#Listen man I know I wrote the parents with more depth that they deserve in my fic but as of their less developed game selves? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mayyourshipsbewithyou · 3 years

Text

Things I loved about In the Heights

-The sounds of the city are part of the music of the opening song

-The frame story is the only way this story should be told; the story only works if it shows the results of Usnavi's decision to stay

-Anthony and Lin shaking hands

-Yay to random mixed race couple asking for directions

-“I hope you’re writing this down I’m gonna test you later” only makes sense with kids

-Showing different residents of Washington Heights provides scale

-I’m not sure about the decision to cut Camila, but if it means less Nina drama, then I love it

-I love how Usnavi has his friends’ orders all ready to go

-LOVE how Usnavi announces Benny’s entrance

-Everything about Vanessa in this movie is perfect=> she’s given so much more depth, her beauty is downplayed, she’s kind of a nerd, but has a beautiful smile

-Nina’s heels=> metaphor for her reaching for the stars

-I love the actress that plays Nina; she’s the right age and her singing voice is so sweet

-Nina’s hair is straight when she’s at school; as soon as she comes home, it’s curly=>she can be herself at home

-When Nina turns around and sees the crowd of people counting on her=> I felt that

-I love seeing Nina get her acceptance letter; I remember what that was like for my brother

-Camila must have died while Nina was at college in this version; Nina lost her mother recently which helps explain her different reason for dropping out; she feels lost

-I don’t know why Sonny is using this deep voice, but I love it!

-Whoever decided to have 96,000 take place at the pool is a genius

-The graphics at the beginning of 96,000 are good for helping regular people understand the rap

-Pete just put his arm around Sonny=> are they dating?

-Sonny yelling 96,000 as he enters the pool=> the sound design

-Pete nodding along to Usnavi=> sucking up to the family

-Usnavi is such a proud cousin-uncle during Sonny’s part in 96,000

-Vanessa making her “I'll be downtown” walk down a ramp

-The dancer doing flips is now a diver doing spins into the pool

-On stage, the lighting was dark; in the movie, it’s underwater

-The circles of people in the pool reflect the zeros in 96,000

-Lin and Chris being rivals is perfect; their bromance is everything

-Nina and Benny being together before the events of the movie means they are the beta couple and have less drama than Usnavi/Vanessa which is how it should be

-Benny joins in during “on that fire escape”=> like West Side Story

-Benny’s “Let me in” against the fence is hilarious

-Nina and Benny are FUN, not angsty like in the original

-Nina following the little girl=> following herself, following her dreams which eventually lead her to the sea; all of this is done while she’s talking about her past

-Nina and Benny instrumental™ part 1 in the middle of “When You’re Home”, Benny interrupts=> their story isn't complete yet

-Benny says he believes in her without discounting her feelings

-Everyone loving Nina=> I finally get it

-Nina is home geographically and with people who love her

-Benny is Nina’s home

-In the Heights is about how dreams are great, but the life you have now can be so beautiful

-Nina’s hair during the dinner/club scene is great

-Usnavi is wearing his dad’s hat for his date with Vanessa; he knows that she is to him what his mom was for his dad

-Family dinners are the same in every culture

-Awkwardness of long-time friends going on a date

-Vanessa offers Usnavi his first drink of the night; he thinks that’s what she wants; because why would she want him and only him?

-Usnavi whispering in Vanessa’s ear is so sexy

-Love that Benny is on Nina’s side instead of being mad at her

-I wonder if they thought 5 years of Benny working for Kevin was too much or too little since they changed that line to "all these years"

-Benny’s reactions to Vanessa dancing at the club are hilarious

-Vanessa laughing at Usnavi dancing with someone else

-Nina is always smiling and laughing at the things going on around her; not as self centered

-Nina and Benny dancing at the club=> all of the yeses

-Usnavi is too nervous about being alone with Vanessa that he un-dated himself; he wasn’t quite ready

-Love that they consciously cut all the “Usnavi, help me” parts=> Vanessa is not a victim

-Fireworks are a romantic setting for Sonny and Pete, just saying

-Usnavi/Benny/Nina talking about the fourth member of their square gives me feelings; I need more of these four in fanfic, my dreams

-“I got to wait for Vanessa”=> the stuff dreams are made of

-Benny is such a good person; he’s even better than the original which is what he deserves

-Usnavi is relieved to have Vanessa call his name

-“Don’t walk away from us tonight”=> great addition

-To give Usnavi and Vanessa some of Nina and Benny’s original lines is to see the face of God

-The first time I saw this, I’m ashamed to admit, I thought Benny was going to steal money from the dispatch; I was a fool

-Dancer with fireworks on his shoes

-Benny is smart and good; he isn’t doing this for Kevin or Nina but for the people of New York

-Abuela was able to see stars again on the last night of her life

-I’m sad Blackout isn’t exactly the same but the orchestral parts that cover up what is unsaid is so beautiful it makes up for it

-Abuela’s family is her “fireworks”; they are what light up the Heights

-Sonny came to Usnavi instead of being with his dad during the blackout; his real family

-Abuela’s smile as she looks at her family while reflecting on her childhood is the most beautiful thing there will ever be

-Paciencia y Fe as a dream sequence is how it was meant to be

-The transition on the subway from reality to memory

-Paciencia y Fe is a mixture of cultures; like Abuela’s memories

-“Wide awake”=> stepping off the subway

-The same actress played Abuela on Broadway and in the movie

-Abuela may be in a musical, but she’s still an old woman

-“As I feed these birds”=> back to the present

-Calor means heat in Spanish but in English it sounds like color

-Abuela dying during the night of the blackout is perfect

-Usnavi saying “she was just here” twice: when she was literally just there and many years, maybe a decade, after the fact

-Usnavi’s daughter is the life that goes on after Abuela is gone

-Usnavi and Nina crying together

-Those closest to Abuela are inside and everyone else is outside

-Iris was sitting on the outside and now she’s in the middle; needed comfort from her friends

-“Should we take a break?”=> we’re past the point of an intermission

-“No daddy, keep going”=> does this look like a stage production to you? It’s a fucking movie

-There isn’t a clear point for an intermission; the action stays strong over where the intermission should be; this is a movie, not a play, and movies don’t have intermissions

-Everyone’s holding candles; like the stars Abuela loved so much

-Iris called Usnavi Daddy for the first time because that was the point in the story where he needed to hear that the most

-“I thought about the people I care about the most, I thought about you”

-Anthony makes Usnavi sexy in a way Lin never could

-So many people love Vanessa, but no one better than Usnavi

-Abuela paid to have Camila's napkins cleaned after all

-Usnavi is the kind of parent that doesn’t sugarcoat life

-Vanessa listed no emergency contacts even though she had people

-“That’s senorita to you”=> yes girl, get it

-Love Daniela for getting everyone out of their asses

-“Tonteria” means foolishness=> the more you know

-How fast Carla says no to “ask me why” shows how quickly she wants to please her love

-Usnavi’s Nueva York t-shirt=> I need it

-Daniela’s first effect being on a woman whose hair is terrible

-Carla pushing that man away from her woman with a bullshit excuse

-My friend was laughing at the parts that were meant to be jokes

-Usnavi’s entrance being announced in Carnaval del Barrio; just like Benny in the opening song

-“There’s nothing holding me down”=> assuming he was rejected

-The different communities dancing with their flags

-Nina being part of Carnaval del Barrio is great

-Even Kevin, kind of an old man, can get down

-Since Nina and Benny sex scene wasn’t shown on screen (praise Jesus), I have to assume Nina told Daniela even though she knows she’s a huge gossip

-Everyone stops because Sonny, a kid, starts singing

-Vanessa and Sonny are so powerful together

-Vanessa’s hand on Sonny’s shoulder

-A kid providing Usnavi with the “flag I’ve got in my hand”

-Usnavi and Vanessa dancing together is muy romantico

-Everything about Nina’s appearance in “When the Sun Goes Down”

-“Let me just listen to my block”=> peak Nina

-Abuela wrote “for Usnavi” on her lotto ticket 😭

-They cut so many songs but kept Champagne=>I love their priorities

-The pause before “you outta stay”

-Everyone has such great chemistry; especially Usnavi and Vanessa

-The choreography in Champagne is what I’ve always imagined

-Usnavi didn’t have time to cash in because Vanessa came over

-Vanessa and Pete friendship for the win

-“Best days of my life” is said thrice=> good things come in threes

-Usnavi staring at the room where Vanessa kissed him

-Iris knows he stayed; she loves her dad so much

-Usnavi looking out his window in Washington Heights and seeing his friends on his dad’s beach

-When Usnavi talks about Kevin at the dispatch, the camera flashes to an abandoned building

-“Vanessa at the salon”=> Usnavi sheds a tear

-Vanessa being front and center during Usnavi’s decision to stay

-Hearing the sounds of the beach during the unveiling

-It’s all about Vanessa=> perfection

-Lin being at the ending is perfect no matter the context

-“Say it so it doesn’t disappear”=> the sad reality is your neighborhood probably will disappear

-Usnavi telling his daughter “you’re it” is everything

-Iris understanding all of the little details of her father’s store now that she knows his story

-Iris is the goddess of the rainbow like the light that appears when water appears on a sunlit day

-“Man, you talk forever”=> that’s so “How I Met Your Mother”

-Iris has a necklace of seashells, like the islands

-Vanessa would sooner get wet than let go of Usnavi’s hand

270 notes · View notes

bakatenshii · 4 years

Text

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could.

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it.

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding.

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted.

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you.

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun.

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal.

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy.

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you.

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour.

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care.

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time.

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite.

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy.

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart.

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use.

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time.

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean.

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart.

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream.

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction.

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself.

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted.

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become.

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective.

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up.

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight.

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close.

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue.

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it.

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh.

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint.

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently.

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go.

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high.

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em.

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you.

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.”

“Want a taste?”

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care.

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air.

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners.

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more.

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate.

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him.

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways.

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole.

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name.

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God?

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed.

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed.

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in.

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?”

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out—

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection.

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours.

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together.

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him.

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose.

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl.

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies.

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first?

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red.

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm.

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char.

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you.

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there.

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore, can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it?

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart.

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth?

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?”

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really.

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda.

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best.

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him.

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy.

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.

2K notes · View notes

oingo233 · 3 years

Text

You Are Beautiful (1)

Summary: Sirius Black was entranced since the moment he saw you. He had to have you but you are convinced his feelings are fleeting, and will only hurt you. People inside and outside of your relationship meddle in the makings of something that could be beautiful... or disastrous. Will love and confidence win? Or will doubt and uncertainty tear you both down?

Young Sirius Black x Pus SizedFemReader

Warning: one inappropriate joke lol, fluff I suppose and nothing else really. All the real stuff comes later :0

Authors note: I mostly write my xreader fics as neutral but as this is a request, I wrote this as fem. But if anyone would like a male version or neutral version let me know and I will copy this but obviously change readers gender (and it's no burden to me I'd love to make more readers feel included and represented). Also reader is plus sized and she is confident and strong throughout the fic -because plus sized characters aren't represented like that in film/books alot (but if looking for amazing and empowering plus sized female characters Nina Zenik from Six of Crows owns my entire heart and changed how I saw myself personally and I would recommend that book for anyone really)- but as any human she has her insecurities because beauty standards are unattainable and have a way excluding so many people and making us feel less than beautiful. As a plus sized/overweight person myself, I understand how we have to fight to feel beautiful and fight this internalized bias we have when we look in the mirror. But WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. WE ARE WORTHY OF MAGAZINGE COVERS AND COMPLIMENTS AND ABOVE ALL SELF LOVE!! The self insert character in this has fought for her confidence, but it will shake and stumble throughout the series and Sirius and friends are there for her to help her realize for herself how beautiful she truly is, once again. So I hope I didn't stray too far from the request :) Enjoy....

Word Count: 1.8

Authors Note: About halfway through I decided to make it a series oops-

****Blabbering Idiot****

Sirius Black is a man of many, many words. In fact, I'm sure if he was writing this he could quickly turn it into one of the most entertaining novels ever written. He'd describe the laughter of his friends for a whole page. Tell a hilarious joke on the next. Then he'd describe the wind blowing through the open halls and courtyard and the spring sun. He could write about a great many things in great detail. (But he wouldn't because he doesn't quite enjoy writing as much as he does anything else, but that's above the point.)

As I said, Sirius Black is a man of many words. So it was such a curious thing when he first saw you. It was an astounding thing really, because for the first time he found something that rendered him completely speechless.

The sun was peeking through the open corridor and pooled onto you, caressing your skin and hair in an ethereal glow. Highlighting curves that brought both sinful and sweet thoughts running through him. It was as if the universe was telling him, look at what we've created, look at this beautiful creature. But he could hardly believe that this world could create something so lovely and kind. You threw your head back in laughter at something your friend said and suddenly the world is back to normal and all he can hear is your laughter and the sound of his friends curiosity at what could have possibly kept him from the conversation about muggle rock compared to Wizard bands. In fact, James was so passionate about it half the hall turned to listen to his rendition of The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.

But he didn't care, he took a feeble step towards you and suddenly felt so nervous his hands began to sweat. He stuttered and coughed up his words just for a simple "hello" in your direction only for the wind blowing through the halls to carry it away. And his friends laughed at him as he watched you walk too far from where he wanted you. Because, oh did he want you.

Sirus POV:

"I'm telling you, I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I know who she is," Sirius says for not the first time that evening. James started to laugh.

"Why? Because you'll be too busy thinking of her?" James said, laughing as he made a very suggestive hand motion. Peter cackled and Remus rolled his eyes, trying to find the cleaner side of his humor but instead he couldn't help but snort. Sirius pushed James's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm sure Lily would love to know how familiar with that feeling you are," Sirius says and James stopped laughing immediately, his eyes narrowed.

"Please, you wouldn't dare. And I will deny all accusations, you'll be made out to be a liar. Then the mystery girl will never love you. Is that what you want, Pads?" James joked with a single arch of his brow. Sirius just rolled his eyes. He was only half paying attention, he has been scouring the hallways since he first saw that girl. He wanted to speak to her again, or maybe just stare for a bit. If things went well, he'd be able to do both those things on a date. But he hasn't seen her since that morning and his heart felt oddly shallow. He wanted those butterflies he had when looking at her to come back and overwhelm him again.

"What'll it matter if I don't even know who she is? Or- or if I can't talk to her? No one falls in love with a blabbering idiot," Sirius says. Remus shrugs.

"Lily fell in love with James," he says, Peter laughed again.

"Yeah, regardless of what he does at night," Peter added and now both James and Sirius were rolling their eyes. James and Lily just recently stopped denying their feelings for one another and gave into the sexual tension and mutual pining. Their relationship was still fairly new but they act as if they've been together for years. Sirius supposed that in a way, they have been.

Sirius would watch them giggling, hand and hand in the hall. He'd see them cuddling in the common room, or coming back after dates with rosy cheeks and beaming smiles. Sirius would never admit it out loud, but his heart cried out when he saw them like that. He rarely ever felt lonely. He could have any girl or boy he wanted if he really tried, but for what? One fun night? Only for one more morning where he wakes up alone? He wanted more than that whenever he saw Lily and James, their happiness was palpable. Their love was suffocating.

Sirius always thought he'd find the one after Hogwarts, if at all. But when he saw her... well that changed everything. In a flash he saw himself with her, their hands intertwined and her head thrown back in laughter. Rosy cheeks and bruised lips. Warm beds and making love... being in love. He nearly felt silly after and yet, he knew that even if he did sleep tonight, it would be her he'd dream of.

"Ello' guys!" Lily said, bouncing up to James who kissed her cheek. They walked with their arms looped and Sirius glared at the easy sign of affection. He thought of his parents, how they would be stiff with one another except for in quiet moments, when he'd pass through a hall and glance into their room. He'd spot a quick kiss on the cheek, and soft squeeze of the hand. It were those odd moments for him, that struck him so strongly with a sharp bitterness. They don't deserve softness and love, he'd think, how can such cruel creatures even feel such things? But even then, he'd walk away seeing them as still awful creatures born from the depths of hell, but more human.

"That's her," Sirius whispered so quietly Remus almost didn't hear it. In fact, Sirius didn’t think Remus heard it at all, but it was rather his look of longing towards the Great Hall entrance that gave him away. Because standing right there, was you.

Your hair was a little wind blown, messy around your face, bits of iit shaped your round cheeks and soft eyes. Sirius eyed you up and down and cursed clothes and cursed shyness and cursed his own head for thinking he could even talk to you. But most of all, he cursed a group of boys who walked past you.

Sirius was a confident boy, he knew how to spot someone who held their head up just as high as he did, and you were very much one of those people. You were giggling as you stole a biscuit from a friend and popped it into your mouth, you covered your mouth as you laughed when they complained with a little smile of their own.

"It's just so yummy, and I haven't eaten since breakfast." He heard you say, your friend just shook his head and handed you a plate as you sat down next to him. But right before you could get comfortable a sneering group of boys stole a piece of food from your hand and said something rather rude.

Sirius didn't even realize he had been walking towards you, this girl he has never even spoken too, yet thought of so endearingly, until he was standing right before the boys and had the pack leaders wrist firmly in his grip.

"Drop it boy, c'mon, drop it," he teased. It was humiliating for the boy and he knew it by the laughing and sneering others directed towards the group of boys, but Sirius did not care. The boy dropped the biscuit and looked as if his tail was tucked into his legs. "Good boy," he said, ruffling his hair until it was a knotted mess, the boy winced at just how hard Sirius dug his knuckles into his scalp, Sirius relented with a satisfied smirk.

Sirius’s voice took on a much harsher tone, "Now scram." The boys were out of their seats and in new ones within seconds.

Sirius felt his mood shift completely once they left, because now all eyes were on him, yours included. He looked up at you rather shyly, his hair falling in strands over his forehead. He tucked it behind his ear and found some confidence in the way your eyes followed the movement and how you blushed. He gave you his best smile, hoping his charm wasn't as weak as his legs felt at that moment.

"Hello, I'm Sirius... Sirius Black." Then, like an idiot he put his hand out for you to shake, what charmer just shakes the ladies hand? He stopped belittling himself the moment you softly placed your hand in his.

"It's nice to meet you, Sirius, and thanks for helping me. I know how to handle those filthy 'dogs'" you said, smiling as you remembered the way he spoke to them, he chuckled. "But I suppose it's nice not always having to," you finished with a bright smile on your face. He felt his own cheeks heat up and he nodded but could not think of anything better to say.

"Name," he said, you raised your brows. He cleared his throat, "your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me," you said and then you laughed, that same laugh that caught his attention and has yet to let go. "I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Nice to meet you," he said, it was as if he couldn't feel the appalled stares of your friends because all he could see was the blush on your cheeks and your head thrown back in laughter. He swallowed thickly before making his way back to his friends. They all wore raised brows and smirks, and he knew they were about to bite into him.

"Treating them like dogs, really? A bit ironic don't you think," Lily said, James shrugged

"That's why it was so good," he said, high fiving Sirius.

"But it admittedly went downhill from there," Peter was sure to add, just like Sirius knew one of them would. Sirius just laughed, too elated to finally know who you were.

"Don't start," he said, but it was too late.

All in union they sputtered out the lame word that will plague Sirius' memory of that moment forever, "Name?"

They cackled at him and ruffled his hair all the way to their seats, but Sirius knew they were pleased for him. And Sirius didn't mind, he could feel the pretty eyes of a pretty girl following him across the room. If only someone told him how important she would become to him, maybe he would have looked back at her and never looked away.

Taglist <3

@enchantedblackrose

#sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black angst #sirius black fluff #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #young sirius x reader #young sirius black #young sirius imagine #harry potter fandom #the marauders #plus sized reader #sirius black x plus sized reader

176 notes · View notes

ladyfogg · 3 years

Text

King of Wands

Fic Summary: When you first started with the show, Jimmy asked for a reading but you turned him away because it wasn’t time. Now that he’s sitting in front of you and the cards are all laid out, it’s time to tell him exactly what his future holds.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Jimmy Darling/Female Reader

Warnings: Smut. Just, lots of smut.

A/N: Look, thought of this and wrote it in the last two hours. Just needed to get this gem out of my brain.

You’re a reader.

A tarot reader that is.

It started when you were a child and your grandmother passed away. She gifted you the set that belonged to her mother and hers before that. Your mother never bought into tarot cards and had refused the family heirloom. The moment those cards were placed in your hand, however, everything changed.

You were obsessed, pouring over the little instructional book day after day, memorizing each card and what they meant. It wasn’t until you performed your first reading that you realized the obsession went far deeper than you ever realized.

You began to see the cards just by looking at someone. You couldn’t explain it. It was subtle at first, just the card name floating through your mind. But then it became visual, sort of like when photographs were overlaid over each other. You knew exactly what card you would pull before you even started shuffling. And you were always right.

It scared people.

At first, you were labeled a fraud; shamed for a gift you had no control over. Then you were hated. People tended to get a bit cranky when you revealed their spouse was cheating on them or that you knew about the little money laundering scheme they had going on. But they were furious when you told them the depths of their character. They didn’t like when you peered into their soul and made them face the parts of themselves they kept locked away.

One day, they stormed your house, ready to run you out of town. You barely had time to grab your grandmother’s cards before fleeing into the darkness.

That’s when you met Elsa. And everything changed. See, she had heard about your gifts and had come to check you out herself. She was The Moon. You saw it the second you laid your eyes on her. Fear and anxiety, but full of intuition and illusions of grandeur. You liked her and you knew that you would be safe with her and her show. Though, you warned her that if she didn’t deal with her past trauma it would come back to bite her in the ass.

She laughed at your boldness.

That first night you slept more peacefully than you had in years. You were given a trailer, one that would act as your home and your workspace. For the first time in your life, you had a home that was all yours and you cherished it just as much as your grandmother’s cards. The house you lived in before with your parents never felt like home. Not since you started reading cards.

You didn’t meet everyone until the next morning at breakfast. Bette and Dot certainly were an interesting pair. Dot seemed indifferent to your appearance, Bette was nice and overly curious about your cards. Ma Petite was the sweetest person you ever met and Eve was an Amazonian vision. You met the others as well, but they were the ones who took you under their wings and showed you the ropes.

Well, them, and Jimmy.

Jimmy Darling.

From the moment he walked into the food tent you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Those deep brown eyes, curly hair, strong arms...he drove you to distraction. At least, that’s what you assumed it was when you didn’t see a card for him. You saw one for everyone else. In fact, the others insisted you read for them so they could see what you could do.

You humored them, mostly because you wanted to impress your new friends but also because you wanted the practice.

“What do you see?” Bette asked as drew three cards and laid them out before her and Dot.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Bette,” Dot said with her signature firm voice. “Tarot reading ain’t a skill. These people are just very perspective and use the cards as a way to swindle you.”

“You’re wrong and right,” you told her, still staring at your cards. “It’s a skill but most people do use it for personal gain. I however have nothing to gain other than getting these damn pictures out of my head.”

“What sort of pictures?” Bette asked.

“The cards. I can look at a person and know exactly what card I’m going to pull.”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

You tap the first card. “The Sun Reversed. Means overly optimistic and feeling down. You need to let your inner child come out and play. Have some fun in your life, honey.”

Bette smiled while Dot rolled her eyes. “I try,” she said. “But she won’t let me have any fun.”

“If I let you have the fun you want, we’d get pregnant,” Dot said.

You chuckled as you kept looking. “Next card is The Lovers Reversed. You don’t love yourself or respect yourself.”

At that, Bette's face fell and she pursed her lips together.

“You’re facing a tough choice with significant consequences,” you continued, now looking directly at her and not the cards. "Stop punishing yourself. Whatever you did, those consequences are behind you now, and dwelling on it isn’t going to change what happened.”

You tap the last card, still maintaining eye contact as you watch the card of Death appear behind Bette's head like the backdrop on a stage. “Something will be coming to an end. There’s a transition on the horizon and if you don’t deal with what’s in here,” you tap her chest where her heart is. “Then you’ll be blind to the opportunities in front of you.”

“Horseshit,” Dot muttered. “All of that was general. Nothing specific that would apply to either of us.”

“Those cards weren’t for you,” you told her, tearing your eyes away from Bette who was chewing on her nail in thought. “Those were for Bette. I don’t draw cards for people who don’t want them.”

“Well fine then, draw one for me,” Dot said, her voice tinged with challenge. “What card do you see for me?”

“Five of Swords.” You draw the next card in the deck, laying the Five of Swords right in front of her. “The recent battle you fought cost you more than you realize. It cost you trust, respect, and dignity. Moving forward is going to be more difficult than you thought. You should probably decide whether your point of view is so important to you that you’re willing to put your closest and ONLY relationship in jeopardy.”

Dot is unimpressed while Bette covers her smile with her hand. “Obviously you stacked the deck,” Dot accused. “I bet if another card were chosen you’d say something completely different.”

“Well, obviously. But another card won’t be chosen.” You shrugged and gathered all the cards, tucking them back into the deck which you then handed to her. “Shuffle yourself.”

With Bette's help, Dot shuffled the deck, twisting cards multiple times and being a lot rougher with the ancient set than you were comfortable with. You winced at the way she treated them, making a mental note to buy a set that your clients could handle instead of using your personal one.

Dot slammed the deck down on the table and waited. You smirked and gestured for her to draw a card.

The Five of Swords gleamed in the light of the tent. Dot's face hardened and she abruptly stood. “We have practice to get to. We don’t have time to sit around listening to a charlatan,” she declared.

Unfazed, you scooped up the deck and gently shuffled. “Whatever you say, grumpy.”

She stalked off, barely giving Bette a chance to wave goodbye.

Jimmy took her place at the seat across from you. he looked incredibly amused. “Day one and you’re already making friends,” he teased. “That was some reading. I saw the others you did too. Seems like you know your stuff.”

You smiled at him but your smile faded when you suddenly realized, you couldn’t see any card. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. All you saw was him.

Jimmy placed his hands on the table expectantly. “Alright, tarot reader. Tell me my future.”

“Sorry, I can’t.” You had never met someone who didn’t have a card and you suddenly worried that something was wrong with you.

“Ah, hey, that’s not fair,” he said. “I deserve a reading just like everyone else. Come on, doll face. What do you see?”

You considered the situation as you shuffled the card, with such ease and skill it was like the cards were floating between your hands and fingers. “It’s not your time for a reading,” you declared. “Sorry, Jimmy. Maybe some other time.”

As you stood up, Jimmy leaned back in his seat with a smirk. “Playing hard to get, sugar? That’s alright. I’m a patient man. I can wait.”

The circus became the place where you finally belonged. Everyone became family and over the years, your talent and act grew. Soon, your grandmother’s cards were only one of the twelve sets you used. You did most of your work while people were waiting for the show to start. Your trailer was set just next to the main tent so those in line or waiting could come in for a reading. You made decent money too, which of course went right back into the circus to help everyone.

Your powers grew as your act did. Soon you could see and learn things about someone that you couldn’t possibly know otherwise. The cards helped get things started but once you were deep in a reading, everything else came right from your own mind.

Every time someone tried to find a way to indicate you were cheating them, you made changes. At first, they said it was because you stacked the deck, so you started having them pick which one they wanted you to use. Then they said you cheated because you could see which one they picked right away and somehow used that the cheat, so you wrapped every deck in the same identical black silk cloth.

The table was left bare. No books or anything else during readings. You didn’t need the books anymore anyway since you knew each deck by heart. The person would sit and you saw the images just as clearly as you saw them.

Except for Jimmy. He was the one and only person who never had a card. It annoyed you but eventually, you came to cherish it. Because when you two were together, all you saw was him. You never got distracted by the pictures. Over time, you and Jimmy became close friends.

Often after a show, the two of you would sit outside and look at the stars, talking for hours. Your feelings for him grew, but you kept them to yourself. He was the first friend you ever had and you didn’t want to mess up the friendship by telling him how you felt.

Of course, the universe had other plans. As it often did.

It was nearly five years later and you were in your trailer, cleaning up for the evening when there was a sharp knock on the door. Not expecting anyone, you frowned and peeked out the curtained window before opening the door.

Jimmy stood on the steps, hands on his hips and jaw clenched. You immediately knew something was wrong and stepped aside to let him in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, heading to the small kitchenette to pour him some tea you had just made yourself.

“Oh, you know, the usual. Being called freaks and getting shit thrown at us,” Jimmy grumbled as he paced. “I get so fucking tired of it. We deserve to be treated with respect just like everyone else. And no matter how hard we try they never fucking see that.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I know how much this weighs on you. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Why do you stay with us?”

His question made you look over at him with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you could go anywhere you want. Do your act for yourself. Why do you stay here?”

For you.

“This is my home and my family, where else would I go?”

He collapsed into your kitchen chair. “You deserve more, you know. Someone—” He caught himself and paused. “Something else. Something better.”

You turned around to tell him that you had no intention of going anywhere when your vision was assaulted by bright lights and the image of the King of Wands. It was so sudden and unexpected that you gasped, letting the teacup slip from your fingers and shatter on the floor. The moment you staggered backward, Jimmy was out of his seat with his arms around your waist to catch you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, doll face. Don’t wanna bump that pretty head of yours,” he said. “You alright?”

Grabbing his biceps to steady yourself, you shut your eyes and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just give me a minute.”

This was the first time in your entire friendship that the two of you touched. Sure there was an occasional handhold or pat on the knee, but he had never put his arms around you and, in truth, it was the best feeling in the world. Unable to stop yourself, you stepped into the embrace, burying your face in his neck. Jimmy held you tight, his nose in your hair. You were so close you could hear his heart racing and when his hand made a slow trail down your spine, you shuddered.

“Take all the time you need, darlin’. I ain’t complaining.”

You smiled and pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. “It’s time for your reading.”

He quirked his eyebrow in amusement. “That what the kids are calling it nowadays?”

Laughing, you reluctantly stepped out of his arms and patted him on the chest. “I’m serious. I can finally see your card.”

“Hot damn. Must be my lucky day.”

You stepped over the broken cup, too focused on other things to care. As you took your seat, you waved to the shelf with your cards. “Take your pick.”

No longer angry, Jimmy looked incredibly amused at the change of events. “You’ve got a strange definition of foreplay, but I’ll play along.”

You rolled your eyes in amusement as he walked up to the shelf, hands shoved in his pockets. He was as handsome as he ever was. His looks only improved with time and the white sleeveless shirt and finely tailored pants helped a great deal. Often you had to stop yourself from just staring at him. Unless he was on stage. Then, you tucked yourself in the back and watched him with shameless love and affection in your soul.

It took him a while to pick a deck, but when he did, he gingerly plucked it off the shelf and sat down with it.

“Unwrap the cards and shuffle,” you told him.

“I love it when you get all bossy.”

“For Christ’s sake, Jimmy, just shuffle the damn cards.”

He chuckled, placing the cards on the table and carefully undoing the ribbon that bound them. When the cloth fell away, you found yourself staring at your grandmother’s cards. They almost never were picked nowadays. Truthfully, you were the only one to use them in the last two or so years.

“So what card do you see for me, doll face?” Jimmy asked, shuffling the deck. His hands fumbled a few times but eventually, he got the hang of it.

“The King of Wands.”

Jimmy smirked. “I know I’m good in bed but damn, I didn’t know I was a king.”

“Not that wand, Jimmy. Well...maybe that wand but I don’t know yet. Just shuffle and draw a card.”

“Why now?” He kept his eyes on you as he shuffled. “We’ve known each other five years and you never gave me a reading. The one time I asked, you said it wasn’t time.”

“You know it’s because I didn’t see a card for you.”

“Yeah, but why do you see one now?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Jimmy placed the deck down and drew a card.

The High Priestess. No. No, that’s not right. You’ve never been wrong in your entire life. A chill ran down your spine and you frowned as you looked at the card. Jimmy’s card wasn’t the High Priestess.

“Looks like you were wrong, sugar,” Jimmy said. “That’s weird. I’ve never known you to be wrong.”

“That’s because I’m not. Draw another card.”

“Darlin’, it’s okay—”

“Humor me, Jimmy. Just draw again.”

Jimmy shrugged and drew another card, placing it next to the first. The Lovers. “Still not the King of Wands,” he said. “Look, it’s been a long day. I’m sure after doing all those readings you’re bound to be a little off.”

“Draw one more.” Jimmy said your name softly but you just shook your head. “Draw again, Jimmy.”

Jimmy sighed and drew another card and your heart lept. The King of Wands.

“There you are you sneaky bastard,” you said. “Now what the hell…” You cut yourself off when you realized what the cards meant. Images and sounds came rushing to you all at once and suddenly, you started laughing. Full on, deep belly, laughing.

Jimmy looked bewildered. “Have you lost your damn mind? What’s so funny?”

“You just gave me a reading.”

“Come again?”

You point to him. “You, Jimmy Darling, just read MY tarot cards.”

“But I ain’t no card reader.”

“Tonight you are apparently. See, this card is yours.” You point to the King of Wands before tapping the High Priestess. “And this one is mine.”

Jimmy looked down at the three cards. The High Priestess, The Lovers, and the King of Wands. His face broke out in a wide smile. “Well, shit,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Looks like we have a long night ahead of us.”

The both of you were out of your seats in the blink of an eye. When your lips finally met for the first time, it was like your world exploded. Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire and that only amplified times a thousand when Jimmy got his hands on you. He pulled at your shirt, tugging it out of your skirt so he could reach underneath. You gasped into his mouth the moment his skin made contact with yours and he groaned in response, palming your braless breasts with a rough squeeze.

“Fuck,” you swore. “Jimmy, I want you so fucking bad.”

“Oh, you’ll have me, doll face. All of me.”

He backed you against the wall of the trailer, mouth devouring yours like he was the hungriest man alive and you were the best meal he ever had. Teeth clashed together in your excitement and you were sure your lips were going to be swollen by the end of the night.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he went on, yanking your skirt up to bunch around your waist. His hands grabbed your thighs, giving them an excited squeeze as he yanked you against his chest. “You drive me damn crazy, woman. Always have. Seeing you walking around with this body and this mouth. The things I’ve wanted to do to you. Lost count of how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you.”

You whimpered at his words, wet with arousal and lust. “Show me.”

Jimmy pulled back to give you that damn irresistible smirk of his. “Kinky. I like that.”

You tugged on his belt, undoing it and pulling it from the loops. “You have no idea, baby.”

Jimmy growled deep in his throat, giving you another kiss before taking over the task of ridding himself of his pants. God, he was magnificent. Long and thick and begging for your touch or mouth. Or both. Jimmy placed a hand on the wall by your head, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he started stroking himself. You wanted to look since that was the whole point, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from those dark brown ones.

You’d never seen eyes like his. They pierced into your very soul and saw you for who you truly were.

“Come on, darlin’,” he panted. “You said you wanted me to show you. The least you could do is look.”

So you looked.

Fuck it was hot. Seeing his hand wrapped around his cock, jerking himself off for you, was more than you could handle. You dropped to your knees, pushing his hands away and taking the tip of him into your mouth.

Jimmy’s hand fell to your head and he swore out your name followed by a loud, drawn-out, “Fuuuuck!”

It took you a moment to get a good rhythm going. Truth be told, you were severely out of practice. Ever since you saw Jimmy, you hadn’t wanted anyone else. You flirted every now and then with a client, but it never went further because you knew none of them would match up to him.

You sucked Jimmy off eagerly, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the heady taste of him. He moaned and grunted, urging you on with words of encouragement. You always loved his voice and could listen to him sing for hours. But this was a different kind of song. This was one you knew you couldn’t live without. His hips thrust along with your mouth, burying himself as far into your throat as he could go.

“Shit, doll face. Why the fuck haven’t we been doing this this whole time?” he groaned, tugging on your hair. “You better stop before this is over embarrassingly soon.”

Pulling off him with a pop, you dragged your tongue along the length of him before smirking. “Thought you would have more stamina than that, Jimmy-boy.”

He yanked you up onto your feet and shoved you back against the wall. “Oh trust me, darlin’. I have plenty.”

His mouth covered yours again as his hand disappeared under your skirt. Jimmy’s hands had drawn your attention but not for the reasons he would have thought. Even when he was self-conscious about them, you admired them. You had heard plenty of stories about his sexual exploits and wished that one day you would experience what he could do.

He rubbed you through your panties, drawing a gasp out of you as he filled your mouth with his tongue before biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. Jimmy wanted eye contact when he slid his hand under that soft fabric, his finger gently making contact with your clit before he pressed down hard. You shouted in surprise, lust coursing through your veins instantly.

“You’re already wet, baby,” Jimmy cooed, placing the gentlest of kisses on your neck as he continued to draw hard circles around your clit. “Sure know how to stoke a man’s ego.”

“It’s all you, Jimmy,” you panted, already breathless and eager. “It’s only ever been you.”

He paused, gaze softening. “Ever?”

“Well, not ever ever but definitely since the day we met.”

A second later, his finger slid inside you and with a gasp you grabbed his shoulders, arching your back in a futile attempt to draw yourself closer to him. He smashed his mouth against yours, kissing away what little breath you had and making your knees buckle. Dear lord, he was magnificent. His thick finger stretched you better than you ever thought possible, certainly better than your own had. And if you were this worked up from his hand alone, you couldn’t wait for his cock.

Jimmy rested his forehead against yours, watching your face as he pleasured you. Your eyes stayed closed but you could still feel the stare, sense his smile as your breaths mingled together. When he leaned against you, you could feel the hardness of his cock. Teasingly, you raised your leg to press your thigh against it and he groaned as precum leaked onto your skin.

“Fuck me, Jimmy,” you begged shamelessly.

“Oh, I will, doll face. Once you cum first.”

It didn’t take long for him to make that happen. Just a few more deep strokes and you convulsed against him, still trapped between his body and the wall. Stars exploded behind your eyelids and as you threw your head back, Jimmy latched onto your neck, sucking greedily. He was still at it when you came back down from your high.

“You’re gonna leave a mark,” you slurred, reaching down to grab his wrist so he’d give you a second to recover. His finger slipped out but he kept his hand on your thigh, his thumb stroking the soft flesh.

“That’s the plan.”

Laughing softly, you dragged your eyes open when he pulled away, only to be met with the beautiful sight of a disheveled and red-cheeked Jimmy Darling.

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” you said.

“I take it you don’t own a mirror. Because you’re far more beautiful than I am.”

“Actually, I do. In the bedroom.” You smirked and nodded over your shoulder to the beaded curtain that separated your sleeping space from the rest of the trailer. “Wanna take a look?”

“Been waiting for you to ask that for years.”

Giggling like school children, you grabbed Jimmy’s hand and pulled him into the room. He stepped out of his shoes and pants along the way, leaving them behind. Your room could barely be called that. It didn’t have space for anything other than your bed and a few decorations on the wall. One of which was a large ornate mirror you had found at an antique shop some time ago. Its bronzed frame shone in the moonlight that filtered in through the tiny window.

Jimmy admired it briefly, staring at your reflection as you climbed onto the bed. “Clothes off, doll face,” he said, yanking his shirt off. “Let me finally see all of you.”

You stripped slowly and deliberately, taking off each layer with careful movements if for no other reason than to give Jimmy the show he deserved. When you were finally, naked, he let out a strangled moan, reaching down to touch himself again. “Fucking hell, you’re just a pretty as I always thought you were.”

“I’m even prettier up close.” You spread your legs for him as you settled against the mound of pillows behind you.

Grinning, Jimmy climbed onto the bed, crawling towards you with catlike grace. As you leaned up for a kiss, he granted your desire, cupping your cheek to hold you there for a moment. A second later, his hand grasped your neck and he shoved you onto your back before burying his face between your legs.

His roughness thrilled you right down to your core, which he drank from excitedly. Those lips. That mouth. You knew he had a quick tongue but fuck you never knew how quick it was. He had you soaked from his spit in no time, his tongue switching between flicking at your clit and licking slow stripes along your seam. The teasing didn’t last long. He was too worked up and ready for more. His finger slid into you again as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

“Jesus, Jimmy!” you exclaimed, clamping your thighs around his head and burying your hands in that wonderfully curly hair. “Baby, you have no idea what you do to me.”

He drew back just enough to smirk up at you. “I’ve got some idea.”

His fingers and hand were drenched in your arousal and you weren’t even the least bit ashamed about it. After all these years, to finally be able to touch him and have him touch you was too much to handle. You were never one to play coy and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now.

“Fuck me already!”

“So damn impatient,” Jimmy teased, still fingering you as he kissed your inner thigh. “You really want it that bad, don’t you?”

You yanked his hair so his eyes met yours. “You do too. I know it.”

Eyes dancing with lust, Jimmy’s hand slipped out from between your legs. He crawled up the rest of your body and pulled you into a harsh kiss. You could taste yourself on him and a sense of possessiveness washed over you. It disappeared and was replaced by instant pleasure a second later when he pushed his cock into you.

You both groaned so loud, you knew the others could hear you outside.

Jimmy took you so hard, you could feel the trailer rocking along with his trusts. Not that you minded. Nope. Quite the opposite. You wanted more. You wanted all of him, everything he could give. Five years was too damn long to hold back. You never felt so stretched and full before. The world around you melted away and all you were left with was Jimmy finally claiming your body for himself.

“Perfect. Such a good girl,” he praised into your ear, his hips jerking against yours with a hard steady rhythm. “Always knew you’d take it well. All mine now, darlin’. No one else gets this sweet pussy but me, we understand?”

“Only you, Jimmy,” you cooed, more than happy to give yourself to him completely. On one condition. You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you. “And you’re mine.”

He grinned. “If you say so.”

You pushed against him until he sat back on his heels and you were able to climb onto his lap. He slid back into you with ease as you rode him, his hands gripping your ass so tight you knew he’d leave marks. Jimmy turned his head and it was your turn to attack his neck with kisses and love bites. You saw how women looked at him, you weren’t stupid. When they saw the way you marked him, they wouldn’t look anymore. Not if they knew what was good for them.

“We look good, doll face,” he panted, watching your reflections in the mirror. “Like we were made for each other.”

You pressed your cheek against his and also watched, your bodies grinding and writhing, begging for sweet release. “We were.”

You came not too long after, too tired and worked up to hold back. Jimmy fucked you through it, biting his lip as his own orgasm overtook him. With a groan, he threw his head back and came inside you, filling you up with his release until he was spent and both slumped against each other panting.

Sloppy kisses were exchanged as Jimmy laid the both of you down. You remained in your sweaty, tangled embrace, neither one of you wanting to pull away now that you could finally touch each other. Even when you caught your breath, you stayed there, you stroking Jimmy’s chest and him running his fingers through your hair.

“You never told me what my card meant,” he said after some time had passed. His voice was soft from fatigue and he sounded more relaxed than he had been in days.

“The King of Wands represents pure, fiery energy. He’s a natural-born leader, a visionary. But doesn’t go forward alone. He’s all about caring for those around him and enlisting their help to realize his vision. He’s someone who’s here to leave a legacy.”

“Hmm,” Jimmy hummed in amusement. “I like the sound of that.”

“You create your own destiny. You create the outcome you want. Now, the only question is, what is it you want?”

Jimmy smiled down at you, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Already got what I want right here, sugar.”

With a smile, you kissed him. The both of you remained that way for some time, each kiss getting softer and gentler, until you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

#jimmy darling x reader #jimmy darling #evan peters #ahs freakshow #american horror story

363 notes · View notes

manchesterau · 3 years

Text

my thoughts after reading my policeman: SPOILERSS of course!! (ignore spelling or grammar mistakes) (this is very ramble-y and not as in depth as it could have been sorrryyy lol, if you want specifics send me an ask after reading this)

okay...so i read the book in 3 days....which....im very proud of myself bc it takes me so long to finish books but that’s not why you are reading this.

im not going to lie to you...i liked the book. i love angst, and this had plenty of it and i liked it. if you like books such as: harry potter, six of crows, red queen, red white and royal blue you will not like this book. i know many people found it boring, which yeah i can see that, but i didn't find it boring at all. but mostly because i love boring books but that's beside the point.

the book flowed easily, there isn't a bunch of raunchy sex scenes that ive seen people say it has (i...the things ive read idk what book they even read????) and Tom does has backward views on marriage and what it means to be a wife. but he is not overtly sexist or misogynist or abusive, or subvertly those things either. to be frank he's a scared gay man in the 50s trying to not get caught and thrown in jail. that's literally it. (ill go more into detail on him later). but if you want to read this book i recommend you go in knowing that there will be homophobia (the word queer is used as a slur....3 times or 4 but no more than 5), expect outing, expect not supportive characters, and remember to have some compassion (more on this later).

next i want to go into characters: starting with tom, then Marion, then Patrick, and then the other characters. so if you are planning on reading this book or just dont want to be spoiled them....don't read the next bit.

Tom:

I'm going to get this out of the way.........Tom (who we never get to know outside of the two-point of views we are presented with, and who is being played by Harry) is a police officer in the 50s UK. to be frank when the rumors first went around I was mad like a lot of people were, which is funny because when we got those pictures of harry reading the book before all the speculation we were....happy, that he was reading a book about a gay man. now...I don't care honestly. I could call out the hypocrites (i won't) and honestly I'm hypocritical myself. I use to watch shows like svu (if you were to turn it on right now I wouldn't turn it off) and I enjoyed watching svu. I know and have seen a lot of mutuals, people on my dash enjoy cop shows like b99, or who like actors who have played the character of police before. so it would be hypocritical of me to be mad at him (this is just my single black opinion) and then go and turn on svu (which I don't do anymore).

I'm not saying that no one can be mad, I'm not saying that the anger people have at him playing this role is bad or not needed or valid. all I'm saying is.....is that I don't care. I got angry over this months ago, and all that anger I felt I don't have anymore, and I can't tell you why. Harry is playing an abusive demented husband who traps his wife in a simulation, and then he will play a gay policeman trying not to face persecution..........and that's that. nothing I can say will reach him, he's playing these roles and there is nothing I can do. will I watch them (pirating of course) yes.

anyways let's get back to tom's character (do not use my opinion to silence other black people I will find you....don't do that shit weirdo): tom is......tom?? like I literally was expecting the worst when I read this because of what other people had to say. but as I'm reading him through the eyes of Marion (his wife) and through the eyes of Patrick (his...true love, fuck the 50s I hate the 50s) one word came to mind constantly: scared. Tom is very scared that he will be found out and his life will be ruined. His family knows about him, which is why I think his father (more on him later) pushed him to be in the national service (where he was a cook, which disappointed him). you don't realize his family knows and then his sister says something and then you go 'wait....THEY KNEW???' and then you will go 'oh so that's why-'

tom does have old fashion views that you would expect of any man at that time (gay or not it's the 50s and gay men are still capable of saying sexist shit). when asked by Patrick if women should still work after having a kid he said no it's the men's job to provide, Marion said she would like to keep working, he said no when they do have a baby (they literally never did, and idk why he thought he could be intimate with her for that long to produce a baby lol). that's....the most sexist thing he said in the whole book (there maybe some small things im forgetting but nothing that really stood out). that's it. I know it's not small and that was a legitimate issue in the 50s but yeah. Just in case you were apprehensive about Tom's character being a raging woman-hater, no,....he just wasn't a true feminist yet (???? I don't know that's like..the most this book says about an issue women were facing at this time). It's still bad what he said (you'll see how Marion justifies it in the book and both Patrick and her don't agree and try and challenge him on his view).

i dont want to go too in depth but it is very obvious from the beginning he has no and i mean ZEROOOO interest in her at all (you can tell when it hits him that he needs a wife and he starts to act a littleee different but it's not romantic at alll).

i feel like my review on tom is shit but like!! we don't really get to know him without bias from Patrick and Marion. I think Harry will play a wonderful Tom (even tho he doesn't not fit the description for Tom...at all....like at alllll).

To summarize Tom: very scared gay man from the 50s who is trying to do everything he can to not be found out. his family knows, even he knew at a young age, and yes he does quit being a police officer but it doesn't happen as soon as id like but then again he wasn't one for that long if you pay attention to the years.

Marion:

😑

i just...if yall could see the notes i made on her.....

To summarize Marion: SHE IS LIVING IN LALA LAND, TOM LITERALLY SHOWS HER NO ROMANTIC INTEREST AT ALLL, AND WHEN SHE METS PATRICK FOR THE FIRST TIME SHE FREAKING NOTICES THAT HE'S ALL BLUSH-Y AND SHIT LIKE...GIRL.....

this is a note i wrote that sums up her and tom's relationship (which is more like friends then anything romantic i mean god their honeymoon was horrible and he proposed to her....nvm 😑)

listen...i can't lie and say i didn't feel sorry for her up until the end when she (spoilers: she outs patrick to his employer which ends up with him getting arrested). after that...ive never hated a character more in my fucking LIFEEEE like oh my god i was pissed

all she does is have fantasies about him being romantic with her (holding hands, hugging, etc) and none of them come true...BECAUSE HES GAYYYYYY i really....the author could have done a better job because there were so many damn red flags.

she's fucking annoying and whiny and yeah it sucked to be a woman in the 50s but you literally outed someone your husband was in love with and thought that you could just go back to being married like he's not devastated and instead of telling what you did you stayed unhappy and made your husband thing that at any point they were coming for him too.......*****

Patrick:

PATRICKKKKK

Patrick and tom deserved a fighting fucking chance i hate the fuck 50s fuck you 50s!!!! I absolutely LOVEDDD his pov and seeing Tom through his pov like it was just so damn refreshing seeing the world through his eyes and how he navigates his queerness in the society they live in. (the dichotomy between a proud gay man and a scared maybe proud but fear overrules that (talking about Tom here) gay man).

There was a lot more to say on how gay men were being persecuted at this time than how women were treated in this particular book. There were some little things here and there about what was expected of Marion as a wife and of a girl/woman at that time but it wasn't the focus.

I loved seeing the way Patrick navigated through his world of art and creativity. And how Tom seemed to fit right in with him.

I hate the things the author made Patrick go through (outed, sent to prison, stripped of his job, and later on in the present day he has had 2 strokes in his 70s). it felt a bit much but it's not too distracting (Patricks pov takes place in the past as he writes in his journal).

Patrick and Julia (more on her later) are my two favorites in the whole book (Tom is third bc he's a very multi-facted character, Marion is not even on the list) and I wish we got a lot more of Patrick's pov.

Other characters!! (speed round bc this is wayyy too long):

Syvlie (Tom's sister): SYVLIEEE IM MAD AT YOUU I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU WHYY WHYYY

Julia: JULIAAAAA QUEEENNN (you'll see why i love her at the end)

Tom's parents: his father is abusive point-blank. or at least i think he's abusive (verbally). as im writing this i am now realizing that the way Tom's mom reacts to him (sometimes crying) is bc they knew he was gay omg wow.

tom's dad is very much a man's man guy?? Picture a sexist man from the 50s....now picture him with a gay son.....yeah, I'm not surprised Tom went into national service then to the police force. you can tell he didn't want anyone to find out about Tom so he pushed him to do what he thought best and Tom went with it, scared.

overall: please do not go into this book expected things to be all flowers and rainbows...this is a book about two gay men in the 50s yall.....

there is something to be said about the tragedy that is in a lot of queer stories, I'm more interested in how white these stories are (that's a rant for another time). but I don't mind my policeman, and i think stories like this should be told. because this actually happened (here is a link to em forster's story where the author takes inspiration from, he really had an affair with a policeman!!! who had a wife!!!).

the ending is bittersweet, and i couldn't help but curse for what could have been. Marion could have not outed Patrick (which she instantly regretted), she could have gotten a divorce (she even contemplated it), they could have been more secretive, Julia could have not said what she said. I think Patrick and Tom were sadly doomed from the start, I just wish they had more time together because I loved seeing their love (the little glimpse we got) bloom into something bigger than them.

thank you for reading!! here are random screenshots of my notes as i read this lol enjoy!!

can’t*

#*#my policeman #godd this book...i cant wait for the movie #mp

136 notes · View notes

kaylorrehabcenter · 3 years

Text

Rating Every Song on Fearless Based on How Gay it is

Hello friends! I still have a few song analyses in the pipeline (and one on Lover the album) but today in honor of Fearless (Taylor’s Edition) being announced and Love Story being released in a few hours I thought I’d do something fun to celebrate!

And you know what? Fuck my usual disclaimer, I am the word of god here. Try and change my mind about any of these. I dare you. (I kid I kid this isn’t that serious and you’re free to disagree <3)

1. Fearless 15/10

Everything about this song is so fucking gay oh my god. This isn’t a fruit, this is a whole ass edible arrangement. As a small rural town Gay (my hometown has a population of less that 4,000 and where I’m living now has a population of 2,500) this uh. Hits.

“And I don't know how it gets better than this/You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless”

Y’ALL

The idea of falling in love with someone who makes you less afraid of your homophobic small town…….it’s getting to me.

“My hands shake, I'm not usually this way but/You pull me in and I'm a little more brave/It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really something/It's fearless”

This is making me emotional, I'll be honest. I see so much of my friends and my experience in high school in this song.

This quote I found on genius is from when the album was released on BMR’s website.

“When I wrote ‘Fearless,’ I wasn’t dating anyone. I wasn’t even in the beginning stages of dating anybody. I really was all by myself out on tour and I got this idea for a song about the best first date. I think sometimes when you’re writing love songs, you don’t write them about what you’re going through at the moment, you write about what you wish you had. So, this song is about the best first date I haven’t had yet.”

This just screams baby Tay writing gay folklore to me, about the gay stories she wish she had. Notice how there are no pronouns in this song??? Fruity I’m telling you.

All that to say. I’m crying because the linear note says “I loved you before I met you” and I want to go listen to Long Story Short and cry now.

2. Fifteen 1/10

Objectively pretty straight as she’s singing about her and Abigail’s dating boys in HS. And Taylor got with a senior guy. Good for her I suppose.

Unless he was one of the shitty ones in which case.

“This is life before you know who you're gonna be”

This however, is a cute line and the whole song makes me warm and nostalgic. You can also hear her crying after the line “and Abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind” which makes me emo and I’m sure will take on new depth after Abigail’s divorce and hurt me even more.

Other highlights that make me sob include.

“When all you wanted was to be wanted/Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now/Back then I swore I was gonna marry him someday/But I realized some bigger dreams of mine”

Bigger dreams of hers indeed :’)

(Also how can you say she’s a gold star lesbian when this song exists. She was obviously dating boys in high school and even if you think she’s a lesbian. Comp het is a hell of a drug kids.)

3. Love Story 8/10

Tried to change the ending indeed.

This is THE Taylor Swift song, and maybe it’s the nostalgia talking but damn I still love it. Written because she wanted to change the ending of Romeo and Juliet (how anyone likes RandJ enough to want to rewrite I have no clue.) and/or because her parents didn’t approve of a guy she was seeing. (according to genius, it would’ve been too early for Joe J so it could possibly be Boys Like Girls frontman, his image did clash with hers and they did release some cute songs together. However if you want my take it’s probably folklore about Emily, take for what you will)

This song has very oft gay vibes with the ‘They don’t approve of our love angle!’ but uses male pronouns so points redacted for that. HOWEVER this is a very early use of ~the male perspective~ in Taylor’s songs and for that it deserves all the love.

“ So I sneak out to the garden to see you/We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew/So close your eyes/Escape this town for a little while”

More rural town angst!!!

Nothing gets me more than rural town angst.

“Romeo, save me, they're trying to tell me how to feel/This love is difficult, but it's real”

Originally the lyric was “this love is different”. Granted I do not remember the source, i’s just lore implanted into my brain, but make of that what you will.

“"Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone/I love you, and that's all I really know/I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress/It's a love story, baby, just say "Yes"”

Marry me Juliet from the male perspective :)

Also worth noting. This is Karlie’s (and Kim K’s lmao) favorite Taylor song which. While basic as hell. Makes this cover sad as hell to this former Kaylor. (thanks @swiftgron-get-married for the tears <3)

Also not to make this about a man AGAIN but the secret message is “Some day I’ll find this” AND SHE DID IM CRYING.

4. Hey Stephen 1/10

The one thing Camilla Cabello and I have in common is loving this song, so I have to live with that for the rest of my life.

This song is very painfully straight.

How can you think this woman is a gold star lesbian.

The only noteworthy thing is that this is one of the few songs she confirms who it’s about. The secret message is “Love and Theft” which is the name of a country music duo who went on to open her Fearless tour. Which, does make me side eye this song a little bit.

Still a cute song.

“Hey Stephen, boy, you might have me believing/I don't always have to be alone”

5. White Horse 1/10

Oh look. It’s track five.

You know maybe this is just me being a bitch but in my ranking of track fives this is. Pretty low. Maybe on the bottom.

Like I don’t have a lot to say about it.

She’s going through it over a guy. He was a cheating dickweazel.

“'Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale/I'm gonna find someone someday/Who might actually treat me well”

“Try and catch me now, oh/It's too late/To catch me now”

These lines hit though!!

And she found Joe!! Who treats her well!!!! And she isn’t the princess, she’s the prince who dropped her sword and knocked on her door!!! But this time if they come for them she’s ready!!!

Yes I will make every song about Long Story Short <3

6. You Belong With Me 5/10

Ah yes. The other THE Taylor Swift song.

You know. If I went to a high school with a cheerleading squad. And I had a crush on a cheerleader. I would blast this song. So for that it gets a 5/10. Otherwise. Fairly straight and fairly iconic.

7. Breathe 8/10

Well. We know this one is about a woman. (Emily Poe for those not in the know. Ha. A rhyme!) That alone has an 8/10. And it’s the first time she has a featured artist so bonus points for that!

It was nominated for a Grammy and it fucking lost to Jason Mraz. When’s the last time you thought about Jason Mraz.

I will not have Kaylor feels on a fucking Fearless song but damn is it VERY easy.

“Never a clean break, no one here to save me/You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand”

“It's 2 A.M, feeling like I just lost a friend/Hope you know it's not easy, easy for me”

Also this bridge? Goes off. HIGHLY underrated.

8. Tell Me Why 3/10

You know. Maybe this album isn’t as gay as I once thought.

This song does bop though, not as good as her other angry songs on this album. But I can vibe with this you know. Why are you being an asshole mysterious man.

“You could write a book on how to ruin someone's perfect day”

This has to be one of baby Tay’s best burns. Damn.

“Why do you have to make me feel small/So you can feel whole inside?/Why do you have to put down my dreams/So you're the only thing on my mind?”

Men ain’t shit kids. However, bonus points for the shade.

9. You’re not Sorry 1/10

Ok, ok. Maybe this was a foolish endeavor.

Because yet again we have a very straight song. A good song. That was on Taylor’s episode of CSI. But oh dear. Very straight. Gets a measly one point. We started this post off so very very gay but damn. We seem to be nearing the end on a very straight note.

10. The Way I Loved You 20/10

Hey Remember what I said about this album being very straight.

WELL THAT WAS A LIE.

Is this a comphet album or am I projecting.

This is one of my favorite baby gay Taylor songs. Her masterful use of pronouns (he is sensible! And so incredible! And all my single friends are jealous! But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, when it was two am and I was cursing your name!) makes the other person she’s singing about completely vague, while we know she isn’t happy with whichever guy she’s dating.

Mayhaps an early reaction to PRomances?

Either way this song is so good, truly an underrated gay gem I mean. Look at it.

“Breaking down and coming undone/It's a roller coaster kind of rush/And I never knew I could feel that much/And that's the way I loved you”

AND THE BRIDGE. Do all of her gay songs just have kickass bridges?

“He can't see the smile I'm faking/And my heart's not breaking/'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all/And you were wild and crazy/Just so frustrating/Intoxicating, complicated/Got away by some mistake and now…”

Damn. I’m imaging this with 2020 vocals and fucking ascending.

Also please watch the live performance of it from the Fearless tour. It’s such a damn shame this got cut from the movie and some woman in the front row is wearing a cowboy hat. Everyone is holding up those cameras everyone had to have before smartphones. Taylor is being endearing. It’s a good time.

11. Forever and Always 6/10

Bonus points for the ~drama~ of it all. Added last minute to the album? The iconic throwing of the chair in live performances?? All of it very dramatique and for that we stan.

Still pretty straight.

Also Joe Jonas responded to the song and why do I find his response so damn funny. “It’s part of being a musician, I guess. You write songs about each other.”

This is another song where the idea of Taylor’s grown up vocals on this is………..whew

12. The Best Day 0/10

This gets zero points because it’s about her literal mom.

Still makes me cry.

God bless Andrea Swift indeed

13. Change 13/10

We start the official tracklist with a gay song. We end it with a gay song.

We will ignore that it was originally written for Scott and BMR and instead induct it into the hall of gay pride anthems, as it should be.

“We're getting stronger now, finding things they never found/They might be bigger but we're faster and never scared/You can walk away, say we don't need this/But there's something in your eyes says we can beat this”

“This revolution, the time will come/For us to finally win/And we'll sing hallelujah, we'll sing hallelujah”

The music video is cringe though lol

14. Jump then Fall 10/10

This song is gay because I choose it to be. <3

Like. Picture baby Taylor writing this song and playing it on her guitar to a girl she has a crush on telling her that she’ll protect her and they’ll be safe and in love and happy together. Gah, maybe I’m ~projecting~ but this sweet ass song always gets me and is EASILY in my top five Taylor songs. Super underrated and hecking cute.

“We're on the phone and without a warning/I realize your laugh is the best sound/I have ever heard”

Like. Look at this shit.

“I watch you talk, you didn't notice/I hear the words but all I can think is/We should be together”

Tell me this is about the first time you get a crush on a girl and she’s your best friend and she’s amazing and beautiful and you realize you kinda want to kiss her and you hope she wants to kiss you too.

“I had time to think it oh, over/And all I can say is come closer/Take a deep breath and jump then fall into me”

And she’s the Romeo who's going to protect her!!!!! She’s the knight in shining armor in this song and I love that for her??

“The bottom's gonna drop out from under our feet/I'll catch you, I'll catch you/When people say things that bring you to your knees/I'll catch you/The time is gonna come when you're so mad you could cry/But I'll hold you through the night until you smile”

I won’t divulge into full on analysis here because. This is what this post is about but PLEASE listen to this song more. It’s such a gay little gem.

15. Untouchable 9/10

How does she make a cover sound gay.

It sounds so gay.

“You got to come on, come on, say that we'll be together/Come on, come on, little taste of heaven”

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay

16. Forever and Always Piano Version 1/10

This song gets 1/10 because I don’t like it. There. I said it.

17. Come in With the Rain 3/10

I can see why this is a bonus track. It doesn’t hit me as much as the other songs on the album.

But damn if I don’t want to scream sing this one driving down a high way.

18. Superstar 7/10

You can’t tell me this song is about a man. I simply won’t entertain the idea.

You cannot prove to me that this song is about a man. There is not a male pronoun in sight.

>:)

19. The Other Side of the Door 6/10

Is this song about having a fight about being in the closet? Probably not. Will my gay little brain make it about that? Yep!

And that, funky little queer pals, is my gay rating of every Fearless song. Like and subscribe, #t3atmidnight

#long post //#fearless the album #gaylor #what do i tag this for it to show up for peope??#gay rating

69 notes · View notes

missturtleduck · 3 years

Note

Fake dating anon-I think it would be cool if it wasn’t a modern au? But thank you!!!!

Sorry for your wait, anon! I hope you like what I wrote for you <3

Fake It Till You Make It

Sokka x Reader - FakeDating!Trope

Needless to say, Y/N was slightly shocked by Sokka’s proposition.

By the age of sixteen, they had been crucial pai sho tiles in the gambit against the once Fire Lord Ozai. Returning home was odd for many reasons, but notably the reminders that they were still children really, or at least in the eyes of their families. It was Zuko who had suggested a gang trip – a joint life changing field trip – after the nations settled down from Ozai’s defeat.

The first to return home was Y/N. Her mother lived in Fire Fountain City. It was only a short journey away from the capital, and Hakoda had already travelled to see his children at the palace. Sure, she had joked about pushing off her mother’s insistent affection, but she definitely cried a little bit when she got to hug her mum, and even more when her brothers piled on too. Ever the monarchist, Zuko was welcomed into the house with open arms and plenty of celebration. Toph especially got on with her family, rough-housing with Y/N’s brothers like it was nothing.

Since Toph didn’t want to see her parents as of yet, the only family member left to visit was Sokka and Katara’s Gran Gran since Suki’s family were doing work in the Fire Nation anyway. It took some convincing for Toph to put on snow boots – “I’ll risk frostbite if it means seeing, Katara!” – but soon they were travelling all the way to the South Pole. It was on their stop at Kyoshi Island that Sokka had approached Y/N.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Y/N barked out an incredulous laugh. “Tui and La, what?”

“Exactly what I said,” Sokka nodded, face solemn. “Katara wrote to Gran Gran a couple of times and mentioned Yue and Suki, but you know how that ended.”

“One turned into the moon and the other is a raging Sapphic in a relationship with Ty Lee.”

“Exactly!” He looked distressed, throwing his hands in the air. “And Gran Gran sent a letter back saying how excited she was to meet my girlfriend!”

Frowning in confusion, Y/N looked at him. “You could just tell her what happened.”

“But, Y/N, she was so excited!” He simpered the way a child would, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Obviously, we’re just friends, but would you do this?”

Ouch. Sure, they were ‘just friends’, but it hurt anyway. Maybe it was the terseness with how he said it, or the fact that since the war had ended all Y/N could think about is how pretty Sokka looked when he could finally relax. Whatever it was, it stung in her chest, panging with the intensity of heartburn. Heartburn seemed a fitting enough description regardless of its denotation.

So that was how she ended up fake dating Sokka, all for the sake of his ego and his gran gran’s happiness. As they travelled over the ocean on Appa’s back, he was as physically far from her as he could possibly be. Ouch, again. For a fake boyfriend, he was doing a crappy job at it. Staring daggers at the back of his head, Y/N sulked quite contently next to Zuko, who seemed to be comfortable with her mood – something about being friends with far grumpier girls. That had made her laugh.

Her laugh had made Sokka stare.

The sharpness to her gaze melted almost immediately when she saw the concern etched on his face. Instead, she beamed at him. Sokka grinned back, turning away to continue his conversation with Suki.

Y/N could feel Zuko’s gaze on her. “I swear to the spirits, Zuko, if you say that’s rough, buddy, I’ll chi block you.”

The crown prince was kind enough to stifle his laughter, though it seemed contagious. Her frown shifted into a small smile and she took to staring over the edge of Appa’s saddle at the canvas of blue beneath them. There was something tranquil about the polar water, the great water beasts breaching the waves only to dive back down into the impossible depths. Being from the Fire Nation, Y/N had never experienced such wonder in a single image – nor such freezing weather. Pulling furs over herself, she readied herself for what would happen on the ice.

Gran Gran looked to be the loveliest but scariest woman she would ever meet. The woman stood as the leader of the tribe; a gaggle of children stood behind her in uncertainty. However, as soon as Sokka hopped off Appa’s back, they were screaming and charging past her to tackle him to the ground. Her heart warmed as they hugged him and cried, shouting at him for leaving them without a warrior in the village.

“What are you seal pups on about?” He snorted, trying to avoid being winded by tiny elbows. “I trained you better than this.”

“That’s enough of that.”

At the woman’s words, the children picked themselves up, leaving Sokka in the snow. He didn’t last long though as he and Katara took their turn in charging. Embracing their grandmother with the tightest hug Y/N had ever seen, she left them to their moment, opting to instead help Toph down from their trusty steed.

“I hate this,” Toph muttered, holding both Zuko and Y/N’s arms in her own death grip.

“I know,” Y/N said softly, “But you’ll be able to take those boots off once we get inside one of the igloos.”

“And this must be Y/N.”

With wide eyes, she pried herself from Toph, trusting Zuko to make sure she didn’t cause any avalanches. Stepping to Sokka’s side, Y/N tried not to startle as he wrapped his arm around her hip. “Sokka, let me meet your grandmother before you steal me away!”

She felt smug satisfaction at how he flushed.

“Let me look at you, dear,” The matriarch ordered, though not unkindly. Presenting herself in the woman, she brushed off the scrutinous stare with a smile. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Thank you, erm- “

“Please,” She beamed, and all Y/N could see was the saccharine threat that Katara often fronted, “Call me Gran Gran.”

As the woman turned away, she swatted Sokka’s arm, meeting his gaze with a scowl. Stalking past him through the snow – which was harder than she had assumed – Y/N was followed by a curious flock of children tugging on her sleeves. Patient as a saint, she laughed with them, answering all of their burning questions.

Why is your hair like that? Why are your clothes red? Is that the same scary man who attacked our village? But he doesn’t look scary. Why is Sokka smiling at you?

Whipping her head around, Y/N met Sokka’s eyes. He was grinning like a dope, chin rested on his palm as Katara talked Gran Gran’s ear off. Somehow, he hadn’t realised that she had caught him staring, but the children soon fixed that; a snowball to the face promptly brought him out of his stupor. Had he hit his head on the way down from Appa? Whatever it was, it made her heart hurt and she had promised Toph a warm igloo anyway.

The sun was beginning to set behind the glaciated mountains on the horizon, illuminating the village in the evening light, dappling the ice with sunspots. She had never seen something so beautiful before, but as the sun disappeared, so did the warmth; the igloo more than made up for it.

As she sat with Zuko, Suki, and Toph – Sokka and Katara obviously busy whilst Aang promised the children some airbending games – Y/N grumbled to herself. Not only was she playing fake girlfriend, but fake girlfriend who was hated by the family. Well, it probably wasn’t hate. She wouldn’t blame Gran Gran for being protective over one of her two grandchildren. In fact, thinking of how her brothers reacted to Sokka, maybe she had it good.

Laid flat on her back, she listened to the gossip of the Fire Nation, of how Ty Lee was doing, and how Toph was seeing some weird stuff under the ice. Whatever it was, it couldn’t spike her interest enough to join in the conversation.

“Y/N?”She barely turned her head to see an anxious looking Sokka in the doorway.

“Yes?”

He looked around the room at all the faces and fidgeted. “About earlier- “

“Listen, I don’t care, okay, Sokka?” She said, trying her hardest to not seem entirely mean, nor upset; Toph scoffed, muttering something that sounded like liar.

“Just,” He sighed, “Can we talk outside?”

Pulling furs back over herself, she looked pleadingly at her friends to rescue her, but to no avail. Trudging after Sokka, she was growing more and more vexed as they moved further from the village and into the cold. The moon began to rise in the sky, glossing the ice with an ethereal glow, which was perhaps the only nice part about being out in the bitter cold.

“What, Sokka?” Y/N finally huffed, putting her foot down. “Am I not being a convincing enough girlfriend for you?”

“It’s not that Y/N,” Sokka started, waving his hands in a panicked motion as if warning off a polar dog.

“Then what?” She interrupted, not having any of it. “Did you want me to hold your hand? Maybe give you a cuddle?”

He flinched at the venom in her tone. “No, Y/N, if you’d just- “

“Just what?” Y/N snapped. “What you asked of me what really inconsiderate,

Sokka, but I did it anyway because I'm your friend – just your friend.”

“Spirits, Y/N,” He sighed, realisation passing behind his eyes.

“But it’s fine! I’m a great actress, Sokka, because I wouldn’t be acting. See? I can hold your hand, hug you, even kiss you if you needed it, but it hurts me.”

Looking down at the ice, Sokka kicked some snow under his boot, looking very ashamed of himself for a second. It pierced through her anger in a way that was unfair. Instead of dealing a final blow, all she could think to do was grab his hand and comfort him. Yes, she still felt she was in the right, but Y/N didn’t want one of her closest friends to suffer at her hand, retribution or no.

“Gran Gran shouted at me, y’know,” Sokka said, a small smile quirking at his lips as his eyes fell on his hand in hers.

Y/N frowned. “Why?”

“For thinking she was a ‘dumb old lady’ apparently,” He chuckled, meeting her eyes. “It seemed Aang had let slip that we weren’t actually dating, so she told me off for that.”

“You deserved that,” She grin, bumping his shoulder.

“And then she called me dumb, which I didn’t appreciate.”

His smile said otherwise, so Y/N pushed. “What did you do now?”

“Try to fake something I actually wanted.”

Shocked, Y/N dropped his hand, and for a moment his heart fell heavy in his chest. This was the perfect chance to be with her, he thought, now that the war was over and she knew her family was safe. Now they had autonomy, surely they could focus on each other.

“Y/N, I’m so- “

His apology was cut off by an insistent pair of lips, begging him to be quiet and just enjoy their moment. Deepening the kiss, she looped her arms around the back of his neck, the scruff of his unshaven hair brushing against her arms. His heart was soaring, hers no longer burning but glowing. She pulled back and reaching up to his face, Y/N felt the warmth of his cheek in the bitter cold, radiating warmer than the sun. Whatever light had been taken by the night was captured in them.

“Gran Gran likes you by the way,” Sokka said quietly, leaning his forehead against hers. “Says you wrangle those kids better than I do.”

“Praise Agni,” Y/N gasped, letting out a bated breath she hadn’t realised was stuck. “She does the same scary face Katara does.”

Sokka chucked, rubbing his nose against hers. “Don’t you worry, Y/N. Me and Dad are just as scared by it.”

With a giggle, she rested her head in the crook of his neck, basking in their embrace for as long as she could.

#atla #fic request #sokka x reader #fake dating #sokka x f!reader #zuko #toph #aang #katara #suki #the gaang #gran gran #fake it till you make it #anon request #angst #happy ending #missturtleduck

53 notes · View notes

leportraitducadavre · 3 years

Note

What are Naruto’s character flaws in Part 2 ? Did even growth at all during the timeskip or did he get worser ?

Naruto did not develop much after the first part, most of his characterization was based on his impulsive, reckless attitude that was shown to us before the time-jump, but little did they try to establish a more mature Naruto in Shippuden. After the time-skip, the first thing Naruto -actively- does is spar with Kakashi alongside Sakura, there’s nothing there that show us some growth in his behavior (or what humor is) when talking to Konohamaru, and his feelings for Sakura hadn’t changed (still in love with her and asking her on dates despite not seeing her for two years). His tactic to defeat Kakashi is effective, but little have to do with maturity, I know it was planned more for comedy purposes, but it still establishes a Naruto that differs from his former version only by his design, and little bit at that.

During the Gaara’s Retrieval Arc, we again see a reckless Naruto that jeopardizes the mission on occasion in order to get to Gaara, his heart is in the right place, and we already saw how Naruto feels about jinchurikis during the first part. This arc seemed to be more about establishing three things: Gaara’s position of power -despite his tailed beast, which introduces the idea of Naruto having a possibility of getting the position-, Naruto and Gaara’s friendship (and hence, Suna and Konoha), and Suna’s relationship with their Kazekage. Chiyo’s character was presented to serve as the “old vision” of the jinchurikis, being antagonistic to Naruto’s views but ultimately changing thanks to “our hero” and sacrificing herself for Gaara, and to be the second mentor to Sakura to show her development in other circumstances that aren’t sparing with her former teacher.

With that, Naruto’s characterization in the second part has been established, his reaction to Sai's enlistment in team 7 as Sasuke's replacement differs nothing to how he would have reacted during the first part. It could be said that two years are short to change a person’s personality, but Naruto’s development hasn’t moved nor forward or backward, it’s stanked in what seemed to be the most highlighted traits of his personality and the ones the fans recognized him for the most.

There was an attempt to establish a more mature, more in-depth Naruto during the Pain Arc and later on with the Dark Naruto, but little did succeed, quite the contrary. They tried to show the mature way in which Naruto handled a situation that at another time would have caused another reaction on his part, but the resolution was pure nonsense and their attempt relied on the destruction of a deeper, smarter character like Pain. Naruto “changed” Pain’s view of the world because he quoted a phrase from the book Jiraiya wrote that was inspired by something Nagato said as a child, and that was pretty much it. The reply to the question Pain asked (how would you face this hatred [the world’s hatred, their desire to revenge those who were killed] in order to build peace?), was:

“I believe in what Jiraiya did”.

There was no depth in that response, there was no argument against what Pain believed in, there was nothing that put Naruto above Pain or showed him to have grown enough to reason with him on the same moral or intellectual level. In that sense there was no growth, Naruto responded that he believed in what his former sensei did, which was already established before, the fact that Konoha was the responsible for the despair of small countries like Nagato’s is completely overlooked in that moment not to be addressed again during their meeting.

Here’s the thing that differentiates Pain or even Sasuke from Naruto: Their traumas. I’m not trying to diminish Naruto’s feelings about the things that happened to him, but everything that was thrown his way was quickly overcome and had little effect on his actions later on. We start the series by knowing that Naruto was an outcast and was despised by the village for things he couldn’t control, like the Kyuubi being sealed on him when he was born, and that he didn’t know who his parents were -hence, his identity, which is something a dictatorial system does, did, and will do and there are no red flags there for the fandom?-. His personality, a loud boy that tried to get everyone’s attention, was explained by those reasons. He was desperately trying to get some control over what was happening around him, he was trying to get whatever acknowledgment he could (whether it was good or bad). His goal and dream, becoming the Hokage, was explained by that same desolation and loneliness, since becoming the ultimate leader of his village would guarantee everyone’s respect, or at least, acknowledgment. During the first part, that worked.

Throughout the series, they wanted us to believe that the dream that began with the simple desire to be loved by his own people morphed into something even deeper when Naruto gains knowledge of the shortcomings of the system and wants to modify them, but that reason falls flat when Naruto doesn’t acknowledge Konoha’s responsibilities, nor on other countries’ miseries, nor in the slaughter of their own people (UCM) during the second part. Losing Jiraiya presented another trauma for Naruto, since it was the first time a person he “truly” bonded with and represented the grandparent figure -being the official connection with his parents- died during combat, but that trauma is “resolved” and never brought back after Pain’s Arc.

Naruto never overcomes his main trauma. He never overcomes the need to be loved and acknowledged, the “trauma” is resolved when he’s considered a hero for the same people that despised him and suddenly, since he can control Kurama and is the weapon he was intended to be from the very beginning, he’s not that bad. The “Dark Naruto” that was introduced to show us how Naruto grew from being the boy that was impulsed by the hatred he felt for the rest of the villagers to the man that forgave them for what they did, translates more accurately as the transformation of the “boy who wanted to be acknowledged and did everything to show he was worth it” to the “man who will do anything to show them they weren’t wrong about trusting him”.

There’s no morph in his dream or ideals. He’s still dependable on the views others have of him, on his “usefulness”, during Shippuden, rather than overcome it, the need deepens, which is the major modifier of his character. Sasuke went from wanting to kill Itachi to revenge his clan, to understanding that there was a system that cemented the basis of the coup and allowed, encouraged, and covered the Uchiha massacre; so he went from wanting to kill a man, to want to take down the system that put him in that position to begin with (Itachi is a more complex character so I’m not going to enter in that area now). Nagato witnessed the killing of his parents at the hands of Konoha shinobi -the country that started the war in the first place-, and Yahiko later on by Hanzo -helped by Danzo-, and went from wanting to bring peace without the use of brute force (Jiraiya and Yahiko’s view), to achieve peace through justice (stripping the countries of their most powerful weapons to control the system and bring it down). Naruto went from wanting to be Hokage to be loved, to wanting to be Hokage to bring peace, but without acknowledging or trying to understand and offer solutions to the problems presented by the two most important characters to the plot (Pain and Sasuke) there was no solid base to build that peace, it would be, at best, temporary.

His idea of peace is exactly the same that Nagato saw was fruitless, and there’s nothing a single Hokage can do to change the shinobi political bureaucracy around the globe, convincing the present leader of a village does exactly nothing when the system they have to move around is the exact same that it was since the clan wars, and that’s the sole problem if we are kind enough to believe everyone will listen and act as Naruto wants. The idea of the Chain of Hatred that was the basis of Pain’s beliefs was offered no response by Naruto or his ideals, while Sasuke acknowledged the problem and suggested that the solution was for everyone to focus their hatred on just one person (himself), and start all over again, without ties to that oppressive past. Naruto replied exactly nothing to that issue, and once Pain died, he cared no more about it. Not only that, but the only time it was brought up again was when Karui physically assaulted him because of Sasuke's actions against her sensei. Naruto single-handedly decided that he deserved to be the one to receive the hatred of everyone in order to stop the “Chain of Hatred”, a solution almost identical to the one presented by Pain and Sasuke, but when fighting Sasuke during the final arc he condemned the idea of a single person carrying that weight. The contradiction of his statement a few Arcs before being beaten up for Sasuke is completely irrational writing-wise.

Sasuke grew from his hatred and wanted a revolution, Naruto did not. His characterization wasn’t allowed to become “somber” because that will shatter the reason fans were so enamored with him, will ultimately destroy the fandom’s idea of their “golden, relatable boy”. Naruto is the exact opposite of his rival, not only on his ideals but also in personality and design, if Sasuke is the one who represents the most “radical” responses and embodies a stoic personality, Naruto has to be the opposite, particularly in Shippuden when we see how Sasuke’s beliefs morphed into something entirely new.

There’s not a significant change in Naruto because he doesn’t need to, his traumas are brushed aside because people started to like him, so the reason why they hated him in the first place stopped being important and it became what gave him enough strength to become remarkable and to be relied on during the war. The system that tortured him and used him as a weapon now pats him on the back, calls him a hero, and puts Sasuke down (the one who used to be loved when he was functional to them), so now Naruto feels accepted and beliefs himself to be the one morally capable of “accepting” others into that system. Destroying it will mean questioning that “meritocracy” that put him there in the first place, because he played by its rules and it paid off, so the others should too, no matter how unfair it is.

#anti naruto #anti konoha #anti naruto fandom #analyses #uchiha sasuke #Pain (naruto)#nagato #yahiko #uchiha

99 notes · View notes

themysteriousphoenix · 3 years

Text

Letters From the Past

Newtina Week Day 3: A journey through time. (Newt and Tina go to the past/future or someone from the past/future visits them.)

Now at just over 100 years of age, Newt and Tina receive a surprise. A long-forgotten letter from Queenie, years after her death at the hands of Grindelwald.

TW: Character death mentioned.

Newt climbed the ladder of his old, beaten case, a stack of yellowed correspondence in hand. He was nearly half-way through cleaning it out after decades of research. It was time to move on, pass the case onto the next generation. His son and grandson would be taking over his work soon, though Newt felt a bittersweet clench in his chest whenever he thought about it. He was proud that they had created something wonderful between them. He worked for over eighty years to make the world better for creatures, to educate other wizards about them. He had seen protective orders, ordinances, and treaties written in dozens of countries around the world to improve their living conditions. He was proud of the work he had done. His son had continued at his side and branched off into herbology and potion testing, trying to find alternative ingredients for common potions that would not harm creatures.

Now his grandson, Rolf, had expressed interest in taking on the family business. He was currently traveling, studying creatures, plants, and whatever he fancied at the moment. He called himself a Naturalist because he was fascinated by all things in nature and yearned for the discovery of new things. Newt saw a lot of himself in his grandson. It was when he wrote to let them know that he had met a wonderful girl who he would be bringing home to meet them soon, and that he thought she might be the one, that Tina said it might be time to pass on the case.

Newt knew she was right. There were few things that Tina wasn’t right about, come to think of it, but it was still difficult to think of his case being in the care of another, even if that person was Rolf.

Newt pushed himself up and over the lip of his case, recalling how he used to run up the rickety ladder and out with ease. How fit and young he had been at thirty, though he never realized it. Time had been kind to Newt and Tina, but their bodies were not what they used to be. Years of hard work, injuries, and physical labor had seen to that.

“What do you have there?” Tina asked as she stirred the soup on the stove with her wand, her keen eyes trailing down the page of an old, stained cookbook. She glanced up at her husband as he emerged into their kitchen and placed the pile of parchment onto the table. The light from the window over their large farmhouse sink made her still-dark hair shine. Gray streaked through the soft locks that were currently pulled back away from her face into a plait that hung loosely over her shoulder. Newt still found that there were moments when she would still take his breath away, even seventy-seven years after their first meeting. He was a lucky man.

“Letters mostly,” he replied, his fingers flipping through a few of the pages on the top of the file. “I haven’t seen them in years, most are from the thirties, I’d say.” He sat down with a small grunt and leaned on his elbow, sorting the papers into piles. Tina finished adding ingredients to their dinner and joined him at the table, picking up the top piece of parchment off the pile.

“Oh, Thes,” she said with a sad smile, tracing his name with her fingertip. Newt looked up and nodded, his eyes flashing back to the paper before him.

“I know. I think most of the people these letters are from are dead now. It’s…”

“It’s hard to get old,” Tina said, finishing his thought. Newt nodded, his eyes not leaving the parchment in front of him as he read. They had both lost so much over the years, so many people that they loved and cared about, but they had lived a good life together and he wouldn’t give up the family they had created to change anything in their past. It was still heartbreaking to think that neither of their siblings had lived to see their niece or nephew grow up, even though it had been more than half a century since they had been put to rest.

“Who is that one from?” Tina asked, pulling a faded, lavender envelope from the stack.

“Mr. Worme.” Newt flipped the letter over and read the few lines on the back before placing it gently onto a pile. “It was congratulating me on my seventh edition and updating me on its progress and publication.”

“Oh, goodness. That must have been in thirty-six? Thirty-seven??”

“Thirty-five,” Newt corrected her with a smile, pulling another envelope from the pile. “They all sort of run together. I can’t keep track of the dates myself.”

Tina flipped the unopened envelope in her hand over and she stilled, her eyes growing wide. Newt noticed her change of mood immediately.

“What is it, Love?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he pulled the envelope from her fingers gently. He flipped it over to see the writing on the front. “Is that…?”

“Queenie.” Tina’s eyes were wide and tears were brimming in their chocolatey depths. Her sister had been a tough topic for years. Tina, though she knew that Queenie had made her own tough choices all those years ago, still carried guilt with her. She still blamed herself for driving her little sister into Grindelwald’s circle, and later, for not being able to save her when she tried to run from it. Her death stung, far more than watching Theseus fall in the final battle, far more than the peaceful death that Jacob had seen at the age of 90 a few years back. Hers had been the hardest by far.

Taking the envelope back, she stared at it for a few more moments. “It’s not opened...and it’s addressed to you.”

Newt shook his head, confused. “I don’t remember that one at all. I would have remembered if she had tried to contact me, it would have stood out. It happened so infrequently that…” Newt stood and walked around the table, lowering himself into the chair at his wife’s side. “Do you want to open it?”

“I- I think so,” Tina mumbled, her gathered tears breaking through her lashes and cascading down her cheek, “I...no. You open it. It’s addressed to you.”

“It’s for you, though. You know it is.” Newt’s hand rested lightly on her shoulder, his fingers passing lightly over her upper back in a practiced motion. “Do you want me to read it to you?”

With a sniff and a nod, Tina passed the letter over to Newt who opened the wax seal carefully and pulled out a letter on matching stationary. He watched as Tina pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes before leaning on the table and watching out the window, listening. Unfolding the letter, Newt looked at the familiar handwriting with a pang of sadness and something akin to a long-held frustration and anger. He cleared his throat and began to read.

February 12, 1934

My dear Newt,

I know that you will be surprised to hear from me. You may not want to, and if that is the case, then I understand. I have done things that make me ashamed beyond explanation, and for that, I am truly sorry. I left Teenie, and I can never go back to the way things were. I did that, and I have regretted it ever since. I thought that what I was doing was right, but over time I have realized that Gellert was not truthful or forthcoming with his goals. Thank you for being the family for her that I could not be. Thank you for loving her the way that she deserves to be loved.

I heard the news of your first child in the Daily Prophet. Congratulations. I am so happy and proud of you both. You will be wonderful parents, she is a lucky little girl. I wish that I was able to meet her, but I fear that it might never happen now. Please give her a kiss from her Auntie Queenie with love.

I am leaving Nurmengard tomorrow. I know that there are several Aurors on watch and correspondence is being checked. I do not know if Tina’s correspondence is among those, they keep any information about Tina a secret from me, even now. I didn’t want to take a chance and have this letter be intercepted. I figured sending a letter by no-maj post to you would be safest.

Please, tell her how sorry I am. I made these choices and I take full blame for my actions. She has been my everything since we were children, and she will continue to be my everything until the day I die. Tell her that I love her. She deserves nothing but the best in life, and that is all I hope for her. Tell her that I would be by her side right now if I could do this all over again. I’m not sure if I will make it to England or not, that is where I am trying to go. If I do, I will be in contact again. If I do not, please forgive me for what I have done. Not only here with Gellert, but to you both. Especially to Tina. I know my sister, and I know that she has probably tried to take responsibility for what happened in Paris. Don’t let her live her life thinking that she was responsible, Newt. She wasn’t. It was my choice that led me here.

I hope that I can tell her these things in person soon. Please be watching for an owl from me in the coming weeks. If the worst should happen, I am sure that you will hear through the Ministry. I am running, not because I am scared, but because I know that Gellert Grindelwald is a manipulator and a liar. I cannot stand with him any longer. I know that I will face prison time when I arrive in England, but I will do what I can to help the resistance working against him.

I am sending love to you both, and I hope that you will allow me to see you soon. I will be in touch. Please also share these sentiments with Jacob as I have no address for him. I don’t know where he is and I will probably never see him again, but I only wish him happiness. I hope he can forgive me someday.

All my love and devotion, always,

Queenie

A pause followed Newt’s reading, interrupted only by Tina’s choked sobs as she clutched her handkerchief to her face. Newt stared at the letter in his hand, the other resting along Tina’s back and trying to soothe her with a light touch. He realized that he was also crying as tears began to blur the words before him. Clearing his throat, he removed his glasses and used his shirt sleeve to dab at his eyes.

Tina sighed and looked up at Newt, her eyes were red and tears still streamed down her face. He set the letter on the table and thumbed the tears away from her slightly-wrinkled face, cupping her cheek lightly as he had done thousands of times before. She leaned into the touch and then her face buried itself into his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his waist. She seemed to be calming now as she took deep, steadying breaths.

“She never made it,” Tina mumbled into Newt’s shoulder, her despair heavy in her voice. Newt closed his eyes and held her close.

“I know.” He shook his head as he laid the letter down and wrapped his other arm around Tina, surrounding her. She continued to cry into his shoulder, her sobs and hiccuping breaths growing farther apart as she calmed. She took deep breaths and Newt played with the wisps of hair that had escaped their confines at the nape of her neck. “I can’t believe you found that letter. I never knew it existed.”

“I know,” she responded, pulling away from him and wiping the remnants of her tears away with her handkerchief. “She sent it by muggle post, it probably got mixed in with the fan mail. The purple envelope saw to that.” They both laughed, softly and awkwardly in the solemn moment, as they thought back on the piles of fan mail that had arrived over the years from witches of all ages and walks of life. Thankfully, it had tapered off after a couple of decades and they were left in peace with only scholarly letters of interest scattered here and there.

“Thank Merlin I never get rid of anything…” Tina snorted and shook her head, dabbing at her eyes once more. She inhaled deeply through her nose and then released her breath through her mouth, her face downcast as she twisted the cloth in her hands absently. “How are you, Love?” Newt asked softly.

“I’m… okay,” Tina whispered without looking up. “Surprised, sad, angry… happy to hear from her… I don’t really know how I feel right now.”

Newt nodded, picking the letter up and looking at it again. “That’s completely understandable. It’s a lot to take in after so long. I wish we had seen it sooner.”

“I wish Jacob had seen it,” Tina continued, and Newt hummed in agreement.

“He forgave her long ago.”

“I know he did. He was so… good.” Tina said with a wistful smile, her eyes closing at the wash of memories. “He deserved closure too, though.”

“Do you feel that this was closure, then?” Newt asked carefully.

“I- kind of? Maybe a little.” Tina said, her voice hoarse after her burst of emotions. “I’m glad to have it. I’m… I’m glad that she ran for the right reasons. I wish, so much, that she would have made it to England. She could have been…”

“She would have been a part of our family again, even if she would have been in prison. She always was in a way.” Newt watched as Tina’s dark eyes rose to meet his, they were bloodshot, and tears still threatened to fall, but they were still as bright as they had ever been. “I always considered her family, even if she was never here.”

“I know you did. You never had to, but you did.” Tina leaned forward and hugged Newt properly. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair, and he felt her arms tighten around his back.

“I love you, too.”

Tina pulled away and used the heel of her hand to brush an escaped tear from her cheek. She lightly, gently grabbed the letter and envelope from the table. Folding the letter carefully, she slid it back into its home and tucked it carefully into the pocket of her long, woolen sweater.

“I’m going for a walk,” Tina said, standing slowly from her chair. “I need a bit of fresh air, I think.”

“Right,” Newt agreed. “Do you want company?” He knew the answer already, but he wanted to make sure she was okay after the shock she had just received.

“I don’t think so,” she said, a small forced smile crossing her face, “I think I need a bit of time alone to think.” Newt nodded and Tina bent down to place a light kiss on the top of his head. “Keep an eye on dinner for me?” she asked as she made her way to the door.

“Of course, I’ll take care of things here.” With a nod, Tina slipped through the door and began to walk up the path. Through the window, Newt watched as she paused to pull the lavender letter from her sweater pocket and pull the letter out. She continued walking toward the pasture, her eyes trained on her sister’s final words. He smiled at the sight, thankful that Queenie had been able to pay her sister one final visit with her words from the past, even if it had come years later than intended.

Thanks for the visit, Queenie, he thought, hoping that wherever she was now, that she was finally at peace.

#newtina #fbawtft #newt scamander #newtina fanfiction #tina goldstein #newt x tina #fbatcog #post-cog #fantastic fanfiction #ashley writes #newtina ff #newtinaweek2020

27 notes · View notes

you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

Photo

Hola Mishamigos! It’s Friday and I am here with more nonsense from my SPN rewatch - dudes, we are all SLEEPING on Season 11, in both good and bad ways. There is so much in just the first trifecta of “Out of the Darkness, Into the Fire;” “Form and Void;” and “Bad Seed” (since “Baby” deserves her own analysis) - so come relive my rewatch with me. This is a summary of some things that stood out for me (few are analysis, most are clowning; basically this is a pared down live tweet - you’re welcome/I'm sorry); copy/paste from the script is included with my own emphasis:

OUT OF THE DARKNESS INTO THE FIRE [11x01]

-There’s lots more to this episode, but really this is the most important and relevant part (also it’s too soon and I am offended, damaged, attacked and hurt) -

DEAN: Yeah, whoa. All right, take -- take it easy, okay? (gesturing to the deputy’s wound) Bad guys?

JENNA: Rebar. I sought cover. I fell.

***LIKE EXCUSE ME, but what in the actual fuck. Did they just decide to pull that from the episode four years later to emotionally traumatize us in the subsequent rewatches? I know it’s probably coincidence but my sad soul has not recovered *enough* for rebar’s first SPN appearance to be right now in this moment when I am blissfully 5 entire seasons away from the dead end in the road.

- The only other important part of this episode - when Dean takes the call from Cas privately first before putting it on speaker for Sam, and something about this exchange is so endearing-

(Dean’s phone rings)

DEAN: Where the hell are you, Cas?

(The scene flips between Sam and Dean at the hospital, and Castiel in the woods.)

CASTIEL: I'm...I'm okay.

DEAN: You don't sound okay.

CASTIEL: Dean, I am fine. Besides, what I have, you can't help me.

DEAN: What do you mean, what you have?

CASTIEL: Just please tell Sam -- Rowena escaped with the Book of the Damned and the codex.

DEAN: Okay, forget Rowena. Where are you?

CASTIEL: Now, you tell me -- the Mark . . .

DEAN: Oh, really? You're worried about me after everything that I’ve --

CASTIEL: Dean, is it gone?

DEAN: Yes. I'm good. I mean, I'm not great.

CASTIEL: Makes two of us. (Dean puts Cas on speakerphone) This is good news.

SAM: Hey, Cas.

CASTIEL: Sam.

***It’s just so poignant that Dean wanted privacy for the first minutes of that call, probably because he is still haunted about the beating he gave Cas in 10 and *other things,* and Cas is literally being torn apart by Rowena’s curse but he only cares about Dean getting rid of the Mark, and the world is ending but Dean only cares about Cas and where he is - honestly this scene - I’m -

***Further thoughts on the Animal Curse/Cas/Dean below under 11x03

FORM AND VOID [11x02]

(love the Genesis call back to this verse in the title - “And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.”)

-speaking of emotional trauma, this fucking shit again -

JENNA: Yeah. I pretty much grew up here. Learned to ride my bike down the road. Had my first kiss at that blue house over there. Lost my virginity up there (pointing to different house).

DEAN: I'll bet blue house was pissed.

JENNA: She was. (handing Amara to Dean) Do you mind?

***This frustrated/disappointed/angered/saddened me to NO END despite already knowing that it happens constantly on the show, because what was the reason?! Did they have to point out that she had a female love interest for this brief moment just to turn her evil and kill her off? There was no need to include this detail. It’s either blatant homophobia or willful ignorance (so also blatant homophobia) that this is what representation means. I won’t go on because obviously we are aware of this and much has already been said/written about it, but still, fuck this.

-we meet Billie and there is more “FORESHADOWING”-

QUEEN IS SINGING “OH DEATH” aka Death’s entrance song from Season 5 and I am BLOWN AWAY by this almost as much as her amazing voice - like did they know at this point she would become the new Death season later? DID THEY KNOW? I need answers.

Seriously, go listen to it immediately; bask in its glory:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFOm5i6b56o

We also get our first mention of the Empty, so that’s cute that they referenced both Dean’s and Cas’s Season 15 ‘demises’ in the same episode (it’s not cute really and I am crying again now) ->

BILLIE: You and Dean . . . Dying and coming back again and again. The old death thought it was funny. But now there's one hard, fast rule in this universe. What lives . . . dies. So the next time you or your brother bite it, well, you're not going to Heaven . . . Or Hell. One of us -- and, Lord, I hope it's me -- we're gonna make a mistake and toss you out into the Empty. And nothing comes back from that. I know you're dying. I can feel it. You're unclean in the biblical sense. So I'll be seeing you again, Sam . . . Seeing you real soon. Name's Billie, by the way.

-another reason for me to continue denying the flaming trash heap that they tried to call the series finale-

Sam is dying here because he has been infected by the Darkness-vein-animal-exploding-people-plague so he goes to pray about it

SAM: So . . . I know it's been a long time, but . . . Dean and I, we've -- we've been through a lot of bad. But this is different. This is my fault, and I don't know how to fix it. And if I have to die, I've made my peace with that, but . . . Please. Dean deserves better. Dean deserves a life. There are people out there, good people, who are going to suffer because of me, and I am not asking you to clean up my mess. Hell, I don't even know if you're out there, but . . . If you are . . . And if you can hear me, I, um . . . We need your help, God. We need to know there's hope. We need a sign.

**DABB WROTE THIS F-ING EPISODE. How are you going to write Dean deserves a life here to just do what you did Dabb. Don’t get me started on my feelings about this scene in the dark depths of my finale-denying soul. DEAN DESERVES BETTER INDEED, SEASON 11 SAM.

To rub salt in this particular wound, they show us THE cutest scenes of Dean with this damn baby so we can have feelings about how great of a parent he could be (also I ADORE that whenever Jared, Jensen, or Misha have scenes in later seasons with young children/babies it is SO clear they slip into their own natural dad mode without even noticing it; these guys just all seem like excellent fathers and it makes me mushy) and even Crowley picks up on that shit and makes his little ex-boyfriend joke (after Demon Dean and most of season 10 there is no way I will ever NOT believe that Crowley and Dean did not take a tumble; I will take no criticism):

CROWLEY: The child likes you. No surprise, really. You're very maternal.

LIKE WHAT IS THIS:

Speaking of King Jackles, next comes the episode he directed ->

BAD SEED [11x03]

-Cas/Dean parallels with the Attack Dog Spell/Mark of Cain-

This arc appears in the 10 finale and then runs through the first three episodes, culminating in this one. Despite it hurting my heart to see our angel so bloody eyed and feral, I LOVED this parallel; it’s truly brilliant - Cas’s reaction to the attack dog spell is such a mirror to the way Dean dealt with the Mark most of 10. It’s also beautiful that Dean is the only one that can pull Cas from the spell’s control at the end of this episode; that alley scene between the two of them in 11x02 is so tender and sweet. I like to think this brought an entire new layer of depth to their connection, because no one truly understood how Dean felt under the influence of the Mark until now (someone write a fan fic about this exchange!!!!!!) I *love* this journey for them (please say that sentence in Alexis Rose in your head). Bonus that the episode containing my most favorite of *domestic* phone calls with Dean and Cas follows this one, and also Dean’s SHORT SHORTS follow because now he is just walking around the bunker in short shorts while Cas is there and I maintain this is because of this new level of closeness. As previously stated I ACCEPT NO criticism.

ALSO OF COURSE THE FACE CUP THAT JENSEN HIMSEF DIRECTED HIMSELF TO DO. I STAN A KING. I HEREBY DEMAND AT LEAST ONE FACE CUP PER EPISODE OF THE MINI SERIES JENSEN.

***I just saw something posted by @watchthebeesandfish back in 2015 when digging around the internet re: this episode - that this was the first time both Dean/Cas had seen each other as “themselves” since that heart wrenching bridge scene in 9x10, when Dean walks away from Sam/Cas after the Gadreel possession reveal (he goes on to take the Mark of Cain in the following episode, and has it the rest of the season through season 10 finale). That is brilliant and accurate and I BOW DOWN in humility to that parallel. I now love this scene a billion times more. *single [wo]man tear* Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this little trip down memory lane, thanks as always for getting through my rambling, and HAPPY FACE CUPPING FOREVER.

#destiel #deancas #spn #spn family #spn fandom #sen season 11 #spn recap #spn analysis #spn clowning #heller #jackles #king jackles #but why not write an entire live tweet dissertation of my spn rewatch #spn subtext

28 notes · View notes

bluecoloreddreams · 4 years

Text

(Disclaimer: this contains spoilers for the Fruits Basket and Fruits Basket: Another manga, as well as taking into consideration tidbits from Takaya’s twitter.)

So, okay, first of all we have to address the YMMV aspect: Some people don’t like this ship. As long as they’re respectful, I have no beef with that. I’m well aware that some people cannot/choose not to make the distinction between “real life” and “fiction”— I have the luxury of this choice, so some of the “problematic” ships/character aspects within Furuba don’t bother me (for the most part). It’s fiction, and I’m aware of this.

Again, some people cannot/do not make this distinction, and that’s none of my business because that’s their personal life. I’m aware that people dislike aspects of Akigure, and that’s fine.

Personally? I’ve been reading Furuba since like, basically the dawn of time. I was reading scans on, like, MSN groups. I remember a friend at church (of all places) telling me about the Akito reveal because I was behind on updates. It’s literally engrained upon my shipping heart at this point.

(Headcanons ahoy! Like literally, this is all headcanon/my perspective on the series as a whole. YMMV/YKINMK/Dead Dove, the whole works, if you know you know

YES I wrote it like it’s an actual research paper because I have No Chill At All, please forgive me. It’s long and pretty rambling.)

Addressing the first elephant in the room: Given my limited interactions with the fandom, my impression of Akigure from a generalized fan POV is that it’s pretty divisive. Every episode she comes up there are “I hate this kid” comments and I cry

Akito is a favorite of mine, and it’s impossible for anime-only’s to make a deep, informed call on her character. On the other hand, a lot of manga-readers dislike her too.

So, why am I talking about whether or not people like Akito as a character?

I’m of the opinion that it impacts people’s ability to view her character arc as one that deserves a happy ending. That she doesn’t deserve to have love, happiness, or forgiveness, all of which are given to her when she and Shigure finally end up together on equal footing. (Do I think the way it’s rushed in the original Furuba ending? Yeah, but hey. Sensei had like a huge ensemble cast to wrap ends on. Now there’s Furubana to look to and it’s just chef’s kiss.)

There’s a mental aspect in this, involving the dichotomy between “reality” and “fiction”.

There is absolutely zero argument that are a lot of things that Akito does that uh, listen, if it was IRL she’d be in jail! Jail for terror baby! Jail for life!

Fortunately, Fruits Basket is a work of fiction. These characters aren’t real, they’re idealized brushstrokes of human nature created to move a plot and a message along.

That’s why Akito and Shigure work as a couple and as characters:

They’re both incredibly deep characters that get passed off as one-dimensional by a lot of people (and the original anime, woof). Some of it is again, because anime-only fans just don’t have the whole story, since Akito’s arc is one that builds gradually until it hits a point where all hell breaks loose, which we are a ways away from.

So what’s the message that their relationship and characters are supposed to pass on?

Well, it breaks down into two categories: world building and thematic arcs. The latter is more important and what I’ll be focusing on, while the former is just a little spice that I, personally enjoy, and won’t really talk about in depth. (It’s that the magical realism in Furuba sets up the idea of soulmates, it’s just…. Something I enjoy and it’s really heacanony, so I can’t really justify spending more words on it!)

When discussing Fruits Baskets in any capacity, I feel like we must first keep in mind the thematic “lessons” of the series:

There is an inherent loneliness in living as a human being, since loss, grief, and hurt are indelible parts of the human experience, and learning to cope with these feelings in a compassionate manner is a life-long lesson

People react differently to the loneliness of existence, and their reactions are based upon their personalities, their upbringings, and their own choices

Everyone is capable of change and learning, if they choose to do so, however:

Personal agency is taught, but in the vacuum of positive reinforcement, the ability of a person to choose to be compassionate is stifled or outright inaccessible

Therefore, if you are not taught to deal with your grief and existence outside of others, your ability to connect may become warped, manipulative, or abusive, and this is not the fault of the child but instead the parental figure

Eventually, you will be aware of your actions, and then it is your burden to choose—some people do not take this choice (the head maid, Ren, Kyo’s bio dad, Rin’s parents, Sawa’s mother in Furubana)

Abuse has long lasting effects on the psyche and can be physical, emotional, and/or mental in nature and must be dealt with in order to grow as a person

“Dealt with” does not mean that it goes away, but that it is acknowledged and given a positive outlet (Yuki’s garden, Aaya’s shop, Rin’s art, Momiji’s violin playing)

Forgiveness is not linear

Forgiving yourself is a long and arduous process, and happens independent of other people’s forgiveness

This is really brought to the forefront in Fruits Basket: Another, when Shiki talks about how his mother interacts with the rest of the Sohma family. It’s shown she’s done what she can to make amends, but recognizes that while she can individually hold relationships with certain family members, as a whole, it's best if she allows them to be away from her.

This is a whole tangent on its own, but there’s a certain blanket of casual forgiveness given to Akito by the entirety of the shown Zodiac in Furubana, in that they trust that she’s raised a kind and thoughtful son and allow him the grace of his own family.

Again, in Takaya’s tweets post-series that acknowledges that Akito’s friends with Uo-chan, despite her relationship with Kureno (and it shows a depth of awareness on Kureno’s part that he stays away

People flourish in environments where love and positive reinforcement is given freely, even when people are in the wrong

This doesn’t mean that no one is ever scolded: see Komaki and Kakeru, Kisa and Hiro, Hatori chews out Shigure all the time, but never ceases being his confidant

So okay, that’s A Lot. But every single character in Furuba follows these themes in their own manner, because the series is about healing and learning how to heal from abuse, neglect, and isolation. Someone’s gonna have to be doing it. Point blank, the end, to tell a story there must be conflict, and boy howdy, there’s a lot of conflict in Furuba. Every personal thematic arc in the series ends up tying into a romantic one, because Furuba is a romcom drama.

There’s a loop that goes “personal betterment”->”crush”/”friendship”->”conflict”->”personal growth”/”relationship growth” in the series for every character. That’s the bread and butter of Furuba.

But anyway. To the question:

I love them because they work, they’re both their own people with their own narrative focuses, motivations, conflicts, and flaws. Both Shigure and Akito are believable in their own right in the context of Furuba, and I think Takaya did wonderfully in crafting a story where their personalities mesh well and give each other reasons to better themselves.

To talk about them together, you have to talk about them separately.

I’m gonna start with Shigure because, truthfully?

I just want to lament about how often he’s simply passed off as either comic relief or absolute trash. He’s so underestimated!

“He’s a joke of a grown man… He is reliable and I trust him.” (Another, v. 3)

He’s incredibly intelligent when it comes to interpersonal relationships, which is why he’s able to do what he does. He’s also incredibly kind—no one made him take in Yuki or Kyo or Tohru. He could have just went “ah, I’d prefer not to” and moved on. But he didn’t, made up some bullshit so Haru would feel like taking in Yuki was a transaction, and let me just tell you, I am the same age as Shigure and if you gave ME three teenagers to be the guardian of?! It would be a full on disaster.

He’s actually incredibly trustworthy (if he wants to be), insightful, and a genuinely good guardian despite his jokes and wisecracking.

He forced Kyo to go back to school, knowing full well it would be good for him. He lets a whole host of children run rampant through his home. Kids who actually enjoy his presence. He’s shown as having a good familial relationship with Rin (who tries to warp that for her own means), Kisa, Haru, and Momiji. His advice to Tohru is genuine, insightful, and ridiculously helpful.

Shigure is good with people. He gets up at the crack of dawn to drive Shiki to see Sawa in Furubana. He’s who Mutsuki and Hajime immediately go “holy shit you need to do something about this” to when they find out Shiki’s getting nasty notes about Akito. He’s who Shiki goes to when Sawa fell down the stairs as a child. As much as Shiki and the others make fun of Shigure, he’s obviously someone who’s trustworthy. And that’s not some new development, he’s always been trustworthy in regards to those he loves. No one asked him to show up to Tohru’s teacher conference, he volunteered. Like this dude loves people, he’s the dog spirit after all, and rightly so.

Does he have his own motivations? Of course! But so does everyone else in Furuba. He’s a complex character, man!

He laughs and jokes a lot because he’s projecting this image of a laid back, doofus. When you think about who he’s friends with, the whole middling goofball act makes a lot of sense. Just like some of Ayame’s over the top behavior is a defense mechanism, I believe that Shigure casts himself as a generally unappealing man to keep himself safe from advances when he was in school, but also to temper the wildly unequal personalities of his other two friends. He’s the sort of person who would just go “eh, whatever makes it easy”, and that’s just how he is.

He doesn’t mean the creepy school girl thing, it’s a bit and I think the only people who don’t realize he’s running a bit are Yuki, Kyo, and Tohru who are absolutely too stupid to realize he’s playing them for reactions. He thinks it’s funny.

Anyway:

When the older Zodiac had the dream of Shigure, Shigure is the only one who made the active choice to seek out that feeling. His soul was touched, and he decided that he wanted that and only that. This doesn’t necessarily mean he went full Jacob from Breaking Dawn, but it does mean he acknowledged there was a bond, and he wanted it.

When you get into the technicalities of the curse, it’s mentioned that their Zodiac spirits influence how they interact with Akito, and that going against her can cause physical and emotional pain. Yuki cries when meeting her, and it’s mentioned that that’s just the normal reaction for the Zodiacs.

It’s hard to say how much of their early interactions are influenced by the curse, but it’s obvious that Shigure has genuine fondness for her. She wasn’t always absolutely broken, as shown in Yuki’s backstory, and was a precocious child, one who sought affection openly.

Shigure has an indulgent personality, and is shown to love being adored. Guess who loves him! Akito! Guess who wants lots and lots of affection! Akito!

Their personalities are very well matched as they get older: They’re both intelligent and coy. They both have fairly sharp tongues when needed, and have no qualms about doing whatever it takes to get what they want.

Shigure wants Akito to be independent from the curse. He’s made it clear to her he doesn’t want to be her father, he doesn’t want to be her friend, he wants to be her lover. Those are boundaries that Akito’s never been given before, and his frankness with her and his jealousy with Kureno is something she agonizes over, simply because she’s never been given any sort of serious interpersonal boundaries, or repercussions for her actions. He’s always kept himself separate from her, because of those boundaries, even when they were children.

That’s important. It opens the door to the idea that her actions have consequences, and is a persistent nagging in the back of her mind.

“Even though you hadn’t realized it, I was waiting for that day.” (ch 101)

For the bulk of the series, the only person who sees Akito as a person separate from the curse, and sees a future where she can grow is Akito. He has an extraordinary amount of patience for her, and forgives her for a lot.

There are only two incidents that Shigure cannot forgive: Her sleeping with Kureno, and at the very end of the series, I’m of the full opinion that if Akito had pushed Tohru off the cliff, Shigure would have been done with her. Look at that expression, that is the look of someone who is toeing the line of throwing away all his hopes and dreams. If she really had pushed Tohru, I just...... The series would have taken a much darker tone.

OKAY that’s enough about our favorite terrible author! (Okay, an aside, Shigure, please share your work ethic, you goof off so much but you’ve published so many things…how…)

ONTO AKITO!

“I’ve finally realized… she hated her own shallowness all this time, from the very start.” // “It’s frightening because you have no choices.” (ch 121)

A lot of people dislike Akito because she, for the bulk of the manga, is violent, manipulative and just downright unpleasant. And that’s fine, but it’s not the point of her arc or the themes of the manga. (It is, however, the point of Rin’s: you don’t have to forgive everyone.)

She’s not the only violent person in the series. If we as readers can forgive Uo-chan and Kyoko, or even Hana-chan for her moment of violence, why can we not extend the same grace to Akito?

Violence is often shown as a knee-jerk reaction to fear and sadness: Kyoko, Uo, Hana, Kyo, Rin, and Akito all react violently to negative situations and feelings. Even Kisa reacts violently when she’s at her worst, biting both Haru and Tohru when she’s in her tiger form, which is shown to actually cause pain like a real tiger would. (It’s played for laughs, but has anyone been bitten for realsies by a house cat? That hurts! How much more would a house-cat sized tiger hurt!!!)

Out of all of them, Hanajima and Kisa are the only characters to show immediate remorse, because they have what the others don’t: A positive support system. Once positive role models and support systems are in place, all of the others begin to learn how to react differently and ease out of the knee-jerk reactions that were ingrained in them.

It’s made explicit in the manga that you have to be taught how to react positively, you have to learn and choose to be good, to be friendly, to love yourself outside of others’ perceptions of yourself. Look at Yuki’s arc. Look at Uo-chan’s. Kyoko’s.

Yuki sums it up nicely in the last chapter of the manga, where he tells Tohru that she taught the Zodiac how to become human. She allows them to grow into people who can make the choice to be loving, compassionate individuals.

Just because Akito doesn’t interact positively with Tohru for the bulk of the manga, it doesn’t make it any less true:

Akito is kept in a juvenile state of being: No one teaches her to suck it up, that the world exists outside of herself, that other people are people and not things. In fact, she’s actively encouraged to act the way she does. She’s incredibly broken, between the maids of the Sohma estate just… allowing her to do whatever the fuck she wants and her absolutely jacked up relationship with Ren and Akira. She has no moral compass at all. No one bothers to teach her that her actions have serious consequences.

She knows, in a roundabout way that hey, these people don’t like me. There’s a serious mental dissonance between what she latently knows—these are all people with no connection to her other than the bond of the curse. This is why Tohru is able to break through to her at the climax of the manga:

She knows she’s wrong, but no one has ever told her she’s wrong but understood why she’s doing it. Akito just didn’t have the words to explain herself. What do children do when they cannot communicate? They lash out. Kids will bite, scratch, yell, kick, fall to the floor and have screaming tantrums out of frustration. Eventually, most kids learn that there are other ways to express frustration, and move along. (Not all, though, but most.)

Akito was taught that this is acceptable, allowable, and is her right as god. She is actively broken and kept that way through the neglect of the Sohma family maids, Ren’s abuse, and how Akira framed her role in the Zodiac.

I can go on and on and on and on why the way Akito was treated for her role in the Zodiac by her parents and the rest of the Sohma estate was just awful. I hate it, it’s terrible, she never had a chance to learn and grow and be the genuinely thoughtful woman we know she grows into.

She doesn’t force her path of forgiveness onto others and is fully cognizant of what she did, the repercussions of her actions, and lives her entire life after the curse breaks trying to right what she did wrong.

“Even if she gets hurt, she says she deserves it. She tells me not to let it bother me, but… I’ve always, always loved her so much.” (Another, ch. 13)

Tohru opens the door for Akito. She extends her hand, offers her friendship despite having seen the absolute worst of Akito. She tells Akito that everyone is lonely, everyone wants bonds, and acknowledges Akito’s worst fears, that Akito herself is selfish and dirty for wanting something assured and unending because she, Tohru, herself is dirty and selfish. Tohru knows what Akito has done, knows she’s injured some of her beloved friends, had plans to lock up Kyo, hurt Hatori.

Tohru still forgives her. One of Tohru’s striking traits in the manga is that she is suffering, every day, she struggles with the grief of losing her mother and the fear of being alone in the world. Through nothing but her own empathy and realization that loneliness is universal, she’s able to forgive people. She forgives Akito and cares for her, and through Tohru, Akito is introduced to the realization that she’s been wrong and that maybe, she shouldn’t be forgiven.

Shigure also forgives her, and this is the crux of their ship.

To me, that itself is wildly important.

They’ve always circled around each other, and Shigure has always been waiting for Akito to be able to come to him again, in full control of her life and choices. He wants Akito the woman, not Akito the god.

He’s been waiting for the day Akito can meet him as an equal. Akito wants it too, and has wanted him to turn and see her for a very very long time. But she’s been terrified, the entire time, that when he does see her as herself, Shigure won’t like what he sees, and will leave. She’s aware of what she’s done post-curse, she’s aware of the impacts it will have on the former Zodiac members, and she’s aware that once the “bonds” of god and the animals is gone, there may not be anyone left for her.

Neither of them are under any illusions at the end of the series: Akito knows she has to atone for what she did, Shigure knows she has to learn to grow into a person who can function alone. They both know that there are people who are against them changing the oppressive structure of the Sohma family.

Neither of them care. There are things that they want, together, and it’s enough. There’s a whole new world for them to explore and learn about. And in Furubana, this is shown to be a lifelong effort on their parts:

“She said after meeting me, she learned so many things for the first time. She smiled happily as she said it.” (Another, #13)

To close, I’d like to take a moment to talk about the curse and Shigure, and how he set things in motion.

Without Shigure, the curse would have devolved on its own, yes, but the circumstances would not have allowed for the freedom the Zodiac had at the end of the manga. It would not have ended with Akito being able to learn and live freely. Allowing Tohru into the Sohma family cracked open a door to compassion and kindness none of them had ever experienced before, because the Sohma family seems to exist in a vacuum of stability and love.

It wasn’t that Shigure knew instantly that Tohru was kind and loving and thoughtful, if anything, his read on her was “completely normal, albeit strange, teenage girl who obviously has a rough life”. But she was normal, she was from outside the Sohmas, and he knew that was enough. No one in the family was stepping up to change the status quo and how stifling and abusive it was, so he did it himself.

He did it because he loved Akito.

Not because he felt bad for himself, or Hatori, or any of the others, but merely because he loved her to the point of manipulation. It backfired in his face, because he got a big ol’ dose of “loving and respecting” juice from Tohru, but he still got the end he wanted.

What I mean to say is best summarized in chapter 123:

“It would be nice to live in a kind world, without any troubles, without any fear, without hurting anybody, without ever being hurt, only doing the right thing. I wish I could reach this kind world by the shortest path possible. … “That’s wrong”, or “that’s stupid”: If it’s someone else’s life it’s so easy to make such irresponsible comments. ...It would be great, but it doesn’t exist. … Little by little, walking one step at a time, is all you can do.”

We get to experience the roughest part of the path with Akito and Shigure, we got to watch them be terrible people who were lonely and in want of love struggle and learn how to get up and move on.

They tease each other, Shigure is thoughtful of the distinction between “the person Akito was raised to be” and “the person who Akito is”. He’s seen her at her messiest, and she’s seen him at his most jealous. They still chose each other, despite the hurt they caused each other, and others. They make up for it, reflect, and live a life that demonstrates that they have learned. They have friends who are thoughtful and loving and would not hesitate to drop everything and help them, lend an ear when they’re frustrated, help them not to make the same mistakes.

And then we get to see them be wonderful, kind, thoughtful, loving parents in Furubana.

We got to see their adorable, kind, compassionate child be friends with the children of the people Akito hurt, because everyone in the former Zodiac’s family collectively decided “never again, no”.

Their child adores them. Shiki in Furubana #13 radiates love for Akito and Shigure the same way Mutsuki and Hajime do.

They are genuinely good parents, even when they tease Shiki, and I think that is testament for how good they are for each other and how much they’ve changed as adults.

I think that’s enough of a reason to ship them, don’t you?

#Mitkun writes stuff #fruits basket manga spoilers #fruits basket another #fruits basket spoilers #akigure #fruits basket akito #fruits basket shigure

66 notes · View notes

varibean · 4 years

Text

quoththecomic replied to your post “Quirin was actually responsible for getting himself encased in amber...”

Honestly, if Quirin had been honest with Varian I doubt he would've been encased, other than that, it was just a really unfortunate accident overall. I only blame Quirin for not being honest.

aoweifj i’m sorry ahead of time for using this reply to get out my thoughts on their relationship but i saw this and figured i’d talk about it a bit

also OREIWJ i’m about to go way too in depth here for a magical hair show i’m so sorry

while it was an unfortunate accident overall, personally i think that quirin not being more honest with varian has more repercussions than ppl give credit for, not just here but in situations and their relationship as a whole. because when you look at varian and quirin’s interactions (what little we have in the show since they’re not main characters) honesty and acceptance and lack there of play a big role in a lot of the bad shit that happens to them

starting off with What In The Hair, i feel like a lot of the time ppl like to point out that varian is destructive, that of course Quirin would be nervous and hesitant to be truthful around varian because that could lead to him getting hurt. but lets look at the boiler incident to start off with

they erupted and destroyed the town, yeah. but varian was trying to specifically keep them a secret, and once they did cause damage quirin had his ‘not again varian’ moment. but the thing is, varian has to keep all of this stuff secret. yeah he has his lab and the shed that he uses, but quirin isn’t involved with his life, or his aspirations and goals. varian has to keep all of this stuff hidden from quirin, and each experiment is just a desperate attempt to get his father’s approval and positive attention

what if quirin had let him practice freely? if he didn’t react to varian’s mistakes in a way that made him feel like he had to hide these things from him? if you have a child and that child screws up, their first thought shouldn’t be ‘i can’t let my parent know’, it should be ‘i want to tell my parent so that they’ll help me.’

varian and quirin don’t have that kind of relationship. from how varian hides his experiments and holes away in his lab, we can see that even though he’s desperate for praise, he’s fearful of rejection. this is a fault on quirin’s part. as a father, he should’ve cultivated a relationship where varian could be honest with him if an experiment wasn’t going how he intended; i feel like this would’ve caused a lot less damage in the long run because at the first sign of a mistake varian wouldn’t try to hide it or act like it wasn’t there, he’d go to his dad for help as a child should with their parent

but instead he tries to fix it himself because of the fear of rejection, trying desperately to solve mistakes on his own so that his father won’t know he messed up, because instead of understanding for messing up, there’s rejection and disappointment. they lack that trust and honesty with each other and that falls on quirin. and ppl can say ‘well what about varian’s responsibilities-’ he’s quirin’s child, and it’s the parents responsibility to pave the way for and honest and open relationship

now let’s cut to the incident with the amber

to start off with, just to mention, varian saying “the important part is that we got a reaction” in reference to the rocks and his experiments can also reflect his and quirin’s relationship. his father is emotionally distant to the point where he just wants some kind of reaction to him. he was so shocked and surprised that quirin would even let him come with him to the palace. he did a dance because he was so happy to actually....get to spend time with his dad, which, is just really sad to me

so then we get to the scene where quirin comes in and varian spills the liquid. and i see ppl saying that he wasn’t careful with his experiments. but the thing is, he was. before quirin interrupted him, he was being delicate and careful with how much solution he was pouring on. so in a scenario where quirin didn’t barge in, varian would’ve poured One Drop, observed the reactions, and would’ve been able to take notes before further testing. and since he didn’t spill the entire beaker there would’ve been much less amber growing at a much slower rate, which would’ve been safer

but quirin barged in, and scared him because he’s not supposed to be messing with the rocks. imagine what would’ve happened if quirin was honest with him. he knows his son has an inquisitive mind, and just telling a kind ‘hey you can’t do that’ never works, because they want to know why. and varian, as his kid, deserves to know why

but once again, he’s forced into hiding, he’s made to keep these experiments a secret because of his father, which is dangerous for him because if he DID mess up, as stated before, they don’t have the kind of relationship where varian feels secure in going to quirin for help. quirin told him No with no reasoning, no justification, he just expects varian to follow him without hesitation because He’s His Father. but a parent child relationship goes both ways, and if parents want respect, they need to also respect and trust their kids, which quirin clearly does not. he’s fearful of the thing varian is most passionate about. he’s fearful of the black rocks and the experiments varian is doing. and instead of explaining himself to his 14/15 year old kid, he just tells him No Don’t Do That. varian isn’t unreasonable, and varian isn’t so young that he can’t have these conversations

then we get to their argument. quirin says that he told varian to stay away and then when varian tries to explain quirin cuts him off, not letting him say his peace, talking over him. once again not respecting his son and his personhood outside of being obedient

he’s not willing to treat varian as an equal. and yeah varian is a lot younger and makes mistakes, but kids are still people, they’re equal to others as people, and that’s what varian wants the most. to make his father proud of who he is, not who quirin wants him to be

when varian finally snaps, it’s because of years of this treatment and behavior. “No dad, you listen to me, our village is dying!” he’s never been listened to, never been respected, and that’s the base of their problems. not only that but he loves his village. everything he ever does up to that point is to help his people. he never gives up, he wants to help others, bring them hot water, solve the black rocks, save the home that he loves that’s dying

so in his eyes, all he sees is this man who’s demanding his respect, who has done nothing to gain that. varian just sees his father trying to control and prevent him not only from doing what he loves, but from actively helping their dying village from a threat

“Why won’t you tell me? I deserve to know!” varian says this and he’s right; it’s more than just the rocks, it’s the basis of their entire relationship at this point. quirin says that he’s not ready but ready for what exactly? what is he doing or not doing that would make him more or less ready? quirin just needs an excuse to not tell varian, and while this is more due to the writers saving secrets for the show, when taken at In Universe Face Value, it’s just him pushing off the inevitable. once varian knows, quirin isn’t going to have any more reason to say You’re Not Ready or that varian Doesn’t Understand. all varian ever wants to do is to be accepted and understand his father, while all quirin does is deny him access to that

that’s why i think that it’s more than just an accident. it’s a problem that quirin created for himself. if he’d been honest about the rocks, varian would have that part of his curiosity satisfied while also having an open and honest relationship with his dad, which would make him feel like he didn’t have to hide things, which would lead to them both working together in a safer and more secure way when varian experiments on the rocks

and like i said, it’s not just in this moment, it’s all of the moments with them

which then leads into my thoughts with varian’s ‘villain’ arc/redemption/conclusion but this post is already long

and again sorry i just oaiejwf took this reply and wrote all this it’s like 4 am

#quoththecomic #varian #tts varian #tangled the series #quirin #tts quirin #long post #and again this is just my thoughts on a tv show #i just have a lot of Thoughts on this #especially bc varian...very strongly autistic coded

44 notes · View notes

jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

Text

Basteen angst

I wrote this, meaning to put it into my mini series ‘Greek Holiday’ about Sophia meeting Bastien’s foster parents. I’m not sure if it will fit in, so I’m posting it as a stand alone drabble. Bastien is a troubled teen thanks to never knowing his father, and his mother passing away after a long period of drug abuse. If you find these themes triggering, read no further, although I’ve not gone into it in any depth. As above, this is more of an angsty drabble than anything else.

This is a mature blog, so No under 18 please.

Word Count 1002

Costa answered the phone and sighed heavily.

‘What has he done this time?’ he asked. Althea stopped midway through taking a duster to the kitchen windowsill, listening in anxiously to the conversation. There was a lengthy pause, and more than once saw her husband wince and purse his lips as the voice on the other end of the phone grew animated. ‘Of course headmaster. I’ll be down right away’ he said at last, and put the phone down. His shoulders slumped. He was irritated that one of his few free days from his job as a maths tutor was to be taken up by fetching his foster son from the local school and reprimanding him – again.

‘Bastien?’ Althea asked cautiously

‘As ever’ he sighed ‘Fighting again. I wish he’d learn to use his head instead of his fists’ Althea moved closer and put her hand on his forearm.

‘He’s angry at the world, and hormones are running riot in his blood. I’ll bet you that all the boys’ fathers in his class are having some sort of problem, but they didn’t have the unfortunate start that he had. Be gentle with him’

‘I don’t know, Althea. He’s the most challenging foster child we’ve ever had. I’m about to throw in the towel. Paulos is beginning to copy him’

‘He was let down by those who should have cared for him. What happens if we give up? He’ll only go to another set of foster parents and have to start all over again. Perhaps gentleness isn’t the approach, but patience certainly is.’ Costa smiled, and put his hand on hers.

‘You’re right of course, Althea’ he replied ‘He deserves another chance – as many chances as it takes.’ He lifted her hand to kiss it, and picked up his coat, shouldering it on ‘Wish me luck’

‘You’ll know what to do, Costa’ she smiled ‘I’ll have tzatziki ready – he’s growing so fast half of his aggression is probably low blood sugar’

‘He can certainly eat’ Costa said ruefully, and went out to the car.

------

‘You’re not my father!’ Bastien stormed as Costa walked him to the car. He squared his jaw and wordlessly opened the door for the sullen lanky teen. Bastien threw himself in and slumped into the front passenger seat, glowering furiously. Costa got in and waited for him to fasten his seatbelt before starting the car and drove off, the silence in the car heavy and oppressive. He stopped at the quayside of the little harbour close to the house that he and Althea, Bastien and Paulos, the two boys they were currently fostering, called home. Paulos was younger than Bastien, not quite a sullen teen but rapidly transforming thanks to Bastien’s example. Costa turned off the engine and gazed out at the fishing boats. Bastien looked at his feet, his mouth clamped tight shut.

‘I’m only too aware that I’m not your father, Bastien’ Costa started, and the young man snorted in derision ‘But I’m the closest you’ve got. How long have you been with us – five years, isn’t it?’ Bastien shrugged morosely. ‘Why did you hit Lycus?’ Bastien mumbled incoherently. ‘I can’t hear you’ Costa said ‘Speak up’ Bastien huffed.

‘He was teasing Roxanne because she has blonde hair’ he said sulkily. Costa raised his eyebrows. This was a new one. He’d never shown interest in girls as far as he could remember, and he was at the age where things like that started to surface. He didn’t say anything in reply, a little nonplussed, and Bastien opened up, words tumbling over themselves. ‘He said she’s not Greek, she can’t be if she has blonde hair, and she was a filthy foreigner. He made her cry, and I punched him’ He came to an abrupt halt, folding his arms across his broadening chest and clamping his lips shut again. Bastien had been born in Cordonia, and his mother was Greek. She had never told him anything about his father before she died, and nationality was a sore point for him, even though he was olive skinned and dark haired just like his Greek schoolmates.

‘Well’ Costa started, thankful that the young man was truthful, even if he hid things from time to time or bottled things up, to explode into resentment later. ‘It’s admirable that you defended her, but that wasn’t the right way to do it. You’re smart, Bastien. You need to stop and think before you act like that.’ Bastien grunted

‘What was I supposed to do? Let her cry and have the girls tease her too?’ Costa put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, and he looked back at him with his pale grey eyes. He’d connected, given the lad something to think about, something to process. When he had a task he always stuck to it, even if he got frustrated at not being able to do it properly.

‘Think it over, Bastien. Take a deep breath and ask yourself what you could have said instead of using your fists’ The teen frowned.

‘I don’t know’

‘Think about it’ Costa said ‘It may not be easy, but it’s just like anything else – the more you practice, the easier it gets. Every time you feel like punching someone, stop and count to ten, and consider what you could say to defuse the situation. If you still feel like using your fists, I’ll get a punchbag and hang it up in the garage.’ He stopped to think for a moment. ‘My cousin Zaccheus teaches karate, you could try that’ Bastien glowered.

‘Am I grounded?’ he asked sulkily, but Costa could tell his words had sunk in.

‘A week’ Costa said ‘And before you say you’ll be bored, think about every time you’ve used your fists recently, and work out what you could have done differently. Write it down, and we’ll talk about it’ He started up the car for the trip home ‘and just for the record, I’m proud of you for standing up for Roxanne’

@sirbeepsalot @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd @texaskitten30 @be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @rainbowsinthestorm @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01 @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @ravenpuff02 @kingliam2019 @nomadics-stuff

#bastien lykel #trr bastien #drabble

12 notes · View notes

wavyplastic · 4 years

Photo

wrote an alt version for the same prompt cuz, why not? also this was the og direction i wanted to go but couldn’t figure out the words ‘til today. dedicated to the awesome whump queen @panchostokes!

———

“No! Don’t tell me to calm down!”

Greg couldn’t take it anymore. From doctors to nurses, crims and fellow colleagues; everyone had been telling Greg no all day.

No you can’t do this, no that doesn’t help the case, hey don’t go in there—Warrick had even blown up at him in a fit of emotional rage. Greg was handling it all as best he could, that is, until the paramedics arrived.

He hadn’t dared ask if he could ride with them. Greg was aware tag-alongs were solely up to the discretion of the driver, but Warrick and Catherine had silently claimed the coveted seats; which was already two bodies too many.

Instead Greg had to sit back and watch with the rest of the team as Warrick and Catherine loaded into the ambulance and drove off. He still remembers Nick’s hand idly sticking out, contracting and searching for something other than the company of his two best friends. Greg even noticed the gut-wrenching agony written all over Grissom’s face; a sickly silence of digestion rather than observation.

Like a vulture circling its prey, Greg had stood watch at the hospital all day. Hoping, waiting for everyone to clear out, but they never did. Nurses continued to stroll in every few hours to check Nick’s vitals, making sure he was stabilized. Catherine and Warrick had also taken it upon themselves to assist with bedside duties, though no one asked them to. Even Grissom himself had entered Nick’s room a couple hours ago, never abandoning his post since.

However the real test came when Nick’s parents, the honorable Judge William Stokes and Dallas County District Attorney Jillian Stokes, stumbled into the room with heavy hearts and vengeful eyes.

No one knew about their relationship—and they both preferred it that way. But neither person had taken into account what would happen if an emergency like this were to arise. Who would they tell? How would they find each other?

“Sir I’m going to ask you again to please sit down.”

The nurse motioned for Greg to take a couple of steps backwards.

“I know you’re just doing your job but you have to let me in there.”

“I don’t have to do anything for you, sir. Like I explained earlier, you can wait over there or in the hospital lobby. Only immediate family and law enforcement officials are allowed at this time as it is still considered an active crime scene.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you! I am law enforcement! Do you need to see my credentials? Look, we work together and I helped rescue him, helped solve the case—”

Much to her dismay, Greg pulled out his CSI badge and waved it in the nurse’s face. Though it was understandable considering his current mental state, Greg was still imposing a little too closely into the nurse’s personal space. Something she certainly did not appreciate.

“Calm yourself or I’m going to call security.”

“Please!”

Such an anguished howl had never left the depths of Greg’s diaphragm before; not even in his darkest moments. But he was at wit’s end and didn’t care who saw anymore. Greg was now reduced to weeping at the nurse’s feet with fistfuls of his own hair entangled between his fingers. She shook her head and withdrew her shoes from his pathetic grasp.

“His room’s due for clean up in about seven minutes. I’m going to clear everyone out for about five, you have until then to see him. After that, you better be gone or so help me God—”

“Thank you...thank you.”

“Five minutes.”

Greg wiped his sullied face and picked himself off the ground as the nurse headed towards Nick’s room.

Just like clockwork, a grieving horde of adults were ejected, each of them confused and angry like Greg had been all day.

“I suggest everyone take a five minute break and grab some coffee or water down at the cafeteria on the second floor. He needs y’all to be in good spirits.”

Greg tried not to smile as the nurse forcefully corralled everyone outside, her stern voice echoing throughout the sterile white halls.

“How dare you say that to us? My son’s in there!”

“Jillian, please! I’m sorry ma’am, we’re just...adjusting to all of this. Jillian, let’s get a cup of coffee like this nice nurse has suggested since we’re gonna be here awhile. Grissom, Warrick, Catherine, care to join us?”

They all nodded and somberly walked towards the elevator as Greg slipped into Nick’s room like a ghost. Seeing Nick’s lifeless body on the hospital bed covered in lesions and speckles of dirt made Greg’s breath halt in his throat.

“That you?”

Greg instantly fell to his feet and captured Nick’s hands as softly as he could to not disturb the fragile condition he was in.

“Sorry. They wouldn’t let me—doesn’t matter. I got five minutes. I love you. You’re safe. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Nick chuckled, despite his inability to actually do so properly, and for the first time since Nick had been kidnapped, Greg laughed along too.

“Knew you’d find me. It’s my turn to do the laundry and there’s no way you’d let me live that down. Spiteful.”

Greg tightened his hold on Nick’s hands.

“I might be convinced to take over laundry duties for a week or two. Maybe. But only if you listen to everything the doctor says. Don’t pull anything, I’ve got eyes and ears all over the place, Stokes.”

“Oh. Do ya now?”

“How do you think I got in here? Got a nurse doing covert missions for me, no big deal. Anyways I have a minute left. I’ll be around, just...be back soon. Okay? Take it easy and we can talk more about this at home. When you’re ready. Love you...you big dumb idiot.”

Greg carefully released Nick’s hands and kissed his forehead before departing. He was halfway around the corner when he heard Judge Stokes’ voice resounding in the hallway.

“Warrick, we owe you everything for saving our boy. Talks about you all the time and it’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You know, Nick’s lucky to have friends like you watching over him. Puts me and Jill at ease.”

“Warrick, we’re flying you out to have dinner with the family in a few weeks. I hope you can keep your schedule open then. Grissom, did you hear that?”

Grissom knew better than to deny Jillian Stokes anything, so he just nodded.

“Thank you sir, ma’am, I appreciate that. But I can’t take all the credit. The entire team was looking out for Nick, including Greg over there.”

Greg stopped dead in his tracks, embarrassed at suddenly being called out.

“Who? That kid?” Jillian asked in disbelief.

“With all due respect ma’am, he’s not a kid. He’s the CSI that figured out the mechanical component to the...well thanks to him, we found Nick.”

“Well then...we’ve gotta meet him. Young man, come here!” Jillian shouted at Greg, nearly causing him to malfunction. “I don’t remember seeing him this whole time.”

“That’s because...he’s a bigger person than all of us, Mrs. Stokes. Does his job efficiently and quietly but doesn’t get the recognition he deserves.” Warrick finishes, and Greg feels understood for the first time in his life.