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mayhem24-7forever · 2 years

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Lose You Too - Chapter Two: Bear on a Unicycle

Flag!Reader x Adrian Chase/Vigilante

Author’s Notes: Sorry for the delay on this one besties, life went a little sideways (once again) but good news! I am posting chapter two tonight and chapter three tomorrow! As I always say with my NSFW content, if you’re a minor and you read my content I swear to fucking dilf Superman himself I will find out and block you. Do not test me. Don’t forget to read the other parts! Prologue and Chapter One here

Also! HUGE thank you/dedicated to my fellow Vig authors and friends @lunaticsandidiots and @leaf-dont-leav for beta reading this for me because DAMN am I rusty at this.

Warnings: female/afab reader (she/her pronouns), ANGST, mention of canon character death, grief, canon-level violence, swearing/strong language, spoilers for The Suicide Squad (Gunn, 2021) and Peacemaker (Gunn, 2022), alcohol usage, drunk assholes being aggressive in their pickup techniques, harassment, sexual harassment, bar fights, smut, light fingering, penis in vagina sex (I don’t explicitly say whether they use a condom or not but please remember to wrap it before you tap it), being loud af while rough fucking, gun violence, nightmares, hurt/comfort, some fluff (as a lil treat)

After texting Adrian for a few days, Y/N felt confident in saying that he was definitely more than fond of the merman emoji, if anything, he overused it. He used it in place of every other emoji because according to him “it’s like every emotion ever!” which she found endearing, even if it meant she often had to ask for clarification on what he was trying to say. So when her phone lit up with a notification from him, she wasn't surprised to see “just got here 🧜‍♂️” followed by an immediate “p.s. the 🧜‍♂️ means I’m excited for tonight”. She smiled and quickly sent back a reply of “on my way down!”

Sticking her phone in her purse, she looked in the mirror to evaluate how she looked. Adrian had asked her out on their first date and she wanted to look nice, even if they were just going to a cheap sports bar that had, according to Adrian, ‘the best fucking loaded waffle fries you’ve ever had’ and ‘this special drink that tastes like cotton candy and vodka had a baby’. Deciding she was as ready as she’d ever be, she grabbed a jacket and headed out the door.

Downstairs, she found Adrian, dressed nicely, leaning against his silver sebring parked just off the curb.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, looking her up and down. “You look- holy shit! I’m sorry, I mean you look really beautiful.”

“You’re looking quite nice too. I like how you look without the red uniform.” she replied, smiling as she approached him.

“Red isn't really my color, I’m more into teal.” Adrian joked.

She chuckled and he opened the car door with a dramatic flourish, announcing “Milady!”

Y/N thanked him as she got in and after he closed the door, he ran around the car to the driver’s side. She looked around as she buckled herself in. His car was surprisingly clean and tidy, no sign of trash on the floor or seats. There was a little rabbit figurine on the dashboard and she smiled at how much it reminded her of an old toy she had as a kid. Adrian hopped in, buckled his seatbelt and started the car. The song ‘Barbie Girl’ blared out the speakers loudly and Adrian practically smacked the console in his rush to turn it off. His face turned beet red and he looked thoroughly embarrassed.

“Hyping myself up on the drive here… I guess I forgot to turn it off.” He said, quietly.

“I like it.” She said, reaching over to turn it back on, although turning it down to a reasonable level so they could talk.

“Wicked” he replied with a smile as he pulled the car away from the curb and began driving.

The drive there was quick, the bar wasn’t too far from her apartment and they spent the whole time talking about how excited Adrian was to show her the waffle fries and the drink which was apparently called a ‘Bear on a Unicycle’. When they pulled up, he helped her out of the car and held the door open for her as she stepped into the bar. O’Rourke’s Sports Bar was your typical run of the mill sports bar, complete with cheesy neon decor and arcade games. They took a table tucked away against the back wall, away from the rowdy crowd of drunks jeering at the football game on the tv. A waitress approached and Adrian ordered the drinks and the waffle fries.

“So, how was your day? Did you work today?” she asked as the waitress walked away.

“Yeah, I had to work the morning shift so I could get tonight off but it wasn’t too bad. What about you?” Adrian replied.

“It was my first day at work, it went fine. It was mostly just paperwork and getting to know my way around and meeting all my coworkers, but I’m told that on Monday I get to actually start the real work.” She answered.

“You said you do computer stuff right? Like hacking and shit? Are you like a ‘guy in the chair’?” he asked excitedly and she laughed.

“Nothing that cool.” She responded, leaving out the ‘not anymore’ that she thought in her head. “It’s a cyber security company so I’m trying to stop hackers by creating programs they can’t crack and fixing any bugs they find."

“That’s some cool shit!” Adrian said. “I just clear tables and refill waters and breadstick baskets and stuff.”

“Why don't you do something else then?” she asked. “You don’t have to work in a restaurant forever if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t have a college degree. I was going to community college but then my mom and my brother died and I took a break to deal with all that and I just never went back.” Adrian answered earnestly. “It wasn't really my thing anyways.”

“I’m really sorry Adrian, I know you said your brother died but I didn’t know about your mom.” She said, reaching across the table to put her hand on his.

“Thanks, it was a long time ago.” Adrian said and their eyes met, holding each other’s gaze.

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else but just then, the waitress returned with a tray, placing the fries and drinks in front of them and Adrian pulled his hand back, averting his eyes to the floor awkwardly.

Y/N waited until the waitress had walked away to speak.

“Well, Adrian, I hope these fries are as ‘awesomesauce’ as you promised me.” she said as he raised his head and smiled, watching her poke at the food cautiously. “Because they kinda look horrifying.”

“Alright, so they don’t look very pretty, but I swear they still taste amazing.” he assured her.

“If you say so. I’m going for it.” she said as she grabbed a fry with her fork, trying to keep the toppings on.

“You’re gonna love it.” he said as she took a bite.

“Holy shit.” she said with her mouth still full. “Holy shit.”

“Good holy shit or bad holy shit?” Adrian questioned as she finished her bite.

“I didn't know something could look that monstrous and taste this heavenly.” she said with a laugh.

“It’s like a party in your mouth, right?” Adrian asked. “Now move your fork out of the way I’m going in.”

The pair talked until the fries ran out and then kept talking. Their drinks, which she had to admit were actually very good despite the weird name and awkward-sounding ingredient combination, ran out so they got more and those ran out too. They both switched to non-alcoholic drinks at two, Adrian so he was still sober enough to drive home and Y/N so she was only lightly buzzed but not drunk. She loved listening to Adrian’s stories, which he’d tell complete with funny voices and animated movements and he was becoming addicted to her laugh. He’d do anything to make her laugh just to hear that beautiful sound again, to see her eyes light up and for her to flash that smile at him.

It was almost time for the bar to close and so Adrian reluctantly pulled himself away from the table to pay the tab at the bar. Y/N checked the time on her phone and was surprised at just how much time they had spent at that corner table, talking.

“Well, ‘ey there gorgeous.” She heard and looked up to see an obviously inebriated man swaying towards her from his group of even drunker friends crowded around a tv. “Wanna get out of here?”

“As flattered as I am by your charming and obviously sober proposition. I’m already here with someone, so no.” she said politely but firmly, hoping he’d get the message.

“What? That little shrimp at the bar?” he asked, gesturing at Adrian. “Let me show you what a real man can do for you, sweetheart.”

He leaned over, placing a sweaty hand on her arm, his face close enough to hers that she could smell the cheap beer on his breath.

“I don’t know what part of your pea-sized brain can’t comprehend ‘no’ but I’m in a good mood tonight so I’ll repeat myself: no, I do not want to have sex with you.” she said with a smile, removing her arm from under his and leaning back to escape him. “Now fuck off.”

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” Adrian said, walking over and immediately placing himself between her and the guy.

“I was just telling our drunk friend here that he should go home and get acquainted with his hand because it’s the only way he’ll be getting off tonight.” she answered and Adrian smirked.

“You heard the lady, get out of here.” Adrian said, turning to the drunk guy.

“Like I’m gonna listen to some pansy ass little bitch like you.” he sneered into Adrian’s face, but Adrian didn’t even blink, he just kept staring him down.

“I really don't want to kick your ass in front of my date but I will if you don’t fuck off.” he said calmly, almost too calmly and a shiver of attraction went down her spine.

“FUCK YOU AND YOUR SLUT!” the guy screamed and moved as if he was gonna punch Adrian.

Before she could even react, Adrian dodged the punch and pulled the guy’s fist behind his back before slamming him onto the table.

“Apologize to her.” Adrian ordered, twisting the guy’s arm as he cried out for help.

“Fuck, shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He spat out between cries.

The next few events happened in quick succession and it wouldn't be until the next morning that either of them would fully realize just how complicated the fight had been. The drunk guy’s group of drunk friends approached quickly and Adrian spun the guy around and shoved him at them, knocking most of them down. Another one of them came up from behind Adrian and tried to grab him but Y/N kicked his legs out from under him before he could. Adrian jumped on a guy who had tried to swing at her. Adrian was methodical in how he worked his way through the assailants, subduing them quickly and easily. He turned around just in time to see the last asshole get cold-cocked by Y/N’s fist.

Adrian’s eyes glanced over the pile of moaning and groaning men on the floor and did a mental count to realize that she had knocked out at least three of them. They stood there, breathing hard and staring at each other in disbelief.

“Nice right hook.” Adrian said.

“I really liked your roundhouse kick.” she replied before looking around at the stunned bargoers. “We should probably get out of here.”

“Agreed.'' Adrian said before he grabbed her hand and pulled her out a back door into an alley behind the bar.

Y/N could feel her heartbeat pounding in her head, her whole body flooded with adrenaline. From the looks of Adrian, he was feeling the same

“Fuck that was so hot, I’m like rock hard right now.” he breathed out and she looked down to confirm. “Shit, I didn't mean to say that out loud. I’m sorry. I know that like beating people up shouldn't be a turn on and-”

“I thought it was sexy too.” She said quickly, interrupting him.

“Holy fuck, you're like my dream girl, can I kiss you?”

“I’m gonna be disappointed if you don’t.”

She almost didn't finish, his lips crashing against hers a millisecond after she had gotten out the last word. Her back hit the wall, his arms around her body providing a little cushion from the hard bricks. His fingers tangled into her hair with a light pull, his other hand winding its way down her backside like it was exploring. He slipped his knee in between her legs, his hands pulling her ass up to lightly rest her sex upon his leg, coaxing a moan from her lips as his jeans teased that taught little bud. Upon hearing her moan, he smiled against her mouth proudly and moved to her neck, intending to give her the largest hickey he could.

‘Two can play at that game’ she thought and moved her hands from his chest up and around his neck, where they came to rest at the nape of his neck briefly before continuing into the brunette’s curls. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as he tongued the crook of her neck and she waited until he took a moment’s pause to breathe before she pulled. This caught him by surprise, the breath he was sucking in caught in his throat before a moan pushed its way out.

“Fuck.” he moaned into her skin as she chuckled victoriously, a triumph that was short lived as the sound of distant sirens grew ever nearer, pulling them from their lust-addled make-out session and back into the present.

“Fuck, we’d better go before the cops get here. Or that Vigilante you’re so fond of.” she said with a wink, still trying to catch her breath as she spoke.

“Those guys were drunk and attacked us, legally we did nothing wrong.” Adrian replied, smiling as he caught his breath.

“Well if Vigilante doesn't get them for public intoxication and assault then he’ll get us for public indecency. What do you say we take this somewhere more private? Like my place?” she asked, looking up at him through her batting eyelashes.

“Holy fuck, I’m gonna cream my pants if you do that again.” he groaned. “Let’s fucking go.”

They sped back to his car and then back to her apartment, struggling with great difficulty to last the short ride without touching each other. They fumbled their way into the building and then into the elevator, attached messily at the lips before finally bursting through her front door. As soon as the door shut behind them, Adrian hiked her up into his arms by her thighs, her legs hooking around his waist. He carried her into the bedroom, pushing her back onto the bed and climbing on top, straddling her waist.

She pushed up at his shirt and he pulled it off quickly, throwing it across the room as she took in his surprisingly muscular chest that had been hidden well by his clothes. She quirked an eyebrow up and he smirked, responding simply “I do a lot of push ups.”

“No complaints here.” she replied. “Well, I could complain about your pants.”

“What about them?” he looked down at them self-consciously and she pulled him down to her.

“They’re still on.” she whispered into his ear and he smiled in relief, scrambling off the bed to kick them off, almost falling over as he did.

“We’ve got time.” she assured him with a laugh as she pulled off her clothes, leaving them both in only their underwear.

“I don’t think I can last much longer without being inside you.” he revealed, pouncing back on top of her, his hands immediately finding the latch to her bra and detaching it. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“So hurry up and fuck me now and we can take our time on round two.” she replied, her hand palming his hard length through his boxers.

“I swear it’s like you came from my mind or something, you’re literally my dream girl.” he moaned in between alternating licks of her nipples, his hands massaging the tissue as he worked.

“Adrian…” she whined, feeling so empty. “Please…”

He ripped the panties off her body and she let out a surprised gasp.

“I hope those weren’t your favorites.” he teased with a smirk as his fingers traced her lips and found the spot they were looking for. “You’re like dripping wet, babe.”

“So do something about it.” she challenged him and he obliged, slipping a long finger into her pussy.

“Fuuuuuck.” she moaned as he added another, his thumb working circles around her clit.

“Wanna taste you.” he said, pulling his fingers out and up to his mouth as she whined at the loss. “Fuck, you taste better than bubblegum ice cream.”

“Adrian, I need you in me now!” she begged. “Please!”

“As you wish angel.” he said smugly before lining himself up and pushing in, inch by agonizing inch until he bottomed out.

“Oh, Adrian!” she moaned, never having felt that full before, one hand staying hooked around Adrian and the other grabbing the headboard for support.

“I swear I’ll take my time next time but I need you so fucking bad.” He warned her before he began fucking her at a brutal pace, his hands holding her waist so tight they might bruise.

The bedroom was filled with Adrian’s grunts and wet slapping as she began to moan loudly as he rutted into her like he was a feral animal, the bed itself smacking against the wall in a steady beat.

“Not… gonna… last… long.” Adrian groaned between thrusts, one of his hands letting go of her waist and snaking back down between them to her clit. “Want… you… to… cum… with… me.”

His deft fingers found her bud quickly and resumed rubbing, her moans increasing in volume.

“Adrian, oh god yes, Adrian!” she screamed as he pounded in and out. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m-”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chanted as he neared climax, leaning down and pulling her into a kiss just before he reached the peak, hers crashing just behind, a scream falling from her mouth as she plummeted.

“SHUT UP!” A voice roared from behind the wall, accompanied by a furious pounding, but it was already too late as the pair finished their loud, panting moans together.

Adrian collapsed on top of her as they heaved deep breaths together, still sheathed inside her. They looked at each other and quickly laughed at having been yelled at by her neighbor.

“That was…” he began, looking down at her flushed face and getting lost in her fucked-out smile.

“Yeah, it was.” She finished for him, gazing into his green eyes beyond his crooked glasses, her hand finding its way back into his messy hair. “I’ve only been here a week and you're already getting me in trouble with my neighbors.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” He said, smiling back at her before leaning down to kiss her.

“Are you suggesting round two? We can try to be a little quieter, for my neighbor’s sake.” she asked with a devilish grin and Adrian questioned if he had died and gone to heaven, right there between her legs.

———————————————————————————————————

Y/N shot up out of bed breathing hard, tears streaming down her face and was greeted with a bedroom she didn’t recognize as hers. Taking a deep breath, she remembered she was staying the night at Adrian’s place. It had been a few weeks since their first date and they'd been seeing each other pretty steadily, still in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. She remembered the nightmare that had woken her up and she put her hand over her mouth to muffle her crying, not wanting to disturb Adrian. Despite this, just seconds after her, Adrian was up and brandishing a large knife he had apparently pulled from under his pillow.

“What’s wrong? Who do I have to kill?” He said squinting around suspiciously at the dark shadows around him, unable to see clearly without his glasses.

She could say nothing, still so upset from the nightmare she couldn’t vocalize her thoughts. Embarrassed, she wanted to just sink into the pillows and disappear. Adrian reached over to the nightstand, turning on the lamp and putting his glasses on as quickly as he could with a knife in one hand. She just looked at Adrian and took in the sight of him, shirtless with his brunette hair tussled messily and his glasses askew on his face, sleep still evident in his eyes when he locked his green eyes with her.

“Is someone in the apartment?” he asked quickly and she shook her head. “Are you alright? You’re shaking.”

“I had a nightmare.” she said quietly, barely able to muster a whisper in her distraught and embarrassed state.

“Oh.” Adrian replied, setting the knife on the nightstand before turning back to her and grabbing her hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “You’re awake now, whatever it was can’t hurt you anymore.”

Her shock and embarrassment faded away into relief as she threw herself into his arms, which enveloped her quickly as she sobbed into his chest.

“Fuck, it was so awful Adrian.” she gasped out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Adrian asked. “When I was a little kid and I had nightmares about the big purple bastard from McDonald’s, my mom would make me talk about it.”

She stifled a laugh through her tears and pulled herself away from his chest to look at him.

“You were afraid of Grimace, the McDonald’s mascot?” she asked quietly.

“You weren’t? That purple blob was terrifying!” Adrian exclaimed and she laughed, even as the tears continued streaming down her face, which he wiped away with his thumbs, keeping her cheeks cupped in his hands lovingly. “Everyone was afraid of at least one of them, those mascots weren't made for children. Was your dream about the clown one?”

“No. It was about my brother.” she answered quietly.

“You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.” he said, slowly leaning back onto the pillow with her on his chest. “But you don't have to hold it in either, you can let it out. I won’t get upset if you get snotty tears on my chest or anything.”

She let out a shaky laugh, “Adrian, that’s so gross.”

“I’m just saying you can snot it up babe, I won’t judge. Or we can just go back to bed if you don’t want to talk about it.”

She took a deep breath and considered this, but she knew that she needed to get it out.

“I have this dream almost every night. Rick is on the other side of some kind of one-way mirror. It’s like I can see and hear him but he has no clue I’m there.” she began quietly. “Then behind him-”

She paused. He knew that her brother had been in the military and that she had briefly worked in a tech position for the government but he didn't know about Amanda Waller or ARGUS. She couldn’t tell him, it wasn’t safe for him but she didn't want to lie so she decided to not give specifics.

“Behind him appears his boss. She’s a real ruthless woman, I never liked her, I always knew she was going to do something to get him killed. She holds a gun up to his head and I’m screaming at Rick to turn around but he doesn’t notice. My friends from that job are there too and I’m screaming at them to do something to stop her, to help him, but they’re not listening. I’m pounding on the glass trying to get to them but I can’t get through. I’m pleading for her to stop, to put the gun down but she pulls the trigger and I wake up. It’s always the same.” she explained, a few more tears slipping from her eyes.

“I’m sorry you have that nightmare so often, it sounds awful.” Adrian said lowly and she could feel the vibrations of his words echoing from within his chest as he spoke. “But I’m here for you and I know exactly what you’re feeling because it’s what I went through after Gut died. You’re not alone in this anymore, whatever you need, I’ve got you.”

“Can you just hold me for a little while longer?” she asked in a shaky voice, a part of her afraid he might say no.

“Of course babe, I’ll hold you so fucking good.” he responded and she laughed.

And so Adrian just held her as she cried, letting it all out, and when she was done, he held her still. Her breaths found a steady rhythm with his, her heartbeat falling into time with his as she laid there on his chest and calmed down. She felt so at peace there in his arms as he gently stroked her hair. Adrian felt like he had found the place he was meant to be, like he had been made and put on the earth for the sole purpose of finding her. He began to hum a little, subconsciously at first but once he realized he was doing it, he switched to a song that he knew she liked.

Once her tears had dried and she no longer felt like crying, she quietly said “thank you, Adrian.”

“You don’t have to thank me, it’s just what boyfriends do. Besides, you didn’t even get any gross snot on me.” He replied.

Instantly, she sat up from off his chest and stared down at him in shock, a thousand emotions bubbling inside her.

“What?” he asked, obliviously.

“Did- did you just say you’re my boyfriend?”

“Did I? Aren’t I? I mean am I?” he began and she could only stare at him in disbelief. “Did I do something wrong? You're staring at me and you look like you're gonna cry again, I’m not sure-”

She shook her head and leaned down, stopping him from talking as she kissed him from above. It was the kind of kiss that said everything that needed to be said, without a single word. They were boyfriend and girlfriend, it was that simple. He whined when she eventually pulled out of the kiss to speak.

“I know we haven't made it official or anything until now but I’m just really lucky I have a boyfriend like you.”

“I’m lucky I have a girlfriend like you.” he replied before launching back into the kiss.

When they separated again, she laid her head back down on his chest, both feeling their exhaustion creeping in to pull them back to sleep. But before she let it, she remembered something important she wanted to ask him.

“Adrian?”

“Hmm? He replied sleepily as he resumed stroking her hair.

“Why do you keep a knife under your pillow?”

“Oh. For safety.” he said simply, as if it was the most perfectly obvious thing in the world.

She let out an endearing chuckle and let herself drift off to a peaceful sleep in his arms.

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delicrieux · 3 years

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—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing. word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

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recurring-polynya · 3 years

Text

Once again, I am thinking about the dubious claim that people make from time to time that Renji would have gotten better character development in the TYBW arc if Byakuya had died. The thing is, though, that Renji did get excellent character development in this arc, particularly with respect to his relationship to Byakuya, it was just very subtle and I want to talk about it.

So, the first thing I want to point out is that the captain-lieutenant relationships is one of the major themes of the TYBW. A lot of this is sort of weird and awkward, but this is perfect, actually, because captain-lieutenant relationships are, for the most part, weird and clunky and awkward. Take for example, the part that I always make fun of, where the captains are told not to go to bankai, and Hitsugaya, Komamura, Byakuya and Soi Fon immediately go to bankai-- but they all do this on the assumption that they are luring their opponent into a trap to see how this works, and that their lieutenant will somehow ??defeat them anyway?? (well, except Soi Fon who seems to think she can one-shot her Quincy). There’s Sasakibe’s funeral, where we find out that Yamamoto cared far more for him than we ever imagined. Kyouraku returns Nanao’s zanpakutou to her and stands behind her as she defeats an opponent he can't. Iba carries Komamura’s body off of the battlefield as he loses the last of his humanity. Isane struggles to keep her head above her grief because that’s the burden Unohana left her with. Rose avenging Kira. Hitsugaya and Matsumoto fighting and (sort of) dying together. The Zaraki-Yachiru thing. The Mayuri-Nemu thing. Momo and Shinji actually got to have a relatively normal one, which they each deserved, but at least they got to have normal one together. Anyway, that could be an entire essay, but as usual, I only want to talk about Renji and Byakuya.

Renji’s introduction as a character happens in stages. Initially, he sort of appears to be Byakuya’s sidekick-- he's here to do the dirty work during Rukia’s arrest, while Byakuya stands by and calls the shots, but even early on, it’s clear that Renji’s a little hung up on Byakuya. He’s trying to impress him, and gets more embarrassed and self-conscious as things go progressively pear-shaped. When Byakuya finally enters the action, Renji’s thought bubbles reveal that he’s watched Byakuya for a long time, that he knows all his moves. When we get the Renji backstory reveal a few issues later, we learn that Renji’s goal is to defeat Byakuya, which he seems to feel is necessary to seeing Rukia again, even though there has never been any sort of causal link revealed between these two things. Don’t get me wrong, if Young Academy Renji had tried to continue to be friends with Rukia, I think Byakuya would have kicked him out on his ass, but it’s clear that a lot of Renji’s hang-ups are internal-- he doesn’t want to face Rukia again until he can stand against Byakuya. I think the origin of this is that he simply wants what’s best for Rukia, and he can’t stomach the idea of asking her to leave her rich, noble family for him, unless, of course, he’s somehow better than Byakuya in some dimension, and the only thing Renji’s ever considered himself good at is fighting.

Even more interesting is that he’s chosen to go about this by... studying the man’s every move and becoming his lieutenant. But for as much energy as Renji has put into learning Byakuya’s favorite combat moves, he doesn’t actually know anything about him as a person. He’s shocked when Rukia predicts that Byakuya won’t lift a finger to help her, and then horrified when this actually comes to pass. A few chapters later, as he’s running Hinamori through, Aizen comments that “Adoration is the state furthest from understanding.” I would probably classify Renji’s feelings towards Byakuya more as admiration or idolization, rather than adoration, but I think this statement is also very true of Renji and Byakuya’s relationship. Unlike poor Momo, Renji gets a little more time and opportunity to do something with this information. With a little Ichigo-forced soul searching, he realizes that he’s not going to come out the hero of this story no matter what, but if he doesn’t do something, Rukia’s not going to come out of this story at all, and even if he’s not really ready, he’s spent 40 years trying to figure out how to beat Kuchiki Byakuya, let’s hope all that was good for something.

The Byakuya-Renji fight has no direct impact on the events of the Soul Society Arc. It makes Byakuya show up to Rukia’s execution 5 minutes late and without his scarf. Renji gets healed, so it really doesn’t matter all that much to him, either. You could argue that they both wasted a bunch of energy (that they could have used to fight Aizen later) but it’s primarily a character-driven moment of them both drawing lines in the sand about where they stand, vis a vis Rukia. Byakuya wins this fight, and he wins it handily, but he’s wrong, as he comes to realize a few issues later, when Ichigo kicks his ass and tells him he’s a bad brother, a lesson that Byakuya will take to heart for the rest of the manga. Byakuya claims that the difference between Renji and himself is class, but the real difference between is the heart, and in the long run, Renji is the real victor of this fight.

The hospital scene is an interesting footnote to this. Byakuya defeated Renji, but Byakuya was the asshole and everyone knows it. There’s an expectation that perhaps Renji will quit or perhaps Renji will give him an earful and perhaps even Rukia will choose to leave the family, either to go to the Living World or to be with Renji (and Byakuya would deserve this), but instead, both Renji and Rukia give Byakuya another chance, which is not, I think, a place Renji ever expected to be.

Rukia and Byakuya building up a sibling relationship after this is fairly straightforward (although I’m sure it had its weird moments), but Byakuya and Renji now have this profoundly awkward relationship where Byakuya is obviously in charge, but he sort of depends on Renji as a personal compass because he’s shit at dealing with people and he doesn’t want to screw stuff up with Rukia again. Take for example, the part of the Hueco Mundo arc where Orihime is kidnapped and Rukia and Renji desert their posts to come help rescue her. Kubo takes to the panel-space to tell us that Byakuya has tacitly approved this. As a clan head and a captain, a person who is entrenched in the hierarchy of Soul Society, Byakuya couldn’t possibly go to Hueco Mundo-- but he can turn a blind eye while his sister and lieutenant scurry out through the Kuchiki family senkaimon. Renji, for his part, tried to go to Hueco Mundo through official channels and got shot down. We don’t know what Renji would have done if Byakuya had explicitly forbidden him from going, but it doesn’t matter-- Byakuya enabled Renji to follow his heart here, because Byakuya can’t. Rukia would have gone to Hueco Mundo regardless. She cares about Byakuya, but she doesn’t depend on him for validation the way Renji does.

I said this was going to be about the TYBW, so let’s get to that. Early in the arc, we’re shown several scenes where it’s clear that Byakuya respects and values Renji as a lieutenant, but he’s also pretty damn patronizing to him. Renji is the first one to engage As Nodt, and when Byakuya shows up, he acts surprised that Renji hasn’t taken him out yet, but then proceeds to take over the fight (real, “stand back, fives, an eleven has arrived” energy). After Byakuya then loses his bankai like a doofus, Renji wants to take point so that Byakuya can figure out As Nodt’s attack and Byakuya won’t let him... and then proceeds to get thrashed.

This has to be one of the most emotionally charged fights in Bleach. Byakuya is losing, and Renji jumps in, absolutely incensed that As Nodt would use Senbonzakura against Byakuya. Renji isn’t doing great, but he’s not doing terrible when Byakuya gets up and tries to help Renji, even though he’s a big bloody mess. As Nodt reacts by shredding Byakuya into chunks, and Renji just loses it, and if Mask de Masculine hadn’t shown up and kicked him halfway across the Seireitei, I daresay Renji would have killed himself trying to take down As Nodt.

This is where I usually make the point that if Byakuya had died to here, it would have broken Renji into little pieces, but that’s not today’s essay. Instead, everyone goes to the Royal Realm, and by virtue of the fact that Byakuya is injured worse than everyone else, Renji has to go forward without him or his approval.

In typical Renji fashion, the thing that motivates Renji here is not glory or heroism, but the desire to accompany Ichigo, the need to be with his friends in their times of trial. In fact his companionship here is absolutely essential-- at Hikifune’s, Ichigo expresses deep doubts that he’s doing the right thing, and Renji reminds himself that if he wants to protect others, he has to take care of himself first.

At Nimaiya’s however, Renji and Ichigo are split up because they must follow their own paths. The other extremely interesting thing that happens here is that Renji’s sword is reforged. Byakuya shattered one of Hihio Zabimaru’s joints the very first time Renji used them in combat. Renji brushed it off at the time, saying that he could get by without it. Even though Byakuya has long been his motivating force and his mentor, he’s also been held back by his connection to him. And at this point, it’s gone.

I really wish we got to see where Renji and Rukia meet up again, but we don’t. Unlike with Ichigo, though, Rukia doesn’t seem to need anything from Renji. They travel together, fight together as equals, wear matching outfits, like you do. Oh. Wait. After all this time, in the 493 chapters between Needless Emotions and Blue Stripes, Renji can finally see himself as an equal to Rukia. They get. bankai. Together.

I want to emphasize that it’s not really anything about Rukia herself that allowed Renji to make bankai, it’s the fact that he’s finally managed to move past the feeling that he’s not enough. Defeating Byakuya would not actually have solved this problem, and having Byakuya dying in front of him wouldn’t have either. Renji gets criticized for losing a lot of his fights, but that’s such a key to his character. He’s not always the strongest, he doesn’t always win, but he keeps fighting for what he cares about. He struggles with his need for approval, for external validation, but Renji is at his best when he doesn’t have time to think about that, when he’s just fighting by his friends’ sides against impossible odds, doing what he knows in his heart is right.

I think people tend to make a little more than is strictly necessary of the line where he tells Mask that he’s “a villain”, I think he’s most just making fun of Mask’s own self-aggrandizement. On another level, though, this is just Renji being at ease with himself. Byakuya typically enters a fight bloviating about the honor of Soul Society and “how dare you raise your sword against me, the 28th Head of the Kuchiki” and even Ikkaku had the whole deal about telling people your name before you kill them, but Renji is more like “you beat up my friends, so I’m gonna break your face,” like there’s no ego in it, just you’re there, and he’s there, and then you’re lying on the ground and he’s taking a nap somewhere. This is so different than the insecure, posturing young man he was at the start of this series and I love this growth for him.

Even after he eventually meets up with Byakuya again, something has changed about their dynamic. The group gets split up and rejoined two or three times, and Renji and Rukia always stay together while Byakuya ends up fighting alongside others, Hisagi and later Hitsugaya and Zaraki. This is cemented in their last scene together, where Rukia and Renji try to stay with Byakuya and he sends them off to fight with Ichigo by saying “your help is not needed here.” In some ways, it’s an echo of Byakuya sending them off to Hueco Mundo, but in other ways, it’s acknowledging that they are their own people, not just an extension of him.

Hitsugaya follows it up with this:

There’s more here than meets the eye, though-- Byakuya and Renji have maintained a pretty strict superior-subordinate relationship, because that’s the easiest way for them to make sense of the world, but the fact is, they do care about each other and are important to one another.

I know there would be a certain narrative satisfaction in seeing Renji make captain at the end-- he’s one of the hardest working people in Bleach, and it frankly seems weird to see Iba get the haori when he doesn’t. But Renji has never wanted to be a captain. Renji becoming captain would, in some ways, be a failure. He spends years pre-canon chasing rank and prestige because that’s what he thinks will make him worthy, and it didn’t. Instead, he found worth in being himself, in loving his friends and being there for them, in learning things from Byakuya and teaching him things in return. Renji doesn’t need to be Byakuya’s lieutenant anymore, he just does it because he likes it. It makes him happy. What better character development is there than that?

#renji abarai #byakuya kuchiki #tybwa #god i love to get up on a saturday and write essays about renji's character development #tldr: renji checks off all the gotei career milestones *except* making captain and then proceeds to lean in to his true calling: malewife #we stan legends only

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crackheadgeminibby · 3 years

Text

pardon my french

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: age gap, fluff, language, tiny bit of angst if you squint

word count: 1.5k

a/n: enjoy this purely self-indulgent piece of fluff i wrote, also i'm pretty sure i put the meaning of all the french sentences explicitly or implicitly but i may have missed some so lemme know if i did!!

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

“Tu te fous de ma gueule?! Ugh, va te faire enculer, Gabriel!”

You slam your phone on the counter and squeeze your eyes shut while leaning over the sink. You’re taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down when you feel large, warm hands on your hips and soft lips on your neck. Chris leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your ear before whispering, “Baby… You know it gets me all hot and bothered when you speak French.”

You chuckle softly while shaking your head before answering, “Seriously, Chris?”

You turn around in his arms, putting your hands around his neck before continuing, “I was literally just telling someone to go fuck themselves.”

Chris’ face contorts in confusion, “What? Who?”

You sigh, your anger rising again, as you answer, “My sister’s piece of shit ex-husband. He’s suing her for the children’s custody, and he called to rub it in my face that he hired Max to be his lawyer.”

You see that Chris is trying to associate the name with the grievance: yeah, you didn’t make a lot of friends but that’s the price of being a lawyer.

You chuckle as Chris is still trying to figure out who you’re talking about.

“Max is my ex-partner. You know the one that tried to poach all of my big clients before leaving the firm.”

“Ohh, yeah.” Chris nods his head in acknowledgement before scrunching his face in disgust, “He’s an asshole.”

You smile, gently playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Yeah, well, birds of a feather flock together, right?”

Chris nods slightly before leaning in your hand that’s playing in his hair.

“So, did you have anything to tell me, or did you just want me to play with your hair?”, you smirk.

Chris opens his eyes before smiling a bit and rolling his eyes, “Yeah. I want you to teach me French.”

You furrow your brows in confusion at Chris’ statement.

“We’ve been together for like a year… Why do you suddenly want to learn French?”

You see a slight blush making its way from Chris’ chest up to his face and tilt your head in confusion before he answers softly,

“It’s hot… And if I want to make a good impression on your extended family at Christmas, I can’t just show up not knowing any French. Plus, I can show off that my girlfriend’s a great teacher in front of my family.”

“Hmm… Questionable reasons”, you chuckle softly “But sure, let’s do it.”

Chris beams at you before asking, “Okay, well where do we start?”

You think a bit before saying, “How about we do like 20 minutes a day where I teach you a bunch of words and then you have to try to use them in sentences?”

Chris reflects on your suggestion before nodding, “Sounds good.”

You smile and point at the black saucepan on the oven next to you, “Now, this is a casserole. Since it’s a feminine noun, you say une casserole.”

Chris thinks before trying to repeat after you.

two months later

You park the car in front of your parents’ house, seeing the cars of almost all the members of both your families up and down the street. You turn off the car before turning to Chris.

“Are you ready?”

Chris smiles at you and answers, “Oui.”

You smile softly, feeling your heart swell with pride before you get out of the car and make your way to the front door.

You open the door and take off your coats and boots before making your way to the animated living room.

As soon as you see Chris’ family interacting with yours as if they have known each other forever, you smile from ear to ear before saying, “Hi, everybody!”

Members from both your families get up to greet you. After everyone has asked the usual “How are you? How’s the job?” questions, you sit down on the arm of the loveseat where Chris is sitting. Chris squeezes your hand, and you look down at him: he was ready to show off his knowledge.

You smile encouragingly at him and mouth “You can do this.”

Chris nods before getting up, a bottle of wine in his hand, “Bonjour tout le monde. Nous avons… emporté du vin.”

You feel heat rising to your face as you see a smile growing on your dad’s face.

“Well, look who’s been practicing his French. Donc, vous avez emporté du vin?”

Chris immediately gets red and turns towards you, sending you a panicked look. You get up and put a comforting hand on Chris’ arm before saying, “On a apporté du vin…”

You turn towards your dad and frown at him, “Papa, arrête, il est déjà assez stressé.”

Your dad puts his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, I was just joking.”

Chris looks at you, confusion clear on his face.

“When you say emporté, it means you took something from somewhere and you’re keeping it but if you say apporté, it means that you bring something from somewhere and you’re leaving it there.”

Chris looks at you, getting even redder than he was before, and puts the wine bottle on the coffee table, sitting back down on the armrest. Conversation picks up again in the living room and you sit down next to Chris. He crosses his arms across his chest, looking at his feet. You bite your bottom lip softly, before putting your hand on Chris’ back.

“Hey, you okay?”

Chris looks at you, still slightly red, as he nods softly and responds, “Yeah… I’m just embarrassed, I thought I was actually learning.”

You feel bad for Chris and stroke his back before replying, “You are learning, Chris, you’re doing great actually. French is just a really hard language to master. And my dad was just trying to be funny, don’t take him too seriously.”

Chris nervously bites his bottom lip before saying, “I thought your dad liked me?”

“Oh Chris… He does, I promise. He just likes to be a little mean to guys I like… You know, to like test them or whatever.”

Chris looks at you sadly and nods softly.

You sigh as you run your hand through his hair, trying to help him get more comfortable.

Multiple hours and quite a bit of alcohol later, everyone was heading to bed. As time passed, Chris had gotten more comfortable and had even started to talk French again, feeling less self-conscious thanks to the alcohol.

You were now in your childhood bedroom, getting on the bed as Chris was brushing his teeth. He gets out of the bathroom and gets some pants from his luggage before getting changed. You look at Chris getting changed and bite your bottom lip as he’s pulling his pants on. He turns around and sees you looking at him. He walks slowly towards the bed and leans towards you, whispering, “Like what you see?”

You smirk at him and nod slowly, “Very much so.”

Chris cages you between his arms and kisses you softly. He strokes your cheek with one of his hands while deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth. His other hand makes its way downwards, sliding under your sleepshirt and caressing your hips.

Chris kisses your cheek before leaning towards your ear and whispering, “Pardon my French but voulez-vous couchez avec moi?”

You laugh loudly before saying, “Seriously, Chris? Lady Marmalade?”

He smiles, shrugging his shoulders, before replying, “I listened to a bunch of songs on your phone.”

You grin at Chris and put a hand on his cheek and say, “First of all, I’m so proud of you for learning French, Chris, I know it’s super hard.”

Chris blushes slightly and smiles shyly, looking to the side.

You continue, “Second of all, no, I’m not having sex with you while my parents are sleeping in the room right next to us.”

Chris pouts and whines at you, “Baby, please…”

You roll your eyes at his childish demeanor, “How about this? If you behave tonight, I’ll tell my mom that we’re gonna decorate the house while everyone’s running the Christmas Day errands and I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

Chris’ eyes glint mischievously, and he smiles asking, “Anything at all?”

You smirk slightly back at him and reply, “Anything.”

“Well, seems like the choice here is pretty clear. Good night, baby.”

Chris lays down next to you and wraps his arms around you before kissing your shoulder, “Je t’aime.”

You feel like a schoolgirl with a crush as your heart skips a beat and heat rushes to your face.

You turn towards Chris and kiss him softly before responding, “Je t’aime plus.”

You turn back towards the window, laying your head on the pillow and intertwine your fingers with Chris’, still feeling butterflies in your stomach.

As you slip into slumber, you think about how there was just something so deeply endearing and attractive about hearing Chris telling you he loved you in your native language.

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fanfics

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youknow-igetit · 4 years

Text

heres the thing

like, baltimore happened. right? right.

but like, absolutely none of the foxes believe that andrew and neil are together. like romantically. (it’s mildly plausible that they could have sexual relations with one another but it’s literally only allison that thinks that, and even she’s doubtful.)

(renee is the only outlier here but she doesn’t comment on any of it because she doesnt have a death wish because she’s andrew’s friend)

(maybe also aaron but he thinks they just fuck)

what with neil’s insistence on not swinging and andrews... andrewness, it makes no sense that they’d actually be together

they never touch whatsoever. no kissing (no evidence of kissing), no hugging, no hand-holding, nothing. not even an accidental bumping of knees between the two of them.

kevin refuses to talk to them about the topic, but nicky is a very talkative person. “I live in the same dorm as them. but i’ve never seen anything even slightly coupley.”

even allison is beginning to doubt herself.

by their second year most of the foxes have come to the conclusion that they just said it to get the foxes out of neil’s love life and to make them tolerate andrew at least a little more

like, of course they think that neil and andrew are friends, at least, no one could get that close to the little knife-wielding maniac andrew and not have some sort of connection

also they talk to each other a lot. andrew hardly talks to anyone else. the foxes interpret that as they

but they kind of just brush it aside until it’s new year’s eve and all of the original foxes are there (because they’re not letting neil leave them again)

andrew and neil are off smoking and nicky’s like “okay guys a new bet.”

so nicky thinks that they’re together, full stop (because he’s lived with andrew for years he knows that he shows his affection differently).

aaron thinks they’re just fucking and so does allison (one of the few times they have ever agreed on anything)

matt, dan, and kevin all think that they’re just close friends (because kevin is probably thinking about their exy careers and also the internalized homophobia that the nest drilled into him for years is still there)

renee isn’t a part of it (obviously)

and so the bet finally begins

neil and andrew probably know about it, but they also have no idea who thinks what and they also don’t really care. they know. that’s all that matters. they’re a very private people.

none of the freshman even know that andrew and neil are together in the first place, so they definitely don’t know about the bet

so the foxes start watch andrew and neil just a little bit more closely but they’re still not seeing anything different than how they acted before they were ‘out’

it isn’t until the next october that they get anything

they’re all in the girl’s suite (now only dan and allison, renee graduated the year before)

it’s all of the foxes, the new freshmen and the now-sophomores (bonding exercise, dan told neil. you’re all gonna be there) and all of the original ones

they’re all hanging out and some people are chatting but it’s kinda lame

so allison’s like “fuck it, we’re all playing never have i ever.”

they establish things such as if you feel uncomfortable revealing anything you don’t have to, no singling people out, etc

so the game begins and there’s the usual tame questions like “never have i ever skateboarded” and such

but it slowly delves into the more revealing things, like “never have i ever broken the law” (and nearly all of the foxes drink because they’re foxes)

but jack, the asshole, goes “never have i ever sucked dick”

nicky, obviously take a big gulp. and allison, dan, matt (”what?? i was experimental in high school”), andrew, kevin (everyone kinda knows about the hookup culture that the nest had, so whatever), and many of the freshmen and sophomores drink as well. and, astoundingly, so does neil

nicky literally gasps, allison coughs on her drink, the rest of the original foxes simply gape (except for kevin, who swears loudly) because there was no one that neil would give a blowjob to besides andrew

neil, completely unblushingly, goes “what?” at all of his speechless friends (except for kevin, who is still swearing. it was only twenty dollars that he lost, but still). andrew, next to him, has the same bored expression

so matt, kevin, and dan have already lost the bet, even if it’s still going strong

but eventually they’re all like okay yeah, whatever, they’re fucking, but that’s it

except nicky

so it basically all of the foxes trying to get neil (not andrew, andrew’s scary) that it’s a fwb thing without explicitly asking outright

but every time matt asks how his thing with andrew is going he just kinda shrugs and goes back to what he was doing because it hasn’t really changed much except they trust each other a lot more, both emotionally and physically but neil’s not gonna tell anyone that

so allison’s like “got any dick recently?” and neil’s like”???? yeah?? i guess???”

but suddenly it’s andrew’s fifth year and nearly all of the original foxes have graduated and the bet is still there, obviously, but it’s come to the point that if they stay together after andrew graduates then nicky’s right and he wins the bet

but it’s before that that shit goes down

so it’s spring break, and they’re all at the cabin that they went to that first time (i like to think that it becomes a tradition and no matter what, all the foxes are there every year)

so it’s the third night and things are... tense

it’s not that andrew and neil are being quiet, since they usually don’t talk a lot, but the air around them seems charged, like a bomb about to go off

they’re all gathered around, sitting on assorted furniture or the floor, and their all conversing quietly and dan gets up, grabs an assorted but large selection of alcohols, and sets them on the coffee table, declaring that they’re going to play drinking games and absolutely no one can sit out (glaring pointedly at neil, who looks ready to bolt. he hasn’t had that expression on his face for years. they all hate it.)

it is, again, during a game of never have i ever, when things come to a crescendo

they’re all mildly tipsy at this point of the night, and neil and andrew are sitting on the same loveseat, but nearly as far away from each other as possible (they’re still playing, since dan insisted, and despite her having not been their captain for two years, she is still mentally their captain)

allison, because she felt emotional or it’s just the alcohol, goes “never have i ever been in love”

and dan and matt share dopey smiles as they both drink, aaron drinks, nicky stares off into space while drinking, thinking only of erik, and kevin takes a hesitant sip from his

its silent for a full second before neil, with a determined look on his face, looks andrew in the eye and takes a huge mouthful of the alcohol and swallows

no one says anything either from knowing better than to say anything or being physically incapable of speech

neil and andrew maintain eye contact before andrew, andrew, picks up his own drink and drains his glass

as if rehearsed, they both get up at the same time and storm outside onto the deck, slamming the door and shaking the paintings on the walls

it’s a terse silence as they hear faint voices arguing but it isn’t until they fall silent that kevin gets up to investigate but then immediately goes to sit back down after one glance out of the window

he picks up a bottle of vodka and drinks directly from it before going “they’re fine”

“how do you know?” matt asks tentatively

“because they’re making out”

the room is silent again, surprise coloring the air

and then

“pay up, bitches”

Nicky is very pleased upon knowing that his cousin actually does have someone to love and so does neil his adopted son but also that he won six hundred dollars (”I never should have fucking bet that much” allison muttered later)

and for the rest of their vacation everyone’s happy and fine and dandy and they all ignore those hickeys on andrew’s neck

#andreil #andreil hc #andreil bullet fic #aftg bullet fic #all for the game headcanon #all for the game hc #andreil headcanon #andrew minyard #neil josten #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc #trc #tkm #this s very long sorry

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suneatersupportsquad · 3 years

Text

red handed; colby brock

request: im not sure if you do requests or even any imagines for colby brock anymore but i was wondering if you cold make a exception, so basically the plot is that the reader met colby through kat and since then they hit it off, now their in a secretive relationship the only person who knows is kat but she only knows the reader has a crush on colby. one day everyones hanging out in the same room room and colby is sexting the reader, sams curious to whos hes texting and they find out their dating.

dedication: @whydontweanons

genre: fluff, subtle smut?

pairing: colby brock x gn!reader

characters: colby brock, sam golbach, katrina stuart, corey scherer, jake webber, kevin langue, brennen taylor, devyn lundy, tara yummy

word count: 1.8k

warnings: alcohol, what would probably be underage drinking, NSFW (barely), sexting (duh), mentions of COVID-19, quarantine

a/n: of course i’ll still write for sam and colby!! it’s just that, since i’m not as active of a follower of them as i used to be, my goal is to write for fandoms that i’m more invested in at the moment. but, honestly, i don’t think i could ever really stop writing for them. i love those boys so much. also this plot made me laugh so hard when i saw it in the best way possible. getting this request honestly made my day, so thank you for that!! anyways, i’m a little rusty, but here we go.

important links: masterlist

find more fics at my new blog @trapboysbunny

You and Colby had known each other for a long time - pretty much since he’d moved to LA with Sam - and you had been involved romantically just as long. You had met him and Sam through Kat on a boring Saturday night when all their friends flaked on coming to a little kickback they were hosting. Trying to be a good friend and cheer the boys up, Katrina had invited you to hopefully kickstart some emotional momentum. Your eyes met Colby’s for the first time and you clicked. Something in your gut had told you that the two of you would end up being close, and it was right. You had hit it off immediately, not taking very long to start laughing at one another’s corny jokes and telling stories over Smirnoff Ice while some random late night show played in the background. From that night on, it was history.

Since then, you two had been practically attached at the hip. If you weren’t sitting on the same room or facetiming, you were definitely texting one another. It became a running joke in your friend group that you two had evolved into a pair of siamese twins, or that being without you gave Colby separation anxiety. The two of you found it even more amusing when you actually began dating, not long after that fateful first night. It amazed the both of you that you were able to hide your relationship so well. No one had a clue. The two of you laughed about it quite often, actually, over late night phone calls and tipsy afternoons spent only with each other. No one knew, and nobody needed to know.

Colby, due to the internet and his fanbase being the way it is, preferred to keep his personal (and especially romantic) relationships more on the private side. His intent wasn’t necessarily to hide his feelings and relationship with you from his friends, but that particular topic of conversation never really came up in your friend group. Everyone had just kind of figured that everyone single would simply date someone when they were ready and tell everybody about it when they felt the time was appropriate. It wasn’t that Colby didn’t want to tell them, he just didn’t see the point in going out of his way to tell all of his friends hey after God knows how long I finally have a partner. He just didn’t want to make a big deal out of your relationship. Knowing his friends, they would definitely make it into some type of big thing, not to mention that Jake would dub the occasion as “cause for celebration” (which was really just an excuse to drink more). So Colby preferred to keep things on the quieter side for you two; neither of you wanted to make your relationship into an object for speculation.

Kat was the only person out of all of your friends to have any knowledge of your feelings for Colby. And thank God for her; if you didn’t have her to gush about Colby to, you probably would have either exploded or died. Or both. And she was there for every single second of it. She loved hearing about your movie nights, your urban exploring adventures, the sweet yet mundane things he would do to make you happy, literally anything. She ate that shit up like a man starved, and you did the same for her and Sam (regardless of the fact that their relationship was public already). You hadn’t told her explicitly about the nature of your relationship with Colby, really just gushed about your ever-growing love for the boy. Unbeknownst to you, she firmly believed that you only had feelings for Colby, clueless to the fact that the two of you had actually been dating for quite a while now. With her “go get ‘em, tiger” comments, along with similar remarks, you assumed that she had some sort of idea about your relationship with Cole, hence why you had never explicitly told her about your secret boyfriend. Kat, being the good friend that she was, never spilled your “secret” feelings to anyone else. Not even her boyfriend.

Eventually, quarantine started up amidst the international COVID-19 pandemic and you had begun practically living with the trap boys. A day without you in the house was enough to prompt concern for the boys, minus Colby who always knew the real reason why you weren’t coming over. This soon became the new normal, you taking a “day off” every few weeks to get tested just in case. At this point, it was almost comical that no one had figured out you two were dating yet.

One particular weekend afternoon, everyone in your friend group was hanging out at the house. You and Colby were sitting on opposite sides of the room, you next to Kat and Colby seated beside Sam. It was particularly warm today seeing as this Saturday landed smack in the middle of the infamous August heat wave, so you had thrown on a tank top and some shorts, nothing to flashy. Colby had dressed similarly, wearing only a muscle tee and a pair of trunks.

You were sat beside Kat, the both of you trying to listen to the story Devyn was telling. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the way your boyfriend was staring at you from across the room. You looked away from Dev for just a second to shoot him a glare when you realize exactly why he’s looking at you. The speed at which the blood rushes to your face is dizzying, and you drop your head to stare at your lap. Motherfucker- You sigh as you pull your phone out of your pocket. “Quit it with the blowjob eyes asshole,” you type before pressing the blue send button.

You feel his gaze break as his phone vibrates. Trying to ignore him, you refuse to meet his gaze again, putting all of your effort into focusing on Devyn’s story. Seconds later your phone vibrates in your pocket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the screen reads, and you shake your head.

“Uh huh sure ok.” You pressed send again.

Another few seconds passed and your phone vibrated again. “That shirt looks really good on you.”

You blushed as you read the message, flustered by the comment. Brows knitting together in confusion, you looked up to find him staring back at you with a dopey grin. You hunched over your phone and sent a message back. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Colby replied, a gray typing bubble sitting under the message. “But you know how it would look cuter?”

You cocked your head to the side and typed out your response. “How?”

“On my bedroom floor.” You almost snorted at that, clamping a hand over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. Typical. Thankfully no one had been paying enough attention to you to notice that you were distracted.

Colby, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. “Give me this, dude,” Sam said, snatching the phone out of Colby’s hand and effectively bringing the conversation on their side of the room to a halt. “You haven’t been listening for like the past 20 minutes, dude. Now let’s see what’s got you so distracted.”

“You don’t need to look at that, Sam, it’s not that important-” The tall brunette sounded slightly panicky as he reached and grappled with Sam for his phone. Sam played around for a little bit before finally reading the screen, eyes widening in amusement.

Upon finishing his reading, Sam lowered the phone and Colby relaxed, already knowing that he was caught. “So who’s ‘angelcakes,’ huh Colbert?” Sam prodded teasingly.

Colby blushed ever so slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re just a friend-”

“Which friend, huh?” Sam continued his teasing, growing louder and louder with every response until all eyes were on the two boys.

Colby shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but looking more stressed than ever in actuality. “Just a friend.”

“What do you say we call this friend, huh boys?” Sam suggested.

Kevin nodded, agreeing. “I think we definitely should.” Brennen also nodded when Sam looked to him for approval, essentially finalizing the decision.

“Okay then, let’s do this thing!” Sam yelled, earning cheers from all the other curious folks in the room. The blonde boy pressed call and Colby simply held his face in his hands.

You jumped when your phone rang, honestly having forgotten that oh shit, I’m angelcakes. Everyone turned to look at you curiously, Colby even peeking through his fingers. You didn’t even pick up the device, already knowing whose name would be lighting up the screen. “You gonna pick that up or something?” Corey asked awkwardly.

You shook your head, leaving your phone face down in its spot beside your thigh. “No, it’s probably not important anyways.”

A beat of heavy silence passed before Tara spoke. “Gee, they sure aren’t giving up. Maybe you should answer it.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s just-”

“Yeah, you should answer the phone, Y/N,” Jake agreed, the pieces seeming to click in his head.

You sighed, burning bright red to the tips of your ears. “Okay okay, fine.” You stood and clicked the answer button. “Hello?”

And there it was, your voice echoing from Colby’s phone. The room erupted in cheers of disbelief, the boys pouncing on Colby and the girls slapping you in playful excitement. “I knew there was something going on between you two!! There’s no way there couldn’t have been -- I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Kat squealed, smushing you in a hug.

The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment, a chorus of ‘same’s and ‘I can’t believe you’s. It took a while for everyone to calm down but, once everyone settled, you and Cole managed to get some alone time. The two of you escaped out back, the less than mediocre breeze cooling the sweat that slicked your skin. You held each other, almost as though you were about to start slow dancing. “Damn, caught red handed, huh?”

You laughed breathily, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “It was only a matter of time, ya know?”

“I know,” he agreed, cheek pressing against your hair. “I’m glad we don’t have to be weird around them anymore.”

“Me too,” you hummed.

Colby pulled away a little bit, just enough for him to look you in the eyes, your arms still around his neck. “Hey.”

You giggled, confused. “Hey.”

“I love you.”

You smiled your confirmation, eyes twinkling under the cheap backyard lights. “I love you.”

#colby brock #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock one shot #colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #fanfiction #the trap house #bug.oneshots

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Conundrum (A.B.)

Type: One-shot, challenge fic

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!reader Word Count: 7700 (:

Summary: conundrum - a confusing and difficult problem or question

Andy Barber is a difficult man whom you have yet to understand. He certainly doesn’t make it any easier; and right before Christmas, he manages to surprise you again.

Prompt: You have to look for a gift impromptu

Warnings: a smidge of angst, a drop of awkward humour, mention of death (mild AU - both Laurie and Jacob!), alcohol consumption, feels, explicit language, reader gets called a dumbass... that’s it I hope, lemme know

A/N: This is my submission for the Happy Hoelidays challenge. There’s no hoeing tho, shame on me. Also, if you want some music to go with this, know that I listened to ‘God I Hope This Year Is Better Than the Last’ by SYML an obscene amount of times.

Andy Barber was an enigma.

Reporters liked to think he wasn’t; almost a year ago, they tore down all the walls he had built up to protect the privacy of his family and they shed light into startingly intimate details of his life – and where they couldn’t shed light, they used their imagination and sold it with a claim of having a reliable source. Naturally, it worked; there were always people willing to believe it just so they obtained more of juicy gossip material.

There were wanabe psychologists who would address his trauma and tried to analyse his personality, the consequences he would suffer in the aftermath of the tragedy, who attempted to strip down his soul just to get a few more reads and generally talked about him as if they were best friends, as if they knew him.

It was all a load of bullshit.

The truth, you thought, was that no one knew him. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure if even his wife ever had, truly – but that was you under the influence of the little information you bothered to gather from the influx of crap that the media provided the public with.

What you believed was that the reporters and all the self-proclaimed experts on him knew nada.

Andrew Barber was and always would remain an enigma; to the public, to the little what remained of his family after the death of his wife and son, to his co-workers – the category which included you. If you could even call yourself a co-worker; you were simply a secretary. Granted, one whose previous employer let her peek over their shoulder quite a bit so you learned a thing or two about law, but Andy Barber was the lawyer. The former DA from Boston, who moved over to rule the DA office of Portland, your home.

Even after having been working with him for nine full months, Andy’s thoughts and feelings didn’t get any easier for you to read or predict. When he wanted to let you know he was disappointed, he did. When he was truly angry with someone, well, he wouldn’t let it go unnoticed either.

Other than that, however, you would have had better luck trying to decode the actual enigma-encrypted messages sent during World War II.

Small talk didn’t last longer than three sentences from you each. Work-related affaires were discussed in his office with politeness and with calm, rather dispassionate mannerism. If you caught a hint of a smile when an important case that helped people went his way (or the office’s way really), you considered it a miracle that sent your heart reeling.

He would sometimes smile only for you if you brought him a coffee without him asking first, simply because he looked like he needed one; at those times, he would thank you softly and let slip in your first name instead of referring to you with your last. Those were your favourite moments.

Well, almost.

You found him with a tumbler and an expensive whiskey on occasion when you were leaving the office late; you never commented on it, but there were four times he actually silently invited you to have a glass with him. You refused the first time and accepted the other three.

Those nights, you got a glimpse of the mystery of a man hidden behind surprisingly soft mannerism, one which was in such a sharp contrast to his shark-like demeanour he displayed in front of the judge and the jury. His scars ran deep, his hopes had been shattered, his life in the past year as bitter as the overpriced liquor. Your heart cracked for him to the point of nearly breaking altogether.

And yet, it was beating for him too; behind all that hurt, you couldn’t but notice certain gentleness. Yes, he could be scary, downright terrifying and when his temper got the best of him, the true rage on display, he was a force to be reckoned with. But oh, that gentleness. The kind shattered soul he hid so well every morning, more so on the days right after your little heart-to-hearts. Trying to build a working relationship with him – a friendship of a sort, anything you wanted to call it – was a game of push and pull and more of a string of guesses than an effort that would bore fruit.

You might have already given up on that and instead, with the ferocity you hadn’t known you possessed, you kept punching the crush you had on him; that silly thing that would always call louder and louder after he revealed a piece of him on one of the precious nights, only to shut you out completely the next morning.

Andy Barber had never even remotely showed a romantic interest in you and by God, did you not blame him for not being interested in anyone at all as far you knew. While you considered yourself a fairly capable worker and half-decent person, you were aware you could never measure up to him. Just another reason to push down the feelings you had for him, ones that seemed to bloom with more intensity whenever he raised the corners of his damn lips, when he asked a question about you during those stupid nights as if he cared— nonsense. You had to get rid of those. He didn’t even like you, barely acknowledged you in the end. Or did he? You honestly didn’t know.

Bottom line was that if you couldn’t get close enough, then the reporters knew jack shit, no matter how much reading on him they had done or how many books on psychology, criminology and law and shit they went through. Many people knew Andrew Barber’s name, but no one could hope to know him.

And yet, those assholes still called and asked about him.

It was the fourth one that day; December 23rd, over a year from the accusation of Jacob Barber, and those fucking vultures still called Andy Barber’s office. They weren’t even good newspapers and news sites anymore; obviously, because every rational decent person would have let the poor man rest. But nope. Not them.

“Portland’s DA office, secretary of Mr. Barber speaking. How may I help you?”

“Oh, wonderful! Is there any chance I could talk to Mr. Barber personally?” the chipper of a man asked on the other end of the line and just by not giving his name, he raised suspicion; was it forgetfulness caused by his distress or intention?

Fortunately for him and unfortunately for you, you had to be polite. Hot-shot lawyers and other important people rarely returned the courtesy, but that was the world you lived in.

“There might be, Mr-?”

“Oh, Connor. Peter Connor.”

“Well, Mr. Connor, what is your legal issue?” you asked patiently, writing down his name automatically.

“Well, you see, I would rather talk with Mr. Barber about—my delicate situation, in private.”

Your eyes narrowed as you stopped scribbling and spared a brief glance towards the door to Andy’s office. It was opened ajar in what could be an invitation, but all blinds on both the door and the windows were down in typical fashion.

Talk in private?

Yeah, not gonna happen. You knew a few tricks that these assholes calling the office tended to pull and whoever this man was, you were growing more suspicious by the minute that he was not seeking legal advice.

You went back to your notes and wrote down the word liar right next to his name and a question mark. Was he a liar? One way to find out you guessed; you caught your phone between your ear and your shoulder, opening a new tab in your browser to google the name along with a wild guess of him being a reporter.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Connor, I’m afraid I will need more information before I put you through. And I will probably need to make you an appointment, my boss is a very busy man-“

“Oh, is he? Lots of cases in Andrew Barber’s new district, huh?”

The blood in your veins was set aflame even before the search was done, because in an instant, you knew for sure.

And then you had it confirmed by the results.

This jerk had even given you his real name, utterly shameless. Sure, he could have only had the same name as the journalist you found, but what were the chances? Two days after you told his colleague – who had made it through your vetting, got an appointment and even got past the reception desk before you spotted him for what he was – to get lost and not try again?

Your pulse skyrocketed along with your blood pressure. Technically, you didn’t owe Andrew Barber anything, but he was respectful enough, didn’t make much trouble and for most time, was an okay boss to you.

You owed him this much: he was a decent guy. Why couldn’t other people show a shed of basic human decency too and leave him the fuck alone?

“That depends, Mr. Connor,” you purred, barely holding the outrage locked inside. You felt both energized by your anger and achingly tired and done with humanity. You rested your elbows on the desk and leaned onto it with a sigh, massaging the bridge of your nose, eyes closed. “Is he going to have to sue your rag of a newspaper or will you and your colleagues finally get the memo and leave. His. Personal. Life. Alone?!”

You most definitely strained the last words through your teeth, but you didn’t care anymore if you were being rude. He was the fourth reporter today ready to ask about Andy’s personal matters. The FOURTH!! He was lucky you didn’t tell him to go fuck himself… explicitly.

“Are you threatening me?” the man demanded, his voice insulted, losing all traced of pretence.

As if you ever. You knew better than that, working with lawyers.

“Nice try, Mr. Connor. I will thank you to never call this office again unless you have legal issues or a relevant question which you should direct to our PR department anyway. And if you could extend this to all editorial staff, please, preferably to all editorial staff in the United States, that would be splendid. Have a good day. Happy Holidays.”

You slammed the phone down, missing the slot for it, not caring. You were sure he would hang up on his own.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath and hid your face in your palms, grunting, fingertips sinking into your hair.

“I hope you don’t mean me,” sounded from the doorway and you yelped, honest to god yelped and straightened in your seat, head snapping up-

-only to meet your boss’ curious gaze. Hurt and anger casted shadows over his beautiful cerulean irises, but there was no mistaking the melancholy and resignation on his face either.

“Of course not!” you blurted out quickly, panic rising in your chest.

How much had he heard? Was he going to fire you for being unprofessional? Did he figure out what was this about— of course he did, there was little room left for doubt. Your choice of words was pretty straightforward.

Andy bounced off of the doorframe he was leaning onto, not easing his stance – his arms remained crossed over his chest and had you not been so alarmed, you would have indulged in the sight of his biceps nearly cutting through the seams of his shirt.

“Why do I get the impression that whoever you were talking to was not the first person to call the office to feed on ‘the misery man’ that Andrew Barber is?” he more stated than asked, his tone unmistakably bitter.

You gulped as he approached your desk, nails digging into your palms. You had no idea what to say. Once again, you couldn’t quite read Andy; you had no idea where this was heading and how you should answer without setting him off, making him sadder or even more bitter. And without getting fired, obviously.

“I—uhm, well, I suppose you heard me, so you know he wasn’t the first—Mr. Barber. I apologize-“ His eyebrows rose a fraction and you didn’t dare to analyse why. “-if I was too loud. But--- humanity sucks.”

The moment the last two words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them, snapping your eyelids close and squeezing. You were sure you were about to have bloody crescents in your palms from your nails at this point.

Did you really just say that? To your boss, no less?

Way to go, me.

“Not wrong there. Why don’t you take your lunch break now?” he offered casually.

You nodded as you felt the tell-tale burn of tears forming in your eyes; fuck, this was humiliating. Why had he had to walk in exactly in that moment? And now using that tone?

He didn’t say anything else and you didn’t dare to look at him. Only when you heard him walk back to his office and close the door behind him, you opened your eyes and released the breath you were holding, your heart hammering in your chest.

Gulping and swallowing your tears before they could escape, you grabbed your purse and your coat, rushing out to the cold air of Portland winter.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Andy didn’t bring up the incident again when you came back. You had a short list of assignments for the upcoming days off which you went over with him before parting ways for the holidays. You mentioned you would probably drop in tomorrow despite not necessarily having to, but wished him Happy Holidays in case you’d miss him during your brief visit.

The corners of his lips twitched at that, but he wished you the same. You supposed his holidays weren’t about to be happy – more like the opposite. Last year, he celebrated with his family, even if it might have been already falling apart. This year however…

Your heart cracked another fraction for the man and you wondered if you should leave some cookies for him in the office tomorrow at least. Then you realized he would probably hate it, either being bitter about feeling like a charity case or hating the reminder of what he had lost, what wasn’t waiting for him at home anymore. Not to mention that maybe even the poinsettia, which you had placed on his office window two days ago and neither of you commented on, was already too much.

The only cookies you baked that night were the ones you knew should stay in a box with apples for over a day, the cookies you were supposed to bring to your sister’s house for Christmas, because your nephew Harry loved them.

With cheesy Christmas songs in the background and a bottle of wine for the party of one, you kneaded the double batch of dough and couldn’t but spare your achingly handsome and likely lonely boss a thought and maybe… maybe a tear or two.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

The office was empty when you arrived on 24th at around half past four; everyone left as soon as possible, which was to be expected. Admittedly, despite not knowing what you would talk about with Andy, you found your heart sinking when you didn’t see light peeking through the blinds of your and his offices. You had expected him to be working to avoid being at home; but then again, you knew next to nothing about him. Maybe he was with a girlfriend. With a boyfriend. With former colleagues. With his deceased wife’s family. It was only assumption of yours that he might be lonely on Christmas.

You shook your head at your train of thought as you unlocked your office, mentally going over which files you needed to bring home, trying to eliminate the amount as not to endanger confidential information by taking them away from the safety of the bureau.

You froze in your tracks when you found a rather large piece of paper folded into a roof on your desk. A note, you realized, frowning and slowly walking to the suspicious object.

There were very few people who could enter your space, namely three: the janitor, you and Andy. The first option was unlikely, the second impossible, the third confusing. You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just shoot you a text if he needed anything.

You halted in your steps, the air knocked out of your lungs when you noticed that the note was not the only new item on your desk.

There was a box.

A box roughly size of your extended palm. And if you weren’t mistaken… it looked like a jewellery gift box.

“What the hell?” you asked yourself breathlessly, your curiosity getting the best of you; more so as you recognized what was most definitely Andy’s handwriting on the paper.

Andrew Barber, your boss, with whom you weren’t sure what your relationship was – if there was any at all – might have got you jewellery.

Say that again?

A tiny voice in your head told you he might have just used the box for something else entirely, but that didn’t seem to be his style.

So you picked up the gift carefully, almost reverently removing the lid, your heart pounding in your chest, stomach twisting with pleasant anticipation; with the familiar rush that kids feel when opening a present with high hopes of what could await them inside.

Your lips parted in pure shock, you mind turning blank.

There were no words in English language to express how… how absolutely magnificent the bracelet inside was.

Five thin circles with symbols made of slender lines inside, looking like charms, but withing the body of the bracelet, one clasped to the next one with delicate ellipses. The metal reflected the fluorescent lights of the office, glimmering softly, appearing almost fluid, a thin stream of water trapped in a box.

You actually had to blink and it took all your willpower not to pinch yourself, because—how-

How had he known? Where had he got it? Holy mother of Jesus, how much had he spent on it?

And why get you a gift in the first place? You were… acquaintances at best. Yes, there were almost friendly moments, and then there were those nights, but this was---this- you couldn’t even---- think, apparently.

Keeping an eye on the opened box, you gently placed it back on the desk, afraid to even touch the metal itself. You blindly reached into your purse in search for your phone to dial the only number that made sense for you to dial at that moment.

It sure as hell wasn’t Andy’s.

Nothing but a dialling tone sounded for half a minute, the time seemingly endless. You fell heavily into your chair, still staring at the absolutely gorgeous and thoughtful gift.

How did he know?!

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as your sister still didn’t answer the phone and your hand automatically reached for your necklace to toy with.

And that was when it hit you.

Your necklace; one you got from your sister during the period of your biggest obsession with the Divergence series. Two arrows in a circle pointing different directions, the symbol for a ‘divergent’ person. Your eyes wandered over the five circles of the bracelet – scales, an eye, hands connected, a flame, a tree –, an incredulous chuckle escaping you.

But--- you didn’t think he would notice. You didn’t even wear it all the time, rather often, yes, and yeah, perhaps you did have a bit of a bad habit of fumbling with it when nervous-

“Hey sis! What’s up?” Amber’s voice sounded cheerily from the microphone. You jumped in your seat, startled by her as she interrupted your musing. “Please tell me you’re still coming, because Harry wouldn’t shut up about his favourite chocolate chip.”

You cleared your throat, barely able to comprehend what she was talking about, too caught up in your head.

“I—hi. Uhm- I need help actually,” you finally stuttered and you could practically feel her frown even over the phone.

“Oh? Is everything okay? You sound… a little strange.”

“That’s-“ not wrong. You scanned the office and listened in for the tinniest noise, making sure you were still alone. “I’m at the office and I--eh, I found a gift for me.”

“Awww, a secret admirer? Nice!” Amber chuckled, then abruptly stopped. “…unless it’s a stalker. You don’t think you have a stalker, right? Is that why you called me, so I could tell George? He’s not on duty-“

This time you did roll your eyes at the mention of her husband who happened to be a police officer.

“No, Amber, I have no stalker as far as I know. I’m pretty sure I can recognize my boss’ handwriting at this point.”

Nothing but silence could be heard from the other end for a good minute. You bit your lip in anticipation of… something.

And then: “You’re shitting me.”

“Not really-“

“Holy mother of-!” your sister squealed loudly and you winced, instinctively withdrawing from the phone. “Your boss got you a Christmas present?! --Wait. Is it a Walmart card? Because if it is, then this call is pointless, because that’s boring as-“

“No, Amber, he—he gave me a bracelet,” you admitted softly, your gaze once again wandering over the said object. Beautiful. Fragile. Yours, apparently. What?

When Amber only responded with silence again, words suddenly spilled from your lips, all the mixed feelings you had about receiving the bracelet released, relief singing in your veins as you vented.

“And-and it’s actually really beautiful and--- it’s thoughtful, because it has all the fractions from Divergence on it? But not like something you buy for ten dollars, only paying for the copyright or whatever and the quality is shitty, no, I mean--- it looks pretty, eh, delicate.”

It did, awfully so, which was why you still couldn’t make yourself to touch it even if you really, really liked it and wanted to do nothing but to wear it for the rest of your damn life.

“And expensive. I-- I think it might be real silver and…” you wavered, almost scared to share your last observation out loud for it seemed impossible for it to be true. “Amber, you know I looked through a lot of Divergence-related goods so I would know. It- it doesn’t look familiar at all, it’s--- I think it might be custom-made.”

You choked on the last word, tasting so strange on your tongue as you couldn’t quite believe that you were saying it. You felt--- incredulous to put it simply… and touched and- absolutely bewildered.

Silence stretched in the follow-up to your rambling and you felt your brows drawing together.

“…Amber? You there?”

“Oh yeah, I’m here,” she assured you swiftly, mischief curling around the tone of her voice like a smirk on her lips you couldn’t see. “Just wondering how could you not tell me you started sleeping with him-“

“What?! No!” you protested instantly, straightening in the chair. “I’m not—I’m not his sugar baby or whatever! This is not a ‘thank you for letting me fuck you raw’ gift-“

“Not that you would complain from what I heard and saw-“ she hummed playfully.

She was right. But shush!

“Screw you!”

“George does, that’s why we have Harry in the first place,” she sassed you. “But… sis? What kind of a gift it is then?”

And wasn’t that the question.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you should, because from what you told me, you guys aren’t even friends. Nota bene, this isn’t exactly a gift you give to a friend,” she pointed out, addressing one of the million issues concerning the damn (gorgeous) bracelet.

“I-- I guess?” You were sure, in fact. This was something to give to a… well, to a lover, to a partner. “But- Amber, he doesn’t--- that’s not-“

“What did the note say?”

“Huh?”

“You said you recognized his handwriting,” she reminded you slowly as if speaking to a five-year-old. “What does the note say?”

You glanced at the note again noncommittally, remembering exactly what it said. Pretty much nothing. Definitely nothing to go on.

“Uhm… Thank you. Happy Holidays.”

There was a beat of silence, again. “That’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Eloquent.” You rolled your eyes at her sarcastic tone. She should see him at court. True though, on personal level, he wasn’t exactly chatty. Unless he opened up a bit over a glass of whiskey--- anyway, she had a point, obviously. “What are you gonna do?”

That snapped you from your musing like a shot of life into your bloodstream.

“That’s why I’m calling! I should-- I should get him something too, right?” Right?! Absolutely. “Oh god, I hate last-minute shopping. And I don’t even have a fucking clue what to buy! Well, a good whiskey is always a safe bet I guess, but supporting his drinking habits doesn’t sound like a good idea. Plus, it’s kinda… impersonal with comparison to what he gave me.”

Though if there was one thing you learned about Andy Barber, it was that he could appreciate the high-quality liquor, so perhaps it wouldn’t have been as impersonal as one might think.

“Well, I don’t know him so I can’t really help, but what you got from him should definitely give you a clue.”

“A clue?” you parroted, confused.

“I don’t mean like a clue for what you should buy him. But… look, even if you didn’t suspect that it’s custom-made, which whoa, he has to pay a lot of attention to buy you something like this. Much more attention than you thought.”

“…okay?”

“He likes you, you dumbass! It doesn’t matter what you get him, he’ll be happy you got him anything in the first place!”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you deadpanned, unsure which statement you were referring to. That he liked you or that you shouldn’t take care to choose something that would really bring him at least a little joy.

You tried your best to ignore how your heart skipped the beat at the former.

“Whatever. Harry’s throwing a hungry eye on me, I gotta go fix him a snack unless I want him to eat all the candy again. Good luck!”

“Amber!“ you called out in honest despair, panic rising in your chest, only to get no answer.

You pulled the phone from your ear to look at the screen, already knowing what awaited you.

Disconnected.

Fuck.

It seemed you were on your own. Wasn’t that wonderful?

You shot your sister a simple ‘I hate you’ text, the gears in your head already turning frantically in order to figure out what you could get Andy.

Amber replied with a set of laughing emojis within seconds. Bitch, leaving you alone to deal with a situation like this! What a sister she was.

You sighed, admiring the delicate lines of the bracelet again, torn between indulgence and guilt. There was no questioning whether you should buy Andy something too.

Say yay for the last-minute shopping for a man out of your league and whom you had no idea what you should get.

You were utterly at loss, growing anxious not only about the difficult choice of a gift, but also about possible delivery, wondering what should you even tell him and when.

Maybe though…. just maybe, you were getting kinda excited about what you were about to do too.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Three hours.

You spent almost three hours at the mall where you could barely breathe because of the crazy crowds and yet you were none the wiser; your excitement left you quickly, once again replaced by despair. It took you three hours and passing the lingerie shop four times, a shop with pieces on display that barely covered anything, intended for either bedroom games or a swimming pool, before it finally hit you.

You cursed under your breath, calling yourself an idiot in murmur loud enough to have few people around you look at you in surprise.

“Dumbass, I’m such a dumbass,” you continued your monologue as you fished out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts.

To say that the person on the other end was shocked to hear from you at this time of month and hour was an understatement.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Lee. I have… eh, a favour to ask…”

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

You were being ridiculous.

Absolutely and utterly ridiculous as you stood on a modest porch in front of a small family house, the roof hiding you from the intrusive drizzle but not keeping you quite safe from the wind as you clutched your handbag to your side as if it was your lifeline, cursing yourself for not wearing a scarf in December.

Your nose was practically freezing, your cheeks burned from the wind and your hands were cold too, because you were stupidly underdressed; as if you haven’t lived in Portland your whole life.

But that wasn’t the main issue; an Uber dropped you off about five minutes ago and still, here you were, standing outside and trying to convince yourself to ring the bell.

The plan had been to finish packing a bag and leave around 10 p.m. to your sister’s house, where you would spend the night so you could be with her family on Christmas Day from the very beginning. But then Andrew fucking Barber, your fabulous boss, left a gift in your office, a breath-taking bracelet now sitting low on your right wrist, and it all went to hell.

Maybe you could still make it to your sister’s house – it was shortly after nine, your bag waiting on your bed, so maybe you should just call another Uber and be on your way. Maybe you could leave the silly envelope in the post-box just so you wouldn’t have to deal with Andy’s reaction; after all, he had chosen the same approach; cookies be damned, there would be more left for Harry then-

But you really, really wanted to thank him. And you might be shitting your pants, but the prospect of seeing him in a domestic environment, possibly more relaxed, perhaps nearing the man you had had the honour to see on those nights… you couldn’t make yourself to pass on that opportunity.

At the same time, you kept reminding yourself that Andy did not expect to see you tonight, he might not even be home – you were pretty sure a dim light was coming from the living room, the TV on probably, but yeah, you could keep lying to yourself – and that he might be grieving and genuinely might hate you for invading his privacy since you had to search his home address in the official documents.

Yeah, you definitely should just spin on your heels and-

“Oh for God’s sake,” you muttered under your breath and pressed the doorbell, your heart suddenly hammering in your ribcage as you realized there were no takebacks now. “Shit.”

Maybe you should just run. What if he had fallen asleep already and you just woke him up?! Oh, he was so going to be pissed and he might even show that emotion, screaming you down like he did one with that intern-

A scruffle on the other side of the door snapped you from your hopeless expectations and you sucked in a horrified breath.

And then the door slid open before you could react and you were certain you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, a semi-frozen deer to make the situation worse and--- there he was.

You quickly dropped your gaze, only then realizing how rude that was and that you should meet his eye no matter how much you did and did not want to do so at the same time. As you gaze travelled up, you found that a domestic Andy was everything you imagined he would be; black socks, loose dark grey sweats, pale t-shirt slightly wrinkled. One of his arms hung loosely by his side, the other still at the door-knob as you continued your inspection, gaze caressing the line of his bare forearm, reaching the sleeves that were hugging his biceps precisely. Broad shoulders, perfectly trimmed beard framing plush lips with the slightest hint of a curious smile.

You smiled awkwardly as your eyes met his watching you with interest, dimmed with a hint of a doze-off you must have woken him up from. You tried not to dwell on the inconspicuous redness surrounding his irises.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up!” you blurted out quickly, rewarded with a light shake of his head and a stifled yawn; subtle.

“You didn’t. Hi,” he greeted you, only to make you realize that 1. you forgot to say hi and 2. his post-nap voice was a thing from wet dreams-- which was definitely not relevant at that moment.

“Hi,” you offered unsurely, eyes roaming his face, searching for any trace of anger. All you found was bewilderment; if pleasant or not, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry for barging in. I just… uhm- I wanted to thank you and-“

The hint of a smile on his lips grew a fraction, expression softening at your admission and before you could find your footing, he opened the door further, subtly extending his hand to usher you in.

Your heart skipped a beat, the strangest feeling tickling your gut, teeth sinking into your lower lip, the grip on your handbag growing stronger. Yet you accepted, taking two reluctant steps inside. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing whatever fate awaited you.

Attempting not to look too nosy, you turned back to Andy rather than scanning the hall.

Words got stuck in your throat. As tired as he looked, worn to a bone by everything but physical exercise, you couldn’t but marvel at what a handsome man he was, even without his smart suits and ties and neatly styled fluffy hair; it was still very fluffy, just more of a mess than a fashion statement.

God, wasn’t he beautiful.

He kept looking at you too in mute anticipation of something, appearing mildly lost just as you were, giving the impression of a man who couldn’t tell what to expect.

Your gaze locked with his, unyielding, a gorgeous trap and you knew you had to say or do something before your heart gave out entirely.

Your mouth opened, no words coming out and you cursed yourself, simply opening the bag and pulling out a Tupperware box with half the cookies you baked last night, practically shoving it to Andy’s capable hands.

He accepted the item with eyebrows shooting up once before settling back, eyes misting for a moment. His fingertips brushed yours as he took a firm hold of the box, the not-quite-there smile of his remaining on his lips.

He seemed perplexed.

You felt like an idiot.

“This feels so silly now,” you admitted with a sigh, realizing the absurdity of the situation only accented by the fact that you stood there in the hall of his home in your coat and high-boots, ridiculously overdressed in comparison to him.

“It’s not,” he whispered finally, forcing the corners of his mouth to rise higher. “Thank you. Didn’t know you baked. Should have figured.”

You shrugged. “Never came up.”

Something shifted in his expression as did in the air; you knew he sensed it too. The unspoken hung between you, that you meant not in your daily routine at the office, but on your private nights, so rare and precious, so desperately pretended to be non-existent the next morning.

Your gaze lowered as the silence fell on your pair again and you awkwardly shifted your weight from one leg to the other. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“So, uh-“

“Thank you for the bracelet. Really. It was-” you licked your lips, meeting his eyes again, so deep, so blue and somehow soft and you forgot what you were about to say. “Eh- I wasn’t expecting it. I-- I didn’t think you’d… notice. And--- care.”

His brows furrowed for a bit and he placed the box on the shoe rack next to him; an action he soon regretted you guessed, because his fingers went for his wrist as if he wanted to readjust his cufflinks, a nervous habit of his, only to meet bare skin. Good to know you weren’t the only one iffy in this conversation.

“But you liked it?” he asked almost shyly and the corners of your lips rose on instinct as did you right hand, the sleeve of your coat sliding down a fraction, enough to reveal the new accessory. “Looks pretty on you.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers gently slid over one of the symbols, brushing over the sensitive skin of your wrist. His gaze returned to yours, a flicker of something heated in his eyes, calling butterflies to your stomach.

Lord have mercy.

“Thanks- uhm--- thank you. Here, I got you something too.” You quickly reached into the handbag again to hide how flustered you felt – for a different reason than awkwardness.

He had touched your wrist and you turned into a blushing mess. Fabulous. And to make the matter more humiliating, now a twinkle of amusement played in his irises.

“You gave me a plant. And cookies.”

“Yeah. Kinda? But that was more of a… gesture?” you offered reluctantly as you handed him the envelope. “I uh—this is probably stupid, but, uhm--- here.”

“Stop putting yourself down,” he muttered darkly, causing your cheeks to burn hotter. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything.” Pulling out the firm colourful paper, he blinked a few times, seemingly surprised. Ha, you bet he expected a Walmart card! Instead, there was a voucher for five entrances to the swimming pool where your friend Lee worked at. “Oh. Thank you. That’s really nice of you.”

A stone the size of Texas fell from your stomach and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief. Andy seemed genuinely pleased by your choice of gift and you felt your whole body relax.

“It’s just… eh, just for half an hour each and you can pick them on a horizon of three months. I’m not sure how often you like going, so… uhm, my friend works at the place, so you just give her a call and it shouldn’t be a problem to book it for mornings right before the opening hours,” you explained lamely, earning a puzzled look.

“How did you know I liked going when no one’s there?”

That caused one corner of your lips twitch in slight amusement and your eyebrow arch, even if his reasons weren’t exactly funny; his cheeks flushed a hint of red, a sight to behold for more than one reason. It was nice to have the roles reserved, you making him feel flustered for once.

Really? The rather quiet lone-wolf Andy Barber, followed by reporters still, just asked you this? Cute.

“…that’s fair,” he said and for a brief second, you were afraid you had shared your thoughts out loud. But he didn’t look offended, so probably not. The self-awareness then. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m-eh, glad you like it.”

You stood there again, both smiling – a little reluctantly, a little soft – and once again you had no idea how to proceed.

What you did know was that you enjoyed talking to him, even if it was awkward like this. You enjoyed seeing him in his natural habitat, in his home, relatively relaxed. You thrived seeing more of this Andy Barber, just a handsome guy, not Andrew Barber, the hot-shot lawyer.

He was the first to break the silence, hesitantly gesturing further into the house.

“Would you—would you like to-“

YES! was what you brain screamed.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother…” was what you told him, mentally cuffing yourself on the head.

“You’re not,” Andy opposed lowly. The whisper of your name that followed made you shiver.

His gazed trailed all over your face, so intense you would swear he saw right into your soul and further. You felt naked, but for some reason not too vulnerable – Andy seemed to like what he saw, expression genuinely inviting and yet. Yet there was a subtle promise of this not being a friendly invite which was as exciting as unsettling. The air appeared the crackle and you found yourself yearning to taste the electricity on your tongue.

“May I?”

He beckoned to your coat, suddenly free hands already rising and all you could do was to nod, automatically placing your handbag on the floor and unbuttoning the garment. Once if fell open, revealing simple black jeggings and a light pink sweater, Andy sidestepped you, fingers sliding under the hem, cautiously skimming over the bare skin above your collarbones, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

The warmth of his fingertips seeped into your flesh and yet you shuddered, goosebumps rising on your skin.

You watched Andy put your coat away with care, turning back to you torturously slowly. He filled all of your personal space, so close and too far. You weren’t sure when exactly the air turned so heavy in your lungs, but as your gaze travelled to his lips, not missing how his sought yours in return, you felt all the oxygen leave the room.

“Andy,” the word rolled off your tongue, nothing but a soundless breath of his name.

His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips again and back before he spoke, voice barely above a whisper, hoarse.

“Am I imagining it?”

He didn’t have to say what and still you knew with absolute certainty that he was addressing the unbearable and delicious tension, the one that had been building and coming to life during those three nights you had spent talking in his office late--- and now it was back with smouldering intensity.

“You’re not.”

You shivered and gulped when he cautiously took a single little step further into your space, your gaze falling to his chest, lowering in sudden surge of the deep-rotted insecurity, whispering about your and his world being thousands of miles apart. And yet, your heart raced in anticipation, your hopes dizzyingly high that you might touch heaven, even if for a few moments.

When his fingertips grasped your jaw, tough light and oh so careful, your eyelids fluttered close, already indulging in the sensation. God, his touch was so soft despite the roughness of his fingertips…

As if he wished to torture you or to indulge that sweet little moment before lips met lips, he stopped an inch from his destination, his breaths as wavering as yours, the words whispered straight into your mouth just a little broken.

“I’m fucked up.”

Your brain basked in blissful fog, but this got across, causing you to tense briefly.

You couldn’t deny what he was saying, you both knew he spoke the ultimate truth – well, you guessed. What had happened to him, having his life dismantled and then losing his family, that sort of thing was bound to leave a scar. Confirming it bluntly though, that felt unforgiving, only adding insult to injury.

“We all are,” you whispered instead, not only because you wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’, the words too harsh.

And it wasn’t trivializing the tragic turn his life had taken. It wasn’t downplaying the depth of his wounds. It wasn’t necessarily implying that you had been through something equally horrible either. Most importantly, it wasn’t you mocking him.

And somehow, he understood that; even if he could have interpreted it in every wrong way imaginable and shove you away, insulted, disgusted.

But no, in that fleeting moment that meant everything, Andy understood that this was your acceptance; this was you telling him that you were willing to try; take whatever he offered and give anything you could in return.

Finally, his lips brushed over yours, slightly chapped and oh so warm and delicious, withdrawing too soon, leaving you to savour the taste as your ran your tongue over your own lips. You inhaled shakily, overwhelmed by everything that was him, powerful, electrifying and then your hand was somehow on his chest, your palm laid over his racing heart, your fingers twitching as his ribcage expanded with a sharp inhale.

Blindly, your mouth searched his again, his whiskers tickling softly and scratching at once, a pleasant sensation on your sensitive skin as he grew bolder, and truly attached your lips in a kiss that made you feel lightheaded with the emotion poured into it. Your hand curled around his nape, an instinct to pull him closer, fingers toying with the short soft hair there, drawing a hum from within the expanse of his chest.

You granted him access to your mouth when he wordlessly asked, but it was him who retreated shortly after that, his heart now appearing as if in pain with its furious beats under your palm. His breaths started coming out short and it dawned to you what was wrong. How fast this could have felt to him, even if he was the one to start it.

‘I’m fucked up,’ he had said. Too caught in the moment, you hadn’t fully realized the extent of his words perhaps.

But you did now – at least a little better than before.

So when he rested his forehead against yours and a breathless ‘sorry’ slipped from his lips, you shook your head lightly and planted a kiss on his cheek, hand still on the back of his head, fingers running over his scalp in a hopefully soothing motion.

“I’ve got you, Andy. You lead.”

You had no strength to keep him close when he pulled his face away, your eyes snapping open in fright that you had said something terribly wrong.

But Andy’s cerulean eyes were big and glassy, grateful and softly speaking about him being… moved by your proposition. Your heart felt like it just grew twice its size, too big to fit into your chest at what a breath-taking picture he was.

The next thing you knew, he dropped a chaste kiss to your forehead and pulled you into his arms, an almost protective embrace, kissing the top of your head for a good measure and you melted against his large frame, smiling into t-shirt.

“Thank you,” he murmured breathlessly into your hair and your smile widened, remembering the note he had left with the exquisite gift that had started everything that led you right here into this moment.

“Happy Holidays.”

Thank you for reading! I’ve been sitting on this since the beginning of damn November. I hope you enjoyed.

It was my first (and maybe last) time writing Andy, so I hope it was alright. Feedback always appreciated.

P.S. – sorry if the nosy reporters thing offended you.

P.P.S. - …I know, the prompt was veeery loosely filled. Shush.

Pretty divider by whismicalrogers.

#happyhoelidays2020 #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #defending jacob #post defending jacob #andy barber #holiday fic #christmas fic #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #fanfiction #challenge fic #conundrum #anika ann

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infinitegalahad · 3 years

Text

WASHING MACHINE HEART (SNEAK PEAK!)

Prompts: “i’m not jealous!” “you’re clearly jealous.”

Gif Credit: @andrewhaldane

Summary: Nothing ever lasts forever, everybody wants to rule the world. You are pretty much the only person who could change the way Lewis operates, and that's exactly what you do-change him.

Notes: Gender neutral reader. It's not explicitly stated, so I'm leaving it up for interaction. This is for a prompt request that I have decided to take totally out of proportion once again! I blame Lana Del Rey for making me think about sugar daddy Lewis Nixon. Also, Lewis Nixon needs lots of therapy. I mean trigger warning for both characters being unstable and needing help? This is a friends with benefits where one person wants more, and the other does too; but they don't know how to communicate it. Feels ahead! Also if you know the meaning of Washing Machine Heart, then you KNOW what this is going to be. Anything that I write that has Mitski's music is bound to be two things; long and painful. Enjoy this snippet! :D

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @capsparkyspeirs @ask-you-what-sir

“You want me to be you’re what?”

Nearly spitting out drinks, Vat 69 mixed with vodka (A Nixon classic). It was quite a bizarre offer. Maybe Lewis had drunk too much, which was a common habit. But you made eye contact with him and he had a shit eating grin on your face. You let out an awkward laugh, and he followed suit.

You had been Lewis’s assistant operations officer since Caretan, there with him through a demotion, a divorice, and all of the other wonderful things that happened in his life. Not only was he your boss, but someone you confided in. He would confine in you, you would confide in him with stolen alcohol-it was a perfect example of mutualism. It’s as if you were his therapist at first, then a friend, and then a friend with benefits. Everything was kept under wraps, of course, for both of you to honor your diginites. Besides, you wouldn't wanna tarnish Lewis’s relationship with your father-considering that he was his boss, a Major general for the 101rst Airborne Division.

“A confidante. Companion. Confrère.” Nixon explained as he poured more vodka into your empty cup, which was not a good sign, “Miss Nixon won’t leave her baby boy alone. If I show her I have someone on my arm, she’ll shut up.”

“So let me get this straight. I go back home with you to New York, attend a party with you, be your arm candy, and you pay me?” You summarized his point, swimming the drink in your hands.

“Money, gifts, whatever you want, I can give you,” Lewis promised. He leaned against the railing as you looked at him. Your elbows grazed against each other. Resting your chin on your palm, you went deep into this arrangement.

The war had ended in The Pacific, so you could finally go home. As much as you were excited to leave and finally get back home, you’d miss Nixon. Sure, you’d be in Bronxville and he’d be Manhattan, only a train ride apart. Yes, he was a total asshole, but he was your asshole. The two of you had been together through thick and thin. Your parents would never approve of an alcoholic divorcee, but there was something inside of him that made you fill up with nervous excitement.

You could hear your mother’s voice, scolding you about the type of man Lewis was. Maybe he was a little too old, a little too broken, and a little too much for you, but that’s what attracted you to him. Over time, you learned that you and Nixon had much more in common. Both of you wanted to get away from your families. Hell, Nixon was paying for your college tuition at Sarah Lawenrece and when he had a weekend pass into Paris, you would come. For “work purposes”, but in all honesty it was for fine dining in Paris, shopping for the finest things in Champs-Élysées with Nixon, arm in arm wrapped under your finley manicured finger, and learning more about Miss Nixon’s best boy.

It was hard to let go of that. Everything he had done for you, and yet you were just friends with benefits. Still, after all you have gone through. It frustrated you. But after his divorce, you wanted to support him. He had lost everything, and without Dick, he was probably more lonely and hurt than ever. You wanted to be his comfort besides Vat 69. This arrangement could be an opportunity for the both of you. Maybe it would be more than an arrangement, but something bigger than that.

Lewis nudged your elbow as he raised a thick eyebrow, “Well, whatta’ say?”

“I say, why the hell not?” You accepted the offer, and the two of you clinked your drinks together. “So would we call this an arrangement? Be the pretty thing on your shoulder and you give me pretty things? Just like in Paris?”

“Just like Paris.” He reassured you, patting your shoulder. Sitting on a bench, he patted the spot next to you with his arm stretched out. “Sit with me?”

“Why I’d be honored too, good sir!” You dramatically stated for a comedic effect, which earned a smile from Lewis as you sat down right next to him. Moving close, both of your thighs caressed with each other. He adjusted and moved his free arm around you, bringing you close to him. You responded by laying your head on his chest, along with one of your hands.

Lewis didn’t say much besides drinking more from his cup, which kept getting refilled and gouged in seconds. There was a cold silence that filled the air. You kept adjusting in his hold, craving for that attention that wasn’t crude jokes or touch, but it always flew over his head. As he got lost in what the hell he was going to when he was home and the alcohol that poured in his system, you laid on his chest, waiting for that kiss, even though you knew that it wasn’t happening.

You closed your eyes as you laid there, pretending that Lewis was more than an arrangement for you.

The thing was, Lewis wasn’t dumb. He knew that too, but he didn’t know how to put it in words, so he used what he knew who to use best-money and gifts. Just as you always did.

#lewis nixon #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon imagine #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #hbo war #carrie's wips

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cityofimagines · 4 years

Text

My Angel – JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: your relationship with JJ is still relatively new, but that doesn’t stop you from showing just how much your care about him after his has an episode with his dad.

A/N: this popped into my brain randomly because im in love with fluffy jj, and jj in general. i literally just wanna give him the biggest hug in the world 🥺 this is also my first real obx imagine so lmk what you guys think!!

warnings: mentions of abuse

word count: 1841

It was currently a perfect day in the Outer Banks. 86 degrees, not a cloud in the sky, on your way to meet your friends on the dock. You finally found a time when everyone was off work simultaneously for the first time this week. John B’s boat was practically rotting from not being used in five days.

You fast walked down the hill to get to the meeting spot. As you got closer, you noticed most of the pogues plus Sarah Cameron, the newest addition to the group thanks to John B, all chatting.

“Hey guys!” You exclaimed as you neared them at the end of the dock.

“Hey (y/n)!” Kie smiled and ran up to give you a short hug.

“What’s up (y/n)?” John B asked, giving you a nod.

You shook your head. “Not much. Just excited to finally see you guys!” Which earned smiles from the rest of the group. Everyone was clad in swimsuits, t shirts, and flip flops, signaling that they were more than ready to get this day going. But before you could, you noticed something major was off. “Where’s JJ?” You asked looking around for your boyfriend.

“We were gonna ask you the same question.” Pope said.

“That’s so weird. We texted earlier and he was obviously down to come...I assumed he’d be the first one here.” You continued.

“Who knows maybe he’s just running a little late. It wouldn’t be the first time anyway.” Kie smiled and put a hand to your arm. “We can wait a few more minutes.”

You had been friends with all of the pogues for about two years now, pretty much since the week you moved here. However, you and JJ had only been dating for less than a month, so this relationship was still fairly new. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was having doubts about you or your relationship. After that thought passed you wondered if something bad happened to him. JJ is known for having not the cleanest record, much to your dismay, so you couldn’t help but think he was in trouble. As more time passed, the more negative overthinking you did.

You checked your phone for any sign of him, but the only notifications present were from Apple telling you to update your software for the millionth time. The rest of the group had descended into a random conversation, but finally after 10 minutes of waiting for him you decided to speak up.

“Hey guys? I think I might go look for him…” You trailed off, looking in the other direction towards the rest of the island.

“It is pretty weird...JJ isn’t one to miss out on days like these.” John B added. “You want us to come with you?”

You smiled at his offer, but declined. “No it’s fine honestly. You guys go have fun. Don’t let me ruin your day.”

“You could never.” Kie said. “You’re sure?”

You nodded. “I promise it’s okay. I’m just scared something happened. I’m gonna go look for him and maybe we’ll meet up with you guys later if we can.”

Since your relationship with JJ was still so new, you were still learning how to manage spending time with him alone and spending time with the rest of your friends. You felt bad for leaving them because you hadn’t hung out all week, but something was pulling you towards JJ in that moment.

“Sounds good.” Kie finished. “Good luck and hopefully we’ll see you later!”

“Thanks guys.” You smiled one last time before turning to walk back towards where you came from. Your car was parked in a lot close by, so it didn’t take long for you to get in there and gather your thoughts. Where could JJ be? He couldn’t be at work, because he’s been working with Pope and his dad lately, so obviously if Pope was at the dock JJ would be too. The only other place he could be would be...his house?

The second that thought dawned on you, your face sank. His house.

JJ opened up about his home life to you pretty quickly into your relationship. You had known each other for so long before that he felt like he could trust you explicitly. He told you all about how his mom left when he was young, and how his dad is a disgusting physically and emotionally abusive alcoholic. This revelation led to a few tears and more than a few sleepovers at your house.

You backed out of the lot and sped down the streets as fast as you possibly could without it being able to technically count as speeding. Your heart was now pounding at the thought that something bad must have happened today involving his dad.

After a too fast car ride you came up on his street. You parked across the street in front of his house, not even daring to go near the driveway because who knows what his dad would do. You weren’t even completely sure his dad knew you existed.

You felt crazy walking around to the back door dressed in a bikini with nothing but an oversized t-shirt covering you, a messy bun sitting on top of your head, sunglasses behind your ears, and cheap flip flops.

Once you got up to the door, your hand hovered in front of it in a knocking position. Suddenly you were terrified. What if JJ wasn’t even here? What if you were just being a stupid worried clingy girlfriend? What if his dad answered? What would you even do in that situation?

A crazy thought came over you and you decided to forego knocking and reach out for the doorknob instead. You turned it quietly and the door clicked open. You closed it behind you and took a look inside at the house you had only seen a couple times before. Beer bottles lined every open surface. Clothes and dishes were strewn everywhere, medicine bottles sat on the kitchen counters. You bit your lip to keep from tearing up at the sight. The fact that this was the only place the boy who had your heart had to call home broke you.

You walked into the living room and jumped a mile when you saw an adult figure on the couch. Luke Maybank, luckily asleep. Still no sign of JJ.

You walked deeper in the house, down the hall to where you knew JJ’s room was. The door was cracked slightly, and you held your ear up to it. Your heart broke even more when the sound of crying filled your ears. You opened the door and it creaked, causing your boyfriend’s head to snap up in your direction.

“JJ…” You began.

“(Y/N)? What the hell are you doing here-” He said, cutting you off.

No words came out of your mouth for a minute as you took in the sight. He was hunched over sitting on his bed, clutching his side. His shaggy blonde hair looked more oily than normal most likely due to his hands running through it excessively. He had a black eye and a split lip, with random patches of dried blood around his mouth. You had heard about his dad’s horrible parenting, but nothing could have prepared you from seeing its effects in real life for the first time.

Finally you came to your senses. “I was looking for you.” You started. “We were all waiting for you on the dock and when you didn’t show up I just had a feeling something was wrong…God JJ why the fuck didn’t you call me? I would’ve come as soon as I cou-”

“Shh baby. It’s okay. I’m okay.” He said. “C’mere.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes as you took all of three steps towards him. He wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you in. Your head rested on his.

“It’s not okay!” You cried out, his hair muffling your voice. He shushed you and started rubbing your back.

“I’m fine sweetheart. You shouldn’t even be here anyways-”

“Will you shut up?” You said, the question coming out harsher than you meant. You quickly pulled away and looked down at him. “Shit- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...I’m just fucking frustrated that you have to go through this. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

JJ reached up to wipe the tear that had fallen onto your cheek. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. I promise I’m fine. Go back out with everyone. I’ll catch up later.” He said.

“No.” You shook your head. “We’re going to my house. I’m fixing you up.”

“(y/n)...”

“Either you come with me or I’ll help you here.” You gave him an ultimatum.

He sighed and his head fell forwards on your stomach. He was still sitting on his bed and you stood in between his legs. You grabbed his hand in yours. “Please baby. Let me take care of you.”

“Okay. Your house it is.” You helped him up and walked him out to your car. You even helped him into the passenger seat, much to his dismay. Seeing him like this had you seething inside, you couldn’t help but want to love on him with everything you had.

A short drive to your house later, you walked inside and told him to sit down on the couch. Your parents were both at work and you assumed your older sister was with her own friends. You ran to the bathroom to get bandaids, rubbing alcohol, and an ice pack for his eye.

You sat down with everything and began tending to his cuts. You felt like crying again, but reminded yourself to be strong for him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked after a few moments of silence.

He shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about. He’s just an asshole.”

“I wish I could do something more to stop it.”

“You do enough. I don’t deserve you.” He said quietly.

“Stop it. If anything I don’t deserve you.” You replied. You took the ice pack off his face for a minute to look into his eyes fully. “You’re the best part of my life JJ Maybank. When you’re hurting so am I.”

He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “My angel.”

You wrapped your arms around his torso delicately so as to not hurt him. You weren’t sure if words could adequately describe what you were feeling regarding JJ, so you just sat in his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you after a few moments.

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with all of this. I hate making you upset.”

“Not your fault.” You whispered into his shirt. “I would do anything for you. You know that.”

He pushed your head up to his and planted a passionate kiss to your lips. He pulled away and rested his forehead to yours. You ran a gentle hand up and down his side, feeling him get chills as you traced the muscles that hid underneath his soft skin.

“You wanna sleep?” You asked.

“Honestly...yeah.” He said quietly.

You patted his legs twice signaling for him to stand up. You switched positions so you were sitting behind him.

Once he got comfortable in your lap, you started running your hands through his hair and on his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed.

“I got you sunshine. You’re safe with me.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks headcanon #jj headcanon #jj maybank headcanon #dating jj maybank #john b #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine #jj fluff #jj x reader fluff #jj maybank fluff

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who-talks-first · 3 years

Text

Okay I'm having trouble finding everyone's posts from Friday. But I just watched chapter 9 and I have some thoughts.

Opening the episode with Din saying he doesn't gamble then ending it with him making a massive gamble was interesting. Although I genuinely don't think he ever does anything he doesn't believe he can do.

The fights in this episode are amazing. Just stunning:

The fight at the arena. The Child ducking when he sees the Birds activate. "I'm not." Really. Din, stop being so goddamn fucking hot, I'm trying to watch the damn show! The whole dangling the gangster part. "You won't die by my hand." (one of the best parts of the character Din Djarin is he is both viciously ruthless and honorable to a fault. I love it!)

The fighting at the end. Both men flying in sync to kill the beast. The Raiders and townsfolk grudgingly working together. But it would have worked better just leaving the loaded bantha in the valley, luring the best out, and detonating it. Fewer civilian deaths but what do I know, I wasn't raised in the fighting corps. And god at the end when Din soars out of the monster's mouth! I that was how the episode would end as soon as I saw the explosives. But still so fucking cool! Is there a name for that trope? I call it the Hercules.

Can we talk for a second about how Din looks in this ep? The strides, the poses and posture. He exudes so much bde that it physically hurts me. Clearly a lot of that is Mandalorian in nature, if those images of Boba Fett from the comics tell us anything (Fett sitting spread in his ship and Din doing it on the wagon at Sorgan have p much the same energy). Just looking fine as hell through the whole thing, even covered in deadly dragon stomach acid.

And can we talk about how much he says this episode? He explains the Tuskens' behavior, translates, plans, barters, smooches doggies, etc. He talks a lot. And I think that's interesting. Din has this reputation as being awkward in social situations and quiet. And like, it's one thing feeling shy around the beautiful widow who's hitting on you. But he says what he means clearly and more or less concisely, including some one-liners and sarcasm. I think he could be described as "laconic" (my character does describe him as such in the thing I'm writing), which means they use as few words as possible to get their point across. Din has no hesitation in speaking, he just prefers to only speak when he has something to say, if that makes sense.

So happy to see Aunt Peli! And Din being like "eh let them work" That's what we call growth.

The casting. I nearly lost my shit when Timothy Olyphant was under the helmet, looking like a whole ass meal. Like that is the most flattering haircut and beard combo I've ever seen on him. Don't @me but he could get it. And poor typecast Leguizamo. Still great tho. He was fun little asshole.

I love when this show doubles down on the western themes:

Vanth's name, accent, role, and general appearance all line up with a small town wild west sheriff. Just showing up and saving the town, so they're like, you're the Lone Ranger now! Olyphant has played western roles before, including voicing The Spirit of the West (an avatar of the legends and ideals of the wild west modeled on Clint Eastwood's western characters) in the animated film Rango (a lot of the Mandalorian's aesthetic comes from Eastwood's movies).

The Mandalorian theme but softly strummed on a Spanish (nylon string) guitar is very evocative of a border town.

The tuskens represent an Indian tribe. The abandoned mining town. The mysterious stranger who comes to town and saves it. Vanth and Din nearly have a quickdraw shootout! The child is hiding in a spittoon for chrissakes!

It really echoes the 7 Samurai theme of chapter 4. I know it's an overlapping, repeating theme in western film. I guess I was surprised to see it again so quickly.

I don't know how I feel about Din speaking Tusken. Signing was one thing. But I just giggled uncomfortably the whole time feeling it was kinda silly (and I had assumed the reason he signed was because humans couldn't speak Tusken). Was that our big hero, heartthrob, and favorite actor Mr. Pascal sitting in the studio making those noises? Rrrhehh rheh rrhehh! I dunno I'm just. Reeling.

Isn't interesting that Din would annihilate the entire populace of Jawas without batting an eye, but he would do almost anything to protect the Sand People? I know there's something to that, about marginalized/eugenicized groups versus like colonialism and whatever vulture like construct you would attribute to the Jawas. But I'm not smart enough to articulate it.

Okay, so the obvious: Boba Fett. Really shocked to see his armor on someone else. I'd already seen the casting of Morrison, so I wasn't like, "is he dead?" and I knew right away this hick didn't take it off him. I wonder if the Jawas stunned him and removed it. Either way, there's going to be hell to pay. I can't wait to see Din and Boba interact; I wonder how they'll respond to each other. And even though Fett should be in his early 40s (I think) he really looks like hell. I mean, I know he's seen some shit. But I wonder what's been up with him in the last decade or so.

Some stuff I thought I noticed, but I need y'all to help me confirm:

Was that Anakin's podracer engine?

Was that C-3PO graffitied on the wall in the dirty city?

Were we supposed to recognize R5?

There's a couple others but I forgot em. I gotta watch it again.

Some questions:

What was the spherical thing the Tusken Raiders recovered from the beast's remains? The scene mirrored the Jawas and the mudhorn's TSUGA! Tsuga tsuga! Tsuuuga! But that didn't look like an egg. If I didn't know better I would swear it was a pearl. (which almost makes sense if you take into account that this guy eats dirt for a living and could have an organ or extra stomach in there like those gross hard balls they used to pull out of ox bellies) Or was it mentioned earlier and I didn't catch it? There was a lot going on.

What are the sand doggies? They're so cute! And that totally establishes our mans as a dog person. Writers, start your fics!

I'm a bit confused about the town's history. How have the people survived for so long with the beast there? Was it the Krayt dragon that wiped it literally off the map? How does the slaving mining guild fit in there?

It really looks in chapter 4 that those krill are native (it's not explicitly stated tho). If no one even knows where Sorgan is and it doesn't have a big export economy, how do these people in the middle of buttfuck nowhere have spotchka?

On that note, how did that city gangster hear about Fett/Vanth? I mean, I dig that he's a collector of beskar'gam, but like, that's still way out there.

The jingling spurs sound in chapter 5 is deliberately obvious when that mysterious figure comes upon Fennec Shand. Can we assume that's Cobb Vanth there? Because clearly, Fett has been without his armor for a while. If it was Vanth, what did he do with her? I don't believe for a second that she's dead. He's not a bounty hunter and he wouldn't have any idea she was valuable since the Guild had abandoned Tatooine. Barter for help/transportation /goods/labor /etc? Also, if it was Vanth, did he witness the whole thing? If so, he knows who Din is. Maybe knows Toro. I dunno. Lots of thoughts. Did he just stumble upon her while traveling back to his village? I forgot the name already lol Mos Pelegrino?

Okay it's nearly 4 am. I genuinely can't remember if I had anything else to say. Please continue to tag your spoilers cuz I will again not get to view the episode until after y'all do next week. But until then, please come yell at me about our favorite show and space boyfriend. I like crazy theories too.

Love y'all. 😘😘😘

#cobb vanth #The mandalorian #The mandalorian spoilers #Mandalorian season 2 spoilers #The mandalorian season 2 spoilers #Mandalorian spoilers #The child #boba fett #Fennec Shand #pedro pascal #timothy olyphant #temuera morrison

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starrynite7114 · 4 years

Text

Invisible Man

A/N: So, I don’t know how this happened, I literally got this out in like a few hours. The idea wouldn’t leave my head so I had to post it. Hope you all enjoy this one too!

I would like to blame for @justahopelessssromantic for this one. Kidding, you know I loves you twin!

Masterlist

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @iambabyharry : @briannab1234 : @carlaangel86 : @marvelmaree

“How do I look?” You asked EZ as you looked at him through the mirror.

EZ was speechless. He didn’t know what to say. It crushed him to look at you knowing that he wasn’t going to be the one at the end of the aisle. But he figured it was his fault since he realized too late that he was in love with you.

When did he realize he was in love with you?

It was supposed to be the most romantic night of your life. Angel had Felipe and EZ present when he proposed to you after a fun night at the carnival with the three Reyes men. Angel proposed to you in front of the ferris wheel. The elated smile on your face was engraved in EZ’s memory because it was the moment he realized that he wanted to be in Angel’s position, he wanted to be the one you were happily smiling down on as tears came out of your eyes.

He heard you say yes and he felt like his world was falling apart.

He realized he was in love with you when his brother asked for your hand in marriage. All he could do was watch and clap, hoping he was expressing a happy smile on his lips.

“You look gorgeous.” EZ breathed out, watching as your cheeks showed a hint of pink.

“You’re just saying that.” You replied as you turned to face him. “I’m getting married, Ezekiel.”

Yeah, you were getting married and it wasn’t to him.

EZ wanted to be angry, wanted to hate Angel, but he couldn’t. He was happy for both of you, it was on him. He realized it too late and he wasn’t even sure if you even felt something for him. Because for as long as EZ could remember, you hated Angel. His cocky older brother who was a bad influence on him.

====================

“I can’t believe he’s your brother.” You commented as you adjusted your snapback, walking down the street towards your house.

You and EZ just ran into Angel, who purposely tripped his younger brother. Angel was such an asshole and you hated him with a burning passing. Every time you two ran into one another, you could feel the temperature dropping with the icy glares you two would give one another.

EZ chuckled, shrugging. “Angel’s like that, but he’s actually pretty nice. He always helps me out with baseball.”

“Well, it’s the only thing he could help you with since he’s an idiot.” You countered.

“We’ve been best friends for eight years now, we’re seventeen, how can you hate Angel all these years?”

“How can you not hate Angel?” You retorted. “Well, he’s your brother, I guess it makes sense. I don’t know, he’s just an asshole. He makes it a point to just fuck with me.”

“How so?” This was new to Angel, you’ve never exactly voiced out why you weren’t a big fan of Angel.

“I don’t know, you know he took me out on valentine’s day?”

“What?” EZ stopped walking.

“He didn’t tell you?” You bit your lip, shaking your head. “He most likely just didn’t want to fight with you.”

You began to walk, but EZ stopped you. “What do you mean? You never told me you went out. You said you were with your sister.”

“I was, I didn’t lie. I went out with her, but then Angel’s friend Johnny started talking to her so she left me alone. I was about to leave the restaurant, but Angel sat with me.”

“Wait, you have to go from the beginning.” EZ did not like this one bit. He was very selfish with you, but he didn’t care. You were his friend, not Angel’s. Angel had his choices of women to fuck with, you were off-limits, he knew that.

“Okay, so my sister wanted to go out for valentine’s day, galentine’s day since she didn’t have a date. So we went to Red Robin then we were going to go to the movies. Well, Johnny and Angel came in and he started talking up my sister. Next thing I know, they were leaving and you know, it’s okay, shit happens.” You couldn’t even look at EZ. You were certain that Angel would have told him, tell him how he took out his best friend and how pathetic it was. The fact that Angel didn’t tell him made you wonder why he didn’t. He most likely was embarrassed. “Anyways, Angel insisted that we stayed so we did then he took me out to the movies.” It was the most alone time you spent with Angel and you hated to say it, but it was actually pretty decent. “Nothing happened.” You weren’t sure why you felt disappointed informing EZ that fact, but you let it roll off. Angel was a player, he wasn’t your type, you weren’t interested. “I’m sure he just stayed with me out of pity since you were out with Emily.”

EZ began walking again, unsure of what to say. One thing he knew for sure was that he had to talk to his brother.

==========

And he did speak to Angel.

That’s when he found out that Angel had a crush on you. That Angel and Coco had noticed that you and your sister went to Red Robin while they were across the street at some Taqueria. He convinced Coco to take one for the team and take your sister away while he stayed with you. Angel told him that he had liked you, but he knew that EZ wouldn’t exactly be okay with the idea. He tried his best to keep his interest to himself, but he couldn’t anymore, so he made his move.

After that talk, EZ was upset at Angel. He had his choice of women, why did he have to like you? EZ cherished your friendship since you were the person he confided in most. There were things he couldn’t tell Emily that he could tell you with no trouble. Angel knew that you were off limits, he explicitly told his brother, that there was no reason for him to be interested in you. But Angel being Angel, the forbidden fruit was the sweetest.

But EZ also knew that Angel’s interested in you would eventually wane. He was almost a young adult, he knew Angel would want to be as free as a bird and not tied down to one girl.

However, at every turn, his brother surprised him. Angel didn’t officially ask you out on a date till you graduated high school. After your first official date with Angel at the bowling alley, EZ felt the dynamics changed. But he couldn’t even catch up because next thing he knew, he was at Stanford and you were attending a community college to save cost. Every time Angel would visit him up north, he brought you along and EZ hated it.

For EZ, it was due to the fact that you were best friends and Angel was threatening his position in your life. But that was placed in the back burner when his mother passed away. His life was turned upside down and you were the last thing on his mind, hell Emily was the last thing on his mind. He went to jail and every weekend without a fail, you visited EZ with Felipe and Angel. At times, it was only you and Felipe. EZ found out now that the times that Angel didn’t come was due to you and Angel fighting, so instead of swallowing his pride, Angel didn’t come along.

He expected Angel's interest to fade, especially when he became part of the club, but instead, Angel fell deeper and deeper in love with you and the same with you. Whenever he observed you two, he couldn’t believe just how enamored his brother was. Angel looked at you as if you held the world and he hung onto every word you had to say.

EZ was happy for you two, especially Angel. He knew his brother had some underlying issues with him, stemming from the favoritism that Angel felt existed, but he was happy his brother finally had someone, even if it was you.

EZ was the first person that Angel confided in about marrying you.

Angel came to visit him on his own, after delivering some products to the Stockton charter.

====================

“I’m gonna ask her to marry me.” Angel told his baby brother, sliding the ring over to him.

“Shit, you two that serious?” EZ wasn’t even sure why he asked that, but the expression on Angel’s face told it all.

Angel knew that EZ had some feelings for you, but his younger brother just never came to terms with it. Quite frankly, Angel was fine with that, you were his and EZ wasn’t going to change that. If there was one thing in this world he was selfish with, it was you. He would never lose you to EZ. Over his dead fucking body.

“What kind of a fucking question is that? Of course we’re serious. Ezekiel, I’ve been with her for six years.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. This is a big step Angel, do you really want to marry her?”

“Look, I know you have some feelings for her, but you can go fuck yourself, Ezekiel.” He saw the look his brother gave him and he chuckled. “Obviously, you still haven’t realized it, which is fine, it’s a win for me. But just know, I don’t give a fuck if you do figure it out. Y/N has been mine since that Valentine’s Day all those years ago. You’re my brother, I love you, but she’s the one person that I would never let you have.”

====================

Angel didn’t ask you to marry him till two years after he showed EZ that ring. EZ still didn’t realize then, when he did realize, he couldn’t bring it to himself to tell you. There were so many times that he wanted to tell you, but he couldn’t do it.

====================

“Does he have feelings for her? Is there something going on?” You questioned EZ as you both sat in the living room of the home you shared with Angel.

Angel was over the border, visiting Adelita after the whole Galindo deal came into light. You were secured in your relationship, but there were times that Angel didn’t seem to be with you anymore and it frightened you. You’ve been with Angel for almost ten years and throwing it all away now, it would devastate you.

“No, you know he loves you.” In his mind, he yelled out how much he loves you, how much he wanted to be the one to hold you at night. The one that you fretted over whenever they were out doing a run. EZ felt like a prick, wanting his brother’s wife, but he couldn’t help himself. After his realization, it was hard to ignore. “He asked you to marry him, he’s been wanting to ask you for years.”

“How do you know?”

“He visited me at Stockton, showed me the ring.”

You leaned on EZ, his arm wrapping around you. He knew that Angel wouldn’t be thrilled to see him, especially after he found out of his deal, but you invited him here. Angel could go fuck himself. As much as Angel wanted to push him out, tell him he didn’t belong in Santo Padre, he did. For once, things felt right and he wasn’t going to give that way.

“I love you EZ, I’m so happy you’re home.” EZ’s heart crushed then, hearing you say those words to him, since he knew you didn’t mean it like he did.

“I love you too.”

EZ looked up at the ceiling then, trying to prevent himself from shedding tears. It was so difficult to be around you at times. He wanted to tell you how he felt, how much he loves you and how he wished you would pick him over Angel, but after everything he put Angel through, what that would do to you and his already fractured relationship with his brother, he bit his tongue.

“Mi dulce, I’m home,” you heard Angel call out. The living room was at the back of the house near the kitchen, so you both didn’t hear Angel opening the front door.

You stood up to greet your fiance and his eyes were immediately on EZ. “Bish needs you,” he informed EZ. “Hey baby,” he wrapped his arms around you, kissing you on your lips. It gave Angel some satisfaction knowing that it killed EZ whenever he saw you two be intimate.

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” he gave you a kiss on the cheek since Angel let you go. He walked past his older brother, who didn’t even look his way.

“See you,” you called out after him. “Everything okay?”

“No, but it will be soon. I gotta catch you up.”

====================

“EZ,” you shook EZ who has been silent ever since you asked him how you looked. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I just can’t believe you’re marrying my brother. You used to hate him.” He pointed out.

You laughed. “Yes I did, but you know, the more you hate, the more you love.”

“Shut up,” EZ looked at you once again, hating his brother more and more every second that passed. “You ready?”

“Yes, I am.”

EZ offered you his arm, which you gladly took. Your parents died a few years back and as much as you wanted your sister to walk you down the aisle, EZ offered to walk you down in some bout of craziness. He didn’t know why he did it, but he reasoned that it was supposed to be poetic.

With him walking you down the aisle to give you away to Angel, it was him giving up on you, that this was the end of the line and he could never turn back after today. He was tempted to confess to you now, but he was almost certain you would laugh in his face.

Ever since Angel became a more prominent fixture in your life, EZ began to feel the shift and he tried to resist it at first, but he knew it was futile.

In some ways, he felt that he became the invisible man, he watched as you fell for Angel and just let it happen.

“Thank you for doing this,” you told EZ.

“Anything for you, you know that.”

“This doesn’t change anything, we still gang up on Angel cause he deserves it.”

EZ laughed. “Of course.”

You both heard the bridal march play. EZ kissed your cheek before the doors opened. He looked down the aisle at Angel and could tell his brother was elated, the tears were coming soon, he knew. Angel was an emotional man and once he saw you coming his way, Angel would lose it.

EZ was right. Angel began to wipe his eyes as you both made your way down. The walk seemed to be quick cause the next thing EZ knew, Angel was in front of him.

“Thanks bro,” Angel gave him a hug before taking your hand and bringing you towards the altar.

EZ took his place beside you, being the man of honor. He wanted to laugh at how things turned out, but in some ways, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The most important thing was your happiness and you were happy with Angel, there’s nothing else he could ask for.

====================

EZ watched as everyone danced, with Taza spinning you around, your princess dress twirling as he did. He saw the chair beside him being pulled at the corner of his eye. He looked over and found Angel.

“You doing okay?” Angel knew. EZ was his younger brother and he knew it hurt for him to do what he did, but EZ did it anyway.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be? I’m not the one who’s tied down.” EZ attempted to joke with Angel, but he knew it wasn’t carrying over well.

“I know it hurts, but I told you all those years ago. I would never give her up, Ezekiel.”

“I know, and I’m not going to argue with you. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you though, for walking her down the aisle, I know it meant the world to her.”

“Angel, can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.” Angel took a swig of his beer.

“Why her? Out of every one here, why did you fall for her?”

Angel shrugged. “If I’m honest with you, I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t care much for her at first, she was your best friend, I thought she was annoying just like you. But then there was this one weekend that I stayed behind while you, mom and pops along with Emily went to the river. She came over to borrow a game of yours and I was sick as shit.” Angel fondly remembered that weekend. You stayed with him the whole weekend, leaving an hour before his family returned. He had a terrible fever and cough, you stayed with him, out of the kindness of your heart even though he never even gave you a glance prior to that weekend. The fact that you cared for him, it placed you in his radar and you just never went away. “She took care of me and after that, I just noticed her. It sounds stupid, I know, and I tried to fight my feelings for her, but then I stopped giving a fuck. I was drawn to her, I wanted to know more about her. It baffled me that I didn’t know anything about the girl who was attached to my brother’s hip. Once she batted those eyes at me, I was a goner.”

EZ nodded his head. “I hope you never hurt her.”

“Why, cause you’ll come swoop in and take her?” Angel scoffed. EZ had another thing coming if he thought he was going to let you go.

“No, she won’t leave you now, but I just hope you never hurt her. She’s been through too much, gave up so much for you to fuck up on her now.”

“She has our last name now, EZ. I haven’t fucked up on her after all these years, what makes you think it’ll happen now?”

“You’re right.” EZ downed his beer, placing it on the table. “I am happy for you, regardless of how I feel about her.”

“Thank you,” Angel patted his shoulder. “If you excuse me, I have to dance with my wife.”

EZ chuckled and playfully pushed Angel towards you. He watched as Angel wrapped his arms around you and the laugh that you let out as he did.

As long as you were happy, that’s what mattered to EZ.

He hung onto that belief and he wasn’t going to let that go.

#angel reyes #angelreyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic #angel reyes fanfic #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic #ez reyes #ez reyes fanfic

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thebad---catholic · 4 years

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My problems with AOS

Well here I am, 10 years late with an opinion no one asked for, but I have to write this down and throw into the void so that I can be at peace. I’ve been salty about this film franchise for a very long time now. This will mostly focus on Star Trek (2009) with the other two movies sprinkled in.

1. Starfleet

Honestly where do I even begin? In TOS, Starfleet was modeled after the navy (idk how accurately, but Roddenberry was in the air force so I’m assuming he’d know how all that works). You can get a feel for the chain of command, and everything feels natural with character ages and things like that. There’s a procedure for everything.

AOS Starfleet feels more like a high school club than an interplanetary exploration organization. Jim is supposed to be twenty-five when he gets the rank of captain- after he was almost expelled for cheating. He has no idea how to operate or run a starship. TOS Kirk moved through the ranks of Starfleet and was promoted on merit and leadership skills- he worked for his position.

Why was Jim the only person who knew what was happening when Nero showed up? Was there any requirements to joining to Starfleet other than get on the shuttle? Why did the linguist not know the difference between Vulcan and Romulan when they’re the linguist? How did Pike bypass the chain of command to appoint Jim Kirk as First Officer which was an obvious show of favoritism to someone was about to be thrown out of the academy? Why the fuck was he allowed to keep the title of captain? What the fuck?

Speaking of Jim.

2. Jim Kirk’s Character

I...don’t like Jim’s character in this film. It’s not terrible for a younger version of Kirk, but like I said though, there’s no reason Kirk should be this young. And in this one he’s just kinda a douche.

We know from TOS that Kirk gets around, but he genuinely cares for his exes, and in general respects women. He uses sex appeal as a strategy, but more than anything this comes off as a subversion of the femme fatal trope bc Kirk is a man. In the movie, he’s just a standard action movie protag who has lots of sex just because.

The scene when the Orion woman says she loves him and he replied “that’s so weird” is just...so weird? Like I can’t imagine Kirk doing anything in that situation than backing off and explaining that he doesn’t feel the same way. The scene continues with him hiding under the bed when Uhura walks in. Watching how the camera angle makes Jim out to be a voyeur made me uncomfortable then and it still does. It could be explained that Jim is trying to figure out Uhura’s identity or that he’s listening in and people look at who they’re listening to but like...she was in her underwear. You shouldn’t look at people while they’re getting undressed, especially when they don’t even know you’re there? Is that a hot take? Apparently.

In TOS there’s this really nice scene in This Side of Paradise(S1E24) where the whole crew is high (again) and has abandoned ship, leaving Kirk to tend to things. We see Jim move around the ship with a little clip pad and make the proper checks. This is a captain who knows his stuff. That is the Kirk we should have seen if we’re going to see Jim become captain.

AOS kirk goes through a standard “stop being an asshole” arc commonplace for male protagonists, but this happens well past the point he should stop being an asshole. Either the AOS series should’ve been a prequel with Jim becoming captain at the end of the trilogy, or he should’ve been older with a completely different arc- maybe coming to terms with his rank? Imposter syndrome? Learning to trust his crew and building trust with them? Building a friendship with Spock and McCoy? There’s a lot to work with here.

3. Spock and Uhura’s relationship

Why. Like why. For what. Por Que.

I like giving Uhura a bigger role, I don’t like making her a love interest to do that.

It doesn’t make sense for either of their characters. Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, linguist expert who handles all transmissions to and from the enterprise- an icon of black women’s representation is now demoted to Spock’s nagging girlfriend. This bothers me more than a little bit.

It manages to make even less sense for Spock. A hallmark of Spock’s character is his duality. He struggles to combat his emotions and the human half of him. His repeating character arc in TOS is coming to terms with humanity while upholding the Vulcan way of life. Having him in an established romantic relationship before this arc is supposed to happen just makes for a boring romantic subplot about a relationship that shouldn’t happen and that I don’t care about.

TOS Vulcan culture is kinda shitty. Explicitly patriarchal and stuff, and also kinda racist against humans. The source of Spock’s inner conflict is not himself but a society that views him as lesser for being half human. However, one thing that I can certainly understand from a “logical” (logic in quotations bc racism and sexism is fucking stupid) people is ritualized arranged marriages. It just...makes sense to me that Vulcans would simply have their mates chosen for them and then marry that person and be done with it. Neat. Logical. Conformity.

This makes Spock and Uhura’s relationship even stranger. Why would Spock go so against conformity that he dates someone before he truly comes to terms with himself? Even if they throw out ponfarr and arranged marriage, it still doesn’t work but now it especially doesn’t work.

My personal theory is that Spock and Uhura’s relationship was established purely to make shippers shut up. It’s no secret Spirk is the most popular ship from TOS. I have no doubt they knew this while writing the movie. So to quietly wrap a no homo on Spock and Kirk’s friendship, they use Uhura as a prop to do so.

The teacher/student dynamic should only be relegated to fan fiction and the throwaway line about oral sensitivity makes me cringe. Every. Time.

4. McCoy

Karl Urbans performance is easily my favorite part of this movie. He captures DeForrest Kelley so well it hurts. He made Leonard Nimoy cry. His chemistry with Pine made McKirk go from the most underrated triumvirate ship in TOS to rival Spirks popularity in AOS. His scenes with Zachary Quinto are just *chefs kiss*.

So why doesn’t he have more of a role? The triumvirate is missing a third.

In particular, there’s a scene where Uhura, Kirk, and Spock make their way down to a planet to talk to a Klingon. I can’t remember which movie it was or why, but Spock and Uhura were bickering and Kirk remarks “can we do this later?”

The line was funny. It would’ve been golden if it was McCoy and not Uhura.

A fantastic performance by an underutilized character in a movie where that character should’ve been at the forefront.

5. Representation

I am skeptical of any movie that advertises diversity. Nonetheless, it made me happy to know Sulu was going to be gay. This is Star Trek after all, known for its diversity and large LGBT fan base, and an homage to George Takai who’s a gay man irl. So whatever.

The fact that I wasn’t expecting much says a lot about the current state of LGBT rep in media but this blink-and-you-miss-it shit is really starting to get to me.

I mean he jus- he doesn’t even give his husband a KISS. Like why.

6. Destroying Vulcan

WHY. Oh god why.

This isn’t Star Wars, JJ. We don’t do that here.

Imploding Vulcan was the most god awful shock value bullshit plot device I’ve ever seen in a movie and it was done entirely to make Spock sad. Besides the gaping plot hole of “why did Nero go back in time to destroy Vulcan when he could’ve just saved Romulus” I’m just grasping to find a purpose for this particular event. New fans don’t care at all about Vulcan while I was enraged that they would do Amanda that dirty.

It’s not just that they did that, it’s more that they did it like that. Vulcan’s destruction should’ve caused a federation wide meltdown as the biggest catastrophe in the entire franchise. If they were gonna make the stakes so pointlessly high, they should’ve treated the destruction of Vulcan exactly how they would treat the destruction of earth. There a million ways to treat that event with more gravity and million better plot lines that don’t involve G E N O C I D E

7. Miscellaneous petty bullshit because I’m a baby

-lower the fucking stakes Jesus Christ

-Don’t like the set. It’s bright and white and boring and gives me a headache. You don’t need a remake of the old set but like have fun ya know? Shit looks like an Apple store.

-Christine and I are the same in that we are both soft and are thirsty for Spock. Imagine my surprise to learn she wasn’t fucking there. Same with Janice but I’m more pressed about Christine. I don’t even remember the name of that blonde doctor lady who is Not Christine but i didn’t want her.

-The costumes in AOS look boring but still don’t feel like a uniform either. I deadass think Chris Pines outfit in the SNL skit looked better than the actual movie (minor adjustments needed)

-I didn’t notice this at first but someone pointed out that women’s uniforms don’t signify rank and now I can’t not see it. I don’t...think this movie treats women good? Or McCoy? Or just people who deserve better?

-Lens Flare

-I get why they did it but I don’t like that they misquoted the opening theme to say “no one” instead of “no man”. I probably wouldn’t have even notice except they gave the line to Uhura. Comes off as just a touch too “yay feminism” which is really rich coming from that treated Uhura like an object to be looked at when she wasn’t too busy being Spock’s emotional support gf, and completely cut two women from the main cast.

8. Conclusions

If I could describe these movies in one word it’d be generic. Which sucks because Star Trek far from generic.

They’re fun to watch but not think about. It was nice that I got to see a Star Trek movie in theaters. I just wish it as the same Trek I saw on TV.

#star trek the original series #star trek tos #star trek aos #star trek alternate original series #jj abrams #jim kirk #captain kirk #dr mccoy #bones mccoy #spock #mr spock #lt uhura #nyota uhura #hikaru sulu #star trek #star trek headcanon #trekkie #trekker #star trekkin

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thesigilsofbaphomet · 4 years

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Lucifer Wants What’s Best For You

(And God is Your Enemy)

So... I touched on this in my response to someone talking about using Micheal in Catholic Folk Magic as a protective, social justice spirit. But I cut my overall take short, because it was off topic. But I wanted to talk about it, so, it’s time for one of my rare non-reblog posts on this blog.

I’ll begin by restating my overall premise- If you look at both canonical and folk-loric sources on Satan, you see a figure who simply desires to help people.

The Snake in the Garden

It is important to note that The Serpent in Genesis is not Lucifer/Satan/The Devil. It’s just... a serpent. Like, it’s not even, specifically, a demon. But the serpent, being a magical talking animal who convinces humans to act contrary to the will of God, is commonly seen as a demon. And I’ll go with that.

So, God creates the whole universe. This includes The Garden of Eden, the paradise that God rents to the first humans in exchange for their obedience. They’re allowed to eat from any tree in the Garden, except the tree in the center, known as the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil (The ToKoGaE).

Note- God created Eden for Adam and Eve. God is omniscient, meaning all knowing, thus he knows that Adam and Eve will eventually eat the fruit of the tree. The general Christian take is that the tree is a test. However, if you know that the test takers will fail a test, and you know you will give them a rather extreme punishment for that failure, is it not extremely cruel to present that test?

So the serpent talks to Eve, and there’s an exchange, and eventually, the snake convinces Eve to eat ToKoGaE fruit. Giving her knowledge of Good and Evil. And there’s some really weird thing here where suddenly she knows she’s nude, because she ate fruit that gives her moral knowledge, and apparently there’s a moral weight to nudity? And it’s bad? But God made them nude? So God explicitly create humans in a state of Sin and this whole original sin shit doesn’t really fucking hold up if they were created in a state of sin to begin with? I digress. Eve gives Adam the ToKoGaE fruit, now they both know their nude, so they start gluing leaves to their skin with sap or something (I refuse to believe they had any actual knowledge of how to weave leaves into clothes like it’s just a thing you can do and not something you have to learn how to do, and there’s literally no reason for them to have done that prior, so this is literally the first time they’re trying to use leaves as cover).

And the usual Christian take is that the snake is wrong in this. But... knowledge is good, and God was specifically withholding knowledge from Adam and Eve. So the Serpent was helping them.

Satan Scares a Guy’s Ass

No, literally. A guy named Balaam is riding a donkey and Satan appears to scare the donkey to stop him.

This story makes no goddamned sense, even when you read it in a vaguely modern dialect. But, basically, the Israelites leave Egypt and settle, and the guy who rules the land next to them says “holy shit, that’s a lot of guys, they might come take my shit.” So he sends some messengers to a seer, Balaam, to ask him to curse the Israelites so he can beat them in battle. Balaam says “Ok, sleep here, I’ll tell you what God says in the morning.” In the morning, Balaam’s like “Bad news, guys. God says I can’t go with you. The Israelites are blessed.” The king sends more messengers who are more official looking and they say “Look, dude, our lord will give you SO MUCH HONOR if you come curse these guys for us”

So Balaam says “Look, I don’t care if your king sucks my dick gives me his palace and all his money, I can’t go against God. But stay here, I’ll tell you if he says anything more in the morning (and on reflection, it almost seems like this is explicitly acknowledging that God is just extremely capricious). God tells Balaam, “Ok, go with them, but do exactly what I tell you.” So Balaam saddles his ass up, and goes with them.

And God gets pissed off? Because, I’ll repeat, God is a capricious asshole. So Satan (or, An Angel of the Lord, depending on the translation you read, but the original Hebrew says it’s Satan, who, in Judaism, is an angel of YHWH, and basically exists to test humans) appears, only visible to Balaam’s donkey, and the donkey says “oh fuck that, I’m gonna go to this field over here.” Balaam hits the donkey and the donkey goes back to the pass. So Satan appears again, this time in a narrow pass, so the donkey say “eeengghh...” and tries to, like, slide past Satan by scrapping the wall, and scrapes Balaam’s foot, so, again, Balaam beats his ass. Finally, Satan appears on, like, a narrow bridge, and the donkey can’t turn, can’t just scrape against a wall, and so just lays down. Balaam is, again, pissed off, and Satan opens Balaam’s eyes and asks him why he’s beating his donkey, and God opens the donkey’s mouth so the donkey can be like “no seriously, what the fuck, dude?”

But, so, in Numbers, Satan appears to just stop a guy from doing what God told him not to (and then to) do.

“They go through houses — they go up, they ring doorbells”

In Chronicles, David, king of Israel, decides to have a census. Or Satan tells him to. It’s not clear. In Samuel, David has the idea independently, but in Chronicles Satan tells him to. But anyway. David wants to have a census, which is a pretty reasonable thing. Censuses have a purpose, they tell a government how many people there are, and where they live, and, in America, give data that can be used to decide where and how to spend tax money. But for some reason, authoritarians don’t like censuses.

I want to say more about this, but... it’s literally just “Satan tells David to take a census, God doesn’t like that.” and then God sending an angel to tell David “pick a punishment!”

The Outlier--Job

I feel like a broken record, but, again, this story makes no fucking sense. Job’s super devout, and God’s blessed him. Satan walks up to God and says “Dude, he’s only devout because you gave him shit. Let me take his shit, and you’ll see how devout he really is.” And God says “Ok, sure, but you can’t kill him.”

So Satan just absolutely shits on Job. He gives Job boils, he kills his family, he financially ruins him, and through it all, Job refuses to reject God, so Satan is forced to concede, and God’s like “Haha, told you. Now, Job, how’d you like a new wife?”

This is the one story I’m aware of where Satan is legitimately just screwing with a guy and not trying to help him.

And Satan’s There, Too!

Satan next appears in Zechariah, in, like, a vision, and he’s just sort of there? This is another “The Satan” thing, where Satan is an angel of God whose purpose is to test humans. He doesn’t really do anything, he just gets mentioned as being there.

Then there’s a mention of Lucifer in Isaiah, and, literally, it’s just a reference. He’s not even there, it’s just a throwaway line saying “Lucifer was cast out of Heaven.”

Satan Asks Jesus Out to Some Beers

The last three mentions of Lucifer in the Bible occur in the New Testament, two of them are just Lucifer tempting Jesus.

Mark just mentions that Satan tempted Jesus.

Luke actually describes the temptation. So, Jesus goes out into the desert and fasts for forty days. Lucifer shows up and says “dude, you’re the son of God, just turn this stone into some bread, and have something to eat.” Jesus rebukes him in a “completely missing the goddamned point” way. So Lucifer takes him up to a mountain and says, “Look, dude, come with me, and can rule over everything you see here. It’s all mine, and it’s mine to give to who I choose. Just worship me.” And Jesus rebukes him. So Lucifer takes Jesus up to the top of a temple and says “God gave the angels to you, they’ll protect you, jump off and they’ll catch you.” And Jesus rebukes him again, and Lucifer disappears in a poof of exasperation.

Now, what’s the purpose of this? Well, there’s the standard Christian reading that Satan is trying to lure Jesus away from serving God’s plan because he’s EVIL and his SOLE PURPOSE IS TO OPPOSE GOOD AND THAT’S GOD. But... Ok, so Jesus is the son of God, he’s divine, and, it’s reasonable to assume that he can’t die unless God allows it, because it’s part of God’s plan for him to die in a specific context. So.... why does he fast for forty days? It’s not like he can starve, and he’s divine, so it’s not like he can suffer the pangs of hunger, unless he chooses to, so... is there any meaning in his fasting? I argue not. It’s exactly as meaningless as the act of turning a stone to bread and having a bite.

Then, there’s the second temptation. If we assume that Jesus is benevolent, and divine, and I argue, even as a Satanist, that Jesus is benevolent. I also believe that Lucifer is benevolent and the creator god is the standout as the not-benevolent one in the game. But I expect Christians believe that Satan is evil and Jesus good. Therefore, in Luke 4, Satan says “this world is mine, to give to they who I see fit.” And Jesus refuses to even pay lip service. Despite the fact Jesus ruling the world would presumably be better for people than a world rules by Satan. And Satan is offering that, maybe as a fuck you to God, but he is freely offering up his temporal power to someone who would make the world a better place.

The final temptation, I would argue, is Satan trying to free Jesus from God’s plan that demands he suffer torture and death. He’s trying to show Jesus “you have power of your own, you don’t have to subject yourself to this plan that ends in your death.”

If we interrogate the narrative from it’s own perspective, then Jesus is both God and human, and Satan is appealing to him as a human, saying “you’re a god, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to die.”

Luke 22 is the last mention of Satan in the Bible, and it just says that Satan entered Judas (not in a sexy way), and Judas went out to talk to the pharisees about how he could betray Jesus. But...well, ok, literally the line is-

3 Then entered Satan into Judas surnamed Iscariot, being of the number of the twelve.

4 And he went his way, and communed with the chief priests and captains, how he might betray him unto them.

Like... it makes me think that a lot of the time, when Satan is mentioned in the Bible, they don’t mean a literal figure named Satan, and they’re using the name poetically to refer to people working against God or Jesus. Because... Jesus’ death is foreordained. It’s part of God’s plan, so why would Satan be involved in Judas’ betrayal of Jesus? Unless this is going back to the Judaic idea of Satan as an angel of God who acts as an adversary of humanity, in which case, Satan is acting on God’s orders to make Judas betray Jesus.

To Infinity and Beyond

So, that’s the extent to which Satan is mentioned in the Bible in anyway, either as a figure never called Satan but often conflated with him, to The Adversary, to Lucifer.

After that, you have to look at folk lore and media, and this is simultaneously difficult, because pretty much anyone can make a story up and it can get traction, and actually kind of easy in this particular case, because... most folk lore is one a single track when it comes to Satan.

Most folk lore involving Lucifer/Satan/whatever you want to call him-

I hear he misses the old names, so, special shoutout to “Little Horn”

-involves a human who wants something, and Satan showing up to give it to them for their soul.

And this comes to a realization I made last year- In these stories, if you take the Christian worldview, Satan is actually... giving these things away for free, not for people’s souls.

I’m pretty sure I talked about this on this tumblr, but I’ll go through it so you don’t have to hunt it down.

In Christianity, your soul is not yours, it belongs to God, so you can’t actually give it away or “sell” it

However, to do so, if your could, would be a sin

In Christianity, or at least Catholicism, conceiving of a sin with full intent to commit it is the same as committing the sin.

Therefore, even if you can’t, technically, “sell your soul to the devil,” if you decide to do so, you have immediately sinned, and in fact, you have committed pretty much the biggest sin there is in Christianity, Apostasy, one which cannot be forgiven by any temporal power, and the forgiveness of is the sole domain of God himself.

ie, If you commit Apostasy, you are immediately condemned to Hell, unless God himself intervenes. If you decide to sell your soul to Satan, you have already committed apostasy, even though that’s not a thing you can actually do.

Thus, when a person resolves to trade their soul for something, they are immediately condemned, their soul already destined for Hell, simply for deciding they would give it to Satan instead of trusting in God. Satan should obviously know how this works, he should be aware that a person just deciding to trade their soul is sufficient, and Satan has no reason to actually give the person anything.

So, given that, here’s what happens- A person wants something, they want it so badly, they decide to sell their soul to Satan for it. Satan is fully aware that at that moment the person’s soul is already his. But then he goes and gives them what they want.

The only possible way to interpret that is that Satan literally wants to help people.

But What About Hell?

So, how does one suppose that Satan just wants to help people if those people are still condemned to Hell for accepting his help?

Well, again, we’re going to go back to my background of having been raised Catholic.

In the Catholic tradition, Hell is not a place of fiery torment, it is not a place where demons break out the medieval torture shit and rend your soul. The torment of Hell, in the Catholic tradition, comes from the fact that God is absent. The Catholic tradition believes that Hell is painful because God’s presence is not there, that those who are in Hell are cut off from God.

Obviously, Catholics believe a lot of stuff is the natural consequence of this, they probably believe that without the presence of God, people are more malevolent in Hell, and so there are probably plenty of “mundane” torments there in addition.

However, I believe that the presence of God is not a perceivable thing. If it were, there should not be any atheists, or even non-Catholics. If you could perceive the presence of God, then why would you ever not believe in that God? Therefore, Hell should not feel any particularly different from life on Earth. But even if it does, that is, even if the absence of God is apparently despite his presence not being so, I contend that the human spirit can become accustomed to anything.

Therefore... Hell is not a place of torment, especially for the sinful who reject God in the first place.

Aside: Is God’s Presence Desirable?

If we look at the figure of God from the Bible, I contend that God is worthy of nothing but contempt and hatred.

God is said to have created the universe and all life in it--so that it might adore and adulate him.

God is, supposedly, Omniscient, Omnipotent, and Omnibenevolent (The Three Omnis). But he created a world of pain and suffering, and not all of that is the consequence of free will on the part of the person who suffers. You can argue that pain and suffering is a consequence of people choosing to do evil, but that does not explain the presence of suffering innocents. An omniscient being would know that free will would result in some people choosing to harm innocent children. An omnibenevolent being would wish to prevent that. An omnipotent being, creating a world ex nihilo, could create a world where the natural consequence of trying to harm a child prevents or punishes that attempt. It would not affect free will to create a world where trying to hurt a child caused the would-be perpetrator to burst into flames or have an immediate heart attack--just like it does not infringe on free will that we as humans cannot naturally fly and the natural consequence of jumping off a cliff trying to do so is to fall. It would not affect free will to create a world where children are immune to harm. God created a world where children can be harmed, and he chose to do so, knowing it would happen.

God paid disobedience with exile and painful death--when he would logically know that it would happen to begin with, due to his omniscience.

God looked at his “children” and murdered them in droves for disobedience.

In fact, God killed around 25 million people in the Bible, and that’s only counting adult men. Satan is responsible for about 10 specified deaths in the Bible (Job’s seven sons and three daughters), but the number of Job’s servants aren’t given, and they were slain at his prompting as well. But Job likely wouldn’t have had more than a few hundred servants, and even if he had ten times that number, even if he had 10,000 servants, God is responsible for at least 2,500 times as many, in adult men alone.

Altogether, the Bible itself paints an image of God as an abusive, selfish authoritarian who throws his “children” away in a fit of pique, or boredom, or to win a bet. Is this a figure deserving of worship? Of adoration? Of love? Christians seem to believe yes, believing that their creation at his whim is all that is needed to earn such. It is the position of an abused child who loves their toxic parent simply because of their relation, and despite their abuses.

An Image of Satan

So, on the other hand, we have this figure who staged a rebellion against a heavenly authority, who rules over a land eternal where the only torment is the absence of his foe, who we have already examined and found to be an abusive authoritarian.

A figure who has killed not even 1% of the people this authoritarian did, and who freely gives what is needed to those who, essentially, pledge themselves to his domain.

A Matter of Interpretation

In the end, it comes down to interpretation and belief, since we actually don’t have any kind of primary source on, well, anything to do with the Bible, or religion in general, to be honest. Personally, I think that if you’re looking at the Bible as any kind of authoritative source, then this is the only possible honest conclusion. If you believe that God is any way not reprehensibly abusive, then you can’t view the Bible as any kind of authoritative source, at least as regards God.

I’m a Satanist, so of course I’m given to a more sympathetic view of Satan, but given that there is no particular authoritative source for Lucifer (even the Bible would have been written by his enemy), the character of Satan can only really be inferred from non-authoritative sources, and interestingly, whatever a person says about their enemy, those statements are incredibly revealing of the speaker, as well.

I don’t, necessarily, believe that all Christians follow such a reprehensible creed, I don’t even think all Christians who view the Bible as, if you’ll pardon the pun, gospel, do. But I think a lot of Christians do not take any time to honestly evaluate the Bible and what it says about their God.

#God #Satan #Religion #Christianity #Satanism #Lucifer #The Devil

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mmikmmik2 · 3 years

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First impressions of episodes five and six under the readmore

The Astro Queue Car

LMFAOOOOOO at Min-Gi jumping from polite and rule-abiding The Nice One to being a smug asshole. I'm so proud of him. Passive-aggressive-ing his little heart out.

PASSIVE AGGRESSION IS AN EXTREME SPORT AND MIN-GI IS WINNING.

But yeah, jokes aside, obviously Min-Gi should be treating Ryan better. I'm definitely interpreting this a lot as Min-Gi acting in perceived emotional self defense but there's probably also some malicious "SEE, YOU WERE WRONG TO GO ON WITHOUT ME" revenge here.

I saw several other people speculating that Ryan might like the train, and I definitely thought that was plausible too, but Min-Gi almost seemed to like in this episode getting to just hang out with Ryan and be superior the whole time. But I also definitely think his anger that (as he saw it, or wanted to believe he saw it) Ryan wasn't learning lessons was legitimate. Feel like both of the guys both have a lot of paradoxical simultaneously contradictory emotions going on and both keep failing to reach the core of their issues with themselves and with each other - it feels believable that they keep ping-ponging back to 202.

LOVED the moment where they realized the astronauts are all dead. Very visually cool and creepy, and I loved Min-Gi's realization that standing still could be just as much of a mistake as making the wrong move.

Love the continuing theme of like... rushing ahead alone, and refusing to follow, can both be forms of abandonment

When the lobby of the party tower got weird and I recognized it as the moment in the trailer when the Steward appeared, I legitimately started saying "YESSSS. YESSSS," over and over again out loud. I fucking love the Steward. And Kez freezing? Is that because she's a denizen? Oh my god. I hate seeing denizens harmed but I love when they have vulnerabilities because they're artificial beings (like Atticus being turned into a ghom - we have no definitive proof but I can't imagine Amelia could do that to a human - it feels obvious to me that the orbs could only be used to "reprogram" beings that were created by those orbs in the first place). Listen, seasons two and three spoiled me with existential horror and weirdness, but apart from /maybe/ Lake hitting the invisible walls in The Wasteland they never had any "REALITY IS RIPPING APART AT THE SEAMS" horror moments the way season one did (the sun spasming in the corgi car as the Steward put its claws into that miniature world's guts? the sky behind the sky in the unfinished car? Atticus's transformation? the half-finished world being built within the engine? so good, so juicy) and I am so, so hopeful we're gonna see the Steward bring some of that tastiness this season.

The Party Car

THIS EPISODE WAS SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD

FAVORITE OF THE SEASON SO FAR

Like it delivered on multiple levels

LOVE the development for the guys, love that Ryan tried to hide the Chicken Choice Judy shirt (looks like that logo is also one of the stickers on his guitar case? but the sticker isn't nearly as big a sign of vulnerability as keeping a shirt that's too small for him to wear just because Min-Gi made it for him) and Min-Gi tried to downplay his stylophone.

I really like that Min-Gi explicitly talked about anti-Asian bias and how he was worried they'd hit a glass ceiling (if that's the right phrase to use here?) even if they were relatively successful as musicians. I was expecting this season to make an effort to build on Ryan and Min-Gi's race as part of their characters, because I've gotten the impression the writers of InfTrain do care about doing that kind of thing right, but I assumed it would stay on the level of subtext and minor incidents like Min-Gi's manager mispronouncing his name. I'm glad the show got to go there and have a character talk about racism and how it affects him.

Loved that they repeated the part with Ryan on-stage waiting for Min-Gi, but this time Ryan didn't leave while Min-Gi stayed, they had a reassuring talk between the two of them where they came to understand each other better. I /love/ when InfTrain has moments like that, where characters redo a persistent narrative/theme in their life but change the ending.

Really though I felt so fucking bad for Ryan, I was like hearing the audio from the "You can pinpoint the second when his heart rips in half" meme when he was up on stage and realized Min-Gi wasn't coming, /again/

Really liked Kez being pigeonholed as "the funny one"/"the fuckup" in her friend group. Feels like a major theme this season is characters being afraid of being perceived as failures and trying to control what other people think of them.

Almost teared up at the final moment of Min-Gi inviting Kez to join the private party in the bathroom and him and Ryan quietly, comfortably jamming together. I'm gonna cry I love them all so much

LOOOOOOVED THE TRAIN LORE THIS EPISODE

I loved getting to see a mixed denizen friend group apparently roaming the car looking for parties, that was so juicy

THE FUCKING BOOTS ARE FOR CONTROLLING PASSENGERS? THEY'RE RESTRAINING BOLTS TO GLUE THEIR FEET TO THE FLOOR WHILE THE STEWARD IS TALKING TO THEM? THAT'S HORRIBLE AND I LOVE IT!!!!

So it looks like the jumpsuits and boots DID used to be standard issue for passengers, and Amelia just got her stuff back at some point between boarding and when we saw her in the season premiere! One wtf that sucks!!!

I love that there's this creepy procedure for the Steward to like deliver messages from on high, I love how weird and disturbing it was, I love that Kez iirc said something along the lines of being used to that (i.e. her getting frozen) happening sometimes HOW OFTEN DOES THAT HAPPEN? WHY ARE YOU LIKE THAT, ONE?

So, the Steward seemed to have been traveling through the train issuing that message to all passengers? I think that was implied in One's broadcast? So interesting, I wonder how many other changes in procedure have been implemented that way. My first impression was that One was using it to broadcast from a different car, but I guess it wasn't explicitly clear if he was using the Steward like a remote speaker or if he was behind that mask the whole time and just didn't feel the need to flip it up to address the guys more directly.

There was a moment where the Steward paused and there was muffled dialogue but I couldn't hear it at all... I don't have closed captions turned on right now (if they'll even work if I do turn them on, I cannot emphasize enough what a piece of shit the HBO Max website is)... my first thought was that One backed away from the "mic" while he and Amelia were talking (it would make sense if this change in procedure were something Amelia talked him into somehow?) but maybe that was his two personalities murmuring to each other? Hm.

#infinity train spoilers

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cxmetery-gates · 3 years

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OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER FIVE: COFFEE AND TINDER

SUMMARY: Lynn and Gabriel have a heart-to-heart talk about her last lover, with Gabe offering barely-legal suggestions. WORD COUNT: 2.45k NOTES: Gabe is probably my favorite character WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston, mentions of past relationships, break-up talk, h*tler reference?? never thought i’d write that

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

THE SOUND OF A BELL alerts the classroom that the period is over. Everyone had been already packed and ready to go minutes before Mr. Hiddleston even began wrapping up his lesson. Even when I suffered through chemistry or dragged my deflated soul through finance, I never thought of putting my notes and pens away so soon. I know more than one student saw the icy glare I sent across the room but, most importantly and unfortunately, I also know nearly all of them didn't catch the slight disappointment in Mr. Hiddleston's tone.

I truly despise most people.

From the moment class started, it's been so unmistakably clear how much he loves what he teaches, that he enjoys what he spent thousands of dollars on just to show people how great literature is. I understand that all too well— save the going into debt part. Teachers are often times so mundane with their knowledge, not realizing how the way they present the information affects our understanding and interest in such. This is why high school teachers are stereotyped as people who just want a paid summer vacation. However, Mr. Hiddleston really put effort into his theatrics, like his lecture was a play. People with a teaching degree should teach in this way— why else go penniless willingly? The overall excitement was entertaining. And for that, I have to give the man some credit.

"Alright, guys. We'll be diving into the second part of this lecture tomorrow. Have a good one, you are dismissed." I don't think Mr. Hiddleston needed to announce the last blip of his closing statement. As I said, people are so rude.

Ellie begins to shove her notepad and other items into her bag after our teacher finishes speaking, reminding me of my kind company. I, on the other hand, am scrambling to take the last bit of notes, trying to relay any possible concepts mentioned on to paper. While there might not have been much depth in today's class, jotting down every last tidbit of information could be life or death. Or perhaps I'm just anal-retentive when it comes to note-taking. By the time I finish the note, Ellie is already standing.

"Girl, hurry up. We gotta go!" She drags out the last vowel of the last word humorously.

I wave my hand at her, flipping pages and dodging paper cuts. "Go on without me. I'll be fine," I say, remembering that Ellie's homeroom is on the first floor and the farthest down the hall.

Rolling her big brown eyes, she sighs, walking backward. "I'll miss you poppet. I love you." Her fake British accent is terrible, but I don't bother enlightening her. Perhaps the slight discoloration in her cheeks and how fast she dashed out of the room was due to finding Mr. Hiddleston in ear-shot of her terrible accent. I bite my lip, forcing myself to look away out of sheer second-hand embarrassment.

Once all my belongings are together, I turn to leave.

"That truly was an awful mockery," Mr. Hiddleston says in my direction from the whiteboard. His long toned arms wipe the marker away as I begin to walk past him.

I chuckle. "I'll let her know you said that."

Mr. Hiddleston fakes a groan, placing the eraser on the marker tray then turning to face me with those oh-so-charming eyes. There's no other way to describe them other than mesmerizing. "Oh, don't tell her I said it. I like being liked."

"Being 'liked' is the least of your worries with these girls," I mumble, mostly to humor myself. However, I must have been louder than anticipated. The innuendo is heard and doesn't fly over his head.

A titter of a laugh is heard from the man, and I now regret the words I mumbled. "So I have been told," he replies, making a slightly uncomfortable face. I can't blame him; anyone would feel incredibly awkward if teaching a class full of people who would sell both kidneys just to see them without a shirt.

Not in my dreams would I have imagined having a conversation with Mr. Hiddleston about how everyone wants to nail him. While such a phrase hasn't been explicitly noted, I have a feeling both our minds are in the same gutter. And with that recognition, an awkward heat embraces me. I press my lips together tightly and offer a shrug. "I think the proper thing for me to say is good luck."

Seeming to take my word, Mr. Hiddleston passes me a smile. I can't read what the meaning is, but I'll take it nonetheless with a cough to clear my throat. "Ah, well, as much as I love juicy gossip and scandals, I've got a stuck up prune for homeroom, so I definitely need to get going." I send him a wave, making my exit as awkward as possible.

"Warntz?" He asks.

My nose wrinkles at the name. It eve sounds terrible, almost as terrifying as Trunchbull or Umbridge. "You betcha."

"Good luck, Lynn. You've got two minutes."

I want to give another sassy remark, but the teasing look I find when I look over my shoulder sends my body into another blush. Muttering something close to 'whatever,' I decide that leaving is for the best, even if that means awaiting an angry, shriveled up raisin.

══════════════════

Exiting the high school front doors a few hours before the final bell is like the biggest sigh of relief and 'sucks to be you' to everyone else. An arm wraps around my shoulder, one I embrace kindly.

"So, we've got an hour on our hands," Gabriel reminds me, hinting we'll have to come back to grab Ellie and River. As he speaks, I toss my head back on his toned bicep. I swear he works out too much for an unpopular loser. "What would you like to do?"

I groan, dragging my chin down to my chest. "Why do I have to decide? You know I hate making decisions."

"We're taking second lunch here, Lynn. It isn't life or death, you weirdo," Gabe chortles.

"Can we just go get a coffee? I feel like I'm about to pass out." For effect, I pretend to faint, nearly going complete limp before his arms can hoist me back up.

Rolling his dark eyes, my partner in crime pulls a set of keys from his pocket, swinging the lanyard around his fingers while we head towards a tattered white truck being held together by zip ties, duct tape, and love. "You and Elle with your coffee addiction."

"Could be meth," I retort.

Snorting, Gabe slips a key into the slit on the driver's side. I stand on the opposite, sending a humored smile. "Yeah, as if that's any worse."

We make it to the local coffee shop in no time. Luckily for us, the lunch rush hour in this town ends just as we hit the road if we avoid the main highways that is. Gabe's truck and the coffee shop have a similar aesthetic: crowded, old, falling apart with an overwhelming sense of home and personality. I can't count how many times I've broken down and received well off advice from him in both locations. It feels safe here and being around him. Gabe's like the much older brother (by a month) that I never had. We're both complete, utter assholes to each other about 60% of the time, enforcing the sibling-like bond we have.

"Thank you," I say sweetly to the barista as he places my cold brew in front of me and Gabe's hot chocolate in front of him. Mimicking my gratitude, Gabe gives his thanks as the employee shuffled away, awkwardly patting at his frizzy hair.

We both take a sip and visibly relax. "So, the first day of our last year of high school." Gabe is also the mom friend. "Tell me, dear, how were all your classes?"

"Oh, dearest mother, I feel so content with my choices," I reply with a vintage accent, acting as though my voiced popped in from the 1920s. "How ever will I pick a favorite?"

Wiggling his brows, Gabe replies, "I hear someone landed themselves in the hottest teacher's class."

Prompting to return to my normal voice, I roll my eyes, a huff expelling from my diaphragm. "He's definitely a piece of eye candy, I'll tell you that."

"Took four years to figure that one out? I didn't realize unobservant you are." Taking a pause, Gabe brings to smirk widely. "Maybe that's why you haven't asked River out yet."

My eyes grow wide, my skin goes red. Looking at anywhere other than Gabe's eyes and smirking lips is a must. "I don't know—"

"Lynn, everyone knows."

"Sure, but he doesn't." I pause. "Wait, does he?"

"Dude, no, of course, he doesn't. He still thinks you're heartbroken over Trinity."

Ah, yes, Trinity. Who knew a happy year and two months could be wholly demolished beyond reconciliation in a single weekend? Certain not I, as I have spent the past three months moving on and over the ordeal. An annoyed grunt leads my cheek to rest in my fist. "He thinks I'm not over it?"

Gabe leans forwards. "None of us do, Lynn."

I stay silent.

"What happened... you didn't deserve that. Hell, Hitler wouldn't have deserved that. Probably."

"Weeeeell—"

"Point is, I know you're still trying to find a way to heal. You've done a damn good job, duh. But River thinks you're still in love with her."

"Ugh. I'd rather eat hairy horse shit than see her ever again."

Gabriel nods, "I was hoping that would be the case."

Knocking my knuckles on the wooden table, I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Man, I'm tired."

"You know we're all here for you, right?" Gabe asks, leaning in just a few inches. I want to roll my eyes, tell him that he worries too much, but I can't. I can't tell him, not because I want him to shut up or to change the topic, but because he knows me. To Gabe, I'm an open book.

I run out of words to say relating to the topic. The breakup is old news, everything following the incident becoming irrelevant memories and irreplaceable time. I'm kidding myself when I say I've moved on entirely because Gabriel is right: I haven't. Sometimes my thoughts get stuck on what I could have done better or what I should have done to convince her to stay. Despite these annoying blips, I know deep down that it was inevitable, that her consistent cheating and the emotional manipulation would only surface for everyone to see in due time. If they hadn't— which I tried to keep from happening— I have a gut-wrenching feeling I'd still be in the situation. I had a feeling Trinity and me wouldn't last, but it wasn't until after things ended did I realize how well she had me wrapped around her finger. It's taken months to find my way out of her web, but I now face the scary journey of recovery. Thankfully, the process has not been as hard as I anticipated. After all, living two cities away certainly helps.

"Yeah, I know. I'm still going through the motions. I just want it to speed up, you know?"

Smirking and pulling his hand back, Gabriel replies, "Maybe a Tinder will help?"

My nose wrinkles at the mere consideration. Hooking up, dating apps, meeting strangers behind a phone— not really my thing. "Nah, I'll pass on that offer, thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"Hmm, maybe I'll look into a sugar daddy site. Money from older men might make me feel a bit better."

Gabriel takes a sip of his hot chocolate, grinning. "Well, you have an interesting way with teachers. If you're struggling in a particular class, maybe that little fantasy of yours will come true."

"Oh yes, I can't wait to hop on Mr. Riley's seventy-year-old dick."

"Mhmm, yummy."

At this, I bark into a laughing-while-painfully-cringing fit. Never being a fan of the phrase "yummy" and having it tied to a man that's so old he's basically decaying, I find every part of this new conversation revoltingly hilarious. I guess my sudden outburst of laughter caught Gabe off guard, staring at me with a shocked grin and fixing the infamous beanie he wears. I couldn't count how many times I've seen him without; you can't count to zero.

"It really wasn't that funny," he says with a small hiccup of laughter in his voice.

I settle myself now that I feel the eyes of everyone in the coffee shop staring. "You're right, but something about it made me crack." I flip my phone over to check the time. "Should we be getting back? They've got twenty minutes left."

Gabe nods and lets out a content sigh. "Yeah, I guess so."

We decide to chug the rest of our beverages quickly— now room temperature and not as satisfying— before heading back out into the world. Away in the parking lot, the truck seems to beckon us to its forty-year-old, duct-tape-bound seats. As Gabe unlocks the truck doors, I let out a content sign and stare up at the sky. Above, the sun beams down on us and, like an idiot, I managed to look directly into it. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust but by that point, a dark cloud rolled over the blinding, distant star.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

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