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musette22 · 3 years

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Hi Minnie! Hope you can help me settle an argument my brother and I are having about EG!Steve. I'd love to hear your thoughts about this with shipping goggles off, looking at it purely in terms of characterization, narrative, and good writing. Better hang on though, it's going to be a long ask! (sorry in advance for spamming you!) 1/7

So my brother and I were watching FatWS and once again got into a debate about whether Steve's last actions were a disservice or in line with his characterization and narrative, given that the Russos confirmed (and therefore it's Word of God/canon, even if it did sound reactionary to the immediate backlash after EG) that Steve created an alternate reality when he went back, and didn't just live in hiding in the past of the OG timeline. 2/7

Because of this, my bro argued that: 1) the total character assassination that is the idea of Steve just sitting back and letting all the shit happen happen is no longer a problem - for all we know, the alternate reality oldman!Steve came from might have become utopic already due to his presence and foresight. He played coy when talking to Sam so we don't know for certain he didn't save Bucky, get rid of Hydra, and enact social reform when he had the chance. 3/7

Likewise, 2) the accusation that Steve would rob Peggy of her husband and children is a non-issue as Steve went back to a time before Peggy and Daniel got together - I argued here that it was still wrong for him to do given that he KNEW for a fact that Peggy lived a happy life, whereas it was a gamble if he could give her the same. My bro shot back when you truly loved someone, you want them to be happy and to have what's best for them. 4/7

So if Steve chose to go back to Peggy, he had to have believed that he could give her the best life. That Steve based that decision purely on his own assessment is pretty in character (e.g. pushing to become a soldier because he thought that was how he could do his part, even though at the time, he'd have just been a danger to himself and other soldiers; not signing the Accords because he believed in his team's judgment in crises above gov't oversight that might be influenced by politics). 5/7

And lastly 3) he might have settled into the past and started to move on, but what was wrong with him choosing to be selfish and going to the past when given a chance? Why was it wrong for him to go back to a time he knew, where he was beloved by both Peggy and the public, and when he could also save Bucky early? In terms of character growth, wouldn't it be fair for him to finally learn he could be a bit selfish and choose happiness, after a lifetime of nearly suicidal selflessness? 6/7

Our debate was based on confirmed canon with shipping put aside. So I put forth the sin of leaving a traumatized Bucky, Sam, and world behind, that Steve's actions were surely the result of a man broken by grief again and again, and that choosing the past was him running away - which, I argued, was a horrible way to end his character arc. But my brother asked me why I thought so, because wasn't this the so-called 'soft epilogue' that Steve deserved, one that was most in line with canon? 7/7

***************

Hey love! Very interesting argument you and your brother are having here… I’m sure he’s a great guy but I have to say that I vehemently disagree with him (as you probably already guessed lol). Soooo many people have done an excellent job at explaining why, shipping aside, Steve’s ending in EG was absolute bollocks, and I’m certain I could never argue this case as well as all of them have. Nevertheless, I’ll do my best to explain why, in my opinion, your brother is wrong :p I’m going to put my reply under the keep reading tag, because it is long.

1. The Russos and Markus & McFeely (the writers) never managed to agree on whether Steve really did go back to an alternate timeline, and if so, how that would have worked, exactly. When they were asked, after EG had been released, about whether Steve would have just sat back and let everything he knew was happening/going to happen in the decades to come, both to Bucky and to the world at large, they came up with this ‘alternate timeline’ solution, but they kept contradicting each other on the logistics and technicalities of it (like how would old man Steve suddenly be able to jump timelines to come back to give Sam the shield in EG? And how did EG Steve attend Peggy’s funeral, like they also suggested, which would technically have been in a different timeline?). Which makes it pretty clear that this wasn’t something they’d considered beforehand or even all agree on afterwards, and therefore it can’t technically allowed to play a role in judging the rightness of Steve’s ending in EG if we’re looking at it from a ‘the creator’s word is law’ perspective. Moreover, there is nothing to indicate in EG itself that Steve knew he’d be able to create alternate timelines, so that would’ve been a crazy gamble on his part. Also, him ‘playing coy’ in that final scene with Sam really isn’t a convincing indication that he was actually, canonically, talking about anything besides marrying Peggy.

2. Which bring us to point two: Peggy had literally told Steve she’d lived a happy life with her family, and told him in no uncertain terms to move on. If Steve really loved her, he would have accepted her wishes and allowed her the dignity of her choice (something Peggy herself, in CA:TFA, had told Steve was important to do when you care about someone) to move on from him once she believed him dead. Steve deciding that he would be better for Peggy because he believed was a better man than the person she ended up marrying originally would be the most un-like Steve thing to do, ever. Steve has never once shown that he thinks of himself as the hero or better than other people – he simply wants to do the best he can to help make the world a better place. He would never say “Peggy deserves the best and I believe I am the best, therefore she will have me, regardless of what she thinks or wants.” Steve drinks respect women juice, that’s clear from all of his movies, and deciding the course of her entire life for her, taking away her agency, whether in his own timeline or another, would be utterly disrespectful to Peggy.

3. As for the next point: of course there’s nothing wrong with Steve being selfish for once – Steve is human, and all humans are selfish sometimes, and that’s okay. But, as Chris Evans already explained multiple times prior to Endgame, Steve had already made selfish decisions in the past, namely when it came to getting Bucky back and keeping him safe. Shipping aside, Bucky was presented in all the Cap movies as Steve’s very best friend, and was even called his ‘soulmate’ (platonically or otherwise) by M&M (the writers). So when, in Civil War, Steve was presented with a choice between duty/what was expected of him by the government versus saving Bucky/keeping Bucky safe, Steve was selfish and chose Bucky. That, canonically, made sense. Peggy being presented as the ultimate love of Steve’s life, who he loved and valued more than anyone or anything else in the world (which is what happened in EG), canonically does not make sense.

In CA:TWS, Peggy told Steve to move on. When Peggy died, Steve buried her and mourned her, and then not long after, he canonically kissed Peggy’s niece. Then, in Infinity War, Steve saw Bucky turn to dust before his very eyes in the “Blip” (a conscious decision on the writers’/directors’ part to show how Steve once again lost what was most important to him while helplessly standing by) – and the next thing we know, Steve is leading a support group for other people who lost loved ones in the Blip, and starts talking about losing… Peggy? Huh. Also, Steve going back to a time which your brother calls “a time when he was beloved the public” doesn’t add up, either: technically, Steve went back to a time where people loved an idea of him, but also believed him to be dead. So either he would have had to have found a way to convincingly stage his own resurrection (meanwhile possibly leaving the other version to vegetate in the ice..? depending on how this timeline malarkey was supposed to work), or he would have lived his whole life hidden behind some fake persona – which does not sound like Steve at all, does it?

4. Finally, let’s talk about Bucky some more, because I think we need to to be able to assess the situation properly. I understand that your brother may believe that shippers are often delusional and only see what they want to see etc, but there is ample evidence, canonically, of Bucky being the most important person in Steve’s life – the person he would give up the shield for, the person he would give up his other friendships for, the person he would give up his life for. Peggy may have been a recurring character in character in the three Cap movies, but she was never presented as the principal motivator of his actions, or as the love of Steve’s life. You know who was? Bucky. Sure, that love wasn’t canonically romantic in nature, but there can’t be any doubt that Bucky meant more than anything to Steve. Therefore, Steve choosing to have a ‘soft epilogue’ that entails him spending the rest of his life without Bucky – and, more importantly, Bucky to spend the rest of his life without Steve – contradicts everything we’ve learned about their relationship (platonic or otherwise) in the rest of the movies, does it not?

Also, the Russos have said something to the effect that Bucky and Steve were now both mentally ‘well enough’ to not ‘need’ each other anymore (because as we all know, that’s exactly how friendships work…), but it’s pretty clear from EG that Steve was still traumatized by everything he’d been through, and going back to the 50s would have meant he would never be able to get proper help with that and in fact could only talk about any of it with Peggy and Peggy alone. Moreover, M&M have literally said in interviews that Bucky wasn’t all that well yet, mentally, and TFAWTS also shows convincingly that Bucky was not actually in a good place when Steve left him. So that would have meant that Steve either did not see this (unlikely, given how close they were) or did not care (unlikely, given how close they were).

It would have meant that for the first time in all these movies, Steve decided “to hell with Bucky’s needs, I’m gonna just be selfish because I’ve earned it and claim my trophy wife because actually I am the best man for her, despite the fact that she’s already lived a happy life that I will be negating against her wishes, but that’s fine because maybe I’ll be able to create a different timeline, and maybe I’ll be able to save Bucky from all his trauma anyway, but then again maybe not, but that brings me back to my first point of to hell with Bucky’s needs” - which does not make a lot of sense to me, personally. Not to mention that, in exchange for his ‘soft epilogue’, Steve would also leave the world to sort out the post-Blip mess without him, and leave all the other friends he still had left and clearly cared about a lot to boot. I would not call that character growth, I would call that character disintegration. If your brother insists on taking the creator’s word as gospel and that we have to accept that Steve really did do what he did at the end of Endgame, and that wasn’t just a case of bad, lazy writing fuelled by greed, then to make a decision like this, Steve would have been either an asshole in disguise all along, or mentally extremely unstable.

There you have it, my two cents! I hope this helps a little in settling the argument with your brother, anon! Lots of love ❤️

#anti endgame #steve rogers #minnie answers #Anonymous

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momentofmemory · 3 years

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FICTOBER 2020 - day thirty-one

Prompt #31: “I trust you.”

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall.

Words: 2218

Author’s Note: an underappreciated aspect of chess culture? games played for fun are called Skittles. set post 5B, Scott & Stiles take a break to play a game of chess, and wind up talking about a whole lot more than just a game. Gen fic, Scott & Stiles focus. Stiles POV.

>> j’adoube (i adjust)

Stiles tosses his pen in the air. Watches it flip, twice. Catches it, barely. Toss and repeat.

“Hey, Scott.”

Scott, who’s sitting across from him at the desk, just grunts without looking up. They’ve been going over scholarships together for the past three hours, and it’s the most mind-numbing use of a Saturday Stiles has had in a very long time.

Which, considering most of his Saturdays have been more of the terrifyingly bloody variety, is probably still preferable. But still.

“Scoooooooott.”

Scott flips to the next page. “Mm?”

Stiles throws his pen at him and smacks him squarely across the face.

“Ow, Stiles—what?”

Stiles flips over onto his stomach, triumphant to have finally gotten Scott’s full attention. “You wanna play a game?”

Scott puts his own pen down and leans back in the chair, stretching and popping in a way that suggests being hunched over for that long is unpleasant for even a werewolf. “What kind? Board game?”

Stiles grins.

Board games, to his mind, are sacrosanct.

Not necessarily because he loves them—given a free range of choices, he’d rather do just about anything else—but because it’s so easy for them to suck.

Yahtzee, Monopoly, Shoots and Ladders, Candy Land, Sorry, even Risk—there’s just too much luck involved for his taste. Draw randomized but predetermined cards, roll uncontrollable dice. And that’s not even touching the disaster that’s Life, where the only two choices that ever matter are college or career, kids or no kids.

Absolutely nothing about bite or no bite, or possession or no possession.

Or ‘betrayed by a monster that gets your best friend killed and your crush of five years committed to an asylum,’ but.

Either way, it’s a joke.

There are better board games. Clue or Scrabble, which still rely on the hand that’s dealt, but at least can be salvaged with enough knowledge and strategy.

But he has the best one in mind for today.

“Chess?”

Scott’s eyes light up with a competitive glint Stiles feels like he hasn’t seen in ages, and he knows he’s won.

“I could do a round or two,” Scott says.

“Oh, thank god—”

“But, then we have to get back to work on these.”

“Yep, uh-huh, absolutely,” Stiles says, rolling off the bed and hunting underneath it for his set.

He fully intends to bribe Scott into playing way more than that, but one thing at a time.

His fingers close over the wooden case and he draws it out, blowing a bit of dust off the top. He turns it over in his hands.

If board games are sacrosanct, then chess is the holy grail.

Most people don’t get the attraction, and he respects that. It takes a certain level of concentration to be good at chess, and considering how many strategy books he’s read on the topic—even if he rarely remembers them—he can beat a casual player without too much effort. Plus, most people prefer games that don’t require much thought, perfectly wiling to just roll their dice and move their mice.

Stiles respects that a lot less.

What he likes about chess is that it’s the one game that’s completely and totally winnable every time—with no variation from chance or random dealing. He might be outmatched, but he’s not outnumbered.

Every choice he makes is fully his own.

It’s the best game.

The only marginal difference is that white has a slight advantage, as it gets to go first, so as Stiles tosses the set onto the bed he says, “I can be black this time.”

Scott barely glances up from the scholarship he’s still worrying himself over. “Hm? No, that’s okay, I don’t mind. You can take white.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and flops onto the bed. “You’ve been black the past like, eight times we’ve played. You’re white this time.”

“Stiles, I really don’t care if you want it.”

It’s an innocuous statement, but Stiles’ temper flares because all he can hear is that Scott thinks he needs the advantage—even if it’s one that, statistically, barely even matters. “What, because you don’t think I can beat you otherwise?”

“What? No, Stiles, I—” Scott falls silent, and it’s enough to instantly cool Stiles’ frustration. “I just—never mind. I can be white.”

Stiles hesitates for a few beats, then turns the board and starts setting the pieces up so the white ones are facing Scott.

He pauses. He’s been trying to pay more attention to Scott lately, but it’s hard—Scott tends to fold pretty quickly on smaller issues, and he tends to—

Well.

Not.

“Then again,” he tries, “I guess it doesn’t really matter—”

“You asked me to play white, so I’ll play white.” Scott’s voice is flat. “You were right; we haven’t switched it up in a while, so it’s only fair. Just give me a sec to finish this.”

“…Okay.”

Stiles toys with the edge of the board as he waits for Scott to finish restacking the papers.

One of the reasons Stiles likes chess is because it makes for a surprisingly good Rorschach test, and he’s played it with every member of the pack at some point or another.

Liam’s not much of a challenge, mostly because he’s made it clear he doesn’t care. The one time they played, he’d started strong—aiming to capture more than aiming to secure—but his failure to consider long-term strategy had gotten him into trouble almost immediately. With Malia, she has a good concept of how to control the center of the board, and favors trap-based strategy, but her ability to pay attention to her opponent’s gameplay is usually her downfall. Lydia tends to focus on a bishop and pawn strategy, which works very well for her mostly because it infuriates Stiles—his own strategy relies heavily on a more spontaneous approach to movement, and her method thoroughly demarcates most of the board. That’s probably why he enjoys playing with Kira, whose strategy rotates every time they play—as soon as he’d introduced her to the game, she’d started binging chess tutorials at speeds that put his own research to shame.

He hasn’t had the chance to play with the new pack members, but he has his guesses as to how that will go. Mason will play circles around him, but be super nice about it. Hayden will either trounce him thoroughly if she cares, or lose terribly if she doesn’t, and there will be nothing in between. Corey… Corey will probably favor the knights, which will make him hard to beat on the front end, but almost impossible to lose to in the endgame.

But he can work with that. All of those strategies make sense; make it easier for him to understand and categorize them.

He looks down at the white and black pieces, standing silently in anticipation of the match.

He can’t think of any reason Scott would want to reject the advantage, unless it was just for his benefit, but he hadn’t appeared to be lying.

And now Scott probably won’t tell him because he’d snapped at him instead of just asking.

Stiles winces and rakes his hands through his hair.

It’s just a chess preference. It’s not like it matters.

Except it does, because everything between them feels so fragile after Theo.

Stiles’ thoughts are interrupted when Scott vaults onto the bed, accidentally knocking one of the pawns forward as the board lists to the side.

“Whoops,” Scott says. The tiniest of smirks appears on his face as he moves to fix it. “J’adoube.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to announce that that’s not your move when I can clearly see what just happened.”

“Can’t be too careful,” Scott says, adjusting the piece. “You’ve definitely called me out for less in the past.”

“You tried to change your mind after wrapping your whole hand around a bishop! How is that less?”

Scott shrugs, and Stiles is relieved he doesn’t seem to be bothered about the pieces anymore. “I’m just saying. Can’t be too careful.”

“A mindset I would normally endorse wholeheartedly, however.”

Scott laughs, then settles in cross-legged and stares down at the board, elbows resting on his knees and face furrowed in contemplation.

Stiles glances at Scott, then at board, then back at Scott again.

Scott doesn’t move.

Suddenly, it’s really bothering Stiles that despite having played with him more than anyone else, despite knowing him better than anyone else, Stiles still doesn’t understand why Scott plays the way he does.

It’s not that Scott’s exceptionally bad, or that Scott’s exceptionally good. It’s that he’s both.

When he plays with Stiles, he matches him step for step, pivoting his goals almost as quickly as Stiles does. But the few times Stiles’ seen Scott play with others, that ability seems to vanish—his level of competence almost directly mapped onto the level of the person he’s playing with, above or below where Stiles would expect it.

It doesn’t make sense, but that’s just Scott. Stiles had long since acknowledged that there were always going to be some things that didn’t make sense about his best friend.

That was before Theo. Before everything that was Scott & Stiles fell apart.

And also, Scott still hasn’t moved.

“Hey Scott?” Stiles waits until he glances up at him, chin still resting in his hands. “You gonna go, bud?”

“Yeah,” Scott says. He blinks down at the board. “There’s just… a lot of options.”

“Okay, right, that’s true,” Stiles says. “But it’s also just the first move.”

“Yeah.”

Scott reaches out and touches the pawn from before. He hovers there for a moment, then retracts his hand—the pawn still unmoved.

Stiles clears his throat.

“Really? You want me to—” Scott sighs. “J’adoube.”

“Technically, you’re supposed to say that before you touch it.”

“And technically, you said I didn’t have to say it earlier, so that one could count for the one I just did.”

“Bro,” Stiles says, because this is getting ridiculous. “Literally just move the pawn. Or a knight. Or any of the other pawns. There are zero other options.”

“I know, I know,” Scott says. “I just… what if I move this piece, and then you move like your knight or something, and it turns out I made the wrong move?”

Stiles squints at him. “It’s your move. Why would my move, which comes afterward, make yours wrong?”

“Because I have to stop your plan.”

“Right, but like.” Stiles tilts his head. “What about your plan?”

“That is my plan.”

Stiles’ brain short circuits, and he spins rapidly through every game he’s ever watched Scott play. “So—so wait. You mean every time you’re playing you’re just… trying to figure out your opponent’s plan? You’re not making one of your own?”

“I mean, kinda?” Scott reaches for the pawn again, then pauses before touching it. “J’adoube.”

“Yeah, whatever, just move the pawn,” Stiles says. “So earlier, it wasn’t about wanting me to have an advantage; you wanted black because… it’s to your advantage?”

Scott spins the pawn around in a slow circle, then lets go of it without moving its position. Again.

“I guess,” he says. “You like playing white better and I like black better, so it just… makes more sense to let us play the ones we actually prefer.”

“Then why didn’t you just say that?”

Scott shrugs. “It just seemed like it was important to you, and I… I didn’t want to argue.” His eyes drop, and so does his voice. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore.”

Something clicks in Stiles’ mind. “J’adoube.”

“Uh,” Scott looks pointedly at the pieces, which are still unmoved, and his hands, which aren’t anywhere near them. “What?”

“‘I adjust,’” Stiles says. “That’s what you’ve been doing. Adjusting your plan to match mine, or—or anyone else.”

Scott picks at the edge of his sleeve. “And that’s bad?”

“Um.” Stiles hasn’t gotten that far. “No? I mean like, you’re clearly very good at it. You’ve definitely beat me enough times doing it.”

“I sense a ‘but.’”

“See, there you go, anticipating me again. You’re a pro.”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah, okay, the point.” Stiles glances down at the chessboard—and then at the pile of scholarships, too. “Look, I’m just saying you gotta just take the shot sometimes. Or move the pawn. Whatever. My point is, it’s okay to make your own plans.”

Scott shifts a bit to look behind him at the paperwork, something both worried and hopeful in his expression.

“And then, y’know,” Stiles continues, “you can always adjust them later if you have to. But you don’t have to start out that way.”

Scott picks up the pawn and turns it about in his fingers. He bites his lip. “And… you trust this to work?”

“Nah, man.” Stiles settles back against the wall and nods towards the board. “It’s the first move; I have no idea how it’ll play out. But… I trust you enough to know that you can handle it if it doesn’t.”

Scott’s eyes get suspiciously bright, but Stiles doesn’t comment. “I trust you, too.”

(And, well.)

(If Stiles’ eyes get a little bright too, no one comments on that either.)

Scott moves the pawn to e4, and lets it go.

#fictober20 #fanfiction #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #chess metaphors

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tomorrowsdrama · 4 years

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Hyena Ep. 16

I’m baaack! Kind of. I think I hit that point in my quarantine life where I kind of lost my mind so I went on an unexpected hiatus that lasted longer than intended. I know it’s been over a month after the finale of Hyena but here are my ramblings. This post is super long so I’ll save my thoughts on the series as a whole for another post.

Objectively, it was a pretty good finale that was entertaining and wrapped up the important plot lines. We even got some sweet otp moments (more on that later) and satisfying smackdown of the bad guy. But subjectively? Personally? Purely based on my selfish expectations? I wanted more romance! More sexiness! I wasn’t expecting a wedding or anything like that but, not even one kiss? Or a long embrace? Why????

I mean, how can you give me all this sexy chemistry in the promos:

And then not make use of it in the finale? That’s just not fair I say! I feel bamboozled!

Ep. 16

Anyway, let’s talk about the parts I enjoyed of the finale. This is mainly (99%) going to be about the moments between Geum Ja and Hee Jae. So on the morning of episode 16, way back when, I woke up so excited for the finale. Since this was the last episode, surely there will be a kiss! And surely it would be epic given the chemistry between JJH and KHS. I mean did you see that kiss in episode 8? So when we started off the episode with the scene of Hee Jae telling Geum Ja he didn’t want to see her hurt anymore, I was amped. Yes, we’re starting off strong with the romantic scenes I thought.

How can you not fall for him?

Geum Ja, you are not a gangster, you do not need to show your story through the scars on your body. Joking aside, it’s sad that she’s been through so much in life that she has the scars to prove it.

I love that Hee Jae says this half-sarcastically but you can tell that he truly does not want Geum Ja to go through any more pain/suffering. And it’s his sincerity that makes Geum Ja smile so softly. And this is where they kiss right?

Nope, he gets a hearty bro punch in the shoulder.

Cut for lots of caps and ramblings. It’s a bit of a mini novel, you’ve been warned!

Mmm I loved how many scenes of concerned Hee Jae we got in this episode.

Geum Ja screams from a nightmare and Hee Jae immediately runs into the office to check on her. The only way he could have reacted so quickly is if he was sitting outside the office guarding Geum Ja which...AHHH I think I’ve just died and gone to hurt/comfort heaven. Just look at JJH’s face.

EEE! I audibly squealed when Geum Ja said this. Ok, now I’ve truly died. Geum Ja? Asking to be comforted? By Hee Jae? What? This is major. She’s finally letting down her walls a little bit around Hee Jae and allowing herself to be vulnerable. Keep on leaning I say! Lean all the way into bed.

Omg and then she showed concern over Hee Jae’s own emotional state despite her own trauma. His dad totally betrayed him just a few hours ago so Hee Jae’s having a pretty shitty day too. But of course, Hee Jae is only concerned about Geum Ja. Ahh, how many times is he going to make me swoon in this episode?

Feet piled on top of each other?! Are they finally in bed together?

Of course not. Unfortunately, this isn’t that type of drama. SIGH. But this is still very sweet and squeal-inducing.

Have I talked about how much I love JJH’s little sly smirks?

I love that these two fools can’t stop worrying about the other. Geum Ja knows better than anyone how deep emotional scars caused by a parent can be. On top of that, Hee Jae’s father was someone he respected and loved, so the blow is even bigger. I just really like it when my otp show how much they care about each other, ok?

Look at that smile on Hee Jae’s face. It’s like there’s no other place he would rather be than next to Geum Ja.

No, please don’t. Y’all are not 12. Please get at least a queen size bed with plenty of room for two adults to move around in and do...adult things lol.

And then. AND THEN! Geum Ja takes the initiative and turns over towards Hee Jae. She’s finally the one taking the first step towards him without any prodding. And Hee Jae smiles to himself and follows her lead to turn over also. And then the two fools smile lovingly at each other as they fall asleep. Omg, excuse me, I need a moment. I’ve temporarily passed on to the other side from sheer otp happiness.

This moment was just too good. I literally raised both my arms up into the air and cheered when I first watched this episode. I thought, wow the writers are feeding us so well. They’re showering us with so many romantic scenes. The otp caring for each other? Being tender with each other? Sharing a “bed?” I don’t want to ever get off this love train, keep it coming! This is only the first third of the episode so surely it can only go up from here.

And then it ended on a comedic note. I guess I should have seen that coming. This is SBS, not TVN (or JTBC from the looks of The World of the Married). Hah, well I suppose they both had a pretty tiring day so it’s understandable that they would not have much energy to do anything else.

It’s the little everyday things like asking if she’s ok that get me.

(JJH I thirst for you.)

Suuuuure you are.

Lol, he wouldn’t be Hee Jae if he didn’t pull something childish/petty. At least Geum Ja is amused by it and finds it cute now. Get you a man who can be both your emotional support and amusing bratty boyfriend.

Geum Ja does end up meeting Hee Jae for dinner and he can’t help but smile a little. Gosh, it takes so little from Geum Ja to make him happy.

(damn, look at that profile!)

So some time during this episode, Geum Ja’s adoptive father died off-screen from the stab wound he sustained while stopping her assailant. At first, I went “Huh, that’s it?” But then the more I thought about it, the more I liked how matter-of-factly it was treated. It’s certainly consistent with how Geum Ja deals with things. Also, she faced her demons/him in a previous episode so you could say that she already resolved that chapter of her life.

Still, you could tell that she’s not completely unaffected by it. KHS’s acting in this scene is so good. You can tell there’s more to it than what she’s saying just by the little subtle changes in her expression. I can only imagine the many complicated feelings she must be experiencing.

On the one hand, he’s the worst part of her past life and surely deserved to die. But on the other hand, unintentional or not, he died saving her. Geum Ja does not state this with any affection or sentimentality in her voice. It is merely something that happened. Thank goodness the writers did not try to redeem him in the last minute. One good deed does not make up for all the violence and abuse inflicted on her and her mother.

Anyway, all that muddled history and emotions would make anybody conflicted. They really handled it the best way they could - simply state what happened and move on. No hate, no praise, no sadness. He was a terrible man who paid the ultimate price and died. I like that Hee Jae understands not to push the matter any further and changes the subject.

Bro, you’re delusional if you think you still have a chance with her.

And then we get to the ubiquitous Big Shareholder Meeting that we see so often in dramas. I love how Geum Ja is so ballsy in everything she does and she does it all in her comfy tracksuits. Of course the Big Shareholder Meeting does not go as planned and Song Pil Jung gets arrested.

God I love the look on Geum Ja’s face. It screams “is this guy still talking to me?”

Can I just say, I love how utterly brutal Geum Ja is in her rejection of Kevin Jung. Woof, ouch. If I ever heard that from someone I liked, I would be so devastated and embarrassed, I’d find a dark hole to bury myself in and lick my wounds. But of course, Kevin, like all the other men who fall for Geum Ja, seems to be into it. It takes a certain type of man to go for Geum Ja and apparently that type is a total masochist who likes getting rejected and their heart ripped out. I mean, to each their own.

I like whenever they do their power couple strut.

A bro fist bump? Really? Hm, I never really fist bumped the guys I dated but that’s cool I guess. They’re going in to destroy Song Pil Jung so I guess a fist bump is appropriate.

Hm, I don’t know. It seems like you’re the one who got arrested.

Bro. Mister. Are you for real? Did you forget all the shitty things you did to her?

Yeah, that’s kind of a big deal I think.

SO. SATISFYING. Whew honey, this exchange gave me life. My skin has cleared, my bank account is full, and I’ve lost 5 pounds.

Yessss I am all for this nerdy JJH in glasses and turtleneck sipping on expensive instant coffee aesthetic.

The couple that taunts together, stays together?

Hahahahaha, Hee Jae talking about being professional at work? Hahahahha.

I live for jealous Hee Jae because he’s extra ridiculous whenever he’s jealous. In this scene he’s getting jealous over Ju-Ho calling Geuma Ja “noona” and it’s like come on, they’re foster siblings. Let him call her noona. Side note, Netflix translates “noona” into Eun-Young, Geum Ja’s real name, and it irks me. Couldn’t they have just translated it into “sis” instead?

Now we’re around the 55 minute mark and I’m thinking, okay this is probably where it’s going to end. This is when it’s going to happen. They don’t have that much time left in the episode. All right, give me us all that we’ve been waiting for.

(Good looking main stays looking good.)

You can’t ever accuse Hee Jae of not being committed to Geum Ja.

We finally get an explanation for why Geum Ja always stared at that huge building

Haha, can you expect anything less from her character? At this point, I’m looking at the remaining time and thinking, ok then, when’s that kiss gonna happen?

SHRIEKS WHAT ARE THOSE HIDEOUS THINGS ON HIS FEET?! On another note, I’m sure Kim Hye Soo must be so glad she doesn’t have to wear those gigantic heels anymore.

Omg, ok, this is it. We’re getting shots of beautiful sexy people strutting and being playful with each other. They’re setting up for a romantic ending kiss. Ok, time to prepare myself.

Yes, put your arms around each other. We’re getting closer now.

Oh, ok. I guess this will be a far away in the distance kind of kiss. That’s ok, too I guess.

Oh, wait. Never mind. Looks like we’re going to get a frontal view of the ending kiss after all. Even better!

What? That’s it? What? Did I miss something? This can’t be.

Oh whew. An epilogue. Ok, this is when it’s going to happen.

Hahaha, they’re totally using the vloggers to advertise for their law firm. I love how Hee Jae has loosened up on what he thinks a proper lawyer should act like and it’s reflected in his more flamboyant wardrobe choices.

These damn fist bumps again. All the time spent fist bumping could have been spent hugging and kissing. Priorities, people!

Hah, like hell Hee Jae would ever leave Geum Ja.

Haha knew it. Boy is more whipped than whipped cream.

This pretty much sums up their dynamic. SIGH I’m not going to get my kiss am I.

Oh no. That caption can only mean one thing.

Yeeep. That’s it. This is the end. Finito.

Well. All right then. You know, the first time I watched this episode, I felt very disappointed that there was no final kiss. I mean the last time we saw them kissing was in episode 8 at the midpoint of the drama. This drama was clearly a rom com/screwball comedy so it only seemed fitting that there would be one last kiss scene. That’s how you end a romantic drama! But alas.

Actually, upon re-watching and re-capping this episode, I realized that even though we did not get any kiss scene, the writers still gave us plenty of sweet moments between Hee Jae and Geum Ja. We got to see their lovely progression into becoming partners who supported and trusted each other so that was nice. Even though they’re clearly together now, it’s nice to see that they still have their playful bickering dynamic. So objectively, it was a nice ending. I just personally wanted more smooches.

If you made it through this entire post, thank you for expending so much time reading my ramblings and congratultaions on having so much patience!

#sbs hyena #hyena #ju ji hoon #kim hye soo #joo ji hoon #kdrama

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lost-n-stereo · 4 years

Text

A/N: For anon who prompted me “Hallie+Sunshine”. Have a little 4th of July summer fic :)

and the sparks start flying (like the fourth of july)

She gets invited on a camping trip the first week of June, and when she says an invite she means that she quite literally received an e-vite from Helena through Facebook. There’s a group page and everything, with people RSVP’ing and talking about what alcohol they are going to bring and which campsites around the state are the best.

It’s not surprising to see the usual suspects on the list of people going. If Helena is setting it up that means that Luke is definitely going, since they are engaged and it’s just sort of a given. If Luke’s going then Clark and Jason will tag along with their girlfriends, and if the girls go then all of their friends will too. It’s a bit of a surprise to Allie though when she sees Harry RSVP and she kind of wants to comment on his post about how boat shoes aren’t generally camping attire but it feels shitty and she doesn’t want to be a dick for no reason.

The trip is planned for Fourth of July weekend, which is a little cliché but she doesn’t mind all that much. She orders a new tent off Amazon and an expensive pair of hiking boots because she’s not sure where exactly they are going yet but she feels like she should be prepared for anything. Becca calls her and asks if they should do some bathing suit shopping before the trip and they spend the day trying on different suits and drinking their daily calories in the form of food court smoothies.

It’s one of those rare times that the fourth falls on a weekend, so she takes the Friday before and the Monday after off from work and thanks the gods above that she works with a majority of older people that don’t care about the holiday weekend. They decided on a state park that has campgrounds that will fit all of them, she thinks it’s nearing twenty plus people going at last count, and a giant lake with tons of water sports and activities to do. She heard a rumor that someone rented out the entire stretch of sites on one side of the lake so they wouldn’t be bothered. No one said it was Harry but she can make an educated guess that was his doing.

There’s an honest to god party bus taking a large group of people to the lake but she decides to hitch a ride with Elle instead. The girl has a kick ass Jeep with no doors and it feels good flying down the highway with their camping gear piled high in the back and old school hip hop blaring out of the radio. Elle takes a sharp turn into the campground’s parking lot and Allie laughs as her body jerks out of the open door and her hair flies into her face as they jerk to a stop.

“You’re an absolute maniac,” Allie says on a laugh as they unbuckle their seat belts. “I fucking love it.”

Elle just flashes a grin and gets to work on unloading her tent from the back of the Jeep.

“Need some help?”

Allie rolls her eyes at the sound of Harry’s voice behind her and he’s grinning and eating an apple with a pocket knife when she turns around.

“I think we got it, thanks.”

He just shrugs, throws her a wink before heading over to where a group of people are unloading cases of beer out of the back of someone’s pickup. The parking lot is a madhouse. People are everywhere and Allie wonders in amusement if Helena is currently freaking out because there definitely were not this many RSVP’s in her Facebook group.

As if she conjured up the woman herself, Helena rushes up to Allie with a panicked look on her face. There are people Allie’s never seen falling out of backseats in fits of giggles, girls running around in barely there bikinis and dude-bros in board shorts lining up shots on the tailgate of a truck. It’s like a very cliché music video set to the sound of Post Malone pumping from someone’s car speakers.

“Are you seeing this shit?”

Allie laughs and reaches behind the seat for her backpack. “Yeah, it’s nuts. Who even are all these people?”

“Friends of friends,” Helena says, rolling her eyes as she takes a headcount. “There has to be over fifty people here already. It’s a good thing Harry rented so many campsites otherwise we’d be totally fucked.”

It’s the first confirmation she’s heard of Harry being the party benefactor but it doesn’t surprise her at all. He was always the one throwing giant parties in high school. His parents even rented an entire hotel for their senior prom, not just a banquet hall but the entire fucking thing.

“Let’s just be thankful no families with children will have to be in a tent next to that.” Allie points with her chin to where Lexie is currently pushed up against the side of a Suburban with a guy kissing down the column of her throat. “So much for a low key camping trip, ‘Lena.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Harry says, coming up to them with a Stella bottle hanging between his fingers. She wonders why he’s just randomly popping up when she knows his friends are here somewhere. Allie notices for the first time that he’s wearing flip flops, briefly stunned by the sight of his sort of bare feet. She’s not sure if she’s ever seen this man’s toes in the entire time they’ve known each other. The four years since high school have been good to him but that’s not a surprise. He has unimaginable wealth and a great job on top of that so she’s not shocked that he’s doing so well for himself so soon after graduating.

She went to school for accounting, ended up at a decent firm after graduating where the median age is mid forties, but she’s living in Brooklyn now which she loves and that’s what counts. Last she heard Harry was living in Manhattan but she doesn’t go that way often and someone like him probably wouldn’t be caught dead in her neighborhood.

Not that she cares or anything because what Harry Bingham does with his time has nothing to do with her.

“Better hope you get your deposit back,” Allie quips as she grabs a bottle of water out of her pack. Harry holds up his beer and asks if she wants one of her own. “No, Harry. It’s like nine-thirty in the morning. And don’t even say it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

Harry chuckles and takes a deep pull from the bottle. She shouldn’t think it’s sexy how he licks his lips after but well, it is. He smirks a little like he knows what she’s thinking and she rolls her eyes.

“I wasn’t going to,” he tells her. “I was just going to remind you that it’s Friday, you’re not at work at that stuffy job you go to every day, and it’s a fucking holiday. Enjoy yourself for once, Pressman.”

There’s not an ounce of heat in his words but it still cuts a little because she has fun, thank you very much. She might spend a lot of time in her studio apartment and she may only have a small group of good friends but she’s happy and that’s what matters. Helena just looks between them with her eyebrows raised, as if she’s waiting for world war three to start right there in the parking lot but Allie just shrugs, grabs the beer from his hand and chugs the rest of it before using her thumb to wipe foam from the side of her lip. Her heart pounds a little as Harry tracks the movement with laser focus and then she’s the one smirking, pushing the empty bottle into his chest.

“Looks like you need a refill.”

The absolute shock on his face makes her feel better than it probably should and Helena’s jaw is practically on the floor.

“Well played, Pressman.” Harry tilts his bottle towards her in what may be a show of respect and leaves again without a word.

“What the hell was that?” Helena presses when he’s out of earshot. Allie just shrugs, asks Helena if she’d mind helping her grab her tent out of the back of the Jeep so she can set up camp somewhere.

***

It’s dark when the real crazy stuff starts to happen.

There’s a group of people running around naked because someone thought it would be a good idea to go skinny dipping in a national park. Allie is pretty sure there are supposed to be park rangers patrolling but she supposes it wouldn’t be hard for a certain someone to grease a few palms to keep them away for the night.

Speak of the devil…

“You look like you could use a drink.”

An ice cold White Claw drops into her lap and she gasps, her thighs bare since she’s just in a bikini top and denim cutoffs.

“What in the fuck, Harry!”

He just laughs, drops down beside her in a pair of bright orange board shorts and nothing else. “Just paying you back for that little stunt with my beer this morning.”

Allie rolls her eyes, pops the cap of the cocktail and drinks half of it in one go. “You deserved that. You’re always antagonizing me. Been that way since we were kids.”

“Bullshit,” he says but when she looks at him out of the corner of her eye he’s grinning a little, fingers playing with the string of his shorts. It’s fucking distracting. “Maybe I was flirting.”

Her cheeks heat a little but she knows Harry, has known him practically all her life. Maybe sometimes things he’s done could be considered flirting but that’s only because he flirts with everyone.

“I’m sure,” she says, finishing off the drink and tossing the can into a bin nearby designated for recycling. “Shouldn’t you be over there with your friends?”

“They aren’t as fun to fuck with as you are.”

Allie points at him. “Ah! So you admit you like fucking with me!”

There’s no denying his eyes go a little dark and then she’s wishing that she could take that back because now it just sounds dirty. She’s expecting a dirty comment in return but that’s not at all what she gets.

“Maybe I just like talking to you. Maybe…”

She tilts her head a little when he doesn’t continue. “Maybe what, Harry?”

His teeth scrape across his bottom lip a little as he thinks but then he shakes his head like he’s literally trying to erase a thought from his mind. He stands up abruptly, brushes a little dirt and sand off his board shorts and throws her a casual wink.

“It’s nothing. Have a good night, Al.”

***

She wakes up with the hangover from hell and finds herself cuddled in between Sam and Grizz.

“What the shit?”

Grizz mumbles a little, presses his nose into the back of her neck and she giggles. “Shhh, you’re so comfortable and my brain is heavy.”

It makes no sense at all but she also completely gets it because her brain feels heavy too. It’s hot as fuck in this tent, which she realizes now is not her own. She tries to piece together what happened after Harry left her the night before. Not that she got blackout drunk or anything but she did let Becca and Grizz talk her into Jägerbombs which are never a good idea.

Sam’s eyes blink open and then he smiles and it reminds her of the sleepovers they used to have as kids. She signs, asks him if he wants some coffee and he nods, so she gets up to go find the little brew pot that Helena said she was bringing.

She can see the row of little camp areas stretching all the way down to the end of the lake, each with its own barbecue and campfire area. Every site can fit three or four tents and the one she set her tent up in is shared with Grizz and Sam, Helena and Luke, and Becca. Grizz’s tent is huge with multi rooms and she knows it’s probably because he’s really into spending time outdoors, fishing and camping all over the state. What they are all doing this week borders somewhere on glamping, because she’s almost positive she saw someone set up portable solar panels to run some gaming station and a small television.

There’s a pack of water bottles next to their makeshift “kitchen” by the campfire so she grabs one, empties it into the brew pot and waits for it to get hot so she can make coffee for her and her friends. Most of the campsites are quiet, which makes sense because it’s eight in the morning and the party raged until at least six this morning. When the coffee is ready she brings a cup to Sam, who puts a finger to his lips and nods to Grizz, who’s already passed out again. Allie grins, hands him the cup and signs have a good morning to him before quietly leaving the tent.

“Top of the morning to you, Pressman.”

Harry is helping himself to a cup of coffee from the pot and Allie rolls her eyes. “Don’t you have someone else to bug this morning, Bingham?”

“I like bugging you more,” he says with a smirk and she doesn’t miss the way he doesn’t say maybe like he did the night before. It’s like he’s finally acknowledging the fact that he’s always trying to get under her skin. She used to think it was because he was annoyed by her but after last night she wonders if maybe she was wrong about that. “Cup of coffee?”

Allie huffs and takes it from him. “I made that for me and my friends, if you couldn’t tell.”

Harry puts on a fake pout, which makes his lips look really fucking good and she tries to ignore the little flutter in her stomach when she notices it. “I’m hurt, Al. I thought we were friends?”

“Why are you even up this early?” She asks, ignoring the question of their friendship. It’s not that they aren’t friendly but they aren’t exactly hanging out on weekends either. Which...okay so she knows they are quite literally hanging out on a weekend right now but that doesn’t count. They have just always known each other, from him being in the same class all through school as Cassandra. She remembers one year when they were science partners and he was at their house once a week during the second semester to complete a project. Cassandra had complained about him being lazy and incompetent but Allie knows he put effort into it because she’d sometimes hang out in the kitchen while they worked and he was always putting in his own ideas just to have her sister throw them out. Which, if you know her sister, is par for the course on pretty much everything.

“Work hours,” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “No matter what I do or how late I stay up the night before I’m always up at sunrise. What about you?”

“Same,” she admits. “I feel like a total bum if I sleep past ten.”

They both laugh and she realizes they are actually having a conversation, even if it’s stupid and doesn’t really mean anything. But he’s not picking on her and she’s not throwing attitude back at his snark and it’s actually sort of nice.

“So I hear we have a busy day this morning,” he says as he lowers himself into a folding chair that’s set up near the unlit campfire. “Helena has planned our day down to the minute, it seems.”

Allie chuckles, pulls up a chair and sets it near him but where she can still see his face. “Sounds like my girl.”

“Actually it’s my girl,” Luke says from behind her and they all laugh. “You made coffee? Allie, you’re a lifesaver.”

When she looks at Harry she sees a little flash of disappointment in his eyes and she can’t help but wonder if it’s because it’s not just the two of them anymore.

She also wonders if the same look of disappointment flashes in her own eyes when Harry gets up, tells them he’s off to get ready for the day, and leaves her and Luke to wake up the rest of their friends.

***

Her feet hurt.

It was Helena’s idea to take a drive up the road to a hiking trail less than ten minutes away from the lake. And while Allie might have remembered to purchase new hiking boots what she forgot to do was break them in before wearing them.

“You look miserable,” Harry comments as they move up the trail, which just seems to go up and up and up. He’s not even breaking a sweat and she sees well worn boots on his feet which surprises her. “When was the last time you went hiking?”

“Um...never?”

Harry chuckles and pulls her to the side, his hand on her arm as he guides her to a large rock just off the path. “Let me help,” he says, kneeling down in front of her and unlacing her boot. Helena passes by, eyebrows high, but Harry just waves her off, tells the group they will catch up.

“What are you doing?” Her voice is far more breathless than she wants it to be but holy shit, Harry Bingham is crouched in front of her, picking up her sore foot delicately and placing it on his knee.

“Helping,” he says simply as he unlaces her boot and works it off her right foot, followed by her sock. After repeating the same steps with her other foot, he places them gently on the ground before standing in front of her. “Lift your legs.”

“Excuse me?” Her face flushes but he just smirks, grabs each foot and places them on his thighs with her knees together.

“You need to elevate your feet,” he explains as he positions her just so. “It’ll work, trust me.”

They probably look ridiculous, him standing in front of her with a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes and his hair a ruffled mess and her perched on a rock with her feet on his legs. But he wasn’t wrong and after a few minutes she can feel the pain lessening by the second.

“How long do I have to do this?”

Harry looks down at his watch. “About fifteen minutes and we’ve been here for eight so get comfortable.”

Allie laughs and tilts her head back. “You’re not sitting on the hardest rock known to man. My bony ass can’t handle this.”

“Your ass isn’t that bony,” he says but it’s not an insult, she can tell. It’s definitely a compliment, and a heated one at that.

“Spend a lot of time checking out my ass, Bingham?”

Harry just shrugs, a little grin playing on his lips as he looks down at her. Her cheeks heat again and she rolls her eyes for something to do because she’s not exactly sure what to say back. The last thing she expected this morning was to be hiking with Harry, who’s apparently some sort of expert, and then have him basically admit to checking her out before.

“We should catch up with everyone,” she says a few minutes later and he checks his watch again, nods and moves her legs carefully so she can put her shoes and socks back on. “Thanks,” she says quietly as she flexes her toes. “That really did help.”

“You should trust me more often.” He puts a hand out for her to grab and she accepts, ignores the little electricity she feels when her skin touches his. It’s hard not to be attracted to someone like Harry, who exudes confidence in everything that he does. And he’s obviously not bad to look at even though he dresses like a future senator eighty percent of the time and wears his cockiness like a badge. He just keeps showing her these little sides of personality that she’s never seen before and frankly, it’s hard to ignore.

They make up time quickly, thanks to Harry’s hiking skills and her mostly refreshed feet. When they reach the others everyone is standing at the top of the little mountain they just climbed, eyes focused on something in the distance.

“What is everyone looking at?” Allie asks no one in particular but stops short with a little gasp when she takes in the view they are all gaping at. The entire lake is visible from their viewpoint, the crystal blue water shimmering in the mid afternoon sun. She can see their side of the lake, with people milling around the sites like little ants. There are boats pulling people on water skis and tons of water crafts making waves for people in floating inner tubes. The lake is surrounded by trees on three sides and Allie thinks it might be one of the most beautiful views she’s ever seen in real life.

“This is breathtaking,” she says, mostly to herself, but then she feels a hand bump hers as Harry steps up next to her.

“It sure is,” he says quietly, his eyes sliding from the view before them to her face and then back again. His pinkie touches the side of her hand just barely and the idea to reach over to hold his hand is sudden and unexpected. She doesn’t do it but she finds that she wants to and that confuses her even more.

***

“Fifty bucks says I can chug this entire bottle of Jack in under a minute!”

Allie rolls her eyes as she passes by a group of guys that she went to high school with, all of them former jocks and not so bright.

“Pretty sure fifty bucks isn’t going to be enough to get your stomach pumped,” she tosses back in their direction before heading towards the campfire that’s currently warming the majority of her friend group.

After the hike they spent the day in the water, swimming and riding around on the Jet Skis that Helena had brought for the weekend. Harry offered to rent a boat to take them out but the boats were all rented out by the time they made it back to the lake.

“Tomorrow then,” he had said, dropping his credit card on the counter and winking at the girl making the reservations. Allie’d rolled her eyes and Harry had just laughed and winked at her too.

It’s hard not to notice that he looks really good right now, sitting by the fire with a bottle of beer hanging from his fingertips, his skin perfectly tanned from being in the sun all day. He’s wearing board shorts again but he finally put a shirt on, a white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It annoys her that he can make anything look good.

The little smile he gives her when she walks up to the fire pit is almost too much to handle.

“Need a drink?” Becca asks, pushing a wine cooler into her hand before she can even answer. Allie laughs, thanks her and lowers herself into a chair that just happens to be next to Harry. He smirks a little around the mouth of his beer but doesn’t comment on where she chose to sit down.

“When do the fireworks start?” She asks Helena, who checks her watch before pointing towards the west of the lake, where there’s no trees and wide open skies.

“They will be over there in about an hour,” she says. “They won’t be super close because they are technically lit in town but we’ll see the show pretty clearly.”

They sit around for the next forty minutes drinking and laughing around the fire. Luke and Clark decide to have a rock skipping competition and Allie laughs as everyone scurries around to find the perfect flat rock to enter. Right before the fireworks are about to start Harry nudges her, leans over so he’s almost whispering in her ear.

“Want to find somewhere quiet to watch the show?”

Everyone around them is either drunk, searching for rocks or both, and no one is paying attention when she nods, stands up and tells him to lead the way.

They walk side by side next to the lake heading away from the party that’s already raging despite the fact that it’s barely ten at night. Allie practically chokes when they pass a couple full on having sex against a tree and Harry laughs, steers them away from the obnoxious moaning and towards an empty spot on the beach.

“I should have bought a blanket,” he complains as he settles in the sand and Allie smiles as she drops down next to him.

“A little sand never hurt anyone. Don’t be a baby.” He quirks an eyebrow at her and she giggles, which she only does when she’s this side of perfectly drunk.

Harry is quiet as he pulls his knees up and sits with his arms dangling in between them. “You’ve been different today,” he says so softly she can barely hear him. “More like you used to be.”

“What does that mean?” She’s sitting cross legged and stays that way as she turns so she’s facing him. He just shrugs which makes her roll her eyes. “You’ve been different too.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks with a raised eyebrow and she nods. “How so?”

She snorts, leans back on her hands which makes her knees touch the side of his leg. “If you’re not going to tell me, why should I tell you?”

“What are we, twelve?” He says on a laugh and she shrugs, giving him a dose of his own medicine. He sighs, like it’s a total inconvenience to explain something that he started anyways. “You were fun. Carefree.”

“It was a good day,” she says and he nods. “And you were flirting with me, which is new.” It’s a bold statement because maybe he wasn’t, maybe it was just like all the other times when he was flirty because he’s Harry Bingham and that’s just how he is. He charms, it’s in his DNA.

Harry scoffs a little and shakes his head like she’s missing something. “Me flirting with you is not new, Allie.”

The way he says her name does something to her, the way she can see his tongue when his mouth forms the word. They aren’t saying anything, just staring at each other when the first boom of fireworks sounds off overhead. Neither of them startle or even really acknowledge the show going off above them. She likes the way the colors flash across his face, bright blue and neon pink, and before she realizes what’s happening he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against hers quickly in a surprisingly gentle and innocent kiss.

He pulls away first, rests his forehead on hers with a little smile playing on his face.

“What was that?” The words are practically whispered, breath feather light over almost touching lips.

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t go to kiss her again, just smiles softly before pulling away.

Allie smiles too and pulls away, rests her hands behind her in the sand and settles in to watch the show.

***

“Where did you run off to last night?”

The campsites are stirring the next morning with activity as everyone wakes up after the sun is high and the weather is warm. Helena is sitting by the campfire, a cup of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.

“I went for a walk,” Allie says carefully, not sure if she should say anything about what happened with Harry or not. They only shared one little kiss, and while it was wildly romantic with the fireworks sounding off above them, she’s not quite sure where they go from here. “What are you up to?”

Helena holds up her phone. “Trying to secure our boat for the day online. Harry already gave his credit card information to the rental place, I’m on hold.”

It’s then that Allie can hear the hold music playing quietly from Helena’s phone which is on speaker mode. Allie snorts when she recognizes the song, some piano version of a top 40 hit, and pours herself a cup of coffee.

A few minutes later a woman’s voice comes over the line, letting Helena know that she’s secured a boat for them that they can pick up in an hour. Helena thanks the woman and ends the call, stands up and wipes sand from the back of her shorts.

“This place is too fucking sandy,” she says and Allie laughs into her coffee mug. “I’m going to start rounding up the usual suspects. You’re in, right?”

Allie nods. “Definitely. I’ll get ready and meet you back here at ten.”

She finishes up her drink and heads to her tent to get ready for the day. There are two options for swimming suits, the one she wore yesterday which was bright blue and white, perfect for the fourth. But she decides on the flashier suit she’d purchased just because it was beautiful in the store and she couldn’t help herself. She slides on a pair of denim shorts and throws a sun hat on for good measure. She’s just finished applying sunscreen when a throat clearing at the tent’s entrance makes her jump.

“Jesus, Allie.”

Harry is standing there, one fist up to his mouth as he takes her in from head to toe. And now she knows this bathing suit was worth the price tag because he’s looking at her like he never has before.

“That suit..”

Allie laughs quietly and looks down at the top, a white ruffled halter top embellished with gold jewels that sit right under her breasts. There’s an additional piece connected to the bottoms that wraps around her middle that is purely for show, the gold jewels trailing down her stomach to meet the top of her shorts. With her recently tanned skin the stark white of the suit pops, making her look even more sunkissed.

“You like?” She asks with a cocked eyebrow and Harry nods slowly as he takes her in.

He looks around outside quickly before stepping into her tent. “That is by far the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says when he’s right in front of her. She inhales sharply when he gently touches the jeweled piece on her tummy. He’s making her feel all kinds of things and he’s not even touching her skin.

“I’m glad you like it,” she says breathlessly and it makes him smile. Feeling a little bold she pushes up closer to him, leans up so she can whisper in his ear. “Wait until you see the rest of it.”

Harry lets out a little groan that makes her giggle as she pushes past him. She’s not exactly sure why she’s being so bold, or flirty at all for that matter, but it’s like their kiss from the night before has unlocked something she didn’t really know how to admit before.

She sort of likes him.

Half an hour later she’s got a beer in her hand as the boat floats lazily along the lake. It was big enough for a fairly large group of people and they are everywhere, laughing and drinking like it’s not before noon on a Sunday. Helena and Luke are talking quietly and kissing in a corner and Allie finds herself wishing for the first time in a long time that she had someone in her life to giggle and kiss whenever she wanted.

“They are disgustingly in love, don’t you think?”

Harry chooses that moment to drop down beside her, his chin nodding towards the engaged couple.

“I think it’s sweet,” Allie says, her eyes taking in Harry’s board shorts and bare chest. A pair of Ray Bans cover his eyes as he lays down in the lounge chair next to hers and gets comfortable. He rests his phone face down on his stomach and Allie snorts. “You’re going to get a weird tan if you leave that there.”

Harry just smirks and glances at her suit. “You’re one to talk, Pressman”

Allie just shakes her head with a laugh. “I lathered myself up in sunscreen before we left. I think I’ll be okay.”

Harry shifts in his chair and gives her a heated look. “I know, I saw.”

She remembers him coming in after she put on her sunscreen, wonders how long he was standing there before he cleared his throat.

“Perv,” she says with a smile to show him she’s not mad and he laughs, a bright and loud sound that makes a few people look their way.

They spend the day eating, drinking and playing in the lake. By the time they dock she’s perfectly buzzed, warmed by the setting sun and the margaritas Elle made for the girls on the boat.

“Let’s party!” Clark yells as he jumps into the sand and Allie rolls her eyes as everyone cheers as if that’s not what they’ve been doing all day. But it is their last night here so she follows her tipsy friends through the campsites until they arrive back at hers, which is apparently party central tonight.

Someone turns on music and Billie Eilish starts playing, a thumping bass beat that has everyone up and dancing around the now lit campfire. Elle stumbles up to her, a wide grin splitting her face, and Allie knows the girl is definitely tequila wasted right now which means she’s probably feeling on top of the world.

“Dance with me!”

Allie laughs and lets Elle pull her into the crowd of people dancing to “Bad Guy” like it hasn’t been on the radio for the past two summers. She turns when she feels eyes on her, sees Harry sitting on the tailgate of Luke’s truck. His eyes are following her every move, and he doesn’t look away as he takes a pull from the long neck bottle in his hands. Even from this far away she can feel her skin heat when he licks his lips, eyes fixed on her like he doesn’t see anyone else.

“Dude, I think Harry likes you!” Elle yells over the music and Allie stills, tears her eyes away from him to face her friend.

“What makes you say that?”

Elle shrugs, which looks ridiculous because she’s drunk dancing all over the place. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since we got here. Go talk to him.”

Allie pales, looks around to see if anyone is listening to this conversation. It’s not that she really cares what anyone thinks, and he has been flirting with her more than usual. But he’s a known womanizer and it honestly scares her a little to think that maybe this is just the norm for him. Flirting with a girl until he gets what he wants and where will she be then? In a surprisingly sober move Elle puts her hands on Allie’s shoulders and looks her in the eye.

“Stop being afraid, Al.”

Allie takes a deep breath and nods, stands up taller and squares her shoulders back as she heads to where Harry’s sitting.

His eyebrows go up a little in surprise when she stops right in front of him, practically standing in between where his legs are open and dangling off the tailgate.

“What are we doing, Harry? You kiss me last night and then never mention it, and now you’re watching me like…”

“Like what?” He asks when she doesn’t finish her sentence and she melts a little at the deep and husky tone of his voice. “Tell me, Allie.”

“Like you want to do it again and never stop.”

He lets out a little breath of surprise as she steps in between his legs and leans up to kiss him. When he doesn’t immediately return the kiss she sort of panics but then he’s sliding down off the tailgate and pulling her into his arms to deepen the kiss. It’s not like the sweet kiss from the night before, it’s raw and full of emotion, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip until she’s weak in the knees.

There are hoots and hollers around them as he continues to kiss her but she doesn’t care. Maybe it’s the faint tequila buzz she’s still feeling or maybe it’s just how drunk she’s getting off this kiss, the taste of expensive beer on Harry’s lips as he sips at her lips her right there in front of their friends.

“Maybe we should rejoin the party,” he murmurs against her lips several minutes later and she smiles, reaches for his hand and pulls him in the direction of his tent one campsite over.

“Maybe we should have our own?”

He practically growls in agreement and follows behind her as she makes her way through the crowd. Elle winks her as they pass and Allie just grins, turns around to see Harry’s eyes lit up with alcohol and want, as they make their way over to his tent.

***

The lake is quiet when she steps down to the shore the next morning. It’s still early, everyone getting some much needed rest after the debauchery of the night before. Even from Harry’s tent, where they spent the night making out (plus a little more) and talking until neither could keep their eyes open, they could hear the party raging from the next campsite over.

“Morning, Pressman.”

Allie smiles when Harry comes up behind her, puts his arms around her waist and drops a kiss to her temple. “Good morning to you too.”

“I didn’t like waking up alone,” he admits quietly. “I fell asleep with you in my arms, kinda wanted to wake up like that too.”

The sentiment is sweet and it makes her heart beat furiously in her chest. “What happens next, Harry?”

He kisses her cheek. “What do you mean?”

Allie sighs, turns around in his arms so she can look up at him. “I mean, we’re on vacation. This weekend has been fun but what happens in two hours when it ends?”

“Then we don’t let it end,” he says simply. “You swear like Brooklyn and Manhattan are two separate planets. We can do this, Allie. I want to.”

She inhales sharply, surprised by how earnest his words are. “You do?”

Harry rolls his eyes a little and chuckles. “Allie, I’ve liked you since high school. This shouldn’t be such a shock.”

“I didn’t know,” she says but maybe she just missed it. Maybe all the flirting, every time he randomly joined in a conversation, maybe it wasn’t him being a womanizer. Maybe he really did just like her. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Honestly?” He asks and she rolls her eyes as if to say duh. “It just never felt like the right time. You were younger, your sister hated me. One of us was always dating someone else. And then life, you know?”

She nods because she does know. “Well I’m glad you told me now. But I do have issue with one thing that you said.”

His eyebrows dip together. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Allie smiles as she leans up to kiss him. “Manhattan and Brooklyn are like two different planets.”

Harry laughs and wraps his arms around her, dropping kisses from her mouth to her shoulder and then back up again.

“Guess we’ll just have to compromise,” he says, turning her around so they can watch the sun shine on the still water of the lake. “Some nights at my place, some nights at yours.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She settles back into his arms, enjoying the way the sun warms her face as it rises high in the sky, welcoming the new day.

#hallie #hallie fanfiction #harry and allie #harry bingham #allie pressman #fanfic

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alextriestowritestuff · 4 years

Text

Blood Of Olympus Read W/ Me

This was the worst book of the series by far. I almost didn’t finish it. I think my thoughts are going to be rather short but they’ll still be below the cut for spoiler reasons. There will also be Trials of Apollo spoilers so I highly suggest not reading this if you haven’t caught up with those books! Let’s get into it.

I’d like the start by saying what I like: Nico/Reyna POV. I loved their relationship (which I didn’t see coming at all) it was very big sis-little bro vibes. I love that Nico finally found a place and his budding relationship with Will. What’s funny is though I knew Will would be his love interest (You can’t avoid them in fanfic at all) I thought he’d be more like super sunshine/super happy and that would contrast with Nico’s emo nature. But he was just chill and was like Nico, stop being a dumbass, we’re friends. I think fanfic gave me a different impression of what he’d be like (Granted I never read the fics, just summaries) and I was surprised that he was not like that. It’s not bad or good, just pointing it out.

Oh and Nico telling Percy he liked him and Percy just being like ‘say what?’ I didn’t expect Nico to actually fess up to that one but Percy’s reaction was gold.

The best moment in this book is Reyna taking down Orion by herself. She was that BITCH. Correct me if I’m wrong but the only other person who defeated a giant by themselves was Percy right? In the Battle of Labyrinth when he fights Antaeus? I think Antaeus was a half-giant though because Percy, a demigod, managed to kill him without the help of a god. Anyway, Reyna was everything in that scene. Oh I lied, he took down Polybotes too. They’d be unstoppable together (though I love Percabeth). She was about to sacrifice herself too!! What a queen. I respect the crap out of her. UM Jason you really picked the wrong girl lmao.

I appreciated the Thalia cameo (because again, I didn’t re-read the Lost Hero so I haven’t seen her since the last time I read the PJO series) and the mention of Zoe. I hope Kenzie didn’t really die though, I liked her.

And that’s all the good I have to say about it. Now for the bad...so much bad.

So after thinking about it, I realize that what makes HoO so different from its predecessor series is that there’s no consequences. The closest we got to consequences was Annabeth and Percy falling into Tartarus because they weren’t saved in time. No one important (protagonist/good guys side) died. Leo was resurrected (And I looked it up and found out that he came to Camp in the Trials of Apollo series so everyone knows he’s alive). Even for the Tartarus one, we didn’t even get a PTSD arc. It would’ve been helpful to have Percy or Annabeth’s POV in this book to wrap up that subplot. Instead we get two lines about their time in Tartarus and when Percy brings it up, Annabeth tells him not to mention it. So no PTSD arc. Got it. But we can just casually mention that Octavian committed suicide (which I don’t care for that ending at all). Right.

The HoO books are boring because there’s no consequences. I never felt true fear apart from Percy/Annabeth being in Tartarus. In the Last Olympian, mortals were put to sleep, Annabeth was gravely injured, Silena and Beckendorf died. Luke and Ethan died. There was no magical save for them. Blood of Olympus had NO stakes, coupled with a weak, slightly developed new characters made it a bad series imo. It also doesn’t deliver on the questions posed in the book.

Hazel’s curse is still active, no descendant of Neptune has taken it away. I read the wiki summary for every book of the Trials of Apollo (The last one isn’t out yet) and there’s no mention of her curse being lifted. I think Frank’s stick is resolved imo being that it’s safe in the fireproof pouch but for some readers, they don’t think that’s resolved. Kym told Percy he’d have to face his fatal flaw. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t feel as though he did. Percy also never helped Leo find Calypso but Ig that’s null because he never got the chance to. Also is Black Jack, Frank’s grandmother, Hylla okay? Orion said Hylla got away but I was hoping for another cameo.

Let’s talk about the villains/the entire quest of the Seven. The quest was boring, Nico/Reyna/Hedge’s quest was 100x more interesting and they were transporting a freaking statue. The quest of the Seven was fight this minor god/villain who is working for Gaea who promised them something (Even Jason has a line where he makes fun of this), outsmart/fight them, get to Athens where all the monsters are. Percy and Annabeth’s blood awakens Gaea. The gods come down which makes me angry because most of them weren’t helpful throughout the series. Poseidon wasn’t in this series at all. He didn’t even send a symbol or talk to his son who went missing. I’m pissed that the battle against Gaea wasn’t even in Athens! I’m pissed that they got slapped to New York, like what? The gods really couldn’t poof them back there, they gave some excuse but it was still bs. But I guess Rick needed Argo II to get back to NY so Leo can turn festus back into a dragon. But anyway, the gods come down, the demigods work with to defeat the giants in less than two pages. The giants that were poised as a massive threat for four books straight. Defeated in mere minutes. We don’t even get a cool battle description, they just hack and slash at them and they’re dead. Huh?

Percy, Annabeth, Hazel, and Frank were reduced to background characters and I understand they don’t have a POV but I never felt that characters who didn’t have a POV in a certain book were ever forgotten/not utilized. They didn’t really get to do anything.

We also don’t really see the Roman and Greek gods all that much. I know they’re the same people, different Greek and Roman personalities. But like I thought their Roman side could be seen a bit more but they were having difficulty maintain one persona throughout the whole series. I can tell you what the Greek gods are like and how they interact w/ each other based on the throne room scenes/anytime they help demigods in PJO/HoO. But Roman gods as whole? I can’t tell you how they even interact with each other.

But wait, it gets worse. There’s not even a formal recognition thing like there was at the end of the Last Olympian (where Percy is offered godhood and Annabeth is given position of architect) there’s a little meeting with the gods and the Seven in which Jason is like give minor gods shrine and the gods aren’t really all that interested in what he has to say. There’s no thank you demigods. No, thanks Annabeth and Percy for literally going through Tartarus and Hazel for sacrificing yourself at 13 back in the 1940s. And the rest of them sacrificed something too. Like damn, no wonder why Luke was always like the gods don’t care about their kids.

Gaea was built up to be a big bad (honestly not really, she talked trash the entire time/sent people to do her work) and the woman is easily overpowered by the three demigods. She’s not even awake for 20 minutes and she goes down. WHAT??

Overall, it was anti-climatic and totally did a 180 on everything else established in this series-the fact that Gaea was such a major foe and turned out not to be (that SEVEN demigods had to take her down, not just 1 like Percy’s prophecy) and the giants were to be feared too but they get taken down. At 200 pages in, I dead ass wanted to DNF, it was so boring. I gave it a one star because although the good I mentioned was really great, it doesn’t save the book. So for me, this series had every book be 3 stars or under except House of Hades. 5 books and I only really was able to like one and get through it easily and it still had issues. Like what?

Lastly, I want to touch on Jason. I still think he’s bland though I appreciated him giving Nico a hug at the end there. Again from ToA/being spoiled over the years, I learned that Jason died and I won’t be reading ToA but I read the summary of the book where he died and um, wow. I don’t feel anything for his death but the fact that he and Piper broke up sent me into a laughing/anger rage. Laughing because they really said ‘I love you’ at the end of BoO and they didn’t even make it a year lmao. And the fact that PIPER, miss always insecure in her relationship with him, McLean broke up with HIM. WOOOOOW. But it made mad because I listened to her complain/fawn over Jason for 4 freaking books (not counting tSoN) for NO REASON cuz they ended up breaking up. Overall, I appreciated what Jason, Hazel, Frank, and Piper did in the HoO series because they were helpful but I couldn’t connect with their characters. I’ll admit that in BoO we got a little bit more bonding between characters which is what I asked for in my last read with me and I like the Percy/Jason scene underwater and Piper/Annabeth scene from the beginning. I do think some relationships were summarized when they could’ve been shown--i.e. Annabeth/Reyna/Piper friendship but they have potential.

The bonding was good, it was just too late. It should’ve happened in MoA/HoH as well. Random but I also hate how Leo was treated (esp. by Jason and Piper) throughout the series and I’m glad he got out of that mess. He was reduced to a deus ex mechanic and that wasn’t cool. The Seven wouldn’t have been able to do this quest without him.

Sooo I guess this is it. I don’t think I’m going to read another Rick Riordan book again unless I hear something drastic happens to Percy or Annabeth/Any of the PJO characters and Reyna. I’m strongly reconsidering removing him as my fav author. I still love the PJO series but this one was not it. I don’t know if Rick was on a tight deadline for these HoO books but it was just poorly executed. I don’t regret reading the series, I think reading HoH was worth all the time I spent reading this series. I wish I had just read a summary of tSoN and MoA, especially because I already read them years ago and knew I wasn’t into them from my first read. I wasted my own time by doing that. So if I had done that I would’ve gotten to just read HoH and then only be disappointed by BoO as opposed to three books. It is what it is. It’s nice to be in the loop because I always see these things about HoO characters and spoilers so now I know how it went down.

But that’s it guys, thank you for reading this entire thread and the ones before it. I have a lot of opinions and I don’t think I’m in the minority by saying I didn’t like this series overall. I will get back to my writeblr content and I will leave you guys with my final ratings for the series (My rating system may seem generous compared to my read with me thoughts but I personally don’t give less than 3 stars to books that plot wise made sense. It may not be the most compelling plot or have the best characters but if it made coherent sense, I have to give it at least a 3.) :

The Lost Hero: This score is based off of my original reading in 2012/2013 and my thoughts on the main characters in that book, I give this a 3/5 stars

The Son of Neptune: 3/5

The Mark of Athena: 2/5

The House of Hades: 4.5/5

The Blood of Olympus: 2/5

Worst book of the series: Mark of Athena (Blood Olympus is a close tie but the Nico/Reyna really saves it from this spot) and best book- House of Hades.

#blood of olympus #rick riordan #Percy Jackson #Jason Grace #HoO #Percabeth #read with me #writeblr #alextriestowritestuff #not writing

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davidmann95 · 4 years

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How did you end up feeling about Batman: Last Knight on Earth when all was said and done? What does it imply as the culmination of Snyder and Capullo's solo Batman megastory?

Batman: Last Knight on Earth is weird as hell, and not just in the way a lot of Snyder/Capullo gigs are weird as hell. It’s out of left field on several different levels, and crucial aspects feel frustratingly undercooked, yet on a pure conceptual level it’s hard not to argue it isn’t a perfect conclusion to their vision of Batman and his world. Complaints upfront:

* The cover for #1 is so atmospheric and perfect, and #2 and #3 don’t even try to live up to it.

* Joker’s face turn is absurd even in this heightened context.

* Scarecrow and Bane are a fascinating pair - the ultimate counterparts to Batman in terms of the image he seeks to evoke and him as a man, respectively, and Snyder did no work with either of them in his main run - and this story uses them purely as muscle, when Bane was just the co-lead villain of the entire Tom King Batman epic, and he just made clear on Twitter he’s got a perfect angle on Scarecrow. What a waste.

* Half the finale and its buildup with the Batfamily, Wonder Woman, and a final obstacle of Martian Manhunter of all people feels entirely perfunctory. And then Batman kills the villain without comment? I guess a unique circumstance of sorts with said villain, but still.

* I cannot figure out for the life of me how to read the last few pages as not being about Snyder moving on from Batman to Superman as his new principal character, when he’s made very clear Wonder Woman/JSA are his next big project.

* I suspect part of the reason Morrison and Burnham’s Arkham Asylum 2 didn’t happen was because Snyder and Morrison apparently frequently chat (note: this returns to Snyder/Capullo joints being Morrison covers, as this mixes Final Crisis and a sort of inversion of Return of Bruce Wayne with a couple R.I.P. touches, and as an aside the Speed Force Storm is basically the Chronovore), and maybe Morrison didn’t want to crowd the market on dystopian future Batman stories. Which would be a real friendly move on his part, but also the hell with that, I’d trade this for a years-after-the-fact true ultimate finale to the best longform superhero run of all time in a hummingbird’s heartbeat.

...okay, so how wild is it that Scott Snyder’s take on the final adventure of Batman is as a fanfic alternate take on his own Justice League run? And that his conclusion is that if it were to play out as a Batman story instead, Batman would fail? It exists at such an odd place relative to his other work too, since while it’s the ‘end’ to his take on Batman on the opposite pole from Zero Year that he came up with at the same time, he told an entire other ‘final’ Batman tale in Endgame that’s much closer to how you’d traditionally expect that sort of story to go,* leading to another resurrection in Superheavy. Then Metal with how it clashes his Batman mythology against the DCU in a far different manner than here, and The Batman Who Laughs presenting another take on an evil Dark Knight contemporaneously with this.

The most crucial comparison though is actually I think the first arc of All-Star Batman. I will never, ever forget the experience of reading issue four the literal day after the 2016 election, which ends with Batman expressing faith in the inherent decency of his fellow man, only to gaze at the horizon towards an armed band of frothing maniacs made up of ordinary people driven to murder by simple greed and fear and hate. It’s the same energy that goes into the pivotal scenes here explaining what became of this world, and it’s with this comic that I finally understood Scott Snyder, the friendliest bro in comics, constantly writing horror and tales of heroes truly afraid that they could give into their worst impulses: there is an anger in that guy at what human beings are capable of, and it’s what lends his work a conviction as expressed through his 80s action movie superhero punch-opera sensibilities that marks him as apart and above so many others in his field with similarly populist inclinations.** Matched, of course, by the vibe of Capullo and Glapion and Plascencia’s craggly, rock stadium, neon-splattered hellscapes for their already long-since classic Batman to wander, the Zero Year sensibility as applied to an entire biosphere and giving us an entire world as vicious and out of control as its populace.

Which is why Last Knight turning out to be a tale of the fall of the original Batman makes sense. Throughout Snyder’s work with the character the ultimate threat is always him being forced to admit that he’s wrong, that he’s always been wrong - that he can’t understand Gotham, that he can’t care for anything other than the mission, that he can’t live up to or survive his legend, that he isn’t strong enough to fight the part of himself that would rather give in - and it is always a legitimate one that he struggles with on a personal level. And so it makes sense Snyder finally theorizes a Batman that can give in is one that one day will in the face of the world as it is, just as it makes sense that even in the face of humanity utterly succumbing morally and the greatest of them going down with the ship, Snyder’s Batman persists past the person himself and his failings in the most literal possible sense. Mortality was the other big arc of the teams’ solo Batman work - Court of Owls his realization of his limits in the face of a greater power and history, Death of the Family questioning if he wishes he could turn back the clock, Zero Year showing him when he was young and thought he was invincible, Endgame and Superheavy giving him a mere brush with death and thereby having him reckon with the notions of immortality and a chance at a new life altogether - so of course the end is age and death and what endures beyond. In one final twist on a Morrison notion, Snyder and Capullo’s Batman will never die, and as with Morrison that’s both a tragedy and a triumph; no matter how twisted the world becomes, no matter that a given take on Bruce Wayne can be savaged beyond recognition and finally break, there will always be a new Batman for each new age, adapting as needed but still born of the same pain and carrying the same ideals anew, in his world as in ours, in the hopes that someday, finally, he and his friends might get through to us.

* Plus they open the book with a THIRD ending where Bruce has to live through the dumb meme ‘uuhhhh duhhhh but what if he’s CRAZY and he’s really a patient in ARKHAM, and all the villains are orderlies and Penguins’ just a guy he sees out the window with an umbrella WOAH’ idea of the end of Batman we’ve all seen, and then he DEFEATS it, which rules.

** Not to downplay the role of his abilities as a pure nuts-and-bolts enjoyable storyteller. I listed my complaints above but for as wild as its goes Last Knight feels like Snyder’s most disciplined, controlled work on a panel-by-panel basis in years, and there are moments of poetic narration in issue two especially that I would go so far as to call Moore-esque in the casual, haunting beauty at a shattered world of miracles it evokes.

#Batman #Batman: Last Knight on Earth #Scott Snyder #Greg Capullo #Jonathan Glapion #FCO Plascencia #Tom Napolitano #Opinion

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years

Text

Empty Space

Summary: The reader meets Jensen on the street after a near accident and the pair end up becoming best friends. After she goes through a bad breakup though, they start to find their own relationship might be on the rocks too...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 8,300ish

Warnings: language, cheating (not Jensen), angst, fluff

“Thank you so much!” you said, clutching your coffee to your chest.

“No problem, Y/N,” he said with a laugh. You didn’t care at all how hard you were blushing as you turned and walked away. You’d just gotten a picture with Ryan freaking Reynolds, in Starbucks, and apparently you wore the same coat as his wife and he’d thought you were her from behind which was amazing in itself for your confidence and-

“Hey!” was shouted directly in your right ear, a hand grabbing your arm so hard you swore it’d bruised instantly. You felt a surge of panic at someone grabbing you, even though it was only four in the afternoon, the sun still out, people around on the city streets. You stumbled as you were dragged back into a chest and then a few more feet, your boots catching on the sidewalk, your coffee all over the ground. You turned around with wide eyes, finding a slightly pissed but concerned man with green ones staring back. “Don’t be walking straight into traffic.”

“What…” you trailed off, eyes ahead, the crosswalk light red, traffic moving quickly through the city street. You’d been so wrapped up in your own head you hadn’t even looked, hadn’t even peeled your eyes up from the ground. You glanced back up at him, spotting he was the only one standing at that intersection, his eyes less angry now. “T-Thanks.”

“Be more careful,” he said. You nodded and ducked your head down, rubbing your arm as you waited at the crosswalk. “Sorry.”

“Hm?” you asked, the man staring ahead.

“Sorry. If I grabbed you too hard. You were just...you were making a beeline right into...cars move a little faster on this side of town,” he said. “I didn’t really want to have to see that today.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said. He nodded and you waited a few more seconds, the crosswalk giving you the go ahead. You took a deep breath before you went, the guy already taking off. You glanced right, immediately sprinting out into the crosswalk and grabbing his arm with both hands, yanking him backwards as fast as you could. He fell back on the pavement behind you, his coffee cup spilling all over next to yours. He glanced up as you saw a taxi blow through the red light. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, getting to his feet, brushing himself off, shaking his head. “I think the both of us should get the fuck away from this intersection.”

“No arguments from me,” you said, back on the sidewalk, the guy rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s scary. I get it.”

“I’m Jensen,” he said with a soft smile.

“Y/N,” you said back.

“Well, Y/N. If you’re not too busy, I say we both go grab another cup of coffee and calm down for a minute,” he said.

“Yeah. I could do with that.”

Six Months Later

“Hey,” said Jensen when he answered his front door. You were still scowling, ducking under his arm and into his apartment, going straight to his freezer and grabbing some vanilla ice cream, shoving it on the counter. You grabbed a spoon from the drawer as Jensen closed up after you, eyeing you as you went to the cabinet he kept the booze in and grabbed some whiskey. You undid the top and poured yourself a double, knocking it back before putting it away. You took the ice cream and spoon over to his couch, peeling a blanket off the back and throwing it over yourself, quickly stabbing into it.

He hummed as he walked over, taking a seat beside you, watching as you angrily ate. You gave him a quick glance, a worried smile on his face.

“I take it your date with Marcus didn’t go well,” said Jensen.

“Stupid guys. Stupid, stupid, assholes,” you muttered, sighing when you looked at him. “Not all guys, just-”

“Oh, guys are assholes, trust me,” said Jensen. You set down your ice cream on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch, your bottom lip starting to wobble. “Come here, kiddo.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his side. Your face was hot as you felt the tears start to form, Jensen not saying a word as he kicked up his feet and threw on the TV to something quiet, shushing you as he rubbed your back. You cried less than you thought you would, Jensen never once pushing you to talk.

“I’m really glad I met you, Jay,” you said quietly, voice hoarse about fifteen minutes later.

“Me too,” he said, brushing one last tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Marcus and I broke it off,” you sniffled. “He’s...he’s been seeing another girl for a while. A few months. He blamed the going long distance thing for work and it was nothing I really did but maybe if I’d-”

“He cheated on you. That was not your fault. You tried and talked everyday. He was the one always coming up with excuses,” said Jensen.

“I’m the one that moved up here for work though. It was only supposed to be for nine months. Nine here. Three there. I-”

“Not. Your. Fault,” said Jensen, a bit more sternly. You frowned but there was no way Jensen would ever for a second let you feel bad about this, even if you knew deep down Marcus had given up on the two of you months ago. You gave Jensen a quick smile and nod. He reached over and picked up the ice cream, holding out the spoon for you. “Does this mean I can be your wingman now? I’ve never gotten to see flirty, Y/N.”

“I don’t know how to flirt,” you said, taking a bite of ice cream, Jensen taking a scoop for himself before holding another out for you. “You do. Could...could you show me?”

“What? Y/N, let’s slow things down. You literally broke up with your boyfriend less than an hour ago. Let’s not go look for the rebound guy right now,” said Jensen.

“Yeah, I know. I’m hopeless,” you said. Jensen rolled his eyes, moving the ice cream back to the coffee table. “Hey. I wasn’t done.”

“You aren’t hopeless. I’m the one that’s hopeless,” he said with a laugh. “According to the internet I have a type. Look at my old girlfriends and I can’t even prove them wrong. I’m as stereotypical as the world thinks.”

“What the hell were you doing looking something like that up online? You had to have known it was only going to be mean comments,” you said.

“It was years ago. I don’t even look at comments on anything I post anymore,” he said. “Now I’m a professional third wheeler with Jared and Gen. Or worse. I go on ‘bro’ dates with my buddies who are all married or have kids or are at least in relationships,” he said, huffing as he slid back into his cushions. “Come here, we were making you feel better.”

Jensen pulled you into a big hug. You were a little surprised. He was open with you, more open than probably any other man you’d ever met but you were also his best friend. He talked about stuff with you, stuff that maybe he was a bit shy to share at first but he trusted you and you knew having Jensen’s trust was something special. He gave it out at a surface level to everyone. He expected to be shown that same general level of kindness and respect that everyone did. Jensen went a little above and beyond that at times when he gave it out but it was simply how he was raised and the good person he was. Most of the people he knew fell into this middle ground, they had trust but there was hesitancy, always a little on guard, not everything out in the open. Then there was the very small amount of people he actually let in all the way. It was almost exclusively his family apart from a few close friends, some he’d known since he was a kid.

The only reason you knew about this stuff was because he told you about it all once and how you didn’t fit in the neat little system. Somehow you got that trust immediately, almost like you snuck in or something without permission.

Still, there were things he didn’t talk about often like dating and the idea that Jensen ever had issue with his current love life or lack of one was something new to you.

“Good morning,” said Jensen. You sat up from the couch, a few blankets tossed over you, a pillow from his room where your head had been. You stretched and yawned, Jensen smirking as he worked in the kitchen. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah. Just sucks getting cheated on. Thanks for letting me crash here last night,” you said. You excused yourself to the bathroom, returning to find a plate of pancakes set at one of the places on the counter.

“You tired yourself out crying again. I wouldn’t want you to drive home like that,” he said. You nodded and glanced down, Jensen bumping your shoulder when he took a seat next to you with his own plate. “Don’t go and get embarrassed on me, Y/N. You know I don’t care about that shit.”

“I know. I was hoping I’d wake up and be over the whole thing but I still feel crappy,” you said.

“You dated Marcus a long time. It’s going to hurt,” he said. “Just don’t start thinking this was your fault on me.”

“I mean...she is a lot prettier than me,” you said, thinking of the picture Marcus had showed you the night before. “He even said so. I mean, she really was and…”

Jensen put his fork down, a strange little growl coming from behind his closed lips.

“These pancakes are really good,” you said. He sighed, going back to his food, shoulders tense as he ate. You helped him clean up the pan but wanted to get out of there. Jensen was agitated and not bothering to hide it. You knew Fridays were normally long filming days for him and you had dropped by out of the blue at midnight when he’d probably just gotten home and he had a con to head to that afternoon and you probably ruined his one full night of sleep he’d get all week.

“Hey,” said Jensen when you made for the door and your shoes. You finished slipping them on, Jensen coming to a stop in front of you. “Marcus is a pig you realize. If the long distance thing got to him, he should have manned up and said so and broke it off like an adult. He went behind your back and cheated on you which is royally douchey and then he said this other chick was prettier than you? How small a sack does he have to do that? He wasn’t a good guy, Y/N and you honestly shouldn’t give a shit about what he said. I’ve seen a lot of ‘pretty’ girls with my job and everything. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met and I know that’s all you. Don’t believe what he said.”

“I...thanks, that means a lot right now,” you said, giving him a small smile.

“Gonna come to the con this weekend? I know you thought you had other plans but...it’d mean a lot if you did. Seattle is right next door,” he said. “My treat.”

“You’re not going to let me sit home and mope, are you,” you said.

“Not unless you really want to,” he said.

“Alright. Text me the plan later and I’ll see you tonight,” you said.

“Awesome. I can’t wait.”

“Hey, Y/N,” you heard. You spun around in the lobby area, Cliff giving you a wave. “Drive down okay?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Jensen said I can crash in his room so I don’t have to drive back tonight.”

“I know,” he said with a smirk, handing over a key card.

“I sort of broke things off...well I guess my boyfriend broke up with me last night. Jensen’s just keeping an eye on me. You know how much he worries about stuff,” you said.

“Sorry to hear that kiddo. He mentioned you might be a little bummed out. Probably why he has a surprise for you,” said Cliff. You tilted your head but Cliff just smiled. “I’ll be down here when you’re ready to go see the guys.”

“Just give me two minutes to drop off my bag. I’ll be right back,” you said. You quickly went up the elevator, finding Jensen’s room at the end of the hall. You set your bag down on the empty queen bed, fixing your hair in the bathroom for a minute, forcing a smile on your face.

You were going to have some fun tonight, no matter what. You grabbed your purse and phone and headed back down to the lobby, Cliff showing you past the security and into the green room.

“Hey!” was greeted to you, a loud chorus coming from Jensen’s friends. You didn’t spot him in there but saw Jared, getting a quick hug from him.

“Hey, pipsqueak,” he said, rubbing your arm. “How you feeling?”

“Alright,” you said, Jared nodding. “You?”

“Pretty good,” he said, pulling you aside. “I got to find out second hand from Jensen? Really?”

“Jare,” you said quietly, glancing down.

“Marcus is an idiot,” said Jared softly, giving you a kind smile. “It’s probably for the best though.”

“I thought he loved me,” you mumbled.

“You don’t do that to people you love. You got people that actually do right here,” he said.

“You guys are my friends. It’s different and you know that,” you said.

“Alright, alright,” said Jared, sighing as he gave you a big squishing hug. “But we do love you.”

“Yeah,” you said, Jared releasing you when you saw Jensen walk in the room, your eyebrows raising. “What are you wearing, Ackles?”

“Clothes, dufus,” said Jensen, chuckling when he walked over to you. “Drive down okay?”

“Mhm,” you said, Jensen smirking when you cocked your head at him. “Leather jacket?”

“I wear a leather jacket sometimes,” he said, that smirk still plastered on his face.

“Jensen’s playing rockstar tonight,” said Jared. You raised an eyebrow and Jensen rolled his eyes. “Did he forget to mention that?”

“Yeah,” you said, cocking your head as Jared wandered off. “You’re like a triple threat, aren’t you, Jens?”

“Oh, my dancing is appalling and I can’t really sing,” said Jensen, rubbing the back of his neck. “Acting’s all I got at this point.”

“Oh, is that all?” you teased, looking him up and down. “You look different.”

“Bad different?” he said, a flicker of something crossing his face.

“No. Sorry. I guess I forget you’re like, a hot guy sometimes,” you said. You blinked a few times, Jensen doing the same. “I’m sorry. That came out horrible. I-”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I know I’m hot stuff,” said Jensen, Jared snorting from close by. “Just have a good time tonight, alright?”

“Hey,” said Jensen when you got back from the late dinner after the concert. You lifted your head up from the couch in the hotel room where you’d placed a pillow and some sheets, Jensen kneeling down in front of you in his pajamas. “You okay? You’ve been off all night.”

“I’m tired is all, Jens,” you said, closing your eyes with a smile, turning away from him. You heard him shuffle and the edge of the couch dipped, Jensen taking a seat on the small unused portion.

“If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to. I can ask Cliff to drive you and your car home. You don’t have to stay,” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you said quietly.

“Sorry about what?” he asked. You glanced over your shoulder, his face so genuinely innocent and curious you shook your head. “Come on. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Maybe that’s why Marcus broke up with me. I’m stupid and overreact to little shit I shouldn’t,” you said. You pulled your covers over your head and brushed off Jensen when he tried to touch you again. He sighed and you felt him move away.

A few moments later, you heard the room light switch on and your covers were yanked away. You spun around and looked up, Jensen scowling as he tossed the sheets over to his bed.

“Get up,” he said. You shook your head, never seeing him look at you like that before. He softened his face a hair and held out a hand. “Please get up.”

“Why?” you asked quietly.

“Because we have to go somewhere, that’s why,” he said, opening and closing his hand. “Please?”

After a second you stood up, Jensen taking hold of your hand gently, urging you to slip on your shoes. He grabbed his sweatshirt and your spare room key, tucking them both under his arm before shoving his own key card in his sweatpants. He didn’t bother with his shoes, simply left the room with you and started to walk down the hall. You rounded a corner and walked some more before Jensen lightly knocked on a door. You looked up at him, Jensen giving you a smile when the door opened.

“Hey,” mumbled Jared, mostly behind the door, probably in his underwear. You turned around, Jensen giving him a smile too.

“Put on some pants. Someone’s having her first sleepover,” said Jensen. You raised an eyebrow, Jared wearing a sad smile for a brief moment. He ducked inside and returned wearing some sweatpants, opening the door for the two of you to enter.

Jensen dropped your hand away and handed you the sweatshirt and card, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“What-”

“Jared’s going to talk to you for a little while and then we can talk after if you want, okay?” asked Jensen.

“I don’t really understand what’s going on,” you said.

“Jensen and I came to an arrangement after a few years back,” said Jared. “He ever gets scared, I ever get scared, we have a ‘sleepover’ or late night talk or whatever you want to call it and talk it out.”

“I’m still lost.”

“Get up on the bed, kiddo,” said Jared softly.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “What the hell is this? You two bringing me here in the middle of the night…”

“Y/N. You must have said something that scared Jensen. I don’t know what, but you did and it was obviously something that made him think I should get involved so take a second to relax and just sit down,” said Jared.

“Well what exactly did I say?” you said, crossing your arms at Jensen.

“You’ve been saying so many mean things about yourself since last night. You don’t talk like that and I know part of it’s the breakup but even before the concert you were weird around me and I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said.

“It’s called a bad breakup, Jensen,” you scowled. “For fuck’s sake, not everyone and everything is your responsibility.”

“I just-”

“You just overreacted to a few comments. You know what? I think I will take you up on your offer. I’m going home.”

Sunday Night

“Yeah?” you said, answering the intercom at your apartment.

“Jensen is here to see you,” said your doorman.

“Tell him to leave. I don’t want to speak to him in case he didn’t get the message. If he comes back, turn him away,” you said.

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Saturday Night

“Hey, Y/N,” said your boss, pulling you away from one conversation and to another. You hated these networking things but you also knew he was trying to help you find a job after your current show ended this season.

You sighed when he pulled you over to speak to a few producers on a different network. It was going well for a while until they mentioned the show they worked on and they pulled one of their lead actors over as he was walking by.

“Y/N, this is Jensen. He plays Dean on the show,” said one of the guys, Jensen giving you a nod.

“We’ve met,” he said cooly. You shouldn’t have been surprised by the reaction. Monday night you got in a big fight over text and basically told him to never speak to you again. You weren’t some thing for him to fix or feel sorry for. You didn’t need the “perfect boy” in your life anyways.

Not to mention telling him he was right that there was something wrong with him for still being single at his age probably ruined that friendship forever. It was a low move and not true but he hadn’t shut up about trying to figure out what happened between the two of you. He’d pushed too much and you'd still been upset over Marcus and if he wasn’t getting that, it was his fault.

He hadn’t spoken a word to you since.

“Y/N might be joining the team next year if we can convince her to stay up here for the winter again. She’s originally from Texas too in fact,” said the guy.

“Not sure we want someone with not a lot of experience in the production office. I mean, it’s a pretty important position for next year, last year and all,” said Jensen. You glared at him, ready to spit something out completely unprofessional when your night got even worse.

“Hey!” said Marcus, butting into the conversation with his new girlfriend on his arm. “Kevin, long time no see.”

“Yeah, haven’t been down in LA for awhile, didn’t know you were in town,” said Kevin, Marcus giving you a nod. “You two know each other?”

“Oh, yeah. Y/N and I used to date,” said Marcus, brushing you off. “This is Veronica. She’s a model.”

“Of course she is,” you mumbled to yourself. You tried to back out of the conversation but your boss kept reeling you back in.

“Y/N, I think maybe next week we could get together, have a more formal conversation about next season plans?” said one of the producers. Marcus chuckled, everyone’s heads turning to him.

“You want to hire her?” said Marcus. “You’d be better off with a trained monkey.”

“Excuse me?” you shot back, Jensen looking back and forth between you and Marcus.

“Let’s just say, she didn’t get her first job through talent,” said Marcus with another laugh. “Better off leaving this one alone unless you want to leave her around for her looks which...well let’s just say she was more put together in LA.”

You were pretty sure you’d never felt more humiliated and angry and your boss didn’t stop you when you tried to go. You only made it a few steps though when you heard Jensen’s voice.

“Well let’s just say, you’re a cheating piece of shit that’s going to apologize to Y/N and then never speak to her again, or else I’m going to have the satisfaction of beating your face in,” said Jensen.

“You’re the asshole that stole someone’s girlfriend, dude,” said Marcus. Jensen chuckled and got in Marcus’ face.

“I was her friend. I am her friend, her best friend and you ought to show her some respect,” said Jensen. “I don’t know what the fuck you drilled into her head but you never deserved her in the first place.”

You walked away after that, not wanting to see the rest. After a few minutes in the bathroom, you cleaned yourself up, your boss right outside when you finished, apologizing to you. You shook it off and made an excuse to leave early. You bumped into one of the producers on the way out and they made you promise to come have that conversation the next week and to ignore Marcus. They weren’t that kind of show that tolerated that sort of thing. You nodded and got out of there, nearly getting a cab when a text popped up.

You’re still my best friend.

You smiled and closed your eyes before you responded.

Mine too. You deserve a better one than me though. You never did anything wrong, I did.

“Y/N,” you heard after a minute. You turned around and saw Jensen walking over to you from the event, coming to a stop in front of you. “We got to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” you said, rubbing your hand against your eyes. “I was a bitch.”

“Well I was a dick,” said Jensen. “So we’re even.”

“No, we’re not,” you said.

“What happened?” he said. “At the concert.”

“I don’t know why you’re my friend,” you said.

“Y/N I want to know what happened when-”

“That’s what happened. I made that comment and I sort of realized how good looking you are, not that I’m blind, but I always just saw you as my best friend, Jensen, and it made me think. I didn’t understand why someone like you with your life and friends and everything would ever want to be my friend. I kept coming up with the same answer and it was because you felt sorry for me,” you said.

“I’ve never felt sorry for you, Y/N. I’m sorry you were cheated on and I’m sorry that just happened in there. I’m sorry I overreacted and brought Jared into it because I honestly wasn’t sure of the right thing to say at that moment and I was afraid saying the wrong thing would cause something bad to happen. I’m sorry you don’t see yourself the way I see you, the way other people do. But I’ve never felt sorry for you, Y/N,” he said.

“See? You’re perfect and I’m the bitch that-”

“Don’t call yourself a bitch,” said Jensen.

“I never meant what I said about there being something wrong with you, Jensen,” you said. He nodded and smiled.

“I know. I knew when you said it but I got pissed and stopped talking to you when I shouldn’t have. Let’s be friends again, alright?”

“Alright,” you said quietly.

“Now that we’re talking again, want to get out of here and away from the douchebag?” he asked.

“I uh, think I should go back in and try to salvage my career,” you said.

“Our producers know that Marcus was just saying that stuff to mess with you. I already talked to them about it,” he said.

“I’m just going to go home then,” you said. “I’ll uh, talk to you soon.”

You got a text that Jensen was in your lobby of your building the next day. You sighed and let him up, Jensen walking into your apartment a few minutes later.

“Hey,” he said, peeling off his backpack and taking off his sweatshirt. You glanced over at him for a moment before you went back to staring out the window on the couch. He was quiet as he came over and took a seat next to you, lifting up your head and letting it rest in his lap. “Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I was so mean to you,” you mumbled.

“Honey, we already talked about this last night,” he said, rubbing his hand over your head. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

You shrugged and buried your face in his leg, Jensen continuing to run his hand over your head gently.

“You must think I’m a joke,” you said.

“I think my best friend is hurting,” he said. “Rough week and all.”

“It’s not just a rough week,” you said, glancing up at him.

“I know,” he said.

“No. You really don’t. I get a certain way sometimes. It hasn’t happened in such a long time and now I feel like I’m slipping back into that place,” you said.

“I know,” he said.

“No. I’m saying-“

“I’m saying I get it, honey. I do. So I’m going to stay, alright?” he asked. You tilted your head up at him, ignoring how you must have appeared. Since when did he call you honey? And how could he possibly know? No one had ever noticed. Your whole life people thought you were happy and successful. They’d never realized part of it was a front.

But somehow this guy...he was looking down like you’d spilled every bad feeling, every bad thought, you’d had your entire life.

And he was going to stay.

“Okay,” you said quietly. Jensen hummed and moved his feet up onto the other end of the couch, sitting in silence with you.

You blinked open your eyes an hour later, stretching and curling your face into the warm thing that was next to your face. Jensen chuckled and you remembered he was there, it was his body that felt cuddly and nice beside you.

“Have a good nap?” he asked. You didn’t respond and he put his hands on your shoulders, sitting you upright. “How about some lunch?”

“I’m not all that hungry,” you said, rubbing your eyes. When you looked at him again he looked sad. “I guess I could eat something.”

“Good girl,” he said, kissing your forehead as he stood up.

“Jensen?” you asked while he stretched out, heading for the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you?” he said gently. You scrunched up your face, opening your mouth a few times as you searched for the right words.

“Why?” you finally said.

“Because you’d be doing the same for me. We’re there for each other,” he said, smiling at you. “What would you like to eat? I’m cooking.”

“I don’t care,” you said.

“I’ll make something yummy,” he said. “Promise.”

“Hey, I’m going to head home if that’s alright. I can stop by before work,” said Jensen at the end of the day.

“You don’t have to,” you said. “Come check on me I mean. I feel much better.”

“Oh,” he said.

“Jens. Thanks for hanging out with me today. Really,” you said. “After the past week and everything...thanks.”

“No problem,” he said softly. “I’ll text you tomorrow sometime.”

“Thanks, Jensen.”

“Hey, Jared,” you said a few days later.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” asked Jared from the other end of the line.

“You heard from Jensen lately?” you asked.

“Just saw him get dropped off at home about ten minutes ago. He said you guys are talking again. We were starting to get worried for a minute there,” he said. You hummed, Jared tsking you. “What’s up?”

“I haven’t heard from him since Sunday is all and he’s not responding to me. At all. I was...Sunday wasn’t so great for me. I’m kind of nervous that maybe he was just being polite and all and he doesn’t actually…want to be friends anymore. He won’t answer me,” you said.

“He’s been off all week,” said Jared after a moment. “He doesn’t want to talk about it, whatever it is.”

“So he doesn’t want-“

“No, I mean off like he’s sad about something. You know this stuff with Jensen. It’s all subtle. Why don’t you swing by his place, check on him. I’m sure he’d appreciate it,” said Jared.

“Are you sure he wants to see me? I don’t want to piss him off,” you said.

“I’m sure he does. Go see him. Try to cheer him up,” he said.

“Alright. Thanks, Jare.”

You’d been sitting in the lobby of Jensen’s building for ten minutes before the doorman finally waved you over and up.

“Sorry for the wait, Ms. Y/L/N. You can go on up,” he said.

You hummed and rode the elevator up, exiting and rounding the corner to a quiet hall, coming to a stop outside Jensen’s door. You knocked and waited, knocking again when you heard nothing.

“Come on, Jens,” you muttered. A minute later the door half opened, Jensen scowling at you. “Hey grumpy.”

“What,” he said dryly. You tilted your head, his hair ruffled and he wasn’t wearing a shirt as far as you could tell.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you had a friend over,” you said.

“It’s just me but thanks for assuming,” he scowled again.

“You just look...are you okay?” you asked.

“Dandy. I was trying to get some sleep so if you don’t mind-“

“It’s not even seven, Jensen,” you said. “What’s-“

“Could you just go away?” he said.

“What is your problem? Why are you avoiding me?” you asked.

“Go. Away,” he growled.

“No,” you said, brushing past him and into his apartment. You spun around, Jensen in a pair of sweats as he stalked over to you.

“Get out before I throw you-“

“Are you sick?” you asked. “You get grumpy when you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Well you’re acting weird and-“

“Get out of my house!” he said, throwing up his hands. “Just stay away from me. Stop talking to me.”

“I...I’m sorry,” you said. “For Sunday. For everything. I knew you weren’t in a great place either and I’m sorry I leaned on you like that. I won’t do it again. I promise. We can still be friends. Can’t we?”

“You don’t even realize…” he said with a laugh, waving you off.

“Realize what?”

“You drive me insane sometimes, I swear. You date the douchebag from hell, you constantly think you aren’t doing well at your job and are beneath everyone else, you order the freaking salad every time we go out with other people and nobody eats the fucking salad for dinner, Y/N. You have one bad day where you got supported the way you needed and you think that was wrong? Like I don’t even know how to describe how infuriating that is and then there’s the-“

“Jensen!” you said, cutting him off, Jensen taking a deep breath. “What is going on with you?”

“Maybe it’s just a tad aggravating being your friend, you know. I need you a hell of a lot more than you need me,” he said. He took off down the hall for his bedroom and slammed the door shut.

You waited a moment for him to calm down before you tried the door, thankfully finding it unlocked. He was on his bed, pillow over his face. You took a seat on the edge, finding one of his hands and holding it. He tensed up, almost pulling away before he stopped himself.

“Why do you think I don’t need you?” you asked softly.

“You didn’t want me to check on you anymore,” he said.

“Jensen,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I didn’t need you to come and physically check on me that day. That does not mean you can’t come over and do it if you want to though. I was only trying to say I was in a better place and I didn’t need it. I only got better because you were there for me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled under the pillow. You tore it off his face, tossing it on the other side of the bed. “Just go, Y/N. I had a long day is all. It’s fine.”

“Yeah. You’re the epitome of fine, aren’t you,” you said. You stood up and went to his closet, grabbing a Henley and a clean pair of sweatpants off the shelf. You handed them to him, Jensen raising an eyebrow. “Go take a shower. You have fake blood under your chin and you smell like sweat. Go.”

“What-“

“Just do what I said, Ackles,” you said, shoving the clothes in his arms. He grumbled but stood and went to the bathroom. You waited until you heard the shower head turn on to head to the kitchen. He didn’t have much food but you found enough to whip up a few omelettes.

He left his bedroom about ten minutes after you sent him to clean up. He was still giving you the stink eye as he took a seat at the counter.

“What are you doing?” he said as you sat a glass down in front of him.

“My best friend feels shitty so I’m taking care of him,” you said.

“You’re so annoying,” he mumbled, taking a bite of his food. You left it at that, making sure he got some hot food in him, Jensen rubbing his eyes when he finished.

“Let’s watch a little TV before you head to bed,” you said.

He sighed but went to the couch without prompting that time. After cleaning up, you joined him, Jensen staring at you when you sat right next to him.

“Close enough?” he said.

“Uh huh,” you said, giving him a hug. He nearly pulled out of it but he finally relented and rested his head on your shoulder. “Hugs make everything better.”

“Can I be honest?” he said after a few minutes.

“Of course,” you said, Jensen sitting back some.

“I don’t know what I did wrong. I think maybe I was too picky but then I think I wasn’t. I mean, if you’re my best friend, you’d tell me what I’m doing wrong, right?” he asked.

“Sure. What are we talking about though?” you asked.

“What you said last week. Why I’m single. Do I just screw it up like how I overreacted? I mean-“

“I am so sorry I said that to you. I was trying to be mean for no reason. That’s all. Any girl would be lucky to have you,” you said. “Is that why you’re so upset? Jensen, you have got to believe me when I say I was lying. It wasn’t true. At all.”

“But it is,” he said, shaking his head at you. “I mean, you never even noticed.”

“Noticed what?” you asked.

“See?” he said.

“See what?”

“I like you. You never noticed,” he said.

“Jensen,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “Do you remember what Marcus said about you stealing people’s girlfriends? Do you realize why he was acting so inappropriate in front of you and your producers? He thought I was in love with you, Jensen.”

“Me?” he scoffed.

“Yeah, you. Dork,” you said, smiling at him. “I mean...Jensen. I like you. We’re best friends. It’s always been easy up until the last few weeks. Maybe it was so easy because I was always with someone else and now that I’m not...it’s harder to know where the friendship part stops...or if it stops.”

“Oh,” he said after a moment, giving you a nod. “I...I need a minute.”

“Okay,” you said. He stood up and walked over to the hall, pausing a moment.

“I think...I think you should go home and we can both sleep on it. I’ll stop over your place after work tomorrow,” he said.

“Alright,” you said, heading for his front door, waiting for him to get there to lock up after you. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I hope.”

“You will. Promise.”

It was almost ten at night and you weren’t sure whether to be pissed or upset. If he wanted to flake then fine. You knew you’d hurt him and he had every right to want to not talk anymore. He could have at least told you that’s what was happening though.

You were ready to crawl into bed when your buzzer rang.

“Jensen is here to see you,” said the doorman.

“Let him up. I might not send him back in one piece as a warning,” you said.

Two minutes later you were opening your door, Jensen smiling as you answered. He had his backpack and a bag in one hand, his other arm in a black sling.

“What…” you said, spotting a bruise on his cheek.

“Tried to do a stunt myself today. I sort of fucked it up if you couldn’t tell,” he said.

“Jensen…” you said, taking the bags from him. He walked a little slowly to your kitchen, pointing at the bag.

“Can I have that? It’s my dinner,” he said. “Sorry I didn’t call. My mom wouldn’t let me off the phone for freaking ever. Remind me to put you as my emergency contact at work in the morning.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, Jensen flipping open a styrofoam lid and digging in.

“Yeah. Just took a hard fall. Dislocated my shoulder. It’ll be fine,” he said. “My dumbass ego is bruised much worse.”

“We don’t have to do this tonight if…” you trailed off, Jensen shaking his head.

“To quote my mother, which is why I’m so late so blame her, I have a little problem with transitioning from friendship to relationship. Apparently my seventh grade girlfriend is something my parents still discuss,” he said.

“They do. What about,” you said, hopping onto the counter, giving him a moment to shovel some food in his mouth.

“See that girl, she’d been my friend since like first grade. She was probably my first real crush. She told me we were dating one day and I was like awesome. But that’s because it was cool to do back then and it didn’t mean much you know? Apparently, I told my dad I really liked this girl and blah blah and he asked if I’d kissed her yet. I was like, no, cause I apparently got this thing where I don’t like to take certain risks. Long story short, the girls they always thought I really liked, the ones I was friends with...I never wanted to risk more with them. Understand?” he asked.

“But you’ve had girlfriends,” you said.

“Yeah and some were friends first but not those friends that I like really trusted. Basically I was told to grow a pair and ask you out,” you said. “That was my dad, not my mom. Apparently I also talk about you so much, they already thought we were dating so…time to stop being shy. You want to do this?”

“You about had a meltdown last night and I just got out of a unhealthy relationship,” you said.

“That about sums it up,” he said, holding up a forkful of food to you. “This is really good. Want some?”

“No thank you. So one phone call with your parents and you’ve got everything figured out now,” you said.

“Had it figured out before but I was scared. Not anymore,” he said. “Today’s my lucky day.”

“Yes clearly,” you said, waving up and down at him.

“Could have been much worse. I say we dive right in head first,” he said. You closed your eyes and sighed.

“We should-”

The floor creaked just as you felt lips brush over yours, soft and slow, meeting yours for a long few seconds. You blinked open your eyes when it was over, Jensen smiling at you.

“You were right. We definitely should have kissed,” he said, cocking his head.

“Do that again,” you said after a minute.

He leaned in and kissed you again, not pulling as far away this time.

“The fact that I’m not as embarrassed as I should be for my behavior yesterday is saying something,” he said.

“You had a bad day. You’re allowed to have those,” you said.

“So are you,” he said. “And we had them and we were both there for each other.”

“You’re not a stunt guy,” you said, ghosting your fingers over his cheek. “Don’t do that again.”

“I’ll do my best not to,” he said.

“Promise,” you said.

“I promise,” he said.

“Good.”

He didn’t move away, only stood there watching you. You lifted your chin up, allowing yourself to get a good look at him.

“It’s late. Why don’t you crash here,” you said. “We can figure out the rest in the morning.”

Six Months Later

“You want to grab lunch?” asked Jensen at the end of the production meeting.

“Sure,” you said. You hopped up and we’re halfway down the hall with him when you bumped into Marcus.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, giving you a nod. “You look good.”

“Aren’t you that asshole from the party?” said one of the other producers, rolling his eyes as walked past.

“Anyways…” said Marcus. “I’ve got a job interview. Movie on the other end of the lot.”

“Good for you,” you said.

“So things didn’t pan out with me and what’s her face. I think the long distance thing was wearing on me, us both, and we both said some things we didn’t mean back in the day,” he said.

“Oh,” you hummed, Jensen biting his bottom lip to stop from laughing.

“I’ll be in town for a while. Maybe you want to try again?” he asked.

“Sorry. I sort of have a boyfriend. One that doesn’t cheat on me and doesn’t speak to me how you did,” you said.”Apparently I’m also pretty. Guess what? Girls like to be told that. A little advice for next time.”

“This dick? He’s out of your league,” said Marcus.

“I’m out of hers to be honest. But it must be lonely playing tee ball all by yourself huh champ?” said Jensen with a smirk. “Next time you disrespect her like that again, I’d watch out. She really doesn’t like you.”

“Goodbye, Marcus. Good luck with your interview,” you said, grabbing Jensen’s hand and walking away.

“That was tamer than I was expecting,” he said.

“Oh, the idiot put me down as a character reference. They called a few days ago,” you said.

“What’d you tell ‘em?”

“He’s a pretty good AD. I left it at that and avoided the character questions. I’m done with him,” you said. “Where do you want to go to lunch?”

“Want to grab a bite down the block?” he asked. You hummed and followed him outside, walking there on the fall day. You were almost off the set when you saw Jared run up to you both, a big smile on his face. “Yes, you can come, Jared.”

“Where we going? I want a burger,” he said, taking off in front of the two of you.

“Well lead the way then, buddy,” teased Jensen, running his thumb over the back of your hand. “You’ve been talking about getting a puppy. This is what it’ll be like you realize.”

“Yeah but a puppy is cute and fluffy and actually you may have a point. At least this puppy we can return home at the end of the day,” you said.

“I can hear you two,” muttered Jared.

“Yes you can! Good boy,” teased Jensen, Jared groaning. “Alright, alright.”

Jared walked a bit faster than the two of you, Jensen giving you a smile.

“We should have him over tonight, make that dish he really likes. He’s been off this morning,” he said.

“I noticed too. Ease up on the teasing some,” you said. “Or tease me. He thinks it’s cute.”

“It is cute,” he said, squeezing your nose. “Got your nose.”

“Dork,” you said, Jensen squishing your cheeks before he remembered you were in public.

“Sorry,” he said, a rare moment of shyness on his face. It’d been a while since he got that way with you anymore. He wasn’t big on PDA but it was nice to see him forget and act like a goof sometimes.

“You’re still cute you know,” you said. “I mean, no Ryan Reynolds…”

“Shut up or I’m making you watch Deadpool again,” he said.

“Not as much of a punishment as you think,” you said, bumping his hip with you own. “Cutie.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll admit it. I’m adorable,” he said, holding your hand. “Let’s grab some lunch.”

“Whatever you say, Jensen.”

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #au #rpf #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #flangst

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anythingstephenking · 7 years

Text

Drive My Car

After months without turning a single page, I am crusin’! Man I am really on a roll! If you haven’t guessed yet, I am making car puns, as we dive (drive?) into Christine, the killer car story King promised his publishers would come after Different Seasons.

(Side note: while reading I make notes on my phone of pages to reference back to, cause only a real monster dog-ears pages. My notes on Christine read “crusin’…. on a roll… think of other car puns.” I didn’t.)

Although Wikipedia claims this book was published in ’82, it was actually released in ’83. Really letting me down Wikipedia. But happily I move into the next year of King books, and one step closer to catching them all like they were a buncha Pokemon.

This cover art is the tits. Also, the author’s photo on the back! Lastly, the inner cover with SK initialed in red and gold, like Gryffindor for serial killers.

This book has no preface or afterword, which is where I usually learn all my fun facts, so I did a bit more digging (nay, googling) for the backstory on this guy.

Well I couldn’t turn out much of interest. Sorry to disappoint. The story must have just appeared in King’s brain one day. I did love that the book was dedicated to George Romero. I have enjoyed learning all about King’s friendships, and imagine they all get together once a month in some kind of bizarro-minds-club, play cribbage and gripe about how everyone thinks they’re weirdos.

Posted without comment.

Each of the 51 chapters starts with a song lyric about cars. If you’ve ever listened to Car Talk, you know the list of songs about cars is long. I recognized the Bruce Springsteen ones. It was a throwaway device IMO, and just made me feel bad for the intern that had to work to get the rights to use 51 different song lyrics. King actually calls this out in a brief Author’s Note on the copyright page of my “Book Club” edition copy, thanking specific folks for helping him get the rights. OK, I guess I forgive you Stephen. Kisses.

On the surface, Christine is a story that is part killer car, part demon possession and part star-crossed lovers. I know, right?

Christine tells the story of Arnie Cunningham and his car Christine. Annie is your run-of-the-mill nerd. He’s got bad skin and has never done anything his parents wouldn’t approve of. His best bud Dennis is decidedly a cooler cat - he plays football so that means he’s automatically elevated to a higher class.

One day Arnie sees Christine, sitting broken on the lawn of an equally broken house and decides he has to have her. Men (eyeroll). He buys her from the owner, Roland LeBay and off he goes to a local garage to fix her up.

Dennis is almost immediately unnerved by Christine. Rightfully so, since the car goes on to kill a bunch of people.

Then along comes Leigh Cabot, the new girl in school. All the guys have the hots for her, but she’s only got eyes for Arnie. For once, the pretty girl picks the nerd, and it doesn’t really go all that well for her. Pick the quarterback the next time honey.

So Arnie and Leigh are an item, and Leigh also hates Christine. No one can quite put their fingers on it, but a rotten smell runs through her interior and the radio seems stuck on the 50’s rock station. Dennis and Leigh are plagued by nightmares of Christine coming to life.

And suddenly the engine began to rev and fall off, rev and fall off; its a hungry sound, frightening, and each time the engine revs Christine seems to lunge forward a bit, like a mean dog on a weak leash… and I want to move… but my feet seem nailed to the cracked pavement of the driveway.

King takes his time to build the story up, as he so often does. Christine doesn’t claim her first victim until halfway through. Until then you’re stuck with this looming sense of dread, knowing terrible things are coming. Every time Christine’s headlights turned on by themselves I muttered “oh... no “ to myself.

It’s not enough that Christine comes to life and runs people over (even manages this feat on a guy who is inside his house), but Arnie begins to take on characteristics of the previous owner, Roland LeBay. Since Roland was a real grade-a asshole, this doesn’t sit well with his friend, girlfriend or family. He becomes more and more like LeBay, until there’s no nerd left. Watching Arnie fall apart is heartbreaking.

But past the surface, Christine is a story of the pains of growing up, which isn’t really a new theme for King, who came of age himself in the 50s. And so often with King’s stories of teenage agony, and even when the story takes place in 1978, the 50s are lurking.

Before Arnie’s demise, he makes off-handed comments about how his parents know that having kids remind them that they’re going to die. Pretty grim stuff.

And Dennis has this revelation while out in Christine for the first time:

I was surprised by a choking panic that climbed up in my throat like dry fire. It was the first time a feeling like that came over me that year - but not the last. Yet it’s hard for me to explain, or even define. It had something to do with realizing that it was August 11, 1978, that I was going to be a senior in high school next month, and that when school started again it meant the end of a long, quiet phase of my life. I was getting ready to be a grown-up, and I saw that somehow - saw it for sure, for the first time in that lovely but somehow ancient spill of golden light flooding the alleyway between a bowling alley and a roast beef joint. And I think I understood then that what really scares people about growing up is that you stop trying on the life-mask and start trying on another one. If being a kid is about learning how to live, then being a grown-up is about learning how to die.

And these kids learn their lesson.

In some ways, Christine felt like a stronger coming of age tale than The Body. I was really rooting for these kids.

7/10

First line: This is the story of a lover’s triangle, I suppose you’d say - Arnie Cunningham, Leigh Cabot, and, of course, Christine.

Last line: His unending fury.

Added Bonus: King said in an interview about Christine getting killed and perhaps coming back to life (35 year old spoiler, sorry!): "All I can think of would be if the parts are recycled, you'd end up with this sort of homicidal Cuisinart, or something like that!”

Hardy Har Har! I might not be scared of cars but I am now scared of my food processor.

Adaptations:

Christine The Movie was the quickest turn-around from page to screen of any King movie, which began filming just as the book was released. The producer was a friend of King’s, and signed on before the book was published. He had his pick between Christine and Cujo, and chose Christine because Cujo seemed “too silly.” For real bro? I mean, they’re both great stories but I would tend to think of a rabid dog as a more serious threat than a sentient car that love Buddy Holly songs and blood.

1983 was a busy year for King movies. I’ve lost track since I am reading the books chronologically but not watching the movies that way. I’ve already watched some spectacularly bad King movies, but at this point in 1983, the movie-going public had only seen Carrie, Salem’s Lot and The Shining. Given the popularity of 2/3 of these movies, I bet everyone in Hollywood wanted their hands on the rights to a King story.

In 1983 Cujo, The Dead Zone and Christine all hit the big screens in August, October and December, respectively. I don’t know for sure but if I had to guess, that was too much King.

So, if you expect a whole lot of a John Carpenter movie about a killer car, well then, that’s your own fault. This movie was a lot of fun. As with so many King movies, his storytelling and character building just doesn’t translate to the big screen. The screenwriters seemed to not even care to try, boiling the main characters down to stereotypes. Arnie rocks giant glasses with tape across the arch; Dennis wears his letterman jacket; Leigh’s got great legs. Christine rolls around killing people that cross Arnie. There’s little mention of LeBay or his backstory in creating (or at least encouraging) Christine.

Instead, there’s the film’s opening sequence to explain Christine’s origin, which I just adored. Christine’s rolling along the production line in Detroit, the sole red car in a sea of white. A line worker attempts to open her hood, and it promptly clasps down on his hand. All while George Thorogood’s Bad To The Bone plays. Just on the nose, great start.

Unlike the novel with its clear themes of friendship, first love and looming adulthood, this movie is about one thing and one thing only - a killer car. Which is really ok. John Carpenter does his best and there’s some suspenseful moments with Halloween-esque sound effects. Whenever someone is pissing Christine off she locks her doors and Little Richard starts singing from her stereo "Keep a knockin' but you can't come in.” Christine catches on fire and still manages to run someone down, setting him on fire in the process. I’m not much a fan of big action sequences, but knowing they used almost 30 cars to make this and everything was filmed sans CGI made me appreciate it more.

Before I go, quick notes on the cast. Kevin Bacon was set to play Dennis, but chose to do Footloose instead. Good call, past Kevin Bacon. So they cast this guy, who is basically a poor man Kevin Bacon.

Leigh is played by Alexandra Paul, who would go on to rock a rad red swimsuit on Baywatch. Kelly Preston has a small role, and would go on to play the role of a lifetime as John Travolta’s wife. Rounding out the supporting cast was Robert Proskey (who I remember as Mr. Lundy in Mrs. Doubtfire), and Harry Dean Stanton who has basically been in everything.

Next up is Pet Semetery, which is (Chris Trager voice) literally my favorite King. My goal is to get through It before the new movie comes out in September, which means I have six books to get through in 3 months. So (spooky voice) I’ll be right back!

#christine #stephen king #book review #movie review

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preservationandruin · 7 years

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Words of Radiance Part 2

Viewpoints here are a weirder spread--Shallan, Kaladin, Adolin, and Sadeas. Not sure how long this will take me to get through or how many sub-parts the liveblog is gonna be, so bear with me!

Shallan takes control, Kaladin tries to work with what he has and meets a worldhopper, Renarin jumps off a roof, and people talk way too much about Amaram for either my or Kaladin’s liking.

Epigraphs here are snippets of the Listener songs, which is probably why we had to get the Eshonai chapters first--so we could tell what they were talking about. In any case, Shallan is travelling with Tvklav’s crew--who I’m pretty sure are coincidentally the slavers who sold Kaladin. Because sometimes I feel like Sanderson’s world operates on the Dickensian premise of “everyone knows each other by coincidence.” Shallan is curious about the Frostlands’ natural vegetation. She also tries having conversation, but it doesn’t really work, in party because (rightly, given the situation) people don’t trust her.

We also learn that Jasnah kept, in her personal trunk, a drawing that Shallan had done of her. Shallan ends up mourning both Jasnah and the fact that all of her sketchpads--something she dismisses, but essentially her life’s work--are gone as well.

More sketches--this time of various fighting stances. Nazh has written that he had to steal the scroll these were on and that the bottom half was eaten by an axehound. Nazh leads an interesting and fraught life.

Cut to Adolin talking to his blade, something I still think might be significant. At the very least, I hope that spren can hear him and takes some comfort from having a human talk to them and trust them? We also get the story that nobody took Adolin seriously and that the guy he won the Blade from wanted to duel Adolin to embarrass Dalinar. Didn’t quite work that way. The Plate Adolin got from his mom’s side. Also, Adolin refusing to name his Blade is also important. Also, this: “I appreciate what you’ve done for me. I know you’d do it for anyone who held you, but I still appreciate it. I...I want you to know: I believe in Father. I believe he’s right...”

Okay, I know I’ve gone on about Edgedancer Adolin before, but one of the things for the Edgedancers definitely seems to be paying attention to the people and things people take for granted. Like, say, the fact that your shardblade fights with you.

Anyway, immediately after that we get the fact that Adolin can’t fucking read, not even glyphs. Navani voice: please get married so that I stop worrying about you not being able to fucking read. Also, Adolin is worried because they haven’t heard anything from Jasnah’s ship--WITH GOOD REASON. Also, Adolin insists that breaking up with Danlan wasn’t his fault--apparently she’d been saying something to her friends--but given that it’s Adolin it’s kind of hard to tell.

Also, Renarin and Adolin run through Adolin’s list of good-luck charms for duels---talk to the sword, eat chicken before you duel, wear mother’s chain--and Navani is skeptical and the boys are Highly Indignant that Navani is skeptical. Also also, Adolin likes pissing off the guards because he doesn’t like Kaladin--thinks something is “off” about Kaladin. As always, he’s not wrong. But he is being petty.

And then Adolin just crushes the other dude because he’s Adolin Kholin. He beats him so badly that the judge tries to stop them, but Adolin points out he didn’t break any rules. On the other hand, this probably didn’t endear Adolin to people--meaning that they were more likely to let slide that fucking 4-on-1 that Sadeas attempts later. Renarin thinks it was awesome, and Adolin gives him the blade. Which, uh, I mean, from Adolin’s point of view it was the best thing to do, but reading this again a) Renarin is notably hesitant to take the blade (Glys talking to him?) and also grimaces when he takes it and holds it (it’s screaming). But, unlike Dalinar or Kaladin later, he keeps holding it.

Also, Adolin’s brutality here wasn’t planned, it was just something that happened and that he’s confused about later, feeling drained. He did get the Thrill. I’m not sure what’s going on there, but it might not be good.

Back to Shallan, where she’s using Pattern to spy on the slavers to try to figure out how to deal with them. She also notes that these people don’t treat her like a real person, but instead as a means to an end, much like Kabsal, and she loses a bit of her temper and also mildly terrifies Tvklav. She realizes that Tvklav and the others don’t know she’s a timid rural lighteyes, and she also realizes that she can make them see her in certain ways, not just by copying Jasnah.

Honestly, this entire trip to the Shattered Plains does a lot more for Shallan’s lightweaving than studying with Jasnah, I think. Nothing like being thrown into a fire to teach you to deal with it? Anyway, the deserters show up, and we cut over to Kaladin. The lighteyes sparring grounds is somewhat disappointing to the bridgemen, who expected something cooler.

Also, Kaladin is plotting to kill Amaram already, which is THE MOST RELATEABLE but also not good for his oaths i guess. Anyway, Kaladin and the gang with him are supposed to be protecting the Kholin bros while they’re training, they get some backsass from Ardents, Kaladin backsasses back, and it works out. Kaladin is also left standing with Moash, which...okay, knowing where Moash’s character arc goes, I’m just going to be side-eyeing him the whole book, I apologize. We get a note that the numbers are still appearing--honestly Dalinar tell Kaladin it’s probably someone in there already so he stops panicking over intruders--and Kaladin starts getting irritated about Dalinar and Amaram again and Syl makes him admit that he does know that Dalinar, at least, is honorable. Amaram just has him fooled.

Also, Kaladin is backsassing Adolin, and uses “Brightlord” for him--the title used for people he doesn’t respect as much. Adolin says that the only reason he hasn’t thrown Kaladin through a window is because he owes Kaladin his life. Renarin is just standing there, being awkward, holding his Blade--he had to hold that thing for five days. Yikes.

Anyway, Syl doesn’t like the brothers, but only because they carry Shards (I hope. They’re good boys Brent). And we run into Vasher--I mean, Zahel, but it’s Vasher. Also, Adolin waited to bring Renarin until he knew Zahel was there so he could pressure Zahel into taking Renarin under his wing, and Syl drops the fact that she’s a tiny piece of a god, although it’s unclear how seriously Kaladin takes that. Back to Shallan, who is covering anxiety about the deserters with scholarship. She also sketches Bluth here--first a more true to life version, and then an idealized one with him in a proper uniform with a good weapon. Pattern asks about why people shit and Shallan does not want to be having that conversation. Pattern also says that Shallan--and presumably this is a Lightweaver thing--lives lies to make herself strong, but must speak truths to progress.

Back to Kaladin, who’s talking with Lopen. Also, Kaladin uses the word “greenvines” to mean new recruits. And there’s another highstorm coming--meaning Kaladin is paranoid about the numbers again. Also they watch Adolin training, and we get this absolutely amazing exchange:

“I’ve seen him summon that weapon before.” “Yeah, gancho, on the battlefield, when we saved his sorry ass from Sadeas.” I LOVE LOPEN. Also, Renarin’s training is beginning--he hasn’t been trained to fight, so there aren’t any bad habits for him to unlearn. And also this is the part where Zahel just tells Renarin to jump off the roof a bunch of times and also uses idioms that make absolutely no sense translated literally in Rosharan. Example: “I’m old, son. Repeating myself makes me eat the wrong flower.” I’m sorry Zahel that literally just sounds like a shitpost.

And then Kaladin and Zahel have a conversation while, in the background, Renarin is throwing himself off a building again and again. Fun digression story, this part reminds me of a story from my mom’s family? She had 8 brothers and little to no parental supervision so some hijinks went down including the boys, at one point, deciding to play “who can jump off the highest object” which ended in the youngest jumping off the shed and breaking his leg. Don’t do these things unless you’re in Shardplate, kids. Kaladin discredits how well Renarin will do, but Zahel’s got a better idea of it.

And also Zahel starts berating Kaladin for some of his nonchalance--like assuming he knows how to fight Shardbearers just because he got lucky against two. It’s turning into Sparring Bantertime. And then Adolin makes the mistake of further antagonizing Kaladin, they get in a fight, and Zahel calls Adolin the fuck out for challenging someone without shardplate when Adolin is in Shardplate because what the actual fuck, you could kill people. Zahel also says that Kaladin reminds him of Adolin, to which Kaladin Is Very Offended, and Zahel starts laughing at him. Kaladin also notes that the stormlight drained from him, and Syl points out that he wasn’t protecting anyone.

Shallan flashback time--we get the fact that when Shallan thinks about her mother her brain shuts down. She also hasn’t spoken for five months, apparently--since her mother was killed. Helaran gives Shallan a drawing pad and charcoals and says that he needs her to come back because he’s going to be gone for a few years, and he’s worried about the others. And of course what Shallan automatically draws is the murder scene, which worries Helaran as well and he tells her to draw safe things instead of dwelling on the past. Shallan spoke for the first time in months to stop Helaran from killing their father. And Shallan sees her father in a furious rage, but he stops himself before he hurts her. I still wonder--did he just care about her more, or was he scared of her abilities and didn’t want to provoke them? Well, there’s not much way to know now.

Shallan, again. The listener song quoted here does mention artform as a thing that exists. Anyway, we’ve just run into Shallan taking control of her caravan and leading them down to help another group against the bandits, because we’ve hit another moment where Shallan’s back’s against the wall and she becomes certain--and flat-up offers the deserters redemption if they help her help the other people. The leader doesn’t listen, but the others--including Gaz, everyone runs into everyone else out on the Shattered Plains, huh--do. Another new Listener form is mentioned--meditationform, meant for teaching and consolation, used by the gods for lies and desolation.

Also, we meet Tyn here. Also, the leader of the deserters--Vathah--attempts to threaten Shallan, and Pattern spooks the living shit out of him by saying “you should let her go” while Shallan pretends to hear nothing. Also, Shallan frees Tvklav’s slaves, including using the line “I saved your life, you oily little man.” And Shallan also sees that the caravan survivors burned a prayer of thanks for the deserters who saved their lives, which is great.

Back to Kaladin. Also, the listener song mentions stormform here, including the phrases “beware its powers” and “beware its end.” And it also says it “brings the gods their night.” So we’re getting heavy hints that stormform is really bad news. Also, Kaladin sees a red light out in the highstorm and thinks it looks like eyes. Creepy. Adolin is looking at fashions, Renarin is stimming, Elhokar is fretting. Kaladin is trying to unobtrusively be nosy.

Also, Renarin geeks out about fabrials to Kaladin, and Kaladin wonders why Adolin is looking at fashion and Adolin gets defensive. No numbers appear--probably because Renarin is in a room with other people the whole time. Adolin mentions that the only Shardbearer in Sadeas’ camp other than Sadeas is Amaram, Dalinar jokingly comments that Adolin won’t be dueling him, certainly, while I am in the background yelling “KICK HIS ASS, ADOLIN! KICK HIS MISERABLE ASS!”

Anyway now they’re talking more about Amaram. Can we stop talking about Amaram. You’re not going to get him to secede from Sadeas’s side. He’s a piece of shit. Kaladin also notices that when people mention Amaram, he gets upset and tense, UNDERSTANDABLY.

And so Kaladin goes to tell Dalinar about Amaram, and Dalinar points out that Kaladin doesn’t have any proof. Syl is optimistic, saying that Dalinar listened--and she’s actually right in the end, Syl is always right, she’s the best--but Kaladin says that he didn’t. Syl is also very upset at the thought of Kaladin “finding his own justice,” as he puts it, and points out that this is not what he’s supposed to be like as a Windrunner.

Also, Shen confronts Kaladin--which is an early sign that Shen is not a normal Parshman--and says that he isn’t really treated as Bridge Four, and that he’s basically still a slave, and Kaladin can’t argue with that and hates it. And then one of the palace guards runs in, panicking, and I’m pretty sure this is the Szeth attack.

Listener song talking about “Nightform” which apparently predicts the future--there is the whole “Voidbringers see the future” thing. In any case, the “attack” was someone sabotaging the railing and balcony where Elhokar stands. Kaladin points out that whoever tried it was an idiot--or, more precisely, a coward, if they’re the same person who was behind the drained stormlight in the Plate. They want to make Elhokar’s death look like an accident, but they tipped their hand here--because the only tool that could have cut away at the balcony like that was a Shardblade. Kaladin also swears, here, that Dalinar can trust him--one half of the conflicting oaths that tear him apart in this book. Dalinar also assumes that bridgemen have no part in warcamp politics, which is...a bit naive. Kaladin does, as does Moash--lighteyes can engender deep antagonism in darkeyes without realizing.

I’ll cut this here and get the rest of Part Two in another post.

#stormlight archive liveblog #roshar #adolin kholin can't fucking read #edgedancer adolin musing #renarin kholin foreshadowing #i loathe meridas amaram #FUCK YEAH BRIDGE FOUR

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