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daryldamnson · 1 year

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Elm Street and Other Things Worth Waiting For

summary: eddie’s convinced he heard you listening to black sabbath. steve’s not having it. you just came in to rent a horror movie; you leave with a maybe date with the metalhead who’s kind of already obsessed with you. fem!reader, awkward but soft eddie, supportive steve

word count: 2.1k

ao3 link

“Her?” Steve’s eyes practically bulge out of his head like a cartoon as Eddie tries not to take offence at his tone. “Really?”

Eddie shoots him an unimpressed look at his incredulation, embarrassed enough at the conversation topic without the added scrutiny.

“I just…” Steve shrugs, moving the box in front of him to the side to lean his forearms on the counter. “I don’t see it, man, I don’t know - you’re just so different.”

The pair are trying to look but not obviously stare at you as you wander around Family Video, tipping your head a little to read the titles of the shelf full of movies in front of you.

“I know, but…” He absolutely does not want to mention that you were the only person in his group project last year to treat him like a person. Like he wasn’t The Freak; like he wasn’t intimidating; like he wasn’t an idiot for failing senior year twice. “I’m pretty sure she was listening to Sabbath the other week in the library.”

It’s true, but Eddie’s little crush - huge, ginormous, life-ruining crush, more like - had started long before that.

Steve, well aware of his new friend’s obsession with the band, had tried to give them a listen once. He’d made it to about the 3-minute mark before he’d given up. Metal’s not his jam - and he’s pretty certain it’s not yours either.

“How sure? Because I’ve gotta be honest, man, I doubt it. I mean… Look at her and tell me she listens to 6-minute guitar riffs and scream-singing.”

Eddie’s expression drops.

Steve’s not sure if he knows it, but Eddie’s face plays out his emotions like a book - a really simple kids book with loads of pictures and no ambiguity.

Normally, it’s something he likes about him - it’s sort of nice in a way, not having to guess what he’s thinking or feeling, and there’s a childlike kind of sweetness to it if he really thinks about it - but when Eddie’s sad it’s just heartbreakingly obvious.

“I don’t know, man,” he backpedals, scrambling to take it back. “What do I know, huh? I was shocked when I found out how much she likes horror movies and we’d been sort-of friends for years by then.”

It doesn’t really look like Eddie’s paying him any attention anymore, his forlorn, pining puppy–dog eyes gazing at you across the room.

Steve, still half-desperate to bring a smile back to his normally goofy friend’s face, calls out to you.

“Hey, L/N!”

Your head swings up from the shelf of horror tapes you’d been studying, looking over your left shoulder at the two of them. Eddie almost has a heart attack at the suddenness of it all and tries to wipe the terrified look off his face.

“Hey, Harrington.” One brow quirks up as you wait for an indication of what he wants.

“Who’s your favourite musician?”

Both brows shoot up your forehead as you tilt your head a little in confusion. “What?”

Eddie finds your baffled expression unfairly endearing. Your right hand is still resting on the VHS in front of you as you turn your body slightly to face them. Eddie’s eyes flicker to where your middle finger taps once on the top of the tape as he tries to figure out what movie it is.

“Y’know - singer? Band?” Steve continues, shoulders shrugging slightly. “Etcetera?”

You’re looking at Steve like he’s a little nuts but then clearly decide to roll with it as you shrug, a contemplative expression taking over your face.

“I don’t know that I can pick just one. S’like asking a mother to pick her favourite kid, y’know?” You pause, tilting your head back a little as you shake it, a sardonic smile tilting the corners of your lips. “No, that’s not right - parents do that all the time. It’s more like…”. Your eyes rove around the store before landing back on Steve. “Picking a favourite movie. There’s so many! And so many genres - how do you put one single film above the others? It’s too hard.”

Eddie’s hanging onto every word you say. You’d talked a little when you were doing project work, but it was hardly anything and it was almost all assignment-related. Hearing you talk music and movies was much more captivating.

“I have a favourite movie,” is Steve’s slightly confused answer.

“Of course you do, Stevie.” Your tone has turned playfully condescending. “Because you’re as simple as you are pretty.”

He lets out a choked sound of indignance as Eddie struggles between jealousy and amusement.

“Fuck off,” Steve answers, no real malice in his voice.

“Speaking of favourite movies,” you move on, leaning forward against the counter you’d been slowly ambling over to during the conversation. The same counter Eddie was currently pressed against. He feels himself freeze up at your proximity. “When’s Elm Street due back in?”

“You and goddamn Elm Street,” Steve mutters, rolling his eyes as he dutifully makes his way over to the computer to check. He flashes a look of encouragement at Eddie as he walks away but the metalhead isn’t so much as glancing at him, his eyes trained on the curve of your jaw.

Way to make it obvious, dude.

Having resigned himself to being a spectator of this conversation, Eddie is wholly unprepared when your focus shifts to him.

“Hi, Eddie.” Your tone matches your smile - sweet and soft. Gone is the teasing familiarity you had with Steve, replaced with something softer - almost shy.

Eddie can’t decide if he hates it or loves it.

Hates it because he wants to exchange easy banter as you call him pretty and make fun of him with a comfort borne of familiarity.

Loves it because there’s something so utterly disarming about the saccharine sweetness your voice adds to his name.

He didn’t even know you really knew his name.

“Uh, hi.” He manages to throw out robotically, trying not to do a full body cringe out of embarrassment. “I don’t have a favourite movie,” blurts out of his mouth before he can think it through and he feels his humiliation skyrocket.

“No?” You question, an amused smile tugging at your lips.

“No,” he confirms, shaking his head as if to reiterate the point.

Idiot.

“Genre?”

“Sorry?”

“Do you have a favourite genre?” You clarify, not looking irritated in the slightest at his lack of understanding but he feels his cheeks flush anyway.

“Oh,” he mutters, swinging the top half of his body left to right a little to try and rid himself of some of the nervous energy he’s been accumulating. “Uh… Horror.”

Eddie feels himself shrug a little self-deprecatingly at his honest answer.

The metalhead’s favourite genre is horror; what a cliche.

But then a smile grows on your face as you nod.

“Me too,” you say, and suddenly he remembers that you’d exclusively checked the horror section before sending Steve off on his Nightmare on Elm Street related errand, and he feels simultaneously dumb for not noticing and elated that you’d already found common ground.

“Cool!” It's just a touch too loud. Eddie clears his throat and tries again, voice a little softer this time. “That’s… Cool.”

Jesus Christ, man.

Thankfully, his awkwardness doesn’t seem to bother you this time either as you step a little closer to him.

“I like your pins.” You reach across the small space left between you to flick at one of the Black Sabbath pins stuck on his denim vest as he looks down to follow the movement with his eyes.

A smoother man could’ve taken this opportunity to learn if you really did listen to Sabbath like he’d suspected.

Instead, Eddie lets out an unintelligible sound that seems to land somewhere between ‘oh’ and ‘huh’ as his gaze shoots back up to meet yours. He’s pretty certain at this point his cheeks might as well just stay pink with how often they’re flushing with awkward embarrassment.

If he’d had any hint of a shot with you before, which let’s be honest, Munson, you didn’t, he’s positive the well on that had run dry.

You’re smiling at him, though, and even if the amusement glinting in your eyes makes him feel a little like you might me laughing at him, he’s just grateful it doesn’t seem malicious. More like you’re letting him in on the joke.

You roll your bottom lip with your teeth and Eddie finds himself utterly captivated by the movement, eyes trained on your tongue as the edge peeks out to soothe the area.

You’re not stupid. You’d noticed the way his eyes would light up whenever you backed up his ideas for the project last year. The way he’d flash you a hesitant smile whenever you’d catch his gaze in class afterwards. You’d seen his cheeks flush an adorable pink when you grazed your fingers against his palm to lend him a pen. You’d watched him pace around your general vicinity in the library like a caged lion last week. You haven’t missed the way his wide, chocolate-brown eyes remain on your lips for a tad too long after you’d purposefully drawn his attention to them moments ago.

You’re not stupid, and it’s knowing this that pushes you to say what you do next.

“You like Nightmare on Elm Street?”

You watch as his gaze flicks up to meet yours, the guilt of being caught causing it to flicker away over your shoulder almost immediately.

He catches sight of Steve, very clearly typing at the slowest pace possible and trying not to eavesdrop. He’s not sure whether to be grateful or furious.

I’m making a fool out of myself here, man, come save me, half of him whines, battling the other half practically begging for more time alone with you.

“Uh…” Eddie stammers out, a few beats too late. “Yeah. Yeah, I love it.”

“I’m gonna rent it out as soon as it’s back. Y’know… If you want to–”

“Wanna watch it together?” His sudden understanding of where you’re going with the conversation makes him over-eager and he finds himself cutting you off to jump to the point. Like you’ll change your mind if he gives you half a second to think about it.

The smile that tugs at your lips tells him you find it endearing rather than annoying.

“I’d like that.” You nod a little as if emphasising your answer. Your voice is soft but sure and Eddie can’t help the grin that stretches his lips upwards, your own smile growing in response.

There’s a beat of time where you both stand there smiling at each other before you snap out of it to pick up a pen from the counter beside you. You hold your hand out and Eddie’s a little embarrassed by how long it takes him to realise you’re asking for his hand.

His breath hitches at the feel of your fingers circling his wrist as your other hand uses the pen to scrawl your number onto his forearm. You add a small ‘x’ below it and Eddie experiences a moment of insanity where he thinks about getting the little kiss tattooed there permanently.

He feels your fingers brush curiously over the gruesome ink puppet on his forearm when you’ve finished writing and nearly loses his mind. It’s the briefest of touches before you pull away but he just knows he’s going to think about it all week.

You call out “see you around, Harrington!” as you step back to put the pen on the counter once more.

You send a casual wave of acknowledgement in his direction when he yells back “Friday!” in answer to your long-since asked question before turning your soft smile back to Eddie.

“Call me this weekend?”

“Okay,” is all he manages to choke out.

“Okay,” you murmur back and he’s treated to his first glimpse of uncertainty as your nose scrunches up a little at your repetition.

You gather yourself quickly and take a small step towards him - for half a second he thinks you might hug him or kiss his cheek or something which jesus christ, give him strength - but you simply reach a hand out to catch one of his, squeezing it gently before letting it drop as you step back towards the door. Eddie tries to ignore the way his heart pounds at the contact.

“Okay,” you say again, more to yourself than anything. “Bye, Eddie.”

Flashing him one last smile, you make your way out of the video store.

His belated, lovesick “bye” comes right as you cross the threshold to the outside world, and it’s only the amused grin you flash over your shoulder that lets him know you heard it.

Fuck.

Eddie rubs a hand over his mouth as he stares after you.

I’m so screwed.

requests are open but no promises i just go where the inspo takes me

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #pretty little loserboy #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x you

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month

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3 Times Sabatino Thought About Proposing and the 1 Time He Did - Part One: Adjustment Period - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader (feat: Marty Deeks)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds @whateversomethingbruh @trublu2u @stelacole

Sabatino’s been home for almost eight months when he decides it’s time to pop the question, he’s been carrying the ring around with him for twice as long, ever since he’d seen it in a jewellers in Sri Lanka. Silver and sapphires had always been your favourite and when he’d laid eyes on it he had known it would be perfect for you.

It’s taken some time to adjust to life outside of the CIA. Working with the US Marshals is great, he actually loves the job, and the thing is he’s good at it. It isn’t tracking down terrorists in Afghanistan, but he sees the difference it makes on a grass roots level.

The thing he struggles with is the free time. On mission you’re alert, always in the midst of something. In LA his time is his own and he finds himself with an abundance of it.

“It’s normal.” Michelle tells him when they have breakfast together. “When you’re in the field, the adrenaline is constant, your senses heightened, waiting for the next thing, you’ve learned to live in that state of mind. Right now, you just need to take a breath and relax. Reconnect with who you were before all of this, create a new path.”

It’s easier said than done because Sabatino’s been part of the Agency since his early twenties, he was a different man back then. Now he’s seen too much shit, done too much shit.

The one thing that hasn’t changed is his love for music, he realises that as he strolls through Hollywood, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. He can feel the creativity thrumming through him as he walks his old haunts, his fingers itching to play as he ticks off the places he’s gigged at.

When he finds himself standing outside his old recording studio, he’s surprised to see it’s still standing. He can’t help himself; he steps inside and it’s like a blast from the past, the sights, the sounds, even the smell. When he sees his ex-band mate Jimmy T behind the desk, it’s like a piece of him has come home because this man used to be his best friend back in the day and that bond, it’s still there even after all these years.

They catch up while Jimmy gives him the tour. He bought the place a decade ago when Alonso retired. He’s been putting out records ever since, upgrading the facilities. He runs programs for kids, teaching them how to make music and produce it.

“You’ve done wonders with the place.” He tells Jimmy, his fingertips playing across the buttons on the sound desk.

“I’ve got some time if you want to jam.” Jimmy says indicating to the instruments he’s set up for the session musicians.

He does have the time he realises, there’s nowhere else he needs to be. He isn’t waiting for a source to get back to him or tracking down a terrorist, there’s just him right there in there in the moment. For the first time he allows himself to exist in the present.

They spend the afternoon, playing their old songs, improvising new ones. It feels good to stretch those muscles again. When he leaves in the early hours of the evening, he feels revitalised, his throat raw from singing and the pads of his fingers tender from the guitar.

It becomes a regular thing and before he knows it, he’s gigging again a couple of times a month. He’s forgotten how good it feels to perform, the exhilaration of it. When he sees you in the crowd, he finds himself grinning because you gave him this, the courage to quit the CIA, the space to figure out who he is without it. He’s a musician at heart, he always has been.

He’s in the truck with Deeks working a joint case with NCIS, when the conversation turns to proposals. Deeks is filling him in on the wedding he missed last year during his time away, when Sabatino asks how he proposed. He’s been carrying the ring around a while now and he keeps getting that feeling, the one where he wakes up and looks over at you and thinks “I want to do this for the rest of my life.” He ends up showing it to Deeks and before he knows it the two of them are brainstorming proposal ideas.

“First date?” Deeks prompts, tearing open a pack of M&Ms and setting them down on the dashboard to share with the other man because as far as he’s concerned proposal planning requires snacks.

“Stake out during the Sidorov case.” Sabatino says, shaking his head. “We planned a second date for the next night but then Snyder was killed, and I had to go back to Washington... I thought we’d missed our moment.”

Deeks can understand that, it had been a turbulent time. Snyder’s death had impacted Sabatino more than he had let on at the time. The other man had lost a partner, he hasn’t had one since.

“First time?”

“Ah… Christmas Day in Afghanistan.” Sabatino says fondly, thinking back to the event. “Dinner was bearded vulture, and the wine was boxed. Sorta had to work with what I had.”

“Not something we want to emulate, got it.” Deeks says, ticking it off his mental checklist. “First, I love you?”

“Choking on my blood in the back of that chopper.” Sabatino reminds him as opens the glove box in search of more snacks. “But it was in Armenian so I’m not sure it counts.”

“That’s what you were saying? I thought the gunshot had just messed up something in your brain.” Deeks utters as he pops an M&M into his mouth. “What about when she said I love you?”

“I was sequestered in a hospital in Germany, recovering from said gunshot wound." Sabatino informs the other man, pulling out a packet of Gummi Bears. “She wrote me a letter in Pasto and slipped it into my belongings.”

“You two are weirdly romantic, it’s an odd vibe but I’m kind of digging it.” Deeks says as he withdraws his phone from his pocket and begins to type. “I say we go for ambiance since all your special moments involve foreign countries and boxed wine. Fatima has a hook up at this sweet new place called Elixir, great food, very intimate. They have an amazing rooftop terrace, great for a lowkey, romantic proposal.”

He hands the phone to Sabatino, allowing the other man to review the images on their Instagram. He isn’t wrong, it’s an exclusive restaurant up in Beverly Hills, plush green plants, elegant lighting. It’s the exact type of place you love.

Sabatino smiles as he hands the phone back to Deeks.

“It’s perfect.”

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#ncis la #erik palladino #sabatino x you #sabatino x reader #sabatino #ncis los angeles #Vostanik Sabatino #Vostanik Sabatino x reader #Vostanik Sabatino x you

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carneirinha · 4 months

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two birds with one stone

written for the 2023 carrie holiday fic exchange and for @scary-white!! hope you enjoy!!

sue comes up with the idea of going to the prom with one of tommy's friends so that both she and carrie can enjoy it, a decision that ends up saving her classmates' lives. (light carrie/sue/tommy. everybody lives and has a good time, novel accurate, etcetera :3)

Sue straightened the neckline of her dress, beginning to think that the polyester lace in her dress that she could feel brush against her skin so routinely would give her further troubles. There wasn’t much to focus on while inside the car, and all she could do at this point was hope that this wouldn’t be too overwhelming for the poor girl Tommy waited for at the door.

The two had made out outside the car, before picking anyone else up for the ride, like a kiss goodbye before they began things. That night, there would be no affection. Sue found it fair that way.

(wonder how theyll look together)

She had to admit, she wasn’t as much of a Christ figure as she thought she’d be on such an occasion: She caved in. One sunny sunday, two days after she’d hatched her plan, she called Tommy in his landline, and, after waiting for a minute or two for his mom to go ‘fetch him’, she asked a simple question: “Do you have any friends who don’t have a date for the prom?”

It wasn’t too selfish, she convinced herself. In a way, she’d just been giving another person the chance to experience a once-in-a-lifetime event that had been so widely discussed the entire year. But, ah, she was lying if she didn’t say she didn’t half do it just to listen to the bands playing, half slow music, half rock, feel the golden spotlight lights softly hit her hair, be absorbed by the overabundance of glitter cut out stars and crepe paper covering everything. This wasn’t just about herself

(she hoped she sure hoped she wasnt making it so)

but it was played out, in a way, so all would come out winning in the end. How bad could that possibly be?

After a few seconds of no answer, she felt like she had to jump in, explain herself further. “I’ve been thinking. You take Carrie. I take one of your friends with no date, I know you have at least one. We can spend the night together, Carrie will get to… well, have fun, and you’ll even be able to bring a buddy along…”

Tommy finally answered after what seemed like eternity, first with a chuckle, then “We’re doing the long haul, huh? I like your plan, though.” The guy he eventually settled on was Rodrick Wilson, a quarterback that, while mostly put as an emergency third, Tommy had an amicable relation with: “He’s really a nice guy if you get to talk to him, but, since he doesn’t talk much to girls, none of them wanted to ask him out and neither did he think of anyone,” he explained.

Susan, feeling like she had finally dropped a boulder that she’d been carrying before making the call, replied, “I’ll ask him when I see him.” and, as an addition, said “Thank you. I love you.” This time, the first sentence came out naturally, almost gleefully, like a child who’d gotten candy.

Tommy took a few moments to reply, taken aback. “I love you too.”

Neither had been this emotionally intimate before planning for the senior prom.

Sue’s proposal, on a rather slow and cloudy Tuesday, had gone a lot more smoothly than Tommy's had… or at least she liked to imagine it so. As Rod - how he was often called - sat down for the class that the two shared, she walked up to him and said, in the most casual, non-committal way she could manage, “If you don’t have a date, would you like to go to prom with me?”

The boy, who Sue noted had hair that appeared to be growing into what was meant to be a mullet but didn’t quite reach that point, cocked his head back in a lighthearted laugh that indicated he somewhat knew about what she and Tommy had been up to,

(oh god this was a bad idea)

then nodded and said, “Yeah, sure thing.” And that was the last of it. Sue went to her seat and class began as normal, surprised that at least half of the plan seemed to have gone well.

What was tough to endure, however, was the surprise that some made clear. Lots of people, of course, weren’t surprised and caught on to what was happening. But the ones that were, mostly girls, seemed to almost react to the rumours as if what the two had done was an impossible feat. One of these, of course, was Helen Shyres, when the Decoration Committee worked on the prom mural in the gym. “You and Tommy are going, right?”

“Yes,” Sue replied, as she painted a gorgeous sunset with orange coloured chalk. She made sure that it would be the most gorgeous Spring Ball that would ever exist. “but not together.”

Helen stopped drawing and the two looked at each other in silence, like Susan had just mentioned something unthinkable and profane. “Can I ask you about it, Sue? God, everyone’s talking.”

Sue stopped drawing. “Of course.” She put the chalk down and tried to beat off excess chalk from her hands, which were bright orange at this point. “I suppose I ought to tell someone. Tommy asked Carrie, so that she’ll get out of her own head a little, and I asked Rod because he just wanted to go but had no one to take him.”

There was a bit of an awkward silence, so, once more, she felt as if she should add some information to explain herself. “We’re still going to be together and have fun. We’ll even sit at the same table. We’re just wanting others to have fun, too. Besides… I owe Carrie this much.”

And, then, as she saw Carrie get inside Tommy’s Ford 1963, sitting next to her on the backseat, face half giddier than she had ever seen her before or ever, and half mortified, Sue couldn’t help but notice for the first time that she wasn’t hideous as people made her out to be. In fact, as they drove around in his car, street lamps casting shadows and illuminating her face all at once, she was quite gorgeous.

Her dark blonde hair, that she usually saw frizzy and styled for practicality, laid around her pale shoulders like a curtain. Her round face now seemed to be positively glowing, in a way, and even her dark eyes had more of a shine. Her full lips, she noted, were highlighted with a peach-coloured lipstick that suited her just right. Her figure, usually hidden away by cardigans and long skirts, was now accentuated - in almost every way, even if Sue didn’t quite pay attention to those things - by the beautiful, simplistic, dark red dress that she wore.

All she could say was, “Hi... Did Tommy tell you how stunning you look already?” Tommy, upon hearing that, seemed to smile and slightly nod, while driving. Carrie replied, timidly, “Yes, he did.” He didn’t lie.

The air in the gymnasium that night smelled heavily like synthetic fabrics, hairspray and crepe paper, but Sue didn’t mind. She was right, making the decision to still go to prom was worth it in her mind. She sat, with a glass of fruit punch, mostly people watching: It was a habit she often liked to do, especially in moments with as many people as this. The Honor Society had just begun collecting the votes for run off voting for Prom King and Queen, and, in some faces, she saw nervousness and anticipation for something, in others, boredom and contempt as their fellow students snatched the ballots from their hands.

Most importantly, her attention was redirected back to her table. They’d all collectively voted for Tommy Ross and Carrie White, as, when Tommy exclaimed, “Let’s vote for ourselves. To the devil with false modesty!”, Carrie laughed and

(oh she sounded cute)

immediately after, Susan followed with a lighthearted “Gee, I’m voting for you two as well. I just can’t compete like this.” When she looked over to her prom date’s ballot, he seemed to have done the same. Carrie giggled, before accidentally hurting herself with a splinter from her pencil after voting for herself. Susan’s eyes widened, but as Tommy began to comfort her, she couldn’t help but zone out as she figured things would probably be alright. He’d been treating her well the entire night.

She looked up. It wasn’t particularly remarkable: a regular gymnasium ceiling, but, if anything, she was drawn to it because of how unremarkable it was compared to how flashy the entire building looked, a sore for the eyes despite its beauty, what with the bright lights.

And then she noticed something.

There were two buckets above the lights that illuminated the stage.

Chris had gotten inside the gym during the Prom Committee decoration, and, as Sue’s mood soured as she watched her talk to Tina Blake - of course, the two were as close as they could get -, a question arose in her mind. “Helen?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are they going to do something?”

Helen’s face seemed to somewhat distort itself, and, like an actor in a play, she replied, sweetly, “I don’t know.” Overinnocent.

“Oh.” Sue replied curtly, taking note.

(you know you know something: accept something goddammit if it's only yourself tell me)

The two went back to colouring.

She hadn’t seen those buckets there before, though it could have just been a small detail that her brain left out. Why wouldn’t it? As she examined it more, however, she couldn’t help but notice how out of place they were.

It was then she noticed the rope and the pulley set up near them, looking like a strange Rube Goldberg machine, that she remembered not seeing them before. It could be confetti or something equally obnoxious of the sort, but, if it were, she would have seen it be set up by a classmate or two when aiding with decoration.

The rope led to underneath the stage, as she tracked it down, and it was then a familiar, but alien feeling creeped up. She didn’t worry the entire night about Chris and her kind showing up and doing something, but it was then that the feeling hit her once more, like a sharp chest pain.

“Excuse me,” she said, as she got up from her seat, looking at Tommy who looked back at her with a confused look on his face. “I have to see something.” She slowly walked towards the side of the stage, trying to avoid bumping into Tina Blake and Norma Watson, who shined with pride and walked around collecting the votes like hyperactive ants.

When she did, she then noticed there seemed to be at least some sound coming from under the stage, muffled by the dark mint faux leather curtains that seemed to have been there since 1954. That strange feeling overcame her once more, as if something was incredibly, terribly wrong, and she pulled the stage upholstery up.

(thats hargensen i knew it i fucking knew it)

Blood rained down on the empty thrones, without anyone to crown.

#hooray! this is the first time i'm making a fanfic of mine public!#this was a total delight 2 write!#recovered floppy disk #carrie #carrie stephen king #carrie white #sue snell #carrie/sue/tommy

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weirdducky17 · 6 months

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Doing a small review for June’s Observation Log on The Ssum by Cheritz!!

Please note that:

• I have not played Teo or Harry’s routes yet, June was my first ever match and plan to stick with him!!

• I am an extremely new player (only on Day 3 on him so far whilst writing this post) so please be aware that I don’t know much on how the routes go.

Onto the review!!!

June’s introduction:

When I got June as my match, I was unsure at first cause I usually don’t go for the first choice but said ‘why not?’ cause you never know with a character that was recommended to what you like! To be honest, I’m pleasantly surprised that I’m enjoying him so far!

Him being introduced as a person who’s been waiting for almost 2 years for their match, it’s enough to intrigue you as to why he’s been on this app for so long! Also having the description that he has a lot of secrets makes you curious to dive into what he’s been hiding from us.

June as a Character:

Personally, I love June’s personality. Always so polite and respectful yet also having that braveness when it comes to dealing with his mom, he’s such a baby boy 🥺

His excitement is conveyed extremely well through his texts, very expressive and carrying out that he’s high on this new relationship that has potential, it’s clear that he’s looking forward to a better relationship than his old one with his ex. His voice actor does an amazing job at voicing June, making him soft spoken and sincere in every word, keep up the amazing work!!

I also love the small bits at the bottom of the chat that give the small indications of his mannerisms when we’re waiting for a response from him, I thought that was a neat and cute way to show how much thought is put into the character!

Character Mysteries:

I’ve been wanting to look into more on June’s family background as he tends to brush off his mom cause it’s apparently very interesting so far, figuring out that Carolyn is Jumin’s mom as well which makes Jumin and June half-brothers!! A connection I never expected to say the least but it spices up the characters and ties into Mystic Messenger which gives the clue that we’re definitely from the same universe.

Also June’s biological dad not being supported by Carolyn? I wonder why he’s not more concerned about his dad but I’m guessing it’s cause he hasn’t been around much for June to get a close connection with to get a more expressive reaction when we talk about his dad.

Carolyn is also a mystery in of itself as she’s the only parental figure in his life and basically his caretaker, his life revolves around her but it also makes it relatable for me because of June’s experience with having an overbearing parent (which is borderlining on abuse) which has me worried for him :(

My overall thoughts:

I love June and I love his character so much, thank you @cheritzteam for making this special Ssum-one! He is a nice introduction to the game and would highly recommend picking him as your first ever route if people ever see this post lol. Thank you for reading this review and again, thank you for making June!!

#TheSsum_June_ObservationLog #the ssum #the ssum x reader #the ssum june #the ssum teo #the ssum harry #cheritz #TheSsum

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lena-too-cool · 1 year

Text

The Start

A/N: Hey guys I know it’s been a while, and by a while I mean 6 months. I’ve been busy but I’m back now, this is the start to a series for all the Coco Cruz lovers. If you are return hey if you are new welcome, I hope you all like this it’s just a start.

It was hot. This cheap Toyota Camry would make it much longer, I had it for over 5 years so that wasn’t really surprising. it just needed to make it to the house, we had come so far, and I knew the move was hard on ty. I looked into the revue mirror to the 3-month-old sitting in the small gray booster seat, his head was slightly leaned to the side as his eye remained closed. Ty was my sister’s world so when she passed, and the deadbeat father was nowhere to be found I knew I had to step up. I couldn’t stay in Seattle as much as I wanted to, after a bad break off with an ex who didn’t want to grow up. It was time to move on to bigger and better things. That's how I ended up driving in the blistering heat, towards Santo Padre after buying a modest house that needed a little TLC.

A little TLC isn’t what this house needs, more like a wrecking ball or bulldozer. The paint on the house was chipped giving it the illusion that it was abandoned, and the overgrowth of vines going up the side only aided in that assumption. I was hoping and praying that the inside wasn’t a total mess, or I would have to come up with a new place to move. The hard brown wooden floors looked like they needed to be polished but that was it, the living room was painted a nice eggshell blue. I toured the rest of the house and found that it isn’t in that bad of shape.

I spent most of my free time taking care of Ty or looking for a job. The process was a long and strenuous one. I finally found one at a bar down the road called Owen’s, it was owned by an older man. I was a bartender, the pay was good, but the tips were even better. It was a Friday night which meant the bar was going to be packed, sometimes we had the odd customer that we had to kick at other than that everything was good. I was drying off the table when a large group of men walked in, they were all wearing leather jackets that had patches all over them.

The patches on the back read “Mayans M.C. Southern Cali.”, most of the customers made way for the group as they settled towards the back of the bar. I finish up the tables and head back to the bar to start serving drinks again, I look at my co-worker Sofia. Sofia was a kind woman who stood among all the rough looking people in the bar. Her black hair stopped at her shoulders, and her dark- brown eyes were almost the color of black. Though now she looked nervous for some inexplicable reason. “Um, are you okay, you look like you're going to puke.” I quickly as Sofia, moves her head from side to side quickly indicating no.

“Y/n I have to go I can’t finish my shift; will you be alright by yourself”. Before I can even question what’s going on, she’s already running for the back and out the door. The neon flashing lights were causing me a serious headache, as I contemplated if I should call Mr. Owen’s or not. I was drawn-out of my head when someone clears their throat, I look up to see a man with short wavy hair that stopped at his neck in front of me. I quickly try to get myself together.

“Sorry about that I was in my own head, what can I get for ya.” I try to plaster a friendly smile on my face, but I’m guessing it looks fake because the guy continues to stare at me for a while before shaking his head with a smirk playing on his lips. That’s the night that I met Johnny Cruz. though he would prefer if I called him coco.

#coco cruz x reader #coco cruz #mayans mc #x reader #mayans imagine #coco cruz x black!reader #coco cruz x black reader

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nojey · 3 years

Text

finally

feral boys x streamer!reader (separate)

genre: fluff, crack

warning(s): none

synopsis: the feral boys finally meet their favorite streamers

dreamwastaken / clay

word count: 407

the day you met dream, you were on the phone with your best friend george, also known as georgenotfound

he was speedrunning on stream while you were on a discord call with him

his viewers knew who you were, not only because you were george’s best friend but also because you were a streamer too

you weren’t a big one but well known for how well you play battle box in mcc

george was about to end his stream after an unsuccessful speed run when he asked you something

“you know dream right?”

“yeah, of course, he’s one of your other best friends” you answered

“are you okay with me adding him to the call?” he asked you.

“uh sure, but aren’t you gonna end stream?”

“no, i will after this.” he giggled

“why? are you trying to embarrass one of us?” you asked him suspiciously.

“you don’t have to worry about that.”

you heard a ding from discord, indicating that someone joined your voice chat

“hello? dream?” george asked.

“george. why? why are you doing this to me?” dream asked.

“hi dream,” you smiled.

“uh, hi. hi (y/n).”

“george why did you add me to the call?” he asked george.

“well, i know how much you like watching their stream. and considering you’re both my best friends, why not introduce you! perfect right? anyways. i’m gonna end my stream now. let’s raid karl. and you two can talk to each other. bye now!” he left the call so now it was just you and dream in the vc

it really warmed your heart that someone with such a big platform liked watching your streams since it had been quite hard to gain a following since you started streaming

“hi dream,” you said once again

he sighed. “hi (y/n).” “i really didn’t want him to do that, i didn’t want this to be the first time we meet, you know. i just love watching your streams so much and i wanted it to, honestly, be in person. but you know, george does what he thinks he shou-”

“it’s okay dream, i’ve actually been looking forward to meeting you, considering you’re also one of george’s best friends. but i do agree, he does tend to do whatever he puts his mind to.”

after you calmed his nerves, his conversation skills skyrocketed and the conversations flowed very easily

you guys spent the rest of the night talking

georgenotfound / george

word count: 326

being a minecraft streamer and a hypebeast got you some recognition

you were a hypebeast model on instagram and when you had announced you started streaming minecraft on twitch you had grown pretty easily

it didn’t take you time before you were invited to join mcc

not just because you had a big following but because you were actually really good at playing

since you didn’t really know any other mc streamers you got placed in a group with people you had never met

their names were Ph1lzA, WilburSoot, and GeorgeNotFound

the first time you talked to them, they welcomed you with open arms and we so nice

“hi (y/s/n)! i’m philza but you can just call me phil,” he introduced.

“hi phil!” you responded.

“i’m wilbur, is this gonna be your first mcc?” wilbur asked.

“yeah, it is. i’m actually really nervous.” you laughed a bit, to get the nerves out.

“ah okay, well no worries. we were all beginners before. don’t worry about trying to score high, just have fun!” phil assured.

“we’re just waiting for one other person and we’ll get started on the practice.” phil continued.

“okie dokie,” you said. you put yourself on mute and wiped the sweat off your hands on your pants.

“hello, hello, sorry i’m late. had trouble starting the server.” you heard.

“well nice of you to join us george.” wilbur said.

“yeah, yeah. hi philza, hi wilbur, hi (y/s/n)- wait, (y/s/n)??” he stuttered

“hi george?,” you said softly.

“oh my god, i’ve watched your streams before, they’re really cool. i enjoy watching them.” he rambled.

you giggled

“well thank you,” you said, still giggling a little.

for the rest of the day you all practiced, everyone giving you pointers, but george watching carefully to make sure you understood the pointers you were getting

and if you didn’t then he knew to tell you which part you were kind of misunderstanding

sapnap

word count: 398

you met sapnap long before you became a streamer

you were a big fan of sapnap

and one day you ran into him in public

it was a short interaction but it really meant a lot to you

so you asked for a picture to remember the moment by

after you took the picture you said your goodbyes and you were extremely excited

a few weeks after than interaction you had made the decision to start streaming

you were thinking about becoming one for a long time and after meeting sapnap you made your decision

because you wanted to be the type of person sapnap was to you

and be a person someone looked up to and meet people that felt the way about you that you feel about sapnap

you’d been a streamer for a few months when you got a raid from sapnap himself

his viewers were suggesting he raided you so he did

you freaked out, you gained a small following and the fact that sapnap decided to raid you? amazed

but what you didn’t know was that he kept watching you

after he saw how appreciative you were he wanted to watch more and he got intrigued

so he followed you and started watching your streams almost every time you streamed whenever he wasn’t busy

after about 2 years of streaming you got a very big following

your supporters were stalking your twitter and found the picture of you and sapnap when you both met

they then began to repost it on twitter tagging the both of you

you saw it and replied, “LMAO i look so small. but big shoutout to sapnap for raiding me as a small streamer and making all this possible <3″

he saw your reply and his eyes went big

HE MET YOU BEFORE!??

he then proceeded to respond to your tweet, “we’ve met before??”

and it went back and forward

“yeah, it was before i was a streamer, we met at like.. the grocery store lol”

“i literally had no idea you were a fan of me”

“yup, i’ve been for the past 3 years”

“dude after i raided you i started watching your streams and you became my favorite streamer”

“well,, you’re still my favorite streamer ;)”

after that sapnap dmd you asking if you guys could meet in person again

and who could pass up that offer

karl jacobs

word count: 510

you and karl met at twitchcon

you had recently become a big streamer and this was your 2nd time going to twitchcon

1st time having a meet and greet

meeting your supporters meant so much to you

you finally get to give each of them a hug, and it may not be all of them but seeing this many people come out to meet you meant more than anyone could imagine

but being at twitchcon also meant you could meet your streamer friends

which made everything 10x more exciting

you decided to meet up with your friend, valkyrae and you guys were going to a creator party

when you finally got to see her you gave her a huge hug that lasted a while because it was the first time you were meeting in person

once you both reached the venue of where the party was being held you all met up with your other friends. you hadn’t met any of them in person but rae had

you saw sykkuno, lily, michael, toast, and a few other people and smiled really big, excited to see all of them

you finally got to them and pulled them into a group hug

“you guys!! oh my god it feels so good to finally meet all of you!” you said.

“it’s nice to meet you in person, (y/n).” sykkuno said smiling at you

you let go of the hug and remembered everyone else that they were with

“hi! i’m (y/s/n) but you can just call me (y/n),” you said with a smile.

“this is karl, poki, and scarra.” toast introduced.

you saw karl and poki whispering to each other while you got into a conversation with everyone else.

poki coughed and said, “hey guys! don’t we have to go to that thing, right? that thing.” hinting at something, looking between you and karl.

you’re pretty sure everyone caught on and they all agreed.

“oh yeah! that thing!”

“yeah, we should probably go!”

“yup, don’t wanna be late to that thing.”

you looked at them with an unimpressed look as they walked away, looking behind their shoulders to see you and karl standing there.

“hi, i’m-i’m karl, i’m sorry about that. i just told poki that you’re like literally my favorite streamer and i guess she wanted us to talk more? i don’t know, but it’s really nice to meet you.” karl said.

you laughed as you quickly understood your friends weird behavior

“yeah, you raided me a few times- thank you for that by the way. it helped me a lot in growing my fanbase and i don’t think i’d be where i am if you hadn’t raided me.” you smiled at him. he beamed and smiled back at you.

“yeah, no, it was no problem. like i said you’re literally my favorite streamer and being able to help you with that is absolutely insane to me.”

for the rest of the party, your friends could see both of you talking the night away

and maybe even dance together

quackity

word count: 428

finding out what to do for stream was kinda hard when pretty much all your friends were busy

but then you got a text from karl, asking if you wanted to play jackbox with him and a few friends

you accepted, knowing you wouldn’t have anything else to stream

in the lobby it would be you, karl, dream, sapnap and a few other people you didn’t know

when it was finally time to play, you started up your stream and introduced what you’d be playing that night

“hey guys, welcome welcome, welcome. today i’m gonna be playing jackbox with karl, dream, sapnap, and a few other of karls friends.”

you joined the vc and immediately heard a lot of boys talking very loudly

you let out a small, “hello?”

somehow everyone heard you and stopped talking

“(y/n)!” karl yelled out.

dream and sapnap let out a “hi, (y/n)” and you said hello back.

“hi everyone, i’m (y/s/n) but you all can call me (y/n)” you introduced yourself.

eveyrone else said hi and introduced themselves

you found out you were playing with quackity, wilbur, tommy, and techno too

during mad verse city karl was going against quackity and his rap went something like this

“you talk so weird, i’m gonna need translator, next time (y/n)’s here they’re gonna be a hater, because your big crush on them i’ll see ya later”

your mouth was wide open while all the boys started teasing quackity

“what the fuck! i don’t have a crush on them!”

quackity ended up losing that one.

after the game and you ended you stream you asked quackity to stay

“hi quackity,” you said, with an energetic voice

“... hey, (y/n)”

“sooo, was what karl said true?” you asked.

“mm not necessarily. it’s not that i have a crush on you. you’re.. just my favorite streamer and you know. this is the first time i’m meeting you and i was telling all of them that i’m nervous because i’ve never talked to you before and i think you’re a great streamer and that you put out really funny content and i didn’t wanna embarrass myself but. karl did that for me.” he rambled

you giggled

“i think that’s really cute. thank you for supporting me. you can dm me on twitter or discord if you ever wanna play sometime.” you told him and left the vc.

you then saw all the boys you were playing with pile into the vc and you could only imagine what they were talking about.

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astrobydalia · 3 years

Text

🌸OBSERVATIONS!! (finally lmao)🌱

Credit: Tumblr blog @astrobydalia

It's been a long time coming! So happy for spring being finally here! Here's the long ass observation post you guys asked for. Since it's quite a big amount of observations, I've decided it'd be a good idea to number them so that it's easier to reference them. As always, enjoy them!

🌸 1. Lilith in the 2nd house can indicate something fishy going on with the relationship between the native’s parents.

🌱 2. Malefic placements such as pluto, chiron, Saturn or Lilith in the 12th indicates a lot of skeletons in the closet when it comes to family and family history

🌸 3. Chiron in Aries/1st house or Leo/5th house is kind of bitch placement. The person basically feels like they can’t be themselves and there’s a lot of self-denial and/or not accepting themselves, how they really are, what they really want, etc. Lots of self-esteem issues

🌱 4. People with sexual placements in the 2nd house (Mars, Venus, Lilith, Eros, ruler of the 8th house) base their self-worth on how sexually attractive they are. If they don't feel sexually desirable to everyone, they feel like they're shit

🌸 5. Lilith is what people think Pluto/Scorpio is!!!! All that stuff about magnetic, sexual and intoxicating but dangerous? Lilith.

🌱 6. Scorpio/Pluto in 4th could mean that the person had to work hard to survive something growing up. It could be poverty, their parents’ expectations, an early trauma, etc. Whatever the situation is, the native felt like they grew up in a high-stress environment where they had to endure and survive

🌸 7. When it comes to degrees, the higher the degree, the bigger or stronger the effect. For example Leo degrees (5º, 17º, 29º) are fame degrees. 5th degree would give small fame, 17th degree would be normal and significant fame or recognition inside the person’s field and 29th degree is moreso widespread or permanent fame

🌱 8. Saturn in the 5th house is a huge indicator of turning your hobby into your job. Also these people can be very awkward in their personality

🌸 9. I’ve noticed people with Neptune in the 6th (maybe 2nd) house may have been hospitalized and if Uranus or Pluto are placed here also indicates getting surgery or operations for health reasons

🌱 10. People with Uranus or Pluto in the 1st, 2nd or conjunct the ASC could get surgery due to aesthetic reason

🌸 11. Mercury dominant people (or strong Gemini energy in the chart) like to have or get things quick and easy. For example they prefer a straight forward summary over an in-depth and elaborated explanation with too many details

🌱 12. Your moon sign shows how you see your past. Your 4th house represent how you see your childhood. But your moon represents under which light you always view your past and everything that has happened in your life in general. It also shows the type of stuff from your past you tend to focus on. Since Cancer and Pisces represent past and remenaicence, that's why Cancer and Pisces moons have trouble getting over the past.

🌸 13. Your 10th house on the other hand is how you see your future. Whenever someone asks you “where you see yourself in 5 years?” your 10th house is the one that’ll be answering that question

🌱 14. Gemini moon/mars are the LEAST likely to hold grudges (unless chart says otherwise)

🌸 15. The house where you have your Neptune indicates the themes you tend to lie about, don’t give much info, say stuff about it that are misleading etc. and in consequence people might not have a clear/correct idea of this part of your life

🌱 16. Virgo risings rarely or basically never pose for pictures. They just look straight forward to the camera, sometimes smile and maybe make a small gesture like putting one hand in their pocket or tilt their head but that’s it. (Virgo = minimalism)

🌸 17. Scorpios really don’t give a single fuck they just DON’T 😭💀 Remember this sign is all or nothing, they either care too or don't care AT ALL

🌱 18. I said it once and I’ll say to a hundred times more: Geminis are not two-faced, it’s LIBRA!! Seriously Libras are the FAKEST people I’ve ever met. Why? Because it's ruled by the planet of love (Venus), which means Libra has a knack for being liked by everyone and making everyone feel liked. HOWEVER Libra is an AIR sign and air represents mind, NOT feelings. In conclusion, Libra can make you feel "loved" (venus) and still not give a damn about you bc its air nature makes them prone to emotional detachment. That's why they are able to roast you and make it look like they're complimenting you, specially when they have Scorpio mercury.

🌸 19. Just like you look at where’s the ruler of your rising sign to get more info on your rising, check the ruler of your Sun sign for more info on your personal identity (check sign and house). For ex. I have Virgo Sun in the 9th. Ruler of Virgo=Mercury. I have mercury in Libra in the 10th house which makes me more serious (10th house) and diplomatic/people pleaser (Libra)

🌱 20. If you found that you “couldn’t” do what’s previously described because you’re a Leo sun, check the degree and decan of your Sun

🌸 21. I’ve noticed mercury retrograde people are the type of individuals who always know exactly the right things to say. You’ll always see them take a couple of seconds before answering but they tend to give very good responses

🌱 22. I’ve noticed many women with Virgo Venus/Sun/MC/Lilith have been slut-shamed at some point of their life or they’ve been seen as promiscuous/sexual/etc.

🌸 23. Capricorn moons are not emotionless machines. The thing with these natives is that their mothers treated them like an adult the second they came out of the womb, so basically they skipped the “love and affection” stage and went straight to the “grow up” stage, but they can love really hard and real deep (Capricorn is deep down a very sentimental sign). They are very ride or die people tbh, they are very patient, accepting and understanding

🌱 24. I've noticed that people at first deny their rising sign in Vedic astrology, but eventually they end up accepting it and they actually end up relating to it a lot. I feel like this is because our rising sign in Vedic astrology is usually the sign of our 12th house in Western astrology, which leads me to believe that our 12th house sign is not our shadow side but more like our deep subcontious personality and that's why we have a hard time accepting it when we see it as our rising sign in Vedic astrology. It's like your rising sign (in western) is the director of the play but your 12th house is the energy that previously wrote the script

🌸 25. So many celebrities have moon in the 11th house. Also this placement indicates that you had a mother that put you out there constantly like posting everything about you on social media, bringing you to big events or your mom was “famous” in some capacity

🌱26. Gemini risings tend to believe everything they are told. More specifically, once they find someone that knows a little bit more than them they’ll believe everything they teach them and will most likely rely on them intellectually, for advice, guidance, etc. This is bc they have DSC in Sagittarius which makes them see the people they associate with as masters and mentors while, as a Gemini rising, they identify as an apprentice.

🌸27. Both 8th house and 12th house have been associated with secrets. The different is that the 8th house represents what you CONTIOUSLY and deliberately hide from others and most likely deny to yourself (or not, depends on the person). 12th house on the other hand represents subconscious, things that are hidden even from you and you didn’t even know were hidden. 4th house is not necessarily secrets, it represents privacy, like when people have a sanctuary to just relax, unwind and feel secure, that’s the 4th house.

🌱28. Sun or Moon in the 4th house will make you a sociable but private person.

🌸29. Sun or moon in the 8th house will make you an intriguing and mysterious person.

🌱30. Sun or moon the 12th house makes you a very elusive or wishy-washy person

🌸31. I’ve seen many Scorpio sun/moon/mars/rising individuals obsessed with the idea of being prepared for a catastrophe. They could be the type to, for example, have some saved cash just in case something bad happens with their bank money, have a backup account just in case their main one gets deleted, could have a “leave before you get left” philosophy, etc.

🌱32. Is it just me or the astro community talks a lot about Aries moons???

🌸33. I’ve noticed people with 4th house in Virgo could have been raised in a very judgemental household where there was lots of taboos and prejudice as to what’s right and what’s not and the family was too preoccupied with a perfect and immaculate reputation. For example could have been raised with values such as “only criminals wear tattoos” or “you should stay celibate till marriage or else you’re a whore”, etc. and if the native broke those rules they could have been very criticized and almost loathed by the family. They native could have been highly criticized in general by their family

🌱34. I’ve noticed women that have their moon harshly aspecting Pluto, Uranus and Mars or overall have a very afflicted moon tend to have very painful period cramps

🌸35. Something I have noticed with Venus or Moon conjunct Saturn people is that the concept of unconditional love sounds like alien language to them. That of course doesn’t mean they can’t love but they have this deep belief that they have to achieve something in order to deserve love and stuff like that

🌱36. Also, I just noticed that people with Saturn conjunct sun/moon/Venus/ASC, Capricorn big 3 or Capricorn degrees in personal placements have gone through IT man, specially on an internal level. I've noticed going through depression is a common theme for people with this Capricorn/Saturn influence

🌸37. Virgo Suns could often struggle to find balance between having healthy ego and being humble.

🌱38. Also people with Virgo+Leo energy are the MOOOOST judgmental people out there. Imagine ego mixed with a sense of knowing what’s correct. They tend to believe they’re morally superior and easily liable people as inferior

🌸39. The underdeveloped energy of a sign asimilates negative traits of its sister sign. For example underdeveloped Virgo is overly perfectionist and judgmental to the point where they have unrealistic expectations (Pisces)

🌱40. On the other hand the developed version of a sign is balanced out by understanding its sister sign. For example Leo knows they are unique and special and deserves recognition but understands everyone is also unique in their own way (Aquarius)

🌸41. I’ve noticed a person can very easily manifest the stereotypical characteristics of the sign that naturally rules the house where their chart ruler is. For example if someone’s chart ruler (ruler of the ASC) is in the 7th house the person can easily manifest stereotypical characteristics of Libra like being a people pleaser

🌱42. Sagittarius ASC/Mars people are all fun, amicable and outgoing.... until they don’t get their way. They will get away from people and situations that won’t give them what they want and they can genuinely dislike people solely because those people don’t let them have their way. They tend to go around life like they have a free pass to get away with everything they want.

🌸43. People with ASC-Neptune aspects don’t have a very reliable vision of reality or themselves to be honest. I don’t know how people with this aspect haven’t lost their mind already. They are prone to subconsciously manipulating or easily getting manipulated. With hard aspects this is a lot more obvious but I’ve noticed with easy aspects this energy tends to go almost unnoticed and they easily get away with stuff

🌱44. Have seen many famous people with North node in the 2nd, 5th, 11th and 12th houses specially

🌸45. Air risings or air dominance with Sagittarius placements/degrees are people who love cartoons/animations/videogames regardless of their age.

🌱46. When I got into astrology I didn’t understand why Sun is in detriment in Libra, but oh man... All Libras I’ve met had HUGE issues with trusting themselves. They doubt themselves 24/7 and that’s not even an exaggeration and I’ve noticed they actually may have grown up doubting themselves for some reason or they had a family (their dad) that caused this feeling in them. Also I’ve seen that those Libras with Scorpio placements feel like they have to hide something about themselves otherwise they’ll be rejected. Yes they are endlessly charming, but that's because they have essentially created their personality around the desire of being liked/accepted. They always need to feel they have SOMEONE. Their sense of self, INDIVIDUALITY, independence and assertiveness is lost in the process. Unless they have fire and specially Aries placements to balance this out they can feel like they have no personality and that’s why they are often perceived as fake or shallow.

🌸47. Literally ALL Virgo placements one way or another will always suggest a way to solve your problems when giving emotional support

🌱48. I have a theory that, since 4th house is how you were raised, your home and your parents, your 10th house is how you’d be as a parent yourself and the type of home you’ll create yourself

🌸49. Contrary to my expectations, I’ve seen priests having a much more prominent 4th house (many times combined with 8th house/Scorpio energy) than 12th house. People with 12th house placements or stellium seem to prefer artistic fields rather than classic spirituality

🌱50. The house where you have your Pluto is a house you just can NOT take lightly EVER. This area of your life feels like a heavy topic to you in some way (you are either obsessed with it, find It traumatic, get extremely defensive over it, find it spiteful, you feel everything goes wrong, etc, etc.) Can also apply to the house where you have the sign of scorpio

🌸51. In synastry, Venus falling in the 12th house creates a healing dynamic in the relationship, the connection can feel cathartic specially for the house person. The house person might tend to always be comforted by the venus person’s support, always feel better (or even energetically “cleansed”) after being with them. The venus person never judges the house person and accepts them and is always willing to be there.

🌱52. I’ve noticed this pattern in people with mutable moons where they have absent mothers in some shape or form. Their mother is very inconsistent, she always comes and goes. Very often the native may have felt like their mother always “left them be” (virgo moon moms put restrictions but eventually are rather flexible)

🌸53. People with cardinal moons have bossy mothers. In many cases they can have the type of mother that is constantly making decisions for them, like their mother decides what/where they’re going to study for example (the house tells what type of things the mother tends to make decisions on).

🌱54. People with fixed moons have possesive and protective moms. While mutable moons have absent mothers, natives with fixed moons have mothers that are ALWAYS there in some shape or form. At the very least the influence of the mother is always there and they always have this sense of “loyalty” towards their mom.

Credit: Tumblr blog @astrobydalia

That's it for now, next observation post is just as long but much better, stay tuned and safe loves 💕

#astrology #astro #astro notes #astro observations #zodiac

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bastillewolf · 4 years

Text

Shinigami Eyes (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: After you distastefully kill Corpse in a game of Among Us, he wants you to make it up to him and invites you to come over for the week.

Notes: Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I’ve never gotten this many notes before. I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave an ask if you want to? I can’t promise I have time to do them, but I’ll pick out a couple.

Also, I might rewrite this. I kinda rushed it because I wanted to finish it by tonight, but there will be a final and third chapter to this afterwards. Please do let me know what you think.

Tag list CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Pt. II

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

You were teamed up with Sean.

Your fist violently slammed down on the desk. “Goddammit! I don’t want to be impostor anymore! This game has no compassion for my poor nerves.” It was the third time in a row now, and you were really craving to do normal tasks now without all the scheming. “Fuck it, I don’t care if they kill me. I’m just gonna do my thing without thinking about it.”

You decide to follow Toast for a bit to watch him do some task. You kill him in Laboratory. You vent back to Launchpad and take your time walking towards MedBay while the kill button restores. You meet up with Corpse, and follow him while pretending to do wires in the Y-hallway. You watched the green bar go up, and continued. Sabotaging and then fixing lights, you made sure your place with Corpse was settled. Then the body of Lily was reported.

As you expected, Corpse easily vouched for you as he’d seen you do a task. The round was skipped, though Rae was sussed for ‘chasing’ Sean, by his own words.

“Corpse, you’ve grown weak,” you muttered to chat.

You were in Greenhouse, and decided it would be best to kill him there and sabotage Reactor. “Sorry baby, but I can’t keep following you around.” You quickly set off Reactor and murdered him in front of the plants. “Your blood shall keep the plants hydrated.” You did an evil laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, though.”

You vented down to MedBay and as you walked out you met up with Rae. She’d be the vouch who would confirm you weren’t anywhere near Greenhouse. “I’ll just have to fix my own sabotage so they’ll never suspect me.” You helped her with the handprint, and noted Sykkuno and Felix being there. Sean sabotaged lights, you killed Sykkuno, and ran out to follow Lily into Laboratory. Felix reported the body.

“Holy shit,” Rae gasped. So far, five people had died. You only needed to kill one more person. “It was Felix!”

“Wait, what?” the man in question asked. “I was fixing Reactor!”

She mentioned that only you, Sykkuno, Felix and herself had been there and that you’d helped her do handprint. “Sykkuno must have fixed it, and then you killed him!”

Sean asked if you’d seen anything.

“No, the lights were out. I followed Rae into Laboratory after the scan.” Your voice didn’t tremble or raise, a tactic you’d taken up from the best lair in the group. Well, the one who was now dead. Oops. “I haven’t seen Felix this entire game, though.”

He was evidently at a loss for words, so the group was quick to vote for him.

Pewds was ejected.

Victory.

You thanked Sean for a good game who was laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you did Corpse like that! Poor guy!”

“I deadass thought you were innocent,” Corpse replied, “I’m hurt.”

“Why do you still sound dark and menacing when you say something like that?!”

You agreed with Sean heartily, “He’s just salty I’ve bested him at his own game.”

“Hey now, no need to actually insult me.”

The group laughed. You decided to call it for the night, right before Corpse did the same.”

***

He was calling you again. “What is it this time, you salty?”

“Salty? Nah, never,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

“Then why you calling?”

“What, I can’t call my friends after playing a nice round of Among Us?”

“Not when you lost the game and you call the person who you lost to. Kinda sus, dude.”

“Alright, maybe a little salty.” You smirked.

“Aw, you need me to make it up to you?”

He laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

A bunch of thoughts, most not rated PG-13, crossed your mind. You were suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable. This was probably just something innocent, which got twisted in your fucked-up mind. You shrugged, “Uh… I don’t know.”

“I got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Come over this week. You said you needed a break, right?”

“That sounds more like you’re doing me a favour instead of me making it up to you.”

“I don’t have any friends. You’d be making it up to me by being the first physical person here in years. I usually don’t invite people over.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. So, you don’t consider me to be your friend after all?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Tell me that again when my presence suddenly brightens your life making you not want to get rid of me, ever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

You walk through the gates following a hoard of people, all the while still feeling drowsy from not getting any sleep during your flight. At least you didn’t have any turbulence and landed safely. Glancing around here and there with no result, you figured Corpse would be waiting outside, until you spotted a figure clad in black a little ends away by the escalator. You were glad you were still awake enough to have found him, because he appeared to silently linger halfway behind a fern.

At least, you hoped it was him. The only indications were his clothes, mask and dark hair. You saw him run a hand through it, and identified the chipped black nail polish and familiar rings. Oh yea, that was him alright.

He seemed to be paying more attention to the floor until he saw two feet appear in his line of sight. “Hey,” you awkwardly greeted. A bit taken a back, he replied, “Oh, wow. Hey.” A mask was covering the bottom of his face, but as far as you could see his eyes were a very dark shade.

“Wow?” you repeated. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yea, sorry. It’s a compliment.” You held your elbow out in a safe-distance gestured hello, but he shrugged you off. “You’re gonna be staying with me anyways.” Suddenly in a daze, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and instantly hugged him back. His baggy sweater felt warm and soft to the touch, and strands of hair tickled your face. You very much tried to repress your smile and blush, but how could you? Hugging someone wasn’t supposed to feel this good. When he pulled back he reached down to take your suitcase from you. “I don’t own a car, is it okay if we take a cab?”

“Y-Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “But it’s on me. Same with food and stuff.” “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “No, you’re letting me stay with you and a hotel would’ve been a lot more expensive than this. It’s my treat.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He gave you a look and even with the mask you could tell he was smirking underneath it.

It’s about half an hour drive to his apartment complex, and it’s rather nice. “All that YouTube money paying off, huh?” you asked in amusement. “You’d know,” he replied. You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the stairs yourself, which he silently shook his head at, until after a few flights he noticed you struggling and settled on carrying the thing in between the two of you. “How many clothes did you bring?” “Oh, it’s mostly filled with bricks I might need to throw at your head.” He laughed at that.

His apartment was simple, but cosy. “Home sweet home,” he said, almost sarcastically. You furrowed your brow at him. “I’m sure you could’ve had it a lot worse.” He reluctantly agreed.

He helped you set down your luggage in what appeared to be his bedroom, where the curtains were still closed and the black bedsheets fresh. He had a few pieces of fanart up on his wall, and some on his closet. You turned to him and gave him a look. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

He quickly shook his head, “You’re not sleeping there. If you won’t let me sleep on the couch I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he murmured. “What?” “Nothing.”

He suggested playing video games as you were both too tired to do anything else. You’d landed quite late yet were still confused about what time it actually was. Flying is weird. You hopped onto his couch and grabbed a controller.

He sat down next to you, but suddenly seemed tenser than before.

“You okay? You can just go to sleep if you want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I don’t sleep a lot. It’s fine.”

You didn’t stop looking at him, though. He was still wearing that mask. “You don’t have to take it off, if you don’t want to. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that, I just…” He took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected him to take it off then and there. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, controller barely held by your numb hands.

“Disappointed?”

It was as if he was expecting you to make a face or something, but you didn’t give him anything, except for a blatant “Nope” and an “Are we gonna play now or what?”

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

You shrugged, and looked him up and down again. “You’re kind of what I imagined you to be.”

“What’s that?”

“Handsome.”

Neither of you could stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You eventually forced him to sleep in his own bed, even going as far as to shove him into the room and keep your weight against the door so he couldn’t get out, so he eventually relented. “Inviting you here was a mistake.” “How come? All I’ve done so far is look after you!” “You’re a nightmare.”

You mostly stayed in for the week, which you didn’t mind at all. Being in such a closed-off environment with someone you got along with was nice. He attempted to get you to lift the weights in his room and succeeded for around fifteen minutes until you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot. You ordered take-out from his favourite restaurant, watched horror movies until you adapted to his sleeping schedule because you were too scared to close your eyes now, and even streamed a bit together with your friends.

“Wait, is Corpse with you?” Rae had asked.

“No, I’m at Corpse’s. He’s sitting across from me so I can’t see his screen but we’re gonna have to share the Discord unless you want to hear an echo.”

“Ah, man! You got to see his face, too?” Sykkuno whined.

“Stop simping, Sykkuno. You get enough attention from him already.”

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Corpse said.

“Huh?”

It was probably a good thing that you got teamed up again, because you could indeed start to see his hands shaking right as the word ‘impostor’ appeared on the screen. You reached over and stroked it with your thumb. He smiled gratefully back at you.

“Just please,” he pleaded later that day, “Sleep in the bed. If only for one night.”

“No. I’ve heard about and now seen your sleeping habits. If you take the couch you’re never going to get any sleep.” You made a real effort to show him how comfortable you were – even though your back had started to hurt already after the first night – by crawling underneath your blanket and rubbing your head into the soft pillow. He snorted.

Next thing, you feel yourself being lifted by an arm underneath your knees and one around your back. “Corpse! Put me the fuck down!” you shrieked. You knew he lifted weights, but how the hell did he still have the energy as an insomniac? He ungracefully dropped you onto the matrass and turned the lights off. “Good night.”

You quickly got hold of the back of his hoodie before he could leave and pulled. He fell down next to you with a low huff. “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed. But only if you sleep here too.”

“I snore.”

“Don’t care.”

For some reason, there wasn’t any tension or awkwardness. You were comfortable, and the soft rhythm of his breathing seemed to soothe you. He called out your name, to see if you were still awake.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time.”

This was how you would spend the rest of the nights, and whenever either of you woke up suddenly curled up around the other, you didn’t mention it or move away from it. It was the first time in years Corpse got a few nights of complete rest.

#corpse husband #Corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #youtube #youtube fanfiction #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye

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hurdlehoops · 3 years

Text

SPN did Market Research for Dean & Cas

Disclaimer: Yes this is a sock for safety reasons. Post is long, but please read it.

No shit there I was checking my email, as you do, and I saw I had a screener from one of the market research groups I’m signed up with. On average, I do a market research thing every 3-4 months because I like non-reportable money. And giving my opinions. And talking to people behind 2 way mirrors without having to go to a police station.

Market research itself was early December, 2016. First email contact with the screener was late October or early November.

I see it’s an “offsite,” meaning a market research company is subcontracted by another company who wants to do the market research at their own facility, but doesn't want to find the participants on their own, so they use the Market research company (in this case Schlesinger and Associates) as an intermediary. I can’t remember if this screener identified itself as being for TV, not all do, some might identify only as entertainment, and some might be even more vague until you get into the screener. Regardless of the identification for the screener (TV or entertainment), I fill out almost every screener I receive unless it’s obvious, from the subject, they won’t want me (ie looking for certain types of professionals)- it didn’t matter, then, if the subject matter was something I particularly like, I would’ve filled it out anyway.

After normal, but more detailed than usual demographics questions, the screener asked about TV habits. Eventually, it said the word “fandom” and asked what TV fandoms I’d count myself in. It was roughly a list of 20 shows and listed “fandom” (defined as I watch every episode and read additional materials about the show. Note this is not what fandom itself would consider fandom, but people most fandom dwellers would still count as GA). Beyond fandom, one could indicate they: watch all episodes but don’t seek out more, watch most episodes, have seen some episodes, watched a few, or haven’t watched. (I just got a screener for soap operas and realized that part was the same and made note). Therefore, fandom, to corporate, are people who watch everything and maybe buy some swag for the show- magazines/shirts. Then, they asked about conventions I might have attended. And then asked about my dream vacation, so I babbled a lot about my dream to go to SDCC (I hadn’t at this point). Supernatural was on the list of shows, so I made sure I answered the essay questions about it, because why not? It was my favorite of what was listed. It was a long screener. I don’t remember the rest. Though sometimes I might remember a detail if a screener reminds me of it. Most fun screener I’ve filled out.

A few days/weeks later, I got a call for step 2- the phone screener for the people that sounded good when filling out the form. And where they try and make sure your answers match or fit that same person who answered them. I passed step 2, and was told there would be homework, and asked ifI’d have time for it, since I would only have so many days to watch the assigned material and write essays about them.

Homework arrives: I have to watch and write essays on all the bonus features of Supernatural S10. There might’ve been something in there from another year, too. And all the bonus features from some season of Big Bang Theory. Essays for all of it, too. And I mean essays, not short answers. It was like the SATs, and I was analyzing blooper reels (among other things). I still don’t get why they wanted essay questions on blooper reels, but I’ll always happily write one again cause that was the funniest essay to have to write!

I had to both print and bring and email all my answers ahead of time. I did not keep them. I’m honestly curious what I might’ve written.

So in December, I get to go to WB’s market research department. Fun fact: the entrance to that building faces what had recently been the Supernatural poster. I check in. At this point I think it’s a group. Because most market research is done in groups. Also they said I was there for the “DVD bonus features study”

I wait in the lobby, but I’m surprised there seem to be very few others around. I don’t think I got there too early, but all the others were taken back before me. And they didn’t seem to be there for the same study. Oh and I wore business casual clothes but had some show-based earrings for fun.

Finally a nice lady brings me back to a room. She turns off the lights and gives me a fancy remote and has me play with a new system for watching bonus features. I had to start with BBT. Then we did something else. Then I was allowed to scroll through and I picked Supernatural, and answered all the things. By this point I figured I would be released soonish because I was supposed to be there only for an hour. And this was at least half an hour at the most. No clock, though and cell phone off. Maybe this part went faster than I remember, but it was less interesting so it felt longer? Or less interesting compared to what came next.

We switch gears. I’m no longer allowed to pick what we watch and talk about my thoughts on if SDCC panels belong in bonus features. (Me: should have a preorder and you get to watch it when the season airs with DVD to arrive when season ends. Silly to watch it after the season when it’s mostly vague spoilers for the first episode or so). Obviously WB doesn’t listen to me about everything.

Oh! In the screener as part of normal demographics, I was asked about my sexuality. It isn’t completely rare (I can talk about another market research where you had to be queer to be part of it), but there were some short answers about representation or something similar. Something that is significant *now,* but at the time I didn’t notice as being too weird. Since they probably had me listed to the people behind the mirror as X (if they even got my name) Y resident, bisexual, age. I very specifically said stuff to her about representation cause I wasn’t gonna miss my shot.

Anyway so we switch from dvd extras and she queues up video from another file.

She puts a scene of Supernatural on and has me watch. Then repeats it. And asks questions about my opinions on what’s happening. Then has me watch and only pay attention to Character D and tell her what I think his emotions are. Then again but with Character C.

Complete torture… lol… at this point I’m confused, but enjoying this torture.

So there I am watching the Crypt scene over and over and analyzing it. And talking about their feelings.

And then I stop her and say something to the effect of “look I’m bi. There’s not a lot of good representation on what being bi is like. But from episode 1 I’ve known Dean is Bi.” And I babbled about how important a macho badass but closeted character is for representation. And that I hoped they did more with that. I included some anecdotes from other lgbtq friends and straight allies and how they all felt as I did- Dean is Bi, Cas is whatever he wants to identify as, and we felt we recognized our experiences on the screen and hoped for continued and louder representation.

Bam. My interviewer was called out of the room by the people behind the mirror. Suddenly I’m getting a whole new set of questions

Like this is the most baffling and amazing thing that's happened to me in years. It imprinted in my mind, and I haven’t mentioned it to too many people, because of the NDA and being afraid to jinx things. But now I don’t feel like it matters to be as quiet. Obviously I don’t want WB to go after me but... market research isn’t unusual, just mostly used for spin-offs or new shows not for plot points of shows already happening. At least, that’s my understanding.

The interviewer comes back after a short discussion with whoever was behind the glass. Asks a few more questions

We’re now very much going into various things about what I’d just said. I took my shot. And apparently it paid off big time. At some point she’s pulled out of the room again and given a paper with more questions. Some were about Dean’s bisexuality, or how I, and anecdotally my friends, saw him as bisexual. Others were about the potential romance. None, that I remember, were about Castiel’s sexuality- I guess that was a given or not important.

I don’t know if any of the writers were behind the glass from the beginning, but I felt like they stalled to get someone there, maybe.

The interviewer was baffled and made sure I knew nothing that was happening was normal. They wanted to ask me more questions than they usually care to get out of their market research volunteers.

So those are the most important parts. Basically almost everything I was asked after that was about character analysis and queerness and a whole bunch of other things that were related (I also mentioned needing more disability rep, too). I was back there for at least 2 hours.

#supernatural #spn #destiel #deancas #castiel #dean winchester #misha collins #jensen ackles

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forestlingincorporated · 3 years

Text

I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People.

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them.

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent.

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.)

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction.

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children.

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically.

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation.

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear.

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect.

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?)

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but...

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7.

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.)

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics.

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two.

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about.

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural.

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries.

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance.

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other.

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent.

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart.

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist.

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well.

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child.

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive.

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you.

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt.

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh...

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating?

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting.

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t.

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so.

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet.

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom.

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought.

#Tim Drake #janet drake #jack drake #robin #Red Robin #character analysis

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the-modernmary · 3 years

Text

chess, not checkers || a. hotchner x f!reader

Summary: Cross-examining Agent Hotchner should have been a lot more simple than it had been. But when the questioning slips out of your control, you find yourself being profiled right there in the middle of the courtroom. Amazing how one stranger can know you better than anybody you've ever met.

Contains: SMUT! 18+ only, minors DNI. Fingering, (light) choking, semi-public sex, adultery, anger sex, enemies to lovers, edging, lawyer hotch <3

Word Count: 8k+

Comments: This is so heavily inspired by “charcoal grey” because we all know how hot he was in that scene. Thank you to @angelfxllcm for being an absolute godsend as I wrote this and being the most supportive friend ever. (If you haven’t read her work, you absolutely should!)

“Fucking FBI and their selfish ass schedules,” you grumbled as you hurried through the hallway of the courthouse, your intern Robin on on your heels. “Court gets pushed back for a week because Agent Hotchner just had to leave with them on a case instead of working remotely, and then expects us to drop everything to go to court the second he gets back to D.C. As if we don’t have jobs too. As if I don’t have six other cases sitting on my desk that now have to be pushed back because of him.”

Robin scrambled behind you, nodding along to every word that left your mouth. “Does this happen with the, uh…”

“BAU,” you supplied.

“—BAU, right. Do court cases usually get pushed back for them?”

You shook your head as you checked your watch. A glint caught the corner of your eye. Shit, your ring. You hadn’t expected to go to court, and completely forgot to leave it at home. You pulled it off and slipped it into the outside pocket of your bag, hoping nobody noticed.

“No. Most cases from the BAU never go to court,” you explained. “There’s enough evidence against the people they arrest that it’s almost always a plea.”

The Bankers Box in Robin’s hands almost slipped as you placed another file precariously on top of it. “Then why is this case going to court?”

Your step faltered as you processed her question, and you couldn’t hide the disbelief on your face. “You did read the brief for this case, right?” you asked, unsure if you really wanted the answer, except her embarrassed blush and averted gaze gave you enough of one. “Seriously? Okay, well, first of all, because of that, you won’t be sitting at the attorney’s table with us. Instead you’ll be in the public seating. I won’t weaken my case because you decided to be unprepared. If this happens again, you won’t be welcome to join me in court at all, am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Deciding to take pity on the poor intern, you sighed as you started your explanation. “Our client claims that his arrest was unlawful and therefore none of the evidence they found should be usable. I’m inclined to agree with him, so we’re fighting all of the charges that were made with evidence found after the arrest.”

“So you don’t think he’s guilty?”

“I don’t ask that question. I’m not God and I’m not his priest, I don’t need to hear his confession. I just need to get him out of unjust and illegal charges.”

Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “So he’s going to walk free? Even after everything he did? How do you sleep at night?”

Fucking Christ, how did this girl even get into law school? You rolled your eyes, suddenly regretting your decision to take on an intern. “No, he’s not going to walk free. He’s going to get a lesser charge, because everything else was obtained illegally. And I sleep very well, actually, because my job isn’t some episode of Law & Order. Less than 10% of my cases ever go to trial. I’m not here to suddenly convince juries that the evidence is wrong. My job is making sure that everybody is given their constitutional rights, that the police are doing their jobs correctly, and that the State isn’t over-punishing. Any cop knows that, and if you ever come across one that doesn’t, you know that you should look into those cases even further. You have to realize, criminal defense lawyers—”

“— are the last line of protection against a corrupt system.” You turned to see your assistant, Marcus, making his way towards you, briefcase and your spare blazer that you keep in the office in hand. “I see you’re giving her your famous anti-prosecutor lecture.”

Marcus helped you slip on your blazer over your satin button up, his hands lingering on your skin for just a little too long to be considered professional, and it made you shiver in anticipation. “God knows she needs it. Thank you, Marcus, for bringing these so quickly. Were you able to get the physical copies of Agent Hotchner’s files?”

Marcus held up his briefcase. “All right here. Although I have to say, I’m a little lost as to why you need his service records.”

The three of you turned the corner to enter the courtroom, your heels clicking on the tiled floor. Robin obediently took her seat in the public viewing area while you and Marcus pushed through the swinging door to settle at your table. “I’ve heard stories of Agent Hotchner’s testimonies. He used to be a prosecutor, so he’s not easily tricked, but he is prideful and will defend his work. I’m going to use that to my advantage. It’s like I always say, practicing law means always playing chess, never checkers.”

Marcus took the seat next to you, making sure to sit close enough that his knee brushed yours the whole time. “You know, I was thinking, this case is complicated,” he whispered, “And we haven’t combed through everything yet… It could take more time than we planned.”

You smirked, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. “Agreed. I’ll tell Tony I have to stay late at the office tonight.”

Before Marcus could continue his flirting, you were distracted by the door to the judge’s chamber opening, revealing the back of a man in a black suit. “Thank you again, your honor, for the continuance,” came the deep timbre of the man, and oh. You certainly weren’t expecting that. “A young girl was able to be reunited with her family this week because of it.”

The man in the doorway turned, and your breath caught in your throat. He was tall and buff and expensive-looking and absolutely gorgeous. His suit was tailored to fit him perfectly, the sleeves of his blazer straining against his biceps. He carried himself with an aura of confidence, like he belonged in the courtroom, and he was making his way directly towards you. Unconsciously, you separated from Marcus, putting as much distance between you and your assistant as possible without raising suspicion.

The man said something to the prosecution before turning to you, hand outstretched. He said your name as a greeting, and your name had never sounded so good. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

When you stood up to shake his hand, you tried to ignore the way his eyes raked down your body, or the way the two of you held on just a moment too long to be considered proper. It felt as if he was looking right through you, learning all of your secrets as though they were written on your body. No, you knew that look. He was studying you. “Agent Hotchner, it’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise, Counselor. Please, call me Aaron.”

You raised your eyebrows in Aaron’s direction, still shaking his hand, and it made your skin burn. You dropped his hand. “I’m just glad we’re able to get this case done and over with. Hopefully with no more delays.”

His eyebrows quirked upwards in what could only be described as shock. “I see your reputation precedes you,” was his only reply before going to his respective seat, and if he noticed you watching his every move, he made no indication of it. That being said, you definitely felt his gaze on the back of your head as the judge entered the room and the session began.

As the proceedings dragged on, you and Marcus continued to talk strategy, his hand finding its way to your thigh ever so often. You also continued negotiating with the prosecutor, both of you flashing Post-It notes of potential plea deals that you would be willing to accept, always careful to keep it out of the eyes of the judge and jury. By the time Aaron had been called to the stand, the offer given to you still wasn’t low enough. Fine, if the prosecution wanted to make a fool of themselves, so be it.

You listened to Aaron’s testimony with the prosecution, completely enraptured. There was something about the way he spoke, so full of authority and confidence, that made the entire room drawn to him. He was incredibly intelligent, that much was clear, and despite the many years since he had actually practiced law, that prosecutor candor hadn’t left him. Staying focused on the case had proven to be more difficult than previously expected. You found yourself staring at his lips, and it didn’t take long for your mind to conjure up some obscene and explicit situations starring the man in front of you.

Eventually, his eyes caught yours, and he watched you, his lips — god, those lips — quirked up in a smirk. Aaron watched you expectantly, and in the light of the courtroom, his eyes were almost the color of whiskey, and you wanted nothing more than to drink it all in.

A sharp “Counselor” broke you out of your trance. In the corner of your eye, you could see Marcus looking at you in concern, but he was the furthest thing from your mind now, especially as Aaron let out an amused huff of air.

“Counselor, does the prosecution wish to cross-examine the witness?” the judge asked with barely hidden annoyance, making you think that it probably wasn’t the first time she had asked the question.

You stood up quickly, smoothing down your pencil skirt as you did. “Yes, your honor. Thank you,” you said, trying your best to keep your voice steady as you noticed Aaron’s eyes trailing down your bare legs.

The cross-examination started normally, and Aaron answered all of your questions with careful precision that only a lawyer could pull off. He seemed to know exactly where you were trying to go with your questions, and easily sidestepped any unflattering implication you were trying to make. Long, biased questions were met with short, clipped answers, not giving you anything to work with. Whatever move you made, Aaron was right there, two steps ahead with you. Never in your life had you met somebody who could follow you so easily or could match your wit without so much breaking a sweat.

It was exhilarating.

“Agent Hotchner,” you started, hands clasped behind your back. “Could you please explain to the court how profiles are used when finding and apprehending suspects?”

Aaron sat up a little taller in the witness box. “Using behavioral research and past case studies, we’re able to construct what we call a profile of the perpetrator, or unsub. Anything they do can give us insights as to who they are — their victims, what weapons they use, even how they dispose of the bodies. Once we have a profile of who we believe is committing these crimes, we have our technical analyst run the parameters through her system. From there, narrowing down our search is easy.”

You nodded slowly, pretending to mull over what he was saying. “For clarification’s sake, in layman’s terms, you build your profile off of assumed psychology, and not concrete evidence, is that correct?”

The muscles in Aaron’s jaw flexed, a sure sign he was gritting his teeth. “Behavior analysis is a tool, just like any other—”

“It’s a yes or no question, Agent,” you interrupted, and oh, he was not happy about that.

His tongue darted out from between his lips. “The research we use for behavior is—”

“Yes. Or no.”

Aaron hesitated, his frustration building up to palpable tension that settled in the courtroom like a thick fog. You weren’t giving him a chance to explain or show off anymore, didn’t allow him to be seen as the smartest person in the room anymore, and that was getting to him.

“Yes,” he conceded, grimacing as if admitting that was physically painful for him.

“Thank you,” you replied, and he caught the unspoken that wasn’t so hard now, was it? even if the rest of the room did not. You walked back over to your table, snatching up a piece of paper and holding it in the air. “Your honor, the defense would like to submit Exhibit Seven into evidence.”

Once the judge gave her express permission, you placed the form in front of Aaron with your left hand, perfectly manicured fingers splayed out in front of his eyes. You almost missed the way his head tilted ever so slightly and his eyes narrowed, like he was staring at a puzzle half complete. “Agent, could you please tell us what’s laying in front of you now.”

He leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the paper before meeting back with yours. “This is a part of our official report of the case. Specifically, it has the profile that was used to lead us to the apprehension of Mr. Mckenna.”

“Does it say on that paper who had the final sign off on the profile before it was circulated?”

“Yes, that would be me. As Unit Chief, my job is to sign and finalize any reports.”

“And could you please read the profile, verbatim, as written on that report?”

Aaron’s face remained neutral, with the exception of his eyebrows scrunching together. Slowly, he had started to piece together your strategy, and he didn’t like it. “The unsub is a white male, between 32 and 40 years old. He’ll most likely be unemployed and driving a van or truck — anything that would let him easily transport his equipment and victims. We believe that he’s also had run-ins with the law before, likely as a juvenile. He’ll come across as friendly, if not a little shy. We believe that this comes from a failed relationship in his past, one where he believes that he was manipulated and wronged, and now he’s going after surrogates for that woman. Killing these women is the only thing that gives him any sort of power. If we can figure out who this past relationship was, it will lead us directly to the killer.”

You paced back and forth in front of the witness stand, your skirt tightening around your legs with every step you took. “Between 32 and 40 years old, unemployed, and killing surrogates… Except Mr. Mckenna is 22 and works part time as a bartender. How do you justify arresting my client with those inconsistencies?”

“As I mentioned before,” Aaron started, his voice dangerously low, “A profile is just one tool we use of many. Not every single part of the profile will fit every single time. Which is why we also rely on outside evidence to ensure that we have the best chance at catching the unknown subject as quickly as possible.”

“Except you had no concrete evidence, which you admit in your own report!” You took two steps closer to him, getting as in his face as possible without risking being held in contempt. With every word that left your mouth, your voice got more and more forceful, and you got more and more under Aaron’s skin.

“All of it was circumstantial at best. You had a hunch, an inherent bias against my client due to his previous conviction record, and you were frustrated at your own inability to get a good lead. But you can’t arrest somebody on a hunch, or because you’re angry. You had no evidence and the man you arrested didn’t even match the profile that you came up with!”

Your eyes locked with Aaron, his gaze heavy, and neither of you dared look away first. “Objection!” came from the prosecutor behind you. Exactly what you wanted. “Argumentative and foundation.” You flashed Aaron a predatory grin.

Two moves to checkmate.

“Sustained,” said the judge.

“Withdrawn.” You tapped the witness bench, hoping to convey an air of aloofness and calm. Aaron scowled. “Agent Hotchner, before joining the FBI, you were a prosecutor, is that true?”

Confusion flashed across his face for the briefest of moments, and it gave you a twisted sense of satisfaction to know that you had the upper hand. You knew the answer to every question you were about to ask, and he knew that. He just couldn’t figure out where you were going with this line of questioning, or what the relevance even was. “Yes, that’s correct.”

You made a soft hum of approval. “Could you please walk us through your higher education?”

“I attended George Washington University for both my undergraduate and law degree.”

“What did you major in for your undergrad?”

Aaron hesitated. “Political Science.”

Check. “So all together, you’ve had about seven years in higher education. In that time, how many psychology classes did you take?”

It was almost sadistic, the way you relished in the slight twitch of his face — the realization that he had been backed into a corner. The silence was deafening as Aaron’s scowl met your smug grin.

“None,” Aaron said finally.

“None,” you repeated, performative shock dripping from your words. “Do you have any academic background in psychology or human behavior, then?”

Aaron’s jaw clenched, and as you made your way closer to the witness stand, you saw his thumb frantically moving back and forth over his fingertips. Clearly, you had struck a nerve. “The FBI has rigorous coursework in order to become a profiler, along with multiple exams and continued training as more research becomes available to us. The profiling classes are no easy feat and are written by experts in the field. Creating profiles has a long and respected history in detective work, and these profilers have caught some of the most prolific serial killers of all time.”

You placed a hand over your chest in faux modesty. “My apologies, Agent Hotchner, I believe I wasn’t very clear. I’m not calling into question the validity and effectiveness of profiles. I’m calling into question the validity and effectiveness of you as a profiler.”

You could practically see the cartoon fire spewing out of Aaron’s ears. He was so close to being in your trap, something he had to have known, too, yet he continued to toe dangerously close to that line.

“A lack of formal education in profiling,” you continued, keeping your voice light, “and the blatant disregard for basic police and legal procedure as shown in this case with my client… I mean, how many other mistakes were made in your past cases? It’s hard to believe that you can read anybody, much less the hardened criminal that you have painted my client to be.”

Checkmate.

“Objection!” cried the prosecutor again. “Your Honor, this is —”

He was cut off by the judge raising her hand. “Sustained. Counselor, I would advise you to tread lightly from here on out.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Withdrawn.” You turned around to make your way back to your table, ignoring Marcus’s look of complete disbelief. Baiting Aaron had been easy, and now all you had to do was wait.

The courtroom was uncomfortably silent for one beat… two beats…

“Not only can I read Mr. Mckenna,” echoed Aaron’s voice, “But I can also read you.”

Once you got back to your desk, you turned around, hands resting on the cool wood of the table top, but you never sat down. Instead, you leaned forward, and arched your eyebrows in a silent challenge — one he was all too eager to pursue.

“The red Harvard Law tag on your briefcase is a perfect match to your lipstick, and you wear the same one every time you go to court. Not because you’re superstitious the way most lawyers are, but because it’s your way of maintaining control in the courtroom, something you’re desperate to keep in every aspect of your life, personal and professional. I would guess that this need goes back to late high school, early college. But you’ve been worried about appearances and how you’re perceived for even longer than that.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. So he thought you were Type A? Anybody could have guessed that by your anything. All they would have to do is look at your color coded case files or your daily schedule, planned down to the minute. You had only been trying to sway the jury when you insinuated that he wasn’t a good profiler, but maybe you were actually starting to believe it yourself.

Except Aaron got a dangerous glint in his eye, causing your stomach to bubble with anxiety. Clearly, he was playing chess, too, and by the looks of it, he believed he was winning.

“In fact, you’re so worried about losing control, that despite your busy schedule, you refuse to hire a planner for your upcoming wedding.”

That got your attention. The objection that you were about to call died on your lips, and all you could do was stare with poorly hidden shock. Next to you, Marcus turned pale as a ghost.

Aaron, cocky bastard, continued his profile of you, with no clear signs of stopping anytime soon. “You have a tan where your ring usually is, and I know you’ve been wearing it recently as you subconsciously fiddle with where it would be whenever things in court aren’t going your way. Just like you’re doing now. You still have your maiden name, which you plan on giving up when you do get married because not taking his last name would arouse too many questions that you want to avoid. Just another way your concern of appearances is manifested. So you’re engaged.

“I would say congratulations, but it’s not a happy relationship, not on your side, anyway. Younger female professionals will take their rings off in fear of not being taken seriously, but you’re an established and respected lawyer. You needn't worry about that. So if it’s not about you, it’s about the fiance. You don’t want to be associated with him.”

You gripped the edge of the table, too angry to form words. Your nails dug into the varnish, and you were sure that your heavy breathing could be heard from across the room. This dick. This absolute, garbage, piece of shit dick. The worst part was how casual he sounded as he aired all of your dirty laundry for everybody to hear.

“He’s holding you back, in all aspects of life, but mostly intellectually. He doesn’t have a sliver of your capabilities. The two of you are probably high school sweethearts, prom king and queen type, but while you grew up and matured, he never did. He can’t keep up with you. Still acts the same way he did in high school, only now with more access to alcohol and money. Career wise, he doesn’t have much going for him, probably some sports related pipe dream. But you stay with him because you know how to control him and how to use him to your advantage.”

Aaron’s eyes zeroed in on Marcus, and all of the color drained from your face. The voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you to object, to get the judge involved, anything, before Aaron did any more damage, but you were frozen in your spot. For the first time in your life, you were completely and utterly speechless and spiraling out of control.

“That need for control is also why you’re sleeping with your assistant. It’s casual for you, but not for him anymore. You should break that off. That’s nothing new for you, though. In fact, I would bet that if we looked back at all of your affairs since your engagement, we’d find a long string of men and women, all of whom are your subordinates or of lower status than you. It’s a win-win situation — they’re more than eager to have a chance with you, and you get to stay in control. Oh, you’ll stop when you actually get married, but you continue to push that date back, as well. So…”

He leaned back in his chair, clearly feeling good about himself, and God, you could kill him. You could reach over the witness box and wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze until his whiskey colored eyes popped out of his smug, beautiful face.

Aaron lifted his chin, eyebrows raised in your direction. “Do you believe in my abilities as a profiler now, Counselor?”

That snapped you back into action. You cleared your throat and unnecessarily smoothed down your skirt in an attempt to regroup your thoughts. “Well, Agent Hotchner, thank you for that little show and tell. It’s clear that you are very passionate about your career. However, just like your profile of my client, you have no evidence for any of your unsubstantiated accusations.”

It was a pathetic attempt at saving face, and Aaron knew it, but it had to be enough for you. You turned your back towards Aaron so that you could face the judge, who, to her credit, had a perfect poker face the whole time. “Your Honor, I move to strike Agent Hotchner’s outburst” — not an outburst, Aaron was too composed to ever have one of those, but he grimaced at the word all the same — “from the record, as no question stands before the witness at this time.”

The judge looked at you dubiously, clearly debating her ruling. There shouldn’t have been any reason to worry, you were legally in the right, but there was always the chance that she wouldn’t be on your side. You noticed yourself fiddling with where your engagement ring would usually be, and you cursed yourself under your breath. How could Aaron have possibly known all of that?

“Sustained,” she said finally, “I direct the jury to disregard the witness’s, uh, example when considering the evidence.”

You let out a breath of relief. It wasn’t much of a win — everybody still heard what had happened, it was still in the back of their minds, like the ring of a bell echoing — but at least in regards to the case, you had the legal upper hand.

The judge turned back to you. “Defense, the witness is still yours, if you have any further questions.”

If you were a little more in your right mind, you would have cut your losses, but between your oath to defend your client to the best of your ability and that stupid self assured grin on Aaron’s face, you knew that you really had no choice.

Deep breath in… Slow breath out… You’re at a stalemate now.

“Agent Hotchner,” you said, causing him to perk him up in interest. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting you to continue. “Wouldn’t an ex-lawyer and an FBI agent be familiar with the rules of decorum in a courtroom?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I understand your question, Counselor.”

“Let me rephrase, then. Would you say that you have a history of emotional outbursts and rule breaking in your line of work? And I’ll remind you that you are still under oath.”

Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No, I wouldn’t. Integrity is one of our core values, and we take that very seriously.”

With shaking hands, Marcus handed you one of the files you’d had him print out on Aaron. “If that’s so, can you explain why, since your promotion to Unit Chief in 2005, you and your team have had seven disciplinary hearings, one of which being an internal investigation into the excessive force used by one of your agents, and another being a congressional hearing?”

A sick sense of satisfaction passed over you when you saw him get visibly shocked, his poker face breaking for the first time that day. If he wanted to go for blood, you could fight back twice as hard. “I’m not at liberty to discuss either of those cases.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Very well, Agent. So between the discrepancies in the profile, your inability to control your temper, and your history of breaking procedure, coupled with the fact that you arrested my client without any warrant by kicking in the door to an innocent civilian’s house, do you really believe that your arrest and the subsequent evidence that came from that arrest was obtained legally? Or do you just not care either way, as long as you’re able to prove that you’re right?”

Right as he opened his mouth to speak, you turned your back on him and started to walk back to your table. Aaron wasn’t even able to get a peep out before you cut him off with a sharp “Question withdrawn. At this time, the defense rests.”

“Our arrest was made on the grounds of—” Aaron tried, and you smirked to yourself. He must have been desperate if he was trying that move twice. You whipped around, gaze steeled.

“I have no further questions, Agent Hotchner,” you repeated, only letting out the slightest hint of amusement. “But thank you for your cooperation with Lady Justice today.”

Aaron’s eyes met yours, and a weight settled in the pit of your stomach. You should have hated him, but something about him had you completely and utterly entranced by him. Maybe it was the novelty of the case. Maybe it was the matching intellects and the fact that he was the only other person who could give you a challenge.

Maybe you just liked the way you got to lose control with him.

As he passed you, his arm brushed yours, and your whole body burned.

“Very cute, Counselor,” he whispered, voice dripping with condescension. “How long did it take you to come up with that little switch up?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you snapped. “I was playing chess, you were playing checkers, and that’s why you lost.”

The rest of the session went on normally, if not a little tense. To your surprise, Aaron hadn’t left immediately after his testimony, and instead took a seat in the section for the public. Good. As soon as courtroom decorum wasn’t a factor, you were sure to give him a piece of your mind.

Court adjourned for the day, and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You told Marcus to continue to push for a better plea option as you grabbed your briefcase and stormed out, pushing through the throngs of people until you could see the back of Aaron’s head.

You sped up your steps until you were right behind him, and you grabbed his wrist to stop him in his tracks. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

You pulled Aaron into an empty conference room, hoping to get some privacy before you completely blew your lid. You already had one public humiliation because of him, and you did not need another.

“What is your problem?” you hissed, locking the door behind you. “You had no right to put my personal life on blast like that.”

Aaron placed his hands on his hips, swooping the sides of his suit jacket back, and you had to make a very conscious effort to not stare. “You questioned my profiling abilities, and I proved them.”

“You didn’t prove shit,” you argued, folding your arms across your chest. “Except for the fact that you’re an insufferable bastard.”

“Are you saying that my profile was off? Because if you didn’t want to be caught committing adultery, then you shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”

You gritted your teeth and took a step towards him in a futile attempt to come across as intimidating. Even in your heels, he still seemed to be towering over you. You’d have to level the playing field somehow. You gripped his tie and used it to pull him down so that he was closer to eye level with you. “I don’t need your judgment, Aaron.”

Aaron moved closer to you, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His Adam's apple bobbed and it captivated you. “I couldn’t care less about what you do,” he said flippantly. “Matter of fact, I don’t think this fit of anger is even inherently about your little secret coming out. Do you want to know what I think it is?”

“Not at all.”

“I think,” he continued, completely ignoring your protest, “You’re angry because as much as you can dish it out, you can’t take it.”

Your grip on his tie tightened at his words. “Trust me, I can take anything,” you said, voice low and breathy.

Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips — those kissable, red stained lips of yours. You hadn’t had to reapply your lipstick once throughout the day, and he idly wondered just exactly what it would take to muss up that perfect, pouty red lip.

“I also think that for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t have control, and you liked it.” He bent down a little bit more so that his lips brushed against your ear with every word and you could feel his breath run down your spine. “Aren’t you bored of sleeping with boys who are so far beneath you?”

You’re not sure who initiated it, but the next thing you knew, your lips crashed against his, the two of you making out like it was the last kiss either of you were ever going to get. His hands felt impossibly everywhere all at once — gripping your hips, tugging at your hair, and even snaking under your work blouse to palm at your breast. His teeth nipped at the fibres of your lips. With every movement of his hands, little gasps escaped you, and you could feel the curve of his lips curling up into a smirk.

His fingers trailed up the side of your body, past the curve of your neck, and tangled themselves in your hair before yanking it back, exposing the column of your throat. Immediately he attached his lips to your neck, nipping at your pulse point.

“Aaron,” you whined, trying to regain the breath he stole from your lungs. You practically melted in his arms, going completely weak at the knees, especially as his tongue trailed across the underside of your jaw. You let his tie fall from your grip, instead bringing your hands up to cup his face to pull him in for another kiss.

His lips set a bruising pace, and it caused a fire to burn in the pit of your stomach. You had never once been kissed like this, never once felt so all-consumed by a person. Aaron’s cologne surrounded you, making your head spin. Bruises were sure to form from how harshly he was gripping your hips, but you didn’t care. He was addicting, and you wanted more.

Hotch walked you backwards until you were pressed up against the wall, his thigh shoved in between your legs, forcing your skirt to ride up. The position made his arousal obvious as he pressed against you. The way he held you was possessive, primal even, Unconsciously, you ground down on his thigh, hoping for anything to help relieve the ache between your legs.

Unfortunately for you, Aaron caught on to what you were trying to do, and he chuckled against your lips before pulling away just far enough to speak. “Look at you,” he whispered, and the raspiness of his voice only served to turn you on even more. He hooked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him, and his thumb traced your bottom lip, tugging at it ever so slightly. His other hand slowly trailed its way up your thigh, nails scratching at your skin. “Skirt hiked up around your waist, desperate to get off. Your little boyfriends aren’t doing it for you anymore?”

He pressed his thigh further into you, ripping an involuntary moan from your throat. “Fuck,” you gasped, your hips still moving back and forth against him, not caring how needy it made you seem. “I need… I…”

“What? Big, bad lawyer doesn’t have any more smart ass comments?” he cooed sarcastically, pushing your skirt up even higher. He replaced his thigh with his hand, and his fingers ghosted over your covered pussy, teasing you, not giving you nearly enough contact. “Fuck, you’re so wet already. Go ahead, needy girl, if you’re that desperate.” Aaron yanked down your panties in one fell swoop, and you blindly kicked them off to the side. “Be a good girl and show me how much you want this.”

Without any more of a warning, one of his fingers entered you, and you let out a breathy moan that Aaron was sure to have on repeat in his mind for days to come. When the heel of his palm pressed against your clit, your brain completely short circuited. You threw your head back as far as you could despite being pressed against the wall as his name clumsily tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, pressing you further against the wall. “Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

Electricity coursed through your veins as he added a second finger, easily finding that spot in you that made you see stars. You rocked your hips back and forth against his hand, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His lips trailed from your jawline, down your neck, and to your collarbone.

“Look at me,” Aaron ordered, tightening his grip on your chin, and your eyes shot right back open. Instead of the whiskey colored irises you had gotten used to, Aaron’s pupils were so blown that they made his eyes completely black. “I want to see you lose control all over me. Gonna make sure you come harder for me than you have for any of your boy toys.”

That wouldn’t be very difficult. Nobody had ever made you feel the way you did then, Aaron’s fingers buried deep in your cunt and lips exploring every inch of skin he could access. No part of this was for his pleasure — from the curl of his fingers to the slow circles on your clit, it was all expertly calculated to bring you to the edge with as much intensity as possible, and it was all devastatingly effective.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, and if it weren’t for the wall behind you, you would have completely lost your balance. “More, fuck, please.”

“More?” he mumbled against the column of your throat. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Coherent sentences were not an option for you at the moment, not when you were so deliciously overwhelmed with pleasure and with Aaron. Besides, how could you tell him that you wanted him to completely and utterly ruin you? That you wanted him to bend you over the conference table and pound into you until you could barely speak. You wanted Aaron to mark you and send you home to your fiance with reminders of every little thing he did to you for the days to come. You wanted raw and untamed passion. You wanted to be consumed, for him to settle in your lungs like smoke, and haunt your dreams for the rest of your life.

You didn’t want nice and calculated the way every other man you’d been with had acted — you wanted Aaron Hotchner to take control.

You couldn't say any of that, so instead, you grabbed his wrist, the one that was holding your chin in place and, without breaking eye contact with him, you guided his hand down until it rested on your throat. “More,” you choked out, giving him an animalistic grin.

That was all it took. Using his grip on your neck, he pulled you in for another kiss, messy and desperate and swallowing all of your incoherent moans as his fingers moved harder, faster.

You clung to him like a lifeline as you felt your whole body tense up, your orgasm fast approaching. You were so fucking close and he felt so fucking good and, God, if this is what losing control felt like, then you and Aaron could do this forever and —

His fingers were gone from you, and you clenched around nothing. You cried out in protest, which only seemed to amuse him.

“Oh? Prom queen isn’t used to not getting what she wants?” Keeping his hand on your throat and you pinned against the wall, he made slow, teasing work of his belt buckle.

Your chest rose and fell in a desperate attempt to catch your breath. “What happened to watching me come undone all over you?” you shot, trying to even out your voice as much as possible. It didn’t work very well. “Did you lose your nerve?”

A dark, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “Don’t worry, Princess, that’s still the plan. I just never said where. I want to make sure you’re nice and wet and ready for me to turn you into a moaning mess on my cock.”

In an attempt to regain some control of the situation, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah? And how do you expect to do that?”

He smirked and released your throat. Wordlessly, he grabbed your wrist, and guided your hand down your body, further and further until you reached your throbbing pussy. He used his hands to press your fingers to your clit, and you whimpered softly. God, you were dripping, and the extra stimulation didn’t help your shaking legs.

“By making you so needy and whiny that by the end of this, you're begging for me,” he hissed, lips brushing the shell of your ear with every word. He moved your fingers so that you were rubbing small, slow circles around your clit, although it wasn’t nearly enough to give any real relief. “Begging for me to come and fuck you over and over and over again. Because you know that your pathetic fiance and your string of affairs have never made you feel like this before.”

Aaron yanked your hand away from your clit and you could sob. You wanted to cum so badly that you could barely put it into words. Still holding your wrist, Aaron brought your hand up to his face. He took a brief moment to admire the way your fingers glistened, covered in your arousal, before bringing them to his lips and sucking.

Eyes wide, you made a choked noise as you committed the view of Aaron to memory. “Please, Aaron, fuck, I need you,” you whined, the start of a long string of incoherent begging. You needed him then and there, damn the consequences.

He pulled your fingers out of his mouth slowly, and you moaned at the obscene wet noise it made. “So desperate,” he murmured as he began to unbutton his slacks. “All for me. All because I edged you once.”

Aaron pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his dick, and you licked your lips involuntarily when you saw it, big and thick and leaking precum. Clearly, it gave Aaron a bit of an ego boost, because as he ran the head up and down your sensitive folds, he reminded you, “You did say you could take anything, Princess.”

Your breathing came out shaking as you shivered, waiting for him to do something — anything. You were so empty and you needed him so badly. If you didn’t get his dick in you soon, you were pretty sure you would lose your mind completely.

“Fuck me, Aaron,” you moaned, arching your back to press into him more.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips in an almost intimate gesture. “Patience is a virtue,” he chastised.

In your haze of arousal, you barely noticed him grabbing your briefcase and digging through the small pocket in the front. You especially didn’t notice his pause when his finger touched something small, round, and metal in the bottom of the bag. The only thing you cared about was him coming back to you, holding up a condom packet with a smirk.

“I knew I’d find one somewhere in your briefcase.” You let the comment slide, the excitement at the prospect of sex with Aaron Hotchner outweighing any jackass comment he could make. Aaron made quick work of putting on the condom. The second he was done, one of his hands ran up your thigh, getting a good grip on it before pulling it up and around his waist.

“Do you feel how wet you are for me? How willing you were to give up control? All for me? That—” Lips pressed to your ear, he pushed his cock into you, bottoming out with one thrust. You threw your head back in pleasure. “—Is playing chess, sweetheart.”

Aaron dropped his forehead to the crook of your neck as he began pounding into you at a desperate pace. He had held off on his own pleasure for long enough, and now he was chasing his orgasm with a ruthless determination. One hand stayed gripping your thigh, the other one braced against the wall next to your head. Aaron nipped at your neck in between moans of praise for you.

“I — oh, fuck — knew it,” he groaned, digging his fingers deeper into your thigh. “You wanted somebody to take control. Somebody who knows how to please you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You were an incoherent mess at this point, his name tumbling from your lips like it was the only thing you knew how to say. At that moment, it probably was.

“Finally, that bratty mouth of yours is good for something. You sound so pretty, moaning out my name. Say it again.” A particularly deep thrust caused you to tug at his hair. “Louder.”

Never before had you met somebody like Aaron Hotchner, and you weren’t sure if you ever would again, so you screwed your eyes shut and let yourself get lost in the absolute pleasure he was providing. You memorized everything you could — the way the calluses on his hands felt against your skin, the way he moaned out your name, how deliciously full you felt, and how for the first time in your life you felt truly seen — so that you could suspend the moment in amber to preserve in the back of your mind.

“Please,” you begged, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails. “I’m so close. Fuck, Aaron, you feel so good, please.”

Aaron tore his lips from your throat, choosing instead to press his forehead against yours. His lips brushed yours with every word he spoke, so close that you were practically kissing him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured. “Be a good girl. Be a good girl and come. All over my dick.”

When you came, it was with a cry of his name as your whole body shuddered. You clung to him as he continued to fuck you. His thrusts began to stutter, and he took the opportunity to capture your lips in one last, scorching kiss, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You think he moaned something as he came, but you couldn’t hear it over the sounds of skin slapping against skin. He fucked you through his orgasm, making sure that you felt every single inch of him. As if you could ever forget it.

The two of you stayed where you were for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of being full a little longer. Your walls fluttered around Aaron, which caused him to muffle his whimpers into your throat.

“Aaron…” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the moment. “That was so—”

“I know.”

“We shouldn’t have done it.”

“I know.” He pulled back just enough to leave a lingering kiss on your lips, and your whole body burned. “But I don’t regret it. Do you?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.” The confession lingered in the hair for a tense second because both of you seemed to remember where you were.

Aaron slowly pulled out of you, an act that looked almost painful for him when you let out an involuntary moan at the feeling. He could have spent all day in you, if given the chance.

The two of you adjusted yourselves in silence, both of you hoping to be able to leave the room with some semblance of professionalism. At the very least, the goal was to not look like you had just had sex in a courthouse conference room. Shame and embarrassment flooded you — what had you been thinking?

Once you felt that you were presentable enough, you grabbed your briefcase and tried to ignore Aaron burning a hole in the back of your head with his gaze.

“Well, Aaron, this was fun.” You cleared your throat. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around at some point.”

You were two steps away from the door when you heard his smug, courthouse voice come back in full swing.

“Forgetting something?”

You turned around in a huff, ready to go right back to arguing with him, but what you saw made your whole body heat up in embarrassment. There was Aaron with a self-satisfied grin and dangling off his finger was your panties.

“These are cute,” he mused. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to fully appreciate them.”

You rushed over there, fully prepared to snatch them out of his hand. “And you never will,” you shot, but even as you said it, you didn’t make much of an effort to take them out of his hands. You just stared at him and his swollen lips and mussed hair, all your doing.

Ever the gentleman, Aaron started to hand your underwear back to you, but instead of taking it back like you knew you should have done, you covered his hand with yours, closing it in a fist around your panties.

“Who says you can’t?” you whispered, guiding his pantie-filled hand down to his pockets. “This way… You can keep it as collateral. To make sure I’ll come and see you again.”

His breath hitched in his throat as you guided him to put your panties into his suit pocket, and you were glad to be the one surprising him this time.

“I don’t care about your fiance,” Aaron started, and you braced yourself for the worse. “But I’m not interested in being the ‘other man’ to your affairs with your assistants, too.”

“Consider it ended,” you promised, not caring how desperate or easy it made you look. You wanted to keep Aaron around for a long, long time.

Just until the wedding, you corrected yourself.

You slung your briefcase over your shoulder, wincing as it dug into a bruise that Aaron had left. It would be there for a while — you’d have to find a way to hide it from Tony until it faded. The thought made you stupidly giddy. “I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

He nodded in goodbye, and you slipped out of the conference room on shaking legs. As soon as the door closed behind you, you reached into your bag, and reluctantly slipped on your engagement ring.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #Aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fanfic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #my writing #criminal minds

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vivithefolle · 3 years

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Can I join your anti-Hermione club? Is there an application form? (In all seriousness, I'm so glad there's someone on Tumblr who is anti-Hermione for good reasons. It drives me absolutely insane how much the fandom worships her. I respect her intelligence, but there are so many absurdly unethical things she does. The hexing of Marietta Edgecombe - I researched it, it's both against contract law and would almost certainly be considered assault - was crazy, and even crazier was that it's excused.)

Hahaha, no application form needed, just a lot of bitterness and a touch of rage.

Something that really annoys me is how people are trying to tell me I'm doing Hermione-bashing when I give her the what-for. Or try to say "but she was a teenager :(". Really, freaking really? So when Hermione scars people on the face she's being a teenager but when Ron is pissy for a night in fourth year he's a total asshole? No, nope, not gonna let that lie.

My issue is that Ron's mistakes are teenager-sized; making an ass of yourself during a soirée, dating someone you're not really interested in because you're flattered by the attention, getting mad at your friend over silly stuff, saying stupid things without thinking... teenage mistakes. Those are teenage mistakes. (Something could be said of his leaving on the Horcrux Hunt but. Bitches. Voldemort himself (a part of him at least) was there singling him out for torture. Not to mention the heavy blood loss, the fact that his family's in danger, etcetera... But of course nobody is willing to accept those circumstances, nooo, it's only Ron who's the sole responsible for leaving absolutely, right, "Hermione is a teenager :(" and "Harry has PTSD :(((" but Ron isn't allowed to have problems of course. Fucking hypocrites.)

Meanwhile Hermione wakes up everyday and chooses violence and not for good reasons. I mean when your first reflex to distract someone is to set them on fire surely that indicates some issues? (Later on she forgets that she can use magic to light a fire... against a plant. I mean. How. How do you come to the conclusion that you should light a person on fire to "distract" them but cannot apply that reasoning to a goddamn killer plant.) The thing is people just... because we're constantly told that Hermione is intelligent/has good grades/works hard, people are quick to assume that she's obviously the most mature one in the room. But being a hard worker isn't necessarily a "proof" of maturity. It's just that people's expectations are that "a studious kid" is a mature kid, but really what they mean by "mature" is "doesn't annoy me to hell and back by playing noisily".

There’s this huge manipulation that plays on people’s expectations: being coded as “the studious girl” people are told through stereotypes that Hermione is smart, mature and logical… and the text is quick to try to reinforce the idea by having her spout definitions (=”smart”, for a degree of it; it’s mostly good memory), scold others for being rowdy (=mature, except that she’s not above it all either and a big part of maturity also involves REALIZING YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES which, Hermione’s don’t, so oops) and have her solve some puzzles or explain things (=logical… but sometimes her reasoning is based on emotion and she just tries to find evidence to justify why she thinks it’s right, rather than go from one thing to another).

When people try to brush off the fucked-up things Hermione did with "well she was a teenager" or "it was the war effort"... no. Fuck no. She didn't have to wipe her parents' minds and memories, there was the Order, the Dursleys were treated better than Hermione's parents for God's sake. But the only thing that matters about Hermione's parents is that they can be conveniently sacrificed to let us know how brave their daughter is right, it's not like she's in anything called the House of the Brave or something, it's not like she's constantly being thrown in mortal danger and is scared but keeps pushing forward, no we absolutely HAD to have a plot point that involves Hermione destroying two people's identities so we know how brave she is (how was any of it brave? Bravery is risking yourself, not the life of two innocents who barely know what's going on and are in no position to fight back).

And with the Romione fandom trying to push back to "nooo but she was a teenager m'kay she had her reasons for everything"... You want to get back to the Dark Ages where Hermione can do anything to Ron and it's his fault for not being perfect enough for her? Because that's how you go back to the Dark Ages.

In concept I love Romione. In the books I love it till about Book 3 (and even then that's pushing it because Hermione's utter disregard for Ron's pet sits very unwell with me, BUT okay fine she's still a child, it's her first pet, she has no idea how to own a pet and she's not used to being mindful of others' feelings. Then she gets validated by the plot because Scabbers was Pettigrew and somehow that means Hermione wasn't horribly callous to Ron's feelings or anything... meanwhile had it been Ron buying Crookshanks and Scabbers being Hermione's pet everyone would have been like "but who cares that Ron was right in the end, do you see how horribly he hurt poor Hermione's feelings!!!"...

It's just. No more excuses. Hermione is fucked-up. As a person, not just because of the war. She had a vicious, vindictive streak that only got enabled through the books because she never was called out on it. And I mean, I'm all for standing up for yourself, or for slapping Draco Malfoy's bitchy ass ferret face. But fuck. When you're doing the magic equivalent of an acid attack on someone's face, when you're physically abusing someone you're supposed to love AND THREATEN TO DO IT AGAIN AS IF IT WAS SOMETHING CUTE OR QUIRKY, when you're brainwashing your own parents into compliance because you can't be bothered to lie to them or make the Order get them... You know how many fics I've seen that take the "I did actually Confund my examiner" exchange from the Epilogue and run away with it to make it so Ron gets in a horrible car accident or invent entire collapses of the Statute of Secrecy as a result of an investigation connected to this "ha ha look it's funny Ron cheated on his exam" moment? Why don't I ever see a fic talking about how Hermione erasing her parents from existence leads to the destruction of Wizarding society through the legal bullshit that follows? Because Hermione dear, did you think to alter "Wendell" and "Monica"'s birth certificates? Their marriage contract? Their VISAs? Their bank accounts? Otherwise you've just turned your parents into homeless vagrants hopelessly lost in Australia who can't ever find a home anywhere because they simply don't exist in the eyes of any government. But hey nobody ever thinks of that because it's so much easier to nitpick everything Ron does. The only thing folks notice about Hermione nowaday is Emma Watson's boobies.

... I'm sorry, I just... Ugh. People.

#vivi answers #ask #hermione granger #hermione granger critical #hermione critical #ron weasley #ron weasley defence squad #ron weasley defense squad #harry potter #harry potter series #hp fandom #hp meta

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no-reply95 · 3 years

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I was scrolling through the Beatles topic on Twitter the other day and came across a tweet from Mark Lewisohn referring to a talk he’d given to the Fab4cast podcast on the Get Back sessions and Spring period of 1969. I assumed that it was a recent talk so I gave it a listen but the talk is actually from 2019.

I tend to find Lewisohn’s podcast interviews to be very interesting. He’s obviously got decades worth of Beatle knowledge stored up so you’re almost guaranteed to learn something new or hear an anecdote that you’ve never heard before but more than the factoids he’s accumulated over the years I find his interpretations of the band extremely telling.

The part of the conversation that really caught my attention was when the podcast hosts brought up the fact that John and Paul’s weddings were really close together and wondered if the two events were connected in any way, I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that this probably got the biggest reaction out of Lewisohn, the main points of the exchange are outlined below (time stamp 47:12)

Host: “Well also in this period there are two events, the marriages of John and Paul, within 8 days of each other… I read that John wanted to marry on the 14th, two days after Paul’s wedding but couldn’t do it because of legal issues, how much was his [marriage] a response to Paul’s marriage do you think?”

Lewisohn: “I’ve read that people say that it was but never heard John say that it was so there’s no validity to those claims they’re just people assuming that John didn’t want to be outdone by Paul… that’s the kind of writing that annoys me because it becomes part of the fact and it’s some writer thinking that’s what it probably was… Unless someone out there can find a Lennon quote in which he actually says it in which case I stand corrected and I’ll be very happy to do so”

There’s a lot going on in these quotes so I’m gonna break down my thoughts on this further:

The illusion of John’s honesty

What Lewisohn displays here is something I believe is pretty common within the Beatles’ authorship. I believe in Revolution In The Head Ian McDonald referred to John as “truth” and Paul as “beauty” and I think a lot of writers do tend to assign those attributes consistently to John and Paul. Reading (or listening) to the Lennon Remembers interview now, it’s hard to believe at one stage people took what John was saying as fact and never even questioned whether there were emotions or agenda behind what he was saying, despite the contradictions (“Me and Paul stopped writing together in 1962” vs “Me and Paul worked really closely together on Sgt. Pepper”) and because John was so charismatic and would speak openly in interviews and to people he knew about both the good and bad in his life I think people, and in this case Lewisohn, assume that John told us everything of note that happened in his life, which I don’t think is a realistic expectation of anyone, let alone someone as famous as John. I think it’s problematic to take John’s or anyone else’s words, especially when they’re said in public, as the gospel truth because everyone has an agenda and John was no different. I also think it’s unrealistic to believe that John would ever announce that the reason he and Yoko got married when they did was in any way connected to Paul, that would have sullied the sanctity of “John and Yoko TM”, I mean, how can you be the greatest love story ever if the reason you decided to get married was because your musical partner who you may have unresolved romantic feelings for got married? I don’t think John would publicly embarrass Yoko like that or risk undermining the strength of the brand he was trying to create with his new relationship by admitting that Paul’s marriage spurred them on. That Lewisohn is apparently holding out for a lost interview of John stating that Paul was involved in the timing of his marriage to Yoko just sounds pretty far fetched to me.

The timing of John’s wedding in relation to his and Yoko’s divorces

As discussed in this podcast, Paul and Linda got married (pretty unexpectedly I believe) on 12 March 1969 and John and Yoko got married 8 days later (and apparently they wanted it to be sooner) on 20 March 1969. Aside from the extremely close proximity of John and Paul’s weddings it should be noted that John’s divorce from Cynthia was finalised in November 1968 and Yoko’s from Tony Cox was finalised in January 1969.

So why am I bringing up John and Yoko’s divorces? Because it meant that they were free to marry each other from January 1969, there was no longer a legal issue preventing them and if John’s bursting out in song about it, you would assume that they would have started planning their wedding ASAP… but curiously they didn’t. How do we know John and Yoko weren’t planning a wedding before Paul married Linda? Because once Paul was married John and Yoko started scrambling to get married ASAP, suddenly there was a rush and need to be married that hadn’t existed before, John suddenly wanted to marry Yoko on a ferry but they couldn’t be married there, then John wanted to marry Yoko in Paris but they needed to be resident in Paris for a period of time before they could get married there so eventually they settled on Gibraltar as they could get married there at short notice. Clearly there was a sudden need for John and Yoko to get married that didn’t materialise until around March 1969, am I and countless other people (including Paul himself) crazy for assuming that Paul’s wedding impacted John’s sudden desperate need to be married? If it wasn’t Paul’s wedding, what was it?

Authorial interpretation and assumptions

I’m really fascinated by the visceral reaction Lewisohn had to just the suggestion that the timing of John and Yoko’s wedding was connected to Paul and Linda’s. For Lewisohn to state it annoys him was pretty shocking to me because, given what is publicly known about this period and the lack of any other logical reason for John and Yoko’s wedding to be so close to Paul’s and Linda’s, I don’t think it’s bad writing to point out the proximity and suggest that the timing was more than a coincidence.

Based on his reaction, you would assume that Lewisohn would be set against any form of interpretation where the principal in question hadn’t confirmed that the interpretation was in fact correct but that would be an incorrect assumption to make. Some of you may be aware of the Hornsey Road shows Mark Lewisohn was giving in 2019 around the 50th anniversary of Abbey Road. During these shows Lewisohn played a clip from the, now infamous, 4-4-4-2 meeting tape and gave a presentation on the Abbey Road period in the Beatles’ history. One of the points Lewisohn raised during the show was that during the sessions, after the car accident in Scotland, a bed was brought into the studio for Yoko so she (and sometimes John) could rest while work on the album progressed. According to Lewisohn, one morning they turned up to the studio and someone had removed one of the legs from the bed, leaving it with 3 legs *dramatic pause* which was him heavily hinting that he thought Paul broke Yoko’s bed on purpose and then bragged about it on the Ram album by including a song called 3 legs, I’m not going to go into the validity (or lack thereof) of this claim but I find it very interesting that Lewisohn was annoyed about authors suggesting that the timing of John and Yoko’s wedding was connected to Paul and Linda’s but he seems happy to publicly speculate that Paul was sabotaging Yoko’s bed in the studio based on the title of a song that he would release on Ram two years later and nothing else.

Is there any evidence that connects John’s wedding to Paul’s?

I’ve already outlined the suspiciousness of John and Yoko choosing to get married right after Paul, when they had been free to marry for weeks prior but is there any other evidence that either proves that the weddings were connected or is Lewisohn right to deem that suggestion as lacking in validity?

Interestingly there actually is unverified eyewitness testimony that does connect John and Paul’s weddings (something not mentioned by Lewisohn in this podcast). I believe there’s an anecdote from Les Anthony (John’s chauffeur at the time) about him driving John and Yoko around when news of Paul’s wedding suddenly came across the radio, to which John apparently said to Yoko that “we have to get married now”… I couldn’t track down the exact source for that story (if anyone knows the source please let me know) so I’m not sure how credible that anecdote is but, assuming it is accurate, then that would suggest a correlation between John and Paul’s weddings that Lewisohn is adamant doesn’t exist.

Why does this matter?

I do think that this podcast interview could be indicative of a few future concerns I personally have around the way the Beatles discourse will progress in the future. Firstly, this was only a podcast interview so it’s unlikely that when Lewisohn releases the final book in his trilogy that he’ll discuss the weddings in this manner (I.e. although he’s adamant the timing of John’s wedding had nothing to with Paul he failed to offer any sort of explanation regarding why John and Yoko were rushing to get married when they’d had weeks to prepare a wedding).

It’s a slight worry that Lewisohn seems to believe that John announced every single thing that happened in his life of note, especially concerning Paul and Yoko. If John had told us everything of interest about him, surely his Dakota diaries would be the basis of a Netflix series by now and not locked away in a vault (assuming they haven’t already been destroyed). To me, like several authors before him, Lewisohn seems to be mistaking John’s emotional honesty with factual honesty. It didn’t escape my attention that several clips of the Lennon Remembers interview were inserted into this podcast and Lewisohn quotes extensively from it in Tune In as well. There’s nothing wrong with using Lennon Remembers as a source but if you do use it you should be analysing the veracity of what was said as we know that John was in a torched earth mentality at that time and even he himself has said what he said in that interview wasn’t meant as a timeless manifesto. It’s a shame that given his ability of analyse sources Lewisohn has never (to my knowledge) critically analysed Lennon Remembers, given that other sources have been analysed this makes LR a strange omission.

Finally, Lewisohn does tend to make some good insights and does have the ability to read between the lines (I.e. him noting Paul’s tendency to say “we” when in most cases he means himself) but with John I do think he has a bit of a blindspot. Why Lewisohn is happy to speculate without evidence in some cases (3 legs) but he draws the line at the suggestion that John and Paul’s weddings being connected is anyone’s guess. If Lewisohn can turn his attention to reading between the lines with John and the other Beatles too and connecting the dots then we should get a Beatles biography that finally addresses a lot of the issues we cover on this site. However, if we take the approach of only using John and Yoko’s PR to understand the events that transpired before and after the band broke up then the story hasn’t moved much further than 1970 and given all that we know now I think that would be a huge shame.

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #john and paul #mark lewisohn #paul and linda #john and yoko #double wedding #beatles podcasts #given Lewisohn��:s status it’s crucial he doesn’t just dismiss things he doesn’t like as invalid #interpretation is fine as long as it’s correct #i have other podcast thoughts on a separate show #thoughts #long post

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taephilia · 3 years

Text

lost (myself) & found (you)

pairing: jeon jungkook x gn!reader

genre: fluff, soulmate au, based off of kimi no na wa

warnings: one (1) swear word

word count: 2,120

a/n: i saw this quote from the movie and inspiration just struck and i haven't been able to get it out of my head since. ofc i wrote this for jungkook since he's a weeb and said he would also want to hear bells ring when he meets his soulmate <3 also this is not edited lol i'll come back to it later, i just wanted to get this out

"Once in a while when I wake up, I find myself crying. The dream I must’ve had I can never recall. But… the sensation that I’ve lost something, lingers for a long time after I wake up." - Tachibana Taki, Kimi No Na Wa (2016)

Jungkook isn’t sure how long he’s felt like this—felt like something is missing, something important, something that his heart just can’t seem to let go of even if his brain has already forgotten. He knows that he dreams of whatever it is. He recalls scenes as he goes about his day; a loud laugh here, a brush of a hand against his there. People that he’s never seen before walking by him in a city he’s never been to, music playing on the radio that he’s never heard, a family that he comes home to that he doesn’t recognize at all. It’s all very strange and Jungkook is starting to wonder if maybe the late night ramen he’s built up a habit of eating has gone bad or maybe the unhealthy amounts of salt in it are the cause behind this. Because it was all fun and games until Jungkook’s heart starts to ache, like it’s calling out to someone that his brain can’t even conjure up an image for. Someone that he would search the ends of the cosmos for, someone that, whenever he feels like he gets close to them, slips right through his fingers like grains of sand. But he shakes it off whenever the feeling comes and ignores the heavy feeling in his chest in favor of paying attention to that day’s classes. If he had somehow found his soulmate, it definitely wouldn’t be someone in his hometown in the countryside.

Soulmate. That’s who his grandfather had told him he’s been dreaming about ever since Jungkook confessed almost two months ago about the reason behind his ever-present furrowed brows and faraway look in his eyes. He says that it had happened to him when he was around Jungkook’s age but, like most dreams, he’s forgotten who it was. He then went on to talk about the red thread of fate and that’s when Jungkook started tuning out. It’s a nice concept to think about when you’re a child—a red string tied around your pinky that connects you to the person that you’re destined to be with—but it’s just a myth and Jungkook doesn’t have time to think about things that aren’t real. Not when he barely has the time to think about the things that are real, like college entrance exams and graduating from high school.

So he buries his head in his books and pours every last drop of blood, sweat, and tears into his studies to get into his dream college in Seoul. The yearning in his heart doesn’t go away but it’s eclipsed by the pure exhaustion that he feels at the end of every day. And, like most dreams, he forgets.

Jungkook is 23 when he seriously begins to wonder whether or not he’s going crazy. He had thought he was going over the deep end while in college but hearing bells go off? Now that takes the cake. It happens at random; he never knows when the bells in his head will ring (and Jungkook knows that only he can hear them because nobody around him ever gives any sort of indication that they’ve heard them) no matter how much he tries to prepare for it. He checks his surroundings every day, eyes scanning over the crowds of people weaving around him in Seoul, but it’s no use. The only consistent location that they seem to chime in is when he’s on the metro and even then, it’s on random days, at random times, and not always at the same stop.

He’s not the type to go chasing after fairy tales, or at least, he isn’t anymore. He doesn’t have time to think hard and long about what these imaginary bells could mean, not when he has a job to do and people to impress and money to be made. And his grandfather died during his second year of college so the only conversation of “soulmates” that occurs now are the ones he has with himself in his head and the memories of their conversations years ago. But as fate would have it, Jungkook took a couple of days off to get an early start to the weekend and he is just itching for an adventure. So when he hears the bells go off while he’s making his way to his connecting train, he closes his eyes for a brief moment and puts himself into the hands of fate.

Jungkook allows his feet to carry him where they want, observing his surroundings and keeping an eye out for any person who gives any sort of indication to hearing something that they shouldn’t be hearing. He climbs up the stairs and out of the station, not giving any attention to the people who side-eye him for standing still on a bustling sidewalk, but looks down at his hand instead. In particular, at his pinky, which feels like there’s something squeezing at it. Like… like a thread that’s been tied snugly around it.

The red thread of fate, a voice in his head whispers to him and Jungkook almost chuckles out loud at the thought. And then almost laughs out loud again because, although he doesn’t believe in soulmates, his actions say otherwise. Because as much as Jungkook doesn’t believe in soulmates… Well, the thought of them and the red thread of fate being real is nice, isn’t it? Someone that you’re destined to be with, connected to by a string that can tangle and stretch but will never fray, keeping you tied to them for all eternity. It’s a comforting thought, especially when he thinks of his extremely lacking love life that comes with his high standards and fear of rejection.

Jungkook passes by a bakery during his fate-led walk and just as he’s considering stopping in to buy something, he hears the bells again. A light sound, one that could be mistaken for a phone notification, but one that he knows very well. But Jungkook’s soulmate must be as used to the sound as he is because no one around him gives any sort of indication that they’re also in search of him. And after an hour and a half of walking around a part of the city that he isn’t too familiar with, he’s ready to call it quits for the night. So Jungkook makes his way to the nearest metro station and gets on a train home.

Of course, that’s when he hears the bells again.

He looks up from his phone and around the crowded train but nobody has been able to move since the doors closed. And if it were someone near him, he would have heard them before. There’s a flash out of the corner of his eye and when Jungkook looks up and out the window of the sliding doors, he sees a pair of eyes staring back. A pair of eyes that are not his but in fact belong to someone in a train traveling right next to his. They stare right at him and mirror his own when they widen at the exact same time as his. But just as soon as Jungkook finds you, he loses you just as quickly when your train goes in a different direction.

Jungkook spends the entire day the next day looking for you. He manages to cross off everything on his “things to do when I’m in Seoul” bucket list that he’s been adding on to for the past 10 years. His feet hurt, his wallet feels significantly lighter than when he first left his apartment, and he’s wondering how much weight he lost from walking what feels like the entire expanse of Seoul three times over. And even after all that, he hasn’t heard the bells. Not once.

And it’s at this point, when Jungkook decides to eat dinner at his favorite ramen shop before calling it a night, that he begins to wonder if he had missed his chance last night. Not like it was much of a chance considering the fact that you were on a different train and he had no way of getting to you. But fate is cruel, isn’t that what some people say? Maybe his thread is just so tangled, so frayed, that it’ll take a lifetime before he’s able to get another glimpse at you. And Jungkook just isn’t that patient.

He can barely even remember what you look like anymore. Maybe it’s the hunger eating away at his stomach and the aching of his feet but as he eats his ramen, he can only recall vague details about you. Like how he wants to drown in your eyes, how soft your skin looks even through two dirty train door windows, and how he thinks your shiny hair probably smells nice - like vanilla or peaches or something. But your face? Absolutely nothing. It’s like he blacked out the second he looked up at you last night.

Jungkook leans back in his seat as he sips at his water, staring out the window of the shop as if you would walk past right that second. But you don’t. So Jungkook throws a couple of bills down onto the table for a tip and heads out, a sigh leaving his lips when he looks around but doesn’t hear any bells. Now that he’s had a chance to sit down and eat, he feels a bit more rational and more determined to find you—but that can wait until tomorrow after he’s had a good night’s sleep. It’s a bit later in the evening so there’s barely anyone around him as he makes his way to the nearest metro station that will take him home. Jungkook is just about to descend the stairs when something makes him stop. He’s not really sure what it is that he stops for; the bus honking on the street beside him or the group of friends laughing as they walk by him? Or perhaps it’s the person at the bottom of the stairs, their eyes looking down as they climb up, but Jungkook just knows that it’s you.

Well, he doesn’t actually know. He’s pretty sure it’s you. It feels like it’s you. But is that fate talking or just his hopeful heart? Jungkook decides not to say anything and slowly walks down the stairs. The bells will tell him if he’s right. Your eyes glance up and meet his and Jungkook sees them widen, but like him, you don’t say anything. Are you waiting to hear your own bells?

He shoves his hands deep into the pocket of his hoodie, eyes quickly darting away from yours to stare holes into the ground as he keeps walking. His heart beats faster with every step and he has to resist the urge to just stare at you point blank because he needs to know and-

He hears the bells. And it’s like a weight is taken off of his shoulders.

But he keeps walking. And you keep walking. And now Jungkook is panicking because why the fuck is he still walking? You’re his soulmate, he found you, so why isn’t he stopping? Jungkook tries to get his feet to stop moving, to just turn around and call out to you but he can’t. What would he even say? ‘Hey, you’? He doesn’t even know your name. ‘I think you’re my soulmate’? How disgustingly cliche. What if you don’t even care that he’s your soulmate? What if you’re already seeing someone? What if he’s the only one that can hear the bells for you and you hear them for someone else? What if-

“Um, excuse me?”

Jungkook almost trips on the last step from how fast he turns around at the sound of your voice. His hands feel clammy but he keeps them in his pocket otherwise you’d be able to see how they’re shaking ever so slightly. He drags his eyes up to yours and suddenly, every bit of anxiety he felt is suddenly gone. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

“Have we met before? You seem really familiar.”

You’re at the top of the stairs now but you step down a few steps, as if you want to get closer. Jungkook climbs back up a few steps because he does want to get closer. There’s an easy smile on his face as he says, “Found you.”

He isn’t sure where it came from. He isn’t even exactly sure what he means. But it feels like the right thing to say, like something that he’s vaguely remembering from a dream he had a long time ago. And judging from the matching smile on your own face, you know what Jungkook means.

“Took you long enough.”

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