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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Irredeemable my foot

Hi everyone, I decided to write a fic centered on Chloe; is a sugar fic. I always liked her character. And I would like to dedicate this fic to Sienna, aka @catsandfanfic. Happy 14th birthday. Her birthday is March 6th. In my time zone it’s March 6 so hopefully you’re not getting this too early. I hope your birthday is amazing, and I really hope you enjoy this fic; i heard you like Maribat. And @justdyingontheinside gives you a shout out on your special day.

Chloe knew how everyone expected it to go. The blond could admit… She was spoiled, selfish, petty, and insecure, with mommy issues galore.

But she wasn’t a villain. Yet she could understand why people thought she’d go down like one.

Nevertheless, for people to think she’d ever willingly work for Hawkmoth; a man who ruthlessly used his power to corrupt the hearts and minds of innocents (like her father, mother, Adrien, Sabrina, and everyone else in Paris) and use them to further his own agenda… was too much.

The people who believed that was basically saying Chloe was irredeemable; that there was no way she could ever be anything more than what she was. Like she couldn’t grow. Like she couldn’t better herself; like everyone in the world had that ability except for her. She was fourteen-years-old.

Only fifteen!

Why was it so easy to write her off?

Chloe Bourgeois was a bully, not a freaking serial killer.

She wasn’t a Supervillain. However, Chloe could admit, that for one brief moment when she realized she was passed over yet again by Ladybug for the chance to help save the day, hurt and anger had filled her. That if Hawkmoth had sent a butterfly after her that maybe… MAYBE for a second, she’d take his offer.

At least, he thought she could be of some use.

It wasn’t fair, Chloe remembered stomping her foot as jealously filled her. Why didn’t Ladybug pick her? She was so much better than all those other stupid heroes! So much better than that mangy Chat Noir even. Queen Bee would be a much better partner. If she could just prove it!

And that suddenly it was like a lightbulb went off above her head, the kind you only see in cartoons. A smile spread over her face.

The dark butterfly that was headed her way suddenly changed its course.

Yes, Chloe had thought, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll prove it. I’ll show them all. I’m a hero. And I’m going to save everyone!

She could be better.

She would be better.

(And once she did, maybe Ladybug would think so too)

Nevertheless, even if Ladybug never knew. Chloe would. She would know she did the right thing because it was the right thing to do; no other reason. That would be enough for her. Even if it meant she’d never be Queen Bee again.

Chloe was going to prove she was a hero after all. With or without the mask or magical powers.

The world thought she wasn’t redeemable. Well, she was going to show the world what a real redemption arc looked like.

The first thing needed to do was plan. Hawkmoth was too strong. He needed to be brought down fast before he becomes unbeatable. Ladybug was perfect but she was still just a kid. She needed more help.

Outside help. Chloe knew there were other superheroes out there. The Avengers. The flash and his team in central city. Superman and his superfam in Metropolis. The Teen Titans. The Justice League. But to beat Hawkmoth would take stealth. It took intelligence. And people used to dealing with total nutjobs in costumes. Heroes who could help finally crack the mystery of who Hawkmoth was.

Paris needs the Batfamily.

Which means Chloe was going to Gotham. But she wouldn’t go alone. She needed an Ally, or preferably Allies.

Chloe decided to figure out who was who on the best board of life.

The first was easy Ladybug was the White King; a true, just, and kick-butt hero. Chloe made herself the Queen; because whether Ladybug knew it or not, Chloe had just become her strongest protector. (She only just manage to argue against making Chat Noir a pawn; instead named him a Knight.) Sabrina, though had some major insecurity, was a good friend of Chloe. She was smart enough not to fall for Lila’s fool’s gold.

Sabrina had learned at the heel of her father when it came to detective work. She had mastered computers thanks to her mother who was a high-level computer programmer. She knew self-defense since her parents shoved her into Karate when she was younger. The redheaded was organized to the point of being OCD. She was loyal to a fault.

With a little confidence, Sabrina could be a real asset to Team Ladybug. And she would be. Chloe just needed to show that she trusted the redhead, believed in her.

Chloe wished she could bring Adrien in but he was a civilian with the backbone of a twizzler. He was too forgiving and to sheltered from the real world. It had worked in her benefit before, otherwise, he’d have dropped her as a friend a long time ago. But things had changed. Chloe needed friends who would stand up against her not just threatened to not be her friend anymore. It wouldn’t do any good in the long run after all.

Hawkmoth was the Black king; pure evil. The Peacock shrew was his Queen. And, Chloe decided, Lila was his bishop. The sausage haired was a manipulative, rancid, liar. And from what she had seen of Lila’s akumatization, the Italian girl was fully in control of her actions. Which meant Lila was working with Hawkmoth willingly.

And since Lila was the only bad guy she could give a real name for, Chloe decided she would be the key to bringing down Hawkmoth.

Thus Lila Rossi became public enemy number one.

Lila was dangerous in a way hawkmoth couldn’t be. She lied and twisted minds with no powers whatsoever. She turned nearly all of Bustier’s class into untrustworthy minions. They should’ve been White; on the side of good. But they had proven to be disloyal and easily influenced. The class couldn’t be trusted.

They had turned against the one person even Chloe had a hard time not deeming a Saint.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chloe strongly disliked the girl, mostly out of envy. The blond didn’t need therapy to know that she wanted what the bluenette had; a mom that adored her, a dad that actually tried to help and not just throw money at any situation, sheer talent, and pretty much the instant admiration of almost anyone she met.

However, she was also strong and fierce. Marinette was a force of good hard to reckoned with. Chloe needed all the help she could get.

Which meant recruiting Dupain-Cheng for the cause.

That might prove harder than getting Batman to help out.

When Chloe and Sabrina showed up at the bakery and politely asked to speak with Marinette, she was given a suspicious look by Marinette’s mother (Sabel or something, Chloe couldn’t remember). Still, she called her daughter downstairs.

Marinette walked into with a bright happy smile that quickly faded when she saw Chloe.

“We need to talk, Marinette,” Chloe forced herself to say the other girl’s first name. “Its an emergency.” Sabrina nudged her. “Please.”

It was obviously the shock of Chloe saying please that got Marinette to take them up to her bedroom.

Marinette tried her best to smile, “So what’ s the emerg-” Chloe cut her off.

“We’re going to Gotham to recruit Batman and his fam,” Chloe told her. “To help Ladybug bring down HawkLoser. You coming or not.”

The bluenette just blinked.

Sabrina winced at her best friend’s lack of tact, “What Chloe is trying to say is… We could really use your help. Ladybug could use your help. Everyone likes you. You can convince Batman to come.”

“…Why?” Marinette asked after a moment of silence.

“Ladybug needs help!” Chloe told her. “Chat Noir throws tantrums all the time. Hawkmoth has the Peacock and Lila at his deposal. Ladybug hasn’t called in Rena or Caraprace in almost a year, so there has to be a reason for that. She needs help! She needs us!”

The Asian girl nodded slowly, “I mean, why come to me? Why help Ladybug like this?”

Chloe frowned, “Because you always do what’s right; the good, noble thing even if it’s utterly ridiculous for you to do so. I’m doing this, helping, Ladybug, because she needs help. I’m a hero, no matter what anyone says or thinks. And Heroes help.”

The bluenette looked at the two girls. They had been a thorn in her side for years. But she always thought they could change. She believed they could. And coming to her, Chloe archenemy, was proof that they were changing. “What’s the plan?”

The blond smiled. “Sabrina managed to outline the patrol routes for the batfamily.”

“They switch who does what route but there is a predictability to it,” Sabrina added. “The idea is to force a confrontation. I’ve gathered evidence to show them so they could understand the gravity.”

“My job is to get us,” Chloe said. “You have plenty of time to come up with one of Disney motivational speeches to get them on board. We leave for Gotham tomorrow.”

It was after midnight. Three girls stood on top of an old condemned building in the heart of Gotham; dressed in black, shivering from the cold.

“By my calculations,” Sabrina said. She held a computer under her arm. “At least two of the bats should be by monitoring the area during this hour.”

“And we’re sure this is going to work?” Marinette asked.

Chloe smirked, “Oh yeah.” She took a deep breath and screamed. “AHHHHHHHH!! Help!! Help! Someone please!!” She gave a fake sob and fell to the ground; causing Marinette to jump back in shock. She looked up at Marinette and Sabrina with a wide grin on her face, “How was that?”

“Become an actress,” Marinette told her. “Let me design the dress you wear when you accept the Oscar.”

There were two loud thuds behind.

“What’s going on?” A tall hero they recognized as Nightwing asked.

“We heard screams,” Red Robin stated.

“Its go time,” Chloe told them as she got up.

Sabrina nodded firmly as she opened up the laptop and started quickly.

Marinette smiled at the heroes, “Hi. My name is Marinette. This is Sabrina and Chloe,” She motioned to her friends. “We’ve come from Paris to seek the aid of Batman to stop a supervillain that has been terrorizing our city.”

Red Robin stepped forward, “A supervillain? In Paris?”

“We haven’t heard anything about it,” Nightwing said. “We know there are heroes there that takedown small-time villain, But nothing too damaging that we’ve seen.”

“Hawkmoth possesses people,” Chloe hissed. “Turns them into monsters. Turns kids into monsters. Literal Babies into monsters. A girl who can control the weather and could end the world. Another who absorbed energy from people so she could travel back in time. Until the people she steals energy from will freeze and slowly disappear. A man with the power of the Egyptian gods and tried to revive the dead. A villain who could trap people in pictures. Another that can bring people the worst nightmares to life. How about one that caused most of the citizens of the city of Paris to drown. One man caused all that happened. Our city gets destroyed over and over again. People die over and over again. Hawkmoth is behind it all.”

Sabrina turned her laptop to them, and show the video they clipped together. “This is a news real, videos sent from regular smartphones.” The video showed proof of the fights, the monsters, the deaths, the damages, the terror. “Check any new channel centered in Paris. It will show you. This. IS. Real.”

Marinette fought the urge not to tremble as she remembered every villain she fought. “Ladybug fixes the damage the akuma causes; including bringing people back to life. But the people who die still remember. Ladybug can’t do this alone anymore. Even the help of Chat Noir isn’t enough. If Hawkmoth gets what he wants, it could be the end of everything and everyone.” It hadn’t been for a long time, she thought bitterly. Chat Noir loved the glamor and excitement of being a hero but it was like he never really felt the burden of the weight of Paris on his shoulders like she did. To him, it was all game. Or some stupid action movie. And he was too busy trying to get the girl to realize that they might not be able to save the day.

The bluenette looked hard at the heroes, “We need help. I know it’s not your city. I know you don’ have to care. I know you have your own villains and problems.” Tears burned in her eyes. “But we wouldn’t be here if we had other options; if we could handle it by ourselves. So We’re asking anyway. Will you please help us?”

Two identical horrified looks were on the batkids’ faces. Dick and Tim looked at the three kids, thousands of miles away from home, in the middle of the most dangerous city in the world, at night, to beg for help against what sounded like an undeniable monster. The teen girls were scared, near hopeless, and willing to ask for help from Batman and his family, heroes most civilians were too scared to even cross paths with.

Their situation was dire. Direr than the risk of being three, alone, beautiful, teenage girls in Gotham.

The other bats had been listening and or watching the conversation and were equally horrified. But that quickly gave way to fury.

“Red Robin, I want the intel off Sabrina’s computer,” Batman growled. “Oracle, I want everything you can find on Hawkmoth. We’ll start preparing to leave for Paris”

“On it,” Barabra stated. “I also brought up info on the girls. They’re all clean. Sabrina’s dad a cop. Marinette’s an all-star student, who has quite a few famous friends. Chloe’s the daughter of the Style Queen and the Mayor of Paris.”

“I get to kill Hawkmoth, right, B-man?” Jason asked. “I mean, I’m watching a video where he turned a crying baby who literally just wanted a lollipop into Gigantitan and used him to terrorize people. That’s gotta be a free pass on the killing thing.”

There was silence. No answer from Batman.

“Holy shit, are you considering it?” Jason asked stunned. “Kids really are your Achilles’ heel.”

Nightwing nodded. Batman always had a soft spot for kids. But even Dick was considering beating Hawkmoth to death. “Batman has agreed to help.” He told the girls who visibly sighed in relief as weight had come off them.

“May I use your laptop?” Tim asked the redhead. Sabrina nodded quickly and handed it over.

Nightwing observed the girls, “What else can you tell us about Hawkmoth?”

“No one knows his identity, obviously?” Chloe rolled her eyes. “His Allies include another villain named Mayura, identity unknown. And a civilian named Lila Rossi.”

Sabrina still couldn’t believe Lila stooped so low. “We have evidence that she has been willingly working with the known terrorist Hawkmoth and has allowed herself to be akumatized multiple times.” She pushed up her glasses. “She’s in our class. She has been lying and causing emotional distress to multiple students, increasing Akumas.” Lila had always caused the near break up of Ivan and Mylene, Nino and Alya, and for several friendships to nearly be destroyed. It was awful. “We think she will be the best way to finally snuffing out the villain. She has some connection to him we’re trying to figure out.”

“Suspects?” Damian asked in comms. “Stop being obtuse. We need to know who they suspect.”

“Robin, you shouldn’t be on the comms,” Batman reprimanded. “It’s your day off. Relax.”

Tim nodded, “Any leads on Hawkmoth’s identity.”

“Just one,” Marinette admitted. “A man named Gabriel Agreste. But we ruled him out after he was akumartized.”

Chloe snorted, “That’s stupid.” She said. “If Ladybug’s cure can heal the damage of an akuma, including what’s inflicting to her and that Alley Chat; there’s no logical reason, Hawkmoth can’t use his own powers on himself. To think otherwise, would be ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.”

Sabrina agreed, “Or he could’ve gotten Mayura to use it. I mean Ladybug and Chat Noir switched before. Why couldn’t they?”

Red Robin nodded, “That’s a good point. We’ll investigate him further.” He told them. “How much are you involved?”

The girls shared a look. Chloe stepped forward proudly, “I was the Hero, Queen Bee.”

“No!” Marinette said strongly. “She is the Hero Queen Bee; a loyal friend and ally of Ladybug.” She swallowed hard as she fought the nervousness. Tikki and her had talked about what would happen next. Chloe had proven herself as far as two were considered. The blond deserved a real chance to prove she what type of hero she could be.

Marinette took a deep breath and reached into her bag and pulled out a necklace and a hair comb that Chloe recognized instantly. A series of emotions flashed over the blonde’s face; recognition, understanding, disbelief, envy, embarrassment, frustration, acceptance, and then finally a look of admiration.

“Here,” She handed the comb to Chloe and the necklace to Sabrina. The kawami’s floated out.

“My queen,” Pollen purred as she landed on Chloe’s shoulder. The blonde looked ready to cry.

Trixx spun around Sabrina’s head, “Kit. I have new Kitt!”

The batfamily was just confused.

Marinette straightens up, “Chloe for your show of loyalty, for your dedication to justice, and for your willingness to help from shadows; I name you an official and permanent member of the miraculous team. Keep moving forward. Keeping bettering yourself. I believe in you. And I welcome Queen Bee back.”

“Wha…” Nightwing said only to be cut off by Chloe

She yelled, “Pollen, Buzz On!" And before they’re eyes, she transformed into the hero Queen Bee. “Eat your heart out, boys,” Chloe smirked at the stunned heroes.

Marinette giggled. She focused on Sabrina who now realized exactly what was about to happen. “Sabrina, when Chloe brought you, I didn’t know what to expect. It turned out you had spent months researching and gathering evidence. I didn’t there was proof Lila was working with Hawkmoth willingly, you did. You saw through the lies and deception to find the truth despite the danger it could bring you. Which why I give you the kwami of Illusion.”

Sabrina shakily put on the necklace. Trixx patted her head, “Now say, Trisx let's pounce.” The redhead did as she was told as was instantly transformed into a fox themed hero. Unlike Alya, Sabrina’s look was grey and a startling silver. It was more like an actual combat uniform.

“Truth is neither right nor wrong,” Sabrina stated. “It's not good or evil. It's not light or dark. Truth just is. I am Renarde Gris.”

Marinette smiled and then said, “Tikki, Spots on.” And was transformed into Ladybug. Her suit was different; darker and better armored. “I am Ladybug.” She told the bats. “And I thank you for help.”

Nightwing opened and closed his mouth repeatedly.

Red Robin just pinched his nose, “Did you just make a civilian into a superhero just like that?”

Ladybug tilted her head innocently, “Why? Isn’t that how batman got you?”

Jason snorted, “She ain’t lying.”

“You were trained before going into the field,” Batman corrected. “You all were. But let’s focus, Ladybug is a child!”

“You’re just a kid,” Nightwing said. “You’ll all just kids.”

Sabrina crossed her arms, “Weren’t you the first Robin? And didn’t you start at like ten-years-old? At least we’re teenagers.”

“And we don’t dress like traffic lights!” Marinette and Chloe snapped together, to their surprise, and then high-fived with a laugh.

Red Robin examined Ladybug in a new light, “You’ve been protective Paris for three years.”

“Alone?” Damian growled in their ears. “Father, you said I was too young. I am the same age as them. I demand to be treated befitting of my status.”

Ladybug shrugged, “The current Robin has protected Gotham on his own many times. He’s even led Teen Titans on missions. He has proven as I have that age is meaningless in the pursuit of justice. “

Nightwing shook his head, “You’re just kids. Robin is just a kid.”

“Tell me, what bothers you more?” She asked. “The line of children that followed in your footsteps. Or that current Robin is better than you ever were.”

“…I love her.” Damian said. “Father, I love her and I will marry her.” It went quiet. “Red Robin, tell her of my affections. Superboy wants Chloe’s number. Spiderman requests Sabrina’s. I still don’t understand, why, you thought a ‘kids’ game night’ was necessary, father?”

Batman just sighed.

Tim cleared his throat, “Robin would like to, uh, court you.” He said. “Superboy would like Queen Bee’s phone number.” He could wait to tell Conner that Jon had a crush. “Spiderman request Renarde Gris’.”

The girls all blushed prettily.

“Then he can hero up and ask me himself,” Sabrina smirked in a way that made Chloe proud.

“Same,” Marinette said with a smile. Chloe nodded in agreement.

“…We’re on our way,” Damian said into the comms.

The sigh that answered that statement clearly belonged to Bruce.

#ml fic #marinette dupain cheng #ml salt #Chloe deserves better #chloe bourgeois #A little bit of Adrien Salt #maribat #daminette

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antigoneidk · 4 years

Note

can you write a blurb about stealing tom’s hoody and then he find s out and think its cute

Green hoodie|t.h.

A/N : thank you so much for your request babyy and sorry for being late but the stuff that are happening in this world right now are unbelievable. I don't want to be boring but we all know that we have to stop this kind of shit some people think they're allowed to do. Is not their job to take a man's life like that.

Warning : fluff,fluff,fluff

You spent the other night on your boyfriend's house,after an wonderful date the two of you had. You went bowling,with you winning and him pretending that he actually let you win. Just like teenage boy. Either way you wanted to make him dinner,take care of him and so you did at his place,just like he desired. The dark night found you sleeping in his arms,the moon hitting your face from the huge window.

You woke up at the couch,with a pillow in your arms that smelled like him. You squeezed more before letting a horrible sound come through your mouth. You sat up,stretching. Every bone inside you cracked,leaving you feeling how much of an grandma you were.

A green hoodie was lying at the edge of the couch. You had a prepared speech exclusive for yourself,about how you shouldn't steal any of his hoodies anymore. It wasn't yours,he gave his money to buy it for him,it was big for you-

You grabbed and putted on your body. The warmth and his body smell gave you enough comfort. You wrapped yourself with your hands and closed your eyes and suddenly it felt like he was next to you,hugging you. Even in your imagination,he had the power to wake the butterflies inside you and making the dance all over.

You were now walking towards the kitchen. Two cups of tea were on the table,one of them half empty,probably his. You took the other one in your hands,taking a sip and letting the hot drink warm your throat.

"Babe?"you asked waiting for his answer. Dead silence.

You moved to his bedroom. Maybe he went back to sleep there,not wanting to wake you up. You opened the door slowly and tried to be as quiet as possible. You had a big smile on your face just with his image lying down,sleeping. He was adorable like that. But he wasn't there either. Not even at the bathroom.

"Tom? Where are you?"what if he left? Maybe something came up and he had to leave early? That's why his cup was glad empty. But he could write you a note or even text you. A sad,cold feeling tickled you from head to toe as you were going back to the kitchen.

You finished your tea and decided to leave the house and go back to yours. Probably it was an emergency and he forgot to tell you.

"Call me when you see this. I left" you closed it and drove to your own place.

Clothes all over the floor,even in places that they weren't supposed to be. Dishes in the sink,begging you to clean them. Even coffee was spilled at your dinning table. Yes you were the most messiest person you've ever met but this was an whole another level. Immediately started with the coffee stain and then with the dishes.

After a while your phone rang. With soaking hands you checked it.

Babe💞appeared on your screen.

"Finally.Where have you been?"you asked.

"I was with Tessa outside. Why did you leave? I've been looking for you for about 10 minutes"you slapped your forehead with your hand and closed your eyes. You didn't even noticed that the dog wasn't there.

"I thought that something came up and that's why. I was so sleepy to see that Tessa wasn't with me either. I'm sorry"

"You don't have to my love, I just got scared but I saw your message so it's fine.You liked my tea huh?"

"I did yes,I always do"you laughed and heard his laugh from the speaker. The sound you loved the most in this planet.

"Oh..um..I left it here"he stopped and you heard him talk to himself,almost whispering.

"What happened?"you started feeling worried about him.

"My green sweater is missing too. Well it's gonna be somewhere here"you smiled and started playing with his hoodie,resting in one of the chairs now. You didn't want to wet it."Anyway,I'll be there in twenty minutes,I missed you"

"Already?"you giggled"I slept in your arms last night Tom"

"That is the reason why"you felt blushing and you looked down,as he was standing in front of you,not even a ten year old wouldn't act like this.

"I'll be waiting then"you said and looked at the mess behind you. You had to be quick.

"Love you"

"Love you too"you hang up on him and got back to work. He didn't have to see this chaos.

You were of how quick you done almost everything. It was definitely better than before and also you felt really motivated and productive. Feelings not so familiar. But that went away fast,as you started feeling exhausted. You sat at the couch and put something to watch. And as you felt like you were about to sleep,your doorbell rang,waking you up.

Tom.

You got up and almost ran to the door,but something green stopped you. You got his sweater in your hands and hid it behind a huge pillow. You didn't want him to find in your place. You thought that he would be upset about it. He was about to find it someday at his closet all of the sudden. Surprise. You ran again and opened the door. Two hands lifted you from the ground getting you inside again.

"Hii"you screamed with a higher voice and hugged his head,pulling into your chest.

"Hello baby"he kissed your lips and the time stopped there. Fairies around you,throwing glitter making this moment magical,just like the others. Every kiss was on your mind,with every detail. His hands around your waist,your feet around his,your stomach making turns inside your body,your heart about to explode.

"What is this?"you turned around looking at his hands,after feeling something scratching your back.

"I bought something to eat. I didn't have time to make anything and I know how lazy you get "he smiled and you felt your feet touching the ground again. You clapped your hands and got back to the room you spent most of your time today,to grab two plates and cups.

"I'm starving"you said looking at the Heaven in front of your eyes as the smells were flying in the air.You sat next to him,his arms around your shoulders and enjoying your food.

"Next time please leave a note"you said and turned to face him.

"I left for 30 minutes. I didn't think you'd leave."

"I thought that something important happened and that you wouldn't be back. That's the reason I left"you took another bite."And don't ask what would happen if Tessa was there. You know I'd take her with me"

"I know I've had to tell you but you were so adorable that it would have been a sin waking you up"he looked at you with a smile on his lips.

"Oh stop"you rolled your eyes at his compliment."you're being silly now"you placed your plate at the little table. He did the same and grabbed your waist,not letting you leave,as you planned.

"I'm not being silly,I'm telling you the truth. You are adorable baby,can't you see it?"he pushed your hair behind your ear"Every time you look at me and I'm melting. I'm falling in love more and more with how amazing you are. From the way you talk and act with other people I can tell that you're special. Even in your bad days you try to make everyone around you happy or even smile. And when I'm sick or not in a good mental state,you look after me and I know you're gonna be there with me to ease the pain. I'm forever grateful from my decisions that led me straight to you"

"And your outside. Your hair,you eyes,your lips,your body everything attracts me. The way you walk,or talk,or even doing something flatters me. My heart skips a beat from the sight of you,whenever you walk towards me and you smile. You're creature that's here to kill me and I love it"his lips met yours one more time. His hand on your cheek,a movement that you adored the most. Your hands playing with his hair and making him moan from his good it made him feel.

"I love you"you whispered to his ear and hugged him tight. He knew hot to cheer you up and make you feel the most loved person. You questioned the universe if you deserved such a lovely soul as his.

But he knew how to ruin romantic moments like these,better than anyone by just starting to tickle you.

His hands crossing your whole body and yours trying to stop him. You laughed loud and without taking any breaths. Your lungs begged for air but he couldn't let you. Tears started running from your eyes and screams from your mouth. He suddenly stopped and you took it as a opportunity to run away from him. For a moment you thought he was sitting but as you turned around you saw him just an inch behind you. He picked you up once again and throw you back to your previous spot,this time with him on the top of you.

He was now kissing you with lust. Your legs around his torso,pulling him closer. Your hands under his shirt,scratching his back and making him moan to you. His big hands scanning your skin,every inch of it as it was something unique. His tongue fighting with yours,a fight he won everytime. You needed more of him. You needed him.

You tried to throw the huge pillows that decorated your couch to the side. But you forgot something.

"Is that my sweater?"his green hoodie was lying next to your bodies. He took it away and looked down at you. But your red face was hidden by your arms. You felt embarrassed and got scared for his reaction.

"I won't ask again,is that my hoodie y/n?"

You nodded to him. He left the sweater aside and tried to take your hands out of his way. You refused as much as possible,but he was stronger than you,you both knew that. Your face was now exposed and you bit your lower lip nervous.

"Why didn't you tell me you had it?"you couldn't meet his eyes.

"I was about to give it back to you. Well no,I wanted to put it in your closet without you knowing i stole it"you blinked fast."I'm sorry it won't happen again"

"I'm not mad darling,look at me"you didn't. He touched your chin and and then forced you to look him."I actually think it's cute that you wear them. They look good on you and they make you even more beautiful"

"You're not mad?"you asked him.

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"Because I stole it"you laughed nervously and ran your fingers through your hair.

"Put it on"he commanded. You raised your eyebrows without saying a word and following his demands. He took your hand and made his way to your bedroom,standing in front of the mirror.

"See? You look adorable babe. How can I be mad when you look like this?"you met his eyes as his hands hugged your little body from behind.

"I look like a potato in this"you closed your eyes at the feeling of his chest to your back."The only reason I wear them is that I feel you're with me all day. They smell like you"

He kissed your head and you turned around,your hands on his waist.His side smile,woke up your butterflies,starting to fly on your belly.

"You look cute and I want you to wear them all day and night. You can take them whenever you want"you kissed his cheek and giggled."And don't say you're sorry anymore for these kind of stuff.Please"he begged you with puppy eyes. You couldn't resist,it would be a shame.

"I'm sorry,I'll stop"you raised your one eyebrow,before starting kissing him again.

"Where were we?"

____________

Hope you enjoyed and sorry for any mistakess❣

#tomholland #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland x #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tomhollandxreader #tomhollandx #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland one shot #peter parker #peter parker imagine #spiderman #homecoming #far from home

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its-r-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s · 5 years

Text

Call Me A Freak- Chapter 5: Spells

Words: 1,572

Warnings: none that I can think of?

Ch 4 | Ch 6

~ ~ ~

Jane stopped by our room that day after classes. I was laid out across my bed, sketching, and Evie was sewing at the table.

“Mom said, ‘If a boy can’t see the beauty within then he’s not worth it,’” Jane explained. “Can you believe it? What world is she living in?”

“Auradon?” I grumbled, not looking up from my work. Jane was kind of useless to me if she couldn’t get the wand.

“Mal,” Evie interrupted. “Do you like?”

I glanced up at the item she had been sewing. It was a dark blue and black dress.

“Yeah,” I responded, not much conviction in my voice. “It’s cute. Brings out your eyes.”

“I know,” she said, sweetly.

I bit down on my cheek. It was something I often did when I was trying to hold myself back or stop myself from saying something.

I felt bad that my uninterested replies were enough for Evie. I wish that she would demand more from the people she called friends. She deserved it… but I couldn’t show her any more affection than I already did.

I couldn’t get close to her…

“I’ll never get a boyfriend!” Jane’s ramblings brought me back from my thoughts.

“Boyfriends are overrated.”

“And how would you know, Mal? You’ve never had one,” Evie teased.

“It’s ‘cause I don’t need one, E,” I shot back. “They’re a waste of time.”

Evie gasped, suddenly. “I forgot to do Chad’s homework!”

She jumped up, abandoning her work to scurry over to Chad’s backpack. I watched her go, incredulously.

“You’re doing Chad’s homework?” I scoffed. “That is exactly what I mean.”

There was a loud knocking from our wide open door, and in walked a tall girl, clad in a pink blouse and blue miniskirt.

“Hey guys!” She announced. “I’m Lonnie.”

We all just sort of stared at her, waiting for her to get to the point.

“My mom’s Mulan?” she tried again.

Evie turned away to work on her second round of homework for the night. Jane and I just continued to stare, unimpressed.

“No? Anyways, I love what you’ve done with Jane’s hair. And I know you hate us, and well… you’re evil…” I smiled at the comment, which seemed to unsettle her. “But do you think you could do mine?”

“Why would I do that for you?” I sneered.

“I’ll pay you fifty dollars,” she offered.

“Good answer,” Evie said, taking the money before I could argue. “I need to buy more material.”

She stood up, looking Lonnie up and down.

“Let’s see, I’m thinking we lose the bangs. Maybe some layers and some highlights,” she analysed.

“No, no,” Lonnie insisted. “I want it cool. Like Mal’s.”

I looked up from my artwork once more.

“Really?” Evie questioned. “The split ends, too?”

I glared up at Evie. Not so much for the comment, but because I knew she was going to insist I do this all so that she could buy some more fabric

She shook the bag, a smile on her face.

I groaned, rolling off the bed to grab my spellbook. “Okay.”

I opened it back up to find the spell I had used for Jane.

“Beware, forswear,” I repeated. “Replace the old with cool hair.”

Just as last time, I waved my finger around and slowly her short hair lengthened and the plain black color became an enriching brown ombre.

She hurried to the mirror in our room, staring at it.

“I know, I know,” Evie said, joining her in front of the mirror. “It looks like a mop on your head. You know what, let’s cut it off, layer it-”

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Lonnie stuttered. “I love it!”

“You do.” Evie almost sounded disappointed, although I wasn’t sure why. Lonnie was satisfied and she got her money.

“It’s just-” Lonnie hesitated, still staring at her reflection. Then, she reached down and ripped a slit into her skirt. “There. Now I’m cool.”

I found myself smiling unintentionally. “Like ice.”

Jane walked up beside her, taking Evie’s place, and did the same.

She gasped, staring at the barely visible tear in her dress. “What did I just do? Mom’s going to kill me.”

Evie looked at me, amused by their acts of rebellion and I couldn’t help but feel for them. It was nice to know that outside of being evil, my mother didn’t care what I did or what I wore. I didn’t have to be proper to impress anyone.

I just had to be the perfect little minion for her.

~ ~ ~

When Carlos walked in, I stopped cold. “Is that a dog in your arms?”

His face cracked open into the biggest grin I’d ever seen. “This is Dude. You won’t believe this, but he’s so sweet. He’s like my new best friend,” Carlos rambled. “Ben introduced me to him while I was practicing for Tourney. You should pet him. He’s so soft!”

I grimaced as he held the dog up to my face. “No thanks,” I responded. “Where’s Jay?”

“Talking to coach about joining the tourney team. Said he’d come over here as soon as he was done.”

I nodded and went back to flipping through the pages of my spellbook. I was doing my best to familiarize myself with it. I needed to know my resources and I wanted to memorize the more important spells.

Carlos sat on the floor, leaning up against the end of my bed, while Evie worked on more homework, asking her mirror for the answers.

“Yo!” Jay called, walking in with a brand new tourney jersey on. He danced excitedly as Carlos cheered him on.

“Did your plan work with Jane?” he asked, making his way around my bed. “You going over to see the wand?”

“Do you think I would be going through every single spell in this book if I hadn’t completely struck out?” I didn’t mean to reply so viciously, but something about the room was setting me off.

It started when Carlos walked in, talking about the dumb dog he had laid out beside him. And then Jay waltzing around in his new jersey. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way people in the room were acting.

“Oh, someone’s in a bad mood,” Carlos mumbled.

“My mom’s counting on me!” I shot back. “I can’t let her down.”

It was just a bit too homey. I was now sharing a room with Evie, who was concerned about my scars and the boys simply came in whenever they pleased. I didn’t like how our surroundings forced me to be open with my friends. It demanded that I be in their presence at all times.

“We can do this,” Jay reassured. All of us looked up at him. He had himself positioned in front of the window, looking unsure. “If we stick together.”

That was a big no-no. I didn’t do dumb motivational speeches.

“And we won’t go back, until we do,” I insisted, trying to move on from Jay’s comment. “Because we’re rotten…”

“To the core.” They all finished the phrase.

“Oh, yeah. I found out that Fairy Godmother blesses Ben with the wand at Coronation and we all get to go,” Evie explained calmly. “I have nothing to wear, of course.”

I glared at her. Sometimes I desperately wanted to know how Evie’s mind worked, because she was so good at playing with other people, and yet so oblivious.

“What?” she started to say, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Hold that thought.” I pulled my legs out from underneath me and rushed to the bedroom door.

Ben stood awkwardly in the hallway, his eyes widening as I opened the door for him. “Hey Mal. I didn’t see you guys today, I was just wondering if… you had any questions or… anything that… you needed?”

I pursed my lips, looking back at the others. “Not that I know of.”

“Okay. Alright, well uh…” He started to back away from the door. “If you need anything, just, uh-”

“Oh wait!” I called, interrupting his fumbling goodbye. “Is it true that we all get to go to your Coronation?”

He smiled, pleased by my interest. “Yeah, the whole school goes.”

“Wow,” I replied, twirling my hair in my fingers. “That is beyond exciting.”

“Do you think that it’s a possibility that the four of us could stand in the front row, next to the Fairy Godmother, just so that we could…” I took a deep breath in. “Soak up all that goodness?”

He opened his mouth, but it took a few seconds for any words to come out. “I wish you could. Up front it’s just me, my folks, and my girlfriend.”

My mind flashed back to a spell I had seen minutes prior. “And your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

I paused, trying to figure out if I needed anything else for this to work. But nothing came to mind.

I shot him a quick smile and began to close the door. “Okay, thanks! Bye!”

“Oh, no! There’s plenty of-” he tried to explain, but stopped himself when he realized I wasn’t going to reopen the door.

I looked at the rest of my gang and smirked. “I think it’s time that Ben got himself a new girlfriend.”

Everyone’s face lit up with realization. Evie was standing, running her tongue over her teeth and Jay looked almost giddy at the thought.

“I need a love spell.”

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freebooter4ever · 5 years

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A continuation of the amazing Pirate Snafu AU for @persipneiwrites, this is like an explosion of my love for pirates and snafu and I couldnt contain it so pls take it, get it out of my head. read persipnei's original first cause basically gene just told snaf he was dying of scurvy to trick him into taking gene, who snaf had saved from a shipwreck, home. And now snaf has to decide to return to Mobile or continue on his quest.

In the light of impending mental uncertainty, Snafu does what he always does...retreat to the peace and quiet of his Captain's quarters to surround himself with all his favorite maps. There isn't a surface in the tiny cramped space not covered in maps. Large, detailed maps, with scribbly corrections done in Snafu's own writing. A lot of times the cartographers are going off theoretical knowledge when they chart the coastlines. Snafu, on the other hand, has the worldly experience necessary to fix them. He hasn't exactly gone everywhere yet, but he's gotten pretty close.

He shuffles through the papers with a little more force than is probably warranted to dig out an old handheld mirror. It's cracked, and weather beaten, but it'll do the trick. Baring his teeth in front of the glass he sticks a finger under his lip and pokes around. Nothing hurts exactly, but there is a tightness to his chest that makes him nervous. One tooth he pokes actually wiggles a little, and that makes him even more nervous.

He shoves open the cabin door and yells, "Burgie!"

His first mate appears almost instantly.

"Find his majesty. Send him to my cabin," Snafu says.

Burgie agrees, looking extremely tired.

Snafu shuts himself back in, sits on his bed (which takes up almost as much space as the maps) and continues turning the mirror this way and that, trying to get a better angle. He very nearly can see the backside of his teeth by the time Sledge finally quietly lets himself into the room.

"What do you want?" Sledge asks, sullen.

Snafu smirks. He knows Sledge still considers himself apart from the crew. The boy doesn't like it when Snafu tries to order him about.

Snafu gestures to the space in front of him, "You said your father's a doctor. I want a thorough examination."

"You're joking," Sledge deadpans.

Snafu kicks a velvet covered stool in Sledge's direction and leans back on his hands, waiting patiently.

Sledge sighs miserably and straddles the stool. He scoots forward until his knees knock against Snafu's. Snafu holds completely still, barely breathing, until Sledge gently takes hold of Snafu's jaw and guides his mouth open. Snafu would almost describe Sledge's touch as delicate, if he were the type to use such vocabulary.

"Your breath stinks," Sledge complains and completely ruins the mood Snafu is trying to build.

"Yeah?" Snafu grins.

Sledge rolls his eyes and focuses on the task at hand.

Sledge's hands are so soft, and clean. Too damn clean to be anywhere near Snafu's mouth. But Sledge examines Snaf's teeth and gums anyway, and has him move his tongue around to inspect every bit. It all seems very procedural and official. And by the end of it Snafu's left front teeth hurt like hell, right down to the bone.

So he isn't surprised by Sledge's eventual diagnosis.

Snafu makes the announcement right before dinner. He wears his biggest hat. Straps his sword to his belt for show. Usually he does without weaponry whole on the boat. He trusts his crew enough. They're like family. Better than, even.

His crew watches him, trustingly, as he tells them they'll be turning around. That the big score he's been planning for over six months will have to wait. It means longer hours with less food. And no recreational time at port.

As Snafu makes his speech, he eyes Eugene Sledge, who stands off in a corner, arms crossed, face set in stone. Snafu wonders if Sledge is aware just how costly his request actually is.

Snafu trusts his crew with his life. But in under four months the communal treasury will be gone, and if he hasn't replenished it by then, he will be gone too. They wouldn't kill him. But they'd leave him in the nearest port and take his ship, in which case he might as well be dead.

"We're going to Mobile, to see this Governor-Doctor," Snafu concludes, looking straight at Sledge while he does, "And if it turns out we don't got scurvy, we'll take his majesty's ransom" he pantomimes a salute to Sledge, "...and kill him."

The crew jeers. None of them like Sledge.

Snafu's eyes trail down Sledge's lean neck, watching intently as the man swallows. Snafu expected Sledge to be smug, triumphant. Instead all Snafu sees is fear.

Fear is not the look Snafu wants from Eugene Sledge, but it's the one he is used to.

Snafu returns to his quarters and locks the door.

He only reappears hours later, on the edge of twilight. The sun is no longer relentless, and the sea is calm for once. These evening hours have become his time to hold court. Wherever he ends up perching on the ship, his men will find him and air any grievances. It's a daily reminder that his Captaincy is communal rather than appointed. Even if he is the one with a formal claim to the ship.

He goes through three pirates with money troubles, two women having a domestic disagreement, and one man who had something to say about the cat - before Burgie finally slides in next to him. It's nearly dark, and this nook under the bow they're squatting in makes the shadows pitch black. It's similar to the opening of the tiny storage space Snafu first hid in as a kid. Not a lot of unused space on a ship. But a skinny half starved child can fit in almost any cranny with the right motivation. He had been caught halfway through the voyage, and forced to swab decks for the rest of the journey.

"You don't have it," Burgie says without preamble.

Snafu cuts his eyes towards his first mate with suspicion.

"Haven't you wondered why our crew has had zero cases since I came on board?" Burgie asks.

"Just thought we were lucky, I guess," Snafu drawls and takes a smoke.

"Last crew I sailed with, the Captain decided to do an experiment. After he went to Asia, he learned that lemons were said to be able to prevent scurvy on long voyages. So, he gave the crew of his command ship three spoonfuls of lemon juice every day while the rest of the ships in his fleet did without. The men on the other ships started dropping like flies. Most of them didn't make it. I had to transfer to another ship just to help bring her in to port. It was cruel, the conditions that bastard put us in. To use us as test cases. It was mere luck I ended up on the command ship. Switched with a friend. He held out till the final week before he succumbed," Burgie says, ''I jumped ship after that. Couldn't stay watching that kind of treatment and not be able to do anything about it."

"You say your last Captain made it to Asia?" Snafu asks.

That's where Snafu wants to go. The Pacific Ocean.

Burgie sighs, "Snaf, I ordered the cook to give everyone daily lemon rations for a reason. You don't have scurvy, and if you keep taking my elixir you never will. Eugene lied."

"Eugene Sledge," Snafu extends the name as long as it can go, testing his limits. He grins down at the water below him. "Pretty little rich boy with hair like copper. Do you think he's ginger down there too?"

Burgie scoffs and stands to leave, "If you're taking him home because you want to fuck him, fine. But don't pretend like you're doing this for the health of the crew."

"Everyone knows scurvy is a luck game," Snafu taunts, still grinning.

"If you'd rather trust luck than me, you better be careful before yours runs out," Burgie warns kindly. He turns his back on his Captain.

"Burgie?" Snafu stops him just before he goes.

Burgie turns, questioning.

"Don't tell nobody," Snafu says. His face grows somber and he looks his first mate dead in the eye, "I don't want to have to kill him."

Burgie looks sad. But he nods.

A couple nights later Snafu finds Sledge, after he's had some time to think.

"The sailors cut my hammock again," Sledge complains the minute Snafu sits down next to him.

Snafu doesn't answer.

Sledge brought his troubles with the crew mostly on himself. He made no effort to learn anything about sailing, or to pitch in and lighten the duties of the sailors he's demanding work from as they take him home. He didn't even know enough about knots to tell when a rope has been cut or merely untied.

No one cuts rope on a ship unless it's an emergency.

Instead of saying all that, Snafu lights his rolled tobacco, and passes it to Sledge.

Sledge characteristically refuses the smoke.

They sit in silence that's almost companionable for an entire watch. Some of the crew pass by, as if wanting to talk to their Captain, but no one bothers them. Eventually they're given a wide berth and left completely alone.

Snafu seizes his chance. He sucks in his bottom lip. Then releases it. "Liars never prosper," he says.

Sledge sits up very straight. "You're a pirate," the boy says, "thought all your old breed did was lie?"

"Naw," a smile drifts across Snafu's face despite himself, "Gotta stick to the code. No lying."

Eugene immediately gets defensive, "All I want is to go home. I'm not asking for anything else."

Snafu casts his eyes to the sky. He is sick of hearing the same line over and over. "You are," he says, exasperated, "Going home. So don't be dumb and tell the crew I don't have scurvy."

"Wasn't planning on it," Eugene snaps.

"Good," Snafu says, equally harsh.

"Glad we've come to an understanding then," Eugene quips.

It takes every good samaritan bone buried deep in Snafu's body to not shove Sledge off the ship's rail and into the water then and there.

Or maybe it's just that Snafu wants one certain good samaritan buried deep in him that he's being so unusually lenient. He's not thinking very straight at the moment.

"The offer to sleep in my quarters still stands," Snafu says calmly in a final answer to Sledge's first problem, "Bed's big enough for two."

Sledge laughs caustically.

"I won't try anything," Snafu says defensively. He finally looks Eugene in the eye to convey that he's being genuine. "I promise." Snafu's last two words are only slightly sarcastic which in his mind is a great sacrifice.

But Eugene is staring at him balefully with those big sullen eyes of his, and Snafu aches. It is unfair to want so much when the other person doesn't.

"How old are you?" Eugene asks, still glaring, and turning the non sequitur tables over on Snafu.

Snafu looks at him. Tries to take the man's soul out through his eyes and divine his motivations. Then Snaf laughs, as if it worked. "I stowed away on my first ship at twelve," he says, "Led my first mutiny at seventeen. That was a year ago. I guess that makes me eighteen."

"Jesus christ, you're younger than me," Sledge says all in one breath like a revelation.

"No one on this boat is more green than you, Sledge," Snafu points out.

The man in question ignores this comment. Instead he focuses on Snaf's age. "You don't look it. Eighteen, I mean."

Snafu arches his back with a bit of pride, "Probably because I'm the meanest asshole this side of the atlantic."

"You're not mean, you're just defensive," Sledge counters, "That's different than being malicious."

"All the men I sent down to Davy Jones' locker would probably argue otherwise," Snafu taunts. A smile is growing on his face and he doesn't know what to do about it.

"Yeah. Okay," Sledge teases, "You're a mean tough pirate, I know."

Snafu is really laughing now. He can't seem to stop. It comes in bursts, like the waves far below his feet. Like all the joy he's had stuffed inside him burst free for this one moment of absurdity. One moment when a pampered, second son dandy sees straight through Snafu's artifice and is entertained by it.

Somehow, in the midst of Snafu's fit, Eugene starts laughing too. So they chuckle together as the sun sets, co-conspirators in lies they both started. And when Snafu turns his face away from the glare and happens to glance at Eugene, there's a smile on Eugene's face. And something in his eyes that terrifies Snafu. But the kind of terror that feels a little like hope.

"Why aren't you going to send me down to Davy Jones along with the rest?" Eugene asks.

Snafu slides off the rail and back onto the deck. He stands a few feet away, clinging to a rope for support, to admire Eugene's profile lit by the remaining sunlight. "You're too pretty to die, Sledge," Snafu winks.

He returns to his quarters alone.

He leaves his door unlocked.

Sometime in the night, Eugene must have snuck inside.

Because it's only when Snafu wakes with the sun and rolls over to discover a tuft of red hair on the pillow next to him that the pirate captain realizes it might be worse to have Eugene Sledge so near and off limits than to not have him in his bed at all.

Eugene Sledge sleeps peacefully. Exactly how Snafu might have imagined a Governor's son would. And deep inside, somewhere near that good samaritan bone of his, Snafu wants to preserve that innocence.

It's why he's taking the man home.

#sledgefu #sledgefu pirate au #bad germs

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sunlitroom · 5 years

Text

Gotham – s5e03 – Penguin, Our Hero

As I watched it, and some random observations here and there.

Previously on Gotham:

Selina can walk again. She’s also part cat, thanks to the whole ‘medication may release the darker angels of your true self’ side-effect. Big-eyed orphans flocked to Jim. Tabitha ran into Oswald’s knife. Lots of gangleaders want to kill Jim. Barbara rescued him because she needs his help killing Oswald, because no-one else in interested, because Tabitha was easily one of the most dislikeable people in town. Seriously, Barbara. Have you noticed that Sirens isn’t exactly swamped in floral tributes? Haven exists in soft focus. Ed and Tank got rough. Some very lazy graffiti implicated Oswald in the killing of several gang members.

As always, long post will be long. There are likely to be rambling digressions. Gobblepot might appear (although I welcome all shippers and non-shippers alike :)). There will be naked favouritism and naked not-favouritism. Broader comments at the end on plotlines and parallels and general direction.

Oswald opens what I’m assuming is his bedroom door, or a door to his private rooms. He hears a choir singing a song of praise and smiles beatifically.

(An aside. This is really dumb and I hate it - I'm not wasting wrist strength on it. Also - it's really offensive. Really really offensive)

In summary, Penn gives Oswald good news about production. The writers feel the need to really hammer home that totalitarian regimes are bad, like we may be somehow unaware of this. We also learn that people are ‘defecting’ to Haven, and that people love Jim Gordon. Oswald pitches a hissy fit that’s interrupted when a bunch of bikers break in, looking for revenge for Oswald’s apparent attack. He explains to the leader exactly how and why he’s stupid, and orders him to be interrogated.

In her hospital bed, Selina dreams about being shot by Jeremiah. This will be a recurring theme in this episode – Selina has flashbacks later - and I think it’s a good thing that we get to see someone actually dealing with the aftermath of trauma. I hope they don’t try to attribute this to the nasty seed thing later.

Waking with a start, she gets up and dressed and heads out onto the roof. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she leaps off the side, like she used to do.

At Haven, Harvey is warning about coping with the growth of new arrivals - word spreading like bad case of clap. He also warns that the gangs will come looking for the slave labour they’ve lost.

Jim seems unconcerned. Let 'em

Harvey says they hardly have any ammo or food to deal with either issue– but Jim still refuses to turn people away.

Harvey then eyes Jim, and asks him when he slept – he’s been going full-tilt for months. Jim tells him he’s OK – but does seem a little flat as he says this.

They enter a makeshift canteen, where Bruce is working. They ask him for some good news, and Bruce tells them something about a water purification system that’s small-scale, but still an improvement.

As they’re talking, a fight breaks out over rations. Jim breaks it up, and then realises people are staring expectantly, and delivers a speech. He tells the new arrivals that they’re all welcome, but they need to leave the fighting outside. The government thinks they don’t need help, and they need to prove otherwise. The gangs outside can tear each other apart – but they need to help each other survive.

Harvey is the voice of cynicism – pointing out that Jim’s speech worked now, but that it’s not going to be pretty when they find out that the government has abandoned them.

Bruce tells Jim that he’s holding this place together, and giving everyone hope – but he has more to add to his plate. Will, the big-eyed orphan, is having nightmares and broke his arm falling from his bed. Could Jim talk to him?

(An aside. I get that they’re building up Jim as a more uncomplicated protagonist and father figure. This is also to emphasise how emotionally invested Jim is in Haven, so that the explosion at the end will have added impact. However. It is treacly to the point of becoming sickening. Maybe it’s setting up another of Jim’s dark paths – where he’ll side with his old army pal over tried and tested allies in Gotham, and have a one night stand with Barbara – but even then, it’s just all felt a little heavy-handed)

In the dormitory, Jim sits down next to Will. Bruce tells him that they can’t imagine what he’s been through, but that he’s safe now. Jim underlines this by telling him that he’ll never let anyone hurt him again.

(An aside. Jim, no. You can’t promise that. You can promise to do your best – but you can’t promise to keep someone safe like that. Bruce is young enough to have an excuse. You know better.)

Jim offers the boy a treat before he leaves.

I’ve got something for you: pineapple from my rations. Hang in there – I’ll check on you later

He and Bruce walk away

(An aside – the obvious parallel here is between Jim and Oswald as leaders. Oswald – on an ego-trip, serving himself an elaborate breakfast, literally enjoying hearing his praises sung, slowly leaking followers. Jim – giving his rations away, working himself exhausted for his people, with people endlessly arriving at Haven.

And I suspect that’s how we’re supposed to view it – but, and I know I’m probably overcomplicating, it’s not quite so black and white. It’s not as nakedly motivated by ego as Oswald’s actions, but there’s no way that this isn’t gratifying for Jim)

Selina shows up in the dormitory. An alarmed Bruce tells her she’s supposed to be resting- but a cocky Selina asks him if she looks like she needs it. She’s never felt better, and she wants to find the freak who shot me.

Bruce says he’s been looking for Jeremiah, but never found anything. Selina points out that there’s been an influx of refugees from all over the city – someone must know something.

Bruce says he wants to find him as much as Selina – but he’s had months to fortify, and they need to be careful. Selina looks askance at him, and asks him if he’s scared. Bruce replies that of course he is, Jeremiah

Shot you to get to me

He tells her he can’t lose her

Selina tells him she’s not his to lose. He can’t stop her, but she does want his help. Bruce stares for a moment, and says that if they’re going to take him down, they’ll do it right. They’ll bring him back here and he’ll stand trial

(An aside. Honestly, Bruce? I don’t see any judges hanging around. A makeshift court consisting of you, Jim and Harvey isn’t exactly doing it right. On top of that, do you really want to bring Jeremiah into close proximity with defenceless civilians?)

Selina smiles fondly at Bruce’s naivete. Reaching up, she touches his face and kisses him.

I was hoping I could count on you

Further in the dormitory, a man sitting on a bed says he heard rumours in dark zone – which is apparently a place of chaos - ruled by those who lost their minds when the bridges went down

(An aside. Sigh, Gotham. So the mentally ill are scary again.)

Jeremiah is there, gathering followers. Selina makes to leave immediately, but the man remonstrates, telling her

You can’t go there: you’ll die! Jeremiah is the least of your worries. Everyone there is insane. Look what they did to my friend

He pulls the cover down, and we can see the man in the bed has had stuff carved into his torso.

Oswald opens his bedroom door, in a snit, clad in underwear this time. He’s wearing a tight black top and shorts under his white cotton garment. I’m guessing the white thing was possibly a little too see through, and they decided to just let the black underwear show rather than get a headache trying to hide it.

Penn! Where the f…..

His choir is gone, and there’s only Olga singing alone

(An aside – I know it’s not the biggest point in the world: but if people like Olga and Eyepatch Guy consistently come back to work for Oswald, then he’s not as uniformly loathsome as the show likes to paint him)

Oswald interrupts her – asking where his staff and Mr Penn are. She informs them that they all defected to Haven. He fulminates before panicking, looking for his dog.

He turns to Olga, teary-eyed

They took my dog?

She looks blandly at him

Rumour say pup went willingly

(An aside – I know Oswald’s scenes are more or less comic relief at points, but I still do get irritated when he takes more of a kicking than any other character in terms of sheer humiliation and being told he’s unlovable.)

He screams in rage and grabs the biker chained to the wall

You're in luck. Our interests are now aligned – and you may live

He tells him to contact the other deeply irritating petty gangs, and to gather men, vehicles and petrol. He has bullets. They’re going to pay a visit to Haven.

After he’s dressed, that is.

At GCPD/Haven, Harvey – accompanied by Alvarez - tells Jim Oswald has made it through the barricade with gangs.

Jim tells them to load up. Harvey points out they’re low on ammo. Jim sends him to someone he hopes with be friendly.

(An aside here. How much time has passed since last episode? Barbara made clear to Jim when she saved him that this was essentially conditional on him agreeing to plot Oswald’s death with her. Jim said he’d table that for later. Is she still waiting for this to happen? Has she just assumed he’s not going to do it? When are we, exactly? If he’s really just never got back in touch, why assume that she’s going to be willing to help – other than the fact that he has no other options, and Jim has a track record of expecting help from people – no matter whether he’s recently jerked them around.)

Down the tree-lined street where Ivy and Selina once wandered – and which is now the dark zone. Selina cracks a joke about calling it the dull zone, and Bruce gazes at her – telling her he’s glad she seems herself again

Selina says she’s been here before – it’s the posh part of town. Bruce says people with money got out. She points out that he didn’t, and he tells her seriously that he had a reason to stay.

(An aside. Oh Selina – and it wasn’t staying with you. Bruce wanted Alfred to evacuate with Selina. He was going to stay and hunt Jeremiah down. Does Selina know this?)

A man with a bomb strapped to him runs towards them, frantically asking for help, before the bomb explodes. We hear laughter and gunshot, as a band of God knows what approaches. Actually. There was a version of Phantom of the Opera set in a disco in the 70s - called Phantom of the Paradise. They remind me of this, crossed with the slightly naff cenobites from Hellraiser III

Anyway

They turn to run, and collide with a hulking guy who’s not exactly friendly

Selina says they’re looking for Jeremiah

Kill you. Kill Jeremiah

Selina decides the best course of action is to find the schoolyard’s biggest bully and take him down

They all start fighting.

Haven, where Mr Penn is still conducting the choir - who now do hymns instead. We hear the sound of bikes approaching. Penn nervously asks Jim what’s going on.

It’s Oswald. Jim tells his men to hold their fire

Oswald gets out of his car – lividly angry.

Well. If it isn’t my old friend Mr Penn, and the Gertrud Kapelput Memorial Choir. How nice to see some familiar faces!

Jim tells Oswald that he shouldn’t have come to Haven. Oswald responds angrily that he stole his people and his dog.

Jim says that the people came here of their own free will. Oswald ignores him to call on his dog, who doesn’t respond to him

Jim raises his eyebrows at him triumphantly when the dog refuses to come when called.

Oswald reiterates that Jim is to return his people and his dog – and also apologise.

Jim says no.

Oswald tells him he knows his ammo is used up – he’s bluffing.

On Jim’s signal – some of his men take down some of the bikers. Oswald pulls a face, and Jim says his men need some target practice.

Back with Selina and Bruce. The hulking guy tells her that she looks soft – while she tells him he looks 300lbs of ugly.

Selina gets the man on the ground and starts clawing at his face with her new metal claws – demanding that he tell her where Jeremiah is.

The man protests that they don't mess with him – but then tells her he’s at Hotel North.

Selina’s still going, though, clawing at his face. Bruce tells her he’s had enough. She says it’s enough when she says so, and he restrains her.

He looks at her, troubled, and tells her she won. It’s over.

Selina blithely replies that it was easy, and strolls off. Bruce stares after her unhappily.

Back at Haven, an irate Oswald tells the bikers that Jim is bluffing. The leader asks how he knows.

I know Jim Gordon

Oswald says if they require a demonstration – they should march forward. The biker says they have guns – Oswald retorts that he does too, and his are loaded.

They march. As they approach, Jim tells his men to make ‘em count.

They shoot – but run out of bullets, leaving one man standing.

Oswald gloats that Jim is out of ammo, and points out that he doesn’t want his men to die.

On the count of three, GCPD lower their weapons.

Bruce and Selina head to the church – Selina deftly climbing over cars. Bruce is not happy at how she handled the big guy earlier, but Selina disagrees – asking whose side he’s on?

Yours. Always

As they approach the church, they see a shrine to Jeremiah. Selina says she’ll tear his throat out. They follow some other people up the stairs to the church and enter the building.

A woman in a mask welcomes them to the Church of Jeremiah, where the faithful will become their best selves – after a demonstration of faith.

They’re very oddly dressed. Shirt and tie – and one guy in a kilt (which tends really to be formal wear)

They walk further in. The masked woman stops Selina – and points out she doesn’t look like a worshipper. Selina insincerely says she witnessed his work first hand, and she’ll never forget it.

She is permitted to pass, and follows the adherents upstairs. The masked woman whispers in the ear of another guard before removing her mask. It’s Ecco, in some dilapidated makeup.

Bruce slips away

(An aside - Where are the clean and well-dressed devotees coming from? I thought the Dark Zone was a terrifying bedlam? How did they get there without being attacked? Why are they so clean and well-presented?)

Oswald leads Jim to a cage/cell. Jim tells him he’s going to regret this. Oswald gloats that those are strong words for someone out of options. He’s going to have Jim watch while they destroy Haven, and then shoot him and leave him for dead like did to Oswald

(An aside – Oswald – no you’re not. We both know this. Jim knows this. That one-episode biker leader knows this. Tank knows this. Those weird English peasants at Ivy’s know this. Give. It. Up)

Jim tells him when the government finds out what he’s done, he’ll be at the top of the wanted list. Jim – Jeremiah created this whole crisis. Jonathan is crucifying people. The government will not share your pigtail-pulling fascination with Oswald.

Oswald tells Jim the only law in Gotham is power. Jim tells him they have children and families here. What will happen when the gangs take them back? Oswald blithely says they’ll go back to being slaves. His people will go back to their lives: bellies full of gruel, with him as their protector.

Jim tells him to take revenge on him – but leave the refugees alone. Oswald tells him it’s almost tempting – before leaving

(An aside – and here, again, we have the problem with this storyline. If you can tug on anyone’s heartstrings, it’s Oswald’s. It’s stupid enough that they have him genuinely believing his people enjoy their life. The additional notion that he wouldn’t actually care about children and families is stupid. Let’s not forget – when Oswald was piloting the blimp, the worst outcome he could imagine was the death of thousands of innocent citizens. It was Jim who felt the need to further incentivise him by appealing to his ambition. Seriously, now. It wasn’t that long ago. I’ve said it several times before – but if your plot demands that the characters are ooc in order to facilitate it, your plot isn’t good)

Outside, Penn is being chained up. Oswald’s not happy at this, and steps in

Stop - that one belongs to me

He manages to unchain Mr Penn – who smiles happily - at being rescued, but also maybe at the indication that Oswald actually appreciates him.

One of the annoying bikers grumbles that Oswald sacrificed one of his guys. While Oswald is untying Mr Penn, who’s thanking him all the while – the biker shoots Penn in the gut.

Penn drops to the floor. Oswald tries to stem the bleeding but it’s no good.

You should have stayed with me! Why did you leave?

Penn looks up at him and, without malice, simply tells him

Everyone hated you

Oswald looks down, his face blanched.

One of the bikers tells him they’ll take everything. An enraged Oswald says he’ll pay for this, before the biker wallops him hard in the face.

(An aside – sorry, but no. Oswald is cleverer than this. He’s adept at reading other people’s needs and wants. The notion that he honestly would have no idea of how he was perceived is just silly.

Also – I know there apparently wasn’t time to develop Penn as the Ventriloquist, but I don’t think they had to kill him off. It feels really unnecessary. Given that this ‘revelation’ was only needed because they made Oswald temporarily stupid, it’s particularly bitter. On top of that, if I feel he’s been jettisoned to help make room for the compulsory indigestible lump of Os/Ed interaction we’ve to dutifully swallow later this season, I am going to feel rather cross.)

Oswald is taken to the cage, struggling and protesting.

Let me go, we had a deal!

As he’s shoved in, Jim watches him calmly from the corner.

I take it that didn’t work out like you planned?

Harvey is at Sirens, calling for Barbara. She sneaks up behind him, puts a knife to his throat and tells him there no men in Sirens past midnight – making it surely a very inconvenient brothel.

She adds that perhaps it’s time golden boy learned to save himself. She asks Harvey if he’s tired of playing sidekick.

Harvey tells her he doesn’t see it that way. They’re friends fighting for same thing.

Barbara says she remembers when Jim was the idealistic rookie and Harvey was the cynical veteran. Harvey cuts in that she was sane back then. Barbara snidely says that now Harvey carries Jim’s laundry.

Don’t you wonder what your life would have been like if you never met Jim Gordon?

(An aside - Barbara. Yes – you have ample cause to deeply resent Jim. He compartmentalised the bejesus out of his life when he was engaged to you, he moved on indecently fast, and his default facial expression when he’s encountered you since has been a curled lip and a sneer. You turned to him after your release from Arkham and asked for him simply to recognise you as a person, and he wouldn’t do it.

However, laying the blame at everyone else’s door for your current situation has become tedious. You were placed in horrible situations, but you have also had agency. Decisions were made. Paths were taken. For the actual love of God, stop whining. I’m so bored.)

Harvey replies that he’d be dead, or wishing he was.

(Another aside. The spectre of Death has hung over Harvey since day one. I do hope he makes it to the end)

Barbara sneers that he’s delusional – like the saps who expect the government to help.

Harvey tries again – commenting that he knows they’ve had their differences, before mentioning that Oswald has turned up…

Barbara’s tune changes, and she tells him he should have opened with that.

Let’s move

Back in the cell, Jim is trying to cut his bindings. Oswald is ranting. Jim’s taken everything from him. Jim tells him to keep his voice down. Oswald keeps talking. His people should have loved him, he kept them safe. What so special about Haven?

Jim pulls a face at him, and says it’s special because it’s far away from him. Oswald pulls a face of his own

That's rich

People are coming, and Jim hisses at Oswald to be quiet. We see the head biker and a couple of children come in looking for supplies – one of whom is big-eyed orphan boy, who glances quickly at Jim. Jim tells Oswald to just act normal, adding

I know it's a stretch

The boy slides a piece of metal under the cage, which Oswald covers with his foot. The bikers find he booze they were looking for, and leave.

Oswald laughs manically. When they get out – he is going to tear this place to the ground. He starts to rant – but Jim interrupts him. That won’t solve the problem. They need to take the gangs out – right here, right now.

They look down at the piece of metal. Oswald asks how they pick it up.

They eye each other, and – honestly – the fact that they both wordlessly come to the same impractical solution points to how bizarrely close they are.

They turn back to back and – leaning against each other – lower themselves slowly to the floor, with Jim making some of the best facial expressions ever seen.

(An aside. OK. Fair enough, Oswald can’t really pick that up: I don’t think his leg would allow him. But Jim. Jimothy. JimJam. Jimbalaya. I ran a test. It’s easy to lower down to the ground with your hands behind your back, pick something up, and then stand again. You saw a chance for some body contact and you took it. Naughty.)

Bruce creeping about at Jeremiah's lair. He encounters a corridor strewn with the corpses of pilgrims, all with gunshot wounds to the head.

Meanwhile, Selina joins Ecco and the others in an empty swimming pool. Essentially, they play a group game of Russian roulette. Ecco is very theatrical and Harley Quinn-ish about all this. Selina scoffs – but, on Ecco implying she’s a coward, places the bullet in the chamber and spins the barrel.

Ecco counts them down – again, slightly aggravating on the quirky preciousness front. We go quickly back to Bruce, whose head turns sharply when he hears the gunshots.

Ecco strolls round, announcing that she’s disappointed in those who didn’t participate. Selina says she’s

Just not a mindless idiot willing to get shot in the head for nothing

Ecco glares. She comments that Curls is here to judge all of us. She goes on, though, indulging in some wittering about Jeremiah and his methods and how it looks like madness but it’s really liberation, blah blah blah

She then tells them all to leave now – she needs to have a word with Selina. They all got straight ‘As’ and can proceed and be reborn.

Elsewhere, Bruce follows two guards before beating them. He ascends further up the staircase.

Selina faces off with Ecco. Ecco says she doesn’t want to meet Jeremiah, but Selina insists she does – only she’s not willing to play that psychotic game

Ecco does some more quirky stuff

But baby – it’s so fun!

Selina asks why Ecco doesn’t play. Ecco tells her she doesn’t get it. Lifting her hair, she displays a scar at the base of her skull, near her ear.

The bullet’s still inside. I hear it. Ping ping ping. Boy do I feel it when the nights get cold

She pulls the trigger, but there’s no bullet. She seems to be getting off a little on it.

Selina tells her she’s insane – but she’s indignant at this, saying she was willing to look death in the face and allow the old her to die. This is the gift Jerome gave Jeremiah – and now it’s the gift he’s giving them

(An aside – interestingly, Jeremiah seems to have rather retconned his past with Jerome again. The gas wouldn’t have killed Jeremiah – there was no potentially fatal option, as with his gun method)

Ecco smiles

We want you to experience that gift….Selina

Selina’s eyes widen

You know me

Ecco smiles

There’s not a single part of Bruce's life we don’t know about. His joys, his fears, his desires

(An aside. Wow. That sounds a like a fun couple activity.)

She adds that Bruce wasn’t ready for Jeremiah’s gift, and nor was Selina.

Selina grimaces as Ecco points the gun at her face

One thing Jeremiah did teach me. I hate a gun pointed at my face.

She hisses angrily, and they start to fight.

Oh puddin’. Aren't you delicious?

(An aside. I suppose you can’t really blame Ecco for flirting with Selina. It sounds like most of her evenings with Jeremiah are spent working on the big Bruce scrapbook.)

Ecco says she knew she had it in her – all it took was a kick in the pants.

Bruce appears. Ecco sneers that her boyfriend is worried about her.

Selina flashes back to her shooting. She manages to turn the gun on Ecco – but Bruce yells stop, and Ecco escapes, stabbing Selina in the leg as she goes. Selina screams in rage and makes after her – but Bruce stops her, telling her that she’s bleeding.

Selina cuffs him to the gate. Bruce protests, but Selina says they’ve done things his way. Not it’s her turn. Bruce is left yelling after her as Selina drags herself off after Ecco.

Back at Haven, the bikers eyeing up cops and discussing who might be best for fights. Jim strolls up

How about this?

He points his gun

The biker says he’s bluffing

I’m afraid not

Oswald appears at the other end of the room

Neither am I

Oswald shoots the gang members. Jim calls on the cops to come out. Jim and Oswald face each other across the room. We hear a whimper, and Oswald’s dog approaches him. He fusses over him, and reassures him that he killed the bad men.

The crowd behind him overhear this and mutter agreement – he did shoot the bad men. They start to chant his name.

Oswald smiles gleefully. In many ways, he’s the world's simplest creature.

Back at Haven, people are arguing both with and about Jim

You promised safety!

He saved us!

Oh boy. Time for another speech.

It was a hard day - but we won.

He points out that they’ve got Oswald's guns and ammo now, and that they survived. Hope survived too – and he thinks that’s worth fighting for.

So do I

It’s the winsome orphan who rescued him

(An aside. Mercy, Gotham. I can’t take much more of this treacle.)

Jim blinks in response to this support. He goes on. Now there’s work to be done, wounded to be cared for.

Tomorrow's another day

Jim’s Scarlett O'Hara now.

A cop appears to tell Jim that Oswald is outside.

Before he heads out, Jim tells the winsome orphan that he did a brave thing, and that they wouldn’t have escaped if not for him. The boy replies that Jim helped him, so he wanted to reciprocate. He hands the boy his badge, and tells him he needs deputies. He smiles and thanks him – especially since he’s allergic to pineapple.

Jim walks towards Oswald, who is fussing over the dog. He straightens up as Jim approaches, and asks him if the cops are really necessary: after all, he just saved hundreds of people.

Jim adds that he endangered them to start with, so he can be forgiven for wanting to play it safe.

Oswald looks up at him, his face more sincere

Still - I do hope there’s no hard feelings?

Jim steps closer and looks at him like he’s recently been caught stealing apples, as opposed to putting a bounty on his head and then breaking through the barricade with a gang of bikers.

You did the right thing today, Oswald. You’re free to go. Don’t make me regret it.

They stand close and – even with my shipper glasses off, there’s really no other way to describe this – stare at each other fondly, smiles on their faces.

(An aside, before Barbara comes in waving the plot point no-one cares about.

I ship this like crazy. I like writing fic for it. One thing that’s blocked me for ages is how readily Oswald can forgive the worst of behaviour from Jim, and how Jim readily heads back to him for help each time no matter where their relationship has been. But actually seeing this helped me get it. Oswald thinks he’s capable of doing great things for the city and its people. Jim also believes this of himself: Jim Gordon, hero of Gotham. They also both know they are capable of terrible, terrible things.

To have someone who is not only seemingly willing to forgive you anything, but who also has a seemingly endless capacity to believe in you? That’s about as a big a deal as you can get. No wonder they keep gravitating towards each other. Who wouldn’t?)

Harvey hurries in, shouting a Jim in warning. He’s swiftly followed by Barbara.

Hi Pengy. Bye Pengy

Wide-eyed, Oswald holds his hands out in front of him, falling back on what he always falls back on in dire straits

Jim!

Jim hurriedly gets in front of him, and faces Barbara down

Barbara, no

Barbara tells him to get out of her way or he’ll get her first bullet.

Jim insists that he’s not moving

We don’t get to see what Barbara does next, because there’s an explosion that knocks everyone to the ground. Oswald, Barbara and Harvey are unconscious, but Jim stands and looks around to see Haven up in flames. There’s no scream of rage – just resignation, and weariness.

(An aside - So, I’m guessing that the explosion was Jeremiah’s doing – given that it just so happened to coincide with Bruce not being anywhere near the building?)

General Observations

A couple of themes here.

The obvious parallel is between Jim and Oswald as leaders. Jim is the ‘good’ leader, Oswald the ‘bad’ leader. I don’t think we’re supposed to read more into it – but, as I said, I think you can really dig into a little more. Barbara comments offhand that Jim wants to be a hero. They both get emotional gratification from what they’re doing.

Oswald has already been chastened by Mr Penn’s death. How Jim copes with what has happened remains to be seen.

There was a little bit of crossover between storylines, if you squint, in the notion of proving yourself under pressure. Oswald eventually did the right thing. Oswald and Jim came together when it counted. On the darker side, Ecco seemed insistent that Selina could step up to the challenge she posed after a kick in the pants.

Given that it lasted a whole two episodes – the Oswald as dictator thing was dumb. Oswald’s whole thing is his ability to read motivations and needs and exploit those. He can’t just fall back on a family name, or use brawn to succeed. But suddenly he actually hadn’t realised that people hated him? Really? Equally – the bit later about him not understanding why people would resent the situation he offered: safety and stability – Oswald’s whole first season is him rejecting the notion of ‘knowing his place’ in favour of clawing his way up, risking his neck repeatedly.

Sorry – but this storyline has been dependent on both ooc-ness and Flanderizing his character.

Hmmm. See – here’s the thing. I liked Jeremiah last season – pre and post-gas. He was different and had his own quirks and complexities. He simmered icily – a contrast to Jerome’s all-out mayhem. But I find the whole Cult of Joker thing tiresome – with all the witless, biddable acolytes wittering on about how he’ll open your mind. It feels even more marked with Jeremiah, who essentially displays almost total contempt to anyone who isn’t Bruce. I’m guessing part of the reason he stays secluded is that he can barely tolerate them.

I wonder if we’ll ever find out why Ecco was so devoted to Jeremiah. Because she was – back last season – before all the gas stuff. Fiercely devoted. It didn’t feel like a romantic thing – and I was curious to find out what it was. Had he helped her out of a bad situation? Did his working set-up meet her needs and personality in some particular way?

Thoughts?

#gotham commentary #gotham s5e03 #penguin our hero

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koganphrancis · 6 years

Photo

Camless Episode 2 Recap

(I can’t give a credit to the gif maker because they deleted their post right after I saved this gif and before I could click back and get their Tumblr url, so, sorry! If anyone else would be interested in giffing this moment, please do-looks like there might almost be some butt crack in it for us, and that would officially make this the most interesting moment in the episode.)

Once again the best thing I can say about this episode is there was not even a whisper of a mention of Terror ;)

But the rest of the show-I really don’t recognize anything from what the show used to be. This is truly like a brand new Showtime show using some of the same actors from Shameless. No one reminds you of how their character used to be. They’re all like those Lego people Emmy’s always bragging about using when she directs episodes-plastic and stiff and lifeless.

Also, this episode had zero sex scenes, which must have been confusing to its core audience that keeps insisting the show is still worth watching. I’m sure they missed the tits.

Like last week, I’ll just run down the characters, if I can stay awake.

Frank. Ugh. They gave him this incredibly moronic scene in The Alibi where he rallies his fellow white men against “reverse racism” and you could see how hard Macy was working to try to grind out the lines, but it just stunk. I’m sure the showrunners think they’re coming up with cutting edge social commentary here, but they’re not. The audience has long been clued into the fact that Frank’s motivations behind his machinations are to serve one thing and one thing only, and that’s Frank himself. He will go whichever way the wind blows. If not being a Make Southside Great Again cretin would’ve got him some money in his pocket, he would’ve been making speeches against everything he was saying last night. Archie Bunker was an iconic character in the advancement of social progress because he did believe the shit he said, and the audience was in on the fact that he was dead wrong. When Frank says racist bullshit, it’s not “shameless” it’s not commentary, it’s a lazy fuck wanting something for nothing. It has nothing to do with improvement or education of the viewer. Shameless has this unrealistic view of itself being a show “about” something, and when it inevitably fails to hit the mark, they just guffaw and say we weren’t supposed to take it seriously, it’s just a comedy, it’s just Shameless. Well, you’ve cried wolf too many times and I can’t take anything you say as meaningful.

Also, this and almost every other storyline last night took the most laborious routes possible to get the characters to their next plot point. Frank only got involved in local politics because he needed beer money (what happened to his one beer a day with the new liver? Oh yeah, that was a different character on a different show). And why the fuck would the patrons of The Alibi put money into anything Frank’s going to be in charge of? Are they that stupid?

Fiona and Bored Their lack of chemistry continues to astound. Their conversations make no sense. Bored clearly doesn’t give a shit what Fiona does, so why does he insist on giving his opinion that, once it pisses her off, he just drops it? Why say anything to begin with? And I only watch their scenes once, so I might be wrong on this, but he leaves me with the impression that he squints every time he speaks. It’s as if he saw Dirty Harry at an early age and vowed to himself if he ever became an actor, his delivery of all his lines would be just like Clint growling out, “Do you feel lucky, punk? Do you?”

Anyway, Fiona’s circuitous route has her going to the Gallagher house to find shoes she left there when she moved into her own apartment. The fuck? You gotta try so hard as a writer these days to get any of the family together-it’s another piece of the “old” show that is missing more and more lately, and really ripping the show apart at its already weakened seams.

She has a big power meeting with a commercial real estate developer now that Ian’s bail money is burning a hole in her pocket. (And, the fuck? Ian turns down her offer to post bail so she figures he had his shot and if he changes his mind and wants-or worse yet NEEDS-to get out of jail he’s shit out of luck? They could’ve had her make sure he understood it was a one-time offer, but no.) Anyway, for said meeting, she’s wearing what looks like a kimono from a day spa and to complete the look she needs the pair of red fuck me pumps that she finds in a small box that looks like it’s only holding said pumps and one work boot. She left that behind? Couldn’t squeeze it into the new place?

When she arrives back home at the Gallagher house, she finds Liam sitting on the couch and asks him why he’s not at school. (Forget that, why isn’t SHE taking care of him, she’s his legal guardian!!!!) He tells her he got kicked out because of Frank, Fi asks what did he do, Liam says, “The moms”, clue laugh track that this show totally needs now. Fiona brings Liam along with her-he clues her in to how rich folk talk, and she tells the real estate guy Liam’s her intern, a prodigy, cue laugh track. She has a bullshit meeting with the guy, tries to throw her boyfriend’s name around to prove she has clout (and hey, he has a last name now! It’s Kellogg, but who will bother to remember that?), uses her patented Fiona looking at real estate phrase when she says a building he showed her has “good bones”. She’s so obviously bullshitting the guy and we can see her losing her money happening a mile away. She, however, thinks she’s playing the dick just right. There’s a scene towards the end where she’s begging to throw her $50K at him, but he says you need $100K to get in, and she says she has it??? I couldn’t be bothered to go back and watch it again to see if at any point she indicates where she’ll come up with twice the money she has, I’m just assuming she’s going to gamble the entire apartment building and lose it all. And that WILL be believable because she has no business experience that’s not straight out of fantasyland and the only thing that will bother me is they seem to be setting it up that Bored is right and she should listen to him like a good little woman.

Lip Lip’s storyline is no longer about Lip, it’s about all the people he keeps taking on as projects. Last night Xan abandoned the Ball twins she was babysitting to run off with a stolen wallet (what is it with this show thinking child endangerment is funny?). To nitpick-if Liam was supposed to be in school, shouldn’t Xan have been at hers too? Last week they made a point of saying she forged a note to her teacher to go to Brad’s wedding...

Anyway, since this new show thinks it’s normal for 24 year old guys to do nothing but parent kids that aren’t theirs and be a one man support system for their mentor and their sponsor (but not their brother), Lip’s taking on a new project, being the reluctant sponsor of a drug and alcohol addict who has an adorable baby. Lip tries telling Brad that “Gallaghers aren’t sponsors, they have sponsors” (I’m so sick of “Gallagher” pronouncements like that), but in the end, he can see the guy has no one, so he steps in. And if I could trust this show for one minute I’d be intrigued by this (it’s much more realistic than the whole Xan bullshit)-it’s interesting to think Lip can relate to the baby being with the dad while he was passed out for two solid days more than he relates to the dad-but I just feel like they’ll handle it badly and I’m not going to get attached to the baby or the dad.

Debbie She’s shrilly screaming for equal pay and equal rights, but I get the feeling all of that was her circuitous route to meeting this season’s love interest. It’ll be interesting to see if she keeps up her crusade or if all that’s forgotten once she’s getting sex.

We first see her rattling off statistics from computer print outs, which is a refreshing change from Ian memorizing the Bible overnight, but still. The stats she’s reading are unfair and horrific, but the people she’s telling them to are in no position to change things. Debbie takes her “cause” to job sites where again, she’s shouting into the void, since no women are working there and even if they were, what does she expect them to do? This whole “Norma Rae” thing makes no sense because licensed workers ARE unionized and if the jobs she’s visiting are using under the table workers, no one wants this loud mouth teenager and her baby carriage calling attention to it. What is she trying to accomplish?

So, like I said, all the screaming is probably just the set up to her meet cute with the chick she thought was a dude. Said chick comes to the Gallagher house (claiming she found it because Debbie was screaming her full name and saying she was a welder with a vagina-so good to know everyone in Chicago would know where that person lives...) and does the “big reveal” that she’s a woman. Debs/Emma is all, “Dafuuuuuck?” and Alex winds up asking her out for a drink. At home I’m thinking, “Aw, damn, Alex, you’re gonna get roofied!”

Carl Carl is moronic as fuck this week-more so than usual. He tries to see his local congressperson (who is secure in his seat and not running in the same election as Frank’s tampering with, I guess?) and is told by an assistant the list of things Carl will need to get a recommendation for West Point and to come back in 9 weeks. Carl totally ignores most of the list, the scholastic and athletic achievements-does he really think he’ll get in without it all? Can’t he just ask Ian what he’ll need to do? Oh wait, no one knows Ian-I’m thinking of that other show again.

He starts on a quest to find volunteer work (since court ordered post juvie hours don’t count-cue laugh track), and asks at the first place “if it pays”. Right there, he’s too stupid to get into any reputable school, why are people wasting their time with him?

He winds up working for a retired veterinarian who uses an unconventional but cheaper and effective way to euthanize dogs. The show goes totally off the rails, having Carl “rescue” them and taking them home to die a “natural” death in his basement instead. Is the writer so stupid she doesn’t know that that’s just forcing the dogs to live out their days in pain, or are we only supposed to think it’s Carl that is that stupid? Either way, why go there Shameless? Why drag innocent dogs into your “it’s Shameless!” world of the unfunny?

Kev and Vee Their painful role as the show’s family sitcom portion continues. (side note: I was cackling with glee when I heard Bob Saget will be making a guest appearance-I called that Full House vibe from the start!) They’re checking out preschools and the first place they go, the woman who runs it is dressed as a full on fairy princess. As if that wouldn’t be enough of a red flag to GTFO. When they hear the cost of tuition, K&V flip out. Because, ya know, they had no idea daycare/preschool was expensive? Have they been hit with the same stupid stick as Carl? They get a lead on a Catholic school that’s in their price range, but there’s only one spot! What to do? Easy, just tell their obviously not identical twin daughters that one of them always has to keep out of sight at school and that from now on, they’re both “Amy”. Cue laugh track.

Ian Oh man, why isn’t Cam gone already? This week starts with him performing the prison yard triple wedding. He’s speaking in the cadence and manner of a preacher, yet he’s only been to 2 weddings that he can recall? Does he watch You Tube videos of sermons now? It makes no sense! Anyway, a guard tells him he’s made bail, and all lame, choreographed hell breaks loose as the prisoners want “Father” Gallagher to finish the ceremony.

Next time we see him, he has at least half an inch more hair and he’s being released back into society, wearing the clothes he was arrested in 9 months ago. The handmade God Loves Fags T shirt is better than some of the things I’ve seen Cam wearing in real life lately, but I digress. Geneva is waiting for him and is jumping and yipping all over him like an overexcited puppy. He tries telling her, “I really wasn’t done in there-those guys need me.” She’s not listening as she tells him “so much exciting stuff has been happening” (off screen-there’s nothing exciting happening on the show itself)-”We have sponsorships now, we’re in 45 states, 1 mil strong on Insta, we’re getting some of the conversion centers closed down.” And, just, you lost me with the hyperbole. Say they’ve spread to 3 states or something believable, not almost the entire continental US. Anyway, she tells him they crowd sourced his bail and asks if he’s ready to face his public. He just looks dazed and confused. A little group is waiting for him behind a (as in one, solo) police barrier.

Next time we see him, he’s being delivered to the Church of Gay Jesus in a luxury SUV. People are waiting there to greet him too-some wearing unintentionally hilarious masks of Ian’s face-well, really GJ, but come on, that’s Cam!!!

Geneva asks him if he’s okay and he says “Yeah, just used to being in lock up.” Again, Cam’s not giving us much to work with, but I guess we’re supposed to see that he’s already overwhelmed and doesn’t want to be part of this anymore? Geneva introduces him to a bunch of workers for the GJ movement that have actual titles-they’re practically a corporation now, then drags him inside where he’s going to make a press statement and take selfies with donors that gave one thousand dollars or more for his bail. Ian looks down at the index cards with his statement and reads aloud, “My harrowing and abusive time in jail? Prison was inspiring...” Geneva is officially his new Terror and dismisses anything he has to say. She tells him to just emphasize his oppression as a gay man and the daily violence he endured.” Which, yes, hello, that actually WOULD be his experience in jail, but the show chose to make it cute and sweet. Grrrr.

Ian doesn’t have a reply to that, I guess, so he looks at a map on the wall with a bunch of pins in it and asks what it is. Geneva tells him it’s where they’ve blown up vans, and they’re going to do more in his name. He seems genuinely upset. Guess he’s missing out on the fact that he could meet more fireman if he keeps blowing up vans-opportunity missed, John Wells!!!

Another disciple comes up to Geneva with an old timey prison striped shirt for Ian to put on for his statement. Just like Jerome wore for so many scenes in Gotham. I don’t know if the show thinks it’s a clever nod to Cam’s other job every time they do something like this, but to me it just pulls me out of the story and I go off on a thought tangent yet again, thinking about how much more realistic Gotham had handled all Cam’s prison stuff. But I digress. Ian says, “Am I allowed to take a piss?” which, really? That’s how the kids talk these days? He wouldn’t say “go to the bathroom”? Whatever. He goes into the bathroom, stares at his reflection because that must be in his contract, stuffs the prison shirt into the trash, flips down the baby changing table, and uses it to escape out the window, flashing the camera a shot of those ugly ass blue shoes with the gold heel coverings.

In his final scene of the night, Ian is sitting in the dark in the Gallagher kitchen, undoubtedly thinking about the huge-probably life altering-mistake he made. I’m referring of course, to when TPTB at Gotham sold him on the “Jerome has an unknown twin!” storyline. Carl comes up from the basement and the two of them share the most awkward scene since the British version of “The Matches”, as told by Eddie Izzard: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qfw60qXtOH0 Oh look! He’s wearing a spa kimono-like garment too!

Anyway, Cameron and Ethan stiltedly say some lines as if neither of them has ever acted before, and Carl goes to make his escape quite rapidly, but not before we get proof (not that we needed any) that no one’s been visiting Ian in prison, and that when Fiona visited, she didn’t bother keeping him up on family news in the 9 MONTHS he’s been gone.

Ian: Who’s the girl in my bed? Carl: Peyton List? (I know I was confused-Lip’s been sleeping in Ian’s bed, Xan’s over in the corner where Carl and Kassidi-remember her? She’s dead now-slept.) Let me try again:

Carl: That’s Xan-Lip’s kid. Ian:... Doesn’t really react to that either. I HOPE what all this is driving at is that Ian doesn’t feel like he belongs anywhere anymore-he doesn’t want to be part of the huge nationwide movement that Gay Jesus has turned into, he shouldn’t want to be in jail/prison even if there will always be gay men there, he doesn’t belong at “home” where they don’t even have a bed for him and all the kids except Liam are out of the nest now. For Ian, home is not a place, it’s a caring, loving man with blue eyes and an ass that won’t quit...

#Recap #Season Nein Episode 2

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alicedoessurveys · 5 years

Text

VERY long survey

Where have you lived throughout your life?

Birmingham UK

Do you find your job rewarding?

N/A

What kind of cake did you have for your last birthday?

chocolate

To you, which is better: English muffins or bagels?

I enjoy both, but bagels.

Do you paint your nails?

yes. although they're not painted at the moment because ive been cleaning the house so much the past couple days and its stripped my varnish off

What’s the last website you signed up for?

a dating thing

Do you check your email everyday?

yes, I cant stand having the little red number above the mail app

Have you created any pages on Facebook?

yes but I dont have them anymore

Is there a subject that you absolutely suck at?

every subject, but especially maths and science

What’s your favourite song by Dave Matthews Band?

I dont know any

Are there people you have absolutely nothing in common with, but still enjoy talking to?

I dot particularly enjoy talking to anyone :’)

Have you ever wandered around drunk with your friend?

yes, we wondered around through the middle of Birmingham at 4am

Are you good at holding back your laughter if needed?

haha nope

Have you ever been so unfortunate to suffer from a hangover?

yes

Have you ever had a panic attack?

many, I had to drop out of college because of them

Are you deathly allergic to anything?

nope

Have you ever had a mouse in your house?

nope

Do you know anyone who DOESN’T have an ex?

myself

Is anyone you know really religious?

my family

Are your eyebrows naturally thick?

yes

Has speaking in front of people ever made you sick?

not physically sick, but definitely felt it. the worst experience Ive had with speaking was in college when I had to give a speech then teach a 10 minute class. my throat totally dried up and I literally couldnt speak. everyone just stared at me and I was trying so hard not to cry. longest 10 minutes of my life and as soon as it finished I legged it out the room and burst into tears.

What was the last movie that made you teary-eyed?

Mary Poppins Returns almost got me but the last film to actually make me cry was Coco. That shit had me SOBBING!

Have you had two friends that absolutely hated each other?

yes

Has a laptop ever burned your legs?

not really, I put a cushion on my lap normally

Do you know anyone who has a scar through their eyebrow?

Who was the last person to flip you off?

probably rhys, as a joke

Anyone’s birthday coming up soon?

my dad turns 50 next week

Would you ever wear fake eyelashes?

I have done a few times but they annoy me

Are you good at following directions?

no no no I get confused very easily

Do you have someone that you can just act a fool with and not care?

yes rhys

From where you’re sitting, can you touch a wall?

if I reach behind me

When at a restaurant, do you put your napkin on your lap?

occasionally, it depends where I am and what im eating

Do you prefer electric or manual pencil sharpeners?

manual

Are your biceps at all noticeable?

they used to be before they went into hiding under a layer of fat

Have you ever seen a walrus?

nope

When it comes to dropping food, do you believe in the 10 second rule?

no, I believe in the ‘what food is it’ and ‘how dirty is the floor’ rules

If given the opportunity, would you ride on a camel?

yes. I was supposed to have gone on a camel ride in Tunisia ages ago but I was ill so we didn't get to go

Do you believe that cellphones actually do cause cancer?

they could be. the number of people getting cancer has gone up a lot since everyone has mobile phones

When people you know cry, does it make you feel like crying too?

depends who it is

Do you tend to jump to conclusions?

yes. Im an anxious person so im constantly overthinking and I also find people really hard to read and can get

Are you good at remembering your friends’ birthdays?

yes my brain cant remember important things but when it comes to dates its like a sponge

Is there something you need to do, that you’re trying to avoid doing?

getting a job

Ever pop someone else’s pimple?

ew no

How long does it take you to fall asleep?

about 15 minutes depending on how tired I am

Do you crack your neck often?

no that freaks me out

Did you have a weird dream last night?

not that I can remember, I have been having a lot of weird dreams this week because im ill

Who do you sometimes compare yourself to?

everyone. especially when im at the theatre, im constantly watching other people and wishing I could act like they can or look like them or have their style

Are you more worried about doing things right, or doing the right things?

both

In what way are you your own worst enemy?

every way, I dont look after myself at all

What activities make you lose track of time?

sims

When you help someone do you ever think, “What’s in it for me?”

not really

Who do you tell your secrets to?

these surveys

Who do you live with?

my parents and our foster kids

When did/will you graduate?

I didn't

When are you moving next?

I have no idea. probably never

When is the last time you took a vitamin?

this morning, im fighting a cold

Why are you stressed?

im not too bad right now tbh

Do you need to return anyone’s phone call?

nope

Where do you keep your birth certificate?

no clue, my mom has it somewhere

How many books are in your room?

a lot. I have quite a few on display and a whole bunch hidden away in my closet because theres no space for them anywhere else. I'll include some photos of the books in my room;

(the book on my bedside table in the second picture is actually a lamp that lights up when you open it)

Have you ever been IN a wedding?

nope

What was the last thing you laughed out loud at?

probably my mom

Do you have a nickname? Why?

my family call my bongy or Ali bong, I dont know why.. (my name is Alice)

Have you ever had a bad concert experience?

nope

When was the last time someone told you that you were beautiful/good-looking? Do people often tell you this?

my mom tells me almost every day but Im like youre my mom of course you would say that

Are you missing someone of the opposite sex atm?

Want someone back in your life?

meh

Are you currently sad about anything?

actually nope

Are you wearing anything shiny?

my pj top has glittery silver letters on

How important is a sense of humor in a significant other?

very, I fall very easily for people who make me laugh

How many followers do you have on Twitter?

198 (@alicethenerd if ya wanna follow 😉)

Do you sleep with the door open or closed?

closed. I aint about letting those murderers and monsters just waltz straight in easy peasy

Have you ever been to the beach?

yes every summer since I was a kid

Can you handle blood?

nope

Do you pay your bills or do your parents?

I pay my own bills. no way my dad would be up for paying my bills, he already digs at me constantly about the fact that I live rent free even though I look after the foster kids and tidy the house more than he does

What’s your best friend’s middle name?

Connor

Has any place hired you underage for a job?

not officially

Have you ever barely passed a grade/year in school?

yes

Have you ever carried a concealed weapon?

Have you ever tried to sell something overpriced to someone?

Do you plan to become very wealthy some day?

I hope to become wealthy enough to not worry about having enough money to put fuel in my car anymore and to be able to pay back my parents and grandad for everything they've done for me

Do you remember your first time going to the movies?

no, but my earliest cinema memory was going to watch Monsters Inc with my dad when it was first released

Does eating breakfast make you sick?

if I try to eat before a certain time yes

Are you dying to say something to someone right this minute?

not dying to nope

Book series you enjoyed reading recently?

im reading eve of man atm which apparently is going to be a series

Do you enjoy lying in the grass during the summer, and just existing?

I prefer lying on a blanket, I dont like the feel of grass and I dont like the bugs crawling around

Do you have a passport? If so, how many stamps do you have in it?

yes, it doesn't have many stamps in because I lost the one that did have lots in and I havent been away much since getting the new one

Are there any keys on your keyboard that have letters fading away?

nope

Do any of your close friends have children?

What do you plan on having for dinner?

we already had dinner, we had chippy

Do you like Chinese food, or do you find it disgusting?

I only really like one meal

Have the police ever come knocking on your door looking for someone?

actually yes, literally a few weeks ago

Know anybody who works in a tattoo parlor?

yes, my second cousin

Have you ever played flashlight tag?

ive never heard of it

Could you call yourself a movie buff?

not really, im a huge movie fan but theres still a lot I need to see

Have you ever had a piercing get infected?

never had a piercing

Do you check your fire alarms when you’re supposed to?

dad does it

Are you a shorts wearing kind of person?

nope nope nope, my legs are not suitable for public viewing :’)

Is your grandparents’ house obsessively tidy?

not really no. my nan and grandpa’s house is always neat but not obsessively neat. my grandads house is full of clutter because my nan was a hoarder

About how much can you bench press?

I dont know, I havent lifted in years

Have you ever had your phone die on you in the middle of a conversation?

yes

Is anybody in your family a carpenter?

Are you avoiding someone?

yes

Do you call your boyfriend “Monkey”?

I dont have a boyfriend but if I did I doubt id call him monkey

What’s your favorite primary color?

yellow #hufflepuffpride

What were you for Halloween?

nothing, I didn't dress up

Do you have any clothes from Walmart?

nope, we dont have Walmart here

When did you get a Facebook?

about 10 years ago

What color are your eyes?

green/hazel

What motivates you?

happiness

Can you walk in heels?

nope

When was the last time someone asked you your age?

the other day, my own mother forgot how old I was

Do you keep a journal?

not really

Have you ever tried a weird flavor of vodka?

never had vodka

Do you wear a ring on your finger?

occasionally

What are you doing?

watching ‘the greatest dancer’ and wondering if this survey is ever going to end

What’s the last kind of soup you ate?

tomato

Do you currently have a sunburn?

no. its winter

Who did you last text?

my sister

Who’d you last call? About what?

my mom, to ask her to come downstairs and let the dogs out because the baby was asleep on me and there was no way I was going to risk waking her up

Are you currently frustrated with someone?

yes

Do you drink water or soda more often?

water

Do you straighten your hair?

yes

When did you last talk to your brother or sister?

today

What is your least favorite vegetable?

all of them

Outside of family, name 3 people that make you smile/laugh often.

Rhys, Addison, Jacob

In school, what subjects did you achieve your highest grades in?

Was there a subject that you enjoyed, but weren’t too good at?

I didn't really enjoy any subjects at school

When was the last time something didn’t go to plan? What happened?

today. I had planned to deep clean the bathroom but I went super dizzy and had to give up half way through cleaning

Do you have any children? If not, at what age do you think you’ll feel ready to be a parent?

I dont but I am seriously considering adopting one of our foster babies atm. I want to adopt anyway, theres no way I could be pregnant

When was the last time you bought a new item of clothing?Describe it.

I honestly cant remember, im due a shopping trip

Was your last Facebook friend request from a male or female?

female

Do you have an item of clothing that makes you feel especially beautiful? Describe it.

not really no

Think of the last person that betrayed you. If they said they were sorry, would you forgive them?

I would cautiously forgive him but I would also make sure he knew that how he treated me was not okay and that he really upset me and this would be his last chance. but tbh I think hes done with me so 🤷🏻‍♀️

Nastiest thing you’ve ever done?

I dont know, I dont like being nasty

Have you ever been in a lighthouse?

nope

What colour is your shower?

I think its silver, ive ever actually noticed

Where do you order your pizza from?

dominos

When is the last time you had a serious talk with someone?

few days ago

Do you find that you have a certain meal you eat every time you go to certain restaurants?

yes, im a creature of habit

What colour is your bike?

silver & purple

What word can you not stand to hear people say?

the c word, I cant even type it

What room of your house are you in?

living room

What is the temperature in your city right now?

9°c

When did you last use a post-it-note?

last week in the script for the show im currently working on

Would you ever want to own your own restaurant?

yes

Do you have a fan in your bedroom?

no I dont like them, they make too much noise

Who is the last person that you took a picture with?

one of our foster kids

When is the last time you were stuck in a fairly long traffic jam?

the weekend before christmas

Do you have certain friends that you hug every time you see them?

not many

When was your most recent trip to an aquarium?

almost two years ago

What do you like in your salads and what dressing do you prefer?

I dont like salads

If it has one, do you ever use the notepad function in your phone?

all the time, Im constantly writing lists or reminders to myself

How good would you say your memory is?

long term good, short term bad

About how many times during the night do you wake up from your sleep?

a few times

Are there any air fresheners in your house? What kinds?

multiple, we have plugs in and sprays and those automatic ones that go off every 15 minutes

What’s one thing you’re glad you’ve done recently?

done my laundry :’) im on my last pair of pants!

Have you ever done something sexual that you regret?

Do you like to sit in the sun and tan when it’s hot out?

not really, I dont like being too hot

Ever had a person who was obsessed with you so much that it scared you?

Can you drive, and if you can, do you like it?

yes, I love driving most of the time

Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret?

Do you like french fries?

yes

Have you ever eaten so much you puked?

not since I was a kid

Do you care about what others think of your physical appearance?

annoyingly yes

Would you rather go to Greece or France?

greece

#survey #long #very fucking long

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qethnehzul · 6 years

Text

Tongues - Chapter V

Stone turned in? Check. Money received? Check. No strings attached? Also check.

Overall, Casil was rather pleased. Nobody had asked any more questions about what they’d come in and said earlier, Farengar didn’t seem interested in trapping them there, and they were paid for retrieving the rock - with a bonus that Casil had also managed to grab an inscription of what was on the rock itself, for herself.

So, of course, it was impossible for things to continue going so swimmingly, and Casil really wasn’t sure why she thought it would for the brief moment it took for her and Sterlas to get halfway across the Jarl’s hall.

The doors to Whiterun slammed open, making Casil lurch back in surprise. Sterlas bumped into her, almost knocking her over in his own alarm. A guard came stumbling in, panting and drenched in sweat as he tried to walk up the short flight of stairs to the main level.

“A dragon!” he managed to huff out as loudly as he could. “There’s a dragon!”

Casil couldn’t resist throwing a rather mortified look back at Sterlas. Oh no, no no. By the eight Divine, couldn’t this have waited just a few minutes more for Sterlas and Casil to have left? The look Sterlas was giving Casil made her certain he felt the same.

Casil shifted to try to push Sterlas along, hoping to get to the side of the hall so they could worm their way out before they got dragged into anything, but the crowd of people swarming around them as the guard approached made it impossible for either to slink away unnoticed.

“Where?” Irileth gasped, getting up from where she sat at the ends of one of the long tables. The suddenness and sharpness of her motion caused some of the silver goblets in front of her to crash to the table with a clink, spilling their contents across the table’s surface.

“The Western Watchtower. I ran here as fast as I could,” the guard said between breaths, his hands on his knees.

Casil tried to scoot backwards, but Farengar managed to walk up behind them and finish boxing them into the group that had gathered to listen to the news.

“A dragon? In Whiterun?” Farengar asked in excitement, peering over Casil with wide eyes.

Casil shrunk down, fighting back rolling her eyes at the man. He just had to wait and then he too no doubt would be as unpleased as Casil and Sterlas were to hear about this.

Irileth motioned for the guard to follow her, turning to head up one of the sets of stairs that lead from the main hall to the back sections of Dragonsreach. She paused though, turning to look at Casil and Sterlas. “You two, come with me,” she said, motioning for them to follow as well.

Casil was sure she turned as white as a sheet. Her heart sunk. Oh shit. She tried not to let her face scrunch up too much in displeasure at that, throwing Sterlas another look before she was unable to prevent her lips from curling into a tight frown. They weren’t really getting a option to get out of this one, were they? She could feel all the eyes staring at her, and she supposed at the end of the day she had done this to herself. And the look Sterlas was giving her said that he blamed her for this.

“Hurry up!” Irileth barked from the top of the stairs, glaring at the two as they debated on making a break for it.

Casil exhaled sharply, hurrying up after the dunmer. Nope, they weren’t getting a choice. Sterlas followed after her, just as uneasy.

Casil could hear the tail end of the guard explaining what was going on to the Jarl as the reached the top of the stairs. The guard was dismissed, and the Jarl turned to face Casil and Sterlas.

“I know you two have just come back from traveling, and it may be much to ask this of you, but I want you to help Irileth and the guards face the dragon. You two are the only ones with any experience with dragons,” Jarl Balgruuf said firmly, arms folded across his chest.

Casil was certain the Jarl himself had ripped out any last hope that she could worm her way out of this. She swallowed hard, turning to Sterlas quickly. ‘Maybe we can run for it while they’re fighting,’ Casil signed in mild panic.

Sterlas’s eyes flitted between Casil’s sign language and the two behind her, feeling sweat bead on his brow. “Uh-,” he stammered for a moment. “I-uh-. I mean. We’ve only seen a dragon…” he tried to begin awkwardly. The look of expectation in the Jarl and Irileth’s eyes made him feel like he was about to be executed on the spot for anything but a ‘yes’.

“Still, that is more than what anyone else has. Please. This is for the people of Whiterun,” Jarl Balgruuf said, a frown appearing on his face.

Casil gave Sterlas her own look of panic, backed turned in hopes the other two wouldn’t see it.

“Y-yeah. Alright. Uh. I mean, yes my Jarl,” Sterlas said in panic, turning sharply. He grabbed Casil’s wrist and quickly started to head back down the stairs, feeling the stares of the other two drill holes into the back of his skulls. Immediately they could hear Irileth following behind them. Nope, she was not going to let them run from this.

‘What do we do? What do we do?’ Casil signed over and over in panic when Sterlas’s grip allowed it.

He gave her a wide-eyed stare and shrugged. He was as lost as she was. He just raised his other hand to point at her. If anyone was going to figure it out or take blame, it was her. She wanted to play hero by bringing the news anyhow.

Casil pouted, looking somewhat offended. But he wasn’t wrong, and maybe that’s what Casil hated the most about it. She just upturned her lip and tried to focus ahead, her brain scrambling for some sort of solution to whatever it was that they were about to get thrown into.

Irileth had gathered a small regiment of guards to meet at Whiterun’s gate. Night had fallen shortly before they’d arrived back in the city to turn in the stone, and many of the guards carried torches in their hand. To Casil and Sterlas’s relief, this also meant that the streets were almost vacant. The fewer people to see this go down to cause a panic, the better. Casil and Sterlas loitered in the back of the group, paying no mind to Irileth as she delivered her motivational speech to the men.

Casil fidgeted uneasily, her eyes darting around. She had not wanted to get into this. She should have stayed quiet. She was no hero- she never had been - and now she was going to get herself killed like one. By being a idiot and going to go shake a stick at a dragon or something. Casil liked to think of herself as a fairly decent mage and necromancer, but she was really doubting any of that meant anything against a real dragon. Not like she could just whip necromancy out in front of Whiterun’s guards either! What was she left with? Fire. That was about it. Casil shrunk in on herself slowly, her mouth drawing into a thin line.

Sterlas couldn’t blame Casil’s nervousness. He was scared shitless himself, but by the eight he wasn’t about to let Casil know that. If he lost his cool, there was no way Casil would stick around. She’d probably just panic and light Whiterun on fire before booking it. He puffed his chest up, trying to seem like things were going to be fine.

They weren’t. He knew that. He couldn’t even turn into a werewolf in front of the guards. He was armed with a somewhat dull shortsword he kept on him more for looks than anything, and while he could fight with it he really was out of practice. And against a dragon? Sterlas was certain he was probably as well off if he decided to just punch the lizard.

“We’ve got this,” Sterlas muttered, leaning over to her.

Casil threw him a skeptical look. ‘I can’t believe this is how I die,’ Casil signed to him, finally letting out a exhale that blew a few loose strands of her hair out of her face.

Sterlas shrugged. “Hey, if ya do, at least people will remember it, right?” Sterlas teased quietly, nudging Casil with his elbow.

Casil swayed, trying to ignore it as the gate opened and the guards started to head out. Irileth threw a look over her shoulder aimed at Sterlas and Casil, making sure the two followed. Casil made a forced smile back at her, waiting until Irileth was looking ahead again before she just made one more look of despair at Sterlas.

Well, this was going to be interesting.

Casil had been anticipating the Western Watchtower to be up in flames like Helgen was, but to her shock it wasn’t. Half of the tower had been toppled over, but instead of flames giant spires of ice grew out of the sides of the tower. Frost hung heavy in the air, and parts of the stone looked dangerously close to cracking with the expansion of the ice.

The party stopped a little ways from the tower, trying to get a grasp on the situation. Irileth looked to Casil and Sterlas, brow arched sharply. “Didn’t you say the dragon you saw at Helgen set it on fire?” She questioned, a dangerous edge in her voice. The fire of her torch danced in her red eyes, making Casil uneasy.

Casil nodded, frowning as she looked over at the tower and the ice crystals stretching up towards the sky.

“Ya think there’s another dragon…?” Sterlas questioned lowly, scratching his beard as he gave the sky a uneasy glance.

“Not the same dragon…?” One of the guards questioned.

Casil grimaced. She didn’t want to think about more than one dragon.

“Like I feared. There may be more than one,” Irileth said, sighing. She gripped her sword, before drawing it. “One dragon or one hundred, we are here to protect Whiterun. Let’s go, men. Keep your eyes sharp,” Irileth commanded, before hurrying towards the tower.

Sterlas took a deep breath and drew his sword. “Let’s go kill a dragon, Casil,” he said, trying his best to sound confident. He looked to her and tried to give her best assured smile, but even then Casil could see the fear in his eyes.

She swallowed hard, nodding as she let fire ignite in her hands. The two of them rushed after the rest of the guards.

The guards had spread out around the tower, approaching it cautiously as they tried to figure out where their target was.

A guard came stumbling out of the tower. “He’s still here!” They cried, voice hoarse. “It grabbed Geilmar and Brarknir when they tried to run- I lost sight of it- I don’t know where it went, but it has to be around here somewhere-” The man began.

A sudden snarl and a howling blast of ice cut him off. Under the cover of darkness, the dragon had circled back around, and before most could spot it it had taken a steep dive down, coating the tower with another thick layer of ice. The guard was frozen solid where he stood.

Casil quickly moved and ducked down behind some of the tower rubble as the dragon ascended back into the sky with a mighty roar. Sterlas quickly joined her, trying to help her spot where the dragon had taken off too. She caught a glint of its ice-white scales in the moonlight as it circled back around. Carefully, she pointed it out to Sterlas, staying in cover as she waited for the monster to come back down. The guards quickly tried to spot it themselves and position themselves, but many did not see it in time. The dragon dove down again, blitzing the ground with a stream of ice and frost. Casil stood up from her cover, hurling a pair of fireballs at it as it passed by. One fireball whizzed past the monster entirely, fizzling out in the night sky while the other only managed to graze a wing, leaving a shower of sparks across the white leathery webbing before fading out as well. Casil dropped back down behind cover as the dragon took off again, making a face. Sterlas watched as the arrows from the guard’s bows did just as poorly, none of them finding their mark or sticking.

The dragon let out a throaty laugh, sounding like the deep rumble of a breaking glacier. The dragon made a sudden turn, steering sharply to head back to the tower. Casil’s eyes widened in panic. It was coming right towards them. The two of managed to jump back over the rocks just in time for the monster to land near where they had been, making the earth shake below it. The beast’s mighty head raised up, twisting around to look at Sterlas as he rushed out from behind his cover to attack. Sterlas made a quick swing for the monster’s wing. The sword cut through some of the webbing, but even then the dragon seemed disinterested. With little effort, it extended its wing out sharply, slamming it into Sterlas’s chest with enough force to knock him back a few feet.

Sterlas winced. He began to sit up before he felt the icy chill of ice next to him. Narrowly, he managed to roll out of the way, just missing a sudden geyser of ice that jutted up out of the ground where he’d just been.

“Thuri du hin sil ko Sovengarde!” The dragon roared, spreading his wings out wide. The guards tried to move in on him, but again their arrows largely just bounced off of his scales. The beast chuckled, clearly amused by their meager attempts to slay him.

Casil looked to Sterlas, but she didn’t have time to worry about him. She saw electricity crackle around the dragon’s form, filling the air with the smell of burned ozone before a sudden blast of blizzard-like wind ripped through the surrounding area, raining razor-sharp ice shards down at frightening speeds. Casil’s eyes widened, and she threw herself down behind the nearest piece of rock. She threw up a mage shield, but it certainly wasn’t enough to stop all of the ice. She could feel permafrost bite at her fingers and exposed skin, and a few of the large ice spikes found themselves embedded in her leg. She let out a choked cry of pain, reaching down to grab at the wound.

The dragon took off with a mighty beat of its wings, sending debris and frost flying in all directions. The beast circled up to land on top of the tower, sending some of the loose rock cascading down. It raised his head up, puffing its scaly chest out pridefully. “Zu’u Mirmulnir! Krif krin. Pruzah!” It rumbled, inhaling before releasing a mighty stream of ice from its maw.

Casil pulled a bloody shard of ice out of her leg, pushing the pain aside as she turned her attention to the dragon. She hurled another fireball up at Mirmulnir, and this time the attack landed and nailed him in the face. The dragon snarled, his face jerking to the side and sending the stream of ice off to the side and away from a handful of guards he’d been aiming at. Mirmulnir growled lowly, his bright blue eyes snapping angrily to Casil as if she’d personally offended him. Casil threw another fireball, and this one landed between his eyes. He grimaced, his lips drawing back to flash off rows of razor-sharp teeth. To her surprise, he chuckled and shook the embers from his snout before spreading his giant wings out. He took to the sky once more, and electricity crackled around his body.

Casil managed to roll around the other side of the rock, pressing as close to it as she could. Ice rained down from above, crashing against the stone and the ground around her with a deafening thunder. She waited until the ground had stopped shaking before pushing herself back up, quickly finding the dragon up in the sky before throwing another ball of fire at him.

Her attack missed, and the dragon ignored it this time. He circled around to rain a blizzard down at some of the remaining guards, and Casil had a brief moment to take in the damage around her.

Ice shards ranging from a few inches to a full foot jutted out of the ground, and most of the earth around the tower was at least coated in frost, if not a inch or two of ice. Guards lay scattered under several layers of ice, and only a few with Irileth remained standing.

Casil pursed her lips, leaning against the rock. Things weren’t going well. Her orange eyes darted across the field. She couldn’t spot Sterlas either. If he was one of the bodies under the ice, it was too thick to tell. She shook that thought out of her mind. She didn’t want to think that Sterlas could be one of those bodies.

Casil focus fire between her hands, watching the dragon as he circled around again. She drew on her deep pool of magicka, holding the flame between her hands until she was certain of her shot. She hurled the giant ball as Mirmulnir flew near. The fire nailed into his side, making him hiss in pain. Quickly, he turned and headed towards Casil.

“You are brave. Bahlaan hokoron,” he growled. He tucked his wings in, diving down before taking a deep inhale.

Casil braced herself, but instead of releasing a stream of ice the dragon was knocked off course by sudden flash of fur. The dragon snarled in pain as claws dug into his maw, dragging down his scales. The dragon managed to land, staggering before he violently shook his head as Sterlas tried to get a swipe in at his eye with his claws. Apparently, he’d given up on the sword after the first swing, but before he could get in a good shot as a werewolf Mirmulnir shook him off. Sterlas landed on the ground, wincing but righting himself quickly.

Mirmulnir shook some of the blood off his snout, raising his head up with another chuckle. “I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide!” He laughed, scales rattling.

Casil threw another fireball at him before he could act again. The attack hit him in the chest, drawing his attention to Casil again - and away from Sterlas. Sterlas used the opening to bound back over, leaping up onto the fallen stones so he could make a jump at Mirmulnir’s face. Once more, he latched onto the beast’s snout, and the full weight of his attack pulled the dragon over and onto his side with a roar of anger.

Casil looked to the remaining guards and Irileth, making a motion with her hands in hopes they would hurry over while the dragon was down.

Mirmulnir shook his head violently again, trying to get Sterlas off as he tried to push himself back up. Sterlas held on, digging his claws into Mirmulnir’s nostrils to hold on. The dragon’s tail lashed from side to side, keeping many of the guards back. The guards raised their bows, trying to take shots while he was mostly still.

Sterlas dug his claws in deeper before releasing one nostril, lashing out with another swipe to Mirmulnir’s eyes. The blow landed, and Mirmulnir let out a howl of agony as the werewolf’’s claws sunk in. He suddenly jerked forward, charging in the direction of the tower in hopes of crushing Sterlas against the stone to make him fall off. Sterlas whipped his head around, and with a great haul he managed to pull himself up on the dragon’s face. He ran up the length of the dragon’s face before jumping down to the dragon’s back and off just in time for the dragon to slam full force into the tower. The tower shuddered and finally gave out, raining giant stones down onto the monster below. Mirmulnir snarled in pain as the giant stones crushed into his scales, making even the mighty beast buckle under their weight. He tried to shake them off, blindly releasing a stream of ice from his maw.

Casil winced as the ice grazed her, but she was determined to finish this while the monster was trapped. She pushed forward, limping towards the pinned dragon. She could faintly see it try to get out from under an avalanche of stone, its tail still thrashing around from where it remained relatively free. He was riddled with arrows, and blood poured down his face from the gouges Sterlas had given him. Sterlas was making his route back to attack again, but the dragon’s eye was locked on Casil.

The fire between Casil’s hands burned brighter, and at last she released it. Unable to get out of the way, the fire made contact in a great explosion of embers and flame. The dragon let out another roar of pain, before his remaining eye went wide.

“Dovahkiin?” The dragon suddenly hissed as his head began to fall. “No!” The word came out as a pained hissed, before his head hit the stones with a resounding thud.

Casil did not get a chance to question if the beast was finally dead.

Casil felt a unfamiliar tugging sensation in the pit of her chest. The world seemed to tunnel vision onto the dragon, who’s scales had started to flake off with a bright red-orange glow. Casil took a single step forward and staggered, and for a moment she swore she could see a golden-purple wind exit the decaying frame of the dragon. It whirled towards her, hitting her with a force that knocked the breath out of her lungs. Casil’s eyes went wide, unable to catch her breath as she was filled with a indescribable sensation. A flood of power, of energy, of life. Everything around her spun, and her skin felt like pins and needles through the bite of ice. She could feel every hair on her body stand on end, and for a brief moment it felt like she’d woken anew.

When at last the sensation had faded, the dragon’s body was nothing more than a few

sorry lengths of sinew and bone.

Casil reached up and grabbed her chest, falling to her knees, as she stared wide-eyed at the skeleton. Sterlas bounded over to her in worry, his disgusting wet nose immediately smashed into Casil’s face until she managed to reach up to place a hand on his head to assure him it was alright.

Irileth and the handful of remaining guards slowly approached, a look of awe and uncertainty on the faces of those without closed helmets.

Sterlas looked at them, ears pinning back on his head before crouched down next to Casil in hopes they wouldn’t turn on him. Casil reached up to hold Sterlas’s fur, looking to the others with a sort of baffled look.

For a moment, the guards couldn’t seem to decide on what to do. Between the dead dragon, the werewolf, and whatever it was that Casil had just gone through…

The later won out.

“You… you absorbed the dragon’s soul,” a guard whispered after shakily managing to light another torch.

Casil furrowed her brow in confusion, wrapping her arms around Sterlas’s thick neck for support.

“Only the dragonborn are supposed to be able to absorb the souls of dragons,” another guard said lowly, shifting his weary eyes to the werewolf and then to Casil.

“Then… perhaps she is dragonborn?” The first guard said.

One of the few other guards gave the other two men an angry look as he shifted to check on the fallen. “You don’t believe those old myths, do you?” he grumbled. “Besides, she’s a wood elf. Those are nordic myths!”

“But the dragons are back!” The first man called. “What else would you call what she just did?”

Two of the other guards shook their heads, giving Casil and Sterlas a wide berth anyways to go tend to the wreckage of the tower.

Sterlas finally pulled Casil to her feet. The guards didn’t seem like they were willing to tangle with him right now, and it should have at least been obvious that he was with Casil. Casil glanced from the guards to Irileth, trying to steady her breathing.

Irileth stood on one of the giant stones of the tower, sheathing her sword as she looked down at the skeletal remains of the dragon. After a moment, she looked back. “All I know is that there was a dragon, and there isn’t anymore. We have slain it. And that means that dragons can be killed. That’s enough for me,” she said gruffly, hopping down from the rock. “I want some of you to stay here and keep watch over the fort. Salvage what you can. I will send a dispatch to help you.” She looked to Sterlas and Casil, opening her mouth before pausing when she finally got a good look at Sterlas. “Is… is that-”

Casil waved her hand at Irileth tiredly, giving the werewolf a pat on the side to hopefully show that he was friendly. She started to walk, but Sterlas pushed his head into her back, making her stumble over. He caught her and threw her onto his back with ease before continuing down the path, letting Casil sit on his shoulders.

Irileth watched with a bit of shock, her jaw dropped. Slowly, she let out a long sigh, before shaking her head and following after the other two. “We need to report to the Jarl. I hope you don’t mind accompanying me for that. We can find you board in Dragonsreach for the night too, of course, assuming…” she trailed off, trying to find the right word for the werewolf. “The… dog… doesn’t… cause problems…” She cleared her throat. “That is your companion from earlier, right?”

Casil nodded, causing Sterlas to glare at her a bit. She shrugged at him. It wasn’t like she was left with much of a choice. She pat his head, hoping Irileth would understand that as some sort of reassuring symbol of peacefulness on Sterlas’s behalf. If she got it, Irileth didn’t say anything. She just continued to give Casil and Sterlas a look of concern, and at that stage Casil was too tired to care. As long as Sterlas wasn’t hurt, she didn’t care.

The only time silence was broken was as the three made their way up the stairs to Dragonsreach. The otherwise clear sky suddenly split with a earth-shaking rumble that rolled across the sky like thunder. “Dovahkiin!”

The voice shook people from their beds and sent birds screaming and dogs barking, but nobody was as afraid by the sudden call as Casil was. She almost jumped off of Sterlas’s back, and immediately a sinking feeling in her gut told her that whatever had just happened had set something in motion that she wasn’t going to be able to stop.

Casil tangled her fingers tightly into Sterlas’s shaggy fur, making him wince at the tightness of her grip. His ears pinned down against his head, trying to turn back and look at her once the last echoes of the voice had gone.

Casil wasn’t looking. Her eyes remained turned to the sky, even after Irlieth and Sterlas started to move again to get inside as quickly as they could. Something was happening.

She should have just stayed at home.

The doors to Dragonsreach opened up with the greatest of hesitation, allowing Irileth, Casil and Sterlas inside of the grand hall.

Casil had been hoping that few would still be up, but no thanks to that loud noise, most people were nervously lingering around the edges of the main hall. Many of those out there, including the maids and a few children, were in their nightgowns, clearly having just awoken. People pressed back into their rooms as Sterlas passed by, and she could here amazed and horrified whispering of children from the balcony above. She glanced up at the two young children, possibly the Jarl’s own, who were peering out from between the balcony bars. They shrunk back when Casil’s gaze fell on them, looking a tad frightened.

The Jarl stiffened as the three approached, and the guards on either side of the Jarl put their hands on their weaponry.

Irileth waved the guards down, giving Sterlas one more uneasy glance before she walked up and knelt down in front of the Jarl. Sterlas stopped behind her, leaning over so Casil could slide off of his back.

“Is… is it dead?” Jarl Balgruuf asked, tense.

‘No, it’s alive and we just ran back here. Of course it’s dead,’ Casil signed, feeling a little snappy with her exhaustion.

“Yes, it is. The watchtower is mostly destroyed and will need to be rebuilt, but the dragon was slain. Its bones lay in the tower ruins. I left the guards who survived to begin cleaning, and sent more to relieve them and assist with the efforts already,” Irileth said, before standing up.

Sterlas shook himself off before his body contorted inhumanly, his bones cracking and resettling as he returned back to his human form. The children on the balcony squealed, pattering back to their rooms at the sight. Sterlas couldn’t help but chuckle before he stretched, making his whole body creak just a bit more. “Let’s not make fightin’ those a habit, Casil,” he said, pushing his dreads back into place. “I’m gonna be feelin’ it for weeks.”

Jarl Balgruuf slowly relaxed back into his seat once Sterlas had returned back to his normal form, albeit he looked a tad disturbed by the whole transformation and realization that the man was a werewolf. “What happened?” He questioned, clearly interested.

Irileth glanced to Casil, seeing if she wanted to explain.

Well, if she was apparently the resident dragon expert… Casil lifted her hands, a bit sluggish with exhaustion, but she was willing to explain.

“It was hiding in the night sky. It attacked with ice, and not fire like the first one we encountered. Casil says it spoke some stuff in the dragon language, but she doesn’t know all of the words. She wants to translate ‘em later. Says its name sounded like it was… uh…” Sterlas began before he trailed off, squinting at her as she spelled out his name.

Casil glared at him, slowing her hand motions down for him to read.

“Mal… no.. Mir… Mirmulnir. Look Casil, I don’t speak none of that crazy dragon shit alright? I ain’t got any idea how that shit’s spelled,” he whined in defense.

Casil rolled her eyes and continued.

“Uh- we slayed it by crushin’ it under the tower. Some weird stuff happened after it died though. The guards said they think she might be uh… dragonborn? Something like that. When we killed the dragon, it just crumbled to a skeleton and somethin’ jumped from the dragon into her.”

Whispers immediately erupted from the bystanders in the hall, making Casil stop and look around in unease. People talking about myths, people saying it was crazy talk, people scalding the children for still being up. The steward started to get into a argument with one of the guards next to Jarl Balgruuf, and he quickly stopped the discussion.

“Enough. It doesn’t matter if they are or are not the dragonborn,” Jarl Balgruuf said shortly, making the hall hush down again.

Casil flinched and scooted a bit closer to Sterlas, feeling relieved for once that she had someone else with her that she trusted. If she’d been alone like she used to be, she’d have felt too exposed.

Jarl Balgruuf paused, looking Casil over for a moment. The look made Casil shifted her weight, feeling like he was expecting something out of her. “If you are the dragonborn though, it would explain why the Greybeards called.”

Casil’s lips pursed tightly. The Greybeards. She’d heard of them before in her travels through Skyrim, but she’d never investigated them or paid them any mind. But she knew enough about them to know that the implications of this weren’t good.

“You should answer their calling, if you truly believe it was for you. No doubt their call is of great importance,” Jarl Balgruuf said with a firm nod. “Now, onto the matter of what we do know.” He got to his feet. “Without your help, I doubt we would have known about the dragon in time and, perhaps, we would not have been able to kill it either. For that, I thank you on behalf of all of Whiterun. The hold is in your debt for your heroism,” he said, nodding his head. “It is a great honor to have you at our sides. Now, I am sure you are exhausted.” He motioned to one of the maids still working around the hall. “See to it that these two have the proper room for the night. They deserve the best rest they can get,” he said, nodding his head to Casil and Sterlas before turning to walk up the stairs in the back of the room. “Now, if you would excuse me. I need to attend to other matters now.”

Irileth turned and nodded to Casil and Sterlas before following after Jarl Balgruuf, a few others who seemed to have stayed up to await the news following in tow as well.

Casil looked up to Sterlas with a soft sigh. Sterlas glanced at her, before shooting her a grin. They’d made it through, hadn’t they?

#tongues - fic #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim #the elder scrolls #tes #Warnings:#Violence #Characters:#Casil #Sterlas #Chapters #Writing

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theliterateape · 3 years

Text

Gambling with the Currency at Hand

by Don Hall

At every casino in Las Vegas there are these pamphlets. Usually hidden away behind a sign that indicates that one must inspect their sports ticket before leaving the Sportsbook or a promotion for “$30,000 Credit for Gaming” with four paragraphs of fine print underneath. These trifold informational pieces are colored in a dull brown and beige — a sunset photo — with a muted title: “When the Fun Stops”.

“Some problem gamblers may gamble to relieve boredom or avoid feelings of anxiousness or stress. Others may gamble to ‘numb out’ when feeling helpless, guilty, or depressed.” — from “When the Fun Stops” by The Nevada Council on Problem Gambling

In a year and a half of working in an Off-Strip casino flanked by an In-and-Out Burger, a Wendy’s, and a Siegel Suites, I never saw a single soul pick one up and peruse its contents.

The marketing of Las Vegas has promoted an adult playground of gambling, booze, and sex sans accountability for decades. From the days of the Rat Pack to the glamour of Steve Wynn, the city has made its bones on these core values. For every tourist from Japan or Iowa, however, there is someone who lives here in the grimy shadow of weekend fun, either cleaning up the mess left behind or searching through the refuse for something missed as the hungover travelers disembark.

Debra worked in HR for a local company for years. She was born in New Jersey and moved to Nevada in the early 2000’s with her sister. Her life was relatively average — some bills, a mortgage, car payments — nothing beyond her means. One day she slipped and injured herself in a Big Box store and sued. She won an insurance claim just north of a million dollars.

She planned on living off of this payout through her retirement. She paid off some loans, bought a car, financed a home for she and her sister. No more working for a living was almost a daily mantra. This life, however, bored her beyond words. They were in Vegas, after all, and the sirens of slot winnings sung their tune.

Five years later, most of the million dollars has been spent on video poker. Debra is broke but still plays three times a week with money she no longer has for money she won’t see again.

"Most people who gamble do so with no harmful effects. They set limits and stick to them. However, for a small percentage of the population, gambling can become more than a game, and lead to serious consequences for both the gambler and their family.

Here are some of the warning signs:

Gambling to escape worry or trouble Gambling to get money to solve financial difficulties Unable to stop playing regardless of winning or losing Gambling until the last dollar is gone Losing time from work due to gambling Borrowing money to pay gambling debts Neglecting family because of gambling Lying about time and money spent gambling" — from “When the Fun Stops” by The Nevada Council on Problem Gambling

Teddy was a Big Deal in the world of fossil fuel safety protocol. It ain’t Tom Cruise or Barack Obama territory but it had paid extremely well for a long time. He was a hefty man with a booming laugh and a warm smile that sort of expanded his charm two or three feet around him.

When Teddy came there were some rules. This guy spent so much money in one sitting the General Manager would comment that if Teddy wanted everyone in the casino out so he could play in peace they’d be escorted off the property until Teddy was done. It never came to that but the rules were simple:

Teddy played the two ‘Dancing Drums’ slots exclusively, so the machines on either side were shut off.

He drank Sierra Mist and was on a constant refill protocol.

He was gregarious but didn’t want to be bothered by anyone so keeping the hangers-on on the floor away was key.

Teddy always played the maximum bet which for his machines was $8.80 per spin. He routinely dropped between $10,000.00 and $25,000.00 in an afternoon. He'd likely hit four or five jackpots in the $1,600.00 to $4,500.00 range. And he never tipped.

That was such an odd aspect of this guy. He obviously had tons of idle cash but was cheap when it came to the expected Vegas fee for service. It wasn't as if he was a lowball tipper -- he simply did not tip for any reason. He was our definition of a high roller yet behaved like the cat who'd come in looking for nothing but his $10.00 of free play and hopefully a comp drink.

"...eventually funds may not be available to meet the most basic needs of food, clothing, shelter, etc. In desperation the gambler may begin lying and/or stealing to cover up the problems, creating further stress for everyone around them." — from “When the Fun Stops” by The Nevada Council on Problem Gambling

When I first encountered TC and his mother I was hit by the sadness in their situation. He and I were roughly the same age but, as I've been told we are all four bad decisions from homeless, he made all four of them and I had a couple more to go.

Walking the perimeter of the casino, I see an ancient Honda Civic parked slightly off the lines. In the drivers seat is a tall, skinny man, slightly hunched over smoking a butt out the window. He looks sunbaked like people do in the desert, his skin taut and leathery. Next to him is an old woman. Old like those pictures you see from Appalachia in National Geographic. She has an oxygen tube in her nose and is simply staring out the cracked windshield off into a distance I cannot fathom.

"You doing OK out here?" I ask in that managerial tone.

"Yah. We're good. Just waiting until we can get a room."

"You wanna come inside? It's, like, 112 degrees out here and I imagine your friend..."

"My mother..."

"...your mother might feel better in the air conditioning."

"Sho..."

He had an odd linguistic affectation in his speech that made him sound a bit like a child, his mouth wrapping around vowels that rounded them out. He dropped his square, got out of the creaky car, and pulled out a wheelchair that would've been at home next to the dirty doll Charleston Heston found at the climax of The Planet of the Apes.

I put them in the Sportsbook, grabbed a couple of waters for them, and spent a few minutes sleuthing their story.

TC was well-known by some of the long-term staff. He used to be a player but hit hard times a few years back. No one knew what he had done for a living or how he was surviving but the profile was of someone now homeless, living in his car and occasionally a month-long stay at the hotel attached to our casino so his mother could sleep in a bed. He still was on the free play marketing list but rarely had the dollar to activate it.

"As they continue to gamble, they become more and more emotionally and mentally dependent on gambling, with less and less control. The long-term result is a steady deterioration of the mental and physical health of both the gambler and their family." — from “When the Fun Stops” by The Nevada Council on Problem Gambling

On some fundamental Irish level, I understand this compulsion. While never much into gambling my money as I've never been heavily motivated by its acquisition, my career since college has been a series of driving along the highway at night and wondering if I could survive the impulse of just letting the steering wheel go and closing my eyes.

In ‘89, I graduated and randomly chose Chicago as my new home without the safety net of knowing anyone in Chicago, having a job or prospects, or having ever been in the city. It was the move of a gambler throwing dice to see if the come-out was a natural and betting everything he had.

I lived in my car for four months as I explored this new city and looked for gainful employment, feeding myself and gassing up my home by playing trumpet on street corners downtown.

My chosen field was that of a music teacher and I did that in the public school system on the west side for a decade. Why quit teaching after ten years? Why not? I started a non-profit comedy theater that evolved into something weird but fun. Did that for fifteen years then quit to go work for NPR. A decade later, I decided to move to Las Vegas because isn't that what the hopelessly addicted to risk do?

Debra was distraught.

“Oh my gawd,” she moaned as she pumped another $20.00 in the video poker machine. “My sister’s birthday is Wednesday and I have to pick up her cake but I don’t have the $17.00 to pay for it!”

The odd disconnect between her dilemma and the twenty she just pushed into the bill validator was obvious to me but not at all to her.

“Debra. Why not cash out that machine and use that?” I said, smiling behind my mask.

“Huh? Ah, no, no, no. This money is for poker. I can’t use it for her cake. Maybe if I win some today...”

The next day I get a phone call. It’s Debra. Can I loan her $20.00 until Thursday? I can and I do. She sends me pictures of the party, socially distanced from her garage. Thursday she swings by and palms me the twenty like it’s a tip I’m not supposed to receive.

In the ongoing search for the true American experience, it seems obvious that it exists inside the off-strip casino. A room filled with shiny lights and electronic sounds populated with every stripe from every tribe: wealthy, impoverished, black, white, brown, make, female, non-binary, old, young, fat, thin, liberal, conservative, libertarian, beautiful, homely. All in the room for exactly the same reason: a short term investment in a possible future fueled by luck and circumstance.

Everyone who walks into the casino is prepared to gamble with the currency at hand. That currency cannot be defined simply by dollars available but the intertwined filthy lucre of personality, desire, and need with need being the characteristic with the most pungent strength.

Teddy wasn’t big on chit-chat. He came to plug in the dough and whack the spin buttons with a slap. Except with me. With me, for some unexplained reason, there was small talk.

“I love to travel, Don. Have you traveled?”

“I have. Used to play jazz trumpet for a living and went all over the globe with that.”

“Where’s your favorite place?”

“Edinburgh, Scotland. Took a theater company there for a month in ‘95 and fell in love with the place.”

“Oooooh! I’ve never been there! I have a lady friend I’d like to take someplace new. What else you got on Scotland?”

I went to my office, did some online searches, and put together a PDF of prices and places in Edinburgh. I dropped it off at his machine when he was cashing in a voucher.

His reaction was effusive.

“It’s people like you that make me come here, you know? The big properties are always offering me comp rooms and meals but they can’t give me the feeling of friendship that the people here do.”

Over the course of a few months, I gleaned that Teddy had lost his wife to cancer years before and that his children would have little to do with him. He often had “lady friends” but no one consistent and most were decades younger than he. Teddy was an almost desperately lonely man and felt less so in the casino where his propensity to be a high roller made him feel like he was important.

The 1995 trip to Scotland was another improbable gamble. The small nonprofit theater company I had founded was fraying at the edges. The ensemble needed a goal to achieve and I decided that taking a show to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe with seventeen actors who had no disposable incomes to speak of was just thee thing. I cashed in my pension from the days of teaching and managed a few sponsorships.

It was both financially devastating and artistically remarkable. In the parlance of the gambling addict, it was a win. I lost my ass and gained a cherished city.

TC checked he and his mother into a room one February night a month before the place was shut down by pandemic. During the graveyard shift, his mother was picked up by paramedics and transferred to a hospital. The next day, TC was outside in the courtyard weeping as if the world had ended.

She had been misdiagnosed, given the wrong medication, and had died during the early hours of the morning. TC was filled with sadness and guilt and a sense of impotent rage so like so many on the ass end of life.

He was without options. He was unemployed and unemployable. His one lifeline was his mother both in a financial way but also in that indelible manner that having a daily task, someone to care for, gives a person distraction from the crushing despair of living.

I brought him a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes and sat down with him for a moment during my shift.

“I don’t know.” he said unprompted after a few minutes of sitting together.

“What don’t you know?”

“I don’t know what to do. They killed my mother. They didn’t even care. When I came in to the hospital, they took me to her and she was just dead. The doctor didn’t even apologize. They wanted to know how I was going to pay for her disposal. That’s how they said it. Her disposal. I used to come here, you know? When I had money? I used to gamble and laugh. I haven’t laughed in years.”

“You did the best you could.”

“NO, I DIDN’T! I didn’t do the best I could. How do you live with yourself knowing you didn’t?”

“I don’t know.”

I think about when the fun stopped for him or if it was ever really fun at all. I wonder if those in my current position watched it happen as TC went from being someone in between Debra and Teddy and started that slide into who he was in front of me and what responsibly did they take as witness to the decline.

Does the bartender bear some accountability to the alcoholic? Does the pimp have some obligation for the john? The casino feeds off of the weaknesses of thousands who come in from out of town to throw away their disposable income on a Hennessy-soaked memory haze of unfettered vice but does it have some sort of moral obligation to the folks who live here and still cash in their downfall with such abandon?

Sometime during the re-opening of Vegas following the COVID shutdown I realized that the place was leaving a mark. Not so much a scar but a dark bruise. A wound underneath the skin and, since there was no one to hand me a pamphlet, I decided that the fun had, indeed, stopped for me.

When I announced to Debra that I was leaving the casino, that I had found work that paid more and was remote to boot, she was distraught.

“This place. We get diamonds and they leave as soon as we get used to them.”

“The West?”

“Vegas. It’s a hard place for good people to thrive. Don’t. Don’t say I’m a good person. I’m not. I try but I’m not. Vegas eats up people. It chews on their hopes and dreams and spits them back out. Oh, I’m so depressed right now.”

She pumped another twenty into the machine and continued to chase the four aces.

“Did you hate it here?”

“Vegas? No. I love it.”

“No. The West. Did you hate it here?”

“No. It’s dirty and seedy but there is a thing about places like this that resonate a tune so few can recall singing. You ever read Neil Gaiman’s ‘American Gods’? The old gods can only congregate in places of bizarre spiritual congruence like House on the Rock or Disneyland. The West is like one of those mythic, tacky places in which the old gods gather.”

“You’re so weird. This is not a spiritual place. It’s a casino.”

“One and the same, Debra.”

Teddy never went to Edinburgh as far as I know. When Vegas re-opened, he stopped coming in to play. That has been the way of things during pandemic. Those with options other than Vegas found different games of chance. I can think of a dozen regular big players whom I haven’t seen since things turned sour. Perhaps the place lost its luster when requiring masks on everyone was too much a reminder of the outside world.

A week or so before I turned in my name badge and Title 31 credentials, TC came in. I hadn’t seen him since that day in the courtyard. He was wearing new clothes. His face was fuller as if he’d somehow become hydrated and healthier. He was obviously clean and his hair had grown out and been cut.

He pulled down his mask. “Look! They’re implants!” he crowed as his brand new choppers shone in the light. “This is my wife!” and he motioned to a matronly Latina woman who seemed thrilled to meet me.

TC had sued the hospital. Vegas has a billboard for every fifty feet of highway announcing a lawyer waiting to help you cash in on tragedy and it is fitting that TC took advantage of one of them and made bank.

Like the rest of us he was simply gambling with the cards he was dealt, with the currency available to him. Will he squander it, buying pieces of hope, looking for another jackpot? Probably but that’s Vegas. That’s America, isn’t it?

The America Dream we were promised is just another handpay pot of gold to be gambled away on the promise of the next dream, so why not? How can the fun stop if it was never really fun in the first place?

#casino life

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poipoi1912 · 7 years

Text

Carisi-centric thoughts on Ep 19x06

I’m here! So sorry for posting this late, this week got away from me!

(also, I’ve spent quite a bit of time writing my 19x06 episode tag, because I gotta strike while the iron’s hot! :D)

(also also, I’ll reply to your comments and asks tomorrow because I’m wiped out and I need to sleep! I’m so so sorry, I remain the worst when it comes to time management)

Overall Thoughts

This episode was very promising, with a relatively fresh case, but the execution was somewhat choppy. It started off well, with that tour of the rehab facility that was clearly too good to be true, but in a wonderfully unsettling way, as opposed to an obvious SVU way (if that makes sense), and all the solid guest stars really gave life to the stilted lines.

I was also very pleasantly surprised by the insurance angle, because it was an interesting twist on the usual motive. Instead of a perverted sicko who exploits young girls, we had a money-hungry monster who both exploited young girls and knew how to game the system. Plus, we also got a different kind of abuse of special victims which wasn’t exclusively physical/sexual.

But then the case was resolved via murder. Poetic justice, one might say, but I would call it “a cop-out, the one time Barba would have something fun to do in court”. Mentioning the RICO charges and the Romeo & Juliet laws vis-à-vis coersion was almost annoying. Why bring up multiple interesting legal topics and then do nothing with any of them?

That said, I liked the episode overall. I wish the case had been better explored, and it did get a little too convoluted by the end, but it was different enough that it kept my interest.

The Rolivia Corner

I love their new dynamic. I don’t love how Amanda’s new job is to constantly trail after Liv and ask “are you okay?” (at least not without Liv reciprocating, once in a while), but I love this new trust between them. In the previous seasons, if Amanda pulled a stunt like this, Liv would be like “next time I’ll have your badge”. This time, Liv was more appropriately mad as a superior, but she didn’t hold it against Amanda. But I did laugh when they made it seem like Liv just invented the concept of “inevitable discovery” to legitimize evidence which was illegally gathered. Like we haven’t seen this on every other procedural ever (including SVU itself).

But seriously, I do love seeing Liv confiding in a friend. That said, “addicted pregnant woman” is a subject which could have also resonated with Amanda. She was a gambling addict and she got pregnant and she turned her life around. Is Amanda even still a mother? I mean, as Liv and Amanda bond, maybe they could also talk about Jesse (or Queen Kim!), not just Noah and Liv’s issues with the new grandmother.

Sonny and Continuity

Sonny’s still Catholic! Jesus yay! And he still looks amazing in blue!

The Barisi Corner

I will never not love watching Barba tease Sonny. There’s a hilarious resignation there, almost like Barba feels compelled to do it, because it's their thing. And we also got Classic Carisi, looking up to Barba and idolizing him and thinking Barba can pull a rabbit out of his hat.

That said, and as funny as “what are you, a bat?” was (AN INSTANT CLASSIC, AND A WORTHY ADDITION TO THE BARISI HALL OF FAME, RIGHT NEXT TO ‘BOOYAH, FORDHAM LAW’ AND OMG I LOVe them ok I’ll stop), I don’t know if that moment was a nod to continuity, or if it was just the writers not knowing how to advance the Barisi relationship and going back to the basics.

Then again, the basics are pretty fun :D

Either way, I'm glad were getting the classic "Barba and Carisi have a special relationship" dynamic again. Barba doesn't tease anybody else, and Sonny doesn't kiss anybody else's ass. That’s something they share, something that’s unique to their relationship. Barba has moved on from being the snarky sidekick, maturing to a more mellow individual, except when it comes to teasing Sonny like he’s doing a standup routine, looking for the next joke. And Sonny has moved on from being the green rookie, maturing to a more confident individual, except when it comes to kissing Barba’s ass like he’s still an eager law student, bringing his professor an apple. That’s the one thing that hasn’t changed about them, even as everything else has.

Also, on a meta level, I always felt the Barba/Carisi (platonic) interactions have significantly stood out from all the other dynamics on SVU, just because of the broader humor and their natural rapport. Sonny is more developed, so he has relatively well-drawn individual relationships with pretty much all the other characters, but Barba doesn’t have that with any other character except Liv. The Barba/Carisi dynamic allows us to see a different side to Barba, and Sonny specifically is the reason. That's the only time Barba is allowed to be fun, when he's with Sonny or talking about Sonny. I think we need to see that, as viewers, as opposed to just watching a sweet, sad, supportive Barba in BFF mode, weeping as Liv talks about her problems.

Sonny is the only character who brings out Barba’s sass well-naturedly (well he and Rita who’s Rita?). Usually Barba directs his sass at the perps or the defense attorneys, and there’s a bite there. But when Barba teases Sonny, there’s a fondness there, and that’s sweet to watch.

Also, as always, Peter and Raul are hilarious, individually and together, and every single of their interactions is gold. Sonny’s “what?” face was the highlight of the entire episode.*

Also I’m sorRY BUT BARBA CRACKING HIMSELF UP? WHEN JOKING ABOUT SONNY? ALL “GIVE CARISI SOME TIME OFF TO WRITE AN ARTICLE! AHAHAHA”? LIKE, IT WASN’T THAT FUNNY, SIS! No but that chuckle ended me. When is the last time we heard Barba laugh? NEVER, THAT’S WHEN.

Stray Thoughts

Lux? Are the SVU writers watching Lucifer, like I am? Can they look for some pointers on how to write a good show? :D

Must Liv be physically present at every crime scene? Even when it’s not even the primary crime scene, and it’s just a dead body somebody ditched randomly? Why use that contrivance to have her leave Noah in the middle of the night? Liv, girl, you’re a Lieutenant! That’s exactly the sort of stuff you’re supposed to leave behind when you get promoted!

I liked the Narcotics guy. He had flair. And I also liked his rapport with Fin. I kinda wished we were watching that show. Fin working Narcotics with this dude who had an actual personality, busting perps on the street. That scene, and the scene where they caught the first dealer, they sparked (because of Fin). The rest… not so much.

Brooke Shields and Mariska Hargitay are both so gorgeous and compelling. I wish their scenes were less tedious, because they’re actually doing some nice acting.

Sonny’s face after Liv’s “I’m the bitch” speech? Same.

I was that girl asking Sonny “where do you live, in a hole?” Like, for all we know, that’s exactly where Sonny lives.

Did that social worker say “the software’s a little glitchy” and then go on to smack the mouse against the desk? I love SVU.

Liv: “Was someone else raped?

Amanda: “Do the insurance companies count?”

me: fuck no

*wait I lied. Best part of the entire episode was Ice-T hearing the rehab guy’s bullshit and saying “That’s beautiful!”

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buttdawg · 4 years

Video

youtube

FTR vs. The Initiative (Brandon Cutler & Peter Avalon)

Pineapple Pete & Michael Nakazawa vs. Joey Janela & Sonny Kiss

Abadon vs. Skyler Moore

Will Hobbs & Shawn Dean vs. Dark Order (Stu Grayson & Evil Uno)

Corey Hollis vs. Scorpio Sky

Kenzie Paige vs. Penelope Ford

Aaron Solow vs. Wardlow

Best Friends vs. Dark Order (Alex Reynolds & John Silver)

Lance Archer vs. Frankie Thomas

Orange Cassidy vs. Serpentico

Fuego Del Sol vs. Sammy Guevara

SCU vs. Private Party vs. Santana & Ortiz

I’m watching this one right now, so I might as well throw in some liveblog commentary.

--This episode marks the beginning of the Cutler/Avalon team using the name “The Initiative”. The implication is that they’re finally getting comfortable working as a unit.

I don’t really get FTR’s “Follow The Rules” gimmick. This match is a good example, because they nag Aubrey Edwards about enforcing proper tag rules, but then they tried to do a hand-to-boot tag themselves during their match on this show. And then they win using a spiked piledriver, which used to be illegal in 1989, so it seems weird that these “Old School” traditionalists would adopt it as a finisher. Or maybe it’s supposed to be ironic, I don’t know. They’re a great team, I’ve always thought so, but I keep losing the plot with them.

--Sonny and Joey have a new remix entrance theme. Not sure how I feel about the music, but I like it when teams enter together.

I guess Pineapple Pete is into baby oil like Nakazawa now? This match sees Pete oil up Naka’s back and then slide across him to spear Sonny in the corner, using Naka’s back like a homoerotic slip’n’slide.

Pete just tagged Joey even though they’re on opposite teams? Was Pete mocking them, or did Joey think that was Sonny’s arm because they were all locked up in a hold? Or did Pete think he was in his own corner? So many questions.

Joey and Pete sell Naka’s thong claw like a champ. I feel kind of bad for Sonny having to deal with all these goofballs, but he looked good out here.

--They talk a lot about how green the AEW Women’s roster is, and I’m not disputing that, though I can’t tell which women are experienced and which ones aren’t. Nevertheless, they’ve got a lot of strong characters in this division, and I think that’s something women’s wrestling usually lacks. Abadon is a prime example. Maybe she’s a total rookie, but she looks so horriffic that it doesn’t matter. She’s like Bray Wyatt but actually scary.

And then you’ve got Britt Baker’s dentist/role model thing, Kris Statlander’s alien gimmick, Rayche Chanel’s “what have I stumbled into?” character, Leva Bates, and so on. That’s the cure for a roster with limited experience. They need to repackage Skyler Moore as some sort of truck driver or a witch or something.

--Promo package for Shawn Spears here. I saw this on Twitter, and it made no sense to me, because he didn’t explain what the glove does. Basically, Shawn lost on PPV to Dustin Rhodes, and Tully Blanchard chewed him out on Dynamite, and then he gave him a black glove like it was the key to furthering his career.

Now that I’ve watched all these Dark episodes, I finally see what’s going on here. The glove isn’t loaded. There’s nothing special about it, and they even have the refs make a big deal out of checking it before the bell. But then Tully will pass a metal slug to Shawn during the match, and then he’ll load the glove.

And this is great, because it justifies Tully’s presence (the glove only works as a cheat if Shawn has someone to smuggle the slug to him.), and it gives Shawn a winning record. My beef with the “Search for Spears” angle was that Tully kept putting him in tag matches to audition potential partners, and they never won. The implication was that Shawn Spears sucks and the only possible way to fix him is to pair him up with a better performer who can carry him through a tag match, except there isn’t one.

But the glove works, because it really is a coaching tool. Sometimes, Tully doesn’t even give Shawn the slug until after the match is over, because Shawn doesn’t always need it. So it’s not just a cheat. It’s a secret weapon if Shawn needs it, but it’s also a confidence builder. As long as Shawn is wearing the glove, he knows he can use the slug if things go poorly, but he also feels motivated to do his best without the slug.

My only complaint is that they introduced the glove on Dynamite, but only explained how it works on Dark. But now that I’m caught up, it doesn’t bother me as much.

--Not much to say about these Dark Order matches. I looked them up the other day because I wanted to make sense of their numbering system, but as far as I can tell they never used 6 or 7, and you never see 8 or 9 anymore. Maybe the unnnamed “spokesman” guy is 6 and Brodie Lee is 7? I thought the whole point of Brodie Lee was that he was the Exalted One, but they have Evil Uno, so that’s shot to hell. Is Brodie #0? Is he unnumbered because he’s in charge? Does Anna Jay get a number? Does Colt?

--It’s weird to watch Scorpio Sky’s winning streak on Dark, because I watched his TNT title match with Cody first, and I think that was supposed to be the payoff of this story. But I sort of hope this keeps going. Sky might as well keep doing singles matches, keep racking up wins, and take another crack at the AEW World title. While he was fighting Cody, the announce team talked about him becoming the first Black AEW World Champion someday, and it got me thinking about how he could very easily become TNT Champ someday, and I think the World title’s only a few years away at most. Really, the conversation should be about Scorp becoming the first AEW Triple Crown winner.

In terms of Black firsts, would he be the first African American Triple Crown winner? Nah, Booker T pulled that off in WCW, right? I’m not even sure he was the first to do that, but I’d have to look it up. Anyway, Sky looks like a guy who could win all the singles belts, and he’s already done the tag title, so he’s got a leg up over just about everybody.

-Dig the psychology of Penelope Ford locking in a camel clutch and (illegally) hooking her fingers into Kenzie Page’s face, then turning Kenzie’s face from side to side to hide her fingers from the referee. Nice stuff.

-Aaron Solow kind of looks like Kirk Hammet from Metallica. Wardlow wins by KO, then keeps attacking Solow after the bell, and I feel like they really need to bring back the thing where the ref will reverse the decision to punish the heel for excessive brutality. It didn’t get a lot of use in early 90′s WWF, but it was pretty cool when it happened.

-I really want to see Lance Archer mow down a whole squad of Dark Order guys. That’d be pretty sweet.

Holy shit they didn’t cut off Lance’s theme song during his entrance! First time for everything.

Taz asks on commentary how Jake can control Lance Archer, because he thinks he needs pointers on how to control Brian Cage. Taz, Jake’s just some guy Lance Archer lets follow him around. He’s gonna beat the shit out of Jake too; he’s just saving Jake for later.

-A lot has been made on Dark about Serpentico’s streamers. I dig them, but I don’t know what more there is to be said. I’m more interested in the weird protrusion from his luchadore mask.

-I dig the laid back commentary from Excalibur and Taz, including where they try to figure out what to call Penelope Ford’s leather garter (thighlet?) and whether or not “smooth as ice” would be a good figure of speech.

-I’ve seen Sammy Guevara’s GTH a few times, and I can’t really tell if it’s anything other than a GTS. Well, he carries the guy face-up on his shoulders, and I think the GTS starts out with the guy lying face-down on the shoulders, so maybe that’s the difference?

-Private Party and Matt Hardy do a promo before their match. The problem I’ve got with Matt is that he announced that he was dropping all of his characters, but I can’t tell the fucking difference. I think he was doing a bit as “Big Money Matt”, which I vaguely remember from a run he had in ROH? I never saw it, though. But it doesn’t sound that much different from all the other Matts, including default Matt. Also, he went nuts on the last episode of Dynamite, attacking a guy he thought was Sammy Guevara when he actually wasn’t. So is that him going nuts and descending back into his Broken gimmick, or is Normal Matt just going normal nuts? I sort of don’t care enough, is the problem.

-I like this triple-threat tag match, as it features the three teams that sort of got overlooked in this whole Young Bucks/FTR/OmegaPage thing. Those three teams have been circling around this “who’s the best?” business, but I think Private Party, SCU, and Santana/Ortiz have plenty of business in that conversation. Oh, and the Lucha Brothers, but yeah, there’s an embarassment of riches in this tag division.

-And of course PNP wins, because they’re THE BEST THE BEST THE BEST THE--!

#aew #aew dark #aew dark playlist

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insane-control-room · 7 years

Text

Careless Speech #2

Chapter Two: Blurted Statements Word count: 1500 A/n: for @miilkydayz and @lunarmuseserenity777 hope you enjoy! »»»»»»»»»»»»» The rain tapped softly and rapt on, even on the next day as well, but in all due and respectful honesty, ‘twas a soothing and comforting noise, there in the most benevolent way, as though it sensed their internal struggle. It was a ridiculous idea, but one that could put a jaded smile on Scrooge’s melancholic and fatigued face. Recently everything surrounding his relationship with his nephew was so rickety and stained, overall such a bitter situation. Scrooge looked around the living room, dimly lit by the candles and fireplace. No one was really doing anything. At all. It was a little odd to see a normally lively, bouncy, and energetic family so unusually sedated, forlorn, and lethargic. Even Dewey was relatively still, simply twisting around the little softly pastel colored squares of the Rubik’s Cube that Donald had bought for him shortly after he had been diagnosed with ADD. It was such a simple and small gesture, it was easily overlooked at the time, but now that the blue two shirt wearing duckling realized the extraordinary amount of thought and effort his uncle had put into it. He tried his best to find exactly what would fit Dewey - a puzzle challenge with edges and facets to run his fingers over, soft, gentle pastel colors, calming him and making enjoy playing more. He spent time picking out this specific stimulus, it made Dewey smile a little wider when he clicked in another full side. Donald may be brash, but he really, genuinely, absolutely cared about his family. Even Scrooge. In fact, the longer Scrooge thought about it, Donald could act like a jerk, a heck of a lot of the time, too, but he really cared about others. That may have been part of his motivation to join the naval forces. When they, they meaning Scrooge and Della, asked him why he was joining the army, he merely shrugged and let out a laugh, saying he just felt like it, that he wanted to go out to sea for a bit of work, just because, no, not because he wanted to help people, that’d be ridiculous! Yeah, right. He definitely joined the navy to help people. He was an overall softies, but his it behind a stony, rough, and tempered facade. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen as weak? It’s a possibly plausible explanation to many of Donald’s intriguing and odd personality tics.

“Uh… are you alright Mr. McDuck?” Launchpad questioned, benign and blunt at the same time. “You’ve been staring at Dew-man’s puzzle box for about… sixteen minutes? Yeah… around that amount of time.”

“Oh, I’m sure everything will be fine in the end, my boy,” Scrooge tiredly chuckled with a soft smile. Them he cleared his throat to get all the ducks attention, easily gained. “But in all honestly, what are we sitting around here for? Let’s git a game going, ar something teh clear away this pressuring quietness!”

Don’t be so hard on them for wanting to play a game. It’s always hard to get your mind off of things, especially in the quiet and the dark, for thoughts swirl in the minds of those who wish thought gone {BEGONE, THOUGHT! [I apologize sincerely]}. And in the dark, those thoughts become dark themselves, and twisted. Pain makes you do many things you didn’t know you could do, and painful thoughts tear from the inside, and makes you emotionless to the pain from the outside, numb and cold. So play a game, and know you did nothing wrong, even as your stomach churns and dark thoughts swirl in your mind, and your hopes may be rejuvenated.

After some time of debate on which board game they should play, Monopoly was selected. And as luck would have it, even with everyone joining forces and resources against Scrooge, he still managed to be winning, and by a long shot as well, around a thousand in front of Huey, the runner up.

“Like I said to Dewey in Atlantis,” he grinned over his cash in his hand. “Ye got tea work smarta, lads, not harda. Then ye pull ahead of the lot, easily. And swiftly, too.”

He rolled, getting a double and landing his top hat piece on Go, collecting his $200 and proceeding to purchase hotels on Boardwalk, rolling again to land on chance, earning one fifty. Louie nervously glanced at his piece, the boot, and it’s precarious position dangerously near the now two thousand dollar spot. He gulped as Scrooge passed him the dice with a grin. He concentrated. The “evil” twin frantically searched through his memory for any advice to avoid the roll. What did Donald always say about luck? Oh, right, ‘luck is something that some people have, but some people don’t, but remember, even if luck doesn’t help, it’ll be good in the end.’ With a sigh, Louie let the dice roll from his hand. A collective gasp and a huff of a laugh from Scrooge told him he had landed on the dreaded Boardwalk. Grumbling, moving his pawn to the designated spot, and reaching into his pocket, he handed Scrooge the two thousand. His property on Illinois Avenue caught his eye. There were four houses… rolling his eyes, he bought the final hotel for $150. He probably wasn’t going to get any revenue from it, but it was worth a shot. He handed the dice to Launchpad, who currently was on free parking as a thimble. He stuck his tongue between his teeth as he shook the dice and rolled. Louie had to do a double take at the dice. Three. Launchpad paled, and counted out the money he had. He was six hundred short, having spent all of his other money on properties. Next Webby fell victim, two spaces behind the pilot. She too was broke. Huey managed to escape with some money, and quickly sold his properties to Louie. Dewey also landed on it, but he had only five dollars. It was pretty funny, actually. Next, Scrooge landed on community chest, and had to pay everyone (who was still in) $50. Louie landed in jail. Huey landed on on one of Louie’s places, and lost all his money. Soon, it was just Louie and Scrooge, the two money grubbers. A crack of lightning suddenly illuminated the room, shaking the core of the house. A door slammed, followed by a familiar, speech impedimented voice complaining about being wet rang through the hall. Donald, in all his sopping wet and sour tempered glory, strode into the living room wringing out his cap. He shook off the water droplets on his feathers, the remainder glistening like pearls and diamonds.

“Donald!” Scrooge exclaimed with happiness, jumping out of his chair and running over to his nephew, wrapping his arms around his middle, ignoring the growing wetness on his shirt. But he quickly let go, placing his hands on Donald’s arms, looking at him with a sternly parental gaze. “Where have ye been? The whole lot of us have been worried sick, ye can’t just vanish for a day and a half. You have teh… oh, who am I kidding?” he paused and swallowed, then hugged him tightly again. “I’m so sorry lad, that I said that. I had no right teh, I just wasn’t thinking, and - wait, is that your passport? You’re not leaving, are yeh?”

In fact, Scrooge was right about the passport, just barely sticking out of Donald’s pocket. The triplets and Webby {I may start calling them the quadruplets, this is getting ridiculous} ran over to Donald, gripping his arms with the iron power of FAMILY! And muscle. That too.

“You can’t leave!” Huey cried to him, tugging his sleeve. “Who’d help me with my junior duck scouting and be by my pin ceremonies?”

“And who’s gonna teach me to get out of trouble?” Dewey questioned.

“Who’d show me how to use all the boat equipment?” Louie asked.

“Who’d give me the first hand knowledge of all your adventures?” Webby inquired.

“Wha’?” Donald seemed confused, but realized his passport was poking out of his pocket. He began laughing. “Oh, that! Don’t worry, I already went somewhere, I’m back now. I should probably put this away.”

He had another laugh, and walked into the hallway to his room… boat house thing. They glanced at each other, bewildered as to how this happened. A crash from behind them attracted all five of the duck’s attentions. They all turned to see Launchpad trying to leave stealthily, but failing miserably by knocking over an entire suit of armor.

“Uh, what are you looking at me like that for?” he asked nervously, a blush spreading on his cheeks. “I definitely didn’t fly Donald to Mexico in one of Mr. McDuck’s high tech experimental supersonic speed jets in ten minutes and come back after promising not to tell anyone that I flew Donald to Mexico in one of Mr. McDuck’s high tech experimental supersonic speed jets in ten minutes!”

#careless speech #ducktales #donald duck #scrooge mcduck #huey dewey and louie #ducktales2017 #launchpad mcquack #webby vanderquack #angst #hurt/comfort #family #control writes #duckfeels

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pinkipie100 · 6 years

Text

Lance and the 25 Days Chapter VIII: Request

WELL, WELL, WELL! LOOK WHO DECIDED TO COME CRAWLING BACK!

Ah, yes, Evil Voice In My Head. It is I, Pinki, author of Lance and the 25 Days and founder of Ficcember! Now, shut up. To you however, dear reader, I apologize immensely, a thousand times for my absence! Unfortunately, I worked the rest of the weekend after Friday as well, and when I got home, I was just so exhausted that I fell right asleep and had no motivation to write. It’s my fault entirely, and I should have been more committed. That aside! This chapter is short as well, unfortunately, but I always meant it to be. Sorry if you’re disappointed, but do enjoy it while you can, as we probably won’t see Keith again for a while. Sorry. Hopefully I can post another chapter later tonight if I finish it. Thank you for keeping an eye out for updates on my late behind! Enjoy!

When Keith answers Lance’s call, the two have a less-than-amicable exchange.

Words: 758

Category: Gen

Contains: bickering, Kolivan witnessing a domestic, and being confused by it, Scrooge!Keith, atheist Keith, Christian Lance, brOTP Laith/Klance

Takes place immediately following Keith picking up Lance’s call from Chapter VII.

“Lance, what do you want?” Keith answered the transmission shortly.

“Keith! I’ve been trying to call you all morning!” Lance yelled into the screen. Keith dryly remarked that he’d noticed, and the red paladin continued, “Hey, so listen, I need you to come over.”

Keith scoffed. “What do you mean, ‘come over’? For what, a playdate?”

Lance was half concentrating on the conversation, half focusing on sewing something, apparently. Slight bags appeared to be forming under his eyes. Though this worried Keith, he trusted Lance was just training a bit more. The Cuban boy continued, “What? No! For Christmas!” When Keith gave Lance a dismissive look, the latter explained, “Look, long story short, I can sense when December comes because I wake up one midnight hits on December first. The point is, we’re getting ready for the holidays! Hanukkah for Pidge, Christmas for the rest of us! Shiro wanted you to join us, and I promised him you would. And Keith, when I make a Christmas promise, I am ready to spill blood for that promise.”

Keith shook his head first at Lance, then at the thought of Shiro’s request. “Of course Shiro asked you to do that…” he bemoaned. When Lance expressed confusion, the Blade reiterated, “Shiro’s always trying to do that. Get me excited about holidays. It’s so stupid, I don’t even celebrate Christmas…” Lance, surprised, inquired whether Keith was Jewish as well, which the other boy shot down, and when Lance then hesitantly wondered if Keith celebrated Kwanzaa for some reason, Keith strongly rejected that, as well. Finally, Keith delineated, “Lance, I don’t celebrate any holidays in December. I’m an atheist.”

Lance sat for moment, evidently flabbergasted on the screen, his face some subtle form of horrified. Keith rolled his eyes while he prompted Lance for a response, but his friend had nothing.

Lance wasn’t so much horrified at the fact that his friend wasn’t Christian, considering Shiro and Pidge weren’t either, nor were the Alteans, obviously. He was just shocked that Keith didn’t celebrate Christmas. Shiro did, despite his own agnostic standing, if only for festivities’ sake. It just seemed so central to the culture that all of the humans had grown up in; Lance couldn’t comprehend what Keith ever had to look forward to at the end of the year when he didn’t have any December holidays to get excited about. Lance hoped he at least did something special for New Year’s, but knowing him, the red paladin figured that Keith probably didn’t even keep track of when the new year arrived.

“Lance, say something,” Keith firmly urged, countenance bored.

Lance shook his head, jaw still to the floor while he cracked out, “WHY?!” Keith only sighed and whined that he didn’t see the point in celebrating the made-up birthday of an embellished fairy-tale. “Keith! You shouldn’t say that! Jesus was a real person, and he was born, so you can’t say he’s made up!” Keith reiterated that the twenty-fifth of December was simply an arbitrary guess at what day Jesus could have been born, and that the real Jesus didn’t even look like what Christians depicted him like. Lance huffed, now very angry at Keith’s Scroogelike attitude. “Well, Keith, that’s insensitive, even for you. You know, it’s one thing to bail on your best friend, but to insult an entire religion like that is just being a jerk. Think before you speak, especially during this time of year. Santa’s watching,” Lance hissed.

Keith, once more, rolled his eyes, explaining that he did not see why he should waste time and money on some stupid Christian holiday that was just manufactured by American society to boost its economy at the end of each year to look better on the world economic rankings charts. Lance shook his head at the notion, vehemently protesting every last bit of Keith’s incorrect logic. Keith just flippantly put up his hand to halt Lance’s speech. “Was this the only reason you were calling?” With a furious expression and a pouty lip, Lance nodded once. Keith sighed through his nose and finished, “Goodbye, Lance.”

“Keith, you better request time off or whatever, if not for Shiro’s sake, then Pidge’s, she wants to play dreidel with all of us-” Lance was cut off when Keith ended the transmission. Keith looked to the ground, trying to rationalize that his guilt was unwarranted. There was a bigger mission at hand- They didn’t have time for frivolous festivities! He looked up to Kolivan for affirmation.

The stoic Galra just voiced, “What’s a holiday?”

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side-angel · 7 years

Text

Simon x Reader #19

Warnings: crowd setting

Word Count: 2.7k

Requested: yus (kind of) and then I added onto the idea

Note: so sorry it’s so late after the match, but i didn’t really come up with the idea until 3 days ago -- so enjoy the longer length instead ~K

[ masterlist ]

—————————————————

You were pacing around the hotel room, where you had spent the night. You were just waiting for someone to come knock on your door and let you know it was time to surprise your longtime boyfriend. Telling him that you couldn’t make it to the match this year because of exams, in reality, you had been working on surprising him with the help of the rest of the Sidemen. You hadn’t seen him in person for a couple months now, with your last weeks of school being busy and his schedule being as hectic as ever with the oncoming match.

Several knocks came onto your door, breaking you away from your train of thought. You swung the door open to see Josh and Tobi, who both pulled you into a bear hug. You laughed at their excitement, but nonetheless happily returned their hugs. You had known them since you were a little girl and they took the place of your older brothers, with you actually being an only child.

“Alright, being able to breathe would be nice you guys,” you laughed.

“Well it’s your fault that you haven’t come to London in such a long time,” Tobi said.

“Hmmmm I wonder why, definitely not because I’m finishing up university or anything,” you sarcastically replied.

“Yeah yeah whatever you say, education isn’t that important,” Josh dismisses.

“Says the only two Sidemen that have degrees,” you laughed.

“Hush little one..”

“Do you think he knows?” you asked, pulling at the bottom of your shirt nervously.

“Not a chance, he was much more upset than he played it off to you,” Josh shook his head.

“I was this close,” you said holding up two fingers, “to telling him about it truthfully.”

“Are you ready for this?” Tobi asked you as you pulled your luggage with you and out the door.

“A little nervous, but I’m very excited to see him.”

You headed down to the restaurant portion of the hotel where the majority of the guys were still chilling and eating before everyone got to the match. You held a finger to your lips, signaling to everyone that could see you to keep quiet about you being there. Silently and cautiously, you could see Vik pull out his camera, to vlog, as you stopped pulling your suitcase and came right behind Simon.

Debating on your head what to do, you quickly chose to wrap your arms around him. Simon was very confused, but when he turned around and recognized it was you, a smile immediately spread onto his face.

“What are you doing here?!” wrapping his arms around you into a tight hug.

“I may or may not have lied just a bit when I said I had exams to go to. It was Josh’s idea, don’t blame me!”

“I hate you, but I love you too,” he laughed.

“Are you coming to the match?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course, I’m going,” you told.

As everyone else came up to greet you with smiles, Simon stayed by you before eventually excusing the two of you to go up to his room.

“Come on then,” Simon told you as he grabbed your suitcase and pulled it to the elevator.

As the two of you got to the room you’d be sharing, Simon quickly dropped your bag next to the bed and pulled you into a long kiss.

Briefly pulling away you asked, “what was that for?”

“Well I couldn’t do that in front of everyone else could I? And besides, I missed you.”

A smile stretched across your face as you sat next to him.

“You know I like this a lot more than I thought I was going to,” you told Simon as you ran your fingers through his newly silver dyed hair.

“Yeah?”

“It’s kinda hot if you ask me.”

“I’ll take that,” he smirked.

“Come on, you definitely have to go onto your coach right now.”

“Wait,” he said pulling you back, “kinda nervous ya know.”

“Why? You’re gonna be amazing don’t worry.”

“But what if I’m not? There’s a lot of people with a lot of expectations.”

“One you’re not gonna let anyone down, two you’ll be great not everyone can be amazing every day, and last at least I’ll still love you,” you laughed.

“Woooooowwww how inspiring,” Simon said smiling.

“It got you to smile didn’t it?”

“Alright let’s go. You’ll be in the friends and family coach, but I’ll see you after?”

“You got it, Captain,” you teased.

As Simon loaded onto the coach with the rest of the players, you behind Jesse and Will, who immediately recognized you and welcomed you with a hug. You were chatting the entire time that you rode to the stadium and were all smiles as people recognized you and waved hello. You chatted around with the rest of the “family and friends” as you all eagerly waited for the match to start.

By halftime, you knew that Simon was not happy with his performance. Maybe it was because you've been with him for so long and know how he thinks, or maybe it's the fact that he let P Money come on for him before the half even finished, but you just knew he was upset. As much as you wanted to give him a hug and a somewhat motivational speech, you knew he needed to get his head in the game with the team. Oh, but how you regretted it by the time the match was drawing to a close. Nothing was finishing off for Simon, and even the crowd knew with the clear frustration on his face that matched with the rest of the team. Things were getting rough on the field when even Tobi was getting heated.

You really should have known better, with the warning signs of the streaker that came onto the field. Yet by the time the whistle blew, you found yourself stuck on the stairs returning to your seat after a bathroom break. It was a push first, as people rushed their way down to the pitch for the invasion. You were being pushed around before you got shoved, causing you to fall to the ground. You curled in a ball trying to protect your body as all around you, and even on top of you, people stampeded down.

You hadn't realized how much pain you were actually in until a pair of hand grabbed you up and you recognized the person as Nick, Simon’s brother. There was yelling all around you and you could make out multiple people trying to get security and medical to help you.

“Let me walk,” said your hoarse whisper to the medical people that were about to put you on the stretcher.

“I don't think that's a good idea ma’am,” one of the people said.

“You couldn't get here quick enough but I know that I can at least walk to wherever you're planning to take me,” you snapped, already fed up with their performance during the match.

With an arm slung around one of the medical staff, you hobbled your way to a quiet room as quickly as possible. As you began to be poked and prodded, you saw a security guard rush off back to the pitch.

“I'm sorry what?!” Tobi yelled at the security guard who was telling him how you had gotten injured during the pitch invasion.

“When it all began, the people behind her climbed over her, but we've now got the situation under control,” he said with a lack of any sympathy.

“How is that even possible, she was sitting in VIP?!”

“From what we can tell she wasn’t sitting down when it all began, and she just got caught in the mix.”

“Well is she okay?!”

“We're having medical look at her now.”

“I have to tell Josh and Simon.”

“That won't be necessary,” the guard said attempting to calm Tobi down.

“Won’t be necessary?! You just basically told me my little sister just got trampled and stepped on, but you don't want me to tell anyone?! Seriously?!” Tobi angrily told the guard.

Tobi scoffed and turned on his heels to find Josh and Simon amongst the mass of people that had gathered on the pitch. Luckily for him, the two were together trying to make their way back to the tunnel and changing rooms.

“It’s Y/N,” Tobi rushed out as he ushered the three of them off the grounds.

“What?”

“She got hurt, from what the guy said she got injured when the invasion kicked off.”

With that, all three were rushing to make sure you were okay, yelling and practically shoving anyone that was in their way.

You looked up as the door opened and when you saw three very worried men looking back at you, you cursed. “Shit, why did you have to tell them?” You asked no one in particular.

“What the fuck happened?” Simon asked, clearly upset.

“I'm fine. Don't worry!” You tried to convince, but as one person put pressure on your abdomen, you couldn't help but wince at the pain that followed suit.

“Fine my ass,” Simon retorted.

“How is she actually?” Josh asked one of the medical staff.

“Surprisingly okay for the most part. She's definitively cracked at least two ribs and has a sprained ankle with bruising throughout, but no head trauma or other severe injuries,” the lady that was wrapping your ankle replied, “just some rest for the ribs, ice if it gets too bad with some paracetamol, and lay off of the ankle. We're going to get you some crutches and use those for at least two weeks. I'm going to also recommend that you go to the hospital in 2 days at the latest for an x-ray on the ankle and ribs.”

“See? I'm just fine,” you smiled at the guys.

There was almost an audible sigh of relief from each of the guys and they surrounded you as soon as the medics had left.

“I'm gonna kill whoever did this to you,” Simon finally spoke as Josh and Tobi just looked at your injuries.

“We all know you're not going to. I'm sure they didn't mean it, besides they're your fans,” You tried to reason.

As you moved to stood, suddenly three sets of hands were at your side trying to assist you in any way.

“Stop it!” You said shooing away the hands. “I'm fine. I can handle myself, I promise.”

“And yet you got trampled on,” Josh said.

“Sorry not all of us can be tall like you,” you retorted as all four headed towards the changing room.

“You're coming in with us love, you're not leaving my sight,” Simon said as he entered the changing room and peeked his head back out when “the coast was clear”.

You blushed as the guys all turned to you when the heard the sounds of crutches approaching in the room. The atmosphere was a little tense, undoubtedly because of their loss, but you were nonetheless bombarded with questions as to how you had gotten hurt. Sitting down on the bench, as Simon changed from his sweaty shirt, you answered everyone. By the time it was time to go, everyone was more livid with the fact that you had gotten hurt than the match results.

“Are you alright?” Caspar asked as you passed him on the bus, finding a seat for you and Simon.

“Yeah, I'll be okay don't worry,” you smiled.

Staying quiet for the ride back to the hotel Simon laid onto your shoulder after you convinced him you were perfectly comfortable, as his fingers tangled with yours, fiddling away.

“You okay?” You asked him, obviously talking about the match.

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?”

“We've established I'm fine, but what about you? It was a hard match and I could tell you were annoyed with yourself.”

“It's alright, charity after all,” he reminded.

“But I know that's not going to stop you from beating yourself up over nothing.”

“Can we talk about this later? Preferably when we're not on a bus with all the guys?” Simon asked, moving his head to look at you.

Nodding your head slightly, you pulled out your phone only to see your Twitter had been blown up with notifications. Opening your mentions tab, multitudes of people had found out about what happened and were tweeting asking if you were okay. Typing up a quick tweet just to notify that you were indeed fine, you saw Simon pull out his phone and when you got a notification that he had mentioned you, you got suspicious at what he did.

@miniminter: Wait why are people saying I cried lol

@miniminter: ‪Can't believe it happened...smh but @username is such a trooper for everything ‬[picture]

You smiled at the adorable photo of the two of you, that he had posted with the tweet. You liked the tweet and responded with a simple heart before placing a kiss on his cheek to which he smirked. In response you simply shut your eyes and rested your head on him, trying to get some peace despite the hype on the coach bus. The bus pulled up to the hotel, and you unloaded struggling a bit with your crutches and the stairs off the bus, leaning on Simon.

“You guys go party, this is us for the day. Can't really go out with her leg can we?” Simon joked as everyone stood in the lobby waiting for the other bus to arrive, motioning to you.

You felt bad that he was missing a night out with everyone, which rarely occurred, just because you had gone and gotten yourself hurt.

“You know you can go right? I really would not mind and would also totally understand if you wanna go out tonight,” you told Simon as the two of you got to the hotel room.

“And what? Leave my beautiful girlfriend in a hotel room all by herself when she's hurt? Not a chance,” he replied as he star-fished onto the bed. “Besides I'm not feeling it tonight.”

“You did everything you could, Si. Nothing you can change now so there's no use feeling bad about it,” you told him as you set down your crutches and wiggled your way to the headboard of the bed, next to where his head was placed.

“I just feel like I let everyone down because I played so shit.”

“But that's the thing, you weren't shit. You did everything you could, and you know that the YouTube Allstars wanted this one bad. Hindsight is 20/20 you did what you thought was right at the moment, and that's all a team can ask for from their captain.”

“I should be comforting you right now...I'm still pissed with whoever did this.”

You sighed. “It wasn't just one person.”

“Firstly they ruined the chances of a game next year but they also hurt one of the most important people in my life,” Simon retorted. “It doesn't matter if they're my ‘fans’ they should have respect.”

“Just forget about it, what's done is done and just be glad I'm as okay as I am,” you replied, sliding down to his level and placing a kiss on his lips. “Besides now we have the entire night to ourselves and I don't know about you but it screams Netflix time,” you giggled as you pulled away.

“And chill?” Simon said as he suggestively winked at you.

“In your dreams Minter. You may be captain but you are not calling the shots tonight,” you teased.

He laughed at your quip and pulled you closer, snuggling into your side, being mindful of your bruising and ribs.

“Hey guess what?”

“What Simon?”

“I love you.”

#miniminter #miniminter imagine #sidemen #sidemen imagine #side-angel imagines

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cosmicmadwoman · 7 years

Text

Adam and Eve Chapter 10: Love Letter

hello! I’m sorry it’s been so long, my bf was visiting and he lives far away so i was devoting all my time to him while he was here :) Without further ado, chapter 10:)

Read from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11360046/chapters/25427913

Summary: Archie dumps Veronica, Betty searches the Lodge house and Betty and Jughead have lunch with RJ

Rated: M (a little spanking)

Word Count: 5077

Betty was dreading today. Today was the last day of school before winter break, that was a plus, but what was pressing in her mind was snooping through her best friend’s house as she was supposed to be comforting said best friend during a break up. She knew how harsh is was too lose Archie-- he was well sculpted and sturdy, like a thoroughbred, but he wasn’t mature and often selfish. She didn’t regret her time wasted loving Archie, because it made loving Jughead more special. He was everything Archie couldn’t be, understanding, poetic, selfless and multidimensional. She hoped Veronica would gain that clarity when she found a new man, as she surely would.

The blonde had trouble concentrating on her classes and Veronica was noticing. The two were lab partners in chemistry and Veronica heavily relied on Betty to do the brunt of the work, but Betty’s mind couldn’t focus on the names of the chemicals and which ones didn’t go together.

“If I had known you were going to zone out today, I would’ve actually paid attention,” Veronica nudged her shoulder playfully.

“Sorry, V. Stuff has just been-- well you know. Has your dad arrived yet?” Betty asked gently.

Veronica’s face cracked and revealed a bit of sadness, but she quickly pieced herself back together and busied herself with rearranging the test tubes by size. “He’s going to be there when we get to my apartment. I’m excited for him to meet you, at least. The only true friend I’ve ever had.”

Betty gave her friend a soft smile and buckled down, scanning her notes. Veronica was clearly hurting and Betty needed to stop making it about her.

Once classes got out, Veronica was pretty much glued to Betty’s side. Archie wanted to speak with Veronica alone, and Archie kept shooting eyes at Betty for her to leave them alone when they were sitting in the student commons, but Veronica had her arm tightly looped through Betty’s.

“Maybe you can meet him sometime, Archiekins,” Veronica said.

“Huh?” Archie wasn’t pay attention, just thinking of an escape route.

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Archie said firmly. He glared at Betty again.

Betty unwrapped herself from the raven haired girl, “Archie, do you want some privacy?”

Archie responded with yes simultaneously as Veronica said no. Veronica reached for Betty’s hand as the girl stood up. Betty stood there awkwardly, Veronica clutching her sweaty palm. The girl’s lip trembled and Betty realized that Veronica had known this was coming.

“Just say it,” Veronica whispered.

“Ronnie, it’s not you, it’s me--”

Veronica scoffed, “And to think you could be more original. We are all going through shit Archie, I get it. I don’t know if you really mean to leave me, or you’re just confused, and I’m so sorry about your dad, but don’t need a boyfriend that gives up when things are hard. I’ll still be here for you if you need me, though.”

She was quite level in her speech and Betty wondered how long Veronica had seen this coming. She stood up, balanced her purse on the crook of her elbow, and linked arms with Betty again. Veronica gave a dramatic wave goodbye and swept Betty away into the black SUV Smithers was driving.

“Is everything alright Miss Lodge?” Smithers asked, looking at her through the rearview mirror, obviously seeing her red eyes from the few tears she let fall when she spoke with Archie.

“All is well, Smithers,” she replied. Veronica brushed some invisible lint off her skirt, an excuse to shield her eyes from Smithers’ concerned look.

Betty dipped her head and whispered to her friend, “How long did you sense a break up coming?”

Veronica looked up and patted Betty’s knee like she was a young, niave child.

“Archie isn’t very subtle when he gets a wandering eye. He is fiercely dedicated when he is caught up in the emotions of teenage romance, but once the trance is broken, he started scoping other girls out. This was going on even before Fred. I think I’ve had time to digest him leaving me,” Veronica explained. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not upset. We are still binging with Ben and Jerry tonight.”

“But he shouldn’t have done it today of all days….” Betty trailed off, allowing Veronica to surmise what she meant herself.

“Men aren’t known for their mindfulness for a reason, Betty.”

Smithers gave the girl’s their privacy until theyreached the lavish apartment complex. Smithers opened the car door and helped each girl out before he spoke, “Mr. Lodge is eager to see you.”

“I bet he is,” Veronica replied in a gravelly tone.

Smithers escorted the girls to the elevator and gave a curt bow when they entered. The girls were silent, both brains consumed of thoughts about dads, ex-boyfriends, current boyfriends and mystery.

Veronica paused at the door and turned to Betty. Her delicate hand rested on the golden knob.

“I haven’t seen him for months,” Veronica whispered carefully, “I don’t even know this man.”

Betty placed her palm on Veronica’s caped shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Then get to know him.”

“I don’t know if I want to.”

Before Betty could open her mouth and say, you don’t have to, just because he’s your dad doesn’t mean he’s your family, but Hiram must have heard them outside, because the door swung open and he emerged, arms wide open to embrace his daughter. Veronica’s body was rigid against his hug and her smile was strained when he pulled away and examined her face.

“You look so… mature,” Hiram admired. “I’ve missed my baby girl!”

“Missed you too, Dad,” Veronica said half-heartedly, which Betty didn’t think Hiram noticed, and if he had, he was choosing to ignore it.

Hiram gestures towards Betty, “And who is this young lady?”

Betty stretched out her hand, cautious to keep her palms closed until she shook it. Hiding her scars was second nature to her. “I’m Betty Cooper. I’m a very good friend of Ronnie’s.”

“Best friend,” Veronica corrected and smiled genuinely at Betty.

Hermonice came up behind Hiram and leaned on his back, placing her chin on his shoulder. It was all lovey dovey, but all forced Betty noticed. The person Hermione really had feelings for was dead, and that had Hiram sitting pretty again. It seemed like a solid motive, killing Fred so Hermione would stay with Hiram. But that story didn't link up with the footprints, unless Hiram hired Hacksaw, which he had done before. Yet the heels, that still didn’t add up. She was weary about searching Veronica’s place, but the more she thought about, the more she acknowledged Jughead was right.

“Betty is Alice and Hal Cooper’s daughter,” Hermione said sweetly, but with a hint of something else.

Hiram arched is highbrows and pursed his lips like he had just sucked on a lemonhead candy. “Delightful.”

Veronica crossed her arms. Why were the roles so reversed in Riverdale? The children were forgiving and kind, but the adults were all about blood and money. Specifically, family blood and family money. If they cared about family so much, why did Veronica’s parents did everything to push her away?

“Can we come in now? My feet are killing me in these new Jimmy Choo boots,” Veronica pushed past her parents and flopped on the immaculately white couch. Betty joined her awkwardly and sat up incredibly straight, afraid pressing her back onto it would leave stains and secrets on the sofa.

“What’s for dinner?” Veronica untied her heeled boots and rubbed her feet with shaking hands. Betty gave her a quick side hug, trying to transfer strength to Veronica.

“Your father and I are picking up taking out from the french restaurant and Greendale. Your father wants to stay in tonight, but wants good food, and the world knows I can’t cook!” Hermione joked, eyes sparking, but it looked likey were sparkling with tears and not happiness.

If her dad made her mom so miserable why did she stay? Veronica remembered her mom saying it wasn’t that simple, but that term was always a concoction by adults to excuse their selfish behavior, it seemed to Veronica. Maybe she would start saying that to her mother; she doubt Hermione Lodge would accept that reasoning for anything.

“Does dad want to stay in to hide from the media?” Veronica pressed.

Hiram took a deep breath and sat across from his daughter on the matching white sofa. “That is why Riverdale is so great honey, we don’t have to worry about that here.”

Veronica scoffed and murmured, “Sure.”

Hiram looked over at his wife angrily, and jerked his head towards their scowling daughter. Hermione looked started, like she was just woken from a deep sleep, “Veronica, don’t talk to your father like that,” Hiram glanced again wanting more; “You should be happy your father is home.”

Hermione's voice was robotic but Hiram was pleased with her response.

“I am,” Veronica drawled carelessly, “It’s just hard to go to back to normal after you’ve been in jail for months and I couldn’t see you.”

“You know he didn’t want you to see him like that!” Hermione chimed in.

Veronica began to brim with tears, “Yeah, whatever. Betty and I are going to my room.”

The raven haired girl sat up and took Betty by the hand to drag her along to her bedroom on the other side of the apartment. Veronica slammed the door and winced instantly, perhaps frightened by the power of her emotions.

“It’s going better than I thought,” Veronica sighed against the closed door.

Betty chuckled at that and Veronica joined in. It wasn’t necessarily a joke, but Veronica recognized how odd it sounded. Veronica was out of the shadow of her father’s spell, she didn’t want to be around him.

“Your dad seems like he has quite the hold on your mom,” Betty observed, moving to Veronica’s bed and motioning for her to join her.

“It’s always been like that,” Veronica said sitting down, “I thought it was because she loved him so much, but I think it’s because she fears him.”

The girl nestled deeper into her pillows and closed her eyes, clearly not grasping the implication of what she told Betty, who was already slowly beginning to suspect her father.

“I’m so exhausted, I wanna sleep and escape this shit. I’m sorry Betty, do you mind? You’re welcome to watch TV or do stuff on my computer,” Veronica lifted her head only slightly from the pillows and talked desperately. Veronica often used sleeping to escape and it was more than perfect timing for amaetur slueth, Betty Cooper.

“Of course, V,” Betty smiled. She tucked the covers over Veronica and kissed her forehead. Veronica is the real Sleeping Beauty. She kept her dress on, her makeup and pearls, and began to drift off quickly with her best friend beside her. Betty kept up the charade of scrolling through her phone until she heard the whispering snores of Veronica.

The blonde slipped out of her friend's bedroom and gently padded across the hall, waiting at the curve where the wall of the hallway and living room met. She hated the word eavesdropping, she preferred to think she was ‘accidentally listening to someone’s private conversation for the sake of gaining knowledge without the person’s permission accidentally’ when she eavesdropped.

“I know it’s not what you envisioned when you got the news you were coming home, but Ronnie’s been through a lot since you’ve been gone. The move, the murders, the… the business situation,” Hermione was obviously choosing her words delicately.

There was a silence, not a comfortable one, but a silence filled with hurried movement she couldn’t see and a gasp from Hermione. Betty turned her body slightly and could see Hiram and gotten up and was now clenching Hermione's wrist furiously.

“Tell her to behave, Hermione. I’m her father and she will be happy to see me,” Hiram said through gritted teeth.

Smithers walked in and coughed, causing Hiram to release his grip and brush off his trousers like it was just another day’s work to threaten his wife.

“Forgive me for intruding, but the restaurant called and the food is ready for pick up. Shall I drive you?”

Hiram nodded quickly and took Hermione's hand in a less harsh, but still firm, grip and guided her to the hanging coat rack next to the door.

“That’s alright Smithers, I would like to drive my wife myself,” Hiram replied shorty.

The Lodge parents left in a dervish and Smithers was left alone. Betty felt intrusive on his private moment, as he let his shoulders fall and inspected his white gloved hands. He sighed, the sigh of a man that failed to protect someone he loved, and she realized Smithers wanted to be more than Mrs. Lodge’s butler. Smithers had his own room down the hall from the Lodge residence, and he left the apartment to go there, she assumed.

This was her perfect chance, and she wasn’t going to waste it. Hiram Lodge hadn’t been back in civilization long, but it was clear he kept up on business even from his cell, so his office still could prove lucrative. After that would be the bedroom. Betty wasn’t pressured to work too fast, the restaurant was quite a ways away, but she couldn't dillydally on meaningless items either. She wwished Jughead was by her side, not only because it would be more efficient to split up into different rooms and then switch, combing through to find what the other would have missed, but because he was her partner through everything, and sleuthing without him didn’t feel right.

The study was at the end of the infinite hallway that had the doors to the bedrooms and bathroom. The door creaked when she opened it and she winced at the sound. Upon first impressions, the study was eerily immaculate, not a single corner of a paper out of place in the neat stack. She would have to tiptoe everywhere to preserve its pristineness. She went to the stack of paper first, but they were mostly bills that had to be paid and business memos with economic jargon she didn’t understand. One paper could be useful though, it was an unsigned contract drawn up to buy Andrews’ construction. She snapped a picture of it with her cell phone camera to look over later.

Betty gingerly opened the drawers on the oak desk, careful not to rouse the arrangement of what could be inside. It was just office supplies, incredibly unhelpful, but a bright red pen caught her eye. It was a pen from a Blossom Syrup promotion that happened several years ago, before the Lodge’s had arrived in Riverdale; Betty remembered the promotion because those pens were the best and she used them exclusively to write in her diary. Mr. Lodge must have more connections with the Blossoms than just high school and business rivals if he had been in Riverdale over eight years ago and gone to their promotion at Thorne Hill. Betty took a picture of the pen as well and made a note to look further into the Lodge and Blossom personal and business ties.

The next drawer was locked, but that was no match for Betty, she simply removed a bobby pin from her tight ponytail and jimmied the lock with it. It popped open roughly and it made on of the manilla files’ contents stick out above the rest. She pulled out the file that was labeled P followed by the dates Hiram was in prison. Betty sat on the floor and leafed through them, they were letters, all written delaticaly in feminine swirls. They were all addressed to Hiram and signed with a simple P. She wouldn’t have time to read all of these, so she shuffled through them and took pictures with her phone to read with Jughead later. Just by riffling through them, Betty could tell they were love letters. And last time she checked, Hermione didn’t start with a P.

Heavy footsteps were heard down the hallway and Betty’s body froze. How could they be back so early? Had she lost track of time? She stuffed the file back in the drawer and closed it soundlessly before scrambling under the desk just as the door opened. The person who entered didn’t call out, just simply walked to one spot, breathed out, walked to another spot in the room, breathed out again, and repeated. Betty clamped her hand over her mouth to stop the sounds of her anxious heaving. If it was Veronica, she could come up and make some excuse, Ronnie would probably believe her in the state she was in, but it wasn’t Veronica; the steps were too clunky and baritone.

Light splattered over her once the chair that was under the desk was pulled out to reveal her shaking frame. It was Smithers and he greeted her with a cautious but warm smile. Betty felt slightly relieved, but she wasn’t about to letter her guard down. He offered her a hand and she took it gingerly and he helped her up.

“You’re a brave girl,” Smithers observed.

“I need to find out what happened to my friend’s dad,” Betty said pointedly.

“Revenge is a tricky thing. There rarely is one person behind these things, and a lot of innocent people get tangled up in these sort of things,” Smithers said.

“You seem to be more aware of what’s going on then someone would first assume,” Betty said carefully.

“I’ve been a butler to rich people for a long time. They don’t get there by playing nice,” Smithers explained. “If you continue looking into their affairs, I should warn you. They’ll ruin anyone in their path.”

“I’m not scared of them,” Betty proclaimed firmly more to herself than Smithers. She was a serpent now. She had a gun and a leather jacket. Blossoms and Lodges weren’t shit anymore.

“I figured as much,” Smithers smiled fondly, “So I’ll give you a tip. Mrs. Lodge’s has the ledger for Andrews’ construction in the desk in her room. It has a combination lock. It’s Miss Lodge’s birth year. There is something in there you must see. I got a text from Mrs. Lodge that they will be arriving in 15 minutes, so you must hurry. I’ll stall them as long as I can if you aren’t out by then.”

“Are you helping me because you want Hiram out of the picture?” Betty probed.

Smithers looked uncomfortable and tightened his ridiculous tie sharply. “I am also fond of knowledge and justice, Miss Cooper.”

Betty smirked, “Uh huh.”

She scurried out of the room and through the first door on the left to Mr. and Mrs. Lodge’s room. It was pristine in there as well, even the linens were pure white with just a touch of baby blue trim. The desk on the left was black and more modern than Hiram’s, and the combination lock drawer was narrow. She spun the silver numbers to read 2001 and pulled it out easily. The ledger was the only item in there. Betty took it out gingerly, like it was a precious breakable stone, and flipped through the pages silently. Nothing but random numbers until there was something written on the back cover. It was Fred’s handwriting, Betty could tell, and it looked like notes for an upcoming project, like he doodled on the first thing he could reach. It resembled a house, a beautiful cottage by Sweetwater River, and underneath it said Hermione and Fred’s dream home.

There were building a house together? Clearly things were more serious than anyone in town knew. She snapped a picture of that as well and slipped out of the room, winking at Smithers who was guarding the door, and slipped back into Veronica’s bed like nothing was wrong.

Betty was excited when she woke up the next morning. She changed quickly while Veronica was still sleeping (she woke up for dinner, ate, they watched a movie and went right back to bed), gave her a kiss on the cheek and went back to the trailer. Jughead was already up waiting for her on the couch, leafing through a worn copy of Galapagos by Kurt Vonnegut. He bolted up right when she arrived and he looked at her expectedly.

“Well? I’ve been dying to know,” Jughead patted the cushion beside him and closed his book not bothering to save his place.

Betty sat and pulled out her phone, “I took pictures of everything. An unsigned copy of a contract to buy Andrews’ construction, a Blossom Syrup pen from many years ago they he could only get in Riverdale, love letters he got in prison… and apparently Hermione and Fred were daydreaming about a house together.”

Jughead swiped through the pictured and stopped when he go to one on the letters. “Who is P?”

Betty shrugged. “Another mystery.”

“It seems neither Lodge is faithful to their partner,” Jughead observed.

“Rich people never are, it seems.”

“Good thing you’re middle class and I’m poor,” Jughead chuckled.

Betty didn’t think it was funny. She swatted his arm and scowled. “I could have all the money in the world and I would never do that, Juggie. We’ve been through so much together and I can’t imagine being with anyone else. Nobody understands me but you.”

“That’s a cliche.”

Betty didn’t like his answer and continued to pout. “Well, it’s true so shut up. Don’t let your insecurities doubt my love for you.”

Jughead gave her a side eyed glance and shrugged. “I just hate myself a lot sometimes. I still can’t believe a girl like you could ever love me; I often wonder what alternate reality I’ve stepped into.”

“Well, wherever it is, I never want to leave,” Betty whispered and cocked her head to kiss his full lips.

He kissed her back, putting all of his insecurities into a bruising kiss and grabbing her cheek to bring her closer. She knocked his beanie off in one swipe and pushed her tongue in his mouth, exploring the wet cavern like never before, Betty wanting to show him how invested in him she was. Jughead shed his flannel followed by breaking the kiss shortly for his shirt to come off as well. He moaned hungrily in Betty’s mouth when she tweaked his nipples in between her thumb and forefinger. The couple worked together to shed all of their clothes until both were naked, Jughead on top of Betty, his hardness ready and poking at her creamy white thigh. He kissed down her neck and chest and nibbled lightly on the swells of her breast. His hand snaked down to her center and rubbed her clit in long, lazy circles. Betty arched sharply into his touch and Jughead smirked. Her little mewls and moans gave him courage to experiment.

“Can we try a new position?” Jughead asked.

Betty nodded excitedly and Jughead flipped her on her stomach and brought her up to her knees by wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling up.

“Is this okay?”

Betty just moaned in response and Jughead plunged into her from behind, the new angle causing both teens to grunt lowly like cave people. He respected Betty so much, her mind, her sound her brain… but fuck seeing her ass bouncing on his cock, the expanse of her back shiny with sweat, her blonde ponytail begging to be grabbed-- it was all so erotic. He wanted to give her an orgasm so badly, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.

“Slap my ass,” Betty ordered breathlessly, so much so Jughead couldn’t understand her.

He bent over her and whispered in her ear, “What?”

“Slap my ass, Jughead.”

Jughead growled in response and leaned back to give her wiggling ass a joyful smack. It reddened a little, but that wasn’t enough for Betty.

“Again,” she commanded.

He smakced her again she hissed. The stinging only hurt for a moment, but afterwards it was like her whole body was vibrating. Jughead smacked her ass one more time and rubbed lovingly, the combination of lust and love overwhelming her and making her clamp and cum on Jughead’s erection. The sudden tightness had him gritting his teeth and he spilled into her soon after.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Jughead said as he leaned over and kissed her spine. He rolled off and onto the floor, too warm to feel the starchy seats of the couch on his body. Betty joined him on the floor and snuggled naked on his side.

“My ass stings,” Betty murmured.

“Did I go too far?” Jughead sat up slightly and his eyes furrowed in concern.

“No, I liked it,” she smirked.

Once they were showered and dressed, they sat down to paw through the love letters Betty didn’t get a chance to read. There was nothing too personal in them that would tip off who it was, just loving admirations and some gross detailed sex acts that wouldn’t let Jughead or Betty look at Hiram Lodge the same way again. At least the horrible scenes let them know that P was indeed a woman, as he called her sexy mama and unashamedly described how he wanted to ravish her female assets.

“P mentioned conjugal visits,” Jughead pointed out.

“She was probably joking,” Betty snorted.

“We should still see if we can get records of who visited him in jail and see if he received conjugal visits from anyone,” Jughead offered.

“I guess it doesn’t hurt to try,” Betty said.

“Speaking of doesn’t hurt to try… I kind of told RJ we could meet him for lunch today. He really needs some friends,” Jughead said.

“Okay, that sounds nice,” Betty smiled and booped his nose with her finger.

Pop’s was yet again empty, so it was easy to find RJ sitting in the booth alone. He waved happily when he saw them and gestured for them to come over. Jughead and Betty sat side by side in the booth across from him and ordered two chocolate milkshakes.

“Are you excited for break, RJ?” Betty said, starting the conversation off. That was part of the reason Jughead wanted Betty to go so badly, she knew exactly how to do small talk and keep a social encounter not awkward.

“Yeah, I love being home with my parents and the girls, and now Jughead,” he smiled lazily.

“That sounds fun! I would love to meet your foster sisters, I always wanted to a little sister. I can give them makeovers or something!” Betty offered excitedly.

“That sounds fantastic!” RJ clapped his hands together and beamed at the two. “Also, I don’t like to call my sisters foster sisters, they’re more than that.”

“Of course,” Betty nodded, surprised at how good natured the boy was. “I’m sure they need a loving figure like you in their lives. Foster care usually means the child has had trauma.”

“You’re right about that. But that doesn’t define them,” RJ responded shorty.

Betty needed to work to steer the conversation into a lighter direction, “Do you have any fun Christmas traditions?”

The three teens ate and chatted for the rest of the lunch. Betty made sure never to tread away from light happy things, RJ seemed to be really sensitive, and that was fine. She was used to that, as Polly was the same way.

“Betty? Betty?” Jughead said softly, breaking Betty from her troubling thoughts.

“Oh, yes?” Betty smiled.

“I’m going to head to the bathroom then we will head out, okay?”

Betty nodded and Jughead clambered to the back. RJ looked at Betty expectedly, wanting her to talk, obviously.

“Thank you for taking Jughead in. I know he’s not there all the time, but he needs a solid place to land. So, thanks,” Betty said.

“My pleasure,” RJ said and reached out his hand and grabbed Betty’s. He intertwined their fingers and Betty was put off by his claminess. Betty knew he was just being nice, but she wanted to desperately to wiggle free from his grasp. “I got to met you.”

Now it was a little more than being nice, and Betty wrenched free, leaving RJ with a confused look on his face.

“I love Jughead,” Betty said, hoping that would back him off a bit.

“I know that,” He paused breifly before continuing, “But when you climbed through my window that night, all flushed and drunk and horny-- I usually like the innocent type, but you’re incredible. You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for. I’ve been looking in all the wrong places… but you… you’re sweet and innocent, then give your boyfriend a handjob while I’m sleeping across the room,” RJ’s voice is low and husky and Betty squirms in her seat. She didn’t know how to respond. If she punched him like she wanted to, Jughead could lose his foster family, and then where would he go? She needed him here, near her.

Before Betty had to respond, Jughead returned and offered his hand to Betty.

“Ready?” Jughead asked.

Betty swallowed and nodded, standing up quickly and pulling Jughead to the door. Jughead waved goodbye and was pushed into the truck by Betty.

“What has gotten into you?” Jughead chuckled awkwardly.

“RJ is… he hit on me, Juggie. I don’t want to be around him. Please drive,” Betty said.

“I’m sure it was a misunderstanding, I’ll go talk to him,” Jughead offered, but Betty stopped his arm that reached for the handle.

“No. It was not a misunderstanding. He likes how I’m innocent or something… and he heard us that night in the room,” Betty whispered the last part, ashamed.

“He’s an awkward kid, maybe he was just trying to be nice and it came out wrong,” Jughead shrugged.

“There’s awkward and then there is creepy. If you’re not going to believe me we are done talking about this. Either way, that,” Betty pointed to Pop’s like it was a pile of poop with flies circling it, “is never happening again.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Betty,” Jughead said.

Betty just shrugged and leaned over to the driver’s seat and turned the key for him to start the engine. “Then promise me you won’t make me see him again.”

“Of course, Betty, I promise. You’ll never see RJ again.”

#riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #bughead #bughead fanfiction #its kinda anti varchie #bughead smut #multichap

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