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honeylikewords · 1 year

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cubs. (jack russell)

halloween brings all the little monsters out. aka, jack gets baby fever.

(warnings: mentions of pregnancy, planning for children, allusions to sex, descriptions of physical intimacy and making out, and jack smelling his wife, if that counts. nothing technically fully n/s/f//w//, but a bit saucy. word count 2.4k )

Jack’s head tilts sideways before the doorbell even rings, one ear higher than the other to catch something she can’t hear. He turns in his seat on the couch, arm strewn over her shoulder, to look behind them in the direction of the front door, tilts over, kisses her temple, and pops up in the seconds before the slightly-jarring “ding” echoes through the house. He’s already at the door, bowl in hand, beaming down at the gaggle of children and chaperones by the time she’s even stirring on the couch to come to join him.

“Oh, who do we have here?,” Jack coos excitedly, scanning the miniature crowd. “Are you the little one from--”

“Stranger Things!,” yells a small child in a pink dress, blonde wig askew, tendrils of the plastic hair stuck to their face. “I’m Eleven!”

“Yes, sí, can you do the--” --Jack sticks his hand out and makes a face, and the child eagerly matches him, giving him their best furious expression and most powerful psychokinetic pose-- “Yes! That’s so good!”

He quickly glances up at the three adults standing behind and asks if there are any allergies in the group (and there are none, thank goodness) as his wife comes to stand next to him, smiling at the Eleven who is now turning their powers onto their group of friends. Gesturing for the kids to bring their bags closer, Jack begins dropping generous fistfuls of candy into eagerly opened pillowcases and treat sacks, small hands darting out to show off the newest snacks to one another.

“Hey there, Mirabel,” says Mrs. Russell, waving at a young girl in a blue skirt and white t-shirt, sporting a giant pair of glasses and a pink flower in her dense curls. The little one is wrapped up in a purple puffer jacket on this cold October evening, and while it is a truth universally acknowledged that a big coat is the bane of Halloween costumes, the effect of her adorable smile and ‘Encanto’ printed trick-or-treat bag is more than enough to convey the essence of the character. “Is Uncle Bruno with you tonight?”

The girl shyly shakes her head and wrings the handles of her bag in her fingers but is smiling widely when Jack speaks a few quick words of admiration for her costume in Spanish and passes her a scoop of candy for her bag.

“I’m Ariel!”, adds a small child in a green tube skirt with flared tulle flippers sewn on, a purple strip of cloth tied around their tummy over a slightly off-skin-tone longsleeve tee.

“And I’m Harry Potter!” A wand is brandished at Jack, who puts a hand over his chest in shock.

“I’m Batman!” The petite hero jumps into a pose to show off the padding of his armor, his light-up shoes kicking to life and casting green flashes over the porch.

Jack turns to his wife and grins, gesturing enthusiastically at the crowd of kids. “I think these are the best costumes we’ve seen all night, no?” She nods, and the kids all let out little shrieks and giggles as Jack procures a few extra pieces from the bowl and adds them to their bags.

The chaperones guide the straggling children into a chorus of “thank you”s before shuffling them down from the porch, past the jack o’lanterns, and on to the next house, as Jack and his wife remain in the doorway. She leans her head on his shoulder and listens to him sigh sweetly, his eyes tracing over the sunset-lit streets swarming with seas of children and their families, all screaming and laughing over one another, racing past on the sidewalks, weaving in and out of lawns decorated with tombstones and inflatable specters, plastic skeletons and felted spiders.

“You know, at the rate you hand it out, we’ll be out of candy before the street lights come on,” she teases, nudging his shoulder. Jack chuckles and puts a hand on the small of her back, shrugging as he steers her back towards the couch.

“It’s Halloween, bebé; do you want us to be known as the stingy old couple, or the cool couple that gives out extra candy to the little monsters? Besides, that Mirabel, oh my God--”

“Total heart-melter,” she agrees, sitting and cuddling into Jack’s side as he hooks his arm back over her shoulders and pulls her body close. “I think between her and that four-month-old dressed as Grogu, we may have seen the two cutest costumes in all of North America today.”

Jack lets out a groan at the memory of the adorable baby, who he had greeted at the door with a delighted peal of laughter, and squeezes his wife tightly in his arms, as if hugging her in the baby’s stead. The abrupt squish pushes a small squeak out of her, and Jack giggles, bumping the blunt tip of his long nose into her cheek.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “You okay?”

His slight frame conceals a rather intense strength, something that comforts her, even if it still sneaks up on her every now and again that he is, in fact, as strong as he is; Jack’s touch is grounding and warm when so few things in the world are, and she’s glad, especially in the cold months, for the over-active heat of his body and the power of his embrace.

He traces the tips of his broad, tan fingers along the curve of her upper arm, pale nails leaving wake trails of gooseflesh and pleasant shivers. She realizes he’s waiting for a response before going any further with his affections, and she nods, cupping the square of his chin and running her thumb along his bottom lip. When his olive green eyes fix on hers, and his lips part to reveal the brightness of his smile, crooked to the left by the jut of his snaggletooth, she feels heat wash over her face and down her body, familiar and fluttering as he dips his face close and keeps her gaze.

“You know what I’m thinking?,” Jack purrs, voice dropping low and soft as he begins inching nearer. When he’s this close, his breath falls on her skin like a warm fog, sticking sweetly to her neck and cheeks, and the scent of him gets stronger.

He smells like their bed, she thinks. Cozy, fuzzy, and tinged with a modicum of not-at-all-unappealing sweat, there is also that distinct canine note that can only be detected in this kind of proximity. His arms are still wrapped around her, and one of his hands is coasting, flat-palmed, up and down the length of her side, following the curves of her ribs and belly, while the other finds itself resting on her shoulder, idly fingering an errant lock of hair. His face is so close to hers that she swears she could count each of his eyelashes, individually, and the hairs that form his growing stubble.

This Halloween, Jack has chosen to go as a vampire, which he thinks is exceedingly funny. Dark makeup rings his eyes and the grey in his hair glows almost blue in the low light of the fading day, lending him an unearthly quality that fits his costume well. The powers of the vampire, too, seem to be his: he has her under his thrall, certainly. His smile is mesmeric, and she can imagine that if a vampire were to look like him, there would be no end to the line of people willing to be bitten by that self-same smile.

“What are you thinking, Puppy?,” she asks, trying to redirect her own wandering thoughts. She scratches lightly at the underside of his chin and, on reflex, his head tilts up, eyes fluttering shut as a contented noise rumbles in the back of his throat. He’s so easy to please.

“I’m, uh--” He seems distracted by the sensation of her scratching at that Just Right spot between the back of his ear and the crook of his jaw, a distraction that only worsens when she begins scratching the hair at the nape of his neck. “I was going to say that I… I was thinking we…”

His hands lie still on her, twitching every now and then when she finds a particularly pleasing spot to scratch, and she relishes the sensation of being the one who now has her beloved under her own thrall; Jack leans his head into her touch and follows the motion of her hands, chasing her attentions. A sigh leaves his lips and he unclenches his shoulders, melting into her as she leans back against the armrest of the couch and Jack follows, laying his head on her chest.

His weight is surprisingly heavy atop her as he lays himself on her belly, slotting between her knees and positioning himself for ease of scritching. He’s not a big man, by any means, but there’s a density to him, and she’s feeling it now as he presses her into the couch with his body.

She pauses her petting briefly as she adjusts to the new position, and her hands still in his hair, which causes a growl of displeasure to part his lips. At that, she looks down at him and sees one green eye peering up at her (the other still shut and squished into her chest), and sticks her tongue out at him before continuing the strokes to his salt-and-pepper pelt.

It’s rather soothing, playing with his hair like this. There’s a therapeutic element to the combination of his body weight, intense warmth, rhythmic breathing, and the texture of his hair under her fingers, and she lets instinct carry her, as salient thought drifts away into the blissful mist of repetitive motion and familiar feelings. She traces the lines of his scalp, watching his black and grey and still, sometimes, brown hair forest up around her fingers, content to just match the tide of his breaths with her own, their ribs pressed together and expanding in synchronicity.

After a moment, Jack stirs. Turning, he cranes his face so that he can look at her squarely, and she feels the irresistible magnetism of that green gaze tugging her deeper into his spell.

“I want to try for one of our own,” he says, shattering the stillness like a foul ball through plate glass. “Tonight, if you’re ready.”

It takes her a second to blink away the haze that had settled around her head, and when she does at last manage to, she finds herself staring down into Jack’s face, taking him in with utmost fascination. If she heard him clearly, and she believes she did, he asked her--

“A baby, by the way. In case I wasn’t clear.” He flashes her a smile and a breathy laugh, and he pats her side playfully. “I’m sure you could figure that out, amorcita, but I like to be direct.”

“Oh.”

It’s all she can think to say: not because she is unhappy, or undesiring of the same things, but simply because the effect of Jack Russell, staring up at her with his big, moss-colored puppy eyes, brazenly stating that he wants to try and conceive with her, is flooring. He pushes up on his forearms, and suddenly he is above her, his face lit starkly by the shadows of the setting sun and the television, marking him out in black and white. His eyes glow, even in the darkness.

The wolf’s smile slips into his features as he stares down at her, watching her reactions with delight. He can hear her heartbeat, she knows, smells the minute shifts that not even she is aware of. He knows her, inside and out, and surely knows which way she is swayed, but he waits patiently for her to give him a sign, a command, an enthusiastic yes or a firm no. He won’t move without her urging.

She cups his face and lets out a shaky, excited breath, one that shivers in her sternum and makes Jack grin. There’s that crooked canine of his, sharply glinting in his smile, and she trembles joyfully at the sight, wondering if their child would have their father’s snaggletooth. She hopes they do.

“Tonight,” she repeats. Jack’s eyes widen.

Gently, she tugs him down and presses his pouty lips to hers, and the dam breaks. Jack lets out an inhuman groan of delight, dropping his center of gravity low to lean into the kiss, and uses his blunt incisors to pull at her bottom lip, nipping and sending the wet, lapping sounds of kissing echoing through the room. He uses one hand to hold her jaw in place, then begins trailing kisses down and around her chin, working his way to her throat.

“Look so pretty in your costume,” he rasps, voice low and clouded. “‘S hard for a man to keep his hands to himself.”

Before she can snidely remark that he, in fact, has not been keeping his hands to himself for almost the entirety of the evening, Jack sinks his teeth into her neck: not hard enough to wound her, but certainly hard enough to make her forget every other thought, her mind now focused completely on the reality that her husband is leaving marks all across her throat.

“You smell,” Jack groans, “So good. And, oh, God, when you have our cubs…”

He pushes his face into the crook of her neck and inhales, a series of Spanish and English curses flowing from his lips as they wander across her skin, and his hands begin rucking up the bottom of her blouse when--

“DING.”

Jack’s head whips up, and the two of them stare with wide eyes at one another. His face is flushed a deep umber and his lips are shiny, hair a fluffed mess, and she can only imagine she looks even more sordid and knocked askew. They exchange a communicative glance before the doorbell rings a second time and Jack, ever the gentleman, kisses her forehead, rapidly apologizing.

“We’ll get back to this, querida, I promise, I swear, I want to--”

She waves him off with a smile, and sees him bolt for the door, candy bowl in hand. He throws it open with gusto, and as she watches, she sees the transformation come over him; the brightness in his eyes, the giddiness of his smile, the sincerity of his sweetness. He’s going to make a magnificent father. And she’s going to have a very, very happy Halloween.

#werewolf by night #jack russell #jack russell x reader #wwbn #wbn #marvel #(i also see people spell his name as:)#jack russel #jack russel x reader #i cant believe it a FIC and it's a slightly RISQUE one! (this is not permission for people to send me n...s....f.......w by the way)#i just am like. in a weird state and i thought married!jack and his spouse getting to do fun halloween kissing and having baby fever would #be cute and nice ghdkhgkalhgdkhg #original #it's a little short for me (i usually like to go about 5k or more?) but this is just a Test Run #if you guys want more jack lmk and i'll hopefully be doing other jack stuff for myself so :3 anyway its 3 am now gnight

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defiledtomb · 1 year

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Ouroboros is updated! FORUM POST || PLAY DEMO HERE

In this update:

- Fuck around, find out (New intro-path)

- Fuck (A full flashback chapter with L)

- oh, fuck. (Meet Lena and hear her out)

I am sorry that my progress has been so hidden and so angsty. I promise that I am trying my best, and man, I will never get used to being so public about it. Thank you, dearly, honestly, so very much, for your support and patience. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.

I will answer asks in any spare time I have, with every ounce of energy I can muster!

#ouroboros-if #interactive fiction #choicescript #hosted games #please check the forum for more info (I have a really high fever and my energy drained while updating the demo. forgive me)#i truly hope you enjoy! i know it is not everything I promised but it just goes to show that I should not promise so much #the rest of act 1 is coming as soon as I go on vacay and rest up. I literally can't look at the story right now my brain is so fried #I just have to edit it and the next update is ready #but for now this will have to do. still over 50k of content!

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treasureplcnet · 5 months

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someone on the bodies production team you have to release more layout/bts pictures of charles whiteman's flat please. this is a great start but i need to know him better. particularly if it's got about as much mould as a second year uni house and if he owns as many chairs as it seems LOL

#ok the joke is at his expense but im already romanticising this shit #20-something loser karl weissman moves into the worst flat of all time and makes it a home #hangs a picture of his parents' wedding against the worst wallpaper you've ever seen #just buys what he likes and calls it decor #how else can you explain the fucking model boat next to the fucking telephone. AND YOU MAY TELL ME 'oh thats just random set stuff'#NOT TO ME!#and it stays until he's in his mid 30s. develops a habit of not cleaning up along the way #the shot where he seems to have taken off his shirt/tie/jacket and then dropped them off on various pieces of furniture. HE LIVES LIKE THIS #also entertaining the idea that its his parents' old stuff that he can't bring himself to throw out ..#i will created a fully fleshed out character using 8 episodes and fever dream visions if i have to #karl weissman #bodies netflix #edit: the original tags are above but since then i joined the discord and got to add these pictures LOL #saved this post as a draft bc i was like. i cant annoy people on the tag any more than i already have #doesnt matter. forcing this into the tag like a week after i made it anyway #im still so interested in the fact that it seems like there are more rooms that we never see #outside this bedroom and living space (and the bedroom isnt clear in the show either)#like. i rly need a 360 house tour NOW.#ALSO I FEEL LIKE A TOWN CRIER NO I DONT THINK HE HAS MOULD BUT IT WOULD BE FUNNY!!!!#the chair next to the liquor rly is something. hes MY babygirl

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skitskatdacat63 · 7 months

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Hey do you remember all those videos of Fernando smelling flowers? Haha yeah....

#posting this both while im asleep and after whatever bee event ends up happening #so who knows what will happen! will we get nothing? will we get eye contact? will we possibly get an interaction? its a surprise!!#anyways this is basically me hearing about seb's bee event and he said the drivers will be there #me deep in my vettonso brainrot: OH MY GOD THEY'RE GONNA BE IN THE SAME VICINITY #will be so funny for me if when i wake up i find out fernando didnt even go 😭#but we remain hopeful 🙏#also this is just very funny to me bcs like both seb and fernando have very specifc quirks #and what are two of their specific quirks? seb and his bee thing. fernando and his flower thing from this season #so this fanart is perfect y'know 🥰🥰🥰#also screeching over how this is the first canon au drawing ive ever drawn. ive literally never drawn non-au until now 💀💀💀#okay and now some horrible jokes thay happened during the process of this:#thesis of this drawing: whats Fernando gonna do? Pollinate him? 😏#C. why did you have to make me think of bees that produce sex pollen 😭😭 this is gonna haunt me forever. but also vettonso post-japan fic-#and then also the barry benson thing. im like what do humanized bees look like and then realized 'oh no....oh no.'#fernando to seb at the bee event: 'ya like samurais...?' SORRY 😭#also having to pick the colors from one of my historical au drawings was haunting. just the sheer difference btwn them yknow......#anyways please take my old men yaoi. took a break from historical yaoi to draw this 😭😭😭😭#this is my peak vettonso fanart cannot improve from here. also a fever dream #vettonso #f1 #formula 1 #sebastian vettel #fernando alonso #catie.art.#*not gonna edit the tags bcs i like the time capsule of it all but like. yeah. we were fed.#*catie from 2 hours prior(atm its 3 am) would be so pleased right now i think

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bitch-butter · 8 months

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i've had it: a Web-focused analysis of episode 8

my babes, my babes, what can I say?

Over the years I’ve seen a lot of people saying that in “The Patrol” aka “The Last Patrol” Web is depicted as “trying to get himself taken off the patrol ”. Many long years I have rested, but now i have, in all essences, Had It with that take in light of my recent brush with death (not really, but it adds some gravitas right?).

It's Everybody's right to their own opinion, but I am here to host a Formal Rebuttal of this pervasive interpretation, because I never (even in my pre-webgott days) read That Scene as such, and I feel that this reading makes even Less sense within the full portrait of the episode. I will defend my stance with appropriate screengrabs, but unfortunately due to Max being made singularly of butts and capitalist dupes I am not able to screengrab anything that isn’t already grabbed or put on Youtube. I have much, but not Everything, so bear with me.

(This will not be a litigation of why the episode chooses to detract in myriad ways from the historical record, but suffice it to say that this episode makes a lot of choices re: who was on the patrol, why they were on the patrol, and who showed up when that are not Exactly accurate but does suit the story that they were endeavoring to tell. I’ll leave it at That.)

So, let’s get into it.

I. What is this episode about?

I spoke “briefly” but not that articulately about why episode 8 is my favorite episode on my good friend Sarah’s podcast last year, and I still stand by many of my reasons for doing so, but I’d like to highlight one element in particular.

This episode is coming hot off of the heels of one of the most harrowing episodes we’ve seen up to this point, “The Breaking Point”, and in that episode we see not only exactly what it has cost our guys to be in the Bois Jacques for so long, but we also see how this has in many ways made their bonds with each other even closer. They leave that conflict feeling tired, overworked and underfed, and incredibly protective of one another, and because we the audience got to see that we in turn feel protective of them as well.

Which is why I find the choice for Web being the main protagonist of the episode so inspired.

We are thrust immediately from this harrowing experience, as well as the lived-in dynamic with our main guys, into following a guy who disappeared from the show entirely in episode 5, which not only makes us suspicious of him but it runs up against our instincts to bond with our protagonist. We know immediately, even if we’re on a first or second watch, that Web was not in the Bois Jacques because of the visual language used to characterize him as well as his own opening narration, and as such we immediately don’t want anything to do with him because we too feel protective over our guys who were in the actual fight and we don’t want to waste our time with guys who don’t get it.

Trust and belonging. Those are the core themes of the episode in my opinion, and we see it with several characters (Lt. Jones and Web are in much the same boat because they have no trust and they don’t belong and so they have to earn them both back; Vest is trusted but he doesn’t belong not only because he’s not a guy the audience is that familiar with but because his job in the context of the show removes him from being that close to our core group). The episode is as much about those things as it is also about combat weariness, how our main guys are acclimating to the idea of the end being near, as well as the ultimate brutality and inhumanity of war on a micro level (Web’s ending monologue is a great example of this, and read in conjunction with Sink’s decision to try and send the patrol out again is a pretty good indictment of the depersonalized and mechanic way war works for a lot of people).

So, in essence, this episode is about getting the other guys, as well as the audience, to trust Web.

II. Web is a Good Character (you guys are just Mean)

How do you get the audience to trust your character (even if they don’t like him)?

They manage to accomplish this at least in part by trying to show us that even if his plans are lackluster his intentions are good, such as his initial - albeit inappropriate - happiness at greeting everyone, his reveal of who was being initially selected for the patrol, and his successful attempt to get Malarkey taken off the patrol. We see a few times that his actions have consequences, but for the most part we are able to Understand the train of thought that informs the choice. He sees that the other guys are distrustful of him and no longer want him around due to his absence from the previous episodes, something that clearly throws him off balance, and so we can progress through episode 8 with his primary motivation being to get the core group to trust him again and as such regain his sense of belonging.

We see it right away in the episode, where he greets the other guys only to be quickly dismissed and chastised for assuming a familiarity that is no longer there, and again we can infer from Eion Bailey’s performance that he not only understands that he’s made a mistake but is already internalizing that his decision to remain at the hospital was most likely the incorrect decision.

This goes directly into the motivation for telling his fellow platoon members that some of them have been selected for a patrol that most likely will be disastrous, which we can clearly see he doesn’t want to do but does in order to attempt to gain his footing back within their ranks.

This isn’t entirely successful, as the other guys seem to read it more as Web being first annoying at not wanting to tell them and then secondly unreliable because he told them in the first place. And again, we can read in Bailey’s performance that he quickly realizes that regaining his standing is not going to be as simple as he thought that it would be.

His next attempt at ingratiating himself is tied inextricably to the issue at hand. To reiterate, we the audience as well as our characters of interest have become protective over one another in the wake of the previous episode, and one of the characters who comes out of “The Breaking Point” particularly fragile is Malarkey. We have context for his emotional placement that bleeds out from the previous episode, and a lot of visual weight is given to the fact that Malarkey in particular is exhausted, depressed, and would benefit heavily from a brief respite from being on the front lines. Other characters express this sentiment In Webster’s Direction, and in search of another way to endear himself to the rest of the platoon he sets out to kill two birds with one stone by i. Getting Malarkey off the patrol ii. Getting Lt. Jones the experience he needs to hop up the ranks and go away.

This attempt is successful, but backfires again when Martin is placed in charge of the patrol instead of Jones. It is possible Web should have anticipated that due to the other man’s inexperience they wouldn’t have let him lead it to begin with, but we the audience should ideally still be interpreting at least the initial intention of the decision to be a good one. He sees that the other guys want Malarkey off the patrol, so he gets Malarkey off the patrol.

This brings us to the moment in question.

III. Let’s Break it Down: Part Un

INTERIOR - A ROOM IN lol i’m joking but what if i did do it like that

It is quickly revealed that Web’s plan has failed, at least in part. Martin has been appointed to lead the patrol, and is clearly no more eager to do it than anybody else is (except Lt. Jones), and Web clearly looks remorseful towards putting him in Malarkey’s place.

In an act of revenge he appoints Web to be translator, and Web is also not that jazzed about it but appears to accept it with a Tiny Little joke.

The scene progresses to planning the attack, and we get a few visual cues to indicate that this is a no good very bad idea and everybody hates it before the meeting ends and we hear Liebgott make a jab at Web’s attempt at a joke re: his German capabilities, to which Web gives my favorite reaction in the whole episode where he clearly wants to look directly at the camera like he’s on The Office and clowns his way out of the room.

Hard cut to everybody leaving the building, with a few of our guys in the background as Web moves into the foreground away from them (he wants to be with the cool kids but he’s Not one of the cool kids). We hear but don’t entirely see Grant saying the line “Webster. Tries to get out of everything”, but it’s loud enough that we can assume Web himself also hears this, and he has a small moment of looking back at them in response before he advances to address the officers.

He points out that both he and Liebgott speak German, and we the audience infer that having the two guys who speak German on the same patrol would be a bad idea because both of them could get taken out and then the company would be shit out of luck. Speirs is quick on his feet, and as Liebgott, Grant, and Jackson pass by he stops them and tells Liebgott he can sit this one out. Liebgott accepts, winks at Web, and gives him a joking thanks.

Web gives him a tiny half-smile, thanks the officers, and walks away, clearly not loving the fact that he’s going but not appearing resentful.

FINIS

That’s the scene of the crime. So, with this narrative context, let’s get to our second suspect.

IV. The Liebgott of it All

In black and white terms, the principal Antagonist to our Protagonist in this episode is Liebgott, even if we can all agree he’s a king and Web is Himself.

In Web’s intro to the episode he’s the character we see giving him the hardest time about being away from the company, when Web is gearing up to spill the beans about the patrol Liebgott is the one stirring the pot, and in the patrol meeting he’s the one making fun of Web for downplaying his German. Liebgott gets more weight in this episode than he has in any previous episode, and we are meant to extract from their numerous interactions that even if Liebgott is a guy that has been mostly on the fringes throughout the show up to this point he is going to be the one that makes the ultimate decision about whether or not Web will be accepted back into the group.

We have an automatic trust for Liebgott because we’ve seen and known him from the very first episode, he’s had individual moments sprinkled throughout the show, and narratively we’ve mostly seen him displaying his competency, humor, and principles. These are all things that the audience is missing in a relationship with Web, so like the other guys we’ll trust Liebgott’s assessment of Web more than we’ll likely trust Web’s intentions at face value. This gets tricky, because Liebgott is not immune to his own pettiness, and even if he Was capable of reading Web’s actions in good faith he is still going to have reservations because up to this point we have no reason not to think that Web stayed out of the fight On Purpose.

So, Liebgott gives Web a ton of shit throughout the episode, and the audience can take that as an indication that Web is not worthy of regaining his place in the group. Web also seems to realize this. If he wants to be back in the mix the person he’s really going to need to impress is Liebgott. As it goes on Liebgott’s exact intentions with Web are a little dubious, because at some points he does seem to internalize that he may be being too harsh or too resistant on Web. After Web gets outed as having told the other guys about the patrol Liebgott appears reserved, not taking pleasure in his embarrassment.

And after hearing Chuck’s pivotal line we can hear Liebgott brush it off with a “whatever” as he clearly looks towards Web in the foreground.

There are things at play in regards to how Liebgott is feeling about his own pettiness towards Web, but whatever reservations he has are not powerful enough up to this point that we take too much notice.

This, Web’s knowledge of it, as well as the throwaway line from Chuck, all inform the decision to approach the officers after the patrol meeting.

V. Let’s Break it Down: Part Deux (boogaloo électrique)

What We Know: Web is ostracized from the group and is trying to get back in, Liebgott in particular doesn’t want Web back in the group because he’s missed a formative event for the company and feels he doesn’t deserve it, and there’s a patrol that nobody wants to go on because They’re Tired looming in the distance.

With what we know (above), what we know happens in the scene (see part III), who these characters are plus their narrative intentionality (parts II and IV), and what the episode is presumably supposed to be about (part I), gives us a pretty clear indication of what Web’s intentions are when he approaches the officers. Web wants to be back in the group, Liebgott is the one he has to convince, and to put a cherry on top he clearly hears Chuck talking smack by saying he tries to get out of everything.

He prompts the officers by pointing out that Liebgott speaks German as well, and we Must assume he does this with the understanding that there’s no way they would take him off of the patrol over Liebgott.

Though we’ve seen Web make plans and have them backfire we can’t infer that he’s that stupid just based on what the show has told us about Web thus far. Socially awkward? Yes. Stupid? Not really.

There would be no way he’d think they would take him off and keep Liebgott on, and he already approaches with the knowledge that if he does earnestly try to remove himself from the patrol that would forever damage his standing in the company and he would never, ever be able to get back in with the core group. You know, that thing that’s motivating everything he does in the episode.

It wouldn’t make sense in any measure for Web to be going up to them trying to get himself removed. It wouldn’t flow with his actions in the episode, his motivations, Liebgott’s mini-arc of excluding him, and it certainly would not serve the overarching themes of the episode which are Trust and Belonging.

The perfect button to this conflict is the wink that Liebgott gives Web after being told he can stay behind. There’s a brief moment where he Just looks at Web, and there’s a definite understanding that moves between them that this isn’t the end of the road for Web’s attempts to get back in but that an Important Step has just been taken.

Web gives him that half-smile, accepts that his work is not done, and they move to their separate corners.

The culmination of these sort of swirling themes comes during the patrol, when we get a few different moments of Liebgott waiting across the river displaying clear alarm at what he’s seeing.

Given our context for Liebgott in this episode, and his primary relationship within it being with Web, we can assume this is the moment his feelings about letting Web back into the fold turn. He sees Web took him off the patrol, is now in a precarious position, and as we’ve had a few flashes of his backtracking his own pettiness towards Web we can assume this is the final straw.

He was fine holding out on Web up to this point, but he doesn’t actually want anything bad to happen to him just because he indirectly influenced Web into proving himself (even if Web was always going to be trying to prove himself).

So with the completion of the patrol two big things have occurred: Web has weathered a harrowing experience that cost the life of a beloved member of the company and as such got a small, small taste of what the rest of the company experienced in the Bois Jacques, and Liebgott has come to accept that Web’s intentions are good and he can be trusted again.

After this occurrence we see that at least as far as the other guys in the group Web is - for the most part - accepted back. Martin defends him against Cobb, and in that we can assume that the heavy lifting portion of Web's attempts to rejoin Easy have been successful. But the main character that Web, as well as the audience, is interested in is Liebgott. He's presented the greatest barrier to acceptance, and a lot of weight has been placed on he and Web's dynamic in the episode, so we have to wait and see how he will react to Web's newfound acceptance.

That leads them both perfectly to the end of the episode, where our visual cue to this is given: Web approaches the transport, Liebgott offers him his hand, Web takes it.

Poetic Cinema.

Web has regained trust, and once again he belongs.

VI. I've Had It

I own the fact that I’m feral about this episode and for the most part people don’t seem to like it that much, which is fine and I’m not here to convert anybody. Additionally, I own the fact that Web is my son and I think he’s hilarious and everybody else thinks he’s The Worst. However, I just don’t think that This particular criticism holds much water when we give it the actual reading that we’re meant to be giving it with the weight of the narrative, what we’re being told about individual characters, and the overall themes of the episode.

The truth is the truth, and we can’t All be champs.

Lol jk bc truly if you feel as strongly about this as i do (which seems doubtful lol) I am not anti-debate and I would welcome hearing why people seem so Deeply convinced of Web doing all of this just to try and get himself taken off the patrol.

(Answers I will Not accept are the kind that use Web being annoying as a basis for a read on his character motivations because girls that’s Not It.)

And so it is ~

#media analysis? on MY blog? it's more likely than you think #i think i was so haunted by the idea that i could die and people would still have this take that it propelled that i defeated my fever #band of brothers #david webster #listen lets clown on web for the Actual stuff he does that's not great aight bc This Ain't One #and i have been silent too long lol #now i'm going to dinner and i'mma get myself a Big glass of wine

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darcyolsson · 8 months

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"no one actually cares about the spotify links you post" wrong. i do. i mean it when i say i listen to at least half of the songs people put on my dash. a solid amount of my music i find through random hyperlinks or, preferably, a dramatic text post that uses smalltext.io liberally. i will even google randomly posted lyrics to find out which song it's from and then listen to it attentively and put it in a playlist if i like it. dont know whose god complex this is going to feed but i need to put this out there

#i ONLY do this on tumblr though youre the only people i trust have good music taste #and you do! there's so many songs i've found on here which i love #i listen to your mp3 your spotify links and your playlists and im having a great time! bitch!#found mitski through that nobody meme found ethel cain through a post saying 'listen to crush by ethel cain right now' and i did #maisie peters was obviously tay and alex's doing... sam's playlists are responsible for at least 30% of the songs i listen to #dance fever my fav album of all time i first listened to bc of a text post that did in fact use small text generator #so much beauty in the world keep sharing it with each other. <3 #personal

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shannonsketches · 1 month

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he's so important to me

#i guess i need to watch the anime but super's manga has just been a self-indulgent fever dream for me from start to finish #100000/10 absolutely perfect so validating so extremely catered to my tastes and headcanons and analyses and humor #so fucking funny and emotional and intense and goofy and beautifully drawn #my beautiful son getting to finally fucking see his HARD won character growth fucking shine and choose love and choose to be loved!!!!!!#Goku just being Goku Vegeta being Team Dad Piccolo being Team Grandpa Bulma being a fucking superstar keeping everybody organized and fed #god i love this squad i love this series i love these dumbasses and their struggles and their triumphs and their stupid childish bonding #I love that Toriyama just spent the last several years reminding the class that DB as a whole has always been an ACTION-COMEDY about LOVE #and I'm SO sad that the z anime really never did it justice in that sense because of having to fill time with dramatic tension but god. GOD #THE MANGA HAS ALWAYS BEEN SO CLEAR ON THAT THESIS.#Just all about Restorative Justice and Community and CARING even when you wish SO MUCH that you didn't care but yoU DO GODDAMMIT!!!#SUCH a great series I'm so sad it took losing mr t for me to finally read it but my god I needed to read it now and I'm so glad he wrote it #and i'm SO glad he wrote it Exactly Like This #once again rip to a legend i'm caught up and crying it's so perfect it's SO everything I've wanted to see onscreen and embedded in canon #and canon isn't everything but it still feels gREAT to be SO 1:1 on the same page with an author re: how you interpret your blorbo yknow???#been rotating this man in my head for 25 years and Mr Toriyama just mWAH kissed me on the forehead about it #anyway enough tag rambles I'm off again aklsjla #bonus for that kenpachi shit and letting him say 'sorry dude I can't be cold and numb anymore but this is still cathartic as fuck lol' like #mr t i hope you see the HIGHEST tier of heaven for that (and obviously for like everything all of it the whole life you led)

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imarvelatthestars · 1 year

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Don't Go Where I Can't Follow

Notes: I finally watched The Bad Batch and I'm ready to write about the batchers into oblivion. Another one for Wrecker, my beloved, because he's actually the loml.

Characters: Wrecker x Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, mention of blood/injuries/fever but nothing explicit

The life of a clone is the life of a soldier. It's full of violence and blood and death, and there's not much hope. That's why he tries so hard. He does his best to make his brothers laugh, to be lighthearted and ridiculous because where else will they find a glimmer of happiness in this mess of a war?

Wrecker's eyes flicker over your face again for probably the hundredth time this past minute. Your chest is rising and falling in short, shallow breaths even though you're asleep. Your brow is furrowed, your mouth slightly parted, and it's not right. Because you're like him, you're his glimmer of light in the darkness, the person who makes him laugh the most, makes his heart beat double time, and now you're sick and there's nothing he can do.

You moan softly in your sleep and his brain flashes back to the moment you collapsed into Echo's arms two days ago, how washed out your skin looked, the unnatural heat radiating from your body, the glazed over look in your eyes. He closes his eyes against the memory, but it persists. He can still feel his stomach dropping as he recalls Tech peeling back your bloody shirt and inspecting your now infected blaster wound. He can still feel the panic filling his lungs, can still feel the irrational anger threatening to engulf him until there's nothing left but the smoldering remains of his heart. He could go back to the battlefield and tear those droids apart all over again, he could fly himself back to Ord Mantell and ask Cid why the hell she hadn't payed them enough to get the medical equipment you needed, why she sent them on that mission in the first place, why she'd put you in danger like that, why he let himself put you in danger like that, but... Wrecker knew, in the end, it wasn't really anybody's fault.

He reaches into the bucket of cool water by his feet and wrings out one of the strips of fabric before gently placing it on your forehead like Tech had instructed. He's never been quite so grateful for his brother's know-it-all-ness like he is now. If you make it out of this- no, when you make it out of this, he's going to hug Tech so hard, he'll never tell him to shut up ever again, never complain about all his rants and ramblings.

And Wrecker is so lost in his thoughts of desperate what-ifs and maybes that he entirely misses the moment when your eyes flutter open. Until you moan again, soft and hoarse and pained, and he realizes you're awake and Maker, he could cry.

"Hey," you croak.

"You're awake." He's smiling, laughing, and yes, he's crying too. He leans in and scoops you up in his arms like a man half starved in the midst of a banquet. "I-I thought I'd lost ya. Thought you were gonna be sick forever! I didn't know what t' do, I-"

"Wrecker!" Your tone makes him freeze and he tilts his head up to look at you properly. "Squeezing too tight," you frown.

Of course he is. He sighs, nods, and sets you back down on the cot (his cot) as gently as he can. You've been awake for five seconds and he's already squishing you half to death like the brute he is. Stupid.

"'m sorry," he mumbles as his eyes attempt to fixate on anything but you.

Your hand on his cheek is enough to ground him, although he still can't quite manage to look at you. But he leans into your touch, memorizes it so he can carry this feeling with him wherever he goes. In this moment, there's no war, no Empire, they're not on the run, there's just you and him together. The way it should always be.

"Hey," you say again, softer than before. Dare he hope you even sound tender? "Wreck. I'm okay."

He closes his eyes in an attempt to hide his tears. "But you weren't. We were so far from the ship and we didn't have any bacta left. I had t' carry you all the way back." It was the longest walk of his life. "Tech... I dunno what he did, but he fixed you up real good. Never thought I'd care about all the stuff he knows, but I think he saved you." The tears seep out along his waterline anyway. His voice cracks. "Didn't want ya t' go where I couldn't follow."

He feels your thumb brush over the swell of his cheek. It's a solid reminder that you're alive, but it doesn't fully chase away the paranoia that's been eating away at him the last couple days.

You take in a shaky breath and he allows himself to swallow his pride and look at you. What does it matter if you see him cry, anyway? Surely you already know he loves you?

Your smile is weak, but it dazzles him all the same. "Could never leave you."

When Tech comes in to check on your fever, he sees you asleep on your back, one arm looped loosely around Wrecker's neck while Wrecker snores lightly into your stomach. The corner of his mouth twitches into a smile. He's sure that one day the two of you will verbalize your feelings for one another, assuming you haven't already. He quickly scans your temperature and, satisfied that it's gone down considerably, makes for the cockpit again.

Yes, he muses, one day.

#wrecker #wrecker tbb #tbb wrecker #wrecker x reader #wrecker x you #the bad batch #star wars #emotional damage 😃#this fic came to me while i was sick with a fever and now that im feverless im well enough to write it #i couldnt stop thinking about wreck using the lotr quote #also this was written on mobile so i'll have to add the read more when my laptop is charged. bear with me

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