romantic relationship from her old life. Combined with other things Tanya says, it is hard to imagine Salaryman ever had a “considering marriage” relationship - more like, he may have felt partnership had some desirable aspects, but probably never was able to compromise on his kind of extreme worldview enough to try to make it work with someone, just figuring he’d find “the one” one day that wasn’t going to make him compromise.

While of course, you should not need to change everything about who you are for a romantic partner to like you, saying “you should like me for me” and then putting in exactly zero effort to do things because you know they are important to your partner, even if they aren’t for you, is not one of the keys to a successful relationship.

While it is not a problem inherent to Tanya & Visha’s relationship like the above sections, it is a problem in all forms of how I’ve seen the relationship written. It fails to answer a fundamental question: WHAT CHANGED?

Why did Tanya want love/a relationship/a wife in this life, and not in her last? If she did want it in her last life, why did she successfully find love/a relationship/a wife in this life, and not in her last?

Unfortunately, skipping the answer to this question implies that nothing changed. The success is then entirely reliant and Visha, and that brings along with it a really ugly answer.

Visha’s professional I’ll-do-anything-for-you is equated to a personal I’ll-do-anything-for-you, and she very much accepts Tanya for who she is, through all the flaws that are definitely there and that presumably no woman in Salaryman’s life was willing to put up with. Tanya doesn’t have to undergo any character development to be capable of making the relationship work.

This has some really, really unfortunate undertones. It is the very reason why even legal-but-large age difference relationships often aren’t healthy, because the older partner, instead of trying to be someone capable of contributing to the life of someone their own age, decides it’s easier to find someone younger who doesn’t know better and is more willing to put up with their bullshit. That, then, turns into a creepy grooming undertone - you make the less experienced partner think this is normal.

It really isn’t normal or good that Visha should have to put up with a relationship in which she never discovers who she wants to be because she’s so caught up Tanya’s idea of how to live your life. That is borderline emotional abuse, I am sure no one intends it to be there, but without giving some serious treatment to character development, unfortunately, it is.

To me, this has some of the worst overtones of the worst types of male fantasy - My Manic Pixie Dream Girl is completely devoted to me, and instead of emotionally adding to her life and/or our relationship, she is completely fine with me substituting being a Strong Heroic Man who occasionally buys her Nice Things. She demands I change nothing of myself and completely agrees with my Logical Man worldview, no matter what she needs to change about herself to get there. She’s hot, and I get to simultaneously be a straight man and have hot lesbian sex. Even better, because she’s a “strong” woman who is capable in her own right, not only am I physically satisfied, but I get the ego boost of “earning” the submission and subordination of a woman who is better than most people, because she knows I’m better than her.

Honestly, the more I think about it, the grosser it gets, so as far as fanfic goes I just try to ignore it and understand that the authors intention wasn’t to bring along all this baggage. However, to truly write a good Tanya x Visha story that gets away from all these unfortunate implications is a big undertaking, and it’s really impossible for it to make for a compelling side-plot that doesn’t get much screentime.

I’m generally fine with handwaving issues for sideplots, but if Tanya is making decisions because of her relationship with Visha that are now affecting the main plot, it really isn’t something that *should* be handwaved.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

#OpEd

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soft-kisss · 3 years

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Okay @sapper-in-the-wire tagged me in the seven comfort movies but I’m doing ten because I love them all. You can just stop looking after seven. Also! I’m doing this on mobile. So please forgive how weirdly this might be formatted. Also these are NOT in order.

I tag @gabrielgirl @lafortis @mysteriousjarofpickledgoods and I can’t remember the others so I’ll tag them in a reblog

1. Big Fish:

Oh my god, a film after my heart. The story sequence with them breaking out of the hospital makes me cry every time. I too would like to be lowered slowly into a lake when I’m old. A lovely blend between fantasy and reality, fact and fiction. This movie feels like coming home. So many small stories woven into one. Seeing this at a young age definitely made me love Cloud Atlas when I got older.

2. The Village:

Listen. Your options on Shyamalan are your own. But this film is spectacular. The whole thing feels like a tense wire walk. Absolutely white knuckled it through this. The cast out performs my wildest dreams. Definitely has the Shyamalan twist but also doesn’t spin out of control. Instead yoy get a haunting, yet contained film. This one makes me feel like I’m in a haunted house. I used to watch this with my mum when she was an English teacher and she would talk me though all the symbolism and motifs and I just. Fell in love. Helped start my love of movies, and a big part of me doing my literature undergrad.

3. Annihilation:

Jeff Vandermeer owns my ass. My obsession with his books spills into my film choices. So many little Easter eggs to notice after rewatching again and again. Utterly fucking HAUNTING. I can’t comment too much without ruining the movie. The Bear is a joint first for my favorite monster building creation. And for once I don’t absolutely hate the amount of CGI? It actually blends in beautifully. Watch this and then tell me when you get the song out of your head, because I haven’t figured it out yet.

4. The Ritual

If I did have to rank these, this might take first place. I’m a huge horror fan so that spills over a lot into my comfort movies because I love how horror can take you out of your own head and haunt you four hours afterwards. This film creeps through the haunted house in my mind. It drags its dirty hands over my walls. It’s in the foundations. I am. Obsessed. This is the other best monster I’ve seen, tied with the Annihilation Bear. Beautifully made, superb wide shots that strum out tight tension from the opening shot to the credits. Please watch.

5. Sleepy Hollow

Okay now I’m really thinking about COMFORT. I would do terrible terrible things to own these dresses. Depp is irreplaceable as always. Burton had such a strong hold on my heart when I was coming into myself and I haven’t been able to shake him. I live firmly in the gothic genre so this movie ticks all my boxes and more. The camera panning up above the witch after she faints in the church? Delicious. And you can never have too much lurid red fake blood. Never.

6. Cloud Atlas

Okay listen. Shut up. I know. I KNOW. What they did with the.,. Makeup,,,,. I advise you read the book first. Definitely a directorial staple, a masterpiece, the forefront of my interests. Five ish different stories in different timelines, all told at once. The gaps between timelines gets shorter and shorter until they’re pressed together like pages of a book. The tempo just gets faster and faster. Also. Halle Berry is white? For a while? Blink and you’ll miss it. Just. There’s some controversy around this one. But I love it.

7. About A Boy

I have daddy issues.

8. Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

This makes me think about my granny and how much I love her. Also all her favorite actors are in this so we watch it together. Personally I have a weak spot for Nighy. Something about his voice is just????? Amazing?? I like how tender this is. Hate the bury your gays part. But you can see it coming from a mile away. This movie will gently tuck you into bed. And make you think that maybe life isn’t actually that short after all? Also we should all take the first opportunity to leg it out of the uk.

9. Hellboy

I had to sneak watch this when I was younger because I want old enough. My thoughts on the sequels and remakes are many, and none of them are particularly kind. I have a crush on everyone in this movie. This movie is why I have a fringe. Fast paced and beautiful. Somehow neatly sidesteps becoming a basic comic movie. Surprisingly touching. Also I haven’t been so grossed out by bug like creatures since The Mummy. Ew.

10. Signs.

Let’s finish strong. The cast puts in WORK here. Absolutely BEAUTIFUL acting. I get slutty for southern gothic, and sci fi. And this movie is BOTH. Truly claustrophobic. Very ambitious. You can feel their world zooming in on you, the walls close in. An eager new face on a haunted house. (This time it’s haunted by aliens.) follow a grief stricken single dad and his brother as an alien invasion closes in on the small farm house they share with two young children. I think daily about the pantry scene. Also the cgi holds up.

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seekingstars · 3 years

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New York - Alex Dimitrov