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donald4spiderman · 3 years

Text

The City

masterlist

Summary: Reader is thinking about moving to California. Spencer’s determined to get her to stay.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Category: Fluff (angst if you squint)

**Inspired by Ben’s poetic confession in Parks and Recreations, S3E14**

Here’s a draft i forgot to post

**not edited yet**

Spencer’s POV

As a profiler, I’ve mastered the observation and analysis of behavior— we all have.

Picking the minds of serial killers is second nature— so why is it so hard for me to figure out why (Y/N) is behaving so strangely?

In the recent months, her witty and charming energy has dwindled into a lethargic imitation. Whether she’d admit it or not— (Y/N) can be extremely enthusiastic about certain things— especially our job.

So, when I watch her drag her feet, inch by inch, into the BAU each morning, It’s hard to contain my concern.

I know Morgan has noticed, and I’m sure everyone else has too. They’re probably just too scared to say anything. (Y/N) doesn’t enjoy people prying into her private life, so we all stay a comfortable distance away.

I watch her a lot... more than I’d like to admit. It’s hard to be unaware of her nervous behaviors— the nail biting, hair twisting, skin picking— I practically have enough data to make a correlation graph. I can tell when she’s upset, and it’s happening more than usual.

(Y/N) has always been kind to me. Even when I was at the peak of my stammering, slicked-back hair phase, she treated me with more respect than I deserved. I can only imagine how awkward I must’ve been (or, still am), and I thank her for not belittling me.

I guess I’m validating the Benjamin Franklin Effect when I say this— but I feel like I owe it to her to ask what’s wrong. Over the years I’ve built up (arguably) the closest friendship with her, so it only makes sense for me to bite the bullet for the team.

It’s partially due to the fact that I’ve developed a slight (if not major) crush over time, but who wouldn’t? A gorgeous, intelligent, quick-witted women is kryptonite for any person. Our conversations are always stimulating, she gives the best advice, and she’s always there to comfort a team member.

So, it pains me to see her struggle through a paperwork day. I wish she would reach out to anyone for help, but it’s not in her nature.

“H-Hi.” I smile as I approach her desk. Her tired eyes look up at me, and she smiles back.

“Hey, Reid. What’s up?

I rub the back of my neck nervously. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Morgan and Emily watching me struggle to form a sentence. They giggle as they watch.

“I-I was... um. D-do you want to get coffee with m-me? Not now! I mean— after work!” Morgan stumbles out of the bullpen, barely containing his laugh. I must sound pathetic.

(Y/N) nods hesitantly, “S-sure. I don’t know why you want to get coffee with me, but I’m free.”

“Really?” My surprise shocks her. “T-that’s gr-great! I can drive you!”

She chuckled, “I think I’d rather drive us. I’m pretty sure you can’t drive a mile without hitting a curb.”

I nod fervently. “Sounds good.”

As I make my way back to my desk, I send a glare in Emily’s direction as she continues to smirk at me.

(Y/N) grabs an empty table in the café, and we sit down, huddling close to our warm drinks. She orders a cinnamon latte, I order a black coffee with an unhealthy amount of sugar.

I place the drinks down. “Did you know that cinnamon is shown to reduce systolic blood pressure. It’s commonly used in South Asia and works by dilating blood vessel.”

She nods, “Surprisingly, I did know that. You’re gonna have to teach me something else, Doc.” I laugh in response, enjoying the relaxation that radiates off of her.

“I feel like we don’t get to, um, t-talk as much as I would like to.” My words get caught in my throat and she gives me a lopsided smile.

“Well, we don’t exactly have the most leisurely job.” She states, sipping her drink.

I bite my lip, she looks down. I convince myself that my mind is playing tricks on me, because there’s no way (Y/N) would glance down to watch me pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I know... but you used to talk more.”

“I’ve been busy lately. Tired too.” She mumbles.

I mean forward slightly, my voice is a hushed whisper. “A-are you... okay?” I’m anticipating an defensive response, but all she does is sigh.

“I’m alright. I just... I’m getting tired of being here— in D.C.”

My eyes widen and my brows knit together. “W-What! Why?”

(Y/N) shrugs, “I don’t know. I just expected to feel... really, really attached to D.C when I first moved here. I love my job, and I love you guys— but nothing’s keeping me here.”

My face drops. My disappointment is adamant because she scrambles to reassure me.

“It’s not that I don’t absolutely love working with you guys. You’re my best friend, Spencer. But... I came to D.C to... I don’t know... settle down.” It comes out as more of a question rather a statement. “It’s sounds weird, right? Me, settling down?” She laughs. “I-I don’t mean a husband and a family necessarily. I moved here because I wanted to belong somewhere.”

“You don’t feel like you belong?”

“I feel... I feel like everything I have right now is temporary. It’s not the feeling I expected to have. I just want to have something permanent in my life for once.”

I remain silent, lacking the proper response.

“Please don’t tell anyone!” She pleaded.

I smile solemnly, “I won’t. I promise.”

In that moment, I make another promise. Not just to (Y/N), but to myself. I’m going to show her how many things she has here for her in D.C.

I’m going to prove how much I believe she belongs.

I started by bringing her coffee each morning— a cinnamon latte from the same café we went to.

The first time she seemed pleasantly surprised. I sped through the doors of the bullpen, my coat and slacks absolutely soaked due to the rainy D.C weather. She giggled at the sight of my hair plastered to my forehead. I was certain that I looked like a wet dog.

“Morning!” I greeted, placing down both cups of coffee on her desk so I could fix my hair. “I-uh-I got you coffee. A cinnamon latte, of course.”

(Y/N) smiles brightly, “You’re the best. Thanks, Reid. I definitely needed this.”

Hotch and Rossi are watching me curiously, pretending not to look up from their files. At this moment, I could care less.

“It’s n-nothing.” Suddenly I’m blushing furiously under the weight of her stare.

“Thanks, again.” She clears her throat, “Y-you’re a really good friend.”

She smiles. And I smile.

In the next three weeks, (Y/N) and I grow closer at a rate faster then ever. I try to do something small for her everyday. Finishing up a file for her; Bringing her coffee or water; Sitting next to her on the jet. It appears to be working— she looks much more relaxed and happy. Her sarcastic humor is back and she engages more with the team.

We’ve decided to hang out after today. I find myself enjoying every minute with her, even if all we do is talk, eat, and walk around aimlessly. I’m sure she’s tired of me, but my infatuation with her only grows.

Tonight, we’re sitting at the park, watching people on their late night jogs, dog walkers, babysitters. We finished eating Indian food at a local restaurant. Turns out we’re both regulars at the same place, it’s a shame we haven’t run into each other.

She’s sitting criss-cross on the bench, her elbow rested on top of her knee. “You know,” She starts, “D.C is pretty great. I don’t think I’ve felt this... content in a while.”

I smile, even if it’s too dark for her to see. “Th-thanks. D.C is a great place, despite averaging 39 inches of rain annually.”

She means her head back against the bench. “I still don’t know. I feel like I’m just waiting for something. I don’t even know what that something is... a sign maybe?”

“A sign?” I laugh.

“Y-yeah... a sign. I’d usually make a pros and cons list and research the differences between the two places but... this decision feels too personal to look at it as just statistics.”

In this very moment, I decide to toss all my concerns, questions, what if’s, into the wind. This is my final move; my last resort; my Hail Mary.

My hands are trembling, and it takes me seconds to force the words out of my throat.

“W-well, besides the higher cost of living and considerably gloomy weather, D.C can be a p-pretty great place to reside. It has a busy political culture and is one of the most diverse states in the country.” I pause for a little longer than necessary.

“But, besides statistics and facts, if w-we look past objectivity, to me: D.C is where my friends are, and my friends are my family. Um... I like The City because it’s home to so many great people. A-and I know it’s hard to see the good in things considering how much violence we see on a daily basis, but certain people make me believe that things aren’t all that bad.”

(Y/N)‘a listening attentively, making me even more nervous than I thought possible. “D.C— The City— is beautiful. It’s charming. It’s a warm, cinnamon latte on a rainy day, o-or a late night walk in the park. To me, it’s home.” I catch her smirking a little bit, and I can only hope that she understands what I’m trying to say.

“Plus, The City is really good at her job. The City’s an excellent profiler. But, the city’s an even better friend, and an even better person. It doesn’t hurt that The City has great hair, and gorgeous eyes, and a perfect smile. And, she does this cute thing where she twists the ends of her hair, even if I keep telling her to stop. The City’s beautiful and definitely out of my league. She probably wants nothing to with me now, but I don’t care. I really like The City. And, even if she doesn’t like me back, she should stay, because there are so many people that like and love The City. ‘Cause who wouldn’t.”

(Y/N) is full on grinning right now, and it’s hard to stay patient when so much is on the line.

“Wow.” She giggles. “You really like The City.”

I chuckled awkwardly, “Y-yeah. I really do.”

“I mean, if you think The City’s so great, maybe I should stay. Plus, I’m sure The City likes you too.”

I feign confusion, “Really? I don’t know... The City can be kind of closed off sometimes.”

“Trust me— The City definitely likes you back. And I don’t think The City appreciates you saying that about her”

“Oh really?” I gasp. “Let’s ask her.”

I turn my head around, then proceed to look back at (Y/N) in the most dramatic fashion.

“Hey.” I laugh.

“Oh, Hi Dr. Reid!” She feigns surprise to match my frivolousness.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, b-but I really like you. And, a little birdy told me that you like me back.”

She laughs heartily, “Well, that little birdy is a pretty reliable source.”

Soon, her head is resting on my shoulder. My body’s stiff and the air is caught in my lungs, but I feel more content than I have in years. Somehow the weather is warmer, and the sun is brighter, and things just seem... better.

“This is a great city.” She mumbles, peering up at me in the most adorable fashion.

“Yeah,” I smile, “It really is.”

“Pawnee’s a really special town, I love living there. And, I look forward to the moments in my day where I get to hang out with the town, and talk to the town about stuff. The town has really nice blonde hair too. And, it’s read a shocking number of political biographies for a town, which I like.” - Ben Wyatt

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #dr reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #sub!spencer #bittersweet #criminal minds x reader #fluff #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader

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leossmoonn · 3 years

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About Time [Klaus Mikaelson] || Part 2

PART ONE masterlist

pairing - klaus mikaelson x fem!vamp!reader

type - angst, fluff

summary - you and klaus are frienemies and realize that you two are in love with each other

warnings - mild language, mild violence, makeout scene

————

*gif isn’t mine*

You kicked down the Salvatore’s door.

“Honey! I’m home!” You shouted and entered the house with your hands on your hips, posing all movie-like.

“I like your dramatics. Nice touch with the pose,” Klaus joked.

“Oh, I know. Thank you,” you looked behind your shoulder and smiled at him.

“I actually think you could’ve done more,” Damon remarked, coming to view in front of you.

“Oh, really? Like what?” You asked, raising your brows.

“An explosion would’ve been more dramatic,” Damon said and glared at you. He then lunged at you, to which you kicked him him the stomach, sending him flying across the room.

“Oh, Damon. When will you learn that it’s bad to fight vampires that are older than you?” You taunted and strutted over to him.

Damon growled at you. While walking over to him, Klaus eyed you up and down. A satisfied smile sat on his face. He was the one who taught you how to fight. He was happy and proud of you. Not to mention, you looked hot as hell, too.

Damon got up and sped over to you, grabbing your neck. He was about to snap it when your pulled out a syringe and stuck it in his neck. You felt his grip loosen up on you.

“Down down, doggie,” you sneered as he fell to the floor.

“Good job,” Klaus smiled.

You looked to him, beginning to feel embarrassed. You forgot he was even there.

“Thank you,” you said sheepishly. “Where is Stefan?” “Right here.” You heard his voice at the top of the stairs. You saw him carrying a regular stake and a white oak stake.

“Ah, I see you’ve brought weapons. Smart,” Klaus said, eyeing the white oak stake.

“Yep, but I won't use them, unless you give me a reason to,” Stefan spoke.

You rolled your eyes. “C’mon, Stefan. Wouldn’t you just love to drive a stake through our hearts? See us die right on your floor, and Klaus burn to ashes? Don’t be so hesitant. Have courage, be brave.”

Stefan glared at you, “No, that’s not me.”

“But it is Ripper Stefan,” you smirked.

“Stop with the games,” Stefan demanded.

“I’ll stop with the games once you give us all the white oak stakes,” you said.

“No,” Stefan shook his head.

“Sorry, Stef, but looks like you chose death,” you shrugged. With that, your fangs and veins came out, and you lunged at him. Stefan aimed the wooden stake at you, which you dodged by an inch.

“Looks you gotta work on your aim,” you smirked. Klaus flew up to Stefan and stuck the syringe in his neck.

“My knight and shining armour,” you smiled, swooning slightly from Klaus’s actions. You would never admit it, but you loved when he helped you and saved you.

“It’s my pleasure, love,” he smiled and picked up the white oak stake that Stefan was carrying. “ Now, let’s go and find the rest of the stakes.”

You nodded, “I’ll search up here, you search downstairs and the basement. I’ll meet you where they have that creepy dungeon.”

Klaus nodded in agreement and sped off. You walked towards one of the bedrooms, hesitantly pushing the door open. You looked around, seeing clothes on the floor, books everywhere, and lots of bourbon bottles.

Must be Damon’s room, you thought.

You walked further into the room, going to the dresser. You quickly dug through the drawers, trying to find a stake. You got to one drawer, which had a bunch of lingerie.

Must be Elena’s. Gross, you grimaced to yourself.

You dug through her laundry, though, and was about to give up when you felt something hard. Your eyes widened and you held the object up. It was, indeed, a white oak stake.

You snickered to yourself, “Not so slick, huh, Damon.”

You put the white oak steak in a pocket on the inside of your jacket. You searched more in Damon’s room, knowing you probably wouldn’t find anything, but you thought just in case. Like you thought, you found nothing, so you went to the next bedroom.

This room looked neat and like a guest bedroom.

“Oh, they probably have the whole stash here,” you remarked to yourself.

You searched the whole room, evidently finding nothing. It wasn’t until you went to the bed, when you finally found two stakes. They were hidden in the pillow cases, under the over-fluffed pillows. You went out of the room and entered the next. You searched this room, which you found to be Stefan’s, and found nothing.

The stake he had in his hand was probably the one from his room.

You decided to go back downstairs and meet with Klaus. You sped down the stairs, but was quickly stopped. An arm went around you and threw you against the wall.

“OW! Good God!” You groaned, your head pounding from the collusion. You looked to see who had thrown you, and found Damon and Stefan stalking towards you.

“I knew I should’ve shot you with a bigger dose,” you said.

“Well, you didn’t, so good job at being a villain,” Stefan smiled.

“You guys are all really bad. After 300 years of this, I thought you’d be good,” Damon snickered.

“I haven’t been a villain all my life. I only started a hundred years ago. So, excuse me if I’m not up to par with Katherine Pierce or Klaus,” you growled.

Stefan and Damon looked at each other, surprised by that information.

“I guess we should let you go since you are a new villain,” Stefan said.

“Yes, that’d be much appreciated,” you groaned, straightening yourself up against the wall.

“Or not,” Damon said. He then ran over to you, ready to knock you out, but you were faster.

“Nice try, but a little knock to the head won’t weaken me,” you smirked. You ran across the room using your vamp speed. You took a part of the stairs off, ripping it into two so you had two stakes.

“I didn't want to kill you, but it looks like I have to. Hope you’ve said goodbyes to your friends. Especially to your play thing, Elena,” you smirked while walking towards them. You threw one of the stakes and it plunged into Damon’s shoulder.

Damon fell to the floor and you hoped that you would have the stake in Stefan’s heart before Damon regained his strength.

You threw your stake at Stefan, getting it stuck right below his heart.

“Damnit!” You exclaimed.

Damon started to get up and he held the bloody stake in his hand. He was about to throw it at you when you heard Klaus’s voice in the hallway.

“You hurt her, and I will kill everyone you have every loved,” Klaus threatened.

Damon looked at Klaus. “I’ll kill you first.”

“Damon! Elena loves you. Think about her. Don’t kill us because of her,” you pleaded with Damon. You were embarrassed to be begging for your life, but you had no stakes with you and no more shots.

Damon thought for a moment, realizing that you were right.

“Good thing she doesn’t love me anymore,” Stefan got up and held the stake high in his hand. He aimed it at Klaus.

He threw the stake and you saw that it was a perfect shot at Klaus’s heart.

“NO!” You screamed and ran in front of him. The stake pierced just to the right of your heart. You gasped, gripping the stake. You fell to the floor, trying to get it out.

Klaus looked at Stefan and Damon, and back at you. He picked you up and cradled you to his chest.

“I’ll call off Rebekah and she’ll let Elena go if you let me go and help Y/n,” Klaus said.

“How do we know you will call Rebekah off?” Stefan asked.

“You have my word. Now, please, can we go?” Klaus asked.

Damon smirked, “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am. I believe that she’s the love of my life. Now, can we go? Please? She could die if the stake moves to her heart. I-I can’t lose her.”

Stefan nodded. “Go, go. Don’t forget to call off Rebekah.”

“I won’t. Thank you,” Klaus said. He ran out of the house and ran straight back to his house. While doing so, he called Rebekah, telling her to let Elena go and come and help him.

You were going in-and-out of consciousness. You look up through hooded eyes and saw Klaus crying.

“N-Nik?” You asked, your voice weak and hoarse.

Y/n? It’s okay, we’ll get the stake out of you. I promise,” he looked at you. He then turned his head upwards. “Rebekah!”

You heard heels clicking and rushing towards you.You moved your head to see Rebekah shuffling towards you.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find A positive, but I finally did. Go ahead and lay her on the floor, and take the stake out,” Rebekah said.

You felt the cold, hardwood floor on your burning skin. You groaned and turned your head, seeing Klaus with his hands over your chest. He looked at you with fear in his eyes. It was the first time you ever saw him afraid of something.

You felt the stake shift inside of you and you screamed.

“Y/n, it’s okay. I’ll save you. Just, just... hold on to Rebekah’s hand,” Klaus said through streaming tears.

Rebekah’s hand found yours and you squeezed her hand hard. Little by little, you felt the stake come out of you. You screamed in agony and gasped for air. The stake finally exited your chest cavity. You took a deep breath of relief. Your hand found Klaus’s cheek.

Tears left your eyes as the pain gradually disappeared. Klaus smiled at you, nuzzling into your hand. His hand went over yours, running his hand up and down your forearm. You smiled back at him, bringing his head close to yours. Your forehead’s touched, making you anxious for what was about to happen.

“Y/n, drink this blood,” Rebekah interrupted the moment and shoved a blood bag in your face. You furrowed your brows and your hand left Klaus’s face. Klaus moved away from you and stood up.

You ripped the blood bag open and downed it. You felt yourself slowly regain your strength. You stood up, giving the empty blood bag to Rebekah.

“You really had to interrupt our moment?” You asked.

“Yes! I was there. Plus, you really wanted your first kiss with him to be with you lying on the floor, helpless and weak?” Rebekah chuckled. “Maybe,” you shrugged. “It would’ve been romantic.”

“Well, you can recreate it and make it be even more romantic with you fully conscious now. He went upstairs,” Rebekah said and pointed to the stairs.

“Thanks, Bex,” you smiled. You jogged up the stairs and found Klaus sitting on his bed, head in his hands.

“Nik?” You asked softly.

Klaus looked up to you, his eyes red and his cheeks wet from tears.

“What’s wrong?” You asked and sat next to him.

“I... I thought I almost lost you,” Klaus spoke.

You smiled sweetly at him. “No one can kill me, Klaus. I’m just that cool.”

Klaus chuckled at your joke. You laughed with him and put your hand on his.

“Did you really mean what you said to the Salvatores?” You asked.

“That I’m in love with you? You heard that?” Klaus asked. You nodded in anticipation.

“Well, yes. Yes, I am in love with you,” Klaus said.

Your lips upturned into a bright smile. You crashed your lips onto his in an instant. Your hands flew up to his hair. Your fingers started to play with his dirty-blond locks.

Your swiped your tongue on his lips and he opened his mouth. His lips felt like heaven. They were soft, smooth, and great at kissing. As your tongue explored his mouth, you noticed that he tasted like blood. The taste made you lean into the kiss more, deepening it.

His hand found your cheek and cupped your face, His other hand went down to your thigh, lighting your skin on fire. Without breaking the kiss, you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. Klaus’s hands went on your hips, using his hybrid strength to switch places so he towered over you.

Your hands trailed down to his shirt, sneaking your hands under his shirt. Klaus moaned into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of your fingertips on his skin. While you were tracing around his. chest, Klaus’s hands went down to your waist, also snaking his hands up your shirt.

“Nik,” you moaned as his touch put your skin on fire, but in a good way. You felt alive, excited, like you finally found your missing puzzle piece.

You pulled away, your chest heaving up and down. Klaus looked down at you, smiling as if he’d seen the most beautiful thing ever. Your face was flushed, lips swollen and wet from kissing.

“About time you kissed me. I was beginning to think you’d never do it,” Klaus smirked at you.

You rolled your eyes, “Like you ever knew I had a crush on you.”

“True, but I do now. So, are you just going to sit here, or are you going to makeout with me?” Klaus asked.

You giggled and pressed your lips back onto his, your mind and body going to a state of pure bliss.

————

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thevindicativevordan · 3 years

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How do you feel about the way New Krypton was resolved? To me it felt really callous. Like DC was just sweeping it all aside with the Kryptonians being genocided, and then the whole world moves on a week later.

Two words: Wasted potential.

This should have been Superman's Sinestro Corps War, his big event/storyline that completely rejuvenated his sales and brought in a ton of new readers. It had all the hallmarks of being the big shakeup that the Superman franchise desperately needed: it gave Superman a big conflict that allowed him to punch stuff while also not being something he could solve solely by punching, it centered all of his big villains and gave them the revamps they needed (particularly Zod as I'll get to later), it involved all the other members of the Superfamily (bar Conner who was dead at the time) and gave them stuff to do, it even brought in the Legion of Superheroes at one point! The setup was all there to do something great, to give Superman that big event storyline he hadn't had since Death of Superman (or President Luthor if you're feeling generous).

And DC completely fucked it up.

First you had Busiek and Johns, the guys who were doing the actual setup and who had been doing great work beforehand, both leave the books right as the event was kicking off. Busiek to go do Trinity and Johns to go prepare Blackest Night, both leaving their big event to be executed by new writers who had not been involved in the process of conceptualizing this event. Then you had Clark taken out of Superman and Action Comics, those titles given to Z-Listers, and Clark himself dropped into a brand new mini. No offense to those who like Mon-El but there was never a chance in hell of him sustaining his own book as the lead guy unless Johns was writing it. Then you hilariously had the first son of Clark and Lois, Chris Kent, aged up in a bizarre way and made a costumed hero himself with a romance to boot in a deeply unpopular move (funny how history repeats itself, although I like what's unfolding with Jon a lot more). So of course the sales tanked, and what happened next was inevitable.

DC panicked and hit the reset button so hard a planet exploded and everyone died, except for Kal, Kara, and Zod plus some of his loyalists.

God I was pissed because while the side books may have floundered, the main mini itself following Clark on New Krypton? That was really good in my opinion.

Clark was forced into an interesting position: a second chance at life with his people, at the cost of renouncing ties with his adopted homeworld. Can Kal-El find a way of keeping the peace between the two worlds, with the leadership on both ends preparing for war? That's an exciting and enticing premise or at least it was for me! I loved the storyline also because it took the usual cliche storyline of Superman losing his powers and flipped it: what if there was an entire new planet full of guys who were just as strong as he was? What makes Superman special then? And we got to see the answer: his brains and his experience.

It was cool seeing Clark kick ass, seeing him navigate the politics of the Guilds and Kryptonian society. There was so much worldbuilding going on at the same time, old Kryptonian animals and plants being recreated on New Krypton, the dissatisfaction within the Labor Guild, the military spoiling for a fight, Kal's internal struggles with everyone seeing Zod as a hero and him having to try to work quietly to change that, it was all really fun to read about for me. There were also those hints of long term plotlines being set up, such as those aliens from Saturn who were also super powered, and were letting the newcomers know they were keeping an eye on things. I seriously thought we were going to get a Solar War with every race in the Sol system fighting each other for dominance. And the Superman/Zod dynamic has never been better than it was in this storyline.

The two did not like each other, but there was a grudging respect being built up between the two. Kal was coming to appreciate that Zod genuinely cared about protecting the Kryptonians, and Zod was coming to respect Clark's skills and insights. Zod was sympathetic and understandable in his goals while also still being a ruthless son of a bitch, which is exactly how I prefer he be depicted.

In all honesty this was the first big Zod story I read and it shaped my perceptions of how he should be. You also had General Sam Lane on the other side, putting together Project 7734 to tackle the Kryptonians, drafting Lex Luthor, Metallo, and others to his side. Hell this was the last and as far as I know only story to pit the Big 3 of Lex, Brainiac, and Zod against one another, something I would dearly love to see tried again. All these major players working their own agendas simply isn't something you usually get in Superman books. Lex working to kill Superman and the other Kryptonians of course, but also out to steal knowledge from Brainiac and secure his freedom. Brainiac wanting to recapture the Kryptonians. Zod and Lane out to preemptively destroy one another, with Zod seeding Kryptonian sleeper agents back on Earth. Superman's Rogues got good showings as the dangerous threats they are in this story, I'll say that much.

All of it torched in the end alas. DC definitely wanted it all swept under the rug and forgotten. I liked the retcon of Grounded really being Superman suffering a massive case of PTSD which is why he was being an asshole under JMS, but I doubt that was the original intention. You're right, Clark having to experience the pain of losing his people as an adult, and Kara having to re-experience it along with the death of her mother, really should've gotten more focus. But they wanted it gone and done with.

You know what kills me? Not even a few years later they'd reboot the whole damn universe anyway, so what was the point of taking Superman back to his "status quo"? They should've just said fuck it and let the writers go wild in the final years before the New 52, let New Krypton play out as it was intended to, it was all going to get rebooted anyway. Of course New 52 was a rush job I understand, so they didn't know ahead of time what would happen, but I can't help but be bitter.

The potential New Krypton offered is one I would 100% love to see revisited, in an animated movie or in that upcoming My Adventures With Superman cartoon. The animated side keeps changing the stories as they adapt them anyway, and I would love to see the ending to New Krypton get changed. Give me the original Johns/Busiek plan for the event, or give me something else entirely, it can't be a bigger disappointment than what we ultimately got anyway.

#superman #new krypton #supergirl #dc comics #general zod

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hteragram-x · 4 years

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Remus Sanders is an artist HCs – part 2

Next part of [THIS POST]

It may be slightly more angsty than last time... (but it’s still packed with this Creativitwins content I crave... plus there are hints at Intrulogical, Dukeceit, and Intruality).

...

21. When Remus wants Logan to join him with creating new hybrids and some weird terraformations in the Imagination he leans in way too close and asks: “wanna play god?” in a seductive voice. (Works every time.)

22. He paints a lot and he usually needs gigantic canvas, because he’s very expressive and energetic, so the paint goes everywhere (including the artist himself… I mean he drinks it) and he’s got no patience to deal with some small easel when he has A VISION.

23. He likes recreating already existing famous paintings, but – obviously – makes them more sexual and/or bloody. The more disturbing the better.

24. He knows quite a lot about classical art and the well known artists. If you want to rebel against the rules you need to know them first, right? (he learnt that too)

25. Remus is better with theory, Roman has more artistic intuition when it comes to new techniques. So they can often teach each other. Remus giving the facts and Roman quickly coming up with new ways to apply this knowledge in practice. (Logan’s very proud.) They generally like trying new techniques and materials to paint or sculpt together.

26. Remus, just like Roman, really wants a big audience (or any audience, at least). The fact that he’s “trapped” in Thomas’ mind is sometimes depressing, because his brother’s ideas are quite often created in the real world, but his art stays in the subconscious with no one to witness its disturbing glory.

27. So Roman made him an art gallery where he can display all his proudest creations. Most of the visitors are just the made up people from Imagination, but sometimes one of the sides will go there too. Patton has more than once spent the entire evening looking at the displays through his fingers, but he’s seen every single work of art and tried real hard to honestly compliment at least one thing about all of them. (He even took the autograph. Remus definitely didn’t cry.)

28. Once Roman and Remus decided to paint each other portraits and then autoportraits to hang them together for comparison. It started as a friendly competition to brag about their skills, but it turned out that each brother painted their twin with much more sad expression than they had on their autoportraits. They decided to not talk about it again, but they kept the paintings in their rooms nonetheless.

29. Remus once gave every side their portrait for birthday or nameday. They were very… ehm… realistic. Let’s just say that not every side wants to show them publically.

30. He likes asking other sides to be his models as a sneaky excuse to spend time with them. Most of them already discovered his intentions, but they come to his study anyway. Deceit is the most patient and graceful model and the only one willing to take off any clothes (to show more scales, mostly). Logan can be patient too if you let him read or rant about something while posing. Patton is too energetic so he can only pose for quick sketches.

...

31. Remus stopped asking Roman to be a model, because… well… He can just draw himself without moustache, since they are twins (in an AU where the sides don’t look exactly the same…; if they do look alike, then he can draw anyone and put into Roman’s costume). But to be honest Roman just can’t stay in one position for more than twelve seconds. He’s easily distracted and gets excited, leave him alone.

32. When the twins were little they drew a lot pictures together on a giant cardboard. You could always guess which part was done by which twin. (And they really made Patton suffer by constantly asking which one he likes more.)

33. One of Remus’ biggest dreams is for Thomas to direct a horror movie. The most obnoxious and over the top production, full of gore, but with a super sad ending that affects you more than all the limbs and eyeballs flying around earlier.

34. He has at least twenty variants of the script and a long list of ideas (such as the designs of the monsters and precise descriptions of gruesome deaths), but at some point he realized that his big project will never be transferred to the silver screen. He gave up on asking Thomas about it after the seventh script, but kept writing.

35. When asked nicely he will paint, draw, sculpt etc. something pretty and delicate for others. Sometimes other sides do that to tease him and see him sketching fluffy animals, but he actually appreciates that they want his art. So if he spends a quiet evening painting some sunflowers in watercolours it’s all good. (But they better praise his work adequately. He could have spent that time sketching naked dudes, so be grateful, Janus.)

36. When struck with a sudden wave of inspiration Remus will write down his idea (or sketch something) no matter the situation. With a fork on the wall? Sure. With permanent marker on his forehead. Of course. (So you should not be surprised to see him walking all day with the words “tentacles, birthday cake, salt” written all over his face.)

37. He likes designing tattoos. He even put them on two other sides (they agreed!). [I’m not going to tell which ones.] And he really enjoyed it. You combine art with causing pain. How could he not like it?

38. He did at some point use his own blood to paint. It’s Remus, let’s be real.

39. When he’s melancholic and needs a change he likes to stay on his side of Imagination and just shift all the things around. He rebuilds the parts of his tower or let the forest grow at the impossibly fast speed. He doesn’t consider it art, but he often ends up with something new and interesting, so maybe it is? (plus he feels better afterwards)

40. But when he’s extra sad, he would just sit down and write poetry. Because he honestly thinks that poems are kind of lame. And what’s lamer than being sad, am I right? haha (someone hug him).

...

I don’t know if I’m finished with this list… Probably not.

[Again, part one is HERE.]

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thechosenferret · 4 years

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Of Course It’s Precious Potter - Chapter 3

This chapter is dedicated to @scarheaded-ferret for his birthday! You are such an incredible person, and I hope you enjoy your next year of life! <3

Summary: Draco has been tasked to steal a possession from precious Prince Potter. Little does he know, that's only a small test for what they need done next. Well, that is if Draco can carry it out to the end.

You can also read it on ao3 under the username TheChosenFerret (there’s a link in my bio, I don’t trust tumblr with links in original posts), or through my tag #Of Course it’s Precious Potter

一一一一一一一一

As the day progressed, Harry couldn’t get the nagging thought out of his head that perhaps his mind hadn’t entirely made up the blond stranger. With would be a lovely thought if it meant that he could see him again, but there was still the tiny problem that their first meeting was… technically due to trespassing.

Harry didn’t give a thought to why exactly he was trespassing until he made his way to his dresser. Every year, Harry sees the same items on that dresser. Every week, Harry cleans those same items on that dresser. Every day, Harry picks up one specific item on that dresser. Today, however, it was gone. Gone except the letter he carefully kept secret underneath it, which could only mean three things. One, someone knew about the letter. Two, someone purposely left the letter. Three, the blond man must of stolen his dad’s trophy.

Fuck.

Of course the trespassing man had to commit another crime at the same time.

Of course the trespassing, stealing man had to purposely not steal what was now the last remaining artifact of his parents. Harry didn’t know whether to count this man as a complete fool, report him immediately to the watchmen, or send him a thank you card. Of course, reporting him to the watchmen would mean giving up the letter for investigation and to “protect the past King and Queen’s treasures,” aka lock them up until they rot away, so that was clearly not an option. All that’s left is that the man is a fool who should be thanked, which could only be done if he made the foolish decision to strike again.

He could strike again, actually. Seeing as he left behind the letter, someone may of been just as pissed off as Harry was happy.

In that case, Harry went to collect his parent’s letter like always, but instead of reading it before immediately hiding it again, he brought it over to his desk, where he placed it next to him so he can protect it better, then began to write letter to the blond man. After a few drafts, he finally felt okay enough with it, and went to leave it in the middle of the room upside down with the words “To The Blond” written as big as possible on the back.

Feeling the day catch up to him at last, Harry collected his parent’s letter and made his way to the bed, where he read through the it from the light of the one candle left still lit in his room. He then carefully placed it on a pillow next to him that he is certain will not be harmed if he were to roll over in the middle of the night before blowing out the flame and finally going to sleep.

一一一一一一一一

Following the same path that he took last night, Draco scaled up the castle, steadied a rope to a mini cross lined up across the roof, and made his way down the chimney into the now unfortunately too familiar, dusty fireplace. The only thing that was different now was the one piece of trash among the nearly spotless room. Draco ignored the item and surveyed the room, trying to get into the mind of such a Posh Prince to see where he might hide his oh so important diary.

On the bookcase? Although the room is pristine, the bookcase feels like it hasn’t been touched in ages. In the drawer under his bedside table? Draco carefully made his way closer to the table, and therefore the stupid prince. He looked so… not idiotic while asleep, even slightly peaceful. Draco snapped himself out of his thoughts as he turned his attention back to the table and, subsequently, the drawer that was lacking a diary.

Draco continued his search by checking the other drawers in the room, where the most interesting thing he saw was a hairbrush, but yet no journal. Not wanting to be out in the open for too long, Draco made his way back to the fireplace, but not before stopping in the middle of the room with that stupid piece of trash. The stupid piece of trash that was addressed to a blond. Merlin, of course Potter had seen him. And to make it worse, he wrote him a letter. Curiously, Draco picked it up and started to read it as he very slowly walked back to the fireplace. Potter wanted to meet up with him. And doesn’t despise him? That idiot. He’d guess the prince was all self-righteous and forgiving, but he never expected to be on the receiving side of it.

He paced the room without care as he read the letter again and again, only stopping when his brain started to think about how he must of written this tonight, which means that he probably used his desk tonight seeing as the paper didn’t show signs of being written without a solid surface behind it, therefore maybe he regularly uses his desk, so perhaps he has actually used the books stacked on his desk. During all this time of snooping, Draco thought the pile of books was just for decoration to act like he studies.

Draco put his letter in his pocket and began to sort through the books. Introduction to Finances? Nope. Full History of 1660 to 1666… Aha! An unmarked book with handwritten entries dating back to 10 years ago. And to further prove his point, the handwriting is very close to the one shown on his letter. Bingo! Not wanting to risk Harry seeing him for what now would be the third time, Draco slipped back out with the diary, totally not glancing at Harry one last time before leaving.

一一一一一一一一

Draco continued his route to the meeting spot by rooftop, not wanting to deal with scaling back down quite yet. As he walked and jumped, all his thoughts kept tracing back to that damn letter. That letter and the diary that featured what he can only guess is all the minor inconveniences for such a rich and loved guy such as Potter. Which means that it really wouldn’t be horrible to read some of it. Plus, he should double check that this contains the prince’s thoughts, and not some rando’s diary the prince somehow has saved. So, Draco was legally obligated to read it.

Draco made his way over to the meeting spot and found a nice spot on the roof where he can lean against a half wall, but could still perfectly see the sun when it rises. The client can wait a few more hours for me to double check this purchase. Can’t give away faulty merchandize after all. So he read. And read. And read.

The journal wasn’t contains of minor inconveniences at all. Actually, they were very major problems. Why hadn’t this idiot told someone about this before? That cupboard. His family. Merlin. Draco couldn’t let this get out to some second hand thief, not that it was any better that he’d done it. There must be some reason he’s been keeping it out of the public’s eye for so long… which means that Draco’s going to have to make sure that this book stays a secret. One stupid letter and all the sudden he’s helping people, all thanks to that idiot Potter.

Draco hid the journal in his jacket and made his way down the building and to the market. He had to look into a lot of stores to find one that has someone in it, let alone is selling empty journals, but at long last he found it. He got the smallest one (both to help out on cash but also so he can fill it up faster), then bought a quill and ink and made his way back to the roof to start his work.

He wrote until the sun finally did rise, but he managed to create a diary full of minor inconveniences that seemed close enough to reality to be believable. To finish it off, Draco scrawled the words “Harry James Potter’s Personal Journal” on the front. It pained him to have to try to recreate the messy handwriting of Potters, but he feels like he’d pulled it off with flying colors—maybe his cousin was right about how he should go into forgery.

Worried about stalling any more, Draco hide the real diary and letter on the roof, and made his way down the building. He threw on his “I just pulled off a successful heist” face just as the same man from the previous night appeared from behind a wall. Silently, he handed over the replicated diary, choosing to not speak even when he guy walked away and said “Well contact your family again soon” for fear of having his voice betray his thoughts, all of which were along the lines of fuck.

一一一一一一一一

Taglist: @devilrising @sweetlialia @ladyseidenlocke

#drarry fanfic #Drarry fanfiction #drarry #drarry squad #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #drarry fic #my writing #draco x harry #harry x draco #Prince!Harry Potter #Royal!Harry Potter #Criminal!Draco Malfoy #Of Course it's Precious Potter

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solarlightsonline · 3 years

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xxxgospodinovaxxx · 4 years

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Personal Injury Law Firms in Savannah, GA

Savannah Automobile Accident Lawyers

No individual likes to be a victim of a car accident. But a car accident can occur whenever you want. When you or anyone in your family was involved in a car accident, you might undergo a huge number of medical bills, physical pain, discomfort, lost income, and emotional distress. You need to know you might have options if you experience this kind of incident. Many people will probably be perplexed if they are involved in an auto accident and don`t know how to proceed next. The most important thing once you have undergone treatments is usually to consult a qualified automobile accident lawyer in Savannah.

Savannah has countless motor vehicle accident attorneys. But many of these lawyers are not created alike. Your quest will determine the caliber of the lawyer you choose. You have to be doing the necessary homework before finding the right car accident law office in Savannah. That`s where Kenneth S. Nugent, P.C. comes in handy. Kenneth is really a high quality personal injury lawyer in Savannah. The lawyers at Kenneth S. Nugent, P.C. have extensive experience of handling all types of accidental injuries lawsuits. Our expert team of auto accident attorneys is ready to visit that one step further to meet the needs of our customers in Savannah as well as its suburbs. That`s why you should call Kenneth S. Nugent, P.C. for all your automobile accident lawsuit needs in Savannah.

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Damages are any losses in the accident. Damages can be compensated under Georgia`s personal injury law. Damages include:

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endlessdoom · 3 years

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Master Levels for Doom II.

By various authors.

1995.

https://doomwiki.org/wiki/Master_Levels_for_Doom_II

MAP01: Attack

This is our first introduction to the iconic maps of the Master Levels. Created by Tim Willits and his sister, Teresa Chasar. This is a medium sized map with a boxed design that manages to establish a good sense of progress with a bit of dynamism and balanced combat. Taking into account that it's 1995, this is a decent/solid map that, if we play it in the order I'm using (Xaser's order) works as a good start to this classic collection. Interesting to know that Tim Willits' story is one of, uh, quite the polemic stuff, but it is also good to know that he did not do this as a lonely map, on the contrary, he made these maps with his sister. Quite an interesting story and an equally fascinating map.

MAP02: Canyon

Canyon, second map in the order of Xaser, is also the second map made by Tim Willits and Theresa Chasar. We start with an abstract arena of combat with a few pillars and multiple directions to advance. The use of items is favorable enough to compensate the instantaneous combat. Surprisingly, although not so visually appealing, this map has certain areas that have their own unique appeal, such as a catwalk with a small acid pool and a beautiful green waterfall. What stands out the most in this solid map is the unique and well designed progression, being simple but always maintaining a constant rhythm that makes us move without major stops. What can you expect from one of Id's lead designers?

MAP03: The Catwalk

Christen Klie is the author of the third map of the Master Levels. An author with a fairly prolific track record during the 1990's that would capture the attention of Id Software and then other companies like LucasArts, The Catwalk is a mid-sized map that encapsulates the early art of mapping during the 1990's. An amalgamation of different designs that tries to recreate together under the same progress, along with interesting quirks that give it a certain flavor of adventure and a little bit of discomfort. This is a simple map that stands out more for its layout than for its simplified and tight gameplay. The one titled Catwalk is actually only part of the end of the level, but leaving that aside, this is a pretty interesting attempt to create something distinctive but still relevant. Did it succeed? I'll leave it to you.

MAP4: The Fistula

Another map by Christen Klie. This one appears also on the PS website, being the sixth map of the first episode. This is a medium size map with a claustrophobic design and a somewhat forgettable layout. Confusing at times and with a somewhat mediocre gameplay, it's a map that fortunately ends quickly so we shouldn't hate it too much.

MAP05: The Combine

Christen Klie certainly designed a lot of maps, with at least a quarter of the Master Levels being made by him, sharing the honor with the legendary Dr. Sleep. The Combine is a medium sized map with a rather abstract design that actually reveals without any problem the year and the design philosophy it has. With a large number of doors, meaningless roads, alignment errors and a few hesitant design decisions, this is a map that is at best mediocre. Only about 65 enemies in UV but it can take us more than 8 minutes to find the exit despite being a relatively small-medium map. Interestingly, Chris' maps seem to drop in quality as we go forward, this is probably the one I like the least.

MAP06: Subspace

Oh boy. What we have here is an interesting and classic attempt at prog mapping in the 90s by Chris. Tricks, uh, interesting, plus a somewhat strange progression and a confusing layout. Visually we don't have to wait for anything, they are 100% stock textures without any creativity. After that we have nothing more interesting than a floating switch that until today I wonder: What was the idealization process to create such a thing? This is a map that seems to stand out only because of the innocent charm it has, but stripped to the bone, it is rather mediocre.

MAP07: Paradox

Now we have more interesting things. The first and only map by Tom Mustaine (not related to the famous guitarist and singer) and an interesting example of good design, layout and not-so-raw gameplay, but totally uninspired and with very bland visuals and ultimately, a very lost layout. Trying to find that red key is a pain in the ass or just a walk-in-the-park, 50 / 50, and that really lowers the overall fun of this map.

MAP08: Subterra

Christen Klie is back with another map that starts quite hot brings an interesting gameplay curve all around. A design that for to point I consider typical of Chris: varied rooms connected to a central path as well as a bizarre search for keys. He seems to focus more on finding an avant-garde design. This is a map, like his previous ones, doesn't stand out at all for its visuals but at least it defends itself a bit with a somewhat rough but challenging gameplay. Some acid softlocks and pit with no exit may slow down progress, and the confusing path system goes into some unnecessary roads that bog down progression. Not a good map, to be honest.

MAP09: The Garrison

More square than ever and with a somewhat gothic visual style. At least it's not completely brown. What we have here is another classic example of Christen's maps. They are not funny. They are pretty rough to look at and play with, with a cryptic and unfair progression system. There's not much I can say, maybe just defend it with the fact that it's 1995, but still, other mappers do a much better job. This is not a good map but luckily it is the author's last one in the Master Levels.

MAP10: Black Tower

Here we have something quite interesting. A massive level created by Sverre André Kvernmo (Cranium), an author who would remain active for almost 2 decades (although a little sporadically and with a few hiatuses). This is the first truly massive map in the Master Levels, and also one of the most creative thanks to its interesting progression system that, despite being quite lost, feels like a real exploration adventure of the 90s. A big black tower in the middle of the map where we will have to search and find all the keys through teleports, rooms, traps, etc. This is a pretty decent map that manages to entertain for the 20 to 30 minutes it lasts. It is big, no doubt, but in its well-made creativity and quality of the 90s, it is one that manages to be successful.

MAP11: Virgil’s Lead

Created by the legendary Dr. Sleep. Virgil's Lead is the first map of Dr. Sleep in the Xaser Master Levels order, continuing with our adventure we now have a mapper who acquired a legendary status for his incredible vision and fantastic mapping skills. This map is a testament to his ability to create even during 1995. A medium size map with a very characteristic style that reminds me of the visual theme of Thy Flesh Consumend. With a good progression, an entertaining breakthrough and a well balanced challenge as well as well defined examples of architecture, this is a great map that is part of the famous Inferno series.

MAP12: Mino’s Judgement

Dr. Sleep established a legacy thanks to his fantastic contributions to the community and his great signature style that would later inspire a multitude of new mappers. This style can be well appreciated in this series, part of the Master Levels. Minos' Judgement follows the same remissive style of E4 (marble and tight architecture) with a nice unique touch that gives it a very appreciable atmosphere. This is a bigger map but with a much more complicated style that in spite of having a multitude of interconnected roads, we always manage to know where to go and how to go. Progress is key and the gameplay feels incredibly satisfying because of that. Apart from some fantastic visuals for the 90s, this is a good map in every aspect.

MAP13: Nessus

Dr. Sleep continues to pamper us with his fantastic maps. This is a simpler, more modest one with a simple and easy to understand layout without any unnecessary complexity. The progression is designed to make you go through the whole map twice but offering different paths and a dynamic combat with varied enemies, as well as different encounters and solid visuals.

MAP14: Geryon

Geryon: 6th Canto of Inferno by Dr. Sleep, part of his classic Inferno series. This time around we have a more simplistec yet fun medium-size map and a more palpable modesty. With a style that encourages adventure/exploration, this is a map that shouldn't be too difficult but fun enough to finish without problems. It highlights the final area where we have a good battlefield, creating a palpable and appreciable style.

MAP15: Vesperas

The last entry of Dr. Sleep's Inferno series in the Master Levels. It is a medium sized map with a box design that promotes constant combat under different tight and open areas, making use of plenty of teleporters and monster closets. Challenging but surmountable! Ammunition can be a problem. Unfortunately, this map is a bit lost and it can be slightly annoying to try to find the keys, which do not seem to be very visible. Starting with the fact that if we don't know that there is a small invisible ledge that leads to the yellow key, we will probably have a good time wondering what to do. In spite of that, this map rewards us with a good and exciting gameplay.

MAP16: Titan Manor

Here we have the first map by Jim Flynn. Titan Manor is one big boxed manor set in the moon of Saturn, Titan. What appears to be quite simple on the outside reveals an intricate layout on the inside, with good attention to detail (for 1995) and several routes to take as well as secrets to reveal. In spite of having an interesting design and promoting exploration, this map has a rather cryptic and difficult to understand progression system; designed based on hidden switches, tiny platforms and other things. Expect to spend a lot of time trying to find your way out if you don't have a guide.

MAP17: Trapped On Titan

This map feels like a direct sequel to the previous Titan Manor, but now we are stuck in Titan. Or something like that. It's a map that combines elements of abstract design with areas that try to look like cities or urban settings, all with a good dose of weird but understandable progression. This is a difficult map, you have to say that. The beginning and the middle are quite tight and the items are usually hidden in unofficial secrets or other areas. The end is also a hot one but if we were careful we should have enough HP, armor and ammo to survive. In general, this is a pretty solid map that has a particularly hot design that makes it attractive for those looking for challenges. It is not as lost as the previous one so that is an extra point.

MAP18: The Express Elevator To Hell

I had been warned a little about this map... I see why. What we have here is a clear example of an original and fun idea but executed in a wrong way and too much of a novice. The essence of it is to cross a map with an elevator that takes us to different paths that we need to travel to complete it. The problem is that such an elevator is a bit annoying to use, the enemies are too many and in places with 0 maneuverability and by the way the items are very short, resulting in a map of very high difficulty that does not feel satisfactory. Especially the final area, ugh. I have mixed opinions about this adventure, but it's not all bad.

MAP19: Bloodsea Keep

Another map by Sverre André Kvernmo who seems to have a little creativity in mind. I had high hopes for this map, since I like the idea of castles and fortresses, however, this is a classic example of a beautiful design ruined by a terrible gameplay. The positioning of enemies is terrible and it is made with the purpose of delaying you as much as possible while offering you the minimum of ammunition to survive. There is no SSG in sight, only in the secrets that will not be so easy to find. Unfortunately, I can't give a positive opinion about this map since it cost me half a soul to finish it, at least I can say that its layout and design is attractive enough, although it doesn't manage to make synergy with the clearly outdated gameplay.

MAP20: Mephisto's Maosoleum

This one feels like the previous one. An interesting (though clearly outdated) map that is on the theme of castles. It has a slightly more interesting gameplay and offers more interesting alternatives. I'm not a fan of the fact that the vast majority of enemies are Revenants, which are not easy to balance on open levels. On the other hand, the middle of the map is interesting enough to be worthwhile, but the end is disastrous. This is a IoS fight but with only one window of opportunity to attack Romero. Such window is located in a super narrow corridor right next to the spawn point of the cubes. Totally absurd and unfair, but oh well, that's the end of it!

MAP21: Bad Dream

This is probably the most mediocre map of all, but at the same time, an interesting proposal. The last level in the Xasers order of the Master Levels and one of those levels that we would find with 1 of 5 or 5 of 5 stars in /idgames. A simple enormous circular level with dozens of Cyberdemons and a single Spidermastermind that blocks our way. The trick is simple: make the Cyberdemons attack the Spidermastermind and then run for our lives while we pick up the keys one by one. The roof will start to crush us slowly so it's a matter of repeating the process until victory is achieved. What else can we expect from a secret level of the 90s?

End textscreen.

Overall:

Master Levels for Doom II (1995)

By various authors

Let's travel in time. Let's go precisely to the year 1995, on the date of December 26th. It is practically a post-celebration day for many and some are even still resting and recovering from Christmas hangovers. It is a time of celebration and joy for many, and for others it is just another day. But... for some people, somewhere in the world, it is a unique day of premiere in which they will see things they never imagined before. For some Doomers in whatever part of the world they were, possibly the US, it's the day the legendary Master Levels for Doom II was released. Iconic, dear, mixed, hated, infamous, etc. There are many opinions about this particular collection of 21 maps for this fantastic game. Some talk about it with positive voices and memories of nostalgia mixed with a hint of longing; others despise it and consider it as a mediocre point in the life of Id Software where they only collected a bunch of levels and called it a day. Well, that is true, indeed. Master Levels for Doom II is pretty much that: a collection of 21 maps from different authors that range in quality and quantity, sometimes going from the very best that 1995 had to offer, to also the very worst that we can find, all in vanilla, lovely vanilla flavor. Well, then, what makes it so special? We could start with the simple fact that this is an official release from Id Software, which in theory could be considered a curated list of maps that the boys considered worthy of release during 1995. Something we would never see again with this style. Of course, there are many collections of shovelware with different styles and certain legends behind them, Maximum Doom is a good example (which is included alongside the Master Levels but that's another beast for another day) but probably the only underground collection with true legendary status is this one. The Master Levels are a distant memory of past times, of creative nostalgia and stages of immaturity. This is vanilla beauty and also inept ugliness. Mediocrity and fantasy come together to give us a bag full of gold and dirt. Here we have a piece of history, and like any story, it can be as ugly as it is beautiful. This is a relic of the days of yore, and one that I’m about to give my honest opinion and also some words of exterior retrospective. So, shall we?

The Master Levels for Doom II is a collection of 21 maps by different authors, ranging from some well-known community legends like Dr. Sleep, to even some authors that would later become official Id members, like Tim Willits. Created with the purpose of making direct competition to the rest of the creators of collections/compilations of shovelware, according to the words of the Johns: to "give the D!ZONE guys a run for their money." In that I think we can agree on that they did achieved it. While other collections are not as well known to this day, much less played, the Master Levels even have a certain cult category that gives them relevant popularity among Doom fans. Surprisingly, Maximum Doom probably has a more representative but equally interesting cult next to the Master Levels.

Most of the maps that we find here are from already existing WADs released previously by their creators, such as the Inferno series by Dr. Sleep. According to Sverre Kvernmo, one of the authors, most of the stuff was hunted by Id Software looking for some skilled mappers who might have some unreleased material, hence why this is more considered of collection than a properly made WAD. Some maps have special touches to give them some quality value, while others are in their pure and raw state no matter what. Inside you go and inside you play. In spite of that, the Master Levels have a certain air of born quality that we can detect without the need to make further extensive analysis within the range of levels that we will find. Of course, these are not the best maps of 1995, but they certainly have a certain touch of quality. Taking into account that this is 1995, a stage in which the level editors were not yet as convenient as they are now. Primitive tools, primitive maps. But don't let that fool you, the primordial state always has appreciable qualities even if hundreds of years go by. After all, it was called the Master Levels for something. The levels here were published with the idea that they would be of the highest quality, almost elite, making an allegory to the fact that their authors were masters of such creations. We only have to look at the ad of the Australian magazine version to read: ''Dust of Doom II, because now the master creators bring you...'' So, yeah, this was going in with quite the spiciness.

But in the end, does it manage to meet these high expectations? Well, that is quite hard to say. How can we compare it in current years? That would be unfair taking into account that even the best of the Master Levels looks pretty dull and boring compared to some recent stuff that has come out. Yet, how was the game for 1995? Well, things get interesting if we start to look at it from a more... antique perspective. Sure, playing the Master Levels in 2020 or 2021 probably isn't the most rewarding experience in the world, but I still have to admit it was fun. But what about going to 1995? Remember, this is before Final Doom and other projects that would revolutionize map design philosophy and change the world of WADs. This is 1995, Thy Flesh Consumed had just come out a few months ago so there wasn't much competition between official Id products. But competition between PWADs? Well, Memento Mori came out just a few days ago, the closest I can think of to compare between a community-made WAD but, of course, not Id released. Both are pretty iconic now a days, with Memento Mori probably being more played now a days. On the other hand, Memento Mori does suffer a bit from being outdated for today standards, and well, so does the Master Levels, yet, for 1995? Oh boy, I’m pretty sure these things were like gold bars for a Doom enthusiast.

I can’t say much about relating to that kind of experience, but I can try to, at least, lower my perception and look through a different kind of mirror into the past.

For 1995, the Master Levels are pretty solid in much of their levels. Heck, even the bad ones could be acceptable in 1995. As a matter of fact, I’m actually willing to say that most of the levels found here are superior in their overall quality to Doom II. Quite the fascinating subject of study but looking it in a more closely way, we begin to appreciate the kind of work that this collection offers, but to do so in a fair a just way, we have to look at each single of the authors in the Master Levels.

Going in with just the general order that the Doomwiki has, we start with:

Dr. Sleep: Legendary mapper and one of the earliest WAD masters that actually deserve the title. A great artist who stood out for his great ability to create levels that were as aesthetically appealing as they were fantastic to play; a stylized progression that combines gameplay elements as well as a classic example of early synergy with level design and enemy placement. Creator of the iconic Inferno series, five maps from this series are present in the Master Levels. Each of his maps stands out for having a fantastic presentation that makes great use of geometry and innovative attention to detail. From Virgil’s Lead to Vesperas, these are classic levels that are really worth playing and manage to stay relevant after all these years thanks to having good progression and a solid gameplay that will offer us good minutes of fun. Even if some of the areas of some maps can be seen as a bit old-fashioned for current years, his maps still manage to hold their own thanks to the simple fact that they are fun to play, even in today’s date.

Jim Flynn: An interesting case study of a mapper who seems to have ambitious ideas and even a bit of narrative. Creator of two maps, Titan Manor and Trapped in Titan. Flynn has an interesting style where he embraces more to the great and big, than to the modest or simplistic, straying from the traditional style of small levels with tight interiors. Its maps have a mood of adventure and exploration that seems to be clearly designed with the purpose of giving the player a few minutes of thought. Unfortunately, this is why his maps are the tardiest of all the Master Levels, with some very hard-to-understand progression, which can be somewhat detrimental to some players.

Christen Klie: Klie did six total levels for the Master Levels (curiously enough all his work was published in 1995, and then he just stopped doing Doom WADs) making him the most prolific mapper in the group. Unfortunately, as the saying goes, number does not equal quality and Klie offers several maps of very questionable quality. His maps, for 2020 or 2021, are horrible, but even for 1995 I think they are rather mixed examples of level design. They tend to be simple in presentation and their size is usually around medium to small, but it is in progression and gameplay where I really think he fails. his maps are lost, cryptic and with a style that makes us scratch our heads numerous times, which damages a lot the general quality. Interestingly enough, he would then make a multitude of other maps to release for free to the community, including a megawad and some maps for Heretic. So at least for that, thanks for the content, I guess.

Sverre André Kvernmo: Oh boy, this is the guy most people point at when talking about the hard levels of the Master Levels, cause let me tell you, his levels are tough as nails. Sverre aka Cranium, gives us a total of five levels for the Master Levels, ranging from interesting concepts to living nightmares in terms of design and difficulty. His best map is probably Black Tower, a concept map that stands out for offering an interesting adventure through different areas connected by teleporters. The map suffers a little bit of bad progression, but it is good enough. On the other hand, the rest of his maps are rather challenging to play with in every sense of the word. A bit lost, but always offering interesting original concepts although somewhat poorly executed. I can't say much about Sverre, their levels are solid for 1995 and have the charm of being challenging, except for Bad Dream which is a joke practically. After that, it's an interesting mapper that reminds me of Jim Flynn style. Sverre is also the only mapper that still contributes to the community in modern times, albeit quite sporadically. His last map was in released in 2016, after all.

Tom Mustaine: Not related to the famous metal guitarist and singer. Mustaine only contributed one level to the Master Levels, so there's not much to say about his overall legacy here, but he did have a special legacy elsewhere. Concentrating here, his only level, Paradox, is a square map with a simple design and too brown, but making use of an interesting and dynamic layout that allows a good fight and feels fun, even if a bit raw. After that, Mustaine, unfortunately, didn't contribute with more levels to the Master Levels. On the other hand, his legacy extends to multiple commercial projects, contributing with several maps to projects such as TNT: Evilution, Perdition's Gate and Hell To Pay. Also, he did other contributions to community projects like Memento Mori and even made music for Icarus and TNT: Evilution. A prolific author for the 90s, no doubt. A pity he didn't continue with the contributions. I think he would have achieved an admirable style among the community.

Tim Willits: The last ‘’Master Creator’’ of this article and probably the most infamous of them all. Willits is well known within the Doom community for becoming the studio director and co-owner of Id Software for over a decade, eventually leaving the company during 2019. Not well liked for his hot-takes and somewhat ass attitude, which has given him a bad reputation even among the gaming community in general, but now we will focus on another point that is often obscured by his previous bullshit. Willits is practically the dream of many mappers and designers in the community. He was recruited by Id Software after impressing them with his Raven and Empire WAD series. His levels were no doubt at Id's level to get him to join the team, since, we can see with his contributions to the Master Levels. We can quickly see that he had a special flair for level creation. Attack and Canyon are his two contributions to this collection. Maps made with the help of his sister, Theresa Chasar, of whom there is not much information other than that she co-authored many of the Willits' maps. Its two maps are solid and of a good quality, enough to offer a good entertainment thanks to a somewhat adventurous progression but always maintaining a constant rhythm that does not stop in terms of flow or combat. Making use of a little bit of abstract or surrealistic designs, Willits delivers two solid maps that are fun to play with. I wish he would have refrained to that alone.

As we can see more easily, this collection of maps brings 6 (or 7) authors of different ranges to give us 21 maps of different quality. Each author has, in one way or another, a certain style or set of characteristics that give them a distinguishable touch, either for good or for bad. Much can be said after so many years, but we always have to take into account that this is a work that was made almost 3 decades ago. Almost! That is quite a long time and a great testament to the fantastic work of conservation, perseverance and constant classical appreciation that this community possesses. We can see that these maps are, for lack of a more sensual word, ancient for modern times, and they show it in all honesty. Misuse of textures, confusing layouts, abstract themes, original but poorly executed concepts, boring and simple visuals, etc. But just as we can see the mistakes at first sight, we also have to be able to change our perspective and see what they did well with effort and a certain charisma. Original, creative maps, extravagant layouts, palpable design philosophies, different themes for each author, adventure designs, exploration capabilities, etc.

The Master Levels are, in one way or another, a master creation of different maps by different authors that all manage to have a distinguishable trademark. Launched on December 26, 1995, it is a creation as fantastic as it is terrible. Constantly changing levels of quality and style that show us different ways to play as well as paths to take that can lead us to rewarding exploration or to get lost in the pools of frustration while we are constantly struggling: Where the fuck do I go from here? That's what the Master Levels are all about. They may be a mixed box for these times, but I can't repeat again that what we have here is a piece of history that deserves all the attention it can get. This is just a glimpse of what the future holds. We have mappers who showed us the capabilities that our community would reveal over the years to come. We have mappers who would also show us the ugly and mixed face of many of the maps that would plague us for eternity. But, most of all, we have a collection of chocolates of different flavors ala Forest Gump. You don't know what you'll get, but you know you'll eat it and you know damn well… it is a chocolate. A tiny fraction of taste, of flavor. Just a small piece of candy for you to enjoy.

Personally, I had a lot of fun going through this historic delivery. Perhaps it is because I consider myself a historian and archivist of any piece of knowledge or content that exists. I like the idea of numbers, I have to admit, but I am also a lover of quality like everyone else, but, above all, I am an admirer of variation. The Master Levels present us with both factors, a trifecta of a fascinating odyssey: There is number, there is quality (in part) and there is a lot of variation. All this together and we have a piece of history that can never be erased from this world. They may not be as well-known as Final Doom or other installments, but the Master Levels are still a milestone that everyone should play, if only for the simple retrospective value it offers. After all, the true taste is found in tasting everything, until finally understanding each flavor. The Master flavors.

Fun fact: The Doom Master Wadazine name is inspired by, yes, indeed, the Master Levels.

Fun fact 2: And pretty much anything I’d do is going to carry Master as part of their name/title. Sorry not sorry.

#doom #doom2 #classic #retro #gaming #review #wad #mapping

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rabbitcruiser · 2 years

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Global Running Day

Whether you need to get back in the habit or start a new one, take the opportunity to improve your health and well-being by going for a run. Plus, it’s free!

The pavement under your feet, the crisp snap of early morning air, the pounding rhythm as you run the distance one long flowing stride at a time. Sweat trickling down your neck, the sun on your skin, your lungs burning with joyous exaltation as your heart beats a rapid but steady staccato in time with your running legs.

This is the joy of running, and every year millions of people all over the world find themselves out on the open road experiencing the joy, the thrill, and the pain, of recreational running.

Global Running Day celebrates these intrepid souls and their dedication to health and exercise, we should all join them.

History of Global Running Day

Running describes a particular gait of movement where, in general, both feet leave the ground at some point during the stride. That’s not to say that running always happens at the same speed, as gaits can change from person to person. Jogging and Sprinting are both considered forms of running but it doesn’t matter what speed you travel, if you’re out running you’re a runner!

Believe it or not, humans couldn’t always run. Admittedly, it was a long time ago when that was the case. When Australopithecus (our first upright ancestor) was evolving almost 4.5 million years ago, we gained the ability to have a long-striding run nearly. This stride was vital to our existence because as a species we engaged in what is known as ‘persistence hunting’, where catching our prey often involved days of hunting on foot in order to track and wear the animal down until it could no longer flee, and would collapse from pure exhaustion.

Millions of years on, and a long time since we needed to chase down our prey, we’ve never lost our ability to run and instead we made it a competition. Global Running Day celebrates the entire history of running, what it meant to our ancestors and what it still means to us today and is designed to bring together those people who absolutely love running and to encourage those who have yet to give it a try to put on their running trainers and to give it a go.

Benefits of running

You don’t need to be a scientist to know that running is good for you. In the most basic sense, running is a great form of exercise, getting your blood pumping and your heart rate up, burning calories and improving your physical health. But running won’t only help you to lose weight and get fit, it can help your mental health too, by working as a form of meditation in motion, reducing stress and lowering anxiety.

How to get better at running

If you’ve tried running before and were shocked at how hard you find it then this isn’t an excuse to give up altogether. Marathon runners weren’t born able to run marathons, and so if you’ve never run before then you need to manage your expectations. Why not start with some guidance from an App like the Couch to 5K, where you will slowly build up your stamina by walking and running in short intervals until eventually, you can run a full 5 kilometers without stopping.

Here are some tips to help you with your running:

Invest in good footwear Running puts a lot of pressure on your feet, so be sure to buy a good pair of running trainers that will give you the required arch and ankle support. The right trainers will give you more spring in your step and will stop you from getting nasty blisters.

Always warm-up and cool down Woah, hold your horses, you can’t just run off into the sunset without doing a proper warm-up. The good news is that warming up is easy, simply start your run with a brisk walk, get your heart rate up and after 5 minutes, off you pop.

Alternate between running and walking There’s this misconception that to be a runner you can’t stop, but this is just unrealistic. Until you can run longer distances, set yourself targets to run for 60 seconds then walk for 60 seconds, increasing the running time when you need more of a challenge.

How to celebrate Global Running Day

Really, the only way to celebrate Global Running Day is by getting out and starting to run. Whether you’ve run before or have never tried in your life, simply put on your running shoes, get out of the house and begin. Distance doesn’t matter, neither does walking when you need to catch your breath – running is a flexible sport that can be scaled up or down to suit all ages and abilities – the only important thing is that you begin.

If it’s your first run then, don’t overdo it, just start with a slow jog to begin with and take as long as you need to travel the distance. As you start feeling more confident you may want to up your pace or lengthen your run.

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#The Sutton Place Hotel #Revelstoke #gym #fitness room #travel #USA #Canada #one old pic #original photography #I go running every day if it's possible #sport #vacation #Global Running Day #NationalRunningDay #GlobalRunningDay #first Wednesday in June #1 June 2022

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veronicamarsconfessions · 4 years

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When Hulu announced it was reviving the cult favorite Veronica Mars for an eight-episode fourth season, the new episodes were initially referred to as a limited series. But in the year 2019, the phrase "limited series" also holds no meaning. If a show is successful enough, a network or streaming service will find a way to bring it back. Veronica Mars creator Rob Thomas has been vocal about his desire to continue Veronica's story beyond this new season, which Hulu refers to as Season 4, while series star Kristen Bell would be happy to play the show's eponymous sleuth until "until everyone in Neptune is dead." And for most of Season 4, that felt like a real possibility.

Although the show may never again reach the exciting highs of that first season, for a little while, simply being in Veronica's orbit again was enough to keep viewers happy and entertained. However, in the wake of the shocking, and frankly unnecessary, death of Logan Echolls (Jason Dohring), whom Veronica married in the finale and who was a key part of the show's enduring legacy, it's difficult to see how the show can continue with the same level of fan support that twice brought it back from the dead. And yet, Thomas is still hoping it will.

"The hope we have going into these eight episodes is that we get to do more of them. And my belief is that those will be better with Veronica Mars as the lead of a noir detective series who does not have a boyfriend or a husband," Thomas explained to TV Guide. "In order for us to keep doing these, I think it needs to become a detective show — a noir, mystery, detective show — and those elements of teenage soap need to be behind us. I sort of viewed these eight episodes as a bridge to what Veronica Mars might be moving forward."

Thomas said he wants to continue Veronica Mars as a Sherlock-esque series, one that can hopefully return with new seasons whenever Thomas and Bell can make their schedules align. This hypothetical version of the series would find Veronica solving different cases around the country, and a significant other for the show's heroine apparently doesn't fit into that plan. But the power of the Logan-Veronica relationship and what it meant to fans of the show should not be underestimated. To assume that viewers would even be interested in a Logan-less Veronica Mars almost feels like a fundamental misreading of the fandom.

Of course, this isn't meant to suggest that Veronica Mars cannot exist without Logan — that would be to belittle Veronica and her many achievements; although Logan clearly left an indelible mark on her, Veronica has accomplished plenty on her own without him, and she will no doubt find similar success in the future, especially if she stays in therapy and learns healthy methods of coping with her trauma. But at the same time, Logan is still a major character who was both deeply loved by Veronica and greatly beloved by a number of the show's fans. His sudden death and the reasoning behind it feels like a betrayal that becomes even more painful when you consider Logan's secretive military career would have been an easy way of writing him out of future installments without piercing the hearts of fans everywhere.

Further explaining the difficult decision to kill off Logan, Thomas revealed he worries that whenever a show reaches a romantic conclusion — like, say, a wedding — it also reaches a finale of sorts, and he's not ready for Veronica Mars to be over. This argument not only feels a bit dated, but it also feels a little misguided when a show like Friday Night Lights has already proven that a happy couple in a lasting, loving relationship can make for compelling television, or when series like Bones, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and Parks and Recreation have shown us that will-they, won't-they couples can get together without signaling the end of the road.

Knowing this, Logan's death feels needlessly cruel like it was a narrative decision seemingly meant only to further torment Veronica and leave her cold and isolated. While you can argue it serves to once again show just how resilient Veronica is in the face of adversity, how she always gets back up after the world has knocked her down, how much pain and heartache does Veronica have to go through before saying enough is enough? It's honestly exhausting. So, if fans are tired of seeing Veronica constantly having to endure a painful existence to somehow prove she's a great heroine and they choose to no longer watch the show because of this latest development, it's perfectly reasonable. And if fans are angry that Logan is dead and choose to no longer watch Veronica Mars because of this, it is pretty understandable too. However, even if fans can somehow stomach the idea of a Veronica Mars without Logan Echolls, Thomas' vision for the show's future raises more issues. Mainly, new seasons would find Veronica alone, separated from the town she knows and the people who call it home, and this would mean erasing yet another fundamental part of the show.

For four seasons (and a movie), Neptune and its inhabitants have added depth to its rich and rewarding story. Creators love to describe the location of a series as if it's a character in the story, and this is most often a frustrating sentiment that has lost all meaning through overuse, but Neptune is truly an example of a location that has played a major role in shaping not only the show's characters but also its ongoing narrative. Although the town is no longer the same as it once was — the class war and accompanying social commentary that dominated the series from the start is over after these eight episodes, as the town's wealthy elite have succeeded in pushing the working class out — that doesn't necessarily mean the best course of action is for Veronica to skip town and solve cases around the country. Like many shows before it, Veronica Mars is the story of a specific place, and if the show is to continue beyond these eight new episodes, it probably should remain committed to telling the stories of Neptune — at the very least Southern California — if for no other reason than the fact the show owes a lot to the exceptional supporting cast that calls it home and has brought its story to life since 2004.

After all, if Veronica leaves Neptune, where does that leave her father, Keith (Enrico Colantoni)? Thomas said the character may not make an appearance in hypothetical future seasons of the show, and that almost feels incomprehensible. Veronica's relationship with her father is the bedrock upon which the series has rested since the pilot. Even when the show was at its most uneven you could count on Veronica and Keith's powerful family dynamic to ground the story emotionally. And although Veronica is now an adult in her 30s, their relationship is the single most important relationship in her life in the wake of Logan's untimely death. To remove him from the equation entirely threatens to disrupt far more than the status quo, which is what Thomas's intention is by taking Veronica on the road. A Veronica Mars without Keith's stabilizing presence would make for a shell of a series, one that would only be further harmed if Veronica's chosen family — Wallace (Percy Daggs III), Mac (Tina Majorino), and Weevil (Francis Capra) — were to suddenly disappear from her life as well.

Now, the show hopes to minimize this instability by essentially skipping over Veronica's grieving period. As Thomas said, one of the reasons the season includes a flash-forward is so the series doesn't have to spend time actually depicting Veronica's grief. "Our bread and butter is being quick and funny, and I'm not sure it'd be to our benefit to living a year in Veronica's grief on our show," Thomas said, noting that by the end of the season Veronica is actually getting her feet back under her.

But even if Veronica has recovered from her latest trauma, Logan's death is still raw for viewers, and it's painful enough without having to consider that every familiar source of comfort could be ripped away at once in the potential next season. Even beyond the show's core supporting cast, Veronica Mars is home to a memorable motley crew who have brought Neptune to life, and their presence in future installments, no matter how small, would be a cool balm on fresh wounds. Plus, what does the show look like without them? Ryan Hansen's self-centered party king Dick Casablancas, Max Greenfield's charming Leo D'Amato, Ken Marino's skeezy private detective Vinnie Van Lowe, and Daran Norris' reliable public defender Cliff McCormack have all become fan favorites. They each play a necessary role in the show's ecosystem, much like the Fighting Fitzpatricks or the PCHers have done over the years.

Veronica Mars has excelled at building out its little corner of the world by populating it with unique but believable characters, and it's not to suggest that a version of the show that exists outside the world of Neptune won't be able to successfully reach the same depths or recreate that magic in the same way, but it will have to work a lot harder to do it, especially if future seasons once again have a limited episode count. Furthermore, even if new seasons turn out to be good, the truth is that a Veronica Mars outside of Neptune, one without any familiar faces in sight, would feel like a very different show, one that threatens to not feel like Veronica Mars at all.

Veronica Mars helped to usher in the tidal wave of revivals and reboots that is still washing over Hollywood some five years after the fan-funded feature film hit theaters, and when this second revival was first announced last year, I wrote that the show should also be the series that puts an end to that trend too. It was a plea in favor of originality at a time when original ideas felt about as impossible as a unicorn. I still believe this should be the end of the revival trend, but now it's because this is a classic case of the writers thinking so much about whether or not they could do something that they didn't stop to consider if they should. In the end, we got eight more episodes of Veronica Mars, but it came at a deadly cost, and now we live in a world where Logan Echolls is dead and Veronica Mars is leaving Neptune. Was it really worth it?

#Veronica Mars #Kristen Bell #Rob Thomas #HULU #Logan Echolls #news

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perfecttimeseleven · 4 years

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PERFECT TIMES ELEVEN EP. 3 TRANSCRIPT

ACT ONE

SCENE FIVE

(REMINGTON and JAY are still seated at the living room table. REMINGTON is leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands, bored. JAY is leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, frustrated.)

REMINGTON

I can’t do it. All the voices are too loud, and the “Joyce” one is quiet as shit. It’s like, I‘m listening for “Joyce”, right, but out of nowhere another voice is like “Birds!” and I’m all like “Fuck!”

JAY

(fed up, without looking at REMINGTON)

Try again. It might help if you say “Joyce” along with the voice.

REMINGTON

Can’t you demonstrate? I really won‘t judge.

JAY

(still not looking at REMINGTON)

No.

REMINGTON

C’mon, just take off your little ring there — I’m guessing that’s the accessory you use and just...do your magic.

JAY

No.

(REMINGTON lets her head fall onto the table, exasperated. Jay lifts up a foot and is about to kick her hair when REMINGTON suddenly raises her head again.)

REMINGTON

Were you about to kick my hair?

JAY

Maybe. Maybe not.

REMINGTON

Better have been maybe not. My hair is my best feature. You should get it. I mean, you have lots of good features — like girl, you’re fucking hot — but your hair is pristine.

JAY

Thanks?

REMINGTON

You know what I don’t get?

JAY

(lowering her foot)

A lot of things.

REMINGTON

(ignoring JAY)

Why animals attack me. Is that…normal? I get that it was the sign I needed help with this, but…

JAY

You’re not special. Animals sense the “perfection” in us. In the whole several-human-reincarnations-in-a-row thing. Stay away from zoos.

REMINGTON

Hm. Come on, show me how to do the thing —

JAY

(betrayed)

No!

REMINGTON

Please! I’m really stupid. You’re smart and beautiful and experienced in this and beautiful. I’ll owe you one. Plus, your sugar daddy Dr. Morello’s gonna be pissed if we spent all this time sitting here and accomplished nada.

JAY

Oh, God, please never string those words together in that order again —

REMINGTON

And then he’ll dock your pay from nothing to less than nothing.

JAY

Oh, that makes so much sense. How would he be a hypothetical sugar daddy if he doesn’t pay me? That’s the opposite —

REMINGTON

Do you want your nonexistent salary to suffer, you sadistic bastard?

JAY

If I do it, will you stop talking?

REMINGTON

Probably will.

(JAY takes off her ring and places it on the table. The moment it leaves her hand, she winces.)

JAY

(in pain)

Aghh!

REMINGTON

(shocked)

Shit. Do I call 911?

JAY

(forcefully)

No. Just...watch this. Focus...

(pauses)

Here, this voice’s word is Clara...and then...say the word if it helps...

(pauses, gripping the table with both hands)

Clara...Clara...there. I’m in.

(With a painful movement, JAY grabs her ring. The moment she touches it, she relaxes.)

JAY

You’re welcome for that. Don’t fucking say a word.

(pauses)

Your turn.

(REMINGTON takes off her bracelet and places it on the table. 6. Love is a Constant.)

VOICES

HARVEST, OCEAN, CREATE, CHANGE, FIGHT, ART, FAMILY, FREEDOM, JOYCE, TRADITION, BIRDS.

HARVEST, OCEAN, CREATE, CHANGE, FIGHT, ART, FAMILY, FREEDOM.

REMINGTON/VOICES

JOYCE.

VOICES

TRADITION, BIRDS.

HARVEST, OCEAN, CREATE, CHANGE, FIGHT, ART, FAMILY, FREEDOM.

VOICES

TRADITION, BIRDS.

HARVEST, OCEAN, CREATE, CHANGE, FIGHT, ART, FAMILY, FREEDOM.

REMINGTON/VOICES

JOYCE.

VOICES

TRADITION, BIRDS. HARVEST, OCEAN, CREATE, CHANGE, FIGHT, ART, FAMILY, FREEDOM.

REMINGTON/VOICES

JOYCE. JOYCE. JOYCE. JOYCE.

JAY

Remington? You good? Did it work?

REMINGTON

(strangely tenderly)

Joyce?

(Suddenly, REMINGTON lunges forward and hits JAY's hand. JAY drops her ring onto the table. Almost immediately, she freezes.)

JAY

(also incredibly tender, but even more shockingly because this is JAY we’re talking about)

Clara?

REMINGTON

(overjoyed)

Joyce!

JAY

(gently)

IS IT REALLY YOU? DO I DECEIVE MY MIND?

NEVER IN MY DAYS DID I THINK I WOULD FIND

A KIND OF LIFE AFTER DEATH, NEVERTHELESS YOU!

REMINGTON

Yes, Joyce! It’s me!

JAY

Clara!

REMINGTON

DO YOU RECALL THE EVENING WHEN WE FIRST MET?

JAY

OH, YES, I RECALL!

REMINGTON

AT THE GATE BETWEEN OUR GARDENS, RIGHT AT SUNSET?

AND YOU WORE THAT DRESS, CRIMSON,

JAY/REMINGTON

WITH THOSE BUTTONS LIKE FLOWERS?

REMINGTON

Yes!

JAY

I WAS TOO SHY AT FIRST TO EVEN TELL YOU MY NAME.

REMINGTON

YOU WERE SO SHY!

JAY

BUT WHEN YOU SMILED, MY FACE FLUSHED UP, AFLAME.

YOU MADE ME FEEL AT EASE.

REMINGTON/JAY

WE TALKED AND WROTE FOR HOURS.

WE’VE LIVED, WE’VE DIED, AND NOW WE’RE HERE!

NOT QUITE TOGETHER, BUT, MY DEAR,

WE CAN SEE LOVE IS A CONSTANT!

WE’VE LIVED, WE’VE DIED, AND NOW WE’RE HERE!

UNSURE WHERE THIS IS, BUT I HAVE NO FEAR

SINCE I KNOW LOVE IS A CONSTANT!

REMINGTON

I RECALL ALL THOSE SUITORS WHO’D COME TO YOUR DOOR,

AND

REMINGTON/JAY

WITH EVERY PASSING YEAR THERE’D SEEM TO BE MORE.

REMINGTON

I WAS BAFFLED WHY YOU STILL CHOSE TO SPEND YOUR AFTERNOONS

WITH ME.

JAY

OH, WELL, I WAS FORCED TO MARRY AFTER YOU PASSED.

A RICH MAN, OLD, BUT WITH MONEY AND CLASS

WE HAD NO CHILDREN. HE PASSED AWAY. I LIVED OUT THE REST OF MY DAYS LONELY.

REMINGTON/JAY

WE’VE LIVED, WE’VE DIED, AND NOW WE’RE HERE!

NOT QUITE TOGETHER, BUT, MY DEAR,

WE CAN SEE LOVE IS A CONSTANT.

WE’VE LIVED, WE’VE DIED, AND NOW WE’RE HERE!

UNSURE WHERE THIS IS, BUT I HAVE NO FEAR

SINCE I KNOW LOVE IS A CONSTANT!

LOVE IS A CONSTANT, OH,

OUR LOVE IS A CONSTANT, OH,

OUR LOVE

LOVE IS A CONSTANT, OH,

OUR LOVE IS A CONSTANT, OH,

OUR LOVE

LOVE IS A CONSTANT, OH,

OUR LOVE IS A CONSTANT, OH,

OUR LOVE

LOVE IS A CONSTANT, OH,

OUR LOVE IS A CONSTANT, OH,

OUR LOVE

REMINGTON/JAY

I’D FORGOTTEN HOW MUCH I TRULY MISS

OUR TALKS, LONG AFTERNOONS, YOUR TENDER KISS

OH, WHAT I’D GIVE TO LIVE WITH YOU AS MY WIFE.

CLOSE YOUR EYES AND EMBRACE ME, MY LOVE

FORGET THESE HIDEOUS BODIES WE’RE TRAPPED INSIDE OF

OH, HOW I’VE YEARNED FOR YOUR TOUCH ALL MY LIFE.

VOICES

OOH, LOVE IS THEIR CONSTANT...

(Someone is knocking at the door between the kitchen and the living room. It’s DAISY.)

DAISY

Remy? Jay?

(DAISY knocks again.)

VOICES

OOH, LOVE IS THEIR CONSTANT

DR. MORELLO

Are they still in there?

DAISY

I’m pretty sure. Hang on. Guys?

(DAISY knocks a couple more times, louder.)

VOICES

OOH, LOVE IS THEIR CONSTANT

(DR. MORELLO and DAISY enter to see REMINGTON and JAY embrace.)

DR. MORELLO/DAISY

Janette!/Remy fuckin’ Ratatouille!

(DR. MORELLO immediately notices JAY’s ring and REMINGTON’s bracelet on the table. He grabs JAY’s ring and shoves it in her hand. DAISY takes REMINGTON’s bracelet and does the same. JAY instantly snaps out of her trance.)

JAY

Holy —! God! Remington!

(pushing REMINGTON off of her. REMINGTON stumbles a little, almost falling off the table.)

REMINGTON

Shit!

JAY

What the hell was that?

(JAY quickly slips the ring onto her finger, evidently very embarrassed. REMINGTON regains her footing.)

REMINGTON

Eh, who cares. Let’s pick up where they left off —

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

No!

DR. MORELLO

Remington! Jay! Get down from the table immediately. Sit down!

REMINGTON

(noticing DR. MORELLO and DAISY for the first time)

Oh, shit. Hello. Sorry.

(REMINGTON and JAY make their way down back to their chairs. DAISY nudges DR. MORELLO.)

DAISY

See, I hate to say “I told you so”, but I told you so.

DR. MORELLO

Kids, what happened here?

(There’s a pause.)

REMINGTON

I think we got possessed. By dead lesbians.

DR. MORELLO

Oh.

REMINGTON

The word is most definitely Joyce now though. She’s, uh, she’s got Joyce.

JAY

You know how one of my voices is, uh, named Joyce? And how her word is Clara? She’s Clara.

REMINGTON

I guess Joyce and Clara knew each other back in the day...both in the literal and, uh, biblical sense...

DR. MORELLO

There’s really no need for profane hand motions. Go on.

REMINGTON

And then, well, we ended up in a situation when both of our accessories were off —

JAY

You mean your accessory was off and then you slapped mine out of my hand.

REMINGTON

Clara slapped it out of your hand. Anyway, then we got possessed.

DR. MORELLO

Okay.

REMINGTON

Yeah. Um...what do your big doctor brains think about that?

DR. MORELLO

I...I have never seen anything like this before...but I’m guessing the explanation is actually quite simple.

JAY/REMINGTON

What?

DR. MORELLO

The word a voice says is its most recurring thought manifesting itself as an imprint on the soul. Now, a person has to be quite important to someone if they’re, quite literally, all they think about. And for that to be something going both ways...these ladies certainly had an exceptional bond.

DAISY

Star-crossed gal pals.

DR. MORELLO

Yes. Soulmates, if you will.

JAY

Hold up. “Soulmates” as in Clara and Joyce were just one in a billion, or “soulmates” as in my soul and Remington’s soul?

DR. MORELLO

We have no way of knowing right now, but from what I think — well, this is quite a rare case, especially the fact that an echo of a previous life was able to take over the current host...I’d conclude that, yes, you are “soul-mates”, quite literally.

REMINGTON

So! How ‘bout it, eh, soulmate?

JAY

(ignoring REMINGTON)

That can’t be a real thing, can it?

REMINGTON

Only one way to find out!

DR. MORELLO

Now, seeing as you have actually uncovered some important information, you may have recreational time for the rest of the evening. I need to look deeper into this. Uh, there’s some video games in the cabinet. I’ll be in my office upstairs. Also, I was going to come in here to let you know we’re having pizza for dinner. It should be coming in half an hour.

DAISY

And I made sugar cookies.

(DR. MORELLO leaves dizzily. He looks like he has a headache.)

REMINGTON

Swell! Some quality soulmate time?

JAY

Someone get her away from me.

(DAISY looks back and forth from JAY to REMINGTON. She’s a smart kid. She knows when she should leave people alone.)

REMINGTON

Oh, I get it. You’re too good for me.

DAISY

I’m...gonna head out.

(DAISY exits.)

JAY

Listen, kid, you don’t know shit about me. I don’t know shit about you. It’s better if it stays that way. I don’t know what he’s talking about with this soulmate shit, but I do know that you don’t want to get involved with me and my life.

REMINGTON

Oh, ha. ’Cause you’ve got some kind of “issues”?

(JAY is silent.)

REMINGTON

Wow. Damn, I didn’t know someone could be this angsty in real life. With your wearing-all-black deal and e-girl hair and ear piercings and shit? Ooh, I bet you pierced them yourself with, like, the finger bone of a shark you strangled or something.

JAY

Sharks don’t have fucking fingers. And no; I got them pierced at a mall Claire’s when I was 11.

REMINGTON

(finding this funny)

Off brand, but okay —

JAY

Yeah. Fucking loved Claire’s. Still do. What about it?

(There’s a pause.)

REMINGTON

(quietly)

Nothing. Claire’s is valid. You’re a lady of fine taste.

(REMINGTON and JAY are silent for a moment.)

REMINGTON

They called our bodies “hideous”. Did you hear that?

JAY

Yeah, that was uncalled for.

(They both chuckle a bit awkwardly.)

REMINGTON

Sorry for earlier. It was my fault.

JAY

(tensing back up)

Yeah, it was.

REMINGTON

You could’ve told me listening to your voices...hurt.

(pauses)

How does that even work?

JAY

Didn’t tell you ‘cause I knew you’d ask that.

(pauses, before sighing)

I’m...in a peculiar situation. See, once the voices started to manifest in my soul’s earlier hosts, they...joined groups, or organizations. Similar to this one, but more serious. Cult-ish, almost. They’d dedicate their shitty lives to preserving the goodness of the soul to continue the line of human hosts. One organization like that a good half of my voices was involved with — it was large and thriving and would track down new hosts.

REMINGTON

That’s cool, but why does that...cause pain?

JAY

See, look past the single word a voice presents itself as and you “unlock” the memories of that person. Over time, the more you listen to them, the more they become an interactive collection of memories — almost a voice that reacts to your thoughts.

REMINGTON

So you can talk to them?

JAY

I guess.

REMINGTON

Wack.

(pauses)

Still don’t get why that causes pain.

JAY

We’re humans. We’ve got a limited view of morality that’s shaped by our society. Our perception of “good” or “bad” is probably different than what ultimately is considered by the universe as “good” enough to give a soul a human life. And...some of my voices have views of good or bad that are...incredibly outdated.

REMINGTON

(knowingly, slyly)

Ohhhh.

JAY

What?

REMINGTON

Your voices probably tell you to...ah...hee hee.

JAY

(more frustrated)

What?

REMINGTON

To, ah,

(pauses)

Pray the gay away —

JAY

God.

REMINGTON

They detect your sinful lusty thoughts about the incredibly attractive woman sitting across from you and go “oh, no, dear Janette —“

JAY

Oh God.

REMINGTON

Yeah, don’t pretend I didn’t hear that! “Oh, Janette, you mustn’t! Thinking about holding hands before marriage was already stepping on the line, but this? Oh! Unacceptable!”

JAY

No.

(pauses)

Though in a weird way, you’re on the right track.

REMINGTON

Ha!

JAY

Not like that.

(pauses)

It’s a lot of things, combined. See, I, ah,

(sucks air through teeth, evidently uncomfortable)

don’t fully identify as female, I think. I mean, I use female pronouns, but...I don’t know. I don’t fucking know because I don’t have room to figure out who I am. Don’t even have my fucking brain to myself. It started when I was a kid, but, throughout the years, it’s just gotten worse and worse and now — they just...scream at me. And it’s fucking loud. It’s so fucking loud.

(7. Bad Luck.)

JAY

IF I THINK I’M SOMETHING OTHER THAN WHAT I’VE TOLD THE WORLD I AM,

I’VE GOT TEN VOICES TELLING ME OTHERWISE.

IF I DON’T EXACTLY STRIKE MYSELF AS A WOMAN OR A MAN,

EACH ONE OF THEM DOESN’T HESITATE TO PULVERIZE

WHATEVER CONCEPTION OF MYSELF I HAVE AN INKLING OF

THAT DOESN’T FIT THEIR TINY MIND.

YOU’RE LUCKY YOU HAVEN’T FREED YOUR VOICES YET.

YOU MIGHT NOT LIKE WHAT YOU FIND!

THESE TEN SUCKERS HAVE WASTED THEIR YEARS

LIVING LIKE BEES IN A HIVE,

TRAINED TO MAINTAIN THE SOUL’S PURITY.

WHAT A TERRIBLE WAY TO STAY ALIVE!

THEY’RE STUCK UP, SHITTY PEOPLE —

REMINGTON

EVEN JOYCE?

JAY

EVEN JOYCE.

YOU KNOW, IT FUCKING SUCKS TO BE A "CHOSEN ONE"

‘CAUSE IT JUST MEANS YOU NEVER GET ANY CHOICE!

THEY SAY "JAY! YOU’RE PART OF A LEGACY!”

“JAY! WITH YOUR HELP, WE’RE GONNA GO SO FAR!”

“JAY! THIS IS YOUR DESTINY!”

“C’MON, JUST PLAY YOUR TINY ROLE IN PRESERVING THIS SOUL.”

“JAY! YOU MUST STAY CLEAN AND PURE!

A HUMAN REINCARNATION WE GOTTA GUARANTEE!"

WELL, SORRY YOU GOT A HOST SO IMMATURE —

IT WAS YOUR BAD LUCK TO GET STUCK WITH ME.

AS A KID, I’D DO ANYTHING TO REBEL.

I’D STEAL SHIT AND I WOULD LIE.

I WAS A BIT OF AN ATTENTION WHORE, IF YOU COULDN’T TELL

AND I BET YOU CAN GUESS WHY.

TO PISS OFF THE VOICES, OF COURSE, JUST FOR FUN!

I’D NEVER REALLY BEEN FORGIVING.

THEY CALLED ME "ABOMINATION" SO I GAVE THEM ONE.

BEING AT WAR WITH YOURSELF’S A NEAT WAY OF LIVING.

OH, AND WAY BACK WHEN I WAS FOUR,

MY FATHER LEFT MY MOM AND ME.

HE THOUGHT I WAS A FREAK OR A BURDEN OR A CHORE;

MOST LIKELY, SOME COMBO OF THE THREE.

MY HOUSE GOT SET ON FIRE A FEW YEARS BACK

BUT THERE’S NO TIME FOR THAT STORY.

SUMMARY: MY MOM PERISHED IN THAT ATTACK.

IT WAS DEPRESSING AND A BIT GORY,

SO EVERYONE GOES

"JAY, WE’RE SO SORRY ABOUT IT!"

WELL, I DON’T NEED YOUR BULLSHIT APOLOGY!

AND DO YOU REALLY CARE HOW I FEEL? I DOUBT IT.

DREAM ON, YOU CUCK. YOU’RE FRESH OUTTA LUCK.

"JAY! YOU DIDN’T DESERVE IT!"

WHAT’S SAD IS I DON’T AGREE

NO ONE’S GOT THE GUTS TO ADMIT IT WAS JUST

THEIR BAD LUCK TO GET STUCK WITH ME!

I’M NATURE’S BAD LUCK CHARM.

STAY AWAY FROM ME, STAY AWAY FROM HARM.

UNLESS YOU’RE LOOKING FOR YOUR LIFE TO GET WORSE,

LEAVE ME ALONE.

I’M NATURE’S BAD LUCK CHARM.

STAY AWAY FROM ME, STAY AWAY FROM HARM.

YOU GOTTA TRUST ME ON THIS; IT’S LIKE A CURSE

SO LEAVE ME ALONE.

I’M NATURE’S BAD LUCK CHARM.

STAY AWAY FROM ME, STAY AWAY FROM HARM.

UNLESS YOU WANNA END UP A CORPSE IN A HEARSE,

LEAVE ME ALONE!

I’M NATURE’S BAD LUCK CHARM.

STAY AWAY FROM ME, STAY AWAY FROM HARM.

YOU GOTTA TRUST ME ON THIS; IT’S LIKE A CURSE

SO LEAVE ME ALONE!

"JAY! YOU’RE PART OF A LEGACY!”

“JAY! WITH YOUR HELP, WE’RE GONNA GO SO FAR!”

“JAY! THIS IS YOUR DESTINY!”

“C’MON, JUST PLAY YOUR TINY ROLE IN PRESERVING THIS SOUL.”

JAY! WHAT A FUCKED UP KID! ON THAT, EVERYONE CAN AGREE!

JAY! OH, I’M SORRY YOU DID,

BUT IT WAS BAD LUCK TO GET STUCK WITH ME.

(gesturing to REMINGTON, imitating her)

"JAY! DON’T YOU WANNA HANG OUT?”

“JAY! C’MON, LET’S GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER!"

(to REMINGTON)

CAN’T YOU GET MY SIGNS OR DO I HAVE TO SHOUT

“MOVE ON BECAUSE I’M JUST A WASTE OF YOUR TIME!’

"JAY, WHY ARE YOU BEING SO RUDE?"

I’M TRYING TO PROTECT YOU! CAN’T YOU SEE?

ANYONE AND EVERYONE I LOVE IS SCREWED!

IT’S ALWAYS BAD LUCK TO GET STUCK WITH ME!

#perfect times eleven #transcript #px11 #jay mazziotta #remington long #Rupert morello #daisy noxx #musical theatre #musicals #podcast

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the-magic-lava-lamp · 4 years

Text

The ‘I hate Tony Stark’ Club

Chapter 3

Summary: Bucky & Steve, childhood best friends, have been living together for a while now after being separated at the end of high-school. Together again, they’ve been maneuvering through their twenties. And through new relationships when Steve found his way to Tony Stark, another old classmate.

While making some changes to his room, Bucky discovers a box of middle school memories. The old photos are hilarious but the real amazing finds are the old notebooks he and Steve used to pass around during class.

It’s time they rediscover being the founding members of the good ol’ ‘I hate Tony Stark’ club during their sixth grade year.

Ships: Stony, Sambucky

Word Count: 3,394

“I’d say this is going really well...”

“Bucky, we haven’t talked in thirty minutes.”

Sam leaned back into the couch and let his arms cross over him while his ‘friend’ stared helplessly at the television. After swapping stories for a good half-hour...things slowed down. The thing was, Sam wouldn’t be exaggerating if he said Bucky had serious issues with small-talk. The guy shut himself off after a few stories and retracted back into the reclusive person Sam was used to.

Though it was nowhere near as bad as it was at the beginning of their ‘friendship’. When Bucky waltzed back into Steve’s life, Sam had been willing to start a new friendship. Steve had talked about his other best friend several times and Bucky genuinely seemed great. But when they met...things kinda fell apart. The two of them just didn’t click in the way Steve had so earnestly hoped for. Bickering and long silences became the way they communicated for a good long while.

But the thing was, Sam liked Bucky from the beginning. The guy was just about one of the weirdest people he had ever met and he was deeply amused by it. And he obviously had issues with meeting new people and making friends so Bucky bickered. And Sam bickered back. A lot. It seemed to make them both a bit more comfortable, in an odd way and it just became their thing at some point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was shining into the cafe, bringing in comfortable warm light and Sam had his hand wrapped around the hottest cup of coffee in the world. He eased himself down onto his usual seat and allowed himself to relax as he waited for Steve though the moment he was having now was so good that he wouldn’t even mind waiting for him.

The wait turned out to be just over the two hour mark not that Sam really noticed. He was too busy watching the sun-spots that were reflecting on the coffee-house walls and dodging every work or real life issue that popped into his brain now & then.

Steve rushed in with that apologetic look that was always so startlingly sincere and genuine. Sam held up his hand and was about to tell him not not to worry before his friend launched into where he’d been.

“Sam, you’ll never believe who I ran into-!” He didn’t leave guessing time, Sam noticed with amusement. “Bucky Barnes! You know my old best friend? Haven’t seen the guy since what...? The middle of the summer after we graduated High School.” He chuckled, out of breath from running over.

“That’s great, man. It’s always nice to find these people again.” Sam grinned and tried not to think about his old best friend who would never step back into his life again, that was literally impossible.

“So much has happened to him, Sam-” He waved his hands and pulled out a metal chair from the closest table. “He-he, um...”

“Spit it out, Steve.” He gently slapped his arm with a grin.

“Well, I’ve told you. After we graduated Bucky was talking all about taking the year off to travel and I was going to school so...we lost touch. But Buck’s tellin’ me all about what he’d been doing.” Steve’s eyes were wide and full of wonder. Sam felt like he knew what the man was feeling.

“Bucky never ended up going to school. But, man. He’s been everywhere, Sam. He was living in his van for like two years just traveling and doing odd jobs. It sounds....amazing. He’s seen so much.” Steve was so obviously jealous. Being a top-of-the-line good kid his whole life sure had it’s set-backs. Sam had seen the adventurous side of his best friend get repressed several times in College.

“-He got in a car accident a few years back...lost his left arm.” Steve rolled his lips together and looked a tad bit pained. “Think he’s at the point where he can laugh about it but...I can tell that he’s different.”

“Well...” Sam finally got some words in. “I’m having a bit of information overload, Steve.” He chuckled. “But, I’m real glad you saw him again. I’d love to meet him sometime-”

“That’d be awesome.” Steve’s smile got impossibly wider when it returned. “Because, I invited him for coffee today, well right now actually. You’re gonna love him, really.” Steve reassured, eyes locked on the doors and Sam rolled his eyes because this was all so purely Steve.

“Of course you did.” He chuckled but found that he didn’t mind. Steve was far too eager and happy about all this for him to be annoyed. He laid his arm across the back of the couch and turned his own expression to the door when a man their age strolled in. His hair was long and dark, eerily covering much of his face as he walked inside. The look was peak ‘Skipped school to travel and live in my van’. It was as if a living stereotype walked inside. Sam would laugh if he knew the guy better.

“Hey, Buck. I’m gonna get us some coffee. This is the guy I was telling you about. Y’know, the weak runner?” Steve through Sam a wink and smacked his shoulder gently as he started off towards the counter.

Bucky let out a long breath before plopping himself down on the cushion next to Sam with something of a smirk. “So, you’re Steve’s new friend, Sam?” Emphasis on the ‘new’ Sam noticed.

“Yeah. That’d be me. Sam Wilson.” He stuck out his hand to which Bucky observed solemnly before shaking.

“Bucky Barnes. Steve’s best friend.”

The guy edged that out with a smirk.

‘Oh, man’ Sam really liked the guy. That was such a dick move. He licked his lips and nodded. “Best, huh?”

Bucky nodded, taking a bite out of the pastry Sam had ordered for Steve, curse that dude’s killer sweet tooth. It irritated Sam just the slightest bit. It’d been sitting on that tiny plate right where Steve would’ve sat had Bucky not shoved his way there. He had to have known who that chocolate croissant was for if he claimed to know Steve as well as he did.

Sam crossed his right leg over his left and threw his arm over the back of the couch. “I think he may have traded up...” He shrugged as if he were indifferent to the idea but threw on a smirk. Bucky quirked his brow in return, like he hadn’t been suspecting a comment back. Sam turned back and gave a once over before nodding again. “Oh yeah, he definitely did.”

His tone wasn’t serious, rather it was teasing.

Bucky thought it over for a few seconds before the corner of his mouth quirked and he loosened up. “Can’t compete with the history we got, pal. But it’s cute that you think so.”

He wrinkled his nose and took another bite of Steve’s food just as the blonde’s voice ordered just a bit behind them at the counter. Another shot of irritation crawled through Sam’s body.

“I don’t know about that.” He grinned, picking a loose thread off his jeans. That was his favorite kind of teasing. He was so specifically good at sounding like he just knew he was right no matter what the other person said. Mostly, because that’s what he usually thought. But even when he couldn't care less about the topic at hand, he could still recreate that tone. Flawlessly confident in himself and whatever the hell it was he was talking about. The kind of tone that was made for people like...Bucky apparently.

Because Bucky huffed, like a child pretending he wasn’t bothered but was actually really irritate and bad at masking it.

But Hell, he didn’t start it and he was just playing the game Bucky began.

Bucky rolled his eyes and rolled his lips together, it was 100% an attempt to keep himself from smiling.

Sam did no such thing in return. He just allowed a grin to spread over his face, raised his mug in mock cheer and sipped.

Bucky opened his mouth but was stopped when Steve sat down in the nearby chair, his eager boy-scout smile back on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s flirting just slowly trailed in after their bickering. He couldn’t help it, Bucky was really attractive and he got all bashful about it. But Sam never had a reason to suspect that Bucky wasn’t straight. So the flirting was more like a joke. He was ok doing it just for laughs and it usually went right over the guy’s head anyway. But finding out he’s been gay this whole time....freaked Sam out in all kinds of ways.

“We don’t like each other very much, do we?” Bucky asked, looking almost nervous.

Sam let out a small breath before pulling his usual move. He threw his arm over the back of the couch and crossed one leg over the other. It always gained something in conversations. One thing always being a comfortable closeness. Bucky shifted a little in his seat. “You know I like you, man. I wouldn’t put up with you if I didn’t. Plus, I say nice things about you all the time.” He smiled and Bucky looked amused.

“You do, don’t you?” He chuckled with a small roll of his eyes.

“Wasn’t sure about you for the longest time though.”

Bucky’s face fell fast after that comment. “Yeah...” He sighed. “I’ve been told that I’m intimidating and have a lack of social skills.”

“Who told ya that?” He teased.

“Fifth grade teacher, Seventh grade English teacher, High-school counselor, Steve sometimes but in a nice way.” He chuckled but it looked a little pained. “Couple more.” He shrugged and Sam looked to the sixth grade notebooks still on the counter.

“Hey, at least you don’t growl anymore.”

Bucky laughed. “Didn’t exactly give you a nice welcome when we met, huh?” His hand scratched under his chin as he remembered it. “Kinda started the basis for the relationship, didn’t I?” His expression was regretful as he recalled all their bickering and fighting.

Sam shook his head. “Nah, man. I-um...” He searched for the right words while he tried to wave the idiots concern away. “I thought it was really funny. You claiming Steve like a kid with his favorite toy....was pretty amusing.” He chuckled.

“You were such a little shit. I decided I liked you like the minute you spoke to me.” He snapped his fingers. Bucky looked at him with skepticism. “Maybe we didn’t click in the way Steve wanted but...” He gestured between them. “We clicked like this. And I like that about us.” He shrugged once more.

Bucky widened his eyes but tried to conceal it by rubbing the pad of his thumb against his nose. “Me too.”

Sam nodded.

Bucky nodded.

And things went quiet again. Still just as awkward as before.

“You know that I do like you, right?” Bucky suddenly turned, he seemed embarrassed about his question but Sam could tell it was important to him.

“Yeah, Buck. I know that.” He patted his arm gently.

“I did from the beginning. I just...” He trailed off, eyes falling on the notebooks again. “I grew up with Steve and only Steve as my friend. And I-” He bit his lip. “I just wanted to make sure that I was as important to him as he was to me.” He frowned.

Sam nodded, knowing Tony could probably use these words right about now too.

“So I...-I used to push other people away from Steve and from me. Guess it’s really hard to grow out of.” He sighed, rubbing his hands down his face. Sam knew Bucky was regretting ever opening his mouth.

He gently took Bucky’s wrist and pulled one of his hands away from his face.

“C’mon, Greasy. Let’s give Steve some space. We’ll go get some drinks. Just you and me, What do you say?”

Bucky peeked his eye out and pursed his lips. “You’ll pay?”

Sam physically felt his body sigh with adoration for the confusing man. He simply nodded and hooked their hands together to pull him up.

“Why are you calling me, I’m literally in the bathroom?” Bucky muttered on the other end of the phone while Sam sipped at his drink for the 100th time. He took vulnerable glimpses at the people around him and decided it made him far too uncomfortable. He cupped the phone against his cheek. “Cause you’ve been in there for a good fifteen minutes. Was it the fries?” He made a quick shot. There was a huff on the other side. “No. It’s just...nothing. I’ll be out soon.”

Sam didn’t like the way his voice sounded so he started to stand and planted his eyes on the Men’s Room door. But slowly...and not ready to go barging in on a dude he didn’t actually know that well. “This whole situation really is bothering you, huh?”

Bucky’s end remained silent for a few seconds. “It’s not just that...-I don’t know how to explain it. Just come in, last stall by the wall.” He huffed again like the whole conversation irritated him but Sam recognized the symptom.

He shoved the door open and hung up his phone. The bathroom was empty and by the time the heavy door closed...dead quiet besides the muffled music from the other room.

He shuffled over and stood at the dingy gray stall. The tiny click followed and gifted him the sight of an overwhelmed looking Bucky sitting cross-legged on the closed toilet seat. “Hey, sweetheart.” He tossed a cocky little grin and tried not to let his face show a hint of emotion.

“Hey, champ.” Sam smiled back and leaned on the side of the stall-frame. “What’s something that’s gonna ease this for you? You don’t have to tell me the reason-” His genuine sweet tone was interrupted by a panicked Bucky.

“The song that was playing in the bar before I went in here...it-uh...was playing when I got into my accident.” Bucky gestured to his left arm and Sam nodded.

“Radio or CD?” Sam asked lightly.

Bucky smiled at the floor, for once in his life someone wasn’t pushing too hard at the attack part of the anxiety. Which he couldn’t blame people for, considering it can be scary. But Sam was going with a different angle which Bucky appreciated. “CD.”

Sam hummed with delight and earned another grin from the man on the toilet. “Always good to start a friendship with a guy with great music taste.” Sam reached out his hand for a second time that day and pulled Bucky up and out into the space of the bathroom.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I can’t even listen to that song without-” He gestured to himself only to have Sam shake his head.

“It’s just a song, Buck.” He shrugged. “The world is full of millions of others just as good or better.” Sam leaned back on the sink behind him. “And I’m thinkin’ you and I share a few more, considering you’re into the oldies apparently.”

Bucky chuckled. “I’m sorry this is how your night ended up. Usually I go to Steve when this happens but I thought he needed some space.” He looked up with earnest guilt again which Sam hoped would leave him soon. “But you’re good, kid.” He put on an exaggerated New York accent and shoved him lightly.

Sam opened the door for the both of them. “I’m glad I could help, buddy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of moving dishware was doing a number on one,Tony Stark, as he sat at his kitchen counter with his chin in his palm. The glaze over his eyes was nothing short of unsettling and it thinly veiled the straight stare he had on the wall in front of him.

Behind him, Rhodey stood with a plain blue dish-towel swung over his shoulder like an old-fashioned house-wife. But no dishes were going to get done if Tony was in one of his deep moods. And the pile would just end up bothering his friend for the whole time he stayed.

“Are you remembering to breathe over there?” Rhodey gently asked over his shoulder and felt a little smile grow when Tony gave an exaggerated gasp. He turned fiercely and whipped the towel away as he took the seat across from his best friend. “So you compared it to-?”

“Pissing at a rest-stop, yeah.” Tony rolled his eyes, freeing them from their creepy still-frame. “Is it too much to ask for? A relationship that goes well for me?” He stood and started pacing, a sure sign of stress in him.

“Hey, at least this one wasn’t all your fault.” Rhodey gently smiled and enjoyed the way a funny little sense of relief filled Tony’s face. The guy could sure take a punch on himself like a champ...which was what made this situation disturbingly serious.

Rhodey could see the earnest hurt in Tony’s face.

“I don’t even want to look at him, Rhodes.” He seemed to completely deflate with that sentiment which was a worrying sign. Rhodey nodded and ushered Tony over to sit with him on the living-room couch. “Steve...was perfect on paper but-”

He cut himself off and basically fell right next to Rhodey with puppy-dog eyes.

“You want my opinion on this?” Rhodey guessed, knowing that off course he was right. Tony nodded. “You never listen to me.”

“That’s not true, Honey-Bear.” Tony gently pinched him. “I just...I’m at a loss, ok? Part of me is pissed but the other is...sympathetic?” He shrugged and looked off so Rhodey put his arm around the back of the couch.

“You’re on a break. That was a good decision, Tony.” He rolled his lips together and gave a tiny grin. “It’s gonna hurt-”

“Sometimes the pissing burns.” Tony smirked and playfully smirked when Rhodey slapped his arm.

“Get off that juvenile crap, Tony.” He shook his head, half-serious and half-joking with him. “This is your relationship. Real life, man.”

Tony bit the inside of his cheek. “The guy was kinda my friend in high-school, Rhodes. And he never opened his mouth and told me ‘Hey, you know that gay rumor? I started that. I’m sorry.’” The dilemma was clear in just the man’s posture.

“To be fair-” He spoke slowly, sure he was on treacherous water. “Steve was like eleven when he spread the rumor. How was he to know how serious it was or that it would follow you to high-school?” Rhodey tried to be impartial.

“He didn’t. I know I shouldn’t fixate on that.” Tony pursed his lips. “But the fact is...that rumor really effected my coming-out experience. I fucking hated myself for many reasons back then, honestly. But, it would have been nice not to have been conditioned to think of my sexuality as a reason for being bullied to hell.”

Rhodey gently nodded and thought on it for a minute or two. “Ok. I’ll tell you what I think.” He decided and felt a rush of sentiment for their friendship when Tony looked at him with pure trust. “I get the whole, he was just a kid and didn’t know thing.” He nodded, more to himself. “But, from what you told me and from what I know about Steve, he doesn’t seem to realize how big of a deal this is for you.”

Tony nodded, and rested his elbow on the back of the couch.

“So...he hurt you. How do you want to move on from this, Tony?” He shook his best friends arm. “That’s the important question.”

Tony processed the information for a quiet...hour or two while Rhodey stayed by his side.

The air was shockingly quiet for a man who usually spent the hours of his inner-turmoil with his mouth running & running. Rhodey would be disturbed if he didn’t just feel massive subconscious annoyance directed at one Steve Rogers. How could he help it? He would always be a bit over-protective of Tony. Just the same as Tony was overprotective of him.

The friends sighed in sync, astonishingly, and gave each other tiny smirks that read of anxiety & knowledge.

#hope this chapter is ok!#been a while lol #tony stark #stony #Steve Rogers #MCU #my fanfiction #sambucky #sam wilson #Bucky Barnes #Iron Man #captain america #the falcon #Winter Solider #rhodey

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 5 years

Text

meet me in the past part 4

A/N: This is part four to: ‘meet me in the past’. I know it’s been Awhile since the last chapter, I hope you still enjoy though! Please let me know what you think!

Summary: After Stanley Uris takes his own life, his daughter goes to find the recipients of his letters and ends up in Derry. After and incounter with IT, she ends up traveling back into the past, meeting the younger version of her dad and his friends.

warnings: cursing and mentions of suicide

tagging; @artlovingbre @cocastyle

‘Beverly, you know I love you, but you have got to stop talking about the poem for like five seconds,’ Emily groaned out, flopping back into the couch and pretending to smother herself. Beverly’s laugh carried out throughout the living room, as she tried to pluck the pillow away from Emily’s face. ‘I think it’s Bill’, Bev ignored her, and getting back to ranting about the poem.

Emily threw the pillow away from her face, letting out another loud groan. ‘I don’t think it’s Bill’, she replied. Beverly turned her head sharply, her face contorting into one of confusion. ‘ You don’t, how come? Who else could it be?’

Emily sat up, facing Beverly as best as she could, reaching out to grab the bloody card the poem as written on once more.

‘I don’t know, I just have a feeling. It might be Ben? I mean Ben is crazy about you, I’m pretty sure that he would do anything you asked of him, anything.’

Emily didn’t exactly want to spill Ben’s secret, but she was sure that if Bev would stop being so convinced it was Bill, she would realize what an amazing boy Ben was, and how good they would be together.

Besides, Emily was absolutely sure that it was Ben that had written the poem, as he had accidently told her, after Richie pushed him one to many times about his crush on Bev. They had been in the arcade, just Richie, Ben and her, though Ben and her were mostly watching Richie play. Ben was telling Emily about a romantic love story he was reading, and Richie had jokingly interrupted, saying that Ben should leave these stories to himself and then just recreate the scenes with Beverly. He had been jabbing at Ben for the entire day, and Ben had enough. He had stormed off and Emily went after him. Once outside of the arcade, Ben had admitted that he was the one that had written Bev the poem and Richie knew about it, and Ben was scared that Richie would tell on him. Emily promised to talk to Richie, which she did. Richie promised up and down that he would never tell Ben’s secret, and that he was just joking around.

Emily seemed to do that a lot here, mediate between people. The losers clearly had a lot of deep-rooted problems that showed in the way they interacted with others, and Emily felt compelled to try and help them. The losers were all amazing people, each with their flaws and plus points, and everyday Emily spend with them, she started to care about them more and more.

It was clear that the losers started to really care about her too, and it showed. Even though she was about the same age as them, they treated her like a little sister. She had met Henry, finally, even though she would have preferred to never ever met him. She had been with Eddie on their way to Barrens, where they would try and figure out a plan to find Georgie, as Bill was still obsessive over that, when they heard the word ‘fag’ being shouted at them. Eddie walked quicker, but Emily was not that smart and turned around to face the boy who called out to them. He was with three other people, Patrick, Victor and Belch, Emily would later learn.

Emily hadn’t realized the danger she was in, so she had stubbornly told Henry to ‘piss off’, as she wanted to help Eddy. Turns out that Henry was not opposed to hitting girls, and Emily had a blue eye to prove for it. Eddie had ran off, getting the others, because he knew he would never win alone against the entire Bowers gang. As the rest of the losers came as fast as they could to help Emily, Henry and the others ran off, seeing Henry’s father in his cop car driving around, shooting a deadly glare Henry’s way.

Henry dropped Emily on the ground harshly, Mike and Bill dropping beside her, already trying to access the damage. Richie, as always, couldn’t keep his mouth shut, ‘You best watch out next time fucker, mess with one of us, you mess with us all.’ Henry looked like he would come back for a second, but ultimately decided against it, walking away with the rest of his group.

Emily’s eye had hurt, but she recognized her luck, as she heard the losers story’s about what Henry had done to them. They had broken Richie’s glasses, carved into Ben stomach, called Beverly a slut every change they got, and what pissed her off the most, they rubbed Stan’s face into the snow until it bled. They were psychopaths she realized, and she hoped to god Henry would get what he deserved. It made her so mad that the losers were so helpless, they couldn’t tell their parents because what could they do, and they couldn’t tell the police either because the chief was Henry’s father.

Despite knowing how lucky she had been, Emily’s eye was killing her the first two days. Henry had gotten her good, she could barely open her eye, but thankfully Eddie had thought to put some ice on it. The swelling was down quite a bit by the next day, and it didn’t look as blue as it did the day before either. One good thing came from her altercation with Henry though. It seemed that now Stan had seen that the Bowers gang was after Emily too, he finally trusted her completely. He didn’t seem to stray away from her anymore, and was as honest to her as he as to the other losers. Bill had told her that he had never seen Stan adjust to someone as fast as he did with her, and Emily felt a little proud at that.

The bad thing about Bowers beating her up, was that the losers seemingly thought she was a wallflower that needed protection at all times. They would try and keep her away from any plans they made concerning Pennywise, and would never let her be alone, except if she had to go to the bathroom. She did her best to worm herself into conversation, and tried to participate in the plan, and the losers would mostly let her, but later they would try to minimize her role as best as they could. It frustrated Emily, but she didn’t say anything, as she knew how much this plan meant to Bill. She kept an eye on her dad, because of what he did in her time, but he had a stoic face if he wanted to, and if he thought about backing out, he didn’t show it. He didn’t help with making the plans either though, he would sit there and nod, but never suggest and idea of his own.

The plan as it stood was that the losers would distract IT, while Bill shot at it, hopefully killing IT efficiently. The details itself were still being worked out.

Emily thought that things were going well here. She had talked to Bev a lot about what happened in the future, and Bev and her would try to find a way to get her home, but Emily wasn’t in a hurry. She missed her mom of course, and her friends in Atlanta, but she knew that this would be the only change she would get to spend some more time with her father. The faster she went back to her time, the less time she would have with him.

So everything was fine really, and moments like the one she was having with Bev, laughing and gossiping on the couch, made her happy. Suddenly, a knock on the door startled her and Bev. They stopped laughing instantly, both of them more than a little paranoid after their encounters with IT. Beverly placed her hand against her lips in a sshh sign, and Emily got up quietly, going to hide in Beverly’s bedroom. This was their routine if Bev’s dad came home, or if anyone knocked on the door. Bev would open up, while Emily hid, so no one would find out that she was hidden in Beverly’s house. She left the door to Bev’s room open slightly, so she could carefully peer through it to see who was at the door. She could hear Bev’s voice carrying through the apartment, and by the sounds of it, it was just the mailman knocking on the door.

Emily tensed, a gust of wind coming from behind her caused her to shiver. She turned around, and was shocked to find the window in Beverly’s room open, leading towards the emergency exit stairs, towards the back alley. Emily closed the door softly, effectively shutting Bev’s voice out. She still didn’t want anyone to know she was here. If the mailman would find out, he might tell Bev’s dad, and neither of them wanted that.

She walked over to the window slowly, curiosity killed the cat they always say, and curiosity may be Emily’s greatest weakness. She peered out of the window, but saw nothing. Not a thing. Shrugging Emily pulled back, closing the window with soft thud. She was just convincing herself that she must have accidently opened it because she wanted some air, as she suddenly felt an intense pain on the side of her head. She felt to the ground and groaned, her hand instantly reaching up to the side where she felt a warm liquid. She was bleeding. She looked up to see The clown, grinning devilish at her, before her started to contorted into something else. In front her, her father now stood. Not the young Stan, but the adult one. Her father who had killed himself.

She knew logically, that this wasn’t her real father, he couldn’t be, because he was dead, but all logic flew out of the window the moment Emily laid eyes on him. ‘Dad’, she croaked out, forgetting for a second why she was hiding in Beverly’s room. IT dad looked at her, but didn’t step forward, or did anything to help Emily get up. Emily scrambled up against the wall, her hand cradling the wound, but she didn’t take her eyes of her father for even a split second. IT dad bowed down now, grabbing Emily’s ankle, dragging her across the floor towards him. It seemed as if the touch made Emily’s brain work again, as she realized that this wasn’t her dad, but Pennywise.

She screamed, loudly, and Beverly came crashing into the room. She dove forward, grabbing Emily by the arms and dragging her in the opposite direction of pennywise. He was still in her dad’s form, and he didn’t let go, no matter how hard Beverly pulled. Suddenly he smirked, something Emily had never seen him do, he either smiled genuinely, or he didn’t smile at all. ‘Are you just as much of a coward as I was Emily’? He asked. Emily was shocked, he sounded just like her real father. It caused anger to course through Emily’s body, spreading like a wildfire, and she pulled her leg back, and stomped on his face. Out of shock IT let her go, and he turned back into a clown instantly. Beverly dragged her back with her; closing her bedroom door with a loud bang.

‘My dad wasn’t a coward’, Emily screamed, thought she wasn’t sure if IT was still in the room.

‘Oh god Emily, we’ve got to get you to a hospital.’ Beverly cried out, and without taking their eyes off the door, the two girls stumbled back out of the apartment.

She didn’t need to go the hospital eventually. As the girls were riding Bev’s bike towards the hospital, the girls crossed paths with Ben and Mike, who had been on their way to them. As soon as they saw Emily and her head bleeding, they ushered the girls towards Stan’s house.

Mike, ever the voice reason, told them that it would be to hard to take Emily too the hospital, because questions would be asked, they would need an explanation that they didn’t have, and it may result in Emily’s parents being called. Beverly still wanted her to go the hospital, but Emily accepted that Mike was right. They would want to contact her family, and though the losers understood that her parents were a sensitive subject, the nurses and doctors at the hospitals undoubtably not be so understanding.

Instead of going to the hospital, Emily chose to go over to Stan’s house, where the others were gathered. It seemed that she getting beat up quite a lot as of late. Beverly, Mike, Ben and herself rang Stan’s door, and Emily hoped to that he would open soon, cause she wasn’t sure how long she would still be able to stand on her legs. Luckily Stan opened it as soon as the bell had rang. It seemed like his parents weren’t home. Emily was glad, she wasn’t particularly close with her grandparents, as they lived far away from her. Stan gasped as he saw Emily wobbling on her knees. He instantly pulled her inside of his house, wrapping her one arm around his shoulder, Mike doing the same to her other side, and guiding her up the stairs towards his bedroom, where everyone else was. Bill, Eddie and Richie jumped up once they all came in, hastily making room for her on the bed by shoving all the supplies on the side.

Mike and Stan carefully sat her down, Eddie taking Mike’s place beside her to look at her wound. He wouldn’t touch it, and he was squeamish because of the blood. ‘You really should become a doctor you know’, Emily laughed, but Eddie was to focused on the wound to respond. ‘Yep, definitely a doctor in progress’, she said absentmindedly once more. ‘Bev, go get towels and water, and bandages hurry’, Eddie barked out instructions, and Bev hurriedly went to get the items. Once she got back Eddie wasted no time in dipping the towel into the freezing water Bev had brought with her, before pressing it to Emily’s wound.

She hissed, and tried to get away from the sensations, but Stan was too much in her way for her to be able to move. Instead she reached out with her hand, trying that way to get rid of the excruciating pain, but once more Stan stopped her. He grabbed her wrist muttering; ‘let him, he knows what he’s doing.’

It reminded Emily of the time she had nearly been hit by a car, her mother dragged her backwards just in time, but Emily had sliced her knee open and had to have stitches. Her father had been called then too, and while her mother was crying and panicking, he remained calm and had held Emily’s hand as the doctor stitched her up. She had been crying, not because she was in pain, but because she was afraid of the doctor, and her father had told her the story of how him and her mother met to distract her.

It had worked of course. Only later did she realize that Stan must have been just as worried as her mom, only he did a better job of hiding it. Emily couldn’t quite remember, but she was pretty sure that they filled a lawsuit against the driver who had just taken off without checking if she was alright.

It did the trick now too, by the time Emily zoned back in, Eddie finished placing the last bandage on her head, looking satisfied with the result. ‘You get beat up a lot huh?’ Richie joked, and Emily and the others started laughing. Everyone expect Bill. ‘T-t-this stops n-n-now’, he said, getting up from his spot in the floor, already walking towards the door. ‘Bill, where are you going?’ Bev asked, getting up aswell.

‘To k-k-kill IT. My b-b-brother is down t-t-there, I h-h-have to h-h-help him. IT k-k-keeps hurting us b-b-because we l-l-let him, s-s-so I’m g-g-going a-a-after him n-n-now, and t-t-this time h-h-he won’t g-g-get away.’ Bill practically ran out of the room, the rest waiting half a second before scrambling up all the same. Everyone ran towards their bikes, Emily getting up behind Bev, as she had been in no condition to ride a bike on her own. Bill was an idiot, Emily thought bitterly as they rode towards the only place they could think Bill might have gone, the Neibolt house.

Bill was an idiot, the plan is even finished yet.

The bike came to a screeching halt in front of the house, looking menacing, seemingly looming over the losers club, and Emily gulped. She wasn’t too keen of getting into that house. ‘Bill wait’, Ben called out, and at the sound of his voice bill turned around.

‘The plan isn’t ready yet,’ Richie finished, skipping from one leg to the other, he seemed as nervous as Emily felt.

‘Look you don’t have to go in with me’, Bill said, ‘but what happens if another Georgie goes missing? Or another Betty, or Ed Corcoran? Are you just gonna pretend like it’s happening like the rest of this stupid town? Cause I can’t. I go home and all I see is that Georgie isn’t there. His clothes, his toys, even his stupid stuffed animals, but not him. So for me, walking into this house is easier than walking into my own.’ Bill looked so determined as he said the words, it made Emily determined too. Fuck this clown, they were going to beat him.

‘Wow’, Richie breathed out, ‘he didn’t stutter once’.

Emily took a step forward, to join Bill inside the house, but Ben’s hand stopped her. ‘No’, he said, ‘not you.’

Emily frowned at him. ‘Why not me?’ She asked, looking around the group questioningly. They looked around nervously, not meeting her eye. It wasn’t like she wanted to go into the house. She was so scared, but these people were her friends, even family, literally. And for family, there was nothing that she wouldn’t do.

‘Someone has to be on lookout’, Stan said suddenly, ‘I’ll wait with you.’ Emily frowned, her dad looked absolutely mortified with idea of going inside the house , like he would rather kill himself than go in there. ‘W-w-who wants to s-s-stay out here?’ Bill asked and in an instant everyone except Beverly raised their hands.

They decided to let the straws decide, whoever got the shortest one had to go into the house, though Bill already said he would go in no matter what. Emily isn’t even allowed to pick a straw, she had to stay out there no matter what. The losers said it was because she was injured, but she knew it was because they didn’t want her to be in danger, though she couldn’t really argue, she was hurt, so she kept quite as the others picked their straws.

Stan’s face seemingly gives nothing away as he picked a straw, but Emily had known her father long enough to be able to tell that he was ecstatic as he picked a straw that was definitely not the shortest. Richie and Eddie picked the shortest ones, and Eddie didn’t even complain, though Emily would feel how scared all three boys were .

She wanted to say something, to wish them good luck, but she couldn’t think of anything to say, and before she could, they were already inside the house. Stan started crying, hiding his face away in Mike’s shoulder. ‘ I can’t go in that house Mike’, he sobbed. ‘I just can’t.’ It was strange, to see her father so scared and crying, because Emily had almost never seen her dad cry. The group that was still outside huddled together, and Emily gripped Stan’s arm and Ben’s wrist tightly. They stayed in their cocoon of warmth for a while, until they heard screaming from inside the house.

They broke apart quickly, all looking at the front door, hoping against all hope that Bill, Eddie and Richie would run out completely unharmed, but the door doesn’t budge. ‘We have to go in there’, Emily heard her own voice say, even though she didn’t realize she was about to say something. Beverly nodded, and because she did, Ben did too. Mike and Stan seemed like they wanted to say something, but Bev and Emily had already ran into the house, there was no time for hesitations, their friends were in trouble.

Emily could feel her heartbeat pounding so fast it’s hard to focus on anything else, but then she hears Richie breath out; ‘Eddie’, and she and Bev ran towards the sound. In her peripheral vision she could see that Ben, Stan and Mike were behind them, but she didn’t turn to get a better look. Bev froze in front of her, and when Emily looked up, she understood why. Eddie was sitting down, cradling his arm as it was clearly broken, over his face was white glove that belonged to IT, who was turned with his back towards him, yelling at Bill and Richie who stood on the opposite side of the room.

‘It was real enough for Georgie’, IT cackled, and he jumped forward towards Richie and Bill. Bev didn’t hesitate a second, she plunged an iron rod, straight into his eyes, and then jumped beside him towards Eddie. Bill and Richie also jumped forward, trying to get Eddie up and out of the door. There is a second of absolute silent, and then the screaming of the losers began. Emily rans forward into the room some more, Ben beside her, and Mike and Stan behind him. She wanted to help, but she didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t think straight in her gaze of panic.

IT turned around, going after Eddie once more, but then leaned back at the last minute, his menacing laugh filling the room. He then turned towards the group still at the door, slicing Ben’s stomach so fast nobody has time to respond. Emily dropped down on her knees, taking her jacket of and pressing it into Ben’s stomach, refusing to give pennywise a second of her time when Ben needed her.

It seemed that IT left the room then, as suddenly Bev was beside her, pushing everyone out, Bill and Mike carrying Eddie outside of the house. The second fresh air hit Emily, she wanted to take a five year nap, she was pretty sure that this encounter cost her at least 10 years of her life. The losers didn’t pause though, so she didn’t either, jumping back on Stan’s bike, not even thinking about it, and neither did Stan as they paddle away as fast as humanly possible.

Watching Eddie get taking away by his pathetic excuse of a mother was painful, and Emily wanted to help him, but she was once again rendered silent as his mother insulted each one of the losers, before grabbing him and taking him to the hospital. It was good Eddie was getting treatment though, Emily hoped the pain wasn’t to bad and if it was, she hoped it would get better soon.

As soon as the car was out of their sight, Bill turned back towards the group.

‘I-I-I saw the w-w-well, w-w-we know w-w-where it is now. Next t-t-time we’ll b-b-be better p-p-prepared.’ He said, so sure of his case, even though Eddie and Ben were badly injured. Emily looked up at Ben, who was indeed bleeding a lot, it made her worried, but for some reason she was scared to interrupt the atmosphere that hung around the group, she didn’t want to be the target of rage that was spreading across the room. Nobody responded to his words.

‘N-n-next time’, Bill tried again, but this time he was interrupted by Stan.

‘No, no next time Bill’. He screamed, his eyebrows set in a frown. ‘You’re insane.’

‘What do you mean no next time’? Emily asked, her fist clenching together.

‘I mean that I don’t wanna die, I would like to live. I’m never going back into that house’, Stan bristled.

‘Your friends need you,’ she screamed back to Stan. ‘ You’re just gonna leave them to deal with this on their own? Already? You are so different than I thought you were.’

Stan’s frown deepened. ‘You’ve barely known me for more than a week, you don’t know me at all.’

‘Clearly not, you know, maybe IT was right, maybe my father is a coward.’ Emily spat out, she was so mad. To her, her dad had seem invincible, and strong, he was her hero, and she looked up to him. But he wasn’t brave, or a hero. He was a coward, who left his friends to deal with all the problems. He didn’t deserve her adoration, because he hadn’t even written his own daughter a letter, because apparently she didn’t deserve and explanation.

Emily was furious at Stan for all sorts of reason, but most importantly, because she still loved him so much despite of all of this. She still wanted to go birdwatching with him, she still wanted make puzzles with him, she still wanted to hear him and his mother happily chatting in the kitchen while she made her homework in the other room.

She thought, stupidly, that if she saw her dad here, being brave and trying to protect his friends, that it would stop the conflict inside of her. Regardless of it being stupid, he was doing the opposite of that, and because of it, the conflict of love and hate inside of Emily just seemed to grow stronger, tearing her apart even more.

‘Emily’, Bev spoke up worriedly, she clearly saw where this was going. She wanted to help Emily, but Emily was to mad to think twice about what she was saying.

‘What does your father even have to do with this’? Stan asked, his hands waving as if to prove his point.

‘Because you are my father you dumb asshole’, Emily bellowed. Bev slapped her arm, trying to get her to stop talking, but it was already too late. The words were out in the open already. She vaguely heard Stan’s sharp intake of breath. Emily started heaving, heavy sobs rattling her entire body. She saw Stan’s face, looking so shocked, he had no idea what to even say. It was then that Emily realized what she had just did. She hesitated for another second, before turning around on her heels, and running like IT was after her.

‘Emily’, she could hear Beverly call after her, but Emily didn’t stop. She couldn’t believe how stupid she had been. She had just spilled her secret to Stan and now she would have nowhere to go. She ran until she physically couldn’t anymore, and then she dropped to her knees in the grass, her body still heaving with sobs.

‘Emily’, she heard Bev say once more, and that was weird, considering Emily had been running as fast as she could. As she looked behind her, It was clear that it wasn’t Bev, but instead IT stood directly behind her. His orange eyes were the last thing she saw, before she fell back on the grass, passed out.

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