#I think its funny that its just this one guy's destiny to be a mild nuisance for Spiderman

[danidoesathing]

J.K. Simmons playing J. Jonah Jameson in every timeline has to be one of the funniest running gags ive seen in a movie. anyone can be Spiderman but there can only be one J. Jonah Jameson

#obsessed with this movie already #I think its funny that its just this one guy's destiny to be a mild nuisance for Spiderman #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spider man #across the spider verse #Spiderman across the spiderverse #j jonah jameson #dani speaks #spiderverse

[imnotwolverine]

Wolfie’s Fic Recs | Dad!Fics

DAD!FICS - Henry and his characters with kids, wanting kids, making kids. That’s it. That’s this list. 

Author’s note: My sincere apologies for how crazy long this list has gotten 😂 It’s like the whole fandom is agreeing on one thing: this man needs a baby ASAP. Also, thank you dear @littlefreya for your ever wonderful suggestions! 

--

With Henry

Single dad Henry is trying to figure out a hair tutorial to please his 4-year old, and it’s the most adorable thing ever. With Flowers In Her Hair by @wanna-do-bad-things 

Single dad Henry kinda hittin’ on da nanny? Picture Perfect by @fun-with-jane is a short fic series that’ll get you kinda hot, and kinda bothered (the slow burn..ARGH) 

Getting you pregnant is, apparently, a very VERY exact science including honey-wine-&-cookies.. baby. Freyja Dag by @geek-eat-repeat

And don’t forget about timing! THE TIMING! Let’s Make One Of Our Own is the sweaty hot smut you might just crave (am I the only one ovulating right now?), fic by @littlefreya. 

Sometimes it’s also just a situation of super sperm, followed by an “oopsie baby”. And when two bullheaded fuckbuddies-to-be-parents are involved, things can get pretty ..engaging: The Rules Of Engagement by @ladyreapermc (multi-chapter). 

Or perhaps it’s a situation of Henry and his untameable Hunger, by @littlefreya (yes, it’s breeeeding smut my lassies -- again, forgive me for I am thirsty) 

Pregnancy ain’t always sunshine and rainbows. There’s also a lot of change and self-doubt. But that’s nothing some coconut oil and love can’t fix, in Two Months by @littlefreya

There’s a lotttt of first times with having children, which in turn will probably give quite a few heart Flutters for poor protective dad Henry. By @littlefreya

And he’s not just protective, he’s also pretty observant. This Cute Little Drabble makes you wonder when you last bought tampons... by @toomanystoriessolittletime​

Newborns? They can be a little fussy. But again, daddy bear is here to fix it! Everything I Ever Wanted by @fuckoffbard

With the brood expanding, it’s getting a little difficult to garner the ever-craved attention of momma bear in This Is War by @cruelfvkingsummer

And when mom isn’t home? Well..the question arises what happened to all the cookies.. Daddy’s day by @angrythingstarlight

Okay, one more by @angrythingstarlight because I couldn’t choose: Baby Talk

And Henry’ll learn soon enough that changing your facial hair should go with a disclaimer. Especially when toddlers are involved. Daddy Who? by @viking-raider

And facial hair also reminds me of this fic; Domestic Life by @writernerd23 (-> “Your face is scratchy, Daddy.” <- CUTE)

The Accidental Family by me. A domestic sad-fluffy short series about memory loss -- After a motorcycle accident, Henry suddenly finds himself living the life he always dreamed of. There’s only one small hitch; he can’t remember how he got here.

And to carry on with the more sad fluff-stuff. How would Henry deal with the less rosy parts of trying to have children - like miscarriage? Negative is a beautiful fic that got me balling my eyes out and you should definitely read it if you’re in the need for some sad, sad fluff. By @oddduckthatgirl​

Perhaps things didn’t quite go as planned - whatever the plan was. This sad-to-fluff fic brings you on the rollercoaster of extremely sad to fuzzy warm and happy. Better Off by @toomanystoriessolittletime​

More tear-jerkers? 😭Falling Again by @deathonyourtongue follows struggling AU dad!Henry as bills keep piling and the loss of his wife haunts his every waking moment. 

Back to the fun stuff - *chants* Rugby dad! Rugby dad! I couldn’t pick just one from the extensive list of rugby dad Henry fics by @hlkwrites and @achaoticaugust - let’s be honest; this should be a genre on its own, so here’s a few: 

Henry Cavill, The Rugby Dad Part 2 (smut, daddy kink) I laughed perhaps a tad too loud at the drunk make-out session on the front lawn - here’s some short sexy rugby dad Henry drabbles. 

 A Rugby Dad’s Guide To Injury Time  (smut) I just love smut when it slow, sensual and JUST a tiny bit awkward because you’re on the couch and someone’s leg is in a cast 😜

A Rugby Dad’s Guide To The Off Season (smut) And after the hard toil of keeping a family up and running, it might just be time for a hot (tub) little break 

With Sy

A few short, golden moments in becoming first-time parents with Sy - including skin-to-skin daddy cuddles - what else do you want? Evermore by @hauntedelation is a fluffy fic that gets me all kinds of fuzzy inside.

Talking “short” golden moments..this one includes one short reader, a coffee mug and one teasing oaf-of-a-bear Syverson. (smut) Of Short Girls And High Shelves by my fellow Lisa, also known as @killjoy-assbutt-1112 (hi girl!) 

Cankles, have never been so hot a subject to talk about as they are in this lovely fic by @crimsonrae: Cigarettes and Morning Breath 

And before you know it, you have a whole brood. Will that stop Sy? Meh..probably not. Fourth Time’s The Charm by @cruelfvkingsummer

And once he HAS a daughter? Woof! Dad Syverson is probably just a LITTLE bit too overprotective. But that’s nothing a daughter-dad weekend can’t fix. Daddy Syverson by @connieisland​

Imagine this: one big chunky Captain Syverson and one tiny, tiny babygirl cradled in his arms. Are you melting yet? Siobhán is just the cutest little fic, by @littlefreya

We really want Sy to get a daughter huh? And that’ll be particularly funny when daughter sweet becomes old enough for Prom Night -- we’ll be back with overprotective daddy Sy who is ever stubborn, but also ever sweet. By @littlefreya

Onto the holidays: Santa brings back home a 5-year old’s one true wish in Santa Letter Wish by @lovelycavills 

And sometimes? You wish the babe would wait JUST a few days before getting born. Christmas, Baby by @its--fandom--darling

Now. To finish off the Sy vibes; are you perhaps in the need of one heck of a good series? Willow Run is one of the first series I read here on Tumblr and it is SO GOOD. I won’t blab and just let you read ❤️ you won’t regret it. By @deathonyourtongue

With Geralt

Geralt, Destiny, one stubborn girl and the Law of Surprise - it’s a recipe for great adventures and funny grumpy dad!Geralt moments. This wonderful multichap fic A Soldier’s Daughter is written by @viking-raider​ 

I know it’s canonically impossible for a Witcher to get anyone pregnant (due to the Trial of the Grasses). But you know..if ..and when..and maybe..then: A Gentle Soul by @killjoy-assbutt-1112

With Marshall

Some mild roleplaying, rough smutiness and unexpected news make this love-making sesh a wild-wild ride. Heart Of Darkness by @littlefreya

Sleepless is a wonderful multichap fic with Marshall x single!mom reader. @feralrunaway gives you awkward barbecue chat and protective Marshall being ever protective. There’s no masterlist, so here’s (I think) all the chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

Can you imagine big hunky chunk Marshall being worried when you get all teared up with emotion? Baby Blues gives you allll the cute caring dad!Marshall you need. By @the-soot-sprite

With August

A child born out of love and chaos, is all August craves when he comes back home. Mother Of Murder by @littlefreya​ (smut) 

Bad guys, accidental babies and *BOOM* suddenly it’s not just you who calls August “daddy” ((pun intended here, please don’t hate me 😂)) Surprise, surprise.. by @maya-the-cute-ass-bee

And once such that surprise happens, August knows one thing for sure: he’d burn the whole world to a crisp if anything was to happen to you and his unborn child. In this Imagine by @littlefreya

With Napoleon

Sobs, cries and accidentally getting pregnant by spies ((the puns are getting worse, I swear I’ll show myself out in a bit)). On a serious note though: this multi-chapter is an angsty rollercoaster with a tinge of fluff by @coloraturadiva - A Mistake 

With Sherlock

Dad!Sherlock fics are surprisingly hard to find, but here’s one: Promises by @zodiyack is a bit of a modern interpretation of a Victorian household, and it sure as hell is delightful!  

--

WEW! That was a LONG list - wonderful work dear fic writers! And, as ever; if you have any good recommendations that fit in this list, please add in the comments or reblog! ❤️

( Fan art by me 😊)

#henry cavill fanfiction #fic recommendations #rpf #dad!henry #dad!syverson #dad!sy #dad!geralt #dad!marshall #dad!august #dad!napoleon #dad!sherlock #wolfie's fic recs

[simptasia]

hc questions 5, 6, 7, 26, 44 & 47 for any or all of the science team members if you want? :)

oh bless!! thank you!! i’ll go with My Beloved Three, as usual, the sci trio

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

my hcs on this have wobbled over time but overall i imagine dan, char and miles are all like, fairly, neat. tho they all have a tendency to leave papers around

and miles doesn’t make the bed as much. cuz imagining miles napping in rumpled quilts is a very cute mental image. hair disheveled

i think a good term for whats going on with dan and char is Organized Chaos. they’re both scientists (and a musician) for heck’s sake. it doesn’t look like they know what they’re doing but they do. but ur not gonna walk into their house(s) and be like “ugh gross what the fuck”. it’s nice. dan tends to make the bed

and i imagine dan keeps The Rat Room (yes, you heard me) immaculate because you reeeeeeally want that area to be well cared for

as for personal, lets get this out of the way, none of them are yucky. but dan is showering the least, just due to absent mindedness and hyperfixation. like ya really get into a project and then suddenly oh fuck i need a shower. but thats relative. he’s not a stinky gross boy. i imagine miles washes the most because like, he has body piercings and those GOTTA be cleaned every day, especially the downstairs one. miles values his dick, he don’t want an infection

also its amazing how much more you shower/bathe when you have a partner. or in this case, two partners. in general and for sexy purposes. hell yeah

well thats enough of me picturing these three showering, moving on

Eating habits and sample daily menu

its odd how often i’ve pictured these people eating together

dan: eats the least (and for once that isn’t a skinny joke, he could eat cake every day and he’d still be like that) because for the most part he doesn’t have much of an appetite. he eats what he needs, with random bursts of being really hungry (it’s a neurodivergent thing). i imagine he has a extra fondness for pasta and can put a surprising amount of it away when he wants to. tho typically for ease, he’ll stick to noodles. he takes his coffee mild and decaf. i hc him as a vegetarian due to not being able to process meat. his body also cannot handle alcohol and the one time he tried it he needed to be hospitalized. his ice cream preference is vanilla with chocolate sprinkles. or honeycomb. favourite vegetable is capsicum (which he’d call a bell pepper because he’s american), favourite fruit is pineapple. on that note he likes pineapple pizza. overall he eats simple but isn’t against trying new things. he has a very neutral disposition towards food

char: of the trio, i define charlotte as the Loud Passionate One so obviously being a big eater goes with that, likes a big breakfast (eggs, sausages, sometimes french toast!), sometimes skips lunch when she’s working at the museum due to focus, has a ravenous sweet tooth (i haven’t been subtle that i’ve made her ADORE chocolate but in general i see her liking sweet things), she can handle eating less tho because she’s gone on plenty of expeditions and such. so i think she eats a lot under normal circumstances because, like, she can. i don’t think i need to tell you what her ice cream or starbucks preferences are, do i? takes her coffee with three sugars, two coffees and creamy. likes mochas and hot chocolates too. with marshmallows. naturally, her fave kind of chocolate is galaxy because she is an English Woman. another fave of hers is cadbury’s creme eggs. but lest you think Good Lord Sapphire This Woman’s Entire Body Is A Sugar Molecule, don’t worry she does eat well. like veggies, fruits, meats, she’s fine. of meats, she has a fondness for fish (i have no further information, im terrible with fish. but she’s a pom, so...). favourite fruit is pear, favourite vegetable is peas. likes a bacardi, or rum and coke

miles: he eats a “normal” amount but he’s a grazer. which means, not so much Set Meal eating than eating/snacking thru out the day. he takes his coffee black, no surprise, but with sugar! see, its a metaphor. for him. likes fried eggs and hash browns. his fave food is very cheap mac and cheese. i think in general he really likes cheese. he doesn’t have complicated tastes, like, he grew up poor. he likes seafood (in particular fish tacos) but not lobster as he discovered when he got cashed up. he likes salty food but likes sweets too, in particular i can imagine him snacking on m&ms, skittles, gummi bears. little things. doesn’t have a fave vegetable because he doesn’t care enough, to him veggies are things to eat so you won’t die. doesn’t hate him but isn’t excited to eat ‘em. fave ice cream is mint choc. he’ll drink whatever (except for vodka) but is used to beer. thinks pineapple on pizza is an abomination, espech since he really likes pizza otherwise. i consider him a food opportunist, like, oh theres food here? yoink. or like, oh hey, if everybody else is eating, i’ll have whatever’s going on

....i feel like whenever i write hcs about these guys my brain takes on their tone. like, that was a lot of short, eh whatever, sentences for miles there

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

dan:

- reading (really depends on how you define Wasting Time). also he composes music and when he was alive, that was considered wasting time (ugh)

- sometimes even just doing hobbies or work or whatever, even then, he tends to have this feeling of never doing enough due to his Perfectly Healthy And Supportive Upbringing [seethes] so uhhhh basically, anxiety? like this was a dude raised to think anything other than his work was a waste of time. it didn’t exactly work but a decent amount of that Pressure has to still sit with him

char:

- watching tv, espech star trek

- not a waste of time if you’re enjoying yourself

miles:

- card and board games (weren’t expecting that, were ya? i’m not saying that's his Fave Thing To Do, but he considers that a good chill out thing to do. something to do when ur bored but you don’t feel like watching tv or having sex)

- “it’s something to do”

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

dan:

for original lifetime dan, it was Do Science, Make Mom Proud (tiny voice: and maybe spend the rest of my life with charlotte. if i’m lucky. maybe. please? love?) cuz i imagine dan, although very focussed on the future, actually doesn’t think/care about HIS future. i just don’t think he cares about himself enough

limbo dan is like Make Music, Love Charlotte. which is fair. and then Love Miles on top of that. so yeah, just wants to be a good musician and husband. and one day, father. with char actually in his life in this world, thats def on his mind. he won’t bring it up tho, he’ll wait for her to mention it :3

(dan’s canon contingency plan for things not working out is hydrogen bomb)

char:

alive char, like, ADVENTURE! ISLAND! SOLVE MYSTERIES! that makes it sound like she’s a fucking scooby doo character. i mean, her Goal was to find the island and find out what the fucky duck is going on. she did that. and overall his goals seem like adventure/career orientated. i hc that this version of char never intended on getting married or having kids. she wasn’t Against the ideas and she’s certainly had romances but she was more thinking of other things. (that and i think deep down char thought nobody would ever wanna marry her)

in limboverse There Is No Mystery but she still has her great job(s), that is she works at a museum and i think she goes on expeditions sometimes. so theres that, she’s got the great career. really, her Plan for the future in this world is live the live she couldn’t before. she (and dan!) died young so they’re gonna like, actively adore each other and get married and have kids. and also miles is there. ha, that sounded so rude. she loves miles too. (besties/fuck buddies turned Hey You Wanna Join Me And Dan’s Relationship and miles like... yeah sure)

miles:

step one: get money to fill gaping hole of sadness in chest

step two: ????

step three: die

and even my limbo miles whomst i’ve put with dan and char doesn’t have any plans for the future, besides like, do his job and maybe become a dad again (context: i hc that miles had two kids with richard when he was alive). so he’s still chilling but without the depressing ache of loneliness and bitterness

so basically long story short for all of them (in limboverse): Love & Family

Superstitions or views on the occult?

ohooo i like this one

dan: didn’t grow up believing in magic and such (which is super ironic because his mother is a fucking other) but he has a very open mind. i think he’ll believe it if he’s thrust into the situation. it’s interesting really, dan is known as the science guy and that's great but he’s super fucking accepting of not science shit. tho of course, he’s not seeing the island time travel as magic but science. but more importantly, he regards miles’ powers with zero doubt or questioning. he doesn’t even seem confused, he is absolutely on board with miles being able to talk to dead people. this all implies miles told him off screen and dan believes him

so basically he’ll accept whatever is presented to him as true

which honestly, is what a good scientist is like. the trope of the scientist character who is ultra non believing of the supernatural, even when they’re seeing it before their eyes, is annoying. like, you know the ones? the ones who get angry about it. the overly skeptical scientist. hate that. dan is not that

and his character arc includes embracing free will over destiny so there's that

char: she’s not superstitious and doesn’t believe in magic or the supernatural at all. tho thrown into bizarre situations she’s like ???? but has to accept it. and she KNOWS something is up with the island. she knows its different. i just mean, under normal circumstances she’d regard magic stuff as funny nonsense. i hc that char, in living life, doesn’t believe miles can speak to the dead. really fucking weird this isn’t addressed in the show but hahaaaa they wasted char! anyways and like, if presented with the concept that dan’s brain damage is being healed by the island, she’d look confused, say thats impossible but she’d think on it

what i’m saying is she’ll rule out magic concepts at first, on reflex. but would grow to accept them, especially with stuff she knows/has repressed

she doesn’t believe in ghosts, psychics, visions, magic healing and all those exist in her world, so it’s all a matter of experience

miles: WELL WHADDYA THINK

actually it’s funny. miles has magic powers but he’s 0% superstitious and i imagine outside of his own powers, he really doesn’t believe in the occult. i hc that until he personally proved otherwise, he grew up thinking he was mentally ill. and once he realised it was true, thought he was some kind of freak

and he’s incredulous when he finds out hurley has powers too. tho miles, being miles, does roll with the punches a lot in the show, he’s skeptical when it comes to hurley's power. and i find that interesting. also i fucking love how when hurley describes his power, miles says “thats not how it works”, like ???? babe???

but overall his attitude on the island is like “well. this is happening”

i do think thru his life, despite his power, he doesn’t believe in All Magic or occult or whatever. i also hc that he attracted those kind of people who are REALLY into astrology and auras and stuff like that and he found them exasperating. (i think he’d be a lot more okay with it if it was claire who was talking about astrology and palm reading with him. he’d be endeared when its her)

and i think he thinks other psychics he’s met or seen on tv are straight up bullshit. he can believe he has it but he’s skeptical of other people. just assumes they’re scammers. hell, he was a scammer. who just happened to have the power. he was like “well i have this, i may as well get some use outta it”

oh and in limboverse, they all kinda have to accept their situation. and they take it with ease due to appreciating getting happier lives

How do they express love?

a dan who loves you will pet your face and look at you like ur his entire reason to live. a char who loves you will squeak at your jokes and will never once let you feel bad about yourself. a miles who loves you is sorry he isn’t better at this stuff but he really is trying... sure we can cuddle if you wanna, that’s cool v///v

the dan and char we saw in the show was them holding back and i find that very amusing because they were HEART EYES AS FUCK for each other and so affectionate and so soft hearted, like oh my gosh. canon show dan/char is them when they’re pining... when they’re not even a couple (yet, damn it)

imagine them at full power

i figured it out, dan/char couldn’t be an Official Couple because then jeremy davies and rebecca mader would have destroyed us all, especially me

anyways. they’re both very protective of each other. they... they touch each other a lot. like a lot for people who aren’t dating and whomst don’t think the other one loves them. like char is surprised when dan says he loves her. that fucking astonishes me. HE’S NOT SUBTLE. char are you okay???

dan is more open about the love than char, seeing as he said it. and double downed on it. char i feel was holding back for different reasons than dan. dan was holding back (fucking barely) because of eloise’s Love Will Only Bring Pain upbringing, which’d give somebody a serious complex. so he was adverse to actually pursuing a relationship AND i figure he thought “she wouldn’t wanna be with me anyways”. but char i imagine, a deep seated insecurity and need to be defensive, but also! dan was like REALLY mentally unwell before the island. and that's the dan that char knows (and loves) but she’d feel guilty if she pursued anything with him. like she’s taking advantage of a brain damaged person

ah fuck i went on a big thing about why they didn’t become a couple instead of like.... the question. how do they express love? like they did in the show. smiles, touches, longing gazes, protectiveness. they would die for each other

as for miles, how does he express love? Not Well. at first

whoever is the first person he fell in love with (i imagine richard), he was not good at... being open about that. i don’t think miles is good with love. lived his life pretty detached/bitter about the concept, which i imagine is due to having cynicism about life and death. everybody you love is gonna die, so why bother? (his mom dying hit him pretty hard) so uhhh its gonna be... baby steps

slowly becoming more open about liking somebody, becoming more affectionate, more... uh, couple-y (and later throuple-y). it’d take time and he will always be miles, but hey, he gets there. he’ll still always have his snark but he won’t be a Genuine Asshole to people he loves. heck, i imagine he’ll be downright soft in the right situation. and he can be gentle and kind. he’s a salty boy not a cunt

but i digress. basically he’s a little “yeah, yeah, i love you too, shut up” about it but he does have that soft gooey center. basically those who know him, and love him, know his true heart. it’s just a part of being miles “defensive walls” straume

feels love (and even that takes him a while to realise, cuz he hasn’t been a romantic relationship kinda guy, most of his life his relationships have been a Just Sex thing), not Great at like... Doing Love, you know what i mean? but like once he’s used to it, he can be quite a tender little pudding cup, actually

#asalesbian #lost headcanons #BRUH I WROTE SO MUCH #SOOOO MUCH #sometimes i hold back #but this time i took the chance to go on some tangents and such #i really enjoyed this!

[jay-cult]

A Golden Promise

Hey guys :D I wrote a little one shot for Rhon during my free time in school. After this I can start working on chapter fics and stuff during class. For now have this lovely fic.

*Features Rhon and Scree, told from Rhon’s perspective primarily *Hints of Jaya, maybe more than hints *Also has lots and lots of Jay. Lots *Mild swearing because Rhon is a hecker *I actually have no idea how making jewelry works, I literally made this up I’m admitting this now, but I’ll fill in that hole with “it’s Rhon’s way”

While “lounging” around in her freetime, Rhon puts on a new task when her nephew brings her news and asks for help with a creation, and perhaps with more.

A Golden Promise

Rhon was having a sort of usual day.

“So, what are you thinking for this one, eh? How much are you gonna rip me off this time?” Her client asked, half joking.

She leaned in. “I told you the price,” she said flatly, but still repeated the obviously fair payment that he was to give her. In return for his vehicle being fixed, he would give her money. That’s how life worked, weirdo.

Scree was perched casually on her shoulder, and he leaned toward the client like her, trying his best to appear intimidating. The eagle fixed him with a piercing stare.

“Alright, alright, I’m jokin’, calm down,” he smiled and waved his hand in a sweeping motion as if to say, “Forget about it.” He readied a bag full of gold coins and tossed it at her.

Scree hopped off from her shoulder and quickly grabbed the bag before it hit her, but the weight of it immediately made him drop to the ground before he could spread his wings enough. He let out a screech.

Rhon looked menacingly toward where her client had just stood, but he was already climbing into his newly fixed vehicle.

“Ninjago should really establish some form of paper money,” she muttered to Scree while picking the bag of gold up from the ground.

To keep property private and all that, Rhon wouldn’t usually do her business while her airship was docked where the ninja’s place of residence was, which at this time was the newly built Monastery. She wasn’t there often. The lack of business, the noise of her companions, and the distance from fresh resources also made for a not-so-beneficial time. But today, she was staying with said companions for the simple reason of wanting to spend time with them. She did care about them, after all.

She and Scree made their way inside her airship, the Grayscale. It was big enough to hold a workshop where she could work on a couple of business and creative projects, a bedroom, a large guestroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a general piloting area atop the deck that contained many control panels filled with levers, buttons, and monitors, and of course the cockpit with a steering wheel. The deck itself was plain, with a few masts with sails enabling its flight. It was maybe two thirds of the size of the ninjas’ many previous models of the Destiny’s Bounty.

She built it herself, with some help from a friend, a long time ago.

Rhon set the bag down on a table in her workshop. She sat down and sorted through the coins, counting up the value. Scree disappeared while she was counting and returned with a couple of lizards in his mouth, settling down on a perch by the table to consume them. Rhon looked down at her calculations. One gold coin short. Figures.

“RhooOOOOON! AUNT RHON! Hi-”

Rhon jumped in her seat, scattering coins all over the table. Scree lifted into the air and let out a surprised shriek. Rhon exhaled and relaxed, but Scree continued to flap in midair, clearly choking on something.

“Scree? Fuck-” Rhon stood out of her seat again, jumping up to grab her bird.

“Aa! Oh no! I’m sorry, ooohhhh no.” It was Jay. He ran over quickly, clearly not really knowing what to do and looking on concerned.

Finally, after a few retches and hits on the back, Scree coughed and a lizard came flying out of his throat. It splatted on a wall.

“That... literally could not have gone worse,” Rhon sighed.

Jay scratched his neck, embarrassed. “I am SO sorry, shoot, I didn’t mean to-”

“Of course you didn’t, don’t get all twisted up,” she interrupted, though frowning. If it was any normal person they would be up to their ears in Rhon’s insults and accusations, but this was Jay. “Just… shake it off.”

Her nephew suddenly brightened up. Scree flapped over and landed on his shoulder, signifying forgiveness. “Okay, okay. I came here to tell yoouuu something great, oh man.”

Rhon crossed her arms and narrowed on of her eyebrows, looking at him curiously. Sure, Jay was enthusiastic and, well, emotional, but him being THIS excited-looking was a rare case. “Alright, what?”

“So, uh, like, you know, Nya.”

“Yes, yes, I know Nya, she’s kind of a close ally of mine,” Rhon said slightly sarcastically. She couldn’t really help it.

“Yeah, yeah, Nya, well. Going to….. I’m going to….. ask her to be my Yang!” Jay revealed enthusiastically.

“Oh wow, really?” Rhon asked, actually surprised. “Wow, uh, congrats!” She awkwardly smiled.

She noticed that her nephew was about ready to jump out of his pants.

“Damn Jay, calm down,” she said a bit forcefully, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Rhon knew that her Jay was an expressive person, so something this huge might just have made him explode. “I can barely understand you.”

“Sorry, sorry, just.” He forced himself to stop being so jittery. “I’m…. really excited, and nervous especially.”

No kidding. She stood there looking at him with Scree on his shoulder and thinking it over. Jay and Nya were, at the least, different. That’s what made them special, she thought. The two were quite obviously mad for each other. The reason was, quite simply put, that they had just been through so much. Through suffering and even through death… real death. Young love, am I right? She thought sarcastically. To herself.

“Anyway, um.” Jay chilled down a little bit, becoming much more like himself. “I’m not just telling you the news.”

Rhon raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I really need your help.”

She thought he must have been joking for a second, and was about to say that he got her. But for once he had a serious look on his face. “Wait,” she said after a few moments of silence. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah, of course, I need a charm.”

Rhon let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank FSM. I thought you meant- oh, nevermind.”

Her nephew stood confused for a while before he burst out laughing. “WHAT? You thought I wanted to ask you to help with the general thing? Like th-the asking and the romance and like, the wooing-”

Rhon wasn’t really used to being made fun of, so she just stood there frowning and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, hell no am I a romantic. Great Garm does that generate a weird image.”

Jay laughed more at her statement. “Oh man I’m just imagining this like, you, but Scree’s kind of flying around in majestic circles,” Scree let out a little noise at the mention of his name, “and your cape is flowing in the wind and you’re going, uh, ‘hey there, sweetheart,’ with a twinkle in your eye or something.”

She started to laugh a little. “Imagine I’m making some sort of a heart made of lightning.”

“Ah, Garm,” he let out his breath, “that’s funny. Wait wait wait, look, you mean like this?”

Jay brought his hands up to his chest and jerked them a little. Lightning flew out of them and formed a fantastic heart shape. His face was twisted in extreme focus.

“Hey, that’s actually really good,” Rhon complimented. She followed, bringing her hands up to her chest, and trying the best in her mind to flex out the bolts. Same jolted off to the side, while others flew up too far.

“Try bending your hands back a bit more,” the blue ninja instructed. “And you gotta focus, which yeah, is really hard, but you can- yeah, there you go!”

Rhon smiled upon seeing herself be able to do the fun trick. She was extremely tempted to bust out a “Hey there, sweetheart,” but as much as she loved her nephew, she retained her dignity.

“You could try this thing out on your girl,” Rhon suggested.

“Ooh, yeah you’re right, that’s a great idea!” He said, accepting her suggestion. “I sure will sometime.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Okay, fun’s over. You wanted the charm, right?”

“Yeah, you know how to make stuff, right?”

“Well, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly the craft-tsy type. Draw-tsy, sure, but…”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not the same.”

He chuckled a bit.

“Ah, I’m just kiddin’. I’ve made odes of gold from my last fix. I may not be ‘crafty’ but I’ve got an idea. We can try it out.” She ruffled the short boy’s hair and walked off to retrieve a stool from her workshop’s auto-fixing… area… thing. The place where vehicles would go when she worked on them.

She returned to her desk and set the stool beside her chair, making an area of two seats. Rhon looked at the still-scattered coins on the desk. With the help of Scree (Jay was off poking around in her workshop. She let only him and sometimes Nya if they were together do so with the whole ship) she gathered the coins up into a bag.

Rhon readied her smelter and placed a large amount of coins- there not being enough later would be a problem- in it. Finally, some hard clay and carving tools in her hands, she made her way back to her desk.

Jay returned there at the same time and Scree made a perching area out of his head. She placed the glob of clay in front of him, leaving a little for herself. In front of him she also placed a piece of paper and a pen.

She sat down, ready to give him a few hours of her time. “What are your ideas?”

“Well it’s a Yin and Yang charm, obviously,” he replied. “We’ll be making that symbol with the charm. Each part goes to its respective party.” Jay reached for his head and scratched Scree on his neck. The eagle let out a soft churr. “So then maybe we could the elemental signs on each respective part.”

He carefully sketched out the symbol. He drew another circle around it, putting his two lines on one side and Nya’s curvy splash on the other. He labelled his with Yin and hers with Yang.

“Well it’s really nice but also too bland,” he sighed.

“Creativity’s your thing,” Rhon pushed. “Do something with it.”

“Well I can’t just… force myself to do it,” he argued. “Ideas aren’t made, they pop out of thin air, during the wrongest times, like in the shower, or in the middle of making-”

“OKAY, alright, yeah, sorry,” she interrupted, “I just hoped you’d at least have gotten an idea already. How long ago did you start thinking about doing this again?”

“Like a week ago, but in all honesty, there’s so much else to distract me about it, I can hardly think about something as detailed to the situation as charm designs. Like what about the clothes I’ll wear or the way I’ll have to have my hair look on the day I ask.”

As Jay spoke he looked down at his gi, emphasizing his point. His eyes trailed the intricate gold designs of the beautiful dragon that stretched across him. “Oh, wait! Dragons… dragons are really cool.”

Rhon nodded as he sketched down the design onto the paper. “You know, I hate being prodded, but I’m still gonna prod you. You seem a little nervous to do this. ‘Little’ is, ah, relative.”

“YEAH YOU THINK?!” Jay yelled. He seemed to know what to do, as he took the clay and some tools and began carving the shape of a half of the charm, frustratingly digging out the curves and lines. “I mean, what if I’m not really the best. Actually, yeah, I’m not the best, it’s a fact. What am I even doing, I’m not even as strong as Cole, I’m not as smart as Zane. I don’t have near Kai’s looks… those do run in the family… and Lloyd’s leadership abilities and social skills are beyond my ability. And Nya, well she has like, so much of all of those skills. I’m just a rip-off compilation of everyone. And I mean, I have freckles. What cute person has freckles?”

Rhon was taken slightly aback. Very aback, actually. It had been ages since someone had ever expressed such deep negative feelings to her before, since she wasn’t exactly the best giver of advice. When her sister had yelled in distress, she had listened.

When it came to family, she’d still listen.

She made sure her nephew was done and looked at him. “What cute person has freckles?” she mumbled. “I’ll show you what cute person has freckles.”

“Huh?” Jay said. “Nevermind. Stop staring at me like that, you make eye contact as often as I enter a fight without fear.”

“Jesus,” she said, tilting her head and frowning. “You sure know how to put yourself down.”

He suddenly looked as if he regretted everything. His eyes widened in realization, he scrunched back guiltily, and he purposefully looked away, focusing back on his project and saying not another word.

“You know,” Rhon piped up quietly, “I may not be the prettiest woman alive… I mean I’m getting so OLD. And my eyes definitely show how tired I am, and I’m rarely seen smiling. And have you seen this slouch?”

He continued to pick delicate strokes into his clay. “Old, huh? Thirty is old…”

“But when I was a kid, and I grew up with your mother, I thought she was the prettiest person alive. Us Staticholders valued beauty and wealth, so the way I was raised should really show how right I was. And you’ve seen your father, yeah? Up on the big screen, bein’ that cool, hot mess, famous n’ all. And though not nice-looking myself, I have a say in the matter for sure. And what I will say is that you’re a perfect mix of the two. You are the hottest kid on this side of Ninjago.”

He smiled a little bit. “Yeah, yeah, I guess that makes me feel a little better.” Scree flew off his head and landed behind his carved cast, cooing at him.

“And even if you had the grossest, most repulsive face in the history of every creature alive, your heart of gold wins above everything. You care so much about all your friends, and definitely about your girlfriend, and that’s all that matters.”

“And don’t forget you, you crazy old geezer,” he snickered.

“Oh yeah? Call me a geezer one more time and I’ll kick your ass,” she laughed, standing up off her chair and plunging her hands into his hair, messing it up in the everlasting aunt move of rufflement.

“Geezer, geezer, geezer,” he prodded.

“Oh you’re just asking for it!” she yelled, messing it up even more.

They settled down and she patted his head in a finishing touch.

“Okay,” Rhon said, “One more thing. What the hell is up with the freckle thing?”

Her nephew chuckled and shyly answered, “Ah, yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to offend you or anything..”

“Freckles, dear Jay, are like the beauty spots of the waking world. Nobody hates freckles. They are a damn blessing.” She tugged on the wraps on one of her arms and wrapped it off quickly.

“Holy shit,” he marveled, seeing her freckle-invaded arm.

Rhon gasped and smacked him upside the head.

“What was that for-?”

“You don’t just say shit like that!”

“But you do- you JUST-”

“Just because it’s me, doesn’t mean it should be you,” Rhon growled.

“Aw, come on,” Jay was smiling, an eyebrow narrowed. “I’m VERY grown-up.”

“The minute you say grown-up you lose the ability to BE grown up,” she commented back. “But anyway. How is your charm coming along?”

He picked it up and placed it in front of her. It was very intricately carved, a dragon with the dot in its jaw in line with the flow of the shape.

“Okay, good,” she said. “Now we have to put this in the oven so it hardens.”

~

Scree A. Buckbeak III soared above the monastery on his midday hunt. His independence from Rhon was only certain times, usually in the relaxation periods of the day. Relaxation for her, that is. He flapped down to perch on the roof. His claws scraped the fresh brick, still so smooth and perfect because of how recent the monastery had been rebuilt. He twitched his head sideways so that his eye faced the commotion of the humans below.

A newly-old-bodied Sensei Wu sipped some tea under the shade below. In the shade beside him, Rhon leaned against an outer wall. Wu put the teacup down and closed his eyes in a focused thought.

In the blazing sun, six brightly-dressed ninja were already standing aside, weary. They had already grown tired of their previous excitement for the brand new training equipment, and as it moved and mechanized in the searing heat, they whined.

“But Sensei,” Jay, Scree’s favorite, argued. “We’re already so… trained up and old and learned. Do we have to still..?”

“Yeah,” the red one agreed. “Isn’t there better things to fight around the island somewhere?”

The green one stepped forward, looking a little reluctant. “I’m afraid I have to agree with them, Sensei. Why train on useless things when we could be saving people and fighting crime out there?”

Wu opened one eye, gazing at the ninja. “I am quite aware that you wish to be the heroes of every crime in Ninjago,” he replied, “however not every nuisance needs a ninja.”

Scree turned his head and scratched the back of his neck with his claw. As the ninja began to train like police dogs the sun sunk lower into the afternoon, lengthening their shadows across the course.

He watched as Jay stumbled over to the girl, exhaustion evident in every one of his limbs. “The FSM is merciless,” he groaned.

She giggled and patted his back. “What happened to all that spunk you always had after hours of working?”

“It’s just not the same anymore,” he replied, smiling. “I don’t feel like a student anymore. This is basically a profession. We’re on the end of eighteen.”

“Come on,” she said, but her hopes looked like they fell a little. If Jay was the most positive ninja, him being negative usually meant a real emergency. “Just because we’re a lot older doesn’t mean we have to be so serious all the time. We can work without the weight of people’s lives or possessions in our hands, and just have fun like we used to.”

“That’s much deeper advice than I signed up for, Nya,” he joked. “I’m just… tired.”

“We always are, but we gotta keep pushing,” she responded. She lowered her voice. “Especially because of old guy and old guy junior over there.”

They both laughed, glancing over to where Wu and Lloyd were working on moves.

“Think they’ll care if we just run and ditch the rest of the day?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah. We’ll be in trouble, big time,” Jay answered.

“What’s life without a little risk?”

“No, seriously. Let’s not.”

“Okay. Well in that case, let’s do what we have to!” she quickly kissed him on the cheek before jumping up and getting in a position with her weapon.

With renewed strength, Jay too jumped into action, facing her, ready.

The two worked like magic, in and out, back and forth. Fighting against each other was a rare thing for them now, that was sure. It was different from fighting alongside each other. They knew each other’s moves to well and rarely struck.

Scree hopped off the roof and flew away to hunt again.

    ~

After the clay had been heated, hardened, cooled, carved, and all the works, the gold had been poured and set out to cool the same, twice. Rhon slid the second golden half from the cast, handing it to Jay for him to ink in some black designs.

“Can’t believe you’re really growing up, buddy,” she commented as he focused on the intricate patterns.

“Don’t be nice, it’s creepy,” Jay said, but smiled. He put the inking instrument down and smiled as he looked at the two halves. He picked them both up in his hands, studying them as if he were an archaeologist studying an artifact. They were precious to him.

He looked up. “Thanks to the ends of Ninjago, aunt Rhon,” he said slightly nervously. “I’m actually really glad I was able to think of things and you know. Make it myself.”

“It’s all gotta be from the heart,” she pointed to her chest.

Scree soared in through a window and greeted Rhon with a nuzzle after landing on her shoulder. She patted his head.

“Now get outta here, kid. Show her how much she means to ya.”

#ninjago #fanfic #fanfiction #jay #nya #rhon #scree #ocs #oc

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 14.19: “Jack in the Box”

THEN: Eh, you know all this. Oh, wait, here's something interesting - a reminder that Naomi was overcome by the Empty slime. Which reminds me of my theory that Naomi and/or Duma might actually be the Empty Entity. Hmmm. Oh, and also, all the Jack stuff.

NOW: There's a bunch of hunters in the bunker, drining beer and looking at pictures of Mary and her stuff on the map table. Including the picture Sam burned. Well, I'm glad it wasn't the only copy. And whatever these rings and calipers are that are always on the map table, apparently they're permanent, because they weren't removed for this little memorial display. Also, John's journal is part of the display, and I know they gave it to Mary to read, but still, it's John's. This bothers me.

So, are these surviving AU hunters? If not, that means the Winchesters have opened the bunker up to every hunter they know (and revealed its location to everyone they know), which is... not what I would have done. TFW makes an entrance (why were they not in there with their guests) and Dean thanks them for coming and makes a little speech but I'm finding it real hard to concentrate on Dean right now because LOOK AT SAM'S SHIRT. LOOK AT IT. It's CLOSE-FITTING and it's NOT PLAID and whatever awful things this episode does (and my completely unspoiled prediction is that IT WILL DO AWFUL THINGS), we at least got this.

I strongly suspect this is actually Jared's shirt.

Dean informs the gathered that they missed the pyre, sorry. And he mentions that some of them fought Michael with her in the other world so they ARE AU hunters! Or at least some of them! Well, that's good to know. Sam doesn't have to feel personally responsible for killing everyone who came over, just a handful. Including the only one who had a name, and probably that guy who called him Chief (sob), but some of them remain. Anyway. Dean gives his eulogy (and Sam's not the only worth a second look in this scene, because Dean looks pretty amazing as well) and they drink beer and then an AXE FLIES IN OUT OF NOWHERE, SLOWLY AND AWKWARDLY SPIRALING INTO A HUNTER'S HEAD. People seem surprised, but it's the mild kind of surprise you'd get if he threw his beer at somebody, not if an axe suddenly appeared embedded in his head. The thrower of the axe walks in - it's New Bobby. WELL.

Title card! Bobby informs me that it was a hatchet, not an axe, and he wants it back. (Sidebar: It literally never occurred to me to think about the difference between a hatchet and an axe until earlier this week when I was listening to a murder podcast that specified someone was killed with one, not the other.) He also tell us that the "hunter" was actually a wraith "from a nest your mom and I busted up" and SEE, GUYS? This is why you don't invite people to the bunker. Now a bunch of wraiths probably know where it is. And we know the warding is a joke. Cas thinks Mary would have appreciated a monster at her memorial. I don't think Cas knows Mary very well but whatever.

Bobby asks Sam how he and "the other one" are doing, and we watch Dean pack up Mary's belongings (including John's journal? that's going away?) and Sam says he "seems to be doing okay" which is, of course, how they operate. No one asks how Bobby's doing, even though he had a relationship with Mary too (and over the course of her life probably spent as much time with her as Sam did, when you come right down to it), but Bobby says he's not into public displays of grief anyway, and Dean is probably the same (which is true, except for when it's very very not true).

Sam suggests they drink the scotch Ketch left (and I wonder if this means Ketch came for the memorial, and left some scotch, or if he's referring to a bottle from a previous season that somehow remained through all those events that really would have called for some serious scotch-drinking) and talk about Mom. Dean points out that they have been talking about Mom and stalks out and leaves Sam sad.

Sam and Bobby and Cas settle for beer instead, and Dean walks in just as Bobby asks "what exactly happened to her, cause I'm hearing, the kid." Oh, that's interesting that they wouldn't have given him the whole story. Or maybe it's not. Maybe it makes sense that they'd keep things vague, tell everyone she "died on a hunt." Dean needs a drink, but not in the bunker. Sam tells him they need to talk about Jack, and he says "we will" and quickly makes his escape. Bobby and Cas have this funny exchange.

I liked the kid. We fought together. But there's only way this ends.

Bobby's right. We have to find Jack and help him.

What?

Hee! Cas feels Jack might not realize what he did was wrong, and Bobby astutely points out that if he didn't realize it was wrong, that's kind of a big problem, because if Kelly's influence has been burned away, that means Lucifer is all that's left. Bobby means to hunt him down. "An unstoppable monster who don't know right from wrong gets put down." Um, Bobby, let's consider the unstoppable part of that declaration. (Also, should someone point out to Bobby that Jack accidentally killed someone even back when he did have a soul? Probably not.)

Cut to Jack, who is still? again? at an abandoned warehouse or factory or something. He's remembering what he did, and wishing his mother was there to tell him what to do. Oh, she's not here, but Hallucidad is. He tells Jack that the Winchesters don't care about him, he was just a pet and a weapon, and again, it hurts knowing that this is Jack's subconscious saying these things. Jack thinks he can explain and apologize, and if that's so, Jack, then why didn't you do that when they caught you raising Mary's not-corpse? No, says Hallucifer, they hate you.

Cut to Dean, sitting outside somewhere in the dark, crying.

This is not okay. I mean, it is, but it's not.

Heaven. (yawn.) Cas again tells Duma that he wants to see Naomi, and again she denies him. It turns out Naomi is in "a very small cell" because Heaven was invaded under her watch. I didn't think they had enough spare angels around to lock one up just because they don't think she's a good leader. She might be a great follower. (Yeah, probably not.) Cas tells her he needs help looking for Jack, who has burned through his soul and is no longer being protected by the Winchesters. Hmmm, she says, this is very useful information to have. Internally. Out loud, she tells Cas she'll see what she can do, which he of course takes as an offer to help. Oh, Cas.

Bunker. Sam's working at his computer when Dean comes back. Sam's wearing a different shirt. I don't know if that means it's the next day, or just that he changed out of his nice funeral shirt. He asks Dean how he's doing, but Dean ignores that and asks what Sam's doing.

Trying to find Jack. We've gotta find him before Bobby and his crew, because if they find him first -

He's gonna kill them all.

... I don't know.

Oh, Sam, you DO know. You are obviously concerned about Bobby et al killing Jack, not the other way around. And it breaks my heart. Sam also wants to talk about Mary and the fact that they don't have to rely on faith to know Mary's in Heaven, because they personally know Heaven and angels are real. Dicks, but real. He says Mary's in a great place, with John, because again we're forgetting or denying what we know about Heaven. Dean, the eternal ray of sunshine, points out that there wasn't enough of Mary left to bring back to life even if they wanted to.

Back to Jack, who has a surprise visitor. It's Duma! Oh, cool, she's helping Cas find him, just like she said she would! Ha ha ha nope. (Sidebar: How did Duma find him, and why doesn't Cas have the same ability? Discuss.) He remembers her from his trip to Heaven that one time he died. She tells him Mary's death wasn't his fault, and he deserves redemption after his mistake, because he has "a glorious destiny." She tells him Heaven has fallen apart since God left, and no one gives them the respect they deserve, but Jack, YOU can save Heaven and make the world better and wouldn't that make Sam and Dean happy? Their first stop on the Make The World Better Tour is to turn a famous God denier into a pillar of salt. Oh, irony. (Also, he's safe from ghosts now, so. Bonus?)

Bunker. Cas is telling the Winchesters that Heaven promised to "make every effort" to find Jack. Which 1) isn't exactly what we saw happening, unless you're naive enough to think "I'll see what I can do" means "I'll make every effort", and b) even if that is what Duma said, as Dean points out, "Oh, Heaven promised? Great, well we should take that to the bank." But Cas thinks Heaven has as much reason to want to find Jack as they do. Which is true. But doesn't mean they're going to turn him over to you, Cassie.

Coincidentally, Sam has just read about Professor Pillar of Salt. "Why does that sound familiar?" Dean asks. You know, I don't know the Bible very well. If a particular event didn't show up in "Jesus Christ Superstar" or "The Ten Commandments," I'm not likely to be familiar with it. And yet I know about Lot's wife turning into a pillar of salt. And I've never been to Heaven or met an angel. So.

Cas explains the story and says no ordinary angel could turn a human into salt. Sam reads another story about a dishonest televangelist (yeah, I know, that's redundant) who had a crevice open in the ground under her and swallow her up, and again Dean's not familiar with the story, but this time I'm not either. But Cas knows it's from the book of Numbers. Allegedly, only Jack or Chuck himself could perform these acts.

Heaven. Duma tells Jack he's doing excellent work, and he can help bring Heaven back to its previous glory.

Sam and Dean will like that?

Words can't begin to express how Sam and Dean will feel.

Hee!

So let's talk about what's going on here. I appreciate that they're framing this as Jack trying to get back into Sam and Dean's good graces. In fact, I'm a little hopeful at this point. If Jack-who-is-being-used-by-Heaven is the Big Bad, doesn't that mean stopping the Big Bad could just mean they rescue him from Duma's manipulation? Maybe? (Yeah, I know. But a girl can dream.)

Anyway. Duma's next task for Jack is to create more angels. She tells him he can't make them out of thin air, but if a human is "predisposed" to it, he might be able to forge them into an angel. Oooooh, this opens up some chilling possibilities about who could be turned into an angel. But it turns out he's not going after anybody named Winchester. He's just sitting on the throne "where your grandfather received prayers" (and where your father sat) and listening to prayers. (Sidebar: Why hasn't Sam tried to communicate with Jack by praying to him? Discuss.)

For whatever reason, he hones in on one particular group of worshippers who are about to discuss the book of Samuel (hee!) with Pastor Ames. Jack zaps into the room, asks if they meant it when they said they wanted to go to Heaven, and shows them his wings. Sold! Pastor Ames missing that demonstration, so when he comes in and calls Jack a liar, Jack hits him with another Biblical curse: "he was eaten by worms and breathed his last." Pastor Ames falls to the ground with worms popping out of him everywhere, and Jack and his future angels disappear.

Hospital. Guys, look at the suits! Have they ever worn such narrow pants? What is going on here? Someone new in the wardrobe department?

Mama like.

Agents Kilmister, Clark, and Taylor (hee) are visiting bandaged-up Pastor Ames, who identifies a photo of Jack. They leave, and Cas recites the relevant verse and Sam says, surprised, "so you think this is another Bible thing?" AS IF THAT WASN'T WHY THEY'RE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE, and as they leave, we see that Pastor Ames is not over his worm infestation after all.

Back at the bunker, Dean tells Sam that he didn't want it to come to this, but they have no choice. Come to what? What's behind the door in room 5B? It's the thing we all knew was coming - the box! (And if you didn't see it coming, the title of this episode clearly gave it away, which is why I consider titles of unaired episodes to be spoilers.) Sam, who is clearly not behind this plan in any way shape or form, points out that they don't have the ability to force Jack into the box, and he won't go in there of his own free will.

But he might. He might if he only has to stay in there long enough for us to finish the spell to fix his soul.

Spell? What spell? There is no spell.

*We* know that.

Oh, no, this is not good, and Sam already hates it.

... So, you want to lie to him.

No, I mean, I *want* Zeppelin to get back together. But what I *need*, what *we* need, is to stop Jack. Big difference. But here's the deal; we both gotta sign off on it. This might be our only shot, and if he even catches a whiff that this is a scam, he's off into the wind.

Exactly. Now, how do you think he's not gonna know something's up?

Because you're gonna be so damn sincere -

Me? Why me?

Because you've always been in his corner. You're his go-to guy. Sam, if you reach out, he'll come. If I do it, after what happened to Mom, I could lose him. I *will* lose him.

Oh no, no, no, Sam is SO not on board with this plan. Because the worst thing that could happen is that it doesn't work, and the second worst thing is that it does work. Dean is so calmly insistent, and Sam is so unhappy, and his FACE when Dean tells him HE will be sincere is just killing me, and no matter what I think about this episode or or this entire story arc, I love what the guys are doing with this scene.

Maybe it's just me, but I'm finding a silver lining here.

Sam sits down at the library table and begins praying to Jack, which doesn't answer my question of why they haven't already tried communicating with him that way. In fact, it makes me ask it harder. He tells him that they're family, and bad things happen in families but they want to get through it, they want to be like they were before. Jack hears Sam's prayer as he assembles his future angels. Meanwhile, Cas has barged his way into Heaven to rescue Jack, having figured out that Heaven has no mercy and angels do bad things, and Cas? How is this POSSIBLY news to you? Duma threatens to end Mary and John's happy little afterlife together (Is this confirmation that they really are sharing a Heaven, even though his name isn't on the door? Maybe. Do I accept it? Not necessarily) so Cas stabs her. Well. We're down to, what, ten angels now? He calls for Jack, but Jack's already gone, having just appeared in the bunker.

Jack tells Sam and Dean he's been working with Heaven, and "if it helps, I regret it... the accident."

Again, the guys do a beautiful job with this scene. Even if it's an awful, awful scene, they're acting the hell out of it. Sam is as anxious as he was when he was trapped in a cell with Jack the day he was born, the way his hands twitch when he gets up from the table and circles behind Dean, and then carefully places himself between Dean and Jack, and how he physically reacts when Jack steps closer, and they're both keeping their distance and moving so carefully, and then there's the way Dean is practically unblinking and is very obviously working SO HARD not to spontaneously combust, staying practically motionless and keeping his voice even, although anyone could tell he's absolutely BOILING under the surface from the look on his face and his tone of voice every time he says the accident. All of this is amazing.

But yeah, it is also an awful scene. Because Jack isn't guilty or apologetic at all. He's actually kind of smug about working with Heaven and making angels, and very condescending about regretting "the accident," and I just don't think he would be there. I think he would tell them how sorry he was, and that he tried to fix it, and basically everything he said to Hallucifer. He wouldn't say "I knew you'd understand" when they tell him they forgive him. His blind self-assurance would make sense if it came at the end of a 2- or 3-episode arc, where Duma had spent more than a day telling him how awesome he was. So while I love Sam and Dean in this scene, love them to pieces, Jack is just... ugh. Beyond OOC. Moving on. Dean tells Jack they're working on a way to fix his soul, and they want to keep him safe (from having another ACCIDENT) in the meanwhile. Sam oh-so-tentatively puts a hand on Jack's shoulder and dear GOD he is so afraid and I LOVE IT.

Again, quite a silver lining to this dark little raincloud.

They take him to the room with the magic box, which Dean claims is "actually pretty comfortable." Dean stays still and Sam fidgets and Jack says "okay" and climbs into the box. "How long before I can come out?" he asks. Sam is more and more fidgety as he says "not too long," and Dean is like stretched rubber band about to snap as he holds himself back from slamming the lid down. "Jack, we got this," Sam lies. "Okay," Jack says again, and he lies down and they didn't even put a pillow in the damn box, why does he think this is okay, why does he think they're working in his best interest if they didn't even give him a damn pillow? Dean shuts the lid and rushes to close the locks and Sam hates this, hates it so much.

Shhh. Don't even listen. Just turn the sound down and enjoy the pretty, pretty angst.

Alone in the box, Jack calls to the Winchesters, but they're already shutting the door to room 5B. They move to the kitchen to finish off Ketch's scotch and talk about the future.

So what do we do now? Just go on, with Jack locked up in there forever?

We have to.

I don't know if I can do that.

Dean ignores Sam's shaky voice and decides to talk about the scotch and sure, we all recognize this is Dean's way of coping. Pretend it's not happening, pretend it doesn't bother him. Because I have to think that, no matter how much he wants revenge against Jack, he understands that being locked in that box forever is still a horrible fate. (A fate Dean was willing to accept, but still.) Sam, meanwhile, needs to talk, just like he needed to talk about Mary.

You know, I never thought it would end like this, with Jack.

Sammy, we knew from the beginning it was a long shot with him.

Yeah. Yeah. But, long shots are kind of our thing.

So let's talk about Sam's guilt. His beautiful, beautiful guilt. Not only over tricking someone he loves into being locked up in a box forever, but for bringing Jack into their lives in the first place. And yet. Jack has always been unstoppable, hasn't he? So if Sam hadn't opened his humongous heart and taken him in, he would have been out there alone. No one teaching him how to use and control his powers, no one keeping him away from Lucifer. He would have been an unstoppable enemy instead of an unpredictable ally. Sam did the right thing, even though it ended bad. Because it was always going to end bad.

Have I mentioned that I could watch an entire episode that was just Dean drinking?

Back in room 5B, Jack's starting to panic, and still calling for Sam and Dean. They don't show up, but Hallucifer does (oh god, I want to see Sam find out he basically locked Jack in that box with Lucifer) and informs Jack he's been played.

In the kitchen, Cas arrives with the news that Duma has been manipulating Jack, and they really need to find him. The guys are all, oh, whoops, forgot to call you, he's here, locked in the box.

Jack gets glowy eyes and tries to break out of the box, but nothing happens.

Cas is horrified that the guys still plan to keep Jack in the box, even knowing his latest acts were due to being manipulated. Sam says "That's the problem. If he's that easily manipulated, he's too dangerous to be out of the box." Oh, no he doesn't. Instead, Dean says "He agreed to it." Yes, in much the same way Sam agreed to be Gadreel's vessel. You keep telling yourself that, Dean. In fact, Dean is trying to claim that deep down, Jack knows it's best. Oh, no, no you don't. Cas points out that Dean manipulated Jack as much as Duma did.

(Sidebar: I'm convinced that Sam would be able to forgive Jack. Because of his endless capacity for forgiveness, and because he sees himself as being in Jack's shoes at a different point in his life. Dean, on the other hand, would not. Because Dean is a normal human being when it comes to forgiveness, and because Dean puts loyalty to family above everything else.)

Box. Jack tries harder. Lucifer laughs. The box glows.

Kitchen. The arguing is interrupted by an earth-shattering kaboom. Things fall off shelves. The red emergency lights and klaxon come on. TFW leaps up and runs to room 5B. The room is a smoke-filled wreck and a figure with glowing gold eyes is walking out of the red-tinged smoke. "Jack," Sam gasps.

Duh duh duuuuuhhhh! Next week, Cas makes Dean write I knew a nephilim was more powerful than its angel parent but I assumed the box would be stronger than Jack anyway 100 times on the blackboard.

Okay, the bad happened, as we all figured it would. But let's talk about the good. Jack's not locked in the box forever. That's a relief - it would have been a very unsatisfactory conclusion. And the guys looked extraordinary. And there was so much emotion, both the tightly-controlled type, and the worn-on-his-sleeve type, and I love them both. Honestly, considering what happened in this one, and who wrote it, it was a lot better than I expected. A lot better than it could have been. (Will I go read your reactions now and see that every single one of you disagrees with me? Quite possibly.)

Next week is the next-to-last "Carry On Wayward Son."

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

#spn #tv recaps #recap #14.19 #spoilers

[kwrittink]

Dark Side of the Sun

Pairing: Captain!Jung Hoseok x Waitress!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Language, harassment, mild violence, a little of roleplay(?), semi(?)-public sex, unprotected sex, Captain Hoseok

Words: 3,911 

a/n: I warned you, @httpnamu

SinList

You had never been afraid of the darkness, not after seeing how the sun also had its dark side.  

"Do we have a problem here?" His voice made its way to your ears, and suddenly your knees knew no strength. The deep hidden violence and danger in his tone went unnoticed to this stupid asshole that was still holding your arm with a strong grip, even over your demands to let you go.  

"Mind ya own business boy, before I whack yo face-" His long fingers wrapped around the man's throat swiftly, pushing him with a strength he didn't look to possess till your aggressor's body was pressed against the wall, eyes burning hot as he glared. The whole bar where the scene was set stopped, not having bothered before, when only a random woman was being clearly harassed. 

"I was speaking to the lady, I'm afraid." Freed, you rubbed at your arm as it throbbed painfully and sighed. I'm going to get bruises from this. Not bothering to look up, you knew his eyes were on you, solely by the heat of his stare, your savior's attention all on you. "I should cut his hands off for even laying a finger on you." The softness of his voice didn't eased the wrath of his words, and it made your whole body quiver, more so when his hands mentioned reaching your aching skin, having let the other male run away after realizing his mistake and who he had tried to threaten exactly. 

"You shouldn't have bothered, Sir. This happens all the time, and I know how to take care of myself." Your speech could have been harsh, wasn't for the slight waver of your voice as you looked up at him, and saw how his eyes squinted, catching up with your lies. His lips quirked slightly with the hesitancy of saying something, but a throat clearing beside you made his eyes snap up. 

"That is very much true Sir Jung, Y/N is very capable of handling those kind of men, right?" The condescending pat in your back was a clear warning to not cause more trouble. You, of all people. Scoffing softly - enough to not be heard by the shack's owner but not imperceptible to the other young man - you did a small measure, making your way back to the kitchen - your initial destiny, to get back to serving people like you were paid to do. As much as I'd like to stay and greet him properly. 

"That guy had been staring at you for the past hour, did you offend him or something?" One of the other maids pulled you aside for a moment, hiding behind a wooden column to whisper. You sighed, well aware of the man she was talking about. Is he not going to leave? Rolling your eyes you peeked around the corner, meeting his hot gaze back at you, even in between the huge amount of people. A shiver rolled down your spine. It had been long, after all.  

"Oh him. Pay no mind to the man, saved me earlier, must thing I owe him a thanks." You waved dismissively, prompting a laugh from the other woman. You at the other hand pressed your lips in a tight line while still staring at him, that only lifted his eyebrows at you and motioned to his empty cup discreetly, amusement glinting on his eyes. Cocky fucker. Snorting you nodded back, turning to order another mug for him. He's been drinking rather slowly though. I wonder why he's here and not resting... Looks like he just set foot on land. 

You observed, eyes raking his figure by far, tanned skin looking slightly sweaty by the heat of the place itself, dark hair swiped back as his captain hat rested on the table, over the dark green coat of his uniform, leaving him on the light undershirt he always wore, rough brown leather pants and black sailing boots. It was a sight, and you were glad to see him like that, wearing the sweat of his position.  

"A cold one for the good sir." You cocked your hip to the side after placing the drink in front of him. His eyes never left your face, smile playing on his lips. 

"Thank you, beautiful." Started, straightening from his spread position to leaning on the table toward you, not missing the way your expression changes as you register the compliment. "Pray, does your shift ends soon tonight?" Asks, tilting his head. You breath in deeply, thinking how would you manage to slip away from the ogre you had as a boss earlier without blowing your cover to anyone, very interested on the silent promises on his eyes. At the same time, you wanted the man to work a little harder to earn it.  

"Same as every night," You shrugged, not minding the scoff thrown your way. "But having a good reason..." You trailed off, relishing on the sight of the captain's smile stretching on his lips. 

"I might give you a good reason if you're interested, beautiful." His eyes raked your figure appreciatively, prompting another shudder to roll down your spine. "As you might notice I just came back from the sea, and was looking for something... Someone to help me rest." Muttering deeply, his voice was making your body buzz, more so as your eyes glanced away from his face and followed curious fingertips that came to pinch the fabric of your skirt. Gritting your teeth, you tried to remain calm and collected, but at the same time the need to crouch at his feet was great, weak knees not helping your case. 

Trying to look unimpressed, you snapped your eyes back to his, watching as he licked at the corner of his lips. "The pension at the other side of the street's a penny, two when you're looking for the kinda company ya wish for." Grinning, you twirled away ready to leave and let him plan his tactics better for another try. He's a captain, ain't he? Must work on the strategy.

Yet it seemed the man in question wasn't in the mood for playing so much, and as you give no more than two steps away from his table, the chair scratches against the wood floor loudly, and with short strides you can feel his presence behind you, goosebumps crawling on your skin. 

Differently from the scumbag from earlier, he only touches your hand to halt your movements, a light chuckle passing his lips. "It's a good proposition dear, but I was looking for something more... Refined perhaps." Says, as you twist around, steadying yourself on the table nearby. Your heart was beating erratically and his proximity was enough to bring out the yearning you had to finally touch, kiss, feel him under your fingertips. It's been too long.

However, your eyes divert ever so slightly to notice the earlier round figure of the owner of that flimsy bar stepping heavily in your direction. Closing your eyes, you wait for the interruption, wanting nothing more to stick your foot between his legs. "The woman bothering you, kind sir? I told them to avoid showing kindness and gratefulness to the higher lords in vulgar manner, but some don't seem to be listen-"

"What are you saying about my woman exactly?" Snapping suddenly the captain looked to the side slowly, the loud inquiry making people nearby turn to the source once again just like earlier, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. There goes another job.

"Pardon Sir Jung, I thought the attentions of this simple waitress were unwanted, didn't mean to bother."

"You don't seem to know who you've been talking to, old man." He scoff and you roll your eyes. There he goes again. "This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Not any maid to be belittled. Not that any woman should be, but what exactly do a loggerhead like you know right?" He's so close to the male you can see big beads of sweat forming on the sides of his forehead. Even with his lean figure, Hoseok towers over the rude man with eyes that glint with a hidden violence, as the other tries to mumble some excuse. 

"Hoseok, let's just leave. I'm finished here anyways, ain't I?" You glance to the owner with a warm smile while reaching to touch the captain's arm softly. The owner nods nervously without even moving his eyes from the threatening authority, and you break out in a small chuckle. Composing himself, Hoseok leaned away from the bar's owner and guided your hand lower to hold his, a small nod before he let himself be guided, picking his stuff on the way out. Still, you weren't done with him yet. 

As you two rounded the corner, you pulled him inside the nearby alley and pursed your lips as his small yelp. It was funny that his guard was so down when alone with you, but you wanted to seem angry at him. 

"Great Hoseok, satisfied? Now will be impossible to get any job in this town. How exactly do you expect me to distract myself when I'm not around? Embroidery?" You crossed your arms over your chest. The rich chortle that left your lover's lips was enough to warm your heart, but you still maintain your annoyed facade as he steps closer, holding your arms softly.  

"That you get bored when I'm not around, that much I understand. But to apply at a waitress job... Isn't it too much?" His eyes fall to the cleavage of your corset - apparently having boobs pushed together was a grand way of advertising these days - and you quirked an eyebrow at him, smirk breaking on your lips.  

"You left me no choice in this town, mister. Still," You leaned forward to hug his waist, body pressing to his. "Can't you just admit all this it's because your mind have been wandering dangerous places all afternoon?" You tilted your head to the side as he let himself be pushed to the nearby wall. Hoseok's hips pushed forth, giving you the exact dimension on how your current attire was affecting him, groan rumbling low on his chest. Still, the smile he displayed was all but deceiving as his hands clutched your waist tighter.  

"You know me so well, love." Leaning, he pressed a kiss on the corner of your mouth, softly trailing down to your neck. 

"Of course I do, why do you think I brought you here?" Your whispered response made him halt his movements, lips hovering under your ear. You knew that little secret of his, the hidden wanting that came with the knowledge of being such a public figure in that land. Sure, both of you were the best known secret of that piece of land, and at least now - you were pretty sure after Hoseok's little stunt earlier made sure of that - everybody knew how the Captain's Jung Hoseok girlfriend looked like, and that only added to the fire of the undisclosed desire in his heart.  

Being so easily recognizable and still wanting to live the thrill of having me here out in the open like desperate teenagers.. 

You waited till he got up enough to look into your eyes, bewilderment written on his face as he accessed the seriousness of your words cut short by a gasp that your hand caused as you cupped him over the leather pants of his uniform. Hoseok's palm covered yours, not pushing you away but pressing harder where he needed it the most, and you can't recall a time when he was this stiff against your hand. Of course he's always stiff like a mast every time, but surely he feels about to burst. 

"Are you sure about this dear?" His other hand came to touch your face with delicacy, lips gaping as his eyes searched yours. Your smile widened and you nodded without hesitation.  

"I'd let you fuck me on top any table of that dirty bar if the owner was at least deserving of the show." At that his eyes darkened, fingers trailing upwards to sink in your hair, and he took only another second to look at your face before leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing hot kiss, need overflowing clearly in his tight clutch of you.  

Keening softly against his lips, your hands slid up to tangle on the hairs at his nape and tug softly, nails then raking a path around the neck and down, undoing the buttons of his shirt as his mouth worked on mauling yours, the bruising pace of his lips and your ragged breaths echoing through the dark alley.  

As your hands sprawled over his naked chest and relished on the softness of his skin - only interrupted by some scars, the brand of his profession - he got a little impatient, perhaps even frantic while tugging at the ties of your vest and just decided to rip it open with a grunt, coaxing a surprised yelp to leave your lips, followed by a gasp with the feeling of Hoseok's hands grasping at your breasts, pinching your nipples. Throwing your head back to breathe in, the captain resumed his attacks by attaching his lips on your neck, nipping and sucking bruises.  

The heat between your legs was insufferable, but you had to taste him, craving for all of him, welcoming the way he deserved it. The push you gave Hoseok to make him lean back to the wall he was previous in was a little clumsy and made him look at you surprised, only to then bite his lower lip to hold a loud gasp as you knelt down in front of him, desperately clawing at your lover's pants, lips pressing kisses to the very notorious hard length covered by his pants.  

"Mmh, seems like my girl missed me down her throat, huh?" As you managed to free him, your pace slowed down a little bit, deciding to take your sweet time lathering his throbbing cock before teasing his wet tip with your lips and looking up to see his stomach twitching. "So beautiful like this fuck, all exposed to anyone that pays a little close attention to this alley-"  

Hoseok groaned satisfied as you took him in your mouth, sliding slowly back and forth in a teasing manner, the hand that lodged itself on your hair tightening its hold every time you slid up to his head and sucked with a little more pressure, just the way he liked it. Glancing up you saw how his head was thrown back against the wall and wanted to smile as you were the reason such blissful expression was on his face. Still, you wanted him to lose that little control holding Hoseok back to do whatever he wanted to you, so you took him in as far as you could, and still looking up you moaned around his cock, hands coming to hold your boobs and pinch your nipples.  

The reaction was immediate, having him thrust deeper as a reflex, blown out eyes zeroing on your face as the other hand came to twirl in your locks, watching you choke slightly as you repeated the movement, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.  

"Look at you, wanting to have your little mouth fucked - fuck - so filthy just for me always... I'll raw your throat love, just the way you like it." Finishing off with something very close to a growl that resonating through the alley he pulled out, having a good grip of your hair before sinking back in and hitting the back of your throat, triggering your gag. The sound was so arousing to you than to him, more yet as Hoseok gasped deeply in unison.  

Keeping his promise, the captain indeed face-fucked you for as long as he managed, but the sight of you at that point - drooling while having your mouth stuffed with his cock and tits out in the open, for anyone to see - was threatening to shoot him into an orgasm soon, which apparently he rather not have then in your mouth, pulling out with a sigh while tightening his hold around his base and holding off his impending release.  

"C'mon, get up. I want to fill your cunt, beautiful." Helping you stand up he pulled to kiss you roughly while you moaned weakly against his mouth, before being manhandled to face the wall, skirt being bunched up and thrown over your hips, exposing your bare ass to his sight.  

"Fuck Hos-" You whined, covering your mouth immediately as his fingers prodded at your pussy, humming appreciatively over finding your folds dripping wet.  

"I was worried that you wouldn't be ready for me, how silly... You're always ready, right Y/N?" 

"Ye-yes, I'm always ready to serve my captain fuck" Punishment for your teasing came in the form Hoseok's cock thrusting in a single motion inside you, gasping as you clamped around him, begging for more of his dick.  

"So good, always s-so tight and warm," Whispered in a strained voice, squeezing a handful of your ass and prompting an airy moan to leave you, as he retreated and slid himself back inside. "Missed you, missed being inside of ya..." He trailed off with the same slow adjusting pace. It was driving you insane, but his grip on your hips was so strong you could barely move from being with your face pressed against the wall, hands clawing at the brick. 

"Fuck me harder Hoseok, please" At your desperate pleading he drew back completely, only the tip nudging at your folds teasingly, making you yelp as he tapped at your clit.  

"I don't know any Hoseok now, love" Demanded him with a deep grunt, keeping up with his teasing. You swallowed dryly at his command, knowing quite well his smug expression as he waited for you to beg him to fill you up. 

"Captain, I beg of you, please harder!" You obliged right away, appreciative hum coming from him afterwards, palms caressing your ass tenderly.  

"Now that's more like it," Yet the captain didn't thrust back right away, relishing on the way your legs shook with need. "Turn back around first, I want to see your face" Ordered, this time using more delicacy while helping you twirl on your feet, pressing his lips instantly to yours. You helped him bunch your skirt back up, leaning your back against the wall and hooking a leg around his waist, pulling him closer with his heel, which prompted Hoseok to chuckle as he guided himself inside of you blindly, hiss a telltale of the pleasure he felt to be buried between your soaked folds. 

 Starting a relentless pace immediately, he knocked the air out of your lungs with ferocity of his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping skin and hitched breathing filling the alley as Hoseok's forehead pressed against yours, eyes boring into your soul while he grunted and muttered small praise, one hand around your breast and the other supporting your waist. You could only curse with the overload of sensations, fingers digging on his shoulders as you held yourself to him. 

Despite what he said, the feeling of you clenching around him became too much and his face slid to bury on the crook of  your neck, where he started to hum in satisfaction with each hard thrust, nipping at your earlobe as a warning to keep your voice slightly down. Still, it was getting harder to maintain your tone even and you couldn't help the whimpers bubbling up your throat at the feeling of Hoseok repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, building an amazing orgasm. 

"My love, oh Hoseok I'm-" Your lips attach to his neck in a feeble attempt of muffling the scream that wanted to rip off your throat at the world rocking orgasm that crashed over you and coaxed a deep long moan from Hoseok, which with one last thrust deep inside of you emptied himself, painting your walls with his seed.

You stayed there standing for as long as it took for your breathing to even, both of your legs in mushy consistency to keep standing. Arms snaking to hug you fully Hoseok slid down, taking you with him and sitting you in his lap as he reached the floor with a sigh. 

"I guess this will last till the next time you come back, whatcha think, captain?" You teased as soon as you felt your voice wouldn't stagger, finger caressing softly over the single grand bruise you left on the base of his neck, lips pressing a soft kiss afterwards. Hoseok snickered, shaking his head. 

"I don't think so. I won't be traveling for a while." Said, and you broke out in a smile, the prospect of having him for a little longer than usual making you happy.

"Really? How long you'll be out?"

"Hm..." He breathed out, looking up to think. "Certainly until my next life, if not more." Eyes met yours again, small grin on the corner of his mouth, tiny dimple digging next to it. 

"How come... You've been dismissed?" Hoseok's fingertips came to caress the crease between your eyebrows. You wondered what might have happened for him to be removed from the marine, and who you would have to clock for being so stupid to put away a man and a captain like Jung Hoseok.

"Nah, I asked to leave, they begged me to stay. But I had achieved everything I wanted and had someone here that I'd rather stay near." 

Your eyes filled with tears as hearing that, happy to hear you'd have him closer to you everyday from now on. "That is, depending on your answer to my next question." As you looked up, you saw insecurity on his eyes, fear. Heart jumping to a fast pace again, you frowned in question and saw him swallow hard. 

"Y/N," Started, moving slightly underneath you to pick at his coat underneath him, and the sound of your name on his lips was just like a caress. "You've been so patient waiting for me all these years and relentlessly loving me, and I'd never be able to bring you something to show the dimension of my love but..." 

"Jung Hoseok, oh my fuck-" Yous hands came to silence your mouth and stop the curse midway, as he held up on his free hand a silver ring with the biggest green emerald you've ever laid your eyes on. Glancing back to his face you saw how his face brightened like the sun - like the only sun you've ever known - with a smile. 

"Would you marry me, Y/N?"

"Of fucking course I do! Yes, a million times yes!" You didn't even looked a second time to the jewelry - it didn't really matter anyways, even if it was pretty, only the symbolism of it was enough. Grabbing his face you crashed your lips to his and drowned his laughter, tears falling freely from your eyes. 

You've never think that you could love someone so much, not as much as you were consumed with your feelings for that man - even sitting on a dark, dirty alley, filthy clothes and all. But there you were, and it was worth every minute of his previous absence to have him forever with you.

#jung hoseok #jhope smut #jhope fluff #jhope x reader #jhope x you #bts jhope #hoseok smut #hobi fluff #captain!jung hoseok #the dark side of the sun #tdsts #bts smut #bts x reader

[marvel-girl03]

Stuckony Fic Recs Part One

Just Far Enough

Tony couldn’t honestly remember how long it had been like this. Probably since the day he’d called T’Challa and offered his help. At first it had just been compulsive self-denial: you can’t eat until you’ve drafted your opening remarks, until you’ve finished your research, until you’ve rewritten every last colon and comma and apostrophe in those Accords so that everyone can come home.

Those goals had been realistic. Lately, they’d become impossible. Until everyone forgives you. Until you forgive yourself. Until you make up for every bad thing you’ve ever caused.

He was fine. He was coasting in a dangerous place, but he was fine. He wasn't taking it too far - just far enough.

The thing is

Falling in love can be hard enough to deal with on its own. Falling in love when you are a recently-reintegrated superhero, who spent the past 70 years as a brainwashed HYDRA assassin, is a bit tricky. It gets trickier when the person you're in love with is a genius, billionaire, philanthropist, superhero. It's just messy when said person is Captain America's boyfriend.

But Bucky's handling things fine. He's fine.

Unexpected Gifting

Based on the Tumblr prompt: Character A is left as a tribute/human sacrifice to appease the legendary mythical creature. Character B is a would-be hero who arrives to try and save the day. Character C is the mythical creature who never asked for or wanted this tribute, and now has to figure out what to do with all these humans left at their doorstep.

Or in which humans keep invading Tony's territory and he is very confused.

Treasure (Me)

The present is there when Tony drags himself out of his workshop after another all-nighter, sitting on his breakfast bar, neatly wrapped and impossible to miss. Tony squints at it for a moment, suspicious, then shrugs, and wanders closer to pick it up.

Only If It’s Chaste

Tony ravaged his repertoire for a witty comeback, but the two kisses had shut his brain down. So instead he whirled, pretended to organize his tools and threw his head back haughtily. “Seriously? Are you two five-year-olds or something?”

“Says the man who is compared to a five-year-old on a weekly basis,” Bucky retorted.

“That is because I am young and full of vitality, unlike you ninety-year olds.”

Steve and Bucky chuckled.

Bucky walked up behind Tony and gave him one last peck on the cheek. “Whenever you’re in the mood for a little spring-winter romance let us know. We’ll be happy to indulge.”

Tony thought his brain had malfunctioned before, but that statement alone infected his brain like a deadly computer virus. So caught up in his disbelief and shock he missed Bucky and Steve’s departure. By the time he rebooted his brain, the two were gone and he was alone in the workshop.

“FRIDAY, what just happened?”

“I believe Sergeant Barnes, and by extension Captain Rogers, propositioned you, boss.”

Bruises and Drunken Heart Tattoos

Bucky forced himself to roll over and nuzzled his nose in the crook of Steve’s shoulder. “Steve,” his voice came out a whispery moan. “Get me some aspirin or Advil.”

Steve groaned and tried to shrug Bucky off of him.

Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist, refusing to let his boyfriend ignore his plight. “Too much to drink last night.”

“Me too,” Steve grumbled, twisting his head so his lips brushed Bucky’s forehead.

Bucky smiled, a contented warmth spreading through him at the simple gesture of affection.

His happiness was cut short by the sound of a glass being set on the nightstand.

Bucky’s eyes flew open and he shot up, ignoring his headache.

An older man in his thirties was standing over Bucky with a bottle of aspirin in one hand, and the fingers of his other hand still gripping the rim of the cup he’d set down on the nightstand. Amber eyes blinked at Bucky in mild surprise. The man’s lips curved into a teasing smirk.

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Like Rocks Under Tide

Taking a shuddering breath, Tony shuts off the alarm, puts the phone away to stall for another moment or two, and then finally gets up, and reaches for what he has—very aptly, in his humble opinion—named The Stick of Destiny lying on the edge of the sink. He fumbles with it, almost drops it twice before he manages to turn it right side up, and sees the two bright pink lines that mean he’s royally screwed. And not in the fun way.

“Shit,” Tony croaks.

Open Up the Door That’s Shut (We Make Our Own Luck)

After coming back from the war, Steve and Bucky open a diner together in Brooklyn. They're scraping by just trying to keep the business and each other together when Tony Stark stumbles through their front door.

Three’s Company (Or Is It?)

Tony Stark is not popular.

He was eccentric and a nerd and he liked it that way. He could invent and cause explosions and rock out to ACDC in peace. He had two awesome best friends for whenever he got lonely, anyway. But all of the aforementioned peace gets shot to hell when two of, if not the most popular guys in school start...fighting for his attention?

Maybe they can reach a compromise...

Cue madness, Tony thinking it's all a joke, Bucky and Steve being ridiculous, everyone else being done with their shit, and smut.

Minefields

Being in an abusive relationship was a bit like needing glasses. He didn't realize it until the damage was done.

Funny how people assume only men can be abusive.

{FYI, the last one is not Pepper friendly.}

#stuckony #steve rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark #fic recs #stuckony fic recs

[pomegranate-salad]

Pom’s Summer reads (as she was stuck in the hospital)

Hey guys ! Sorry I haven’t been around in a while. The reason is… I was back in the psych ward. Mental health is no fun. But this time around, I was so bored out of my mind that I actually took a look at the scarcely furnished, yet surprisingly eclectic hospital library. Which consisted of two shelves of donated books in various states of decay. But since beggars can’t be choosers, I went and started reading randomly selected books from this motley collection. And I thought it would be fun to make a reading list out of it to share my findings. I have terrible ideas.

 So, here’s what I read over the last two weeks :

- Mythologies by Roland Barthes

Genre : Essay – Philosophy

Length : average

Available in English : partially

 I had only read excerpts of this staple of cultural criticism before, so I thought it was high time I read the whole thing. This takes a look to the making of modern myths from a Marxist perspective, finding meaning in items as deceptively trivial as laundry detergent and haircuts in movies. This book consists of a first part made of a series of small commentaries, and a second part that takes a deeper look into the mechanisms and power of myth making. Some of the essays of the first part are not included in the English version of this book, presumably because the references studied were too “French” to speak to foreign readers. The references as a whole have aged (I had to google quite a few things, even as a French reader) but it speaks to the quality of the commentary that the thoughts expressed in this book are still relevant to our modern culture. You can probably find one of its most famous bits online, an essay about wrestling and the theatrical culture it illustrates.

This is an important and interesting book, but one that’s maybe a bit arid to read cover to cover : I found picking it up at intervals to read one essay or two was the best way to enjoy this book. You can of course also check out Barthes’ highly influential essay on the Death of the Author, but I also enjoyed his lesser-known essay The pleasure of the Text and his collection of Critical essays.

 - The Sand Child by Tahar Ben Jelloun

Genre : Novel

Length : average

Available in English : Yes

Content warning : explicit sexual content

 This was a weird, weird but pretty amazing one. Assuredly the best surprise of the lot. This starts off as a straightforward tale of a girl raised as a boy by a traditionalist father in modern Morocco as told by a storyteller on a marketplace, but it quickly devolves into several levels of metatextuality and dreamlike elements until story, characters and storyteller are interweaved into a reflexion about the nature of stories itself.

Aptly enough, this reminded most of Sandman, but also of Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon, both excellent things of which to remind someone. This is also the rare reflexion on gender roles and identity within the context of Islamic culture. But most of all, this is all written with a unique style, as if the author was drunk on language ; it’s a bit hard to get into, but it’s also captivating at the same time. Of all the books in this list, this is the one I would reread again and again just to try and understand all its levels. If you like this kind of surreal literature, definitely check this one out.

  - Oyster by John Biguenet

Genre : Novel

Length : average to long

Content warning : mild violence

 This was a frustrating one. It’s not a great book, yet it could have been one. This is yet another story of rivalry, secrets and revenge between two poor white families, this time living from oyster farming in Louisiana in the late fifties. The plot is fairly standard, and narrated in such a way that it constantly gets in the way of its dramatic potential. The writing is I think the problem here, especially around dialogue and plot progression, making the whole thing feel flat. Which is a shame because when the book lingers on details of the life of poor oyster farmers, it can be remarkably evocative.

This is the kind of book I want to put in a shaker and shake to put each element back where it belongs. I’m not difficult when it comes to Southern Gothic : I will basically read anything as long as it reminds me even a little bit of William Faulkner and Tennessee Williams. So it was frustrating to see this one being able to conjure its own atmosphere while not sticking the landing with its story. If you know of any good modern Southern Gothic novels, please send them my way, I’m hungry.

  - The ghost in the Noonday sun by Sid Fleischman

Genre : Novel

Length : short

 I have no idea how much of a staple of children’s literature this book is, so maybe all of you are already familiar with it. Personally, I hadn’t read it in quite a while since the version we have at home is now missing some key pages. But if by chance you haven’t read this, please go invest an hour of your life into reading this funny, witty and earnest pirate story about a teenager who gets kidnapped by a superstitious pirate who believes he’s able to see ghosts in order to locate the treasure of his old captain who was buried with it.

In a just world, there’d be a cult movie based on this book instead of one of dubious quality staring an erratic Peter Sellers. This is children’s literature of the best kind : one that takes its audience seriously, is able to create an atmosphere and is still a fun to reread as an adult. This was kind of super-nostalgic to me to pick this one, but I couldn’t resist.

  - The Awkward Squad by Sophie Hénaff (and its sequel Stick together)

Genre : Novel – Crime

Length : average

Available in English : Yes

 I had to have read at least one crime novel in this lot, but in the end I only read two, since the other options were Mary Higgins Clark books and since I have a grandmother, I had already read those. It’s a shame that French crime novels don’t have as much of an international reputation as Scandinavian or American ones, since we do have an interesting tradition of our own : books mainly based on ensemble casts of motley characters, with a poetic streak and a sensitivity to absurdism. The premise of this series is that in order to get better statistics, the new policer commissioner has decided to regroup all undesirable police officers they can’t fire in one single squad, and make sure this lame duck unit doesn’t attract any attention. But some people from this unit have of course decided otherwise.

These books held pretty well as far as crime novels go, they are a lot of fun at times and read easily. The character work and dialogue are definitely this series’ best asset, as it is the case with many French crime books. If you want the best the genre has to offer, check out my all-time favourite, the Adamsberg series from author Fred Vargas, in order : The Chalk Circle Man, Seeking whom he may devour, Have mercy on us all, and Wash this Blood clean from my Hand.

  - The Three-Arched Bridge by Ismail Kadaré

Genre : Novel

Length : short

Available in English : Yes

 This was hardly a surprise that I loved this one : I’ve been a fan of Kadaré for a while. This is yet another of his books that explores the frontiers of reality and legend, superstition and magic within a fascinating historical context. Here, his subject is the building of a bridge in Albania toward the end of the 14th century, as the Turkish invasion is looming. The narrator, a monk, relates both political and mundane events surrounding the isolated region, as increasingly troubling phenomenon surround the construction site, announcing the troubled future of the country.

I do love my historical/supernatural novels, and Kadaré is a master of the genre. This reads easily while making a lasting impression and leaving you hungry for more. If you do, I can’t recommend enough checking out more of Kadaré’s work, his classic The General of the Dead Army, and my personal favourites The Pyramid and The Ghost Rider.

 - The Pursuit of Happiness by Douglas Kennedy

Genre : Novel

Length : long

 I picked this one deep in my “I’m fucking sick of reading, but there’s still nothing else to do” phase, since I needed something that would be easy to read and at least somewhat good, and old Douglas did not disappoint : this book might be almost 800 pages long, it reads in a dedicated handful of hours. This is primarily the story of two women, one who just lost her mother and the other who appears in her life after the funeral, apparently knowing a lot about her family, to give her a manuscript retracing her story. The portrayal of the main characters is realistic, both are flawed individuals with distinct stories and personalities, so cheers to that.

This is the kind of familial saga-that’s-also-a-reflexion-on-destiny-and-the-American-dream you never get tired of until you do. Don’t let my snide deter you though : this is a very good book, maybe just not singular enough for its genre. If you’re looking for something more particular, you can of course check out Steinbeck’s East of Eden, the metric by which all American familial sagas are judged, and Roth’s American Pastoral, which contrary to what you may have heard, is a weird goddamn book.

 - Allah is not obliged by Ahmadou Kourouma

Genre : Novel

Length : average

Available in English : Yes

Content warning : extremely disturbing and graphic description of atrocities in wartime

 A first-person description of tribal wars in Liberia and Sierra Leone during the nineties from the point of view of a fictitious child soldier. It doesn’t pretend to stick by its premise though, and dives into detailed record of the political climate, all while taking us through the daily horrors of life in war-torn countries. The extremely down-to-earth and downright crude descriptions are interweaved with magic realism rooted in West African voodoo and culture.

This one was one of my favourites, despite the writing and narrative bordering on gimmicky at times ; especially at the end, where the story seems to have exhausted itself and seems more interested in recounting the political history of the region. The subject in and of itself is fascinating (and this is a great read if you’re not familiar with it) but sorts of impinges on the main storyline and the development of its characters.

Despite its flaws, I can only recommend this book, especially if you’re looking to delve into West African literature as this makes for a good introduction to the genre. Be aware however that this book is extremely hard to stomach and triggering in about every way possible. If you do like it, I recommend checking out my favourite book by this author, Waiting for the Wild Beasts to vote.

 - Hymns of Hate by Dorothy Parker

Genre : Poetry

Length : short

 I have a complicated relationship with poetry : as in, I am fond of it and some poetry books have come to mean a lot in my life, yet for some reason I never seem to be in the mood for picking one. So the reason this chapbook got picked is probably that your brain functions differently when the world around you is an ocean of noise and agitation due to a little event called the World Cup. Yes, even at the hospital, the French victory was dutifully celebrated, so this was the best time to isolate yourself with some earplugs and a poetry book.

Dorothy Parker is an acerbic poetess from the twenties who takes a comical and critical look at society, which leads to what I’d call comedy roast as poetry. It’s not the most moving kind of poetry, but it will make you laugh and reflect on yourself a bit, as I can guarantee you’ll recognize yourself in at least some of the vivid portraits this book draws. Of course, since I read it in French, it probably lost a lot of its musicality, which is the eternal dilemma when it comes to poetry : would I rather have something be lost in translation, or in reading in your non-native language ?

This kind of impertinent poetry, even if it doesn’t get as much press as big romantic oeuvres, is still a breath of fresh air that puts a smile on your face while still giving you an insight into the author’s personality. The only poet I can think of that produced the same effect on me is Jacques Prévert. I highly recommend checking out his two chapbooks Paroles and Stories.

- Six characters in search of an author by Luigi Pirandello

Genre : Play

Length : short

Available in English : Yes

 So before you say anything, I didn’t know he was a fascist before I picked this one. But you do now, so feel free not to read this one as a matter of principle. That being said, this is a very good play. This is the kind of hyper-conceptual play that interrogates the relationship between characters, writer and comedians. The story is exactly what it says in the title : six characters imagined by an author but who never got their play written tumble into a theatre as actors are repeating a play and ask them to write their play.

This play has stage directions for days and is a little bit hard to get a sense of when you read it instead of seeing it, yet once you get how the whole thing works, the ideas expressed are extremely interesting. This reminded me of Ionesco’s works, particularly The bald Soprano and the criminally underrated The Chairs. The theme of characters escaping the grasp of their authors can also be found in Paul Auster’s Man in the Dark which, while by no means one of the author’s best works, is still a fun and meditative read so don’t hesitate to check it out.

  - What money can’t buy, the moral limits of markets by Michael J. Sandel

Genre : Essay – Economy

Length : average

 I picked this one primarily because it was the only one in English, and also because I like to periodically remind myself why I left business school. I ended up having a good time reading it, because it’s more about thinking the market than explaining it. This book discusses the things that money can buy today – cutting in line, naming rights, stakes on someone’s life – and whether we should be alarmed of this growing market mentality. In the true tradition of English essays, this book makes its thesis clear at the beginning and then reiterates its point through examples. This is completely different from the French tradition of essays, which starts at the observable phenomenon and then takes us to its core thesis through organic reasoning. This means that past the introduction, you’ll know what this book is trying to prove, and the rest of the book is more about illustrating the demonstration. However, each set of examples come with their own ethical and practical problems, and you end up being more conflicted than you originally thought. A fiery onslaught against capitalism it is not, but this has the advantage of considering market mentality from the inside and then wondering how it looks from the outside. If nothing else, it should give you a good set of arguments to shut up libertarians and their ilk.

  So that’s all I have today. Do tell me if you want me to make more reading lists like this !

#reading list #should i make more of those ?

[inkofamethyst]

September 9, 2021

Today I’m thinking about how my tenth grade AP government and politics teacher told us that we’d all be terrible world leaders if our first step in foreign policy was always diplomacy.  I don’t have any commentary on that; I’m just thinking about it.

I saw a girl the other day spend $86 on groceries at the campus store.  She ain’t even buy all that much, it was just severely overpriced.  I hope pray that she finds out about the free bus that’ll take her to the discount grocery store nearby.

Man, I kinda hate being bloated.  Like, I don’t usually notice it, but I was wearing this bodysuit today and it definitely felt different.

Update: It was probably less so that I was bloated and more so that I wasn’t on a proper eating schedule.  Just because eating full meals 3x a day worked at one point doesn’t mean it works now, and it may work again in the future!  I had a 2-meal day today and feel much better.

I also wore one of my sewing creations out on campus for the first time ever today!!!  It’s the dark green top made from quilting cotton that I’d originally messed up the collar on.  I’d initially made it to emulate this picture, and I say I got pretty close.  The fit is quite boxy (it’s a unisex style), but I don’t mind.  I actually ran across my photo-friend briefly today (I hadn’t intended on seeing anyone I knew on the day I was wearing this, but it’s funny how both times that I’ve worn something out that I’ve made I end up running into a friend), but didn’t really give a second thought to the fact that the seams of my shirt were pinked instead of serged or that my buttonholes had some mild fraying going on.  I’ve been wearing quite a few button-downs lately, actually.  Sort of as a primer to when I switch over to skirts.

Speaking of skirts,,, I got my last payment from my internship, and I found this vintage-style skirt on Poshmark that’s originally $80 (I checked out the brand and this skirt is sold out everywhere) for $20 (...plus shipping), and I think I’m going to get it??  Another little treat to myself, yknow?  It reminds me of this really adorable skirt that Cat’s Costumery made ages ago and I always wanted to replicate it.  Also, it has pocketses!!!  Lol,, lemme scoop this thing up before someone else does real quick.

I also went to another jam club session today, but it was electric instruments allowed day and I decided to just enjoy other people playing.  It was really really cool and fun, and I got to sing along to a bunch of songs that I knew and also there was a ~reporter~ from the university’s main student newspaper there and I was ~interviewed~ (this is my third interview for a student newspaper here, but my first time for this main one!!) about my thoughts on the club, especially since I was new, so I might end up in the newspaper :D

I also saw a guy from that church group I left there.  Or, rather, he saw me.  We spoke briefly, he was amiable, as was I.

Also, I figure I’d note that I finished the Witcher book I was reading and I really liked it (Season of Storms)!!  I’m starting on Sword of Destiny next (actually I started last night lol) and god I love Geralt.  There’s something incredibly charming about his dry wit.  And, I mean, big strong dudes who are capable of being tender?  Yea sign me up for one a them hunks please and thank you.  I also adore his friendship with Dandelion.  I can’t wait to watch the Netflix show omg.  I haven’t even heard that theme song that got so much attention, but it’ll surely land its way onto my “instrumentals that make me go a lil feral” playlist.

Today I’m thankful for book translators, because I never would have been able to read about Geralt and his adventures without them.  Wack how I discovered the game from the music and recognized the title in a book store and now I’m here, three books into his life.

My puzzle-friend and I are making a “groovytime” playlist and like, it’s hard categorizing music.

[starbudspresents]

DGM225 - Translation Notes

It’s (finally) that time again! After six long months, we have a new chapter to chew on, and it’s more than half a dozen pages long. One could weep. :’P

I’d like to thank the StarBuds team for working so hard and so enthusiastically with me on this. You guys are my heroes. (@krorys​, @shinylyni, @togaochi, and our very welcome new friend @1000glaceons) Read the chapter HERE!

Now: if you’re so inclined, please venture below the cut for some notes on our translation choices and the inevitable untranslatable odds and ends.

☽ ☾

1.) As discussed in the last few chapters, the word I've been translating as "connection" here is 因縁 innen, which has a wide range of potential meanings: fate, destiny, tie, bond, connection, origin, pretext, justification, even the Buddhist concept of "hetu and prataya" (the direct causes and indirect conditions underlying each event). Some of those obviously don't work in context, but the rest were a tossup. I went with what I felt was the safest guess; if that connection turns out to be a destiny, I can clarify that later. :P

2.) I pondered Wisely's "voice" long and hard. He speaks in an old, humble sort of way, like everyone's mild-mannered grandpa. That serves as a reminder that his memories go back a much longer way than his apparent age would suggest. He is old in a way that very few characters in this are. (Road might be the only living match for him, if she is indeed still the first incarnation of the Dream memory, but that’s still no better than a guess.)

3.) So we have a glimpse of Bookman in captivity, presumably shortly before he made his escape, and the reveal that Bookman's escape was due to Wisely's actions in some way. Either Wisely did something that made the risks of an escape attempt worth it for Bookman, or he actually helped Bookman get free. Considering Wisely's nature, I've guessed that previous incarnations might have known the Bookmen, and possibly even this Bookman. If so, did he let a friend go out of sentimentality? Or did he just slip up and create an opportunity? Once again, every answer we get gives rise to five more questions.

4.) Then there's Wisely's annoyingly cryptic comment on Tyki's search for answers:   - ワタシから聞かずとも、ジョイド、おぬしはいずれ思い知るの。。。飲み込まれよう　そして引き摺られ - watashi kara kikazu tomo, Joido, onushi wa izure omoishiru no... nomikomare you, soshite hikizurare

More literally translated: Even if you don’t hear it from me, Joido, you’ll realize on your own... as if engulfed, then forcibly dragged.   So Tyki’s going to find out how he's connected to Nea whether he wants to or not, and knowing that is going to drag him off the course his life has taken so far, but to where? No idea. We only know that it will change things for him, somehow.

5.) The next couple of pages had me clutching my chest and wheezing hoarsely amid a tumult of complicated emotions. Mana's confused, desperate yearning! Nea's seemingly contradictory murderous love! All of... that. THAT. AUGH.

6.) Tyki accepts responsibility in part for the Earl getting away from him and Wisely and then finding his way to Nea. Since what's done is done, though, Tyki thinks maybe he can get some answers directly from the source, rather than from a tight-lipped (and now escaped) Bookman. So he extends the most fraught invitation to tea in the history of the world. I’m going to bet he didn’t ask anyone else’s opinion on that idea first because... uh.

7.) Wisely and the Earl head out, and meanwhile, Link hits Fiidora with half an arsenal of arcane techniques all at once. Fii-tan, understandably, cries uncle. He didn't attack Link out of malice, he just needed to get  the Earl free, and once that was done he had no beef remaining. He's... odd. Almost childlike, in an unsettling way. Very laid back, as Link noted. Naturally I love him.

8.) Speaking of Link, both of those spells were new!

"Needlebeak" is written 嘴針, an invented compound of the kanji for "beak" and "needle(s)", is read shibari, which is homophonous with the word for "binding," 縛り shibari. Good old Hoshino-sensei and her wordplay.

"Hundred-Feather Drill" is written 百羽錬成 (Hyappa Rensei), and is pretty literal. That's drill as in train, practice, rehearse, by the way; almost as if summoning a hundred feathers for a hundred different purposes was a practice technique he managed to weaponize. Wouldn't put it past him.

"The Hundredth: Deny" is a funny one. It's written 百式：禁 (Hyakushiki: Kin) but read Hakushiki: Kinji according to the furigana. The furigana reading is therefore very likely to be another play on words, but this one’s a bit beyond me, possibly.

 The kanji on their own mean "hundred," "formula/style/ceremony," and "ban/prohibition." I went with "Hundreth" instead of "Hundred Styles" because it's almost certainly part of the Hundred-Feather Drill, and shiki is an older adjective suffix. So, this is the hundredth feather of the drill, and its purpose is prohibition/rejection/denial. “Deny” sounded cooler than “prohibition” and was less easy to mistake for Japanese than “ban,” so.

As for the furigana reading of that final kanji (kinji rather than the correct kin): there are a number of possible meanings for kinji, including "approximation" (aka. "-ish"), "recent events" and "attendance (upon someone)."

With that in mind, it occurred to me that hakushiki, if heard aloud, would normally be assumed to mean "extensive/profound knowledge." Following that, the only meaning for kinji that makes sense is "recent events." Which leaves us with Extensive Knowledge: Recent Events no Jutsu. I can't guarantee this is definitely the joke she was making, but I chewed on it for easily two hours and this was the best I came up with. If any of you happen to know what reference she was making here, by all means let me know, haha.

9.) Aaaaaand there goes Nea, doing the most idiotically reckless thing he possibly could... unless he knows something about how Innocence works that the others don't. He doesn't seem all that worried that it's going to devour him and self-destruct by way of the Fall — I doubt he'd do this just because he's mildly annoyed about a nickname if he thought that was a likely consequence at all — but why not?

(Translating his lines in this scene were the most fun I've had in forever, incidentally, and I hope it shows. He’s like an apoplectic kitty, hissing and scratching without actually doing any damage whatsoever thus far. I love him.)

10.) Teeechnically Nea just says "eat food with you?" but Fiidora mentioned teatime earlier so I took a little creative liberty in order to get Nea's withering tone across properly. FUCK YO CRUMPETS

11.) "Back-from-the-dead guise" is awkward as fuck, I know, but bear with me. What he said in the raws was 天性したおまえのその姿, tenseishita omae no sono sugata. Tensei is straight-up reincarnation; the transmigration of souls, the cycle of rebirth, all that. The rest says "that form of yours." We don't really say "form" in English that way, and Nea's very glib, so I went with "back-from-the-dead guise" because Nea's implying that Tyki is wearing his own God-given face like it’s a costume of someone dead and gone. Which it is. Nea’s not too chuffed about seeing his old face prancing around on some oblivious baby Noah, clearly.

12.) Re: the next panel: holy cake-baking christ 

(@Noah: consider calming ur tit perhaps)

13.) Our very own Inspector Obvious, Howard Link, explains to Nea what a terrible goddamn idea this is, and Nea thanks him with -- wait for it -- MORE SARCASM. Link then announces that he will exhaust his strength attempting to stop Nea from doing this STUPID, STUPID thing. (The raws say 力尽く, which means "with all one's might" in the dictionary but the kanji literally say "strength + entirely exhaust," so. He intends a no-holds-barred takedown here. If there were any folding metal chairs around he’d be going for them.)

14.) haha oh god here we go, where's the kleenex, fuck

15.) So now we know what the time difference was like for Allen: he took Johnny's hand back there in the inn, but has only just now actually managed to emerge, and as far as he knows it's been no time at all. Wonder how long he'll manage to stay on the horse this time? (Hopefully, at least long enough to get to the Campbell mansion and find Katerina, as per Cross' suggestion.)

16.) I don't really have a lot to say about the next few pages except that I sobbed my way through translating what few lines there were. THEY HAVE SUCH A LOVE. Also Johnny is a reckless idiot, what was he planning to do?? Cushion Allen's landing with his own body?? Actually now that I think about it that's probably exactly what he intended. Fuck that, no, bye.

17.) That one page with the huge untranslated sound effect is noted in our translation gdoc as [Johnny screaming across entire page] and that was a general #mood for the whole job tbh.

18.) MORE EMOTIONS, SOBBING, WEEPING, ETC.

19.) Tiny note: the MS scanlation has Allen's little comment in response to Johnny's head-hug as "heavy" and I chose "can't breathe," but they both suit the purpose well enough. The raw just said くるしい kurushii, an expression of pain/discomfort which could have been due to either the weight or the smothering or both. :P

20.) Speaking of pain: ow @ Link’s face in that last panel. He got one thing he wanted (Allen's victory, snatched even from the teeth of defeat, a ray of hope for him re: his own probable future as Nea's next vessel) but lost something else he needed (Nea in control, so that Link might conspire with him and carry out Lvellie's commands). He's still torn, and not getting mended any. Wonder how long he'll manage to keep balancing on that knife's edge.

That's about it, I think! If anyone wants more kanji/kana transcriptions from the raws so they can double-check things for themselves, I'll be happy to provide them! I may also be open to answering meta questions here, though I'm currently on hiatus on my main. :)

Hope you've all enjoyed our release of this long-awaited and suitably glorious chapter! Please stick with us as we work to get the Re:Gray project (full rescanlation from the beginning, with the benefit of all we've learned so far!) off the ground. It's going to be fun, I promise. ♥

♦ panthaleia

#dgm225 #dgm meta #panthaleia #dgm #d gray man

[avengershumanresources]

Dust to Dust (11)

Summary: Where did Hydra come from? An idea? A twisted dream? For an organization that spans centuries, it kept relatively quiet until contemporary times.The Super Soldier serum wasn’t dreamt up over night, but was the product of numerous experiments both unethical and violent over the course of the century. It was going to be the end of all conflicts between good and evil. Scientists died trying to determine the next level of the serum, only for it to be stolen by enemies. Back and forth until one side had the advantage.

Mabel Foster was everything the ideal woman should be in 1914. She was well brought-up, wealthy, educated and the heiress to a large fortune. When her father died in a much publicized U-boat attack by the Germans, Mabel made a decision that changed the course of history by enlisting in the French Army during WWI.

After an ambush gone bad, Mabel found herself captured by an early group of Hydra.100 years later she’s discovered in a desolate Hydra base and is taken by the Avengers for safe-keeping and questioning. Little do they realize that all of their destinies and pasts are directly connected through the nest that Hydra weaved.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC (Original Female Character)

Rating/Warnings: Mature- Graphic violence, torture, PTSD, smut

"Without you here I am boring Something inside you is triggering It makes me myself Makes me funny, you're a beautiful thing."

-Grace VanderWaal (Beautiful Thing)

It was quiet.

For the first time, in a long time, all Mabel could hear was silence.  

When she and Bucky returned from their stint in Paris, things were quickly shuffled back in order and the pair was separated once again.  Mabel was back in her northern prison while Bucky was miles away in the city.  

Sam lectured her about how dangerous it could have been.  

Tony warned her about flashbacks.  

What was strange to her, however, was that Paris only ever held good memories.  Even during the war, she never saw the struggle within the city itself.  Just outside of it.  

Mabel continued to stare up at the sterile white ceiling of her bedroom.  It was so peaceful.  The silence.

But why did she feel so unnerved?

Certainly, she would have to give Steve the letters she'd retrieved.  She initially had asked Bucky to handle the task, but he argued it would mean more coming from her.  They agreed to keep quiet about it until she had the opportunity to cross paths with the blonde super soldier.

The duo had also decided not to mention all of the letters they’d located.  Mabel didn’t want to reveal any of it, but Bucky reasoned that it would look strange if they returned empty handed.  Always the rational one.

It was almost immediately after they landed back in the States that Bucky had to return to Manhattan.  Now, she simply had to exist and find the clues to unlock her mind.  

Paris had helped; probably more than she initially realized.  While she was reviewing the letters she finally began to understand the underlying meaning behind the trigger “central”.

Central Park, Central Europe, central headquarters on the front line… it was such a necessary jargon used in her everyday life.  And of course, when she mentioned this revelation to Sam, he made her work through every memory she could pull free.  

Soon, he commented toward the end of the session that day, Wanda would begin to be involved again.  

Bucky had warned her about that.  He warned her that finding the memories was the easy part. It was the separation of reality and fiction that was the real challenge.  

Her heart sank at the thought of the blue-eyed boy.  She missed him terribly.

He did call, when he could, and promised that he would start writing the moment they returned.  

Two weeks had passed and Mabel was still waiting on that letter.  

From time to time Bruce or Sam would fill her in on missions the team was on, or explain a current event the team had reacted to.  

Fortunately, Bruce heaved a sigh of relief one afternoon, the threats had been pretty mild.  

Hydra was almost destroyed.  Or so they said.  

It felt like the organization had just gotten started to Mabel, but she had to remind herself that she had been asleep for over a hundred years.  

Supposedly, there wasn't anyone left to pick up the reins and build back what the good guys had painstakingly worked to demolish.  

“Miss Foster,” the Irish AI chimed to life in the soldier's room.   The blonde nearly tumbled off of her bed in surprise.  It would take a lifetime to get used to the voice appearing out of nowhere.  

“Yes?” She questioned the empty room uneasily.  

“The Boss would like you to join him in the training facility,” she reported back. “Shall I inform him you're on your way?”

“I will be there shortly, thank you,” Mabel's response was curt, dismissing the AI before it could speak again.  She pulled on a pair of laced sneakers and navigated her way through the maze of the facility.  

It was an impressive building.  Stark has outdone himself in thinking of every little thing a human or enhanced human could possibly need.  

It was clear that the training facility was the crowning achievement of that goal.  The massive gymnasium had everything.  Weapons, training mats, exercise equipment… anything the ones heart desired and more.  

Mabel walked into the room, surprised at its emptiness.  Generally it was either occupied by team members or SHIELD agents who needed specialized training. She’d never seen it completely vacated.  

“Blocked off the whole afternoon,” Tony's voice echoed through the space.  “Talked it over with the boys upstairs and it was decided that we should spend some time playing with my toys today.”

Mabel met him by the armory tucked away toward the back of the room.  An impressive stockpile of weapons that only the Avengers had access to.  

“You're letting me touch a lethal weapon?” She asked in disbelief, eyeing a wall dedicated to knives.  “You didn’t even want me leaving the county.”

“These are definitely non-lethal,” he laughed plucking a knife off the wall and poking it into his forearm. “Do you think Cap is taking a real bullet to the leg every other day?”

Mabel kept her mouth shut.  What other types of weapons would there be?  How else would one stress the potential of death during a training scenario?  It wouldn’t be very effective unless it simulated-

“Rubber bullets, taser darts,” he grabbed a small dart off a shelf and jabbed it into Mabel's thigh.  Pain exploded in her leg and she dropped, aching like she'd been hit with an actual round.  “Neuro stimulant.  Your brain thinks you've been shot but physically you're barely even nicked.”

He helped her off the ground while the effects faded.  She flexed her leg when she was upright and examined the dart with a skeptical expression.  Mabel set it aside and moved toward another object in curiosity.  

“Tracking gun,” Tony explained when she lifted a small handgun. “For when you need to find the bad guys hideout.”

“Tracking?”

“Satellite tracking,” he clarified.  “I can get a second by second read out within five feet of the targets location.”

She raised her eyebrows and continued to browse, much to Starks amusement. 

Eventually her attention settled on a sleek sniper rifle toward the back of the room.  

“That's the Night King’s favorite plaything too,” Tony mused earning a frown from his companion. “Night King?  Haven't you caught up on Game of Thrones?  Ugh.  Barnes.  He loves the thing.”

Mabel could see why.  She gingerly lifted it out of its holder and examined the piece of machinery.  The weight was perfect, the scope was accurate beyond anything she'd ever seen… it felt like an extension of her being.  

“Wanna shoot it?” Tony offered with a grin.  Mabel lowered the weapon and looked up hesitantly.  

“Is that wise?” She questioned quietly.  

“I already told you, I got the all clear,” he explained.  “Besides, I've got at least a dozen protocols that could take you down before you could even bruise me.”

She examined the rifle again, her fingers itching toward the trigger.  

“Ok,” she relented softly.  “Just for a few minutes.”

Tony was already typing something into a nearby panel.  They stepped out of armory into the training area where an entire section of the room had shifted into a shooting range.  

“There are tons of different options you can use with regard to targets,” he explained, ushering her a little closer to the station.  Mabel kept a suspicious eye around the room, half expecting something to jump at her.  “For now, I’ll keep it basic, paper targets to get you warmed up.”  

He pressed a button and a few dozen targets dropped from the ceiling.

“Now, normally in the range I let the team use live ammo,” he continued with a frown.  “But for now, we’ll keep you with the fake stuff.  Just in case.”

“Just in case,” she repeated, leaning into the weapon.  She used the scope to fire a few rounds before realizing how smooth it shot.  She truthfully didn’t even need the scope for a clear shot.  It was only when the target was further down the line that she utilized it.

Tony continued dropping targets for the woman, occasionally humming to himself when she made a particularly difficult shot.  

Mabel hadn’t felt so at ease in years.  It was like regaining use of a defective limb- she felt alive.

Tony began to change up the targets, introducing moving holographic humanoid images.  

“On the model, hit the points that light up red,” he instructed.  Mabel waited and saw the first model’s neck light up.  She hit the point and another popped up a few yards away, this time their torso lighting red.  She kept the pattern up, hitting the targets as quickly as they appeared.  When it became overwhelmingly swarmed with targets, she picked off the closest ones and moved backwards.  

It wasn’t until Tony shut off the module that she lowered her weapon and set it on the table.  

She looked to the genius expectantly, waiting for some kind of commentary on her actions.  He looked down at his tablet in surprise, murmuring something under his breath and shaking his head before speaking up.

“You’re nearly tied with Barnes on accuracy and a bit slower than Barton,” he reported.  “I think we found where your talents lay.”

“I killed people hidden in ditches for years,” she replied dryly.  “I’d hope I’d be a decent shot.”

“Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re joking or are just incredibly morbid,” Tony commented offhand before passing her a few of the knives.  The game was similar, but the models were solid with a jelly like flesh substance on the outside to mimic flesh.  

Mabel’s throwing wasn’t anywhere near her shot, but Tony pointed out that her knowledge of close combat kill points was topnotch.  He let her try her hand at one of Clint’s bows, laughing as she tried to understand the compound bow’s unfamiliar structure.  Unsurprisingly her aim with a traditional longbow was a little more accurate.  

He explained how some of the other technology worked, introducing her FRIDAY’s field capabilities and taking her to the nearby vehicle garage to show her some of the ground vehicles they used in the field.  

When it was all over, Mabel followed him back to the heart of the compound, remaining silence while he clicked away on his little computer.  She had million questions but only enough courage to voice one out loud.

“Why did you show me all of that?” she asked when they ended in the kitchen.  Tony had offered her a seat at a nearby table and walked over to start a pot of coffee.  

“Admittedly, I was a little hesitant on how you’d handle basic training exercises,” he began while the coffee pot gurgled to life.  “Cap was the one who suggested it, after you and Barnes returned from Europe.”  

Mabel stayed quiet, allowing to him to continue through his story before questioning further.  

“Sam had reported your psychological state was unaffected by the trip,” he arched a brow in Mabel’s direction and she confirmed the fact with a small nod.

“I didn’t believe it, until I realized that your unit didn’t see combat in the city.  That and reading through some of your letters you handed over.  You’ve always been a stick in the mud, haven’t you?” He laughed at his joke and poured the hot liquid into two mugs.  “Do you want any sugar or milk?”

“Black is fine,” she replied, taking the warm mug and giving it a testing sip.  

“So, after looking over that and the cute little sparring session you had with Barnes, I realized that we haven’t been using your full potential.  We have three super soldiers hanging around and we only bring two of them into the field.  It seemed like a waste,” he shrugged casually and sat down across from her.  “Granted it’d be a while before we actually brought you into the field.  Assuming that’s something you’d even be interested in… I just wanted to get some accurate schematics to present Fury, in the event we do need you.”  

Mabel digested the information, taking a few sips from her drink before looking the brunette in the eye.  

“So this was a test?” she asked.  She wasn’t surprised.  Mabel had an impressive history behind her.  She’d been enhanced during her time in Hydra and considering Bucky’s role in all of this…  It was inevitable that it would come up.  

“Of sorts,” he replied.  “I figured you wouldn’t go off the wall and begin attacking, despite the warnings of some others.”

Mabel wondered briefly who would have warned him against that.  She knitted her brows in a frustrated frown, combing through those aware of her full status mentally.  

Sam maybe?  Nat?  

“I’m trying to get you to trust me,” he admitted after a pause to swallow down his coffee.  “You’ve been dealt a terrible hand and I’d like to help you fix it, but… you’re locking down.”

Mabel certainly hadn’t expected the conversation to shift in that direction.  She did trust him, to a certain extent.  Everyone had ulterior motives.  She didn’t completely trust anyone, ever.  

Even Bucky was held a certain distance away in the event that she needed to run.  The way she saw it, with a few words she could kill everyone in that building, there was too much risk in forming attachments.

“I know there are other letters,” he continued softly.  “And it’s fine that you’d like to keep them to yourself, you’re entitled to that.  I’d never ask you to hand over anything personal or sentimental.  It’s not even necessarily helpful for me to figure out what happened during the war, I mean, we’re working with whatever happened between 1917 and today, right?”  

There was unspoken request under all of this, Mabel could sense it.  

“What is it you want?” she asked firmly.  The question came out a bit more aggressive than Mabel had initially intended, but it was direct.  She’d at least get a straight answer.

“I have a lot of files from a lot of people spanning from 1905 to the day Barnes popped up in Berlin,” he seemed surprised at her abruptness, but nonetheless continued speaking.  

“The vast majority were written by your direct superior throughout 1916 and 1918.  I also found a chunk that references a ton of experimentation.  It’s ugly and I had to swallow my own dinner a few times, but I think you might be able to help,” he finished and she felt him studying her reaction to this.  

Mabel figured all of that would be dug up eventually.  She knew there were secrets that would follow her unit’s name past the grave, she’d just hoped that it wouldn’t have been relevant a hundred years in the future.  

And that she wouldn’t have been the one to answer for it.  

“Are you looking for answers?  Or clarification?” she threw out a few suggestions, trying to understand exactly what he wanted.  

“A little of both,” he spun his tablet around and revealed a copy of a file Mabel hadn’t seen in decades.  It was signed by her higher ups and redacted significantly.  “According to the history books, this never happened.  Why?”

She looked at the date and swallowed.  December 28th, 1917.  

“It was a classified military operation,” she began the familiar speech before pausing and holding her breath.  “We’d been sent in to kill Allied leaders who had been exposing battle strategy to the enemy.  Their names are now celebrated and that was the intention of my superiors.”

“Who were they?” he pressed and Mabel studied pages in the tablet, scrolling through and stopping on a heavily redacted page.

“Generals on the Western front primarily,” she grabbed a nearby napkin and looked around for a pen.  Tony supplied one from a pocket and she wrote a clean list of the men whose lives she’d ended with a single bullet.  “The goal was to make it look like an enemy ambush.  We used German weapons and called it operation Santa’s List.”  

The bitter humor wasn’t lost on Tony while he read the list over, his brows raising at a few of the names.

“These were heavy hitters,” he confessed.  “And they betrayed the Allies?  Not a smart move.”

“‘Loose lips sink ships,’” she quoted the old wartime slogan.  “It seems that a lot of people today forget how brutal and cruel humanity became over the course of a few years.  When I was a child, you had to look the man you killed in the eye.  By the time I was a woman, I could end a handful of lives over a great distance.  The goal was to kill as many people at once, as quickly as possible and sometimes one side would pay better than the other for an advantage.”

Her blunt statement seemed to shake him slightly and finally she could see fear in his eyes.

“I blew up an entire terror cell once with a single blast,” he muttered, looking down at the table.  “My family made their money during the first world war by creating and supplying the weapons you used to destroy.  It continued until recently, actually.  My name was synonymous with death and destruction.  I’d like to say things have changed, but we’re all still blowing people up from a distance.”  

“Humanity never changes,” Mabel sighed.  “We fight for power that doesn’t exist and create enemies of people who are essentially the same as us.”  

“But we’ve taken steps,” Tony pointed out.  “We created the Avengers, we defended the world from evils born in other galaxies.  Sometimes humanity is forced to change, and that change takes time.  Just as it’s taken time for you to adapt to this new world, we’re still trying to grasp our minds around the questions you asked yourself as a child.”

“What can I do then?” she was genuinely interested in what her, a child of war, could contribute to their mission.  She could shoot and she could kill.  That’s all she knew.  That’s all she allowed herself to know.  

“For now?  I want you to heal,” his tone was firm.  “I want you to read your letters, and grieve and be in pain.  I want you to feel again.  We’re not here to shoot down piles of enemy soldiers, we’re here to protect the innocent and dismantle the institutions that hurt the innocent.  In a week, you’re being relocated to the Manhattan base.  You’re going to build relationships, you’re going to ache for the relationships lost and then you’re going to use that pain to fight.”

Mabel couldn’t suppress the smile that skirted her features.  

“And what makes you so sure all of this will happen?” she tried, the smile turning into a sly smirk.  “Or that I’m even willing to do any of this?”

“Because we’ve been cut from the same cloth Foster,” he pointed out.  “It’s easy to freeze people out, but it’s harder and more impressive to let them back in.  It makes the fight worth fighting.”

“I don’t know if it’ll be that simple,” she whispered the confession, her head down.  “It’s been a long time.”

Tony stood up from the table and grinned.

“Then we’ll just fire a bullet into Barnes’ stomach and see what happens, hm?”

Mabel was utterly unprepared for the wave of nausea that hypothetical present her.  Maybe Tony Stark had a point.

December 25th, 1917- Western Front

“Merry Christmas,” Joseph broke a piece of bread in half and passed it a shivering Mabel.  She took it gratefully, trying to use her imagination to pretend it was warm and soft; instead of cold and stale.  

“I got you something,” Mabel began before smirking. “But the damn Germans blew it up before I had the chance to wrap it.”

“Ah it's the thought that counts,” Joseph laughed, tugging his coat a little tighter around his shoulders.  “Weather didn't decide bless us with a miracle, huh?”

Mabel grunted a response, sipping at a metal container of tea that had long chilled.

“How long you been out here?” He asked and Mabel shrugged her shoulders.  

“Almost a week?  Rotation should be up soon, or so I'm told.  Assuming Meyer or Marsh don't get their asses blown up between now and sunrise,” she tried for another sip of the cold drink before tossing the container at a rat picking at a pile of waste in frustration.  

“So what you're saying is you're stuck through the new year,” Joseph snorted in laughter when the rat hissed and scampered off into the shadows.  

“Speak of the devil,” Mabel heard a few footfalls in the distance, revealing Meyer and Marsh looking a little worse for wear.  “Merry Christmas.”

“I’m Jewish,” Meyer grunted, dropping on a nearby supply crate and pulling a bottle of half empty whiskey.  He passed it to Marsh who took a long swallow and continued passing it around.  Mabel shrugged the offer away after Joseph took a pull from the bottle and handed it back to Meyer.

“Happy Hanukkah,” he grumbled, finishing off the rest of the drink and throwing it aside.  “It’s been quiet.”

They all hummed in agreement.  

“Fuck all this,” Marsh finally voiced the thought the quartet had simmering under the surface.  He stood up in the trench, peering slightly above the surface and shouting.  “Oy!  Krauts!  Tell your Kaiser he can lick my ballsack!”  

A shot just missed his head by inches and he dropped back into the trench, falling into Joseph.  He gave the group a wide eyed look before nearly choking on his laughter.  

They spent the time until sunrise shouting the most creative and vile insults they could muster toward the enemy line.  They were pretty sure the Germans couldn’t even hear them, but damn did it feel good.

Mabel almost forgot about the cold and the bitter and the hunger that ached her stomach.  

The higher-ups always stressed that camaraderie was important, and Mabel knew why, sometimes you had to be willing to take the bullet for the soldier who could complete the mission.  It made sense in a logistical way.  

But on top of that, it made sense on a psychological level.  She’d have gone mad ages ago if she’d dealt with this alone.  But she had fellow soldiers to fall back on. 

 Soldiers who’d seen their brothers blow to bits in seconds, or lost limbs or suffered through frozen Christmases while their families back home snuggled warm by a fire.

It was a bitter, beautiful, thing.

PART 12

#marvel #mcu #winter solider #captain america #avengers #ww1 #ww2 #hydra #ofc #oc #original female character #bucky/OC #Steve Rogers #bucky barnes

[thotyssey]

On Point With: Elizabeth James

Sporting a diversity of glam looks and a stage presence that’s both weirdly funny and seriously smart, this queen has been turning the party in both Brooklyn and Manhattan for a few years now. And with her “always look ahead” attitude, she’ll be evolving and conquering our venues for years to come. Let’s get into Elizabeth James!

Thotyssey: Hello, Miz Liz! How’s the week been so far?

Elizabeth James: Good morning love, my week has been great. Oh, the promise of spring! This has been a pretty mild winter so far, only that one blizzard that turned out to be kinda meh. Did that one ruin any of your gigs that night, or plans? No, I was actually off that night so had a great dinner and watched old movies. Perfect! As a way-booked queen, do you get to have a reasonable amount of downtime, or is your life like 93% drag-related? I work a lot, whether it's on stage or not. Liz is somewhat all-consuming. But my days off are usually Monday and Tuesday, and I really make it a point to disconnect and put my focus on things outside of my career. That keeps me fresh, but it took a while to earn those days off.

I bet! You certainly put a lot into Liz. How long have you been doing drag now?

It's been four years now, New Year's Eve is my drag anniversary. That's interesting! What made you want to try drag on NYE? I lived in Nashville, TN at the time, and a guy we knew asked my friend Kaleb and I if we would host his party in drag. When my first song ended, I remember running back stage and telling my friends “Something special just happened.” I was hooked. I heard that you named yourself “Elizabeth James” after a certain photograph.

Yes. One of Elizabeth Taylor taking a nap in James Dean’s lap. But that was long before drag; I thought I would name a puppy that, or maybe an adopted daughter. Never thought I would do drag. Truly.

I love that her face is on the gossip mag he is reading:

That is adorable! Human, but still glamorous.

'Human but still glamorous' I think that maybe the perfect description of Me. Absolutely! Mostly glamorous, though. 

You've spoken about how you had to cut ties with your mom and stepdad at a young age because they didn't accept your sexuality. Do you think they'll ever be able to get over that hump? No, I don't. But I also don't think I'm missing out on anything by not having a relationship with them. Things happen in your life that may seem wrong at the time, but end up being such a blessing. If they hadn't done that, I would still be living in Kentucky trying to make them love me. And now you're in NY and everybody here loves you... it's their loss! Having a Trump in the White House validates people who have intolerance towards “alternate” lifestyles, of course. Everything is validation to the ignorant, because they don't understand the true meaning of their choices. And very little chance getting through to them. Gilda Wabbit is also from Kentucky, is it possible that there are more Kentucky-born drag queens in New York than there are in KY? So funny to think about how I thought of it then. Drag, like being an artist or dancer or something, isn't a thing you realize is a possibility. I imagine there are just as many drag queens in every location of the world; they just don't see the possibility.

I'm sure that's true. So what brought you to NY specifically: did you want the lifestyle, or were you maybe looking for a career in performing in some capacity?

I was offered a job as Liz, and things literally just fell into place, so I did it. Best decision I have ever made! Where was that? Sugarland, of course! I worked with a blogger at the time in Nashville name “Holly Hollywood,” and her publisher sent us around to interview different people in nightlife across the northeast. New York, and more specially Sugarland, was our last stop. I was offered a job on the spot and a free couch. I arrived in Chinatown October 15th at 11am with a suitcase and $35. It was [originally] $75, but I paid my phone bill and got a bag of Cheetos at a gas station on the way up.

The first time I ever saw you perform was at the old Boots & Saddle on Christopher Street. You did lots of guest spots at first, and eventually hosted your own weekly show there.

Boots was a hell hole, but It did teach me how to carry a show. Sink or swim, you are there for two hours. After sinking a few times, you make it a point to swim.

I will also say that [”head” Boots queen at the time] Victoria Chase was always so good to me, and taught me so much about the business. And I miss her directness. 

I always liked your sense of humor as a performer, kind of warm and kooky, but smart. Untitled Queen compared you to Goldie Hawn. Is that your natural state, or does that have to be turned on when you're on stage? 

I'm fully myself. I love performing, and I love making jokes. And the only way for me to be good at either one is to be me. The thing that Liz does for me is give me the freedom to put my mind in the shoes of different people. And of course, my life is what I talk about on stage and in my comedy. My look informs my performances, and my performances are informed by my life.  You certainly do not have a specific look; I've seen you go very high glam and very downtown chic, and everything in between and beyond. People tell me all the time I should be one look. But the people who enjoy what I do enjoy change and diversity. I love to push things and try new ideas. It doesn't always work at first, but I always find it. 

Do you have style icons?

It's tough to give a name. But I think my style is more so influenced by inspiring personalities. One well-written line of dialogue or lyric can give me weeks of visuals to play off. Interesting! You hosted a Rocky Horror screening back in October.

Yes, for Pace University.

That movie must've been an influence style-wise, right? Even that... I was sort of a hybrid of different personalities from that. I'm not an impersonator, I don't have that level of self control. I will never directly copy. There is no point to it. I bet you could do a mean Cher, though. Oh, I love her! Do you know, in 5th grade when “Believe” came out, my teachers would pull me out of class into the empty halls of my small town Kentucky elementary school to do my Cher impersonation!? They loved it! I laugh about that all the time. Drag was my destiny!

I can see that! So, I imagine you must miss Sugarland and another now-closed Brooklyn venue where you performed, TNT, quite a lot. No, I really don't miss them. I had a blast there, and those times in my life were important, but I don't hold on to things in that way. No point, just slows you down. I love my shows much more now. I had worked at those places from the time I arrived in New York, so I was a different person, and it was time to move forward. Things don't close because they are doing well. And nostalgia is boring.

I know what you mean about nostalgia. It's especially boring, I think, when people just try to recreate something that was successful in its time. I'm thinking right now of all these live action remakes of classic Disney animated films, which I don't see the appeal of at all. 

But you wouldn't, because you have your set of memories about those works. So the “new” isn't necessarily for you, it’s to inspire the young ones who don't care about the versions we grew up loving. (This is clearly the proverbial “you” and not pointing directly at you.) But I think it's weird that a live action version would be more appealing to today's youth than animation. I figured animation would be timeless.

I think the energy of live action feels fresh to people. That’s why Reality TV is so big: it feels in the moment, when done correctly. But animation: come on, I love colors! whats your favorite classic animated film.... classic meaning anything before the glory and awe of Pixar?

As far as Disney goes, probably Pinocchio? Creepy and beautiful and sweet and devastating, all at once.  Pinocchio is amazing.... the color stories through it are really special. What's  your favorite? Peter Pan... But [as far as characters go] I liked Cinderella the most, because i felt she had a quiet sass. But the pixie dust is beautiful!

Okay, let's gab about gigs! I actually wanna start with Manhattan. You and your partner-in-crime Ruby Roo are the toast of the borough! In the West Village, your Sunday night show at the Duplex with her, "Two For The Show," just turned three years-old, and you have quite a following there. What's the best part of doing this show for you?

Duplex is such a special baby. We were so new when that show happened for us, and we have grown up with that show. So it’s now finding a solid ground of success three years later, and Ruby and I both seeing our past dreams come true is incredible. And the staff there, including Tony our manager and the venue’s owner, have let us figure it out and learn our craft through it. That doesn't happen in entertainment very often, where you either HIT or you’re out.

You two have the longest-running drag show there, and all the other queens on the roster also happen to be Lips girls. Do they ever try to recruit you into that fold?

No, I think everyone understands that’s not a good fit. But those girls work hard and are 100% professional, Ruby included. You and Ruby are now also lighting up Hardware in Hell’s Kitchen with SLAY Saturdays! I imagine that's a pretty different scene from the West Village and Brooklyn. How well do you mesh there--or do you not think about it in those terms? You have to think about it in those terms--because this is a business, and one size does not fit all. Hardware is a different thing, but from Night One we had people coming out to say how much they loved coming to Brooklyn to see us. We unknowingly already had a great following in that area. 

Plus, everyone in HK has dreams in their eyes, they sparkle when they walk in. Its fun to see. All the Broadway babes! Yea they’re glittery! But Brooklyn is my home, and nothing beats home, and all the charming people in it.

Which brinks us to BK! Your long-running Wednesday party and show at Metropolitan Bar, CAKES--starring you, DJ Horrorchata and Untitled, is fun--and there's bare butts, so it's even more fun in my book. Is it usually a chore to get guys to enter the Best Butt contest?

Not at all.... I hate audience participation in most cases, but that’s so much harmless, sexy fun. And you tell a room of cute guys and girls they can win $50 for showing what they just shared on Instagram, they are always down. It amazes me how every Wednesday is such a blast, great way to start my work week! We have also added Hannah Lou as our DJ, alongside Chatta. Oh, nice! She seemed to be DJing every party in Brooklyn now. She’s a hard worker and talented-- I like her a lot!

You also host a show called ”Air Play” at Metro’s sister bar, Macri Park, right?

It's the first and third Friday at midnight. I do two sets and I keep it low-key. It's like my living room, and I love it.

And now: RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 9! Is hosting a Drag Race viewing party, and the whole culture of the show, a necessary evil for you--or do you get into it? Its a cute time. I’ve hosted at a new place each year, just because, why not? This year i am at a place in Bushwick called The Well, and I believe it’s the best venue for a viewing in Brooklyn. The setup, the sound: it’s right. And it’s a great stage for a good follow-up show, hosted by me of course. Do straight or mixed audiences get just as in to the show as a room full of queens? That show is for everyone. I’m happy to see it on VH1; I think it’s only going to grow the audience.

So this is a dangerous question maybe, but who's team are you on, queen-wise? Aja. Nothing against anyone else, but the girl deserves every bit of good fortune given to her. She is so incredible, and has worked her ass off for everything she’s ever had. Special person, true discipline. Shes amazing!  Anything else to mention? I work 4-5 nights a week. Follow me on Instagram or add me on Facebook--I post everything! And I really am proud of all my shows. So come to the one that works best for you!

By the way, I like the video you put together awhile back to Echo Friendly’s “Same Mistakes.” It’s very stylish and bittersweet. Any more projects like that in the future for you?

I am currently working on a few projects... TBA.

And I caught an old clip of Misty Meaner joking on the mic that you hate everybody. Were you in the room when she said that? I wasn’t there, and I don’t hate everyone. I’m just not available to everyone. I would never think you hated anyone, you're always lovely! So, lastly: what’s your favorite part of drag?

Knowing people believe in you.

Yasss. And what's least favorite thing about drag in NYC, or in general? Drag in general: being hot. And in NYC, it’s taking the subway in heels. But I have to live that fantasy through, so don’t tell me to put on a flat. Like the prostitute once said, "it’s not the work, it’s the stairs."

Keep climbing, gurl, and thank you!

Elizabeth James co-hosts “CAKES” with Untitled Queen and Horrorchata at Metropolitan Bar on Wednesdays (10pm), and hosts “Air Play” at Macri Park monthly on first and third Fridays (midnight). With Ruby Roo, she co-hosts “SLAY Saturdays” at Hardware (10pm) and “Two For The Show” at the Duplex (Sundays, midnight). This season, she hosts the “RuPaul’s Drag Race” viewing party at The Well (8pm). Check here for other scheduled appearances. Follow Liz on Facebook, Instagram & YouTube.

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