#no matter how different they may seem. // like. holy fuck¿¿ yeah like. jesus
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wrote this after seeing this post earlier today and having an emotional reaction in the tags. yeah i know
also available on ao3
Castiel stumbles out of the Empty and into the bunker mere moments before the portal snaps shut behind him.
His knees hit the hard concrete floor as he collapses to the ground, exhausted and aching. He’s covered in blood and sludge and sweat. He’s dirty. He’s confused. He’s human.
And standing above him, holy and whole and alive, is Dean Winchester.
It takes a moment, but it comes back to Castiel all at once. Dean ripped his way into the Empty and shook Castiel awake. He had smiled shakily and said I love you. He’d held Castiel’s face in his hands and said We’re going home. And he’d lead them both through to the portal, striking sure with his blade as Castiel struggled to keep on his feet, to not be left behind. And then they made it through. And then they escaped.
Castiel can feel the unyielding concrete floor digging painfully into his knees, and almost sobs in relief at all of it. He may be human, but he’s home. He’s home, and Dean is here. Dean, who loves him too.
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” Dean says. It’s almost like a whimper, like a prayer. He goes to his knees in front of Castiel, and reaches out. Castiel relishes the feeling of Dean’s shaking hands on his shoulders, the way Dean drags his thumbs back and forth like he’s not sure this is real. “We did it,” Dean says. “You’re here. You’re really here.”
Castiel leans in. He doesn’t care to fight it anymore—and it seems he doesn’t have to. “You came for me,” he says.
“Of course I did,” Dean’s voice is almost violent in his conviction, and Castiel smiles tiredly at how familiar that is. “I’m always gonna come for you, dumbass. I love you.”
Hearing the words again is like the first time Castiel ever took a vessel, eons and eons ago: the strangeness of it, the novelty of seeing a world he knew well so differently, and the certainty that despite that, this was where Castiel was meant to be. The body was his, as close to a home as an angel can get.
Castiel understands, now, maybe for the first time, that he has a home, a real one, in Dean.
But still, there is lingering doubt. “Are you sure?” Castiel says. He knows what Dean will do for his loved ones. “Please, don’t say that if you think you have to. Please.”
Dean looks at him for a long moment, and Castiel notices for the first time that Dean is crying. Panicking and still not wholly in control of himself, Castiel reaches out to wipe them away; it’s a privilege he’s unused to, to touch Dean with this kind of tenderness.
“I’m sure that I love you, Cas.” Dean’s voice is unbearably soft, impossibly loving. “It’s one of the only things I’ve ever been sure of.”
Something in Castiel is shifting, and he lets out a sound he doesn’t recognize. Oh, he thinks, I must be crying. I’m crying.
Dean doesn’t seem distressed by this, but he pulls Castiel close, the angle so that Castiel’s head falls against his chest, so that he can hear Dean’s heartbeat. Dean’s right hand, one that has wielded weapon after weapon, that has baked cakes and cooked meals, that has reached out to Castiel even when it seemed there was nothing left to reach for, comes up to rest gently on the back of Castiel’s head.
“You’re safe, Cas,” Dean says, his voice a low, soothing murmur above Castiel. “I brought you back home, and you’re safe. We all are. And I’m gonna keep you safe, no matter what, because when people love each other that’s what they do. They keep each other safe.”
Castiel is holding tight to Dean’s jacket, and he’s probably going to leave a wet patch where he’s crying, and he doesn’t care. He can only focus on Dean, the things he’s saying, things Castiel has always wanted to hear. Something is sparking in his chest, something wonderful and bright and wanting.
Dean presses a kiss to the top of Castiel’s head. “We’re gonna get out of the bunker. You and me, we’re gonna find us a house and we’ll fix it up. It’ll have a garden for you, and a nice garage for me. We’ll have a window above the kitchen sink. We’ll do family dinners and shit like that, and it’s gonna be great.” Dean’s voice breaks, and Castiel feels his heartbeat, steady and present. “Because I got you back. I got you back, Cas, and I love you, and we can have this. We can have this.”
Castiel is still crying, the disbelief and the joy overwhelming. Dean has him, and he has Dean. They have each other. And he can sit here, listening to Dean whisper about the future they have ahead of them, and he can know that this is something he’s not going to ever lose again.
#rambleoncas#userzaddy#offbeattraxx#gardenercas#deancas#destiel#deancas fic#destiel fic#del's writing#just wrote this like i don't have my poc week fic to be working on#that's probably going to have to be a free space day post now lmao
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The Third Variant to the SootCraft Fundy and Wilbur family drama that Maybe Accidentally Started it
So yesterday me and @bigbraveboop came to the conclusion that C!fundy had an arc in early early L'manburg that we were kinda unaware of. And it cracks the case of... how the family drama started. And also is why is this exists
C!Tommy was the catalyst of the c!Fundy | c!Wilbur family drama in S1 and i promise i have proof
all /rp
So what does Fundy repeatedly say is his biggest gripe with Wilbur currently and multiple times after his death? Well:
“You were there for me for a very very long time and then when i needed you the most, you skedaddled fuck the out of my life and died. Because of what? L’manberg’s causes, huh? You thought that was- You thought that was justice? You thought that was good for me? You left me, man.’
“The dad that- my dad that exploded himself for the sake of a country, just for that country to be demolished in future hands?-"
“He put me to priority number 2, man. He put me in the second place.”
So its about L’manburg being more important than him to Wilbur.
Now lets dig deep, where did that insecurity start? Why did Fundy arrive at this conclusion? Why did he feel like this in the first place about his position in L’manburg and his Father?
We kinda assume it was always there or was because of Wilbur actually prioritizing L’manburg over his son/being negectfull. But no! Fundy was very confident in his realtionship with Wilbur and his position in L’manburg at the Start and we see tha change so!
I want to argue that this insecurity... didn't come from Wilbur or any of his actions or lack thereof. Not directly.
“Wilbur? I dunno, Wilbur’s a man of chaos, alright- due to the lore of the server, Wilbur may or may not have been the father of our nation, but- that doesn’t mean he’s for everything I do. That doesn’t mean he stands behind me, alright? Not necessarily...not necessarily.”
This is the first instance of Fundy doubting his connection to Wilbur helping things, i'd argue it still was a part of a lighhearted bit that isn’t to be taken too seriously in the context of the larger story but i realized something that made me change my mind, i mean it is still a lighthearted bit but it connects to a certain quote from uncle Innit:
“What would father think?”
And then that got me thinking and:
Part 1 aka Early L'manburg Fundy had different feelings towards Wilbur than Civil War Fundy
So how did Fundy act towars Wilbur early on?
Fundy: "Don't speak to me ma- hey that's fucked up don't talk about that. That's-"
Tommy: "Listen Th- you gotta kn- you gotta know you don't speak to the boss's son like that. Nevermind about- about the boss's wife to the boss's son in front of the boss's right hand man! You really gotta- You really gotta read the room Thunder."
Fundy: "Yea you don't. You don't."
JM: "fine ok let him do what he wants to do, i just don't wanna hear about it [..]"
Tommy: "Listen to me Fundy- Listen to me Fundy- he didn't mean that- he's just a bold man- he had- he had a little-"
Fundy [turning to JM]: "I will tell on you."
Tommy: " NO no no no Fundy- Fundy He had a little flirt with Dream- he had a little flirt with dream, he's- he's a- he's really new, he's learing his boundaries, he's over stepped them, alright, listen, but you don't have to tell Will, you don't have to tell no-one. "
[To JM] "Thunder you need to to calm your fucking- holy shit."
"-Please, please give him a rest."
JM: "no i- im sorry, im sorry, i'm sorry Fundy"
Fundy: 'I don't want this behavior again, alright."
JM: "no i wont- i wont-"
Fundy: 'Don't talk to my Dad OR my salmon Mother like that ever again, i will tell on you, keep it in mind. I have privilege to speak up against-"
JM: "i understand."
I will come back to the i have a privilege line later but first, from this we see Fundy being confident that Wilbur would take his side because he is his son. He is the “i will tell my parents about this” kid, alongside that he doesn’t feel like he has no imput in decisions, he doesnt feel insecure here he is in the position of power.
So again when did it appear?
Well,
Fundy: “I may or may not have scammed a bunch of people, including all of L’manburg people, um…”
Tommy: “You scammed L’manburg members?!”
Fundy: “But here’s the thing – I’m willing to pay you a part of the profit if you help me out here!”
Tommy: “Fundy…okay, can I tell you what’s happened from my point of view? The son of the President has gone around scamming the other presidential members, and as the Vice President whilst the President’s not on, this is my duty to make sure that this doesn’t pull apart L’manburg. And what you’re saying – what you’ve essentially just said is, ‘hey, can I bribe you?’“
Fundy: “…Can I?”
Tommy: “Jesus Christ…No, okay, we need to settle this now, ‘cause I mean if this happens on my turf, I’m gonna fucking take the blame from this from Wilbur, alright…so listen, Fundy, under no circumstances can you bribe anyone!”
Fundy: “I got two Netherite scraps?”
Tommy: “Okay, okay – explain to me what’s happened, please.”
[Fundy explains the conflict]
Tommy: “What would father think?”
Fundy: “Well, he always – he always sides…by me…obviously.”
Tommy: “Would he though? I mean, you’ve gone against the other members of the nation he fought to build.”
Fundy: “Well only because my loot has been stolen! Alright?”
Tommy: “This sounds petty, Fundy.”
Fundy: “Okay, okay, I can word this differently in my favor.”
Tommy: “No, okay, no – you’re not meant to say that out loud! Okay, I’m gonna ask Tubbo what’s happened, and then from there on we’ll – but please do not do any – we can’t have L’manburg falling out over this, alright?”
So here we see Fundy the president’s son being put in comparison to L’manburg the nation the president built for what Wilbur would prioritize for the first time, and Tommy sows the seeds that maybe L’manburg matters more to Wilbur than him, that Wilbur would choose the nation. this is also first time Fundy has been sort of excluded from the Whole of L’manburg.
and we see Tommy’s words affect Fundy,
Fundy: “We gotta list everyone who’s against me:”
“I killed Tubbo twice, I stole his bow. Tubbo’s probably against me.”
“Tommy has always been against me from the start.”
“Sapnap is against me because I killed his animals and stole them.”
“Punz is against me ‘cause I stole his bees.”
“Eret is against me ‘cause I went after Karl.”
“Karl’s against me ‘cause -- I just realized I’ve made a lot of enemies...I just realized I don’t have many -- I don’t have many allies on the server. There’s not many allies.”
“Who’s neutral? Niki! Niki is with me! Niki is friendly.”
“Wilbur? I dunno, Wilbur’s a man of chaos, alright...due to the lore of the server, Wilbur may or may not have been the father of our nation, but...that doesn’t mean he’s for everything I do. That doesn’t mean he stands behind me, alright? Not necessarily...not necessarily.”
“Quackity? Quackity’s definitely not -- no, listen, Quackity’s definitely not for me, okay. I called him a whore. There’s definitely -- there’s definitely many things Quackity has against me.”
so here is my argument... Fundy’s insecurity started with Tommy.
Part 2 Development Of Those Feelings (Uncle Tommy you’re not Helping)
Fundy, growing disillusioned with Wilbur and L’manburg, lead to this one coversation between Fundy and Wilbur,
Wilbur: Well the uh- the ballot entries have closed now.
Fundy: Who's in it?
Wilbur: Well it originally was just gonna be me and Tommy, me and Tommy tired to do it so- tried to do it so we will be the only ones running, then suddenly out of nowhere Quackity joins and enters himself on the ballot-
Fundy: Ok.
Wilbur: -so it's me and Tommy against Quackity and someone else.
Fundy: Who's someone else?
Wilbur: We don't know yet, he hasn't announced,
Fundy: Wait then- oh, so it's just a random… sneaky person who put himself in the ballot not announced who he is.
Wilbur: yeah, yeah. I mean if you wanna try and convince Quackity that you wanna run against your father.
Fundy: Yeah ok.
Wilbur: Wait, you- you wouldn't though.
Fundy: What if i win? What are- what are you gonna do?
Wilbur: Well then you'd be Vice President.
Fundy: but-What if i win?
Wilbur: Why do you want power in L'manburg so much?
Fundy: Why do you want power?
Wilbur: Because- i led the revolution, i'm your… i'm your president.
Fundy: That's history.
Wilbur: Wh- d- Do you not think i- i'm suitable to run for president?
Fundy: I think you are, but i think I am as well.
Wilbur: I don't know man. I don't- i think- i think you- i think you'd be s- i think you'd be getting into a fight you wouldn't want to start with me. You've only been on the positive side of me, you've only seen my nice side, because y'know? being my son you get- you get special- y'know? You won't ever see me going against you.
Fundy: Wait so you're a biased person going for presidency.
Wilbur: Biased to my son? Yes. But, if you're gonna run against me then i'm changing, i'll- i'll go guns blazing.
Fundy: I'll have a word with Quackity.
Wilbur: Fundy i… i've got- i've got- i've got a bad feeling about this. I think you're just gonna… you're just gonna get hurt.
Fundy: That will happen-
.
Wilbur: Fundy yeah- Yeah someone in my chat just pointed out, Fundy you started the civil war.
Niki: I mean technically Sapnap started the civil war.
Fundy: I mean- i mean technically- Yeah y' know, technically- and i'm gonna win it! It's fine! I mean what does he have on me, really?
Wilbur: I thought it was you fighting Tubbo?
Fundy: what?
Wilbur: I thought civil war was you and Tubbo?
Fundy: No, Tubbo's just a prick.
Wilbur: Sapnap's not even- not even part of L’manburg how is it a civil war?
Fundy: I don't know you brought it up!
Wilbur: Tommy told me- Tommy told me it was Tubbo and Fundy.
Fundy: Yeah no Tommy is a little bit delusional.
Wilbur: I think i've spoiled you.
Fundy: How?
Wilbur: I think you need to learn some manners.
Fundy: I dunno- power seems nice.
Wilbur: Fine, you can run against me, it won't end well for you but you can give it a go.
Fundy: Like i said i'll- i'll have a word with Quackity i'll think of my actions, see what will happen, i'm not saying necessarily that i'll go against you, then again i'm not standing beside you because you may or may not be the father of L'manburg
Wilbur: And you! The father of you!
Fundy: That's irrelevant. To-
Wilbur: No it's not irrelevant! It's very relevant to this!
Fundy: I don't- i don't think that's relevant to presidency
I’ll talk over Wilburs pov here in a little bit but focusing on Fundy,
He wants to run, other than everything we established before here Fundy wants to run to prove himself to himself, and we see the other part of this conflict more internally is,
(“[..] may or may not be the father of L'manburg- “ , “ That's irrelevant.” )
Well, here is the insecurity about Wilbur choosing L’manburg (here his position as president) over Fundy, the being second place to L’manburg part matters here becasue i think this is where Wilbur and Fundy fundamentally clash, so Fundy doesn’t want for it to matter to Wilbur, he doesn’t want for his position as son to have any influence over Wilbur here beacuse of this fear that that’s why he may be in the second place.
now let’s move on to,
Uncle Tommy ‘helps’
Fundy: “I’m wearing glasses…are you making fun of my eyesight?!”
Tommy: “Yes.”
Sapnap: “Your father would be very disappointed.”
Fundy: “Wh – disappointed for wearing glasses?!”
Tommy: “You got glasses, like what are you wearing…”
Fundy: “What do you mean?”
Tommy: “Sapnap, Sapnap, over here. Fundy, Fundy, Fundy, I’m really sorry to say this – I’m just here to publicly denounce you.”
Fundy: “…What?”
Tommy: “I just, I – yeah. You’re stinky, you’re shitty, the fur that’s sewn onto your skin, I look at it and I go (retching sounds) And whilst you’re a lovely guy, you’re actually not, you’re really…and all the viewers are like ‘oh no!’ But they can’t smell you. I can! Holy shit, you know? I mean you know, Sapnap…”
Fundy: “I showered two hours before the stream…”
Tommy: “I know, and that’s what makes it so remarkable, how you smell that terrible.”
Fundy: “I used coconut oil…it smells good…”
…
Tommy: “Fundy, I’m just here to kinda let you know that I – if you weren’t Wilbur’s son, you would be out of L’manburg, alright? Just remember – you need to keep that relationship with your father. I saw how asshole-y and bratty you were acting in the courtroom the other night. You need to pull your shit together young man.”
Fundy: “Being neutral is – is asshole?”
Tommy: “Yes. Come with me, Sapnap. Yeah, I’ve denounced you – well no no no, you were challenging him. You were challenging him.”
Fundy: “Denounced to what?”
Tommy: “I just – it’s just a formal way of saying you suck.”
(Tommy and Sapnap leave)
Fundy: “…They are mean…They are mean! Why are they so mean? That is so mean…”
Fundy: “Listen, it is one thing making fun of a person’s appearance…it is one thing making fun of a person’s blindness, but hey – don’t fucking make fun of my coconut oil! Listen dude…that shit smells tasty! That smells good! Man…that’s…god…coconut oil, man…dude.“
…
Fundy: “TNT their houses? That will just prove their point, chat. That will just prove their point. That will just prove their point…they’re just mean. They’re so mean. But it is okay, chat. It is okay. The reason why it’s okay…that’s actually true. Why is he talking to the enemy? Wait…wait a minute. Wait a minute! So let me get the story straight real quick.”
“Chat…just hold up a second here! Hold on a second! So Tommy is demoting me, right? And he’s saying you’re only in L’manburg because of Wil. So Tommy says…in theory, he would kick me out if he had the chance. But considering that, while he’s together with Sapnap…it leads me to believe…Tommy wants to destroy L’manburg!”
“Why would he do that? Why would he team up with Sapnap? He had no correlation with this conversation at all. What was the reason for that?”
“…Do we have another traitor in our midst?”
…
Fundy: “Listen, Tommy, here’s a really interesting theory, alright…here’s an interesting theory, Tommy. I got a little theory on my mind! Listen, boy, we’re part of L’manburg, you and me. Wil as well, Tubbo, all of us, alright? And we’re supposed to be a union! Now here’s the thing! Here’s the thing. If you said, due to Wilbur I’m still basically part of L’manburg – in other terms saying that if it was on your hands you would get me out of there, right, why would you excessively bring Sapnap, out of all people, for that conversation alone?”
Tommy: “Shall I explain to you? It’s because, Fundy, we fucking need votes, Fundy. We need votes! This Quack City guy, son of BadBoyHalo? He’s just – he’s just, like, oh my god. We needed votes. And listen, Fundy–”
Fundy: “You basically just lost my vote, and I feel like that’s your purpose!”
Tommy: “You’re in L’manburg! You vote for us already – you vote for your own father, don’t be an idiot!”
Fundy: “I feel like you’re trying to bring us apart, Tommy. I feel like your goals are not supportive towards L’manburg at the moment…”
Tommy: “From my perspective, Sapnap hates you, Fundy. Sapnap hates you. And if I go listen, if I had to tier list all of the members of L’manburg, Fundy would be in D tier. He needs to hear that.”
Fundy: “…Tommy, are you Eret?”
Post the court debate Fundy was more decided on running on his own,
“Honestly, I feel like everything just needs to change. Honestly, I feel like neither of the parties have done enough right to deserve leadership, to deserve presidency in the first place. I feel like a lot of shit needs to change.”
Fundy didnt want to endorse any of the parties, SWAG2020 was endorsed by Dream, and he belived POG2020 to be corrupt because of the bribing Karl situation, so he was more keen on running on his own, and then came the public denouncing situaion.
Obviously Fundy was hurt by this, especially considering Sapnap was his enemy, and Tommy’s words didnt do Fundy’s and Wilburs already shaky relationship many favours, but his behaviour both pushed Fundy futher away from the POG party, and started Fundy’s ‘traitor Tommy’ theory that he shared with Niki after which the Coconut2020 party was formed.
Part 3 Wilbur is a oblivious dumbass but it makes sense now.
now lets look at Wilburs pov of things, which means we are coming back to the privilege line,
Wilbur: I don't know man. I don't- i think- i think you- i think you'd be s- i think you'd be getting into a fight you wouldn't want to start with me. You've only been on the positive side of me, you've only seen my nice side, because y'know? being my son you get- you get special- y'know? You won't ever see me going against you.
-----
JM: "no i- im sorry, im sorry, i'm sorry Fundy"
Fundy: 'I don't want this behavior again, alright."
JM: "no i wont- i wont-"
Fundy: 'Don't talk to my Dad OR my salmon Mother like that ever again, i will tell on you, keep it in mind. I have privilege to speak up against-"
JM: "i understand."
So coming back to this quote, i belive Wilbur didnt realize Fundy had these doubts about thier relationship, because he was used to Fundy sharing his problems with him, and he was left kinda drifting in an ‘why is my son suddenly against me now??’
Wilbur didnt realize Fundy’s feelings about him had changed, as in Fundy no longer WOULD come to him if he had any probems, because Fundy used to come to him with problems, ("I will tell on you.") But Tommy’s first comment knocked him down and the debate and the Sapnap-Tommy situation had as well and the denouncement, (which Wilbur also knew shit about) because he was already insecure about his place in L’manburg and Wilbur. AND he wouldn't come to Wilbur like he used to because Wilbur was the point of his insecurity even if he wasnt the couse of it.
So we see Wilbur kinda be sad and confused and misstepping becasue of that,
Wilbur: I don't know man. I don't- i think- i think you- i think you'd be s- i think you'd be getting into a fight you wouldn't want to start with me. You've only been on the positive side of me, you've only seen my nice side, because y'know? being my son you get- you get special- y'know? You won't ever see me going against you.
Fundy: Wait so you're a biased person going for presidency.
Wilbur: Biased to my son? Yes. But, if you're gonna run against me then i'm changing, i'll- i'll go guns blazing.
Fundy: I'll have a word with Quackity.
Wilbur: Fundy i… i've got- i've got- i've got a bad feeling about this. I think you're just gonna… you're just gonna get hurt.
------
Wilbur: Tommy told me- Tommy told me it was Tubbo and Fundy.
Fundy: Yeah no Tommy is a little bit delusional.
Wilbur: I think i've spoiled you.
Fundy: How?
Wilbur: I think you need to learn some manners.
Fundy: I dunno- power seems nice.
Wilbur: Fine, you can run against me, it won't end well for you but you can give it a go.
-----
Wilbur: Wait, look who’s coming, look who’s coming.
Tommy: Uh oh!
Wilbur: My son. My boy.
Tommy: Your ex-son.
Wilbur: Yeah. Well, I mean, he’s still my son in blood, but, he’s just…
Tommy: You should put him up.
Wilbur: What d’you mean, put him up? What, for adoption?
Tubbo: For adoption.
Tommy: Yeah. You should see if Big Q will adopt him.
[They discuss Fundy’s Twitch Prime cape. He runs up on stage, to the microphone, and starts punching the air. He’s not in the same vc as them.]
Wilbur: What’s he doing, what’s he doing- what is this? What is this bit? What is he doing?
Tommy: What the fuck are you- no.
Wilbur: He’s just not- he’s not- he’s really upsetting me.
Tommy: Just- just- he’s not President is he? He’s got no manners, he has no manners. No etiquette.
Wilbur: Look, he’s supposed to be my son.
[Wilbur types in chat: “fundy talk to me” and Fundy immediately leaves the game.]
Tubbo: He is trying.
Tommy: Tubbo, you’re gonna get murdered, my friend.
Wilbutr: He said, he said, “I am here for the Presidencialcy-” He just left.
Tommy: And then he- [sighs] I’m so sorry you have to deal with him.
W: I don’t- I- It’s really sad, like I… Honestly, I- when he turned around to me and he said he wasn’t gonna vote for me, and then he decided he was gonna vote for the opposition, and then he decided he was gonna run against me, that was- one of those was the straw that broke my back. I’m not sure which one- I’m still contemplating which one was the- are you listening?
[Tommy has jumped off the podium to join Tubbo in the audience.]
Tpmmy: Yeah, I’m going down to Tubbo, I just- I’m just letting you vent, Wilbur, I want you to have time to vent.
Wilbur: Yeah I just- I miss me son! I miss me son! I miss when he was my boy! Do you remember when he was my boy?
Tommy: Yeah, I’m not really good at handling… People who are emotional.
Wilbur also didn’t know anything about the denouncement situation,
Sapnap: “Will you continue to have your son banished from L’Manberg if I vote for you?”
Wilbur: “My son. My- My son. Look, we’re talking about politics here, I don’t want to talk about my family, if that’s alright. … I would like to say, thank you, Sapnap, for the question, I very much appreciate it, but I’m not gonna be fielding responses about my family situation, thank you.” (Alivebur)
*Wilbur proceeds to step off the podium and cry*
Wilbur: “Fundy...!”
Besides that fundamenatally Fundys and Wilburs views about the presidency oppose eachother,
“Tommy, I’m- I’m- I’m- I don’t know what to do, Tommy, I’ve never not been President.”
Fundy sees Wilbur and L'manburg as two separate things that he has to unfiairly contest with and for
1. for Wilbur because of his fears, for a place among L’manburg members
2. Because He wants to prove himself to himself. he needs to know what Tommy said, isn’t true/he can thrive regardless without his fathers support he can still be a great member of L’manburg and even a president
Wilbur sees himself as inherently connected trough L’manburg with everyone to the point that he thinks that without his position he cant do anything for his loved ones/ he wont be usefull. he thinks of l’manburg as something he does FOR all of them including Fundy.
“My son… My son is tearing down the walls, in front of me! My son is tearing down the walls in front of me! The walls I built to keep him safe! I promised him this world, Tommy, I promised him this world.”
----
“Fundy was the closest thing I had to something I cared about in L’Manberg, when it all began. You know, when it started, the closest thing to anything I cared about was Fundy. Fundy was my, he was my, he was my boy! My rock!”
----
Ranboo: "I don't know if they actually needed me, but I was there.(about his work in the NLM cabinet)"
Wilbur:"I know that feel."
This why Fundy and Wilbur clash fundamentally here,
Fundy: Like i said i'll- i'll have a word with Quackity i'll think of my actions, see what will happen, i'm not saying necessarily that i'll go against you, then again i'm not standing beside you because you may or may not be the father of L'manburg
Wilbur: And you! The father of you!
Fundy: That's irrelevant. To-
Wilbur: No it's not irrelevant! It's very relevant to this!
Fundy: I don't- i don't think that's relevant to presidency
Part 4 Tommy WHY? (he is propably protective and and a tiny bit jealous )
----
Tommy: “Hey, you know about Fundy’s little rebellious stage he’s going through?”
Tommy: “Fundy, I’m just here to kinda let you know that I – if you weren’t Wilbur’s son, you would be out of L’manburg, alright? Just remember – you need to keep that relationship with your father. I saw how asshole-y and bratty you were acting in the courtroom the other night. You need to pull your shit together young man.”
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Tommy: “Shall I explain to you? It’s because, Fundy, we fucking need votes, Fundy. We need votes! This Quack City guy, son of BadBoyHalo? He’s just – he’s just, like, oh my god. We needed votes. And listen, Fundy–”
Fundy: “You basically just lost my vote, and I feel like that’s your purpose!”
Tommy: “You’re in L’manburg! You vote for us already – you vote for your own father, don’t be an idiot!”
Fundy: “I feel like you’re trying to bring us apart, Tommy. I feel like your goals are not supportive towards L’manburg at the moment…”
Tommy: “From my perspective, Sapnap hates you, Fundy. Sapnap hates you. And if I go listen, if I had to tier list all of the members of L’manburg, Fundy would be in D tier. He needs to hear that.”
----
Wilbur: Wait, look who’s coming, look who’s coming.
Tommy: Uh oh!
Wilbur: My son. My boy.
Tommy: Your ex-son.
Wilbur: Yeah. Well, I mean, he’s still my son in blood, but, he’s just…
Tommy: You should put him up.
Wilbur: What d’you mean, put him up? What, for adoption?
Tubbo: For adoption
---
Wilbur: He said, he said, “I am here for the Presidencialcy-” He just left.
Tommy: And then he- [sighs] I’m so sorry you have to deal with him.
W: I don’t- I- It’s really sad, like I… Honestly, I- when he turned around to me and he said he wasn’t gonna vote for me, and then he decided he was gonna vote for the opposition, and then he decided he was gonna run against me, that was- one of those was the straw that broke my back. I’m not sure which one- I’m still contemplating which one was the- are you listening?
[Tommy has jumped off the podium to join Tubbo in the audience.]
Tommy: Yeah, I’m going down to Tubbo, I just- I’m just letting you vent, Wilbur, I want you to have time to vent.
Wilbur: Yeah I just- I miss me son! I miss me son! I miss when he was my boy! Do you remember when he was my boy?
Tommy: Yeah, I’m not really good at handling… People who are emotional.
Besides Tommy genuinely wanting to get more votes during the dennoucemnt situation, his seconddary motive was well, he was protective over Wilbur, he noticed that what Fundy did during the debate hurt Wilbur, and kept acting bitter towards him from then on. ( “ I saw how asshole-y and bratty you were acting in the courtroom the other night.” / And then he- [sighs] I’m so sorry you have to deal with him.” )
the he a was tiny bit jealous point IS more up in the air but we can compare this to how Tommy acted towards Ranboo just after leaving prison, when he learned of the c!beeduo marriage.
Quotes from @/kateis-cakeis, @/findingjoynweirdstuff, @/ace-enderchest and my own transcripts, thank you guys!
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AHSDHFHHJKKHD
THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT. WAS SO FUCKING GOOD.
[spoilers below if you haven’t seen it and you want to]
Here are some of my (not in any particular order) bullet points. This is gonna be long as hell because, you know, brain dumps amiright
First off, Anya Taylor-Joy’s acting. Is just incredible. In particular moments, you can tell what she’s thinking with a simple hand gesture or with the tiniest raise of an eyebrow. She develops Beth’s signature facial expressions and movements throughout the show, and you just feel like you know her. And during her chess matches, sometimes it feels like she’s staring into your soul. Especially when she gives that badass chin-on-the-hands look and she knows she’s going to win. Powerful energy.
Secondly, I fucking knew I recognized Harry Beltik from somewhere else but my mom didn’t BELIEVE me and then I looked up the actor and he’s DUDLEY DURSLEY, I WAS RIGHT MOTHER, I WAS RIGHT
I love love love how they didn’t make, like, a major romantic plotline. Beth doesn’t end up with a partner - she ends with a bunch of super supportive friends that have her back by the time she gets to Moscow, and like, she has a crush on Townes but they end up being just like super good and healthy friends and I love it?? So much?? Thank you producers
Townes. Just, in general. I really like his character, he’s super nice and his voice is oddly soothing
BORGOV. I LOVE BORGOV. HE IS SO GODDAMN RESPECTFUL. Like, he seemed like a very cold character at first - well-mannered and extremely professional, yes, but rather cold. But when she wins in Moscow? “It is your game. Take it.” I LOVE THAT SO MUCH. AND HE HUGS HER AND STARTS CLAPPING AND THE AMOUNT OF RESPECT AND ADMIRATION AND AFFECTION IN THAT SCENE IS INCREDIBLE. And you don’t see any of that in Borgov’s face when he’s playing. His facial expressions do not change at all. But then his face when she wins!! He’s HAPPY! He’s like, goddamn, I’ve spent my whole life mastering chess, it’s about time somebody fucking beat me! I know I’m repeating myself but just his RESPECT I absolutely adore it
And Beth’s officer-watcher-person in Moscow was all like “ahhh be wary of the Russians! communism!!” but they absolutely did not make this yet another evil Russian show, like please that trope works for plots but it’s about time somebody did something different - they showed the US government as suspicious of the Soviets but then they showed the solidarity between the chess players that Benny talked about earlier (”The Russians work together, Americans work alone” or something like that), and then they showed the kind and excitable people on the streets, and the amount of support they would have had no matter WHO won that goddamn match. The old man she plays at the end. Everyone is a community.
Continuing that - I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the old man with the very puffy white hair, but I loved him too. He sees Beth as the rising star she is, and he respects her. He admires her. The dynamic there is absolutely immaculate, contrary to the dynamic between Beth and the man she beats earlier, the one who walks off and doesn’t even talk to her. We don’t like that man - we like the ones who admit defeat and respect Beth!! I love them!! They are extremely professional, and they show the warm-heartedness that often doesn’t show with all of the cold stares and glares that pass between players during matches.
Joline. I’m so glad she came back. I love her. She’s extremely independent but she comes back for Beth because Beth needs her but she’s also like “I’m not your savior! Get your shit together!” which is fucking awesome. And the fact that the two of them interacted like the best of friends even after years of separation was really sweet to me.
I nearly cried when Beth went back into the school. (I say ‘nearly’ because there were other people in the room and naturally I can’t do that in front of other people. If I was utterly alone, maybe on my own planet, I would have.) Because of all of it. Because of her trauma, because that’s where all the shit began... and the music during that scene. It was hauntingly beautiful, especially when the melody began switching to cello. And then Beth saw all the pictures and newspaper clips that Mr. Shaibel had saved, because he cared about her so much, because he started it all - he’s the reason she’s going to national tournaments, to Paris, to Moscow. And in that scene, we know he’s too old to be alive anymore, and she does too. The whole school scene in general just feels so ghostly and ethereal.
I love Borgov, did I say that already? I just... strive to exude his energy. I want to be good at things but I want to hold deep, genuine respect and admiration for others who are also good at the thing, because sometimes I just have the biggest fucking ego and I can get carried away. ‘Borgov, Borgov, Borgov.’ A mantra. He wins respectfully and he loses respectfully.
BETH’S MOTHER (the second one) JUST FUCKING DIED OUT OF NOWHERE?? AND I WAS SO SHOCKED? Which is really an accurate reflection of reality because death often comes out of nowhere, but DAMN I was not expecting that shit
And the fact that the mother just,,,, let her chug a beer,,,, oof
THE ADDICTION. BETH’S DOWNWARD SPIRAL. IT MADE ME FEEL SO HORRIBLE BUT IT FELT SO REAL. Everything about her progression through addiction was just... I can’t find an adjective. But when she just fucking inhaled that bucket of pills as a kid and then collapsed. When that addiction lasted into her adulthood - it’s really impactful and horrible and just so real. She needed proper care throughout this entire goddamn show and she never got medical care, she just got supportive friends - which, btw, that’s one thing that kind of threw me off. Like, she didn’t have withdrawal in Moscow, she went from chugging like four bottles of wine a day to... not drinking at all?? Without withdrawal symptoms?? And I’m proud of her for throwing away those pills but honestly it felt really fast, idk
GIVING CHILDREN TRANQUILIZERS WAS AN ACTUAL THING THAT HAPPENED. I DID NOT PREVIOUSLY KNOW THIS. BUT LEGITIMATELY, IT HAPPENED. HOLY SHIT.
HARRY BELTIK. He was like, awkwardly in love with Beth and that shit didn’t work out but even afterwards he FUCKING CARED. He’d seen his father drink himself to death and he knew that would happen to Beth and he was scared. So he came back, he tried to help her, and at that point (when she had that fucking scary eye makeup, yeah that was rock bottom) she didn’t care much about the outside world anymore. She was angry, and she was closing herself in. It made my stomach clench in physical pain. Which is a good thing. But also not.
Harry Beltik in general just being so supportive and wanting to help her though, like yeah it was very awkward, but they were vibing
AND BENNY WATTS IS FUCKING GREAT. THAT WHOLE COWBOY LOOK, COWBOY CHESS PLAYER, NOW THAT’S AN AESTHETIC. He was concerned for Beth too. He wanted to help her. He wanted to create that American solidarity that he knew the Soviet competitors had, and ultimately he did when he and everyone else called her in Moscow. Benny is... chaotic good? Neutral? He is quite an interesting character, and Beth’s persistent social awkwardness fades away with him because he knows how to interact with her. He’s a dedicated and smart narcissist, and I’m here for it.
The fact that they made me love and hate Cleo at the same time, and also question Beth’s sexuality when she first met Cleo. Like, she’s from Paris. She considers ‘tomorrow night’ to be a very long time away. I love her mysteriousness. But also, she was the catalyst for Beth’s downward drinking spiral before the match in Paris, so like... I like Cleo’s personality, but not her choices in those previous moments.
The music. Did I mention the music? The soundtrack. The orchestrals. That one song that the mother plays on piano that I hear all the time and I still don’t actually know what it is PLEASE HELP. The music is melancholy in the right moments, upbeat in the right moments, intense and suspenseful in the right moments - and also absent in the right moments. There’s tacet. There’s silence. And it’s always been my firm belief that silence can hold just as much impact as sound.
Just an interesting note, my mom watched the whole show before me and then re-watched it with me, and when Mr. Shaibel showed up she quickly reassured me that he wasn’t a child molester, because quote “it may be a creepy basement but he’s just really nice” so... I was reassured
I love Mr. Shaibel, and Beth just kept sticking up for him in front of the press and,,, yeah
I hated that bitch from the high school, what was her name?... The one who showed up in the store with a child? It makes me think about the fact that so many kids are just jerks in high school simply because they can be... and occasionally their fuckery lasts into adulthood but oftentimes it doesn’t. You don’t have to be a jerk when you’re an adult, and you don’t have to be a jerk in high school! People remember, people always remember! So, to the bitch from the high school: fuck you for making Beth feel like an outsider and then trying to reverse gears and accept her, cuz Beth isn’t falling for that shit.
The twins, Matt and Mike. They’re so doubtful of Beth in the beginning but then bam, she’s competing nationally, and I adore how the three of them become friends. All those men playing chess in Kentucky in the beginning seem so condescending, but ultimately they show respect because Beth absolutely fucking deserves it.
I enjoy the fact that we never *really* know Beth’s age. It’s just like... she’s 9, she’s 15, she’s 17, she’s... twenty something? Who the hell knows? As many characters say, when it comes to skill level, age ultimately isn’t an important factor. This young woman beats the oldest man with the bushiest white hair in Moscow and age. Does not. Matter.
The Jesus people lmaooooo when Beth said “because it’s fucking nonsense” I just. Mad respect ma’am, don’t take their money, go be a communist and “sPrEaD tHe aThEiSt AgEnDa”
Wow I really just... wrote all that didn’t I damn wish I could write essays this fast at reasonable hours of the day
Beth’s relationship with her foster mother is so fucking sweet until she fucking dies
And fuck Beth’s legal father. He is an asshole. That is all.
The mother deserved Manuel, she deserved that sketchy Mexican salesman goddammit
As my final bullet point: This has made me want to play chess. This has made me want to get good at chess. You know that thing where you like, download the personality of the coolest character for like a day after you watch something... I don’t do that anymore (maybe), but I want to download those mad chess skills. This has made chess seem so cool. I want to wear a fancy suit and compete with people. I just have to, you know, actually develop some strategy and stop losing brutally against people online. I wAnT tO pLaY cHesS dO yOu HeAr mE
I’m going to stop now, but I just,,, peeps, I love this show. I’m absolutely going to require a re-watch in the future. I just love it. The characters and their development, their relationships with each other, the progression of time and of Beth’s maturity... it is simply incredible. This concludes my brain dump.
#ah. just ah.#the queen's gambit#beth harmon#elizabeth harmon#townes#harry beltik#mr. shaibel#vasily borgov#chess#netflix#rant#random#thoughts#brain dump#joline#tw drugs#tw drinking#tw alcohol#tw trauma#ahdsfgsdjfgsjgjdgjhdsgfjsdgjfds#anya taylor joy#benny watts
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Where My Demon’s Hide (A Zak Bagans x Nephilim Reader SMUT!)
WARNINGS: SMUT, LANGUAGE
SPECIAL THANKS TO: @xcazzax who not only gave me this idea but who has inspired me to maybe write Zak Bagans fics for each day of October (or at least try to). Thanks girly, for helping me get my mojo back. 😊
I arrived at the Asylum just as they were setting up the cameras. I've been with the GAC for a few years now and I have yet to have a boring day with them. They are and always will be my family. Aaron, was like a goofball older brother who smokes like a chimney, looks tough as shit but is actually chicken shit (not that that's a bad thing, lord knows I'm not brave when locked in a haunted room on my lonesome). Billy is my punk rock brother who has also not grown out of the punk/emo phase of life. Jay is the responsible one of the group (aka the dad) who sometimes looks like he's ashamed of having raised such dumbass kids. And there's Zak, the main man of GAC who is both crazy and beautiful. He wasn't afraid to get in an evil spirits face, and even opened up his home to those who were harming others in their old one's. It's that twisted generosity that has led to moments like these.
Aaron looked nervous and Billy seemed to not want to leave the van unless absolutely necessary. That only meant one thing.
“How is he?” I asked Aaron who was getting the equipment ready.
“Um, well...”
“ C'MON SHOW YOURSELF YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!” We heard Zak yell from inside the asylum.
“Oh,” I sighed. I swear it was like Zak attracted evil (and sometimes demonic) spirits like chocolate attracts a hoard of kids. Then again he was more than okay with investigating places with the most gruesome of histories. “I'll see if I can cool him down before the shoot. Just hang tight.”
“'Kay, good luck Y/N.” Aaron said.
I grabbed a flashlight from the van and walked in to the asylum. Zak was in the middle of reception area with a wild look in his eye. “Zak?”
He looked at me. “There's something here I-I know it!”
I looked around not seeing anything until my eyes landed on a shadowy figure hovering around Zak. Ah shit. “Zak it's not one of the residents,” I said. “One of your little friends is just being an asshole.”
The shadow looked up and snarled at me.
“Yeah I'm talking about you,” I rolled my eyes. “Now kindly fuck off before I hose your sorry ass down with holy water.”
It growled and vanished.
“Thanks,” Zak said calming down a bit.
“We really need to do something about this Zak,” I said. “You can't keep letting them get to you like that. It's how they win.”
“I know but...I don't know how else to keep them from hurting anyone,” he said. “From hurting you.”
“Well it's gone for now, and that's all that matters,” I said brushing his cheek with my hand. “Now are we just gonna chill in here or are we gonna investigate this bitch?”
He smirked. “C'mon my ghost whisperer let's get you a mic and a camera.” He threw his arm around my shoulders and escorted me back out of the asylum and to the GAC van.
Eventually the sun went down fully and the haunting hour was upon us. “Okay Y/N why don't you stay here by yourself for a bit and see what you can get.” Zak said when we reached the children's ward.. Sadistic fucker.
“Sure,” I said. He and the crew left and I sat down cross-legged on the ground and put my 'gift' to work. “Hello there. I was wondering if we could talk for a minute if that's okay.” I placed the spirit box on the floor in front of me. “You see this little box? Well if you talk into it I can hear you...er I mean the world will hear you. I for one don't really need it. So what do you say?”
“D-Do you know where my mommy is?” A small voice called out in the darkness.
I sighed. “No sweetie, I don't...what's your name?”
“H-Hazel,” she said.
“It's nice to meet you, Hazel, I'm Y/N,” I said. “Can you do me a favor and speak into this?” I motioned at the spirit box. “My friends really want to know you, and help you if we can.”
“R-Really? Wuh-What about Dr. Meanie?” she asked.
“Dr. Bronson can't hurt you anymore,” I said. “And if he tries, he'll have to deal with me.”
I suddenly felt a weight on my lap, like that of a small child snuggling up to mommy.
“I-Is this okay?” she asked.
“Yes, beautiful, it's fine.” I reached out and wrapped my arms around her. “God, how did such a sweet little angel like you end up here? This is no place for a child.”
“M-Mommy came here when I was still in her tummy,” she explained. “They took me away after I was born and I never saw her again.”
“Do you know how you ended up like this?” I asked. “You're awfully young to be as you are.”
“I-I got sick...Dr. Meanie wouldn't give me my medicine 'cause I slapped Tippy on the head for pulling my hair. One day I went to sleep, and...and suddenly I was invisible.”
“Have you tried to go into the light?” I asked. “I'm sure you'll find your mommy there, and someday I'll be there too.”
“I thought I saw it once but...I was afraid. Dr. Meanie tells us it's not safe.”
“It is safe,” I said. “I promise you it is a thousand times better than this place.” I wanted to say shit hole but I had a rule about cussing in front of kids, even the dead ones.
“It's in my room,” she whispered.
I sniffed back a tear and kissed the top of her head. “Go to it,” I urged her.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, angels belong in heaven after all,” I said brushed her cheek and she giggled.
“Thank you, Ms. Y/M,” she said standing up and vanishing through the nearby doorway.
“Good bye sweet angel,” I said before turning off the spirit box and pausing my camera.
I left the ward and got Zak on the walkie. “Alright, I'm done.”
“'Kay I'm down in the basement if you wanna...WHAT THE FUCK?!”
“Zak?” He didn't answer. “ZAK!?” Still nothing. I sighed. “Dammit.”
I took off running.
Down in the basement Zak was looking around and shouting like a madman. “Zak what happened?! What's going on?!”
“There was a shadowing standing right fucking next to me,” he said. I looked around and sure enough a tall shadowy figured hovered behind him.
“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” I snapped at it.
“My, my...” it said smugly. “Aren't you an interesting specimen.”
“Leave us alone, now!” I said. It laughed. “I'm not fucking around! Leave and never return to this sacred ground.” He flinched at the words I've said more times than I would like.
“Foolish woman,” he laughed. “This place is anything but sacred.”
“It wasn't in your time,” I said walking towards a nearby wall. “But now...” I took my bottle of holy water and dabbed some onto my hand. I then drew a cross on the wall.
“Is that all you got?” the demon scoffed.
I smirked. “Lesson number one in haunting,” I said taking out my small switchblade. I made a small cut on my fore finger and drew a symbol on the wall above the cross. A symbol no demon could fight against. “Don't piss off a Nephilim.”
The empty pits where it's eyes once were widened and a loud roar erupted from its mouth.
“I, Y/N, the daughter of Michael send thee to the house of thy uncle Lucifer...may he not have mercy on your soul.” The ground opened up and the shadow was swallowed by a wall of flames. “I hate fucking demons,” I muttered once it was gone.
Zak looked at me in shock. “Is there really never gonna be a time when this doesn't surprise you?” I asked.
“Nope,” he said snapping out of it.
“You feeling okay?” I asked placing my hand on his cheek.
“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks...”
“Anytime,” I said pecking him on the cheek.
We continued investigating and got plenty of evidence that made sleeping not an option for the next year.
That night we were hold up in a hotel. I couldn't sleep so once I was showered and jammied up I went for a walk. So many different things ran through my mind and I tried to sort them out as best I could. But then I heard the shouting...
“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” Zak damn near roared. “For fucks sake!” I heard him cry.
I went up to his door and knocked furiously. “Zak it's me, let me in!”
“Not now Y/N,” he begged.
“Yes now,” I snapped at him. “I know there's someone there with you and I'm the only one who can help, so let me fucking in!”
A moment later the door opened and Zak stood there looking exhausted and just done with life. It was terrifying and heartbreaking. ..but it was nothing compared to what his friend looked like. It was a snarling beast with skin resembling that of a dried date; brown and shiny. It's arm was around Zak's neck, holding him in a choke-hold. “He is mine.” It said, it's voice deep and chilling.
“No,” I said. “No he fucking isn't!”
I wrapped my arms around Zak and the demon let go as though it had burned. “A daughter of Michael...why am I not surprised?”
“In the name of my father leave this place!” I demanded.
“Brave like your father...” It said. “Unfortunately you're as foolish as he is as well. Watch your back daughter of Michael for I am not the only one in this world and my brethren aren't as friendly as I...” Friendly. My. Ass.
“IN THE NAME OF MY FATHER LEAVE THIS PLACE YOU COCKAROACH LOOKING SHIT!” I demanded once more...this time he listened.
With the demon gone I pulled back. “It's gone.”
Zak nodded. “Which one was it?”
“I think it was one of the pests you picked up at Bobby Mackey's.” I explained helping him to his bed.
“I thought we got rid of all of them?” he asked.
“Yeah well it seems this conniving little fucker did a good job of hiding during the clean up,” I said. “You gonna be okay?”
“I think so,” he said. “But I'd still feel better if you stayed...if that's alright.”
“You don't even have to ask,” I said rubbing his back with my hand. “Jesus,” I gasped. “You're burning up!”
“I just had a hot shower...the tap might have been busted 'cause shit was that water scalding.” I rolled my eyes.
“It didn't burn you too bad did it?” I asked. He shrugged. “Alright off with the shirt.” He arched an eyebrow at me. “Not like that...I just wanna check for burns.”
He pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it aside. I crawled behind him on the bed and inspected his back. His skin was smooth, without so much as a scar. Even the tattoo on top was left unscathed. I leaned in and brought my lips to it. “You're good,” I said.
He turned around and our faces were suddenly closer than they've ever been. “Z-Zak?”
He said nothing...just leaned in and brought his lips to mine. So far in this brief life I've had four unforgettable nights.
The first was when I first met my dad when I was five. The second was when I found out what I was when I was thirteen...I felt at peace knowing everything I'd experienced finally made sense. The third was when I used my power to help the spirit of my best friend move on after a drunken asshole took her life. The fourth was the first time I went to Zak's house and gave him answers about the entities there.
And now...I was experiencing my fifth.
After a while Zak and I leaned back on the bed. His pants wound up joining his shirt, and eventually my clothes followed. I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight as he pushed into me. I gasped. Like the rest of him, his length was pretty... thick.
I whimpered as he moved inside me. Our skin slapped together and he grunted with almost every thrust. I don't know how much time had passed but eventually I tightened around him, my toes curling up. “ZAAAK!!!” I moaned as my whole body tensed up.
Zak thrust a few more time, each time becoming more sloppy. “FUCK!” He groaned as he filled me up. He collapsed beside me and eventually sleep overcame us.
“I love you,” I whispered just before I fell asleep.
The next morning I woke up needing very badly to pee. I tiptoed to the bathroom (not wanting to wake Zak) and relieved myself. When I got back Zak was sitting up with a confused look on his face.
“Zak?” I said sitting back down next to him.
He looked at me and tightened the blanket around his hips. “Y/N? WHAT THE FUCK?”
“What? What's wrong?”
“What's wrong? Are you fucking serious?” he said freaking out. “You're naked! FUCK, I'M NAKED! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?!”
“Y-You mean you don't remember?” I said suddenly feeling uneasy.
“I remember coming back to the room after the investigation. I-I remember the inhumanly hot shower...then I saw this..this thing...next thing I know I'm waking up naked and raw.” My unease grew.
“I-I don't under...” I suddenly saw a dark, leathery skinned figure standing beside Zak's side of the bed. It had a sickening smirk on it's face.
“My brother was right, daughter of Michael,” it snarled. “You really are foolish.”
Realization hit me like a truck.
“SON OF A-!”
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Tell Me Everything
Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3k
Summary: Reader works as a costume designer in Marvel. She's currently working on Endgame, designing the costumes for each superhero (but especially her favorite one), when Chris stops by. Later, he tries it on. Mutal pining goodness and fluff all throughout :)
Warnings: None :)
A/N: It’s been a while. I’ve written for chris once only, and I already miss it. Here’s some fluff.
Earphones plugged in deep in her ears, blocking every other sound apart from her music. The side of her hand is dirty with pencil lead, leaving occasional smudges on the paper that she forgets to erase. It’s- there’s a lingering fatigue she can’t really shake off. She’s beyond exhausted, working so late in the night, still in her office, but doing this, right here, it feels so damn good. It doesn’t matter that she should be heading home, because all her repressed creativity is bleeding in the paper, flowing as if it’s pouring out of her veins . Finally, finally , doing the thing she’s great at, the thing she loves.
Her music is deep, dark, has a strong but slow beat to it, and she bobs her head along, uncaring of the strands of hair that are furiously escaping her ponytail. She gets lost in the design, vigorously making swooping lines and hard edges, scribbling to her heart’s content, erasing a line and coming back in. The tedious process of adding details makes her settle just a little.
These past few years have been incredible. Working for Marvel was a dream she didn’t even know she’d had, the opportunity of a lifetime, truly. During the time spent working with all these amazing people, she’s learned, she’s grown, she’d developed as an artist and as a person. She can say nothing less than she’s happy, truly happy here. She means, designing and creating costumes for this franchise has been a job she couldn’t have even dreamt of. It may get tiresome, sometimes boring and tedious, but right now, designing… she feels like she’s been born to do this and just this.
It’s been a while since she’d gotten so lost in a design. It may be the fact that this particular one, and the actor that’s supposed to wear it, is her favorite. She may be biased. But she’d had amazing ideas and she was so eager to just make them come to life.
She’s coloring the last of the star in the center of the chest, when fingers tap her shoulder. Having been so lost in her work and music, she feels like someone poured a bucket of water over her without warning, and she jumps, pulling her earbuds out by their wire and swiveling her chair to look at the intruder.
Chris smiles down at her, all teeth and soft eyes. His hands are in the air flamboyantly, It’s me!, dark grey, long sleeved Henley loose on his biceps, and dark wash jeans hugging his thighs tightly. His hair is grown longer, tucked behind his ears, his beard is… new , and very nicely trimmed. Her heart thumps a little louder at the sight of him. If anyone were to ask, she’d blame the jumpscare, but she knows better.
“Chris!” Excitedly getting off her seat and throwing her arms around his shoulders in a friendly hug. His own wrap around her tightly, squeeze her to him, if only for a second, and she exhales.
“Hey!” He tells her, just as excitedly, and she pulls back. “I’m sorry I scared you, I knocked and there was no answer.” She waves a hand to show him it’s okay and plops back on her seat unceremoniously.
“What are you even doing here?! I thought the cast was gonna show up next week, for the fittings?” A strand tucked behind her ear and she’s suddenly kind of self-conscious of her disheveled state. Chris leans his hip on her desk and crosses his arms over his chest casually, looking like one of those bad boys in 2000’s coming-of-age rom-coms. She tries not to stare, but it’s a struggle, and a funny thought crosses her mind. If she were looking at him for the first time, he’d be screaming trouble. He still does, but less because he’s scary and a heartbreaker, and more because she’s hopeless when it comes to being functional around him.
“I had some business up here in New York, and the Russo’s asked me to drop by. Something about paperwork.” He shrugs lightly and she ‘ah’s, accompanied by a nod and a brief eyebrow twitch to show her understanding.
“Well, I’m happy you dropped by. It’s been a hot minute, hasn’t it,” she smiles at him, and Chris nods, a bit of an apologetic, regretful almost, look in his eye.
“So,” he says and shifts his weight a little, “whatcha working on?”
“You, actually.” Lead-stained fingers pull the sketchbook under the light a little better, closer to him, and he gets off his hip, places his left hand on the back of her chair, leaning all his weight on his right, on the desk. His chest is suddenly so close to her face, her shoulder brushes his torso and she’s holding her breath , because he smells so good –cologne and aftershave?- she might fucking faint . She can feel her face heat up. She wonders if he’s doing it on purpose, if he knows at all. She watches his expression.
“Waddaya got?” It’s all interest in his voice, and he doesn’t seem to intend to move. Damn.
“Well,” she takes a shaky breath, “I figured, y’know-“ a mindless shrug, and his shirt is exceptionally soft and fairly thin, two layers between their bare skin, and- oh gosh, she's supposed to be explaining things. Focus! “Cap needs a new suit, and he’s a fugitive now, right? He doesn’t really care to get a new one tailored.” Chris exhales a chopped, amused breath and nods sideways, as if saying You have a point there . “So the old one would have to do.
“But it’s different now, because he can’t have the same exact one, completely untouched, and he’s a different man now anyways.” Scooting the chair closer to the desk on instinct- and fucking great , now she’s literally pressing into the bottom of his ribcage lightly with her shoulder. It’s getting harder to breathe. She can feel his exhales on her face, Jesus. “So basically,” a steadying, shaky breath, “I made it dirtier- that’s why the colors are darker. It’s supposed to be aging fabric. But it’s also more comfortable for you.
“The sleeves will end right here-” without giving it much thought, she traces a line under his right elbow, the one on which he’s leaning, and he follows the motion with his gaze intently, “and you’ll wear some fingerless gloves with buckles on them.” He nods, eyes still not off her design, occasionally flicking to glance at her. “But,” she begins.
“The detail I’m most excited for is this,” a tap on the star in the middle of the uniform- or rather lack thereof. The space where the plastic white thing once resided is now dark blue like the rest of the uniform. She grins up at him when his features twitch in interest. “I pitched this to Joe and he really loved it. Basically, my logic is that, as we said, Cap’s a fugitive, yeah?” Chris nods, attentive as ever. “He’s gone against every government official he knows, against a big chunk of his own team. The news have probably said awful things about him and painted him as a superhero gone rogue or something. So what does he do? He rips off the star.
“He no longer fits the Captain America title, in the sense that he doesn’t want to be associated with the government’s lap dog, their dancing monkey. Instead of faithfully following orders as a soldier, he’s his own self, still a Captain, but on his own terms. It’s symbolic! He’s carving his own path, leading like he was always meant to, and he’s dramatic enough to have done this- ripped off the star I mean. The suit should feel more familiar to him now.”
She’s been rambling for a while, her mouth is drier, but she was so excited when the idea manifested in her head. A big sense of pride washed over her, she couldn’t wait to design and implement it in the costume.
And Chris, well… Chris is looking at her with this small little smile that grows the more he considers it. “I…” he shakes his head, a grin stretching his pretty lips, “I fucking love it,” he tells her, with so much genuine warmth in his tone. She’s never heard him this confident and proud , like a parent almost, glowing at her like she’s something brighter than a star. “That’s brilliant , Y/n, holy shit ! The fans will go nuts!” He leans close to inspect the design again with the new parameters in mind, shaking his hand as if disbelieving, smile remaining on his face. “You’re amazing .”
A hot, red blush spreads across her cheeks fiercely, and there’s a lingering urge to sit up straighter, to square her shoulders in pride and happiness, because she’s so happy he liked it¸ but she is now acutely aware of how close he is, still not having moved away from her since she pressed into him accidentally. She resorts to a one shouldered shrug. “Thank you,” her voice is meeker than she’d like it, but Chris doesn’t mention it. Instead, they share a smile.
=
“Ready?”
“I’m, unf, gimme a sec- I’m coming.” Some shuffling, and then the sound of the curtain being pulled back, and she puts her phone away, swiveling in her chair and- oh Christ.
“Chris… ” she says, eyes racking from the tops of his shoes, up his legs, his thighs, his belt. The way the comfortable material stretches over his fit stomach, up his curved chest, and extends up to the base of his neck- it’s, fuck, he looks so good. His veiny forearms are exposed to the warm lamp light in the room, and he’s not wearing the gloves, seeing as they’re sitting on her desk.
The dark blue of his suit makes his newly dyed hair look golden .
“How do I look?” He says with a grin, striking an exuberant pose just to make her smile, and she grins.
“I’ll give you like,” she pretends to think for a second, “a six out of ten.” A shrug and a bitten back smile, and his hand goes to his chest dramatically, thick eyebrows furrowing and blowing out a breath.
“Damn,” he tells her with a look in his eyes that she can’t really place, something teasing, but like they're sharing an inside joke of some kind. “Harsh critic,” it’s teasing and happy, and she chuckles, because yeah. This is quite perfect. She grabs his gloves off her desk and gets off her chair, going up to him and holding them for him to squeeze his hands in. She tightens some buckles, smooths a hand over the leathery material, making non-existent creases disappear.
A step back, she inspects the way the material hugs his thighs so nicely, but is also still baggy, to give him some freedom of movement. His boots are almost knee high, and- it actually looks like it might be a bit tight in the neck. She steps closer to him, barely tests the two buckles in front of his shoulders, checking that there’s give for him to move in. “It’s good? Comfortable, I mean?” A finger dragged between the collar of his top and his neck, purely professionally she swears, it was a subconscious move to check how much space there is for him to breathe and move his neck. And that’s the moment stupid Chris chooses to hum and she feels it in the exhale hitting her face, the vibration of his throat.
God .
Her lips purse and she squints a little, pulling back her hand. I can make this better , she decides. “Don’t move,” she orders and heads to her desk, grabbing some needle and a thread that matches the color of his suit, along with a small blade. She walks back up to him again and, with a careful hand on his chest and the threaded needle carefully placed between her lips, she makes a few, strategically placed rips near the star with the blade.
“Don’t stab me,” he says, tone low for a reason she can’t understand but makes a shiver run through her.
“Don’t give me ideas,” she counters, and Chris’s stomach shakes a little with a short, contained laugh. Continuing, she distresses the fabric, and patches up the edges so they won’t tear further during filming, allowing a string or two to stick out.
She is absolutely, of course, not ignoring how she can feel every single one of his breaths, and how he’s so good and still, and his hands are only a handful of inches away from her waist, his face hellishly close to hers.
A released exhale and a nod to herself. “Perfect,” she says quietly. She wraps the threaded needle around the handle of the blade so as to not lose it and throws it back on her desk haphazardly, to put away later. Unmoving from her spot near him, she gazes at the rips and decides it was a good addition. For just a second, it seems she forgets exactly how close he is, and now she looks up to him for approval, finding that same intent stare, straight into her soul from only three inches away.
There’s a sudden urge to shrink and disintegrate, confidence gone. Clothes she can handle. Chris she really can’t.
Baby blue eyes are watching her, standing perfectly still for her to do her thing, but there’s a, dare she say , affection of sorts in his gaze, and she’s very much struck with it. “You look great, Cap’n,” breathy and quiet, because she can’t fucking sit in silence when he looks at her like that. Chris smiles.
“All thanks to you.” A grin at the praise, at the lowered tone of his voice, as if he doesn’t want to break the moment with loud words. She should step back, b- but she physically cannot. Her muscles are seriously unwilling to move. This is her being weird, right? She’s crossing a line by taking advantage of his proximity, right? Why- He’s not showing any signs of awkwardness or discomfort though.
She’d like to know how one stretches a moment to eternity, a piece of knowledge she'd most certainly use right now. His cologne is the same as last week, when he visited in her office, comforting and musky, and he’s- he’s just looking at her with his beautiful eyes boring into hers, his warmth just centimeters away.
“You’re very close to me,” what a stupid thing to say , she scolds herself, but she just- she doesn’t know what else to do. Is it normal to feel such heat radiate from his body, or is that her mind playing tricks? She wants to curl into him, into said warmth, bury her nose in his neck and nuzzle there. It’s an urge that hits her like a tidal wave, and it almost makes her stagger on her feet. Her heart beats faster, inflated and full, adrenaline coursing through her veins all of a sudden. Chris swallows a little and nods. “What are you gonna do about it?”
There’s almost no charm in his tone, he looks borderline nervous, but there’s still some confidence in his velvety voice for him to flirt with her, the bastard and- she’s not imagining this, right? She’s not dreaming or anything? Chris actually enjoys this proximity, this closeness, he’s not pulling away. He just- he just sort of gave her consent to do something, anything. The ball is in her court, a challenge, proving she actually can do something about this.
With a shaky hand, she presses her palm flat on his chest.
A mental barrier is broken by that touch and Chris seems to curl closer, if possible. His gloved hand goes to her waist, holding her near him, his head dipping lower, and she’s standing on her tiptoes. Noses brushing together, a challenge, emphasized in the teasing curl of his lips, sharing the same air. Beard tickling her top lip as she inches closer. A small hand on his face, and she licks her lips instinctively, parts them a little- and closes the gap between them.
It’s soft and wet and everything she’s ever dreamt of really, and holy shit , she’s dreamt of this. It’s actually happening, right now. He’s in his dumb Captain America uniform, pulling her close so now their chests are pressed together, moving his lips against hers slowly, and his hands are in leather gloves with buckles on them. The thought makes her smile a little, to the point where now the kiss is all teeth, and he pulls back for a second, as if sensing her amusement.
“What?” he asks. Her forehead leans on his chest, a sad attempt to hide her grin. His arms, one wrapping around her waist, his other hand on her back.
“I’m kissing Captain America,” and Chris lets out a single, incredulous breath, eyes rolling to the back of his head as if to say, you’re unbelievable. She grins up at him, a challenging eyebrow raised. Am I wrong though?
Teeth trap her bottom lip and she worries it for a moment as they quiet again, lost in thought and looking at him absently. She wants to kiss him again. She likes how his hands are warm on her back, how his chest is lean under her. Leaning on her tiptoes again, she smiles softly and brushes her nose on his cheek affectionately, because it’s suddenly okay to do so, the hairs of his beard scratchy against her skin. Chris is not having it though, and he turns his head to capture her lips again.
It feels so good, she thinks, as she instinctively places gentle fingers on his jawline to keep him tilted to her. It’s like the world is blooming. Like her heart is bursting through the seams, chest far too small for it. She kisses him, and he holds her just this much closer.
She’s kissing Captain America. And it’s a damn good fucking kiss.
Tags: @thegetawaywriter
#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader#chris evans x fem!reader#chris#chris fanfiction#chris fluff#chris evans fluff#chris evans one shot#mcu#mabel#captain america#steve rogers#ca:tfa#ca:tws#ca:cw#mcu rpf#:)
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May 7, 2021: TRON (1982)
Starting to leave lo-fi sci-fi with this one.
Can I just say, I am VERY excited for this one. Mostly because it’s hard to get more ‘80s than this movie, specifically in terms of computers. I’ll explain. Y’know Jurassic Park? Yeah, the same movie I’ve brought up far, FAR too many times this month. Is...is that my favorite sci-fi movie? Shit, it might be? I’ve read the books, I’ve seen the movie COUNTLESS times...I’m pretty sure it is! Huh. Go figure. Anyway, where was I?
Oh, right! Remember the most irritating character in the movie? This is, in my opinion, older sister Lex Murphy. In the book, for the record, she’s a VERY different character. She’s the youngest sibling amongst the two, and she’s a sports nerd who hates dinosaurs. And she’s also the most annoying character in the book, so at least they kept that consistent. However, you may be saying to yourself: “Jesus, this dude really loves Jurassic Park. Even in the intro for Tron, he’s talking about it. Why the hell does he keep bringing it up?”
Well, allow me to explain. When I was 9 years old, I was super into two things: dinosaurs and reading. You may think that I wasn’t very popular in school as a result. And the truth won’t surprise you. Anyway, on January 3rd, 2001, it was a cold morning in the supermarket when
...OK, lemme get to the point. IT’S A UNIX SYSTEM!
See, this moment when Lex hacks into the computer to reactivate the locks (a task given to Tim in the book, but whatever) does two things. One, it makes Lex relevant in a film and story where she’s almost entirely unneeded. And two, it established something in the minds of movie-watchers everywhere: a completely misguided idea of what computer programming is.
And this is just one of MANY examples of Hollywood weirdly representing computers to the public. This was kind of a trend throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s, as computers were beginning to become available to the public. Examples are:
WarGames (1983), dir. John Badham
Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991), dir. James Cameron
Revenge of the Nerds (1984), dir. Jeff Kanew
Weird Science (1985), dir, John Hughes
Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), dir. Russo Bros
That last one isn’t a great example, and it’s not even within the right time period. I just love Arnim Zola, and he NEEDS TO RETURN to the MCU. Goddamn it, I want this guy back, complete with his full robot body! COME ON FIEGE, LOOK AT THIS GUY! That last one may or may not be my fanart for the character with my own design NEVERTHEGODDAMNLESS!
Look, all you gotta do is connect the various machinations of Arnim Zola to the foundations of AIM, which is easy given their link in the comics. Zola and his fellow Paperclip scientists helped fund Aldrich Killian’s AIM, and the project to give Zola his sick-ass robot body eventually wound up being a part of the project that would create the hovering robotic chair used by this guy.
THIS IS ALL I’VE EVER WANTED PLEASE
...Ahem.
Anyway, the weird-ass ways that Hollywood’s represented computers, hacking, and all other associated things can be traced back to 1982, when the first film to use mostly computer generated imagery for its setting was created. This was, of course, Disney’s TRON. And while I haven’t seen it before...I’ve see its sequel in theaters?
On a related note, Tron Legacy might be a mediocre film with a mediocre soundtrack, but GODDAMN DO IT LOVE THE FUCKING VISUALS. It’s genuinely my favorite aesthetic. That whole “outlined in light” thing? Goooooooh, BABY, how I love it.
Style over substance, but OH THE FUCKING STYLE
Anyway, despite that, I’m looking forward to seeing where the whole thing came from. I dig that style, too. Is there a name for those aesthetics? Let me know, so I can devote my life to it forever. Anyway, shall we get started?
SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
Recap
So, we start this movie off with a BANG, jumping into an arcade where two kids are playing none other than Lightcycle, and jumping into said Lightcycles to meet one of the drivers, Sark (David Warner). A sadistic program, he takes great pleasure in executing programs in Lightcycle races.
One of these programs, in fact, is being brought into imprisonment now, to be set against Sark in a race. The program, Crom (Peter Jurasik), speaks with fellow prisoner Ram (Dan Shor), where we get some idea of the lore of this place. Many programs believe in “the Users”, god-like figures who they believe created them and tell them what to do. However, the mysterious Master Control Program is rounding up the programs that believe in Users, taking over their functions or executing them. Diggin’ the lore so far.
In the real world, we meet Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges), a computer programmer commanding his own program, Clu (also Bridges), and...look, I’m not sure what they’re doing, but OHHH. IT’S A UNIX SYSTEM, BABY. The beautiful bullshit that this movie uses to denote computer activity and programming, it’s...MMMMMMMMMCHEF’SKISS, it’s so FUCKING GOOD!
Anyway, Clu’s apparently being sent to find some information, but he’s caught by Master Control. Jeff Bridges shows off some pretty over-the-top acting, but it’s charming as hell. Clu’s interrogated by Master Control Program (also Warner), and killed, or “derezzed”. This frustrates Flynn, but why?
Well, we get a clue from MCPs concentration with Ed Dillinger (David Warner), who arrives at his office in the COOLEST FUCKING HELICOPTER I HAVE EVER SEEN. I will never make enough money to have this helicopter, but maybe one day I can do it to a car, holy shit. Anyway, Dillinger lands and enters the ENCOM building, where he speaks with his computer table, which contains MCP.
Is this a thing with computer programmers? Do they, like, physically talk to their programs, and the programs talk back? Is this a thing that happens? Are the conversations interesting? Are IT people literally computer-whisperers? I gotta talk to my friends in computer sciences and IT about this.
Apparently, Flynn’s been snooping around their servers for a specific file, and they’re trying to stop him from getting that file. Meanwhile, in an office in the building, a man named Alan Bradley (Bruce Boxleitner) is blocked out of the system in an attempt to flush out Flynn’s location. Bradley’s summoned to the office for what seems like a routine interview, but is actually more of an investigation. Doesn’t go anywhere.
On a side note, by the way, it would appear that MCP is somewhat in control of Dillinger. Although, how and why is unknown. In any case, he’s attempting to amass power. Additionally, the fact that he’s directly speaking to one of the Users is...interesting. And on a second side note, Bradley is preparing something, a security program called “Tron”. That might come up later.
MEANWHILE, elsewhere in the building, a group of scientists are conducting an experiment to digitize solid matter and transport it into computers. It succeeds with an orange, much to their delight and celebration. One of these scientists is Lora Baines (Cindy Morgan), Flynn’s ex-girlfriend and Alan’s current girlfriend. They go to the arcade to reconvene with Flynn, much to Alan’s irritation.
Flynn not only owns the place, he’s also a game whiz, brilliant computer programmer, and recently fired ex-employee of ENCOM. He’s also been sneaking into the ENCOM system, and he details exactly why he’s moving against them. While working for ENCOM, he had started writing programs for some very complex video games, which could’ve have made him quite a bit of money. But Dillinger stole his files, and uses it to climb up the ranks to Senior Executive of ENCOM, while Flynn lounges in relative poverty. He’s planning on getting into the system to get evidence of Dillinger’s wrongdoing.
The trio plots to take down Dillinger and get the evidence together, breaking into ENCOM that night. Meanwhile, Dillinger’s meeting with Walter Gibbs (Barnard Hughes), a co-founder of the company, and one of the other scientists who made the digitizing machine. Dillinger says YOUR TIME IS OVER OLD MAN, and brushes off his concerns about he’s handing the company.
He’s not the only one with issues, as MCP decides to take over FOR Dillinger. Apparently, Dillinger’s talents are stealing data and creating Cybernet/HAL 9000. Good job, buddy. But that may end, when Alan goes to finish and install his program, Tron, which will hopefully take MCP down. Meanwhile, Lora and Flynn go to the basement with the digitizing machine. At the computer terminal, MCP decides to stop Flynn by...well, you know where this is headed.
Yup! Flynn’s brought into the computer by Lora’s machine, and is digitized and put into the game grid. And since we’ll be spending a lot of time there, I think I need to acknowledge something: I really love how this movie looks. The CGI is rudimentary, but it’s used surprisingly well. Consider that this is also made in an era where this is the kind of imagery that computers could literally generate at the time, and you’ve got a pretty great movie in-context.
Flynn, now in those spiffy program duds, is sent by the MCP to compete in the Game Grid, under Sark’s supervision and tutelage. He’s thrown into the brig with the other imprisoned programs, where he learns more about this world. Once brought into the throes of the Game Grid, he’s told that those who believe in the Users are to be trained poorly, ensuring their inevitable death. Meanwhile, those who renounce their belief will be spared. And of all the programs who still believe in the Users, there is none quite as powerful...as Tron (Bruce Boxleitner again).
We see Tron’s badass skills in Ultimate Frisbee. And OK, it’s not Ultimate Frisbee, but you throw discs that contain all of your essence and all of the things you’ve learned in your time there. You basically pour your entire essence and being into the disc as you throw it. So, really, it is Ultimate Frisbee, according to that one dude who’s REALLY into Ultimate Frisbee.
Flynn is commanded to play one of these games, and he winds fairly easily. However, when he defeats his opponent, he’s almost about to die. However, Flynn refuses to finish him off, leading Sark to do so instead. And Sark is tempted to kill Flynn as well, but he holds off at the last moment.
Flynn finally gets to meet Tron, where he feigns being a program that knows of his User, Alan. Of course, Tron looks exactly like Alan, which is why Flynn blurts out his name. But as they’re discussing this, Flynn, Tron, and fellow prisoner Ram are sent to compete in the Lightcycles. And, yes, I’m now looking for a game like this on my phone, because GODDAMN to I love Lightcycles. Can’t WAIT for the Disney World ride, oh my GOOOOD.
So, our guys get in the Lightcycles, and they outmaneuver Sark’s guys. They’re actually able to escape the arena and the Game Grid, making it outside the citadel. They encounter a, uh, bitstream, and soak up some energy before moving on. On the way, though, they’re nearly killed by Sark’s guys in tanks, and Tron is separated from Flynn an the unconscious Ram.
Flynn and Ram finds a place to rest and hide, and Flynn discovers that, as a User, he actually has the ability to somewhat manipulate the reality within the computer, and he makes a version of MCPs ships, the Recognizers, which resemble the villains in Flynn’s game that Dillinger stole. Now realizing that Flynn is a user, Ram asks him to help Tron, before dying and disappearing into pure code. Whoof.
Tron, meanwhile, ends up finding an input/output program named Yori (Cindy Morgan), who helps him in his escape. She takes him through the city, where we see some interesting designs for control programs, almost like a Hunger Games Panem sort of deal.
Flynn has trouble driving his ship, as he meets a “bit”, a small bit of data that only answers in yes or no. He, too, ends up in the city, and you start to notice that this film has a really heavy influence in our cyberpunk concepts and fashions today. Honestly, I really dig this whole thing. Kevin uses his programming powers to disguise himself as one of Sark’s guards, while Yori and Tron find their way through the main citadel of the guards.
They make their way through to the access tower, where they ask the program Dumont (Barnard Hughes again) to let them access the interface that will allow them to speak with the Users, specifically Alan. Reluctantly, Dumont agrees to let Tron through, where he goes to the access port. Which, for the record, looks awesome. He goes to speak with Alan, and he does that one pose. Y’know, the famous Tron pose that’s on the poster?
Yeah, that’s the good stuff. Anyway, he gets information written onto his disc that’ll allow him to kill MCP. Neat. And unfortunately, that’s exactly when Sark and his guys show up, taking Dumont away as Tron and Yori escape. Yori gets them onto a Solar Sailer, a device that will transport them to the central computer. Tron fends off some of Sark’s guys with video game noise kicks, and the Solar Sailer arrives to take them away.
Sark chases after them, but the pair manage to outrun his very cool-looking ship. MCP threatens to destroy Sark for his failure, but he promises that he’ll be able to get them. On the ship, Tron looks down at the side to see Flynn hanging on. Turns out that he was one of the guards that attacked the two. Tron pulls him up onto the ship, and Flynn reveals that he is, in fact, a user. He also reveals that Users aren’t exactly the gods that programs believe them to be.
Anyway, how’s Dumont doing?
Ah.
Well, the Recognizers find Tron, Yori, and Flynn, and chase after them on the light beam the Solar Sailer is on. However, with his User powers, Flynn manages to get the Sailer onto a different beam, while pulses on the original beam destroy the Recognizers.
Doesn’t end up mattering much, though, as Sark finally catches up and intercepts the group. The Solar Sailer is destroyed, and Yori and Flynn are thrown in the brig with Dumont, who’s still alive! Can’t say quite as much for Tron, apparently. But, again, I can only assume that Ton is still alive. We’ll see, though. Sark denies Flynn’s identity as a User for some reason (I mean, MCP told you who he was, but OK), and he sentences them all to death. Outside the ship, of course, is Tron, who’s hiding and waiting for the right time to strike. And that is when we finally see him.
Glorious. Absolutely goddamn glorious. MCP is taking the remaining programs that believe in Users, Dumont included, and incorporating them into his mass. Meanwhile, Sark has found Tron, and the two are fighting with a classic game of Ultimate Frisbee. Tron nearly defeats Sark entirely, but MCP revives him, and gives him the power to take out Tron. He grows gigantic, and it looks genuinely really convincing.
Flynn prepares to take out MCP once and for all, and kisses Yori just beforehand, which is weird as shit. He jumps into the program, and controls it just long enough for Tron to throw his disc at it and land the finishing blow. And with that, MCP is ended, and the threat of take over is gone! The I/O towers light up, and the Video Warriors have won! Don’t ask me what that means, I study birds.
And with ALL OF THAT DONE, Flynn gets the proof he needs from a print-out that, to be honest, I feel like he could’ve just typed up himself. It doesn’t look like that much. But, still, MCP is gone, Dillinger’s screwed, and Flynn now gets a cool-looking helicopter of his own, as the new CEO of ENCOM. And from there, he will become a deadbeat dad that abandons his kid to live in computers forever. Or something like that, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Tron Legacy.
And that’s Tron, a goofy movie of its time, but one that’s a lot of fun all the same. And with some effects that, to be honest...I actually really liked! But more on that...IN THE REVIEW! See you there!
#tron#tron 1982#steven lisberger#jeff bridges#bruce boxleitner#david warner#cindy morgan#barnard hughes#science fiction may#sci-fi may#user365#365 movie challenge#365 movies 365 days#365 Days 365 Movies#365 movies a year#useranimusvox#userbrittany
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Hi. Hello! Original Punk!Duncan anon here to say you absolutely killed me with that fic. So freaking good! I loved it!! I wouldn’t say no to a part 2 where he finally gets her back to his place and gives her the night of life. Who knows maybe they find out they actually really like each other and wanna make it a regular thing.... 👀
First of all, I’m so sorry this took so long! Secondly, I’m so sorry this part is so long! Thirdly, I’m sorry there’s zero character development here but… these two needed a few happy endings. This definitely isn’t the last we’ll be seeing of punk!Duncan x punk!reader so by all means send me what you want these two to get up to next 🖤🖤🖤
read part one here
“Whoa, easy tiger—“
Duncan popped up from between your glistening thighs, clear droplets forming on his lip ring and his front spikes glued to his forehead, bowing weakly beneath the sheer volume of liquid you’d assaulted him with.
“What’s the matter, gorgeous?” Duncan spluttered, completely oblivious to your feverishly shaking legs draped over his shoulders, your chest heaving uncontrollably and your eyes fluttering manically.
His firm palm had pinned you down and pounded you through two more overwhelming orgasms on the back seat of his Camaro, soaking the leather beneath your thighs and leaving the top of his shabby cut-off Black Flag shirt so sodden, it was clinging to every delicious curve of his chest.
“I—is overstimulation your thing?” You queried through an exhausted stutter, hips jerking as his soft breaths against your swollen folds sent shockwaves through your body. “Because you’re really—“
“Oh fuck,” his hands flew into a mid-air surrender, his cheeky smirk melting into a look of concern. “I’m so sorry baby, are you okay?”
“I’m okay, it’s just… I’ve never felt like this before.”
Something about this mysterious stranger allowed you to be completely honest with him. You’d never squirted before, least of all three times in a row. What’s more, you’d never hooked up with someone who selflessly dipped between your legs and prioritised making you feel good for what felt like hours.
So selflessly, he was practically bursting his tight black jeans. In fact, he looked like he was bursting them even when he wasn’t rock hard and desperately rutting against thin air.
“Then let’s get you home,” Duncan sighed, planting reassuring palms on your dripping thighs and smiling warmly through his lust-blown haze.
“What if I don’t want to go back home, Shepherd?” You shot a bemused glance at him beneath quirked eyebrows.
“Oh babe, I wasn’t talking about your home.”
You could’ve sworn everybody heard your sigh of relief and nervous laughter well over the cacophony of incoherent Fugazi-esque tones booming from the venue beside you.
“Then I’ll strike a deal with you. Get in the front seat and look through your keys,” you hummed contentedly as you reached out to cup his straining length through his jeans. “And I’ll keep you busy.”
Duncan cleared his throat and his hungry eyes nearly leapt from their sockets.
“Well—that’d be… yeah, I can roll with that.” The determination in his complacent tone spoke all the words he failed to weave together as he clambered back into the front seat. Your gaze fixed on his impossibly tight pants curving in front of you — how he looked this perfect after you squirted over him three times was beyond your comprehension.
Your legs may not have fully regained composure by the time you flung two fragile thighs over into the passenger seat. If your first attempt at this challenge was ungraceful, this time was even more embarrassing. Luckily, Duncan was too busy unbuckling his studded belt and yanking his zipper down to notice you staggering into the chair.
“You sure about this?” He politely checked as he fished the jangling car keys from his pocket.
“Shut it and get searching, Duncan,” you hummed, battling past his boxers and freeing his length with a groan escaping his lips.
“This girl really knows how to pussywhip me already,” Duncan moaned, his head throwing back into the headrest as your fingertips curled around his girth.
Teasing him for that remark, your lips parted gently as you tickled the tip of his cock with your tongue. His bucking hips and low growl suggested he got the message, swiftly followed by the jangling of his keys as he resumed the epic search for any way to get home.
“Good boy,” you muttered before licking a slow, flat stripe up from his base, agonisingly teasing his length as he twitched in your grasp.
“Fuck me,” Duncan yelped, metal clanking against metal in his hands. “I’m never gonna find this fucking key like this.”
“Try the big one, big guy,” you muttered with a chuckle, suddenly wrapping your lips over his tip and sliding down over his length in one swift motion. Duncan’s back arched intently in his seat, the leather creaking beneath him as he writhed.
“Ah, there you are, you motherfucker,” Duncan exclaimed, a celebratory jangle of his keys filling the car before he flicked the ignition and the engine purred loudly. “Fucking finally!”
Giggling in the back of your throat as your nose nudged his abdomen, you flattened your tongue and sucked lightly as you bobbed down on his cock. Duncan’s arm brushed over your back to reach the stick shift, returning to rest comfortably on your spine as he yanked the car into gear and pulled off.
“Right, two blocks and I’m—oh Jesus fuck,” Duncan cursed as his foot slammed the pedal to the floor. “Two blocks and I’m all yours, baby doll.”
The swaying motion as the car swung impatiently around a corner helped you take his length further down the back of your throat. Swirling your tongue as you withdrew until his tip held temptingly within your lips, Duncan’s hand wandered to the back of your choker, his unusually soft fingers gently curling beneath the leather. With his next broken gasp as you took him down again, his subtle grip suddenly tightened, pulling back against your throat just hard enough to wake up your gag reflex and hollow out your cheeks.
“That’s it, baby,” Duncan praised, turning another sharp corner at a furious pace. “We’re almost there—mother of fuck you take me so well.”
You hummed contentedly as you bumped your nose into his abdomen, the revving engine trying its hardest to drown out both you, the slick sliding of your lips over his flushed cock and Duncan’s gratuitous moans.
“Oh my god,” he whimpered weakly, spinning around one final corner before yanking the handbrake and clasping both hands behind your head. “I’m gonna cum—“
His last syllable crashed through the silence as a blissful cry, his cock twitching furiously against your tongue as he reached his climax, shooting straight down the back of your throat as his hips bucked into your lips. Retreating from his tip and making an audible gulp, Duncan moaned even louder.
“You swallow too?” He half-chuckled in disbelief. “You’re quickly becoming my dream girl, babe.”
———
By some miracle, Duncan’s apartment elevator arrived immediately and he ushered you in with a hand gently hovering just beside your ass. Firing him a seductive smirk as you spun around in the mirrored cubicle, the blinding white lights highlighted the dried tracks of your arousal streaking down his face. Failing to stifle a laugh and a slightly mocking point at his face, Duncan faux-scowled at you while automatically slicking back his now-drooping spikes.
“What’s so funny, punk?” He jibed before checking himself out in the mirror. “Holy shit, you ruined me!”
“You’re more than welcome, Mr Shepherd,” you taunted with a grin, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss as he pressed the button for his floor.
This time, his kiss was different. His lips held onto yours protectively, almost lovingly, like he couldn’t stand to part from your soft touch. His hands delicately cupped your face as he pulled you in closer, his nose ring streaking a cool metallic sensation against yours.
Duncan felt safe with you. Understood by you. The world he knew shunned him for who he was, pretended he was stuck in some immature cultural phase that would soon morph into refined three-piece suits and expensive boots. What they didn’t know was just how expensive Doc Martens are these days.
“Fuck this,” Duncan broke the silence as he slammed a palm against the elevator console, drawing the motion to an abrupt halt. You simply giggled against his lips and kissed him deeper — the punk in your arms really wasn’t in a patient mood tonight.
Slowly stepping you back against the mirror, one wide hand eagerly surged up your skirt and meandered through the shredded streaks of your tights, sweeping your soaking panties to one side. The other, less impatient hand withdrew his rock hard length from his boxers once again and wasted no time lining himself up with your entrance.
“I’ve wanted to do this all goddamn night,” Duncan husked as he dipped into the nape of your neck, peppering cool lip ring kisses as he hooked your thigh around his hip. “You ready, baby girl?”
A delirious nod was all the confirmation he needed to ease himself through your dampened folds, seating his length inside you with one swift curl of his hips as you both cried out in unison.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Duncan growled into the shell of your ear as he set a steady pace rocking into you, revelling in the way you melted into him. “At this rate—Jesus—I’m not gonna last long.”
“Dunc, I—“
Not half an hour ago, Duncan’s relentless onslaught on your core left you a shaking, stuttering mess and it seemed your body hadn’t quite recovered. As your trembling leg threatened to give way beneath you, Duncan jolted forward you press you closer to the wall and swept your thigh around his waist to mirror the other.
“I’ve got you baby,” Duncan cooed softly, striking a contrast with the increasing speed of his hips crashing against yours.
“You’ve got me so—you’ve got me so deep,” you whimpered as your eyes widened against the rising pressure within you, Duncan’s tip relentlessly grazing your most sensitive spot. Digging your nails into the smooth leather of his jacket, you let a pornographic moan pour from your tongue as your walls fluttered around his length.
“Jesus fuck you say the hottest things,” Duncan growled, burying himself deep inside you as his cock twitched vigorously, spilling against your walls with a gratuitous grunt accompanied each final thrust.
“There is,” you stuttered through laboured breaths, palms flat to his chest as his heart raced against you. “Nothing more punk than fucking in a broken down elevator.”
“Too fucking right,” Duncan bumped his dripping forehead against yours to laugh with you. “You still wanna come up?”
His piercing eyes met yours with a curious hope, smiling broadly against your lips.
“Of course, Dunc,” you sighed before kissing him deeply. “I’ve got an early start though, so I’ll have to sneak out before you’re up.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Duncan scoffed, tapping away at the console to start the elevator moving yet refusing to break his gaze into your eyes, into your soul. “Who do you work for? I’ll call them first thing, tell them there’s a lucrative collaboration with the Shepherd Foundation on the cards for their leniency with you for a little later start.”
“I don’t think that’ll work,” you laughed nervously, buckling your bondage belt behind you — a specific talent only a seasoned punk can complete all by herself.
“Why not, babe? Do you work for the CIA or some shit?” He cracked, reluctantly zipping his jeans knowing full well they’d be coming straight off once you made it to his floor. “Are you gonna arrest me for fucking you too hard?”
“Not quite.”
“Well where could you possibly work that would frown on a decent, upstanding gentleman such as myself, Duncan Shepherd, calling in for his girl?”
His girl. Was that the fucked out haze talking? As the elevator pinged to signal your arrival at his floor, you cleared your throat nervously and glanced down to your feet.
“The White House.”
#punk!duncan#punk!duncan x reader#duncan shepherd x reader#duncan shepherd fanfiction#duncan shepherd smut#duncan shepherd imagines#duncan shepherd#house of cards
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True Faith (Part 1.) (Favored Ones, Part 17.)
Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?
Quote for the chapter: “I feel so extraordinary... Something's got a hold on me.” - Lotte Kestner
Part summary: Many could feel that something’s in the air when Ellie started to drift away from the reality. And the only thing that could save her and put stop to all of these thoughts was you.
A/N: Okay, okay. I know I am going against the cannon game now, because Seatlle happened at the end of March of 2038, but trust me, this slower pace will pay off in the end. And boy, does it feel good to jump back to TLOU fandom.
Warnings: Gore, angst, description of hatred and other mental states.
Word count: 3.2 K
Tagging: @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme @peakymarvels @davnwillcome @pickleriiick @jodiereedus22 @gladiosamicitias @tamkashi @eternallyvenus @avengerssstuff @fangirl-inthe-us @avery-miller @mikah-writes @mad-hatter-98 @sadiaafrin99 @flavorishy
Series master list: H E R E
Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E
Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS
"I've seen what happened down there, sugar." - A voice resonated through the darkness, suddenly. It seemed as if you were somewhere deep underwater. There were this cracking sounds inside of your head, making your ears ache, yet the burden you were feeling in your heart was way worse than that. But the voice was sharp, almost deafening. And sadly, you wouldn't change the voice with anyone else's. It felt nice, but horrifying at the same time to hear her. - "How are you holdin' up, hm? You're still sure you'll outrun me in a race?"
Slowly, you took a breath in, looking around you as you stood there. It was the fucking pottery shop you've been in, the one you've visited her in a thousand times. The one you remembered by your heart. And your heart was sinking low when you saw her... Just sitting there. As if she never actually left you in Jackson alone. She was looking at the machine in front of her, making a mug out of scratch. Just like the last time you've had a proper conversation with the lady. Well... You've spoken at the hospital, but... The pottery shop reminded you of Eve the most.
"Given how your leg looks like, I suppose you ain't be runnin' for quite a long time, honey." - The woman smiled at one of her creations, slowly taking it to her palm as she started to draw another of her flowers on it.
"You're dead, you know that, right?" - You answered in a joking manner. Jesus, they must've given you some darn good drugs for you to reach such a state. No matter if it were the soldiers or Bobby, they did hella good job. - "I've been talking to your tombstone for the last few months." - At that, Eve gave you a nasty grin, tapping the side of her head with her index finger.
"As long as you're aware of it, I know it. You're not so dumb that you'd make out this is real, huh?" - The woman asked you with a light chuckle at the end, leaning her back into the chair. Sure, it was obvious that you're talking to yourself. But your brain didn't want to syke you out, even more, to present you sitting... Somewhere. It could be also Joel or Ellie whom your brain would choose to project... But it was her. - "I thought that. But really, Miller? You, sugar, are surprisin' me even when I'm dead, I tell you that."
"You've caught a few words from Tommy and Joel here and there, but you never spoke like a Texas-born woman." - You answered instead of straight answering the lady. At that, she chuckled, shook her head, and looked at you. She seemed... Different. As if she got younger. She had fewer wrinkles and her eyes were full of life.
"I'm just what you've made of me, you know? This is how you remember me now. So thanks for agein' me down a bit. Also, the accent suits me, huh?" - The woman said. Technically yeah, you said to yourself, but that wasn't the subject of the conversation at the moment. - "That's what you wanted, hm? And I can understand that. Have my wrinkly face on your mind all the time... It would sadden me too." - She joked around, making you sadden at the statement. That was exactly what you wanted to happen. And until that point, it was working. But now, you wanted to remember Eve just the way she was, with all her wrinkles, grins and jokes.
"Do you realize... That if you wouldn't go on the patrol with Tommy... Then maybe, the man you've fallen in love with would be dead? Most likely?" - Eve leaned her head to her shoulder, sending you a concerned look.
"What good does it bring when I'm most likely dead?" - You asked back immediately. The imagination inside your head chuckled, looking away for a moment. - "If you'd be dead, sugar, we wouldn't be havin' this conversation at all. Dyin', yeah, sure, maybe, but dead? Hell no." - The woman dismissed with a dry chuckle, getting up on her legs to pour herself a glass of water.
"What now?" - Eve asked you, looking out of the window into the void around the pottery shop. For a moment, you were looking at her back, and because she knew you don't know what to say, she started to talk again. - "I mean... These people are there somewhere. Abby and Owen ran away just when your friends showed up. Doesn't that make you worried, honey?" - Her voice was resonating through your ears, there were still these cracking sounds inside your ears. What you've been trying to tell to yourself? Did it make any sense?
"What is your point?" - You asked after a moment of thinking, having the old woman turning to you. Suddenly, her face started to re-shift into someone else as the surroundings changed with it, making you dizzy in the process. Of course, it was Joel's house, and you had to close your eyes instead of looking at the man, falling on the ground right after as you threw up. You were panicking, Abby's face was flashing in front of your eyes accompanied by the manic expression in her face. The whole thing was about Joel, right? So this was what your brain immediately clicks to when you'll see him? Abby and her knife? Jesus Christ, it was a lot take in.
But as soon as the man touched your shoulder, it was like flipping the card around - finding yourself in his embrace as you both were falling asleep just hours before the patrol. But the touch wasn't making you feel good at all. To be honest, your eyes were slowly slipping towards the window as you searched for something in the darkness. It took you a long time to figure out where she was standing, but when you did... She was still standing there, looking into the window. And you were watching her back.
Hell, you couldn't make out what the fuck was that all about, but you've been trapped in a loop, circling between Joel and Abby. And you couldn't tell how long is that going to take. And neither could they.
Meanwhile, in Jackson:
The weather got drastically better after everything went down. At least the blizzards had stopped and the sun was slowly melting the snow everywhere. The Jackson was just going forward, not stopping because of what happened. Why should the whole city stop because of two people? Sure, people were saddened by what happened to you, but it wasn't their business in the slightest. Some animals needed to be taken care of, clothes to be repaired and pottery to be made. Tommy was a prominent figure in the hierarchy of Jackson, but the whole responsibility was put directly on Maria's shoulders.
There was one person whose world had stopped completely. All they did was that they sit at their home all the time, trying to think of a single reason why the fuck would someone do such terrible things to other human beings without having the reason to? Something like a regular sleep schedule? They didn't know what was that? The image of Tommy laying in blood on the ground was still carved inside their brain as they woke up every night with nightmares.
If there was something that needed to be said about Tommy, he was alive. Alive, yet not awaken. There was many possible outcomes for Tommy - he could wake up and have a memory loss. He could wake up and be crippled, whether physically or mentally. Tommy may never have the chance to talk like normal people. And... Bobby was sure that his condition is stable for now, but really, there was also a possibility they overlooked even the smallest crack in his skull. As soon as Joel brought the boy, Bobby started to check his skull, stopping the bleeding - when that was done, she sewed and took care of the wound, moving on to his broken knee and left forearm. And there was the possibility that he has a concussion, internal bleeding, and many other things. The people did a number on him.
And as for Y/N... Holy fuck. Bobby had never seen such screwed up ligaments above the knee. They also needed to tear a few nails off your fingers because the nails completely tore if off from the nail beds. It was pretty disgusting, sure, but Bobby was trying to keep you alive. While no-one was sure if Tommy has internal bleeding, Bobby almost cried with happiness when she was sure you didn't have it - as soon as your nose was put back in place, and it wasn't as swollen as when Dina brought you in, your breathing got into the normal state. Also, your pulse was checking up perfectly, so apart from the reality that your upper thigh muscles were ripped apart.
Sure, most likely, you'll be able to walk normally once again... After some time. But it was obvious that you'll be climbing for a few months at least. But most likely, you were about to be okay.
This was making the person at least a bit calm. But Ellie couldn't help herself - she wasn't falling asleep at night, all she could do was to think about the persons. Who were they? Where did they come from? Sure, she went back to the cabin to look through it, but not even the dead man Dina had shoot had nothing on his. These people were ready to leave at any given time. These weren't some stupid hunters, cannibals, or anyone like that. These people knew what they were doing. But... What did they search for? Why did they need to fuck you up when you were innocent? How did you and Tommy even get into the fucking cabin in the first place? Did they drag you in?
Ellie sat in the cabin for quite some time, on the couch, watching the stain of Tommy's blood, remembering every second of finding her uncle laying there, barely breathing and unconscious. The golf club was thrown on the ground and the window was opened up as someone ran away from the room. Now, it was too late to look for them, which was making Ellie more desperate to find them. The snow was now far gone, they didn't leave anything behind - inside or outside the house.
It didn't matter how much Dina was trying to make Ellie smile again - Ellie was still wearing the same expression, barely talking, looking into the ground as the incident wasn't leaving her head. She was only waiting for you or Tommy to wake up - and as soon as she'd hear who they were, she was ready to sneak out and come for each of them. It was inside her every time the opened the door to her house. As soon as she unlocked it, the image of Tommy laying in his blood just flashed in front of her eyes, making her panic for a second. Usually, she sat down on her bed, put a hand on her chest, and tried to breathe deeply. Soon enough, she stopped crying every time she saw Tommy on the ground.
The rage which has gotten into her once she was you fucked up on the chair as you frantically mumbled something to Jesse hadn't left her for a single second. It was making her sick from her stomach, hopeless and... She felt hatred for everything around her. Once, someone had a dumb comment regarding her and Dina, and even though she didn't say a word to the person, she threw her plate on the ground, walking straight to them. Maria, thanks to God, has stopped Ellie in the last second, catching her and dragging her away.
Not even Joel wasn't able to make her talk, no matter how hard the man tried to get at least a word out of her. Sure, she was now spending time at his place a lot, because what happened was a family catastrophe and they both needed to carry the other one through what happened. But she never spoke to him.
Yet, there were moments when Ellie spoke to someone. The problem was that you couldn't answer her. She wasn't exactly speaking anyway. She brought her guitar with her, the one which was in Joel's bedroom, singing to you while they waited for you to wake up. Sometimes, she sang you Take On Me, and other times, she pulled out Johnny Cash, since Joel told her that these are your favorites. Sure, she was a was perfectly aware that singing won't help you recover sooner, but it was probable that it will make you at least feel better.
Her fingers were picking the strings lazily as she proceeded to play the slow melody which was reflecting everything going on inside of her at the moment. Ellie didn't know that Dina was standing behind the door the whole time, but it relieved her girlfriend when she heard Ellie singing. Yet no matter how relieved she felt, she didn't dare to interrupt the moment happening in the room. It took Ellie another twenty minutes to finish the small concert for one person before she put the guitar down, looking at you sleeping on the bed. At that, Dina finally entered the room to change the artificial nutrition hanging next to your bed, sending Ellie one shy smile.
"You've been listening behind the door, weren't you?" - The redhaired girl asked quietly, shifting her focus from you to Dina. Her girlfriend just smiled but didn't give a straightaway answer right away.
"You are a good a singer, what can I say, baby?" - Dina whispered, making sure that everything's in check. It was a week and a half and you were still sleeping. Sure, you'd most likely be awakened by that time, but Bobby decided to keep you under the medicaments for some time - at least before your hands get in check somehow and until you wouldn't tear your muscles of your knee when you'd stand up. There was a wheelchair prepared for you, but with the amount of pus leaving the wound every morning, Bobby didn't want to rush any of it. You've been through pain and a severe shock. You needed some rest.
Of course, the medics in Jackson knew that they can't let you sleep for too long but at that point, you were still fine. That was the last thing that made Ellie still standing and being contained because she knew you'd wish so. The girl almost freaked out when Dina put her elbows around her neck, kissing the small sweet spot below her ear as both the girls watched you.
"What is going on inside your head, baby?" - Dina whispered after a small while, as she sat on your bed. While Ellie's eyes were pinned on your face, she could at least tell it is you at that time, Dina was smoothing the small strands hair off Ellie's face.
"You know what's going on in there." - Ellie muttered out, quickly flashing her look at the black-haired woman. These two were very much in love and if the incident wouldn't happen, their relationship would be most likely blossoming at the moment. But there were different thoughts inside of Ellie's head. The hatred she felt was immersive - it was almost as painful as on the day she got to know Joel had kidnapped her from the hospital and killed Marlene to protect his baby girl.
How could the man be so calm about the whole situation? It seemed that having his brother almost paralyzed and his girlfriend almost dad didn't move a single thing inside of him. At least that was what Ellie thought. Of course, he was in deep grief and an immerse state of anger, but there was nothing to do at the moment. Who would he be hunting down? Who were they? Where did they come from? Will they come back? Joel knew better than letting the anger flash out just like that. And more importantly, he knew that if you wouldn't ish to speak of them or tell him specifically to hunt them down, he won't be going on a killing spree just like that. He had a family to protect now and a future to go towards... Yet Ellie was just nineteen-year-old kiddo, in the end, she didn't know better.
"Ellie... I'm not sure I want you to fuck around with these people. You hear me?" - Dina asked quietly, catching Ellie's palm in her hand. At that, Ellie left out a small chuckle, shaking her head.
"This isn't a thing you're deciding about. This is my own decision to make." - Sadly, Ellie was right. And Dina knew that. Even Maria, Tommy, and Joel knew that - if Ellie had decided to avenge you, there was no way they could stop her in her quest. Only you had the power do put a stop on that, and even about that, Dina wasn't sure entirely. The only way to stop Ellie was to make sure you won't tell her about the people once you or Tommy wake up... But there was this high probability of Tommy starting a witch hunt by himself because he was a hell of a proud man.
"And is it yours to make? Ellie, what if she wakes up and tells you she doesn't want to go after the people? What if Tommy wakes up and tells you he doesn't want you to go?" - The black-haired girl scoffed ironically, rolling her eyes at her girlfriend's pride. - "You don't know the first shit about these people. What are you even planning on doing?" - Dina asked quietly. She was glad that she hears Ellie talking after those few weeks, but at the moment she wasn't so sure if it was making her feel good to hear Ellie talk about what she had inside. This behavior was selfish, hasty, and suicidal. The only thing Ellie was about to archive was getting herself killed... And Dina knew that. Ellie did too, somewhere deep inside. Yet her ego and pride when it came to these things was... Huge.
"I'm gonna find... And I'm gonna kill... Every last one of them." - Ellie whispered, her eyelid twitching with anger. Slowly, she breathed out, closing her eyes. Dina watched the girl slowly pumping her palm open and close tight for a moment before Ellie gathered enough calmness to speak. - "And you can't stop it, no matter how hard you'll try, Dina. Joel can't, Maria can't... No-one can't. I'm not gonna let these fuckers get away with this." - It hurt Dina more than just some slap, knowing Ellie is already sure that no matter what, she'll get the justice she desired for you. Dina just closed her eyes for a moment before getting up to walk around the room, catching some breath.
"If you're going, I'm going." - Dina demanded silently, covering a good portion of her lips with her palms. - "But promise me that wed go only if she wishes us to go. If she tells you to stay put, you will." - Dina begged silently, knowing Ellie will find them on her own if she'd have to. But the false promise Ellie made with a silent nod calmed Dina down. It was just for a moment, but it did help somehow.
#the last of us#the last of us part two#the last of us imagine#the last of us part 2#jesse the last of us#maria miller#maria miller the last of us#abby anderson#Abigail Anderson#abby the last of us#owen the last of us#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#dina the last of us#dina x ellie#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel the last of us#joel miller the last of us
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Some Things Are Bound To Be (Chapter Five) - Kyara
A/N: JESUS. This took as long as the previous chapter and it isn’t nearly as long as the last. Sorry, guys. But hey, I literally wrote this in under 24 hours! A personal record, if I do say so myself. We get some s p i c y drama, too 👀 things can only go up from here. A million thanks to @fromthenorthernskies for screaming beta-ing this chapter 💗 Hope you enjoy!
PSA- the author does not take responsability for the feelings this chapter may cause, however, is more than welcome to be screamed at. 😌
CW: alcohol, smoking.
Read on AO3.
***
“Everything’s fake,” Kyne blurts out before she can properly process what she’s saying, head fuzzy from all the Tequila shots. Priyanka looks at her with a grin, sipping on her cocktail, saying something about agreeing with her, that they all know Scarlett got their lips done back in college, but Kyne stops her. “That’s not what I mean.”
Priyanka knits her brows in a frown, looking puzzled. Kyne supposses she can’t expect much from her, since they’re already drunk as hell, barely able to walk without stumbling—and she’s being unintentionally mysterious, blurting out things like that while they’re outside the bathroom waiting for Scarlett and Bo. Jesus. She has to gather herself and think something coherent.
“My relationship with Kiara, it’s fake,” she clarifies, and it somehow feels as if an invisible weight has been lifted from her shoulders. And then, the regret and panic hits her, as she remembers that no one was supposed to know.
But before she can come up with an excuse—say it’s a joke, or something of the sort—Priyanka narrows her eyes, tilting her head, giving her an accusatory look. “I fucking knew it,” she says, so calm and collected, but Kyne can clearly distinguish the offense behind her words.
Kyne recoils for a moment, blinking repeatedly until she processes what Priyanka just said. “You knew?”
“Duh.” Priyanka takes a sip of her drink, staring at Kyne dead in the eye. “Well I mean, I kinda suspected it, but you always have this stupid lovey-dovey face when you’re with her, and, I dunno, I never saw you look at anyone like that,” she explains, slurring ever so slightly, but her tone is rather serious—or as serious as someone as drunk as Priyanka can be—and Kyne understands every single word, flushing a deeper shade of red with each one.
“I don’t like Kiara,” it’s the first thing that comes out of her mouth, a tad too defensive. Though, if she were to be honest, it’s not like she’s entirely wrong—she does feel generally happy around Kiara, unable to bite back a smile with anything related to her. But it’s not “lovey-dovey.” It’s not… Or at least she thinks so.
Anyway. Priyanka cocks an eyebrow—that at the beginning of the night was perfectly painted and now it’s started to smudge around the edges—and presses her index finger on Kyne’s chest, determination burning in her gaze.
“No, you don’t like her—you love her, you stupid bitch,” she declares, proud of her conclusion. If Kyne’s cheeks were red before, now they resemble an apple, even under layers of foundation.
“I fucking don’t—”
“Yes, you do,” Priyanka cuts her off with a solemn tone. Her drink spills ever so slightly from the glass, and Kyne tries to point it out, but Priyanka shushes her. “Oh my god, how did you not know? Of course you’re in love with her, you dumbass. What else did you think would happen? Huh? You made her a fucking dress with pockets for free—”
“That’s technically not true.”
“—and you’re the same bitch that told me I’d have to wait three to five business days for you to fix one of my tank tops!” She finishes her rant with a matter-of-factly tone, sounding as if she just resolved the DaVinci Code.
Kyne stares blankly at her, trying to find something to deny Priyanka’s crazy theory. Sure, there’s just something about Kiara’s personality out of work hours that attracts her like a magnet, and, and as she found out after spending time with her at the ball, already one week ago, they have incredible chemistry together.
But that doesn’t mean she likes, let alone loves, her.
She’s about to tell Priyanka as much, when they hear Bo and Scarlett call out their names as they exit the bathroom. Before she knows it, they’re roaming around the club again, stopping to dance when there’s good music, and buying drink after drink.
And she’s having a good time, she really is; Kyne never gets bored when the Dynamic Four are together, more often than not bringing the chaos wherever they are. But Priyanka’s words linger in her mind, heavy on her conscience. Loving Kiara isn’t an option, there’s no way—but does she like her?
Well, as a friend, obviously, otherwise she would’ve never allowed her to crash in her office, even if she was her boss. But there are those fleeting moments, where Kyne’s heart skips a beat when she smiles at her, and how when she loosens up when they’re alone, eyes crinkling when she laughs wholeheartedly at her jokes, it makes her feel warm inside. She never paid them any mind, because she always felt some sort of pride in making her friends laugh, and she’s a raging lesbian, so any pretty girl that smiles at her makes her nervous.
Though now that Priyanka brings it up, she does act differently around Kiara than she would with her regular friends. And Kyne might try to excuse it by saying it’s just her trying to keep the faintest professionalism, but looking at it with a different light, it dawns on her that, holy fucking christ, she actually likes Kiara.
Oh, shit.
It seems almost like a joke from the universe that the second she realized it, she was scrolling through random Instagram Stories, landing on Kiara’s by pure luck. It was a selfie from her and one of her friends, they were out too, apparently to a bar. And Kiara looked so damn stunning, with her flawless make-up, sparkly silver dress and loose curls, her heart does that stupid thing where it beats like it wants to come out of her ribcage.
Damn. Okay, maybe she does like her, an awful lot at that.
“Pri?” Kyne calls out, leaning with her back pressed against the counter of the bathroom. Priyanka glances at her, trying to salvage her melting eyebrows, cursing through gritted teeth her second hand make-up.
“Yeah?”
“You were right,” she says, the mysterious tone back again, though this time is purposeful, as she’s more sober now. Priyanka vaguely asks her about what, before going back to wiping the sweat around her eyebrows with a tissue. “About liking Kiara. I think I do,” Kyne admits with a defeated tone, bringing a hand to her chest and giving a dramatic sigh.
Priyanka chuckles, lazily looking at Kyne. “Of course I am right, I was right about Carol from accounting fucking Jeff from my team in the janitor closet. Nothing escapes me,” she says, making Kyne laugh a tad too loud than she would if she was fully sober. This is a way too watered down reaction than she expected, but Priyanka does turn into a quieter person when she’s drunk—she’s not sure how that works, considering she’s loud as all hell when she’s sober.
“True, I guess,” Kyne concedes, shifting her position to look directly at her friend. “I wonder if she, uh, if she feels the same,” she asks out loud, not really expecting a reply, but Priyanka shrugs.
“I mean, I don’t know her as you do, clearly, but I’d say as far as you go, you have it bad, because you always were all about ‘eating the rich’ when we were in college, and look at you now, you’re in love with a rich girl,” Priyanka teasingly comments with a snort, and Kyne gasps, offended, as she playfully shoves her.
“I guess so, because I don’t wanna eat her,” she replies, not bothering on correcting Priyanka when she says she loves her, because she knows she won’t be able to get her to understand she doesn’t—yet. A thought crosses her mind when she thinks of Kiara in that royal blue dress she made for her, looking more ethereal than ever, and, bolded by the alcohol, she says after a moment, “I mean, not in that way, but—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Priyanka deadpans, cutting her off again. Her tired expression causes Kyne to go in a fit of giggles, though if she thinks about it for a moment, she’s more so laughing at herself for taking so damn long to figure it out, and not even on her own. Priyanka turns to look at her, finally giving up on salvaging her eyebrows and pinches her in the arm. “If you two get married one day, I demand to be the maid of honor, because your ass would’ve never realized without me,” she declares, matter-of-factly.
Kyne pinches her back, gasping in offense. “I would’ve realized at some point!” Priyanka arches a brow, cocking a hip as she turns to face her. “Fine, maybe I wouldn’t have. But it’s not my fault emotions are so complicated!”
Priyanka sighs dramatically, patting Kyne’s shoulder, tossing the dirty tissue in the trash before taking her hand to get out of the bathroom.
They wave through the crowd to find Scarlett and Bo perched against one of the windows for the smokers, talking between drags and occasionally eyeing the people around them. Scarlett asks what took them so long, shouting over the blasting music, and Priyanka just says the bathroom was full.
Scarlett barely cares for her reply, and Bo just suggests they should take a selfie before anyone else’s make-up starts melting. Priyanka swats her in the arm, but ends up giving in, and they somehow manage to take a picture they all like within three tries. That, in itself, is a miracle.
They take some more, just to be sure, before Scarlett proposes to buy one last round of drinks—closing time is soon, but it seems like that won’t stop her, so they drag Priyanka along and Kyne stands in her spot, guarding it while she talks to Bo.
“What do you think of this one?” She asks, showing Bo a picture she took at the beginning of the night, striking a pose on the balcony of Priyanka’s apartment, staring at the camera with her signature resting bitch face, but make it fashion. Her tight black leather skirt hugged her curves, and her hot pink crop top looked great against her skin.
Bo takes the phone with her free hand, dying cigarette in the other, and looks at it for a moment before nodding with a complicit smile. “You look hot, do I have to suppose Scarlett took it?”
“You know it.” She gives her a wink, typing in the caption Scarlett’s username, because they always get mad if they don’t get credited for the photos they take of their friends, and stops before posting. “I don’t have a caption in mind right now, do you?” Kyne looks at her, and Bo blows out the smoke before answering.
“I dunno, I always put either a stupid pun or a sex lyric.” Bo shrugs, and it’s not really of much help, but after a moment, Kyne googles the lyrics of that new Pussycat Dolls song.
The less you do, the more it makes me crazy, she reads, squinting slightly. Kyne supposses it’s somehow fitting—it takes Kiara to smile for her to feel all sorts of things. She hopes it’s a hint discreet enough, and presses post before she chickens out.
It seems like the queue to get a drink hasn’t slowed down, because Scarlett and Priyanka have yet to return, so she checks her phone every so often, definitely not to see if Kiara had liked her photo, between her casual conversation with Bo as she finishes her cigarette.
Bo is saying something about this guy that has been looking at her intently for the past ten minutes when Kyne checks her phone yet again. She was going to lock it again after briefly going through her notifications—until something stuck out to her.
@kiara.qc commented on your photo: “you’re hotter than hell”. Followed by three fire emojis.
She tries to fight back a toothy grin, but that’s next to impossible, and her fingers hover over the screen for a second too long, mind blank.
“Geez, girl, can you make it any more obvious that you’re whipped for Miss Bitch Heiress?” Bo says, and though she tries to play it off as a joke, Kyne knows her well enough to detect the underlying annoyance.
“Don’t call her that,” she says, “She’s not a bitch. And what if I am, anyway?”
Bo merely rolls her eyes, her cigarette all but finished as she stomps on it to light it off. “Oh, c’mon, as if you don’t know,” she scoffs, and it comes off just a little too rude for Kyne’s liking.
“The fuck you mean? Know what?” She squints, locking her phone and placing it in her front pocket. Bo cocks a brow, folding her arms.
“Oh, so you don’t know Kiara fires the girls she sleeps with?”
Kyne’s heart stops for a second, all the color draining from her face as she stares at Bo, curiosity in her expression. She tries to ask why does she think that, but she struggles to form a coherent sentence.
“I think you forget that me and Scarlett have been working for the company for years now,” she proceeds after a moment, “I was already in my position as PR manager when she started working half-time. And of course she got the special treatment and climbed to an important position within a month there, so now me and Scarlett were receiving orders from a teen fresh from high school.” Kyne wants to say that technically it’s not Kiara’s fault, but Bo goes on before she can open her mouth. “Then, of course she started to sleep around with some of our co-workers. Suspiciously enough, most of them were fired or quit the job shortly after.”
Kyne feels the dread pool at the pit of her stomach—there’s no way this is true, it has to be manufactured office drama, or maybe what really happened was extremely taken out of context. But there’s no way in hell Kiara is that type of person.
“Maybe she’s changed,” she muses, wanting to have the faintest hope that it’s not true. Bo squeezes her shoulder, giving her a pitiful smile.
“Listen, bitch, I love you and shit, but if I were you I’d stop this before you’re way too into it.”
It’s too late, Kyne thinks, chewing the inside of her cheek.
Priyanka and Scarlett come back shortly after it, and Kyne doesn’t speak to Bo for the rest of the night.
***
When Kyne wakes up next morning, she has a heavenly hangover, and a feeling of hollowness in her heart.
Bo’s words haunted her for the rest of the night, her demeanor doing a full 180°. Fortunately enough, Priyanka and Scarlett were too drunk to notice. But Bo was sober, since she didn’t like to drink, and was their assigned driver, anyway. She did pick up on her change, and Kyne was thankful she was the first one she dropped off once the club closed and they had to go home.
Her bed was a mess, just like her mind, and she didn’t have the strength to reach for her phone and check her latest post on Instagram, knowing Kiara was at the top of the comment section.
Everything she knew to be true about her is suddenly put to the test, and Kyne doesn’t know if she should believe her best friend, who’s only seeking out for her, or Kiara, who has been nothing but kind and sweet and nothing like people think. But maybe Kyne is a little too biased.
And then there’s the fact they’re not really sleeping together, or dating for real, for that matter; if that was true, she can’t fire her once they’re done pretending—or can she?
She groans out loud, tossing and turning in her bed. Her head is pounding, aching from last night, and the least she needs is over-heating it with such incoherent train of thought.
She’d like to think she’s able to stop liking Kiara for the sake of making things easier once they inevitably break up and things get awkward when people wonder why are they still hanging out, as if nothing happened—she’d really like to, but it’s easier said than done, for her heart plummets against her ears when she replies to Kiara’s comment with a simple red heart, and clicks on her profile, finding that she also posted a photo from last night.
Kyne sighs, admiring the photo a second too long before liking it and locking her phone, knowing things will be awkward on Monday morning.
#some things are bound to be fic#fake dating au#kyara#kyne#online kyne#priyanka love#scarlett bobo#boa#my fanfiction#rpdr fanfiction
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Male reader x Jasper Hale.
Plot Line: The reader’s lived in Forks his whole life. The Cullens show up and he’s afraid to admit his crush on none other than Jasper Hale. His friends however, have a plan to let Jasper know how much their friend swoons over him. Who knows? Maybe Jasper might feel undeniably flattered.
In this fanfiction Alice and Jasper are just best friends. Jasper is bisexual. Fake names have been made for the reader’s friends.
Friend names include: Jane and Westley (Wes)
TW: cursing, a lot of teenage embarrassment, and fluff.
Words: 1,626
———
And then, in the midst of it all, I saw your eyes. To fall is to accept, and to be damned is to reject. Yet in the end, no matter what I may feel or see, damned is all I am to be.
There was a long pause of silence. Your friend, Jane, looked at you and gave a soft smile. “Y/N... you’re really good at poetry but that’s just depressing.”
A loud snort came from your left. You turned your head to see Wes waving his hand. “Sorry bro, but that was absolute shit. Sad poetry about how much you like the guy? Scared of rejection? What are you a 13 year old girl?”
“Hey! I take offense to that,” Jane snapped back. She pulled her pony tail out, starting to redo it. “Listen, I think it’s sweet that you like him so much. However, I have to agree with Westley. Being upset about it isn’t going to help you and you know it.” They were right. You didn’t want them to be, but they were. Letting out a sigh, you let your head drop to the lunchroom table.
“Just end me now,” you complained, your voice muffled by the table.
“Y/N... come on. Pick your head up. How about after school we can all get online and play video games? I bombed the last round of Call of Duty,” Jane said. Wes laughed again. “Bombed it?! You did worse in that last round than I do in English!”
Then they started to bicker. You let out a huff of air, sitting up. You looked down at your depressive poetry book. It was filled with poems about how much you liked Jasper Hale. One of the many members of the ‘Cullen Clan’ as the town called them. They just moved here and you couldn’t get Jasper out of your mind. On the first day of school you tripped in the halls, dropping your books everywhere. You didn’t think that the most handsome, polite, and chivalrous man would come to your aide... but he did.
Your eyes met and suddenly you were in love. Well, you didn’t say you were in love until three months later, in the middle of November. Thanksgiving break was coming up, and you were excited to not have to stop yourself from staring at his gorgeous face.
For a split second, you felt eyes on you. You turned around and scanned the lunch room... but no one was looking at you. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Jasper and the rest of his siblings. Damn. His hair had gotten longer.
That’s when the bell rang. You quickly stood up, almost stumbling when you did. In a rush, you grabbed your books and waved goodbye to your friends. You’d talk to them after school.
***
The second you got home, you made your way to your room. Dropping off your bookbag to procrastinate your math homework, you turned on your console. Jane and Wes were already online as if they ran home at the speed of light. Well, Wes probably did. God he was such an idiot.
You turned on your headset and joined their party invite. “Hey guys-“
“Y/N! WE HAVE AN IDEA.” Oh god. They said that in unison.
“What’s your idea...” you asked, rather wearily. You felt your heartrate slightly pick up at the thought of whatever they were thinking. You knew it wasn’t going to be good. Whenever those two conspired, chaos seemed to follow.
“Okay, so Wes and I were talking-“
“And Jane and I thought-“
“We could just ask Jasper out for you.”
“WHAT.”
‘Okay. No. No. Absolutely not. Hell no. Not in a million fucking years. No. Not at all. God no. Please no.’ It took Wes clearing his throat for you to realize you said all that out loud .
“Guys... please don’t. I’m already embarrassed enough about it, you know? I don’t need you two screwing this up for me and making me out to be a fool in front of the guy I like!” You had a point. They could completely ruin your reputation and embarrass the hell out of you in front of the whole school. Oh god. “How would you do it?”
Jane laughed over the com. “We were thinking we could just put a letter in his locker. No, you won’t get to read it. No, it won’t be embarrassing. Something short and sweet. Right, Wes?” Wes groaned. “Noooo. We gotta make it romantic. Endearing. Full on flattery that Jasper couldn’t do anything accept ask Y/n out! ‘Oh my dear Jasper, how I’ve thought of you many a moon. Like a Romeo without a Juliet, I long for you. Your smile and glowing eyes, how I dream of them. Oh won’t you be mine?!’”
“WES.”
Your cheeks burned red. You couldn’t help it! He was embarrassing the shit out of you! “So help me God if you actually write any of that down-“ you gritted your teeth, your face a deep red. You took the headset off, pressing the power button. Nope. Can’t do it. Taking in a deep breath, you turned your headset back on, putting it back over your head. Wes was apologizing, swearing that he and Jane wouldn’t actually pull anything like that.
***
You dreaded this. More than dreaded this. You despised it. Loathed it. You wanted nothing to do with it. The closer you got to school, the more mortified you started to feel. Nothing had even happened yet. Just the thought of Jane getting to school early and putting a letter in his locker... oh god...
When you got to school, you could see The Cullens pulling up. You glanced at their cars as Jasper stepped out. He instantly looked at you. SHIT.
You turned your head as fast as you could, rushing into the building. ‘Nope. No. Not happening. Hell to the no. Jesus christ Jane- why did you have to do this to me you bitch. What if I become too embarrassed that I go speechless? What if I get rejected? Then what? I go home and cry about it like the scared little boy Wes thinks I am about this? Man. So what if I cry? Okay. Guys cry all the time. Maybe not over rejected crushes but- but whatever! Ugh!’
Your thoughts ran absolutely rampant. You couldn’t stop them. You rushed to your locker and started to unpack your bag. Grab your books. All of them? Yup. No stopping at your locker today no matter how heavy the load is. Pencil pouch? Yup. Got it. Water bottle-
“Y/N?”
Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh no. God please no. You turned to see Jasper and your hands became sweaty. Suddenly all of your books slipped out of your hands and landed on your feet.
“Fuck!” You shouted, stumbling slightly back. You felt a strong hand steady you, and Jasper was looking at you with a worried gaze.
“Are you okay?” He asked, reaching down to pick your books up. Okay maybe he didn’t read the note and if he did dropping the books distracted him enough-
“I... read the note in my locker,” he said. FUCK. “And... I’m flattered.” What.
Jasper had this small smile on his face, holding out your history textbook to you. “I assumed you had at least a slight crush on me by now. I’ve... caught you staring. Though, I guess I was staring as well in those cases.”
Okay. What. This is not- this is extremely different from what you thought was going to happen. Was he... confessing?
“I truly am flattered that you’d write something so nice-“
“It wasn’t me!” You cut him off, your cheeks slowly turning a deep shade of red. “I- I um- my friend Jane she wrote it. Her and my other friend Westley knew that I liked you and they wrote the note together... somewhat. So I’d stop... avoiding you. And my feelings. I guess.”
Jasper smiled. Oh. He was uh. He was smiling. Okay. Okay that’s a good thing- right?
You couldn’t help but smile back. You took the history book from him and let out a nervous laugh. “I’m... so sorry if they wrote something absured.”
“No. It wasn’t anything bad. You don’t have to worry about what was written. However... I must admit, I thought you were... well, attractive. When we met on the first day. I wanted to let you know that I’d love to take you out on a date.”
He still had that soft smile. Those gorgeous eyes... he was so handsome. His voice was so soft, and in a few words you could just hear the southern accent. Your stomach turned and your heart skipped a few beats.
“I um... I- I would love that. I’m- I’m actually free tonight-“
“Perfect. How about I pick you up at six?”
Oh. OH. You looked away from his eyes, smiling like an idiot. “Six... six works. Yeah.” You glanced back up, seeing he was holding another book of yours. Your poetry book. Your eyes went wide as he handed it to you.
“Alright. I’ll see you at six then, okay darlin’? And... you don’t have to be afraid to talk to me. My siblings aren’t as mean as they look. I promise.” The bell rang. He waved goodbye to you, turned around, and started to walk away.
Holy shit. Jasper Hale just asked you out. You have a date with him tonight! You screamed in your head, quickly scrambling for the things you needed. Slamming your locker shut, you spun on your heel and headed to your first class. So maybe you could accept this. Your feelings for Jasper. And... maybe you could fall in love. Just this once.
———
Hi! So I hope you liked this. I’m sort of planning on writing Jaspers version of this, and maybe how the date goes! If this gets popular enough I 100% will!
#twilight#x male reader#jasper hale#jasper hale x reader#jasper hale x male!reader#twilight the movies#twilight breaking dawn#twilight eclipse#twilight new moon#the cullens#twilight fanfiction#twilight fluff#twilight fandom
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hey so this is gonna be a long-ish one. ive decided its been far too long since i did a session, and we did so many i can often forget what happened. i started in july and im pretty sure its been more than half a year now since this whole blog happened. and in that time, we’ve gone through 88 sessions and i want to know if i remember the relevant plot points and what we got up to in the last few sessions. a refresh/reminder if you would.
so i hereby commence my own little recap of act 5 because yeah no, its too much to do a recap of everything and i have andrew for that after every few acts. but i wanna refresh my mind on act 5 for now. so here we go.
1. alternia.. fucked up place. but its a place the trolls live on so what are we gonna do about it? overthrow the government? seems about right, lets do that with the next troll that gets introduced and if its not kanaya idk what andrew is doing by not having introduced the best troll yet. why the long wait? it was the second introduced? i honestly expected it to go in order when i first read act 5, because first we had karkat talk to jade which was the first new piece dialogue in the comic besides the main kids, but then we had kanaya with rose, which was followed by tavros, then terezi (iirc). so id assume we were following that order but nope karkat got fully introduced, then this random fucking juggalo called gamzee made its way into the comic. imagine my surprise.
2. theres been terminology throughout act 5, that i do not fucking know and will not remember and probably never will. like tf is a perigee again? i made a doc somewhere ill probably find it.
3. karkat’s introduction... short but very sweet. and by sweet i mean we got to know the depths of the angry edge lord. and by depths i mean karkat got angry at gamzee for typing in a way that he didnt like so he yapped like a chihuahua. nah, but seriously, i do like karkat tho, hes growing on me but only bc hes a bitch baby and his whole personality makes me want to mock him so thats the reason im not that annoyed and think hes funny, and the most harmless troll. even more so than tavros. and thats saying something. 7.5/10 bc im generous.
4. then gamzee... the high juggalo troll who has the worst typing quirk imo, i cannot for the life of me read it. but hes chill, i actually really like gamzee. hes funny and the least problematic as of right now. 8.5/10.
5. terezi’s introduction next i think. she likes playing as a lawyer with her stuffed dragons, ie by roleplay, shes blind, can see through licking, and she likes eating chalk, maybe its even nutritious. shes good. 9/10.
6. uhh in the process of these intros, there are teams being made? karkat joins gamzee and terezi in, i THINK, the red team?? bc terezi likes red?? could be wrong, i dont remember the teams except that its red/blue to represent sollux’s duality in those colors. terezi then tries recruiting AC but AC is like lol sorry i have to ask this friend of mine who has authority over me for some goddamn reason and terezi goes yuck tf i hate that guy................... yeah thats all we have on the teams. pretty sure sollux had smth to do with karkat about the making of the leaders, and they did the “i hate me” and the “no i hate me more than u hate u” or whatever the fuck that was. they got embarrassed afterwards and deleted their messages. im pretty sure they have no messages because everything ends up being mutually deleted so their logs are actually empty. ngl, kinda enjoyed their convos, made me appreciate their characters. i hope we get more because its good content. i also dont know what order this whole thing is in, who contacted who first? couldnt tell you. ill remember later on. and since im basing this off from memory alone, gotta deal with what i remember. uhhhh so yeah. we havent met all characters yet so the teams have not been officially decided but we got the bases, which is that.
7. god i found it, and the only thing im looking at right now is the terminology list i made and what the fuck?? what the fuck?? you miss a few weeks and suddenly the word nubslurping comes up and you forget what the fuck youre reading.
8. im PRETTY SURE aradia is seen after that whole team fiasco?? or its sollux... maybe. wait. its sollux, right. i just knew someone gets introduced mid way through is all. actually, someone gets introduced after every 20 pages. i have no idea. but ik aradia and sollux go hand in hand.
9. oh shit. OH SHIT! RIGHT! I REMEMBER! so this occurs in the latest session i did, and not the beginning of act 5, but AG and aradia team up, right?? and sollux fucking gets manipulated by them and ??? idk??? they make him find the game, reprogram it and then make him believe its going to end the world (which in hindsight is true, but anyways) so he refuses to play it which was AG’s plan all along so she steps up and becomes leader in his place. but aradia says sollux will still play the game no matter what, but she never went through with the plan for AG but it was apart of a prophecy? that sollux wouldnt be the leader at all? that he’d still play? but it had to go according to plan so it could succeed??? we just dont know why yet. anyways, point being, she still cares for sollux since she did it for him rather than for AG. and thats what i recall. god tf i forgot about that whole drama until writing down “sollux and aradia go hand in hand” which gave me violent flashbacks to the memory.
10. oh and id give aradia 9/10 and sollux 7/10. i do like sollux but if i put him higher than karkat, id get crucified. so im keeping them around the same.
11. man i really like sollux and aradia tho, i may have put him at 7, but i really like their dynamic and i really hope they make up and aradia explains herself about AG. because from one side it looks shitty. and while sollux is rude and never makes up his mind, he apologized to aradia after going off, and that was the only time ive seen him be sincere, so im pretty sure he cares for her to some extent. and i think its somewhat mutual? considering the whole “did it for him” thing. man, i see potential because i actually like both their characters. theyre well written. may not have the best personalities, but i appreciate well written characters and homestuck has the best ones ive seen in a while.
12. oh shit, hell yeah, the more i write, the more im connecting the dots and remembering. however, the more i write, the more i want to just make an analogy post but thats not for now. jesus christ its not all about analogies, mack, this is a recap. but.. how does andrew do it? to not go off track??? hard. telling ya.
13. anyways, didnt we break the fourth wall at some point and have the demon gods or whatever the fuck speak to us in third person for the first time in the comic, after having only gone into second person narrative, right after we were introduced to sollux and his “virus”? the uh, the phrase “the demon was already here” was said, or something along those lines. first line in homestuck to give me the creeps ngl and i appreciate it bc it gives me motivation to know what the fuck its about. its cool bc you have no idea where its going and it sure doesnt have anything to do with the current plot, since the trolls’ session/game doesnt have fucking demons so im curious as to what the fuck that was about. and if i really have to make a theory, i feel it has something to do with aradia’s voices in her head which also connect to the gods rose heard when she started disregarding rules and told dave to look at derse without listening to music bc it was as if he was purposely blocking away their calls. like holy shit, that gave me the shivers. while i do want to know more about wtf happens after act 4, trolls are taking priority right now. just like we did with the intermission. no discussing the kids unless necessary. treat this as its own separate comic. and THEN we can connect.
14. ANYWAYS, tavros’ intro???? that comes afterwards?? with the fiduspawn that made me gag a little on the inside? yep. remember that. fuck that lol. -1/10 but tavros himself is MAYBE a 6/10? i wish we explored his character more in his intro bc right now he just looks like a character made only to be a victim rather than have any depth and i feel thats robbing someone of their full potential. give me more personality andrew, rather than a quivering boy who falls prey to bitches. im expecting more throughout the comic honestly and i hope he gets growth so hes not looked as a “victim” but rather his own character. he is still sweet, and i like him because i want to protect him, but id rather have more info, you know what i mean?
15. oh hell. kanaya had a chainsaw at some point. that made me happy. and didnt she cut off tavros’ legs?? and he got robot ones? and some creepy dude was looking and we called him saggy tits bc hes sagittarius? right? neat. that did happen. pretty sure saggy tits is ACs friend that tells her what to do. the more u know. OH and they all have colored blood similar to their text colors lol. that i remember... so tavros has brown, terezi has blueish green, um. karkat has grey the loser. and apparently it forms a rainbow which is nice. rainbow is good.
16. i dont remember anything else actually
17. wait no i do. AG appeared. shes a petty bully. idk what to say about her. we didnt get that much, except that she hates tavros but is okay with aradia. she also looks like a bottle opener. actually, i think she teamed with aradia to gain leadership rather than to “be friends”. and while that is similar to how karkat did it, meaning the gain, the motivation and how they earned it is entirely different. kinda seeing a trend tho. the leaders of the red/blue teams are both characters who wanted the role, but never had it to begin with. only to win their way into the position. but rather than ask non-stop like karkat did, AG manipulated others so she could be successful. not too sure if she also used aradia for that, or is actually motivated to become friends since they were “past enemies” and she needed a rebound. pretty sure its somewhat both. while AG did mostly use aradia to speak with sollux, what she doesnt know is that aradia is a bad bitch who never even thought about AG and only followed through with the plan bc she had a plan of her own. i guess we’ll look into that later. i lowkey want to know their history.
18. OH AC!!! she appeared for a second as well. love her. shes amazing. 9.5/10. and you may ask yourself, why am i saying “i love this character” but none of them are 10/10?? weellllll its because, and i cant stress this enough, 10/10 belongs to kanaya, i dont make the rules. im waiting for her introduction, shes my favorite and its obvious. sorry.
19. oh huh seems i forgot about the term “lusus”. which.. is.. their parents but not really, its these fucking weird ass creatures that the trolls fought in a cave or something as a child. i dont fucking know. terezi hatched hers and it died? gamzee’s also died but his goat sea dad was never really there to begin with so while it is sad, its more sad that gamzee never saw him? um.. karkat killed his own by exploding his computer bc sollux said dont run the virus and karkat said u cant tell me what to do and did it anyways. so thats on him. but apparently theyre supposed to die, to become prototyped during the game, right? yeah. i remember now.
20. thats.. about it? idk anything else, nothing is coming back to me apart from the shit above. huh.... im surprised how quickly things do come back to you the moment you rant about the plot tho.... handy trick.
cool. neat. fun. this took me too long. but im glad i remember a little bit.
#i wanted to catch u all up on this#but ill most likely do a liveblog tmr bc i was bust today unfortunately apart from writing this out#bc this took priority for better understanding where i am rn#maaaannnn#writing wears me out#i love it#but its tiring the fucking bitch#so im in need for deep sleep#wish i could do more smh#welll#goodnight :)
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over-protective
this had a prompt, but i went totally off track and created some good old hurt comfort instead.
everyone say thank you bear for the idea!
g/t mean girls
Something was off.
It didn’t take Einstein to figure that out.
It was after school, and Janis was already at the pick up zone as I approached.
It all looked normal, but my gut told me something was off.
Was Janis okay?
She looked fine.
“Hey there.” I smiled, as she looked over.
“Hey, Damian.” She doesn't return the smile.
Something is definitely wrong.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?”
“I dunno, you just don’t seem okay.”
“Get off my back, Damian.” Janis’ voice has an edge. It's cold and forein and does nothing to settle the pit in my stomach.
“What?”
She rolls her eyes, stepping to the edge of the partform. “Never mind, c’mon, I wanna go home.”
“Wait, no. Something is wrong. Did you see Shane or something? Why-”
“Literally leave it be, Jesus Christ, Damian.” Janis snaps and I instantly freeze. Never has Janis spoken like that to me. I’ve heard her snap at other people, but-
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask. I try and think back to everything we’ve done recently. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just Shane Omen trying to fuck with Janis. I hate that Janis getting hurt is the ordinary.
“Did you do something wrong?” Janis scoffed.
I don't know what to say. I honestly can’t figure out what I did. Was this some sort of fucked up prank? No, Janis wouldn't do that.
I step forward, reaching out to pick up Janis. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Janis steps backward. “God, you’re doing it again.”
I freeze. “What?”
“You’re always so overprotective. I don’t need you to shield me from anything with the off chance to hurt me. It’s so patronizing.”
Despite the very clear size difference I can’t help but feel like Janis is looking down at me with her glare. “I-”
“You what. Didn’t notice? Of course you wouldn't. You’re too busy freaking out over anything. I’m not a fucking china doll, Damian.”
“I know that.” I say softly. I still don't fully know what's going on, but at the rate words are pouring out of Janis’ mouth makes me think this isn't a new feeling. She’s been thinking about this for a while.
Her reaction is so sudden but her feelings behind it are not. My heart sinks. How long has Janis felt this way?
“I don’t think you do.” Janis replied coldly. “You don’t act like you do. I’ve had enough of it. I don’t need you to baby me twenty four seven. In fact- I don't need you at all.”
I take a step back out of surprise more than anything, but Janis isn’t done.
“I can take care of myself, Damian. I hate how overbearing you are, I hate how weak you think I am, and I. Hate. You.”
For a second, my brain totally stops. Like- I wasn’t hearing Janis correctly. Or that I’m hallucinating. But she’s right there, standing with her arms crossed, dead serious.
“You don’t mean that.” I say numbly.
“Yes I do. I mean all of it.”
“Jan-”
“Oh don't Jan me.” She took a step back, making her way back to the tiny area of school. “I’m taking the tiny bus home. I don’t need you to pick me up tomorrow or take me anywhere. I don’t want to talk to you again.”
“What?” I don't understand what’s happening, or where this is coming from. Janis’ declaration of hate is echoing through my head, and it's the only thing I can focus on. She doesn't mean it. She can’t mean it.
Janis looks simply bored of this conversation. “God, do I have to spell it out? We aren’t friends anymore. I don’t want to be friends with you. I want you to leave me the fuck alone.”
She doesn't say anything else or explain further before turning on her heels and disappearing into the walls of the school.
For a second, I stand there dumbfounded. I can hear my heart pound, and my throat feels tight. She didn’t mean it. Right?
I almost expect her to call and tell me it's a prank. A fucked up prank.
My phone doesn't ring.
I didn’t register my eyes opening at first, with Janis voice still echoing in my head. I blinked, silently, my heart racing as I sat up-
-in my room?
Holy shit.
Wait.
Was it just a nightmare?
I glanced around, the warm fairy lights twinkling and the slight breeze from the window left open all seemed so familiar and calming.
I pulled my bedsheets over me more as my gaze lands on the makeshift bed on the table next to me.
Janis.
Under the pile of small blankets lay an even smaller girl, asleep and unaware that I’m awake.
I let out a shaky breath, my mind still trying to catch up with reality.
It was a nightmare.
Janis never said those things.
Janis was here right now.
She-
I run my hand feverishly through my hair.
It was a bad dream.
That’s it.
My room is chilling, even from under the blankets. I can’t tell if it’s the breeze or my nerves but I glare accusingly at the open window anyway. The curtains sway with each gentle blow. I don’t want to get up and close it, if it's cold under here, it's even colder over there.
My heart is still pounding as I lean back down in bed.
The dream felt so real.
Of course it wasn’t.
Janis wouldn't say those things.
Right?
My stomach twists at the thought.
I knew Janis got annoyed sometimes, but never frustrated or mad- I thought.
Would she really leave me over something like that?
I hate you.
It’s not ture. It can’t be true. It’s just a nightmare. It’s my brain creating irrational scenarios to fuck with me.
Janis wouldn't say that.
No matter how much I tried to convince myself, the feeling of uncertainty wouldn't fade.
Janis was strong. I knew she could take care of herself.
But did she know I knew that?
My heart sinks at the possibility.
I turn on my side, looking over to the nightstand next to me.
I could barely see Janis from underneath the mountain of fabric. She practically burroughs herself under layers of fabric everytime. Still- it felt better to know she was there.
That she didn't hate me. That I didn’t drive her to the point of hatred because I couldn’t just back off.
I wouldn't be surprised if she really did hate having somebody always hovering.
Maybe she didn’t hate me.
But she definitely hated being babied.
If she did decide to just cut me off- I guess it’s my fault.
I’m the reason it would come to it.
It would be my fault.
I watch as Janis wraps a blanket tighter around herself- even under all those layers of course she's still cold.
Only she could.
I smile to myself. Janis will be wearing four layers in ninety degree weather and still shiver.
I instinctively reach over, it’s not uncommon for Janis to fall asleep on her own and wake up with me, but stop before I can touch her.
Would that be annoying?
It would only prove her point.
I retract my hand quickly, like touching her would burn.
It wasn’t just a dream because here I am doing everything that upset her in the nightmare.
No wonder the Janis from my nightmare hated me.
Maybe the real Janis feels the same.
She’s just cold, she’ll live. I don’t need to be so on top of her.
Instead, I quietly swing my legs over the side of my bed, crossing my room to close the window.
I feel shaky as I walk, the adrenaline rush from the stupid dream still hasen’t faded.
Not only had the dream felt real- the actions from the dream were real. At least mine.
Here I am, being overbearing.
The window slides shut and locks with a small click. It echoes through the silent room as I step back over to my bed.
I felt exhausted but I can’t go back to sleep. I don’t want to risk another dream like that.
I can handle the unrealistic nightmares. Like yeah- they’re scary, but I don't have to walk around on a normal day worrying about fictional monsters popping out of the floorboards. But that- that could happen.
Before I pull the covers back over me again, I reach down and take my phone off the floor from where it was charging. It’s normally on the bedside table but-
-Janis was there and obviously she won't be sleeping on the floor.
I flinch back as the phone lights up at full brightness.
Jesus Christ.
I blindly poke the phone, only stopping when the screen dims and I know I’ve hit the right button.
Even with the brightness down, I feel like I’m squinting like an old man at my phone. It lights up my corner even as dark as it can go.
I frown, turning off my phone in defeat.
“Damian- are you still up?”
I freeze momentarily as the room falls dark again. “Sorry, did the brightness wake you?”
There's a shuffling sound as Janis emerges from her dramatic cocoon of blankets. I look over as I place my phone back on the floor. The room is dim but I can see her silhouette as she shrugs. “Just kinda woke up. Don’t think it was you. You okay?”
“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just can’t sleep.” The lie slips easily off my tongue. She doesn't need to know I was worrying about her.
“You sure dude?” I watch carefully from where I lay as Janis approaches the edge of the nightstand, a blanket wrapped carefully around her. It took all of me not to tell her to be careful.
The nightstand was directly next to my bed, and while Janis may be small, so was the gap from mattress to ledge. She'll be fine.
She knows what she's doing.
I still watched nervously, though.
Janis paused with her toes dangling off the edge, looking at me carefully.
“Something is wrong.” She concluded, sitting down with her legs swinging over the edge.
“How do you know?” I joke weakly.
“Because I just marched up to the very edge of the table and you didn’t say a word about it. I could tell you wanted to- so why so quiet?”
Now it was my turn to shrug.
“Just figured you know what you’re doing.”
“I do,” Janis agreed. “But you knew that before.”
I felt cornered and relieved at the same time. Janis knew I thought she could take care of herself. That was just part of the dream.
But-
-now she also knew something was up.
I gasp as Janis pushes herself off the edge of the nightstand, landing carefully on my bed.
“Now there’s the reaction I was waiting for.”
“Don't do that!” I sit up as Janis climbs onto my pillow with a laugh.
“Chill dude, I’ve jumped further.”
That fact doesn't exactly sit right with me but I don’t vocally say it.
“Seriously, Dame,” Janis sits down where my head once was while I turn to face her, blanket wrapped around my shoulders. “Is something bothering you?”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it, Jan.” I was typically at the other end of this, and to have Janis worrying about me felt a little weird. “Stupid dream that I let get to me. It’s really nothing.”
I could tell my tone betrayed my words. Could you blame me? Even if the dream was fake, what I felt was real.
I thought I had lost Janis.
It hurt.
And it could happen.
Except it wouldn’t be a dream I could wake up from. The loneliness and pain would be real. I can’t change my past actions, I can’t go back to last week and just lay off, but I can start now.
I just hope ‘starting now’ will be enough.
“If a dream was able to get to you, it wasn’t stupid.” Janis scrunched her nose with clear disgust. “I would know.” She tilts her head while looking at me, like she’s trying to get in my head and read me. And she’s probably doing it too. “I wanna hear about the dream.” She says suddenly.
I shake my head. “You don’t-”
“Damian.” She stands up stepping to the edge of the pillow before patting where she previously was. “Lay down, and tell me what happened.”
I sigh, but comply, because when Janis has made up her mind, there’s no going back. Once I’m lying on my side again Janis steps closer.
“So, what happened?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” I insist, shutting my eyes.
“I can tell you do. And even on the off chance where I’m totally fucking wrong, you’d feel better if you talked about it. If it's affecting you enough that you can’t sleep, you should get it off your chest.”
I hate that she’s right. I hate that she’s picked up my own logic from when she has nightmares, and I hate that she's now using it against me.
Because I have no comeback, nothing to defect too, nothing to say to get out of it.
God damnit, Janis.
I sigh, opening my eyes in defeat. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth as I try and find the words to say. “If I was ever- too much, you would tell me right? You know I would back off if you just said so.”
Janis tilted her head and I could almost see her thought process and she tried to figure out the reason behind my question. “I mean, of course, dude. And for the record, you’re never too much. You act that way because you care! I get that. I know you just worry and that if I really wanted you to, you’d drop it.”
I let out a breath of relief, watching the way the air ruffled Janis’ hair slightly. She’s right there. She doesn't hate me. It was a dream. Just a dream.
“You wanna tell me about the dream now?” Janis prompts gently.
“It was- me and you, and-” Now that I’ve started I can’t go back. “Well, long story short, you said all these things about me being on top of you too much and I dunno, just got worried you actually felt that way.”
I glazed over all the rough parts, the yelling, the hatred, the pain. If Janis caught onto the huge gap in my retell, she didn’t mention it.
“Well, I don’t feel that way. You do so much for me Damian, and I must have been pretty stupid in that dream to tell you to stop. Because I don’t know what I would do without you. If it wasn’t for you being protective, I would have died on like, twenty three separate occasions.” Janis laughs a little. “I love you, so much. Thank you for everything you do for me.”
I smile reaching out to gently pull Janis closer. “I love you too.”
Let my eyes shut again as Janis curls up by my chest. This time, I’m not scared to fall back asleep. Because Janis is right there. She doesn't hate me. She doesn't resent me or think I’m overbearing.
It’s okay.
We’re okay.
I’m okay.
soft them fic soft them fic so-
@realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce
#g/t mean girls#g/t writing#giant damian#tiny janis#yep#thats it#thats the fic#just like all my fics#them
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THE WEDDING POST!!!!!!!
Okay, I have now watched the episode in full like 8 times and it has been absorbed into my bloodstream and I feel stable enough to finally comment on it. For the most part I loved it and it delivered nearly everything that I wanted, even if it was delivered differently than I hoped for/imagined. There were definitely some missed opportunities I thought, but there really was nothing that I outright hated and I was pleasantly surprised for the majority of the episode. Here are some random thoughts as I was watching:
- I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - Lip chewing gum is hot as fuck
- I knew I was in for a special episode when Ian showed up in a towel followed shortly by Mickey in a towel. They have been hiding Mickey’s thicc sixpack all season and unveiled it here as wedding gift to the viewers.
- Cam’s line reading of “Mickey” when Liam asked who was going to wear white, sweet baby jesus. Why does it always sound so good coming out of his mouth?
- I love all the brother scenes. Carl clipping his toenails, Ian griping and then Carl wiping them on the floor was hilarious. Although considering it was his room, what does Ian care? But I love that he did. Very anal (no pun intended) big brother vibe there. Liam hightailing it out of the room the second Mickey walked in and headed toward Ian was a mood. The shit this poor boy has seen.
- I also loved everyone asking Ian about his meds, especially Carl. That really got to me for some reason, as did everyone giving the reason that it was going to be a stressful day. Like they weren’t asking to be assholes, they were just concerned and wanted him to have a good day. Little did they know how stressful. I liked that Ian didn’t get made, but you could still sense a tiny bit of annoyance.
- My second notice that this would be a different kind of episode was Mickey asking if Ian took his meds and then touching him gently under the chin and saying “good” in a very, very deep and low voice. Um....holy shit that was beyond sexy to me for some reason. Like I almost felt like I was intruding. The way Ian’s eyes were fixed seemingly on his chest/tattoo and then the way Mickey forced him to look up at him. Wow. Ahem.
- Ian obviously thought it was sexy as fuck too because he yanked him by the hips and grunted and pulled him in for some more caresses. So yeah, this was a lot different than the “hey what’s up bro?” scenes we had been getting. I mean there wasn’t a tongue kiss, but I appreciated it. I also appreciated that Mickey and Ian had no problem not only seeing each other before the wedding but showering together and messing around too. Poor Carl, he needs to take not of Liam’s reaction.
- Along these sexy lines, there is no way that anyone should find the violent biting/hitting scenes sexy. Like no way that Ian saying “you gonna make me hit you again?” and manhandling Mickey’s wrists to the ground and saying “you done?” in a softer voice while straddling him and then throwing the gun to Carl and telling him to get the cuffs, was sexy. And it definitely wasn’t sexy that Mickey finally calmed down and looked right into Ian’s eyes and nodded. Like, no way, we shouldn’t be romanticizing that shit. Okay? Ok. Ahem. Ha Ha 😅
- I could not survive Kev’s keg boot camp, but I will take his comment about Depeche Mode-loving Gen Xers” as a personal shout out because I put their song “Somebody” at the very top of my Gallavich playlist. It is the cheesiest, sappiest song known to man and my girlfriends and I would play it on repeat and get weepy in high school. And it fits Ian and Mickey perfectly and even out cheeses that Ed Sheeran song. See Gen X can do more than irony.
- Obviously I loved Mickey’s handcuffed speech, but I wish that there had been a reference to that terrible cursed episode in season 3. Not the rape, but the fact that Terry forced Mickey to marry a woman and that it basically ruined their lives and set Ian and Mickey on a destructive course. Nearly everything that they went through started with that terrible day. It was definitely subtly reference and I definitely think that Ian was thinking of it, but I wish it had been stated more clearly.
- I love that Sandy was wiling to go to jail to get Mickey his wedding. I love that Debbie was possibly willing to marry Mickey to get him his wedding as well. I definitely loved all of the Gallaghers rallying around to help.
- The tie scene was beyond cute and this was the kind of scene we have been waiting for and both Cam and Noel delivered. I love how sincere Mickey was in this episode and how straightforward and reverent this conversation was. The kid conversation, Ian telling Mickey exactly what he wants and Mickey revising his statement in response. It was a perfect statement and this scene was so intimate. I truly didn’t think we would get this before the wedding so I’m thrilled that we did.
- Why does everyone keep referencing the combination of Mickey and Ian’s genes? Do they know where babies come from? Have they read too many Mpregs?
- I loved the shot of them first arriving and the mention of the chairs. Mickey’s “I like how the gold captures the light” made me giddy. Then the long shot of them sort of taking in their surroundings and the impact of the day. The other shot I liked was them at the alter with a bit of the “deer in the headlights” look. You got me John Wells, you sneaky bastard.
- I loved everything about Kevin this episode even if it is beyond tacky to propose at someone else’s wedding.
- I had to mute the Gay Jesus crows singing “We Shall Overcome” because ugh and cringe, but Ian having a cult at his disposal may come in handy someday. I hope he thanked them and let them glory in his presence for a little bit. I also liked that Carl and Geneva were so familiar with one another. Lol.
- All of Ian’s interactions with his siblings were perfect. I wanted but didn’t get a scene of Ian asking Lip to be best man and also a best man speech (or any speech for that matter) but the “soft motherfucker” scene was adorable and very moving. I love that the only person besides Mickey that we have every seen Ian say ILY to was Lip. That is pretty appropriate and the kisses were sweet too. I, too, am a soft motherfucker and that swell of music to At Last got me.
- I liked how nervous Mickey was walking down the aisle, and I was happy that Sandy was there for him. But I sort of felt that him walking down the aisle on someone’s arm was a little too “bride” for me and I think I would have preferred to see him walk down the aisle by himself while grinning and walking his patented BDE Mickey walk. But his solemnity and serious was an unexpected choice and I appreciate them going with it.
- FRANK!!!! Oh my god that’s where my tears started. I was really hoping for a Frank/Ian scene but his tears will have to do. Wow, I just wish that Ian could have seen them. The utter disdain the two have for one another usually makes me laugh, but it felt wrong to me in this episode, at least from Frank’s side, so I was glad that it seemed that Frank’s emotion got the better of him. I definitely think that the spectre of Monica had something to do with it, but it was there.
- SPEAKING OF MONICA...wahhhhh! My favorite scene I think. It is no surprise that it comes when Ian is watching Frank and is sitting next to Debbie. I”ve already said this before but Debbie was the perfect person for Ian to talk to about this. I love how Ian still calls Monica “mom” and Debbie still called her Monica. And she was right, Monica would have loved everything about that day. Emma Kinney did a remarkable job in that scene, and she looked beautiful. The chemistry of the actors was palpable and it was just so nice to see. I also loved Ian’s slight laugh as he felt himself tearing up and then his choked voice as he said he should dance with his husband. Waahhh. Followed by Debbie’s sweet, sweet smile and then Ian finding Mickey, who had been dancing adorably and looking around for his boy. Then the way that Ian clung to him and collapsed into him, while the perfect and cheesy song played. WAHHHHH!!!
- Also can we give it for Debbie yet again. Not only did she miss the ceremony in order to save the day, but she missed Franny walking down the aisle. That is commitment and sacrifice and we appreciate it!
-I had hoped for personal vows, but I am at least glad that they recited them and didn’t just say “I do.” Once again, Mickey’s earnestness and seriousness surprised and delighted me,
- I loved Ian grabbing Carl on his walk down the aisle. As I mentioned, every scene of Ian and his siblings was character appropriate and I loved this one too.
- Them having 120 people at the wedding was kind of dumb and ridiculous, but I did appreciate how true to life the variety of outfits was at such an event. From ripped jeans to gold lame dresses LOL.
- That last scene of them was cute too. The hand holding, the nudity, the TATTOO again and Ian’s hand hovering near it. Mickey caressing and pinching Ian’s arm, their TWO rings, the hideous room and their tired, happy, sleepy voices. Perfection. I don’t love how Terry’s murderous rage is somewhat played for laughs, but I admit that I did kind of chuckle at their expressions when they heard the tires screech and then the last shot of them looking at one another while the jaunty music cut in. It was very, very, very much like a rom-com.
So there was a lot to absolutely love this episode, but there were a few missed opportunities as well. I mentioned the lack of personal vows/family speeches and lack of any significant Frank/Ian interaction, but other than that the only thing that really bothered me was the lack of any Fiona or Mandy mention. That was actually a huge missed statement and it would have been easy to do. I find it more believable that Fiona would miss the wedding than Mandy, but to not mention either of them was a bad move, IMO. I liked Sandy and the role she played, but she doesn’t make me forget Mandy, show. And the lack of Fiona mention just makes me think JW was being petty toward ER. But beyond that, THEY ARE MARRIED AND HAPPY AND SUPPORTED BY A LOT OF PEOPLE!!! HALLELUJAH AND PRAISE GAY JESUS!!!
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Those Times That Dick Grayson Got Tangled Up with The BatFamily
It was one of those days where Dick starts to question – just for a tiny bit – the decision he made for himself.
Was it a good idea to become a policeman in the first place?
Living in one of the most crime-ridden and corrupt city in the world, also being a policeman at that, it’s safe to say that NO, it wasn’t such a good idea. Not to mention that vigilantes and villains also roamed (owned) the streets all the time.
He might as well have thrown himself off of a building and that would have been a much more merciful ending to his life.
So, did he ever regret the decision of being a policeman?
Hell no, he doesn’t.
Okay, so maybe he does regret it but only for a small bit. There’s still a part of him that wishes that he should have pursued his career of becoming a gymnast instructor instead or even as a stripper but no, he still chose to become a cop.
Because call him silly and weird but despite witnessing something traumatic at the tender age of ten and also being mentally and emotionally scarred for life, he still try – and succeed most of time – to see the beauty of life and give the love and joy that the world deserves.
Crazy, right?
It might be even crazier than the Joker.
Um, maybe not crazier than the Joker. Nobody’s beating that record and he doubts that anyone actually wants to in the first place. Periodt.
Dick is pretty much aware that most of the people believes that everyone who lives in this world deserves to suffer and die because of the sins we have done and sometimes, he may or may not agree with that statement but it’s the harsh truth. The world and the people in it can be cruel and mean and disgusting. It’s just that, it doesn’t have to stay that way.
There’s this saying that, “The brighter the light, the darker the shadow.” So, meaning that no matter how dark the world gets, a ray of light will still manage to penetrate it and serve as a beacon of hope.
So that’s what he’s going to do.
Serve as beacon of hope for those who needs it.
Sure, the superheroes and vigilantes and heck, even the anti-heroes already got that covered, he would still like to contribute using his own way.
Like, helping an old man cross the street. Chasing a snatcher in between the very busy and crowded streets of Gotham. Even by just preparing a cup of coffee for Commissioner Gordon during a hasty night.
These actions might seems small to others but he enjoys doing them and he never gets tired seeing the smiles of those he help.
Although, the coffee one had caused him to be teased relentlessly by his fellow co-workers that he’d make an awesome errand boy.
It hurt but he knew better so he laughed it off with them. Every time.
John Blake, Commissioner Gordon, and even his daughter seemed to be the only ones who notices his discomfort whenever someone in the office makes a joke about him being an errand boy and calls them out for it.
He flashes them a grin every time.
Well, it originally started as a joke. Since his ‘saviours’ aren’t always there to ‘save’ him, the others started to actually send him on errands.
Ranging from simple errands to downright ridiculous ones. You know, the type of ridiculous where he wouldn’t have believed if he didn’t get to witness it first-hand.
Just like the situation he is in right now.
Dick finds himself gawking at a child wielding a katana inside a pet shop near downtown. Like, who lets a child have access to deadly weapons?!
He knew he should’ve just told Commissioner Gordon about the others sending him on errands.
Damn it.
Dick let out a small sigh. Okay, he can do this.
He let a small grin grace his lips, “Hey there, buddy.”
The kid narrowed his eyes more and spat out, “Do not call me with such a demeaning name. Heed that and I assure you that you will not be leaving this establishment with your right hand missing.”
Dick blinked at that and he felt his grin falter. Oh boy.
“Alright then, no using of demeaning names.” He said as he manage a gesture of air-quoting and he also didn’t fail to notice how the other’s grip on the katana tightened, “Do you have a name I could use?”
Silence met his question and he wasn’t even surprised. This is going to be a long day.
A second sigh left his lips that hour and his hands found permanent residence on his hips. “So no names too, huh?”
He let his eyes take in the kid in front of him. If he were to base the kid’s age by his height, he couldn’t have been older than ten and his voice served as another factor for his theory.
A deep scowl lay across his youthful face and Dick briefly wonders if that’ll stay there for the rest of his life. He’s also wearing a black hoodie and despite the hood obstructing his full view of the other’s face, his piercing teal eyes seemed to be glinting with relentless rage and intense distrust.
The distrust he could fathom but the rage doesn’t seem to be directed towards him. So, who could that rage be for?
Dick knew that he wasn’t the only one doing an assessment, the kid looked pretty keen on observing him as well.
Probably to find some sort of weakness he could use against me. His mind supplied bitterly.
“-Tt- You’re a detective, are you not?” He could sense a hint of sarcasm in the kid’s voice, “Surely, you will be able to discern those yourself.”
He wasn’t even sure if the kid was serious or is just being a huge brat but he doesn’t have enough will in him to explain to the other that there’s a huge difference between being a police officer and being a detective.
But, he likes the idea of becoming a detective one day too.
“Okay, can you at least tell me what are you doing here?”
Dick was sure that he wouldn’t get a straight answer again but was startled when the other diverted his gaze elsewhere. His piercing eyes landed on a cowering man – probably the owner of this pet shop – sitting on the floor.
“This imbecile does not have enough qualifications to run this pathetic-excuse of an establishment, much less to have the audacity to sell these animals.”
He wasn’t sure how to react on the raw emotion that bled into that statement so he remained silent and instead decided to actually look around him.
He noticed how most of the cages appear to be crowded. The AC wasn’t really running and the sunlight were directly hitting some of the cages.
Dick frowns. He knows that this isn’t his field of expertise but he can still tell that this isn’t a standard condition for the animals to be placed in.
Maybe he could call someone from the Animal Control to deal with this—
“Please don’t kill me!”
Dick didn’t have enough time to let the situation sink in but he used his quick reflexes to grab the kid’s hood and pull back. The katana missed the man’s head by a few inches.
Holy shit.
“Oh my God!” the man continued to shriek then he proceeded to scramble on his feet and hid behind the counter.
The kid flailed around for a moment before trying to stab him next. Luckily, Dick anticipated this and so used his height and flexibility to his advantage. He manage to avoid the unforgiving end of the katana before forcefully trying to pull it away from the kid’s grasp.
He’s basically just having a tug-of-war with a ten-year old with the rope being a deadly katana.
It was definitely hard with using only one hand to pull it away while he also have to hold the kid up with the other.
“Unhand me this instant, you bastard!”
Okay so he’s a homicidal brat and a potty mouth. Great.
“No can do.” Dick supressed the urge to sigh again for the third time that hour, “At least, not until I make sure you won’t kill the poor guy over there.”
“He deserves it!” the kid screeched and pulled at the katana harder. He also heard the guy whimper from behind the counter.
With how strong the rage the kid is fuelled with, Dick wasn’t really sure on how he’s still holding on to the katana.
“Jesus, kid. Calm down for a second.”
The answer he received is more disgruntled outbursts and revitalized tugging from the kid.
He needs a new tactic to use.
“How about we make a deal then?”
Surprisingly, the kid paused at that. He didn’t get to dwell on that because the other turned towards him and gave him such a dark and spine-chilling glare that may or may not rival the infamous Bat-glare (yeah that’s what he calls it).
“I shall not partake in a deal with a disgusting and vile figure of this society. I was not wrong to assume that the GCPG serve as a breeding ground for corruption and treacherous acts.”
Dick bristled at that. He felt temper suddenly flared up.
The kid noticed this and gave him a crooked and sharp grin, “Oh, did I hit a nerve there, detective?”
Fucking brat.
“Look, I have been really, really patient with you, young man but I think that you have gone far enough.” He growled out, “And haven’t anyone told you that it’s not nice to start spouting assumptions? That could really get you in trouble.”
The other blinked at him and something flashed through his eyes but it was gone before Dick was able to identify it.
The kid’s expression turned blank. He gestured towards the katana and deadpanned, “I am not nice.”
Dick rolled his eyes and wrenched the weapon away from the other’s grasp. Immediately, the kid reached after it and bared his teeth at him like some pissed-off cat.
“Return that at once!”
“And I will.” He drawled out, “I just need you to listen to what I have to say. I know that you don’t trust me like a lot and I get that but you have to understand that I can’t let you murder the pet shop owner.”
He saw the other starting to open their mouth so he spoke up again quickly, “However, I can offer an alternative where I call the Animal Control and let them deal with this. They’re much more qualified with handling this sort of situation.”
The kid remained silent. He was probably contemplating the pros and cons of his offer.
Smart kid. Murderous, bratty, and a potty mouth but definitely smart.
“-Tt- very well then.” The kid crossed his arms and held his chin up, “I accept your alternative offer but do not think for a moment that I trust people of your calibre.”
“Should you do something that upset me, I will not hesitate to take you down.” His eyes flicked towards his name badge for a moment before settling on his eyes, “I will be watching you, Grayson.”
Dick let the third sigh of that hour escape his lips.
“Duly noted.”
Please continue reading here:
#nightwing#bat family#batman#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#red hood#tim drake#red robin#damian wayne#robin#civilian dick grayson#police officer dick grayson#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#duke thomas#barbara gordon#dc comics#dc fandom#dc universe#fanfiction#ao3#ao3fic
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honestly i have no idea how i’m supposed to make it to ep 165
because 162 killed me, like 3 times
spoilers below the cut!
ITS GERRY!!!!!! MR KEAY I MISS YOU
but this is the first time we’ve actually Heard him, not secondhand or with spooky ghost echo, just as a normal voice on a tape. and i just want to hug him so much because ohhhh boy he has no idea what’s going to happen and also i am love him
“do i get to hear them?” “perhaps. if you live long enough.” shut up gertrude shut the fuck up don’t just mention gerry dying so casually its Rude
hmmm i might write a fic where jon, sasha and gerry are somehow all the archivist because I Can Do What I Want
ooo here we have more fire in the archives foreshadowing
did. did gerry’s chair scrape when gertrude raised her voice. like he flinched. someone hug this man
and then his voice goes all quiet when gertrude is lecturing him and Mary Keay Can Catch These Hands
“you are occasionally useful despite your foolishness” wowwww gertrude. what glowing praise. don’t just say that to his face come onnnn
but “useful” though. “useful”. i know we already know gertrude is an ‘ends justify means’ type character but goddamn if that isn’t just a perfect description of her relationships with people: categorised by their use to her plans and nothing more
“the network of sinister tunnels that snake beneath the archive” gertrude definitely knows about the tunnels lets be real. she’s just protecting jurgen leitner stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner goddamn fool book collecting dust eating rat old bastard shithead idiot avatar of the whore
what i wouldn’t give for gerry to have canonically beaten up jurgen leitner more than once. that’s going in my triple archivist fic
“what happens if we fail” oh. oh no. oh no whats gertrude going to say
“i suspect death puts us beyond their power” hmmm. seems like a fair point but i feel like the end would come up with some fuckery because this universe is a bastard and doesn’t let anyone get the rest they deserve. this isn’t really important to the plot (at least I Hope Not) but the thought of eldritch fear gods being able to reach us after death... chills
“[actual death] is preferable to lingering in a world they control” oh no that’s not good for jon to hear
“they might even stop death entirely.” hmmm. HMMMMMM
“and taxes?” “taxes i imagine will continue” hell yeah jonny get his ass (’him’ being capitalism). also i know the coronavirus lockdown isnt exactly an apocalypse caused by eldritch fear gods forcing themselves through into our world, but considering the shit thats been going on? yeah i imagine taxes would continue
“could it be undone?” “no, i don’t think so” oh no. oh no jon. jon nooo. he’s just playing it over and over and god he must be feeling so guilty and helpless. he also gets a hug. and another. and then three more. then one more but it lasts for like an hour before i have to phase back into my own dimension
TIM AND SASHA i’m still not prepared to hear their voices i love they
sasha is so competent she’s incredible and i am in awe of her
hell yeah tim is drinking his respect woman juice
“jimmy magma. joany magnum? jack magnet” asjdfhakjfhakjhfk tim you’re the best
“what if we kill him” Fuck Off Jonny You Can’t Do That
SADHJA WAS GOIJNG YO QUIKT I AM SJDFHKJLASLKFDJGKSDJHF
holy fuck we got canon timsasha. also “you’re not the love interest”??? sasha was a lesbian. source: me, also a lesbian. who can Do What She Wants
“you might be the character they drop after the pilot” sasha no dont say that!!!! as the character who was dropped after the pilot (ok season not episode but still) i have determined that is Illegal. and yes i know sasha was killed off for entirely valid reasons and not just dropped but shhhh i am hurting
“i dont have anything keeping me here” oh sasha. oh you sweet summer child. i wish that was the case. i really do
oh hey sasha knew about tim’s brother? martin told tim about his CV? THE S1 ARCHIVE STAFF WERE FRIENDS AND I MISS THEM A LOT BECAUSE GODDAMMIT THE S3/4 STAFF DIDN’T FOUND-FAMILY LIKE THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO
“no such thing as the real you”? “it’s all just masks”??? jonny stop stop im already dead you dont need to kill me again
(god i fucking hate that i get the stanislavsky bit. i only did drama gcse but the exam was terrible because none of the exam board’s practice questions were even anywhere close so no one was prepared and i spent so long revising all these pointless notes on how to answer the difficult questions and i regret it So Much and any reminder of that fucking bullshit exam i had to do Fills Me With Rage
“if you get eaten alive by improperly filed statements, me and martin will avenge you... we’ll burn this place to the ground.” god i am in pain. not only do we have more archives arson foreshadowing but we also have this line that hits like a punch in the gut because they didn’t avenge sasha, did they?
“i find it highly unlikely this sasha ever even existed at all” “i’m unforgettable” shut up shut the fuck up is this allowed? IS THIS ALLOWED???? because it fucking shouldnt be. it’s murder jonny time lads!!!
is. is jon crying. oh no
and then he gets fucking posessed by the cabin?? i love how the format of the statements has changed its very interesting
The One You Love The One You Love The One You Love
jonmartin are so in love that even eldritch fear cabins can’t not see it. jonny really said “you can read their relationship as platonic... but i am going to do my goddamn best to make that hard for you” huh
and fuck, this statement. it’s so creepy and i love how we cant distinguish which entity it is, because does it even matter any more? the list of 14 was a human creation anywhere, i think the ‘different parts of a body’ metaphor l*itner used is makes more sense now. it doesn’t matter which part of the body is attacking you, it matters that you’re being attacked in the first place so figuring out which part it is isn’t really a priority any more
but i think it’s mostly stranger and spiral? i also get very vague corruption vibes from the description of the planks because “they are warmer, softer and more yielding than the timber they present”? ugghhhh. corruption has often been associated with this kind of ‘wrong’ warmth (think jon amherst) and it also brings to mind that episode where the guy nails meat all over his walls and the rot makes the statement giver’s ceiling collapse. but then there’s the lonely there too, because yes jonmartin have each other but jon says it himself: “it will not let you feel the warmth of joy this love may claim to gift”. just try tell me the concept of being unable to find happiness in love isn’t Lonely, even if it’s not entirely true
but yeah basically i love the merging of entities present in this creepy statement
“our tomb” huh. the pov changes here, it’s gone from talking about jon in second person, to talking as jon in first person. so if jon wasn’t possessed by SpOoKy CaBiN like i thought (because if he was, why would he suddenly switch like this? it doesnt make sense)... then what was making that statement? my instinct is to say it was The Archivist or rather, The Archives talking about jon but like a separate personality, which... yikes
“[this will be] my chrysalis. it is time that i emerge.” monster jon? monster jon. this line gave me chills because damnnnn i love me some good eldritch!jon
“i wanted to leave and hunt down elias” hell yeah jon go and brutal pipe murder that bastard its what you deserve
martin has packed bags already and he brought tea and i love him so muchhhhh
and jon’s smile is AUDIBLE he loves martin so much my tiny heart can’t handle it
“we got this.” “apparently so 😍 “ just tell me you can’t hear the heart eyes in jon’s voice. oh wait. you cant
LET MARTIN BURN SOMETHING ITS WHAT HE DESERVES
“we can’t fight the world, martin” “says you” afkjhasfkjhadkjghdakjghakdgf
to summarise:
get ready for me to type out the same summary for all 40 episodes because jesus fucking christ. jonny’s writing never fails to make me Feel All The Emotions at once. i give this one a spooky sentient cabin out of 10
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I die inside while dissecting Jesus music, part 3
Yep. Doing this shit again. It might take me a hot minute to write this one up, but I’ll get it done sooner or later.
This one gets a bit more fucky than usual, so here’s a few (US) suicide hotline numbers and a rather serious trigger warning. If you’re going to have a hard time with religious trauma, weird indirect forms of suicidality, and that kind of thing, go read something more wholesome. Practice self care better than I do. For the love of all you hold holy, my thoughts are less important than your well-being. Do not read this if it’ll hurt you to do so.
National suicide prevention lifeline: 1-800-273-8255
Trevor Project lifeline: 1-866-488-7386
The Crisis Text Line: text HOME to 741-741
Trans Lifeline: 1-877-565-8860
I’ve looked through my playlist trying to find a song that I don’t remember as being repetitive as fuck. There are artists out there who don’t make their shit sad and modular for church camps and I was at least somewhat into their stuff. There are also older hymns. The playlist is mostly full of that weird shitty contemporary Christian music, but somewhere nestled in between stacks of almost painfully similar songs from Hillsong (they’re not all samey, but they get pretty repetitive) is Audrey Assad’s Even Unto Death.
At first glance, listening back, it seems to have some of the same formatting elements as the shitty modern-styled songs I’ve gotten tired of, but it gives me a very different vibe for a few reasons. First, Assad’s general body of work as I can find it on Youtube (and is also stored in my playlist) is largely older hymns, and that’s her general style. This song is, as far as I can tell, an original work, but its instrumental and melodic style is heavily influenced by the vibe that older hymns give off. Second, the bridge is more varied and interesting than that of Even So Come or Gracefully Broken. The song does, in the final bridge and in the choruses, engage in some repetition, but at a level that I find far closer to what’s typical in secular music. Third, the melody reminds me somewhat of old hymns in a way I don’t know exactly how to describe. I just imagine it with piano and SATB choir. Most modern Christian music just doesn’t land like that. But for the trauma, I’d say analyzing this song might end up being a breath of fresh air.
But for the trauma...
Anyway. Here are the lyrics, and here is the video again.
The song is formatted in a way that’s nearly typical of a pop song. You have a verse (in this case composed of “Jesus”, two lines of bullshit, “Jesus” again, and two more lines of bullshit), a three line chorus repeated twice, a second verse (same format), the chorus again but this time with a more personal form of address on the second time through, the bridge (which Genius divides into four distinct sections) with some repetitions of the final lines, the chorus again, and an outro that’s basically just some repetitions of lines in the chorus and then “Jesus” and the first line of bullshit from the first verse, twice.
So let’s get into this.
First verse:
Jesus
The very thought of You
It fills my heart with love
Jesus
You burn like wildfire
And I am overcome
Alright. These lines are (clearly) addressed towards Jesus. (Speaking to him directly is a thing people do.) The song has a bit of a mix of a romantic bent and something a... little bit weirder, and both are starting to become visible in this first verse. The first couplet is like... straightforward. The singer is very in love with Jesus and even thinking of him makes her feel things. She’s not quite doing a John Donne here, I don’t think, but this is a pretty strong thing and this is part of why I say there’s a romantic bent to this. The second stanza contains that “fire” imagery that’s often associated with the Christian god, most often the Holy Spirit, that serves the purpose of showing how believers’ whole beings should be consumed by God. Then she says “I am overcome”. This reads to me like one of those “this makes me feel things to a degree I don’t know what to do with” kind of things, but there’s an element of what I’ll describe as a conquest narrative here. ...Again, not quite doing a John Donne, but not not doing it either.
Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
Next comes the chorus, and I think it bears mention now rather than somewhere strange like I’d normally do it because this verse flows right into it.
Lover of my soul
Even unto death
With my every breath I will love You
It plays through this twice.
Gives me the same kind of vibe as Job 13:15 here.
“Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him: but I will maintain mine own ways before him.” The difference here is Assad’s song mentions love, which I guess goes beyond trust. So it’s even a bit crazier, and the “with my every breath” thing is the absolute kicker. This means she’s wanting to do literally everything, literally everything, in a way that expresses her love for Jesus. Extreme sentiments like this aren’t uncommon in song, sure, but given that we’re discussing Christianity...
it’s not just hyperbole, they actually think this way and it’s very fucking toxic.
Also the chorus is the main reason I say this has a romantic bent. “Lover of my soul” is a fucking juicy lyric.
Jesus
You are my only hope
And You, my prize shall be
Jesus
You are my glory now
And in eternity
I think this second verse is mostly straightforward too. Literally just “Jesus is the entire source of my hope and I see him as a prize for whatever I’m doing” and “Jesus is my glory now and forever”. Glory here refers to like... honor and magnificence. In Christian parlance it refers to the condition that believers will be in after the world is overthrown by Jesus and me and all my fellow non-believing sexual deviants get hyucked straight into the eternal fire. It’s just like... shorthand for being “cleansed of sin” or whatever and living with God for eternity. I don’t know what circles Assad is active in; she might have a different take on this than I’m inclined to, but honestly given my understanding of this concept that’s primarily fueled by Protestant views and especially Evangelicalism, I’m inclined to read this as an empty threat.
Oof.
Onto the bridge.
I notice now that the bridge has essentially two main sections. Genius says four; that’s a weird choice to me because each section they label is not doing a separate thing, but the two I see, based more on the repetition of the last two lines of each stanza and the similarity of the sentiment in the first half of each, very much are.The first chunk of it goes like this:
In my darkest hour
In humiliation
I will wait for You
I am not forsaken
The idea here is that even in the darkest hour of their life or humiliating moments, the singer is trusting in God to get them through it and like... idk, remedy their humiliation or make it worthwhile somehow? This serves as a reminder that God hasn’t left even if it looks like he might’ve.
Genius does a bit of a fucky-wucky here in the second section. They replace “though” with “oh”. I’m not sure how they could’ve messed this up, the video they link is literally the same lyric video that I linked, produced by Assad’s literal official artist channel, and the video shows this section the way I do below.
Though I lose my life
Though my breath be taken
I will wait for You
I am not forsaken
This second chunk is more of the same “even if this destroys me I’ll trust you God”. Job 13:15 again, basically. Again, not hyperbole, they actually aspire to this. It’s not healthy at all. This first half of the bridge is basically just “haha I’m devoted to this relationship to the point of self-betrayal and inaction.”
Oof.
Second half:
One thing I desire
To see You in Your beauty
You are my delight
Yeah, You are my glory
So this third section is basically just inserting verse 2 into the bridge in slightly different words, but the role it plays here, juxtaposed so much more directly with the extreme, self-betraying devotion expressed in the first half of the bridge, is more as a declaration that Jesus is the only thing that truly matters to the singer. Like the entire vibe here is “this life doesn’t even matter to me, yeet this body and idgaf, just let me go see Jesus.” I think I mentioned in a previous post, I think another one of these depression-spiking jesus song dissections, that this kind of mindset leads to what I’ll describe as a soft form of suicidality in which someone desires death by way of yelling at people for Jesus in places where that’s dangerous to do. If the singer’s only real desire is to see Jesus, then they’re very much at risk for this. Which prompts the question...
Is Audrey Assad okay?
You my sacrifice
Oh, Your love is all consuming
You are my delight
Yeah, You are my glory
Yeah, oh You are my glory
God, yeah You are my glory
Yeah
So aside from the “sacrifice” line here, which I’ll get to, this whole thing is more of the same. All-consuming love, Jesus is her delight, blah blah. The sacrifice thing refers to the crucifixion and to the framework Christianity posits by which blood needs to be spilled so that God can decide not to fucking yeet someone into an unending fire hole and that Jesus came to be the final perfect sacrifice so that no one needs to stab a goat or whatever the fuck again.
After this there’s the chorus and the outro that’s basically just the end of the chorus and then the first two lines repeated a bit, you know, just as this last little reminder that dying is ok if it’s for Jesus.
Which I guess is the overarching message of this song too. Dying is fun if it’s for Jesus, kids! Also let’s definitely not do a John Donne!
I feel like I reference that poem a lot. But it goddamn fits. Like terrifyingly well. I think the reason I latched onto that poem so hard when I learned about it in my literature survey course last fall is because, minus the borderline sexual nature of Donne’s thoughts here, it maps onto my own experience very goddamn hard. I went far enough into Assad’s self-betraying devotion to God for a while there that I fantasized about dying for Jesus in a country where that’s likely. Suicide by martyrdom, if you will.
On that note, here are the hotlines again.
National suicide prevention lifeline: 1-800-273-8255
Trevor Project lifeline: 1-866-488-7386
The Crisis Text Line: text HOME to 741-741
Trans Lifeline: 1-877-565-8860
If you read this far, I guess thanks for being interested in my thoughts, and I really hope this didn’t trigger anything too serious.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I should probably go talk to my therapist about this.
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