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bubblesreplies · 2 years

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A Wish In The Dark // Eleven

Jason Kolchek X Female Reader

A/N: alright guys, I am super excited about this chapter. I'm told the dark mode issue is fixed but if it isn't, I'm so sorry and it looks normal in light mode :(. this one is pretty long, but I hope you still enjoy it because things are moving along now. Please leave me comments and all of the thoughts because...guys... this ending? you're welcome. That is all. (except also PLEASE mind the tags. PLEASE.)

WARNINGS AND TAGS: NSFW 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, domestic violence NOT BY JASON, domestic abuse NOT BY JASON, choking NOT BY JASON, reader has unhealthy coping mechanisms, bad friends, ex-boyfriends, reader lashing out, insecure!reader, reader needs therapy, cussing, dancing around feelings, lots of confessions happening right now, teasing!Jason, cocky!Jason, protective!Jason, Jason beats a man up, PTSD, trauma, domestic!Jason, police involved in this chapter, graphic depictions of panic attacks, picking a fight because you're scared, unhealthy mannerisms, sharing a bed, poor safety choices but please don't victim blame here, dark!Jason, scarily protective!Jason, fighting, violence, spitting in somebody's face, abusers using twisted logic, gaslighting, manipulation, putting somebody in harm's way purposefully, betrayal, toxic friendships, love confessions, Jason yelling at people, making out, ass-grabbing, pelvic thrusting,

Word Count: 11k

Wish Masterlist, Jason Masterlist, Main Masterlist

Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter

Somewhere I Belong

“Wow. You exist.”

You snorted, but avoided Jason’s eyes as you exited your room, making a mental note that he must have just gotten back home. He smelled slightly like alcohol, and a lot like his sweat, and you wondered just what he was out all night doing this time.

Or who he was doing.

You winced at yourself as you pulled your refrigerator door open, snagging a Monster and popping up the tab, ignoring Jason’s annoyed sigh. It was ridiculous for you to be jealous—he’d finally made some friends around town, mostly at your school where he now worked with Allie—but you knew that he still had a fondness for you. You just…wondered, you supposed. Wondered if now that he had friends and a life outside of you, if he would also meet someone who wasn’t you. If maybe, the only reason he’d liked you in the first place—or you thought he liked you—was simply because you were the only available girl in his vicinity.

It had been two weeks since your performance, and the two of you had hardly seen each other. Between your late nights with midterms coming around the corner, Jason working during the day and occasionally going out with his friends at night, it was hard to touch on what your relationship was now. Were you still fake dating? Were you anything at all? Jason had always invited you when he went out, and you’d gone once or twice, but lately you were holed up in your room studying as if your life depended on it.

“Midterms are important, Jason,” you hissed back at him, with much more malice than you’d been originally intending. You turned to him then with a frown and crossed arms, daring him to piss you off even more than you already were. Even if you logically had no reason to be pissed off. “You can’t expect me to just fucking blow them off and spend every waking moment partying with you.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, knowing you well enough now to see right through your uncaring facade. “That ain’t fair,” he responded, pushing himself off of the couch and making his way over to you, cornering you by the fridge and wrapping his hand around your energy drink, setting it down onto the counter behind him. “And it’s ten p.m., baby; not a great idea.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you sneered back, reaching back around him and snatching the Monster once again. Jason shot you a disapproving look, but made no move to take it back again. Instead, he sighed, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“That ain’t fair, either,” Jason insisted, and you frowned as he pulled you in with his arms around your waist, knowing he was right. “You know I wouldn’t ever try to tell you what to do; and I wasn’t partyin’ tonight. I went out with some guys to the gym.”

“With alcohol?”

“And we had a few beers,” Jason finished with a knowing smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead and nuzzling his nose against yours. He hadn’t kissed you anywhere for two weeks—both of you hardly seeing each other the past two weeks—and you wondered if this was it. If he was finally going to kiss you kiss you now—but he didn’t. “It would’ve been better if you were there.”

You snorted. “Yeah. Sure. I’m sure you pulled your fair share of hotter, fit girls at the stupid gym.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jason exclaimed, pulling slightly away from you so that he could look at your face, keeping his hands planted steadily on your waist. He had an incredulous expression painted on his face and his shock made you look away from the guilt, the reality of how abrupt and strange your outburst must have seemed to him settling over you. “What’s that all about?!

“Nothing,” you lied uneasily, unaware that your nose was scrunching and your face was pulling up into a pout that, if Jason wasn’t so worred about how pissed you seemed to be at him, he would have found adorable.

“No, it ain’t nothin’,” Jason argued, reaching an arm out to corner you as you pulled out of his grasp and tried to leave. “And I’m sick of dancin’ around whatever the fuck I did, ‘cause you’ve been actin’ pissy for the last two weeks.”

“Wow, Jason, how sweet of you,” you deadpanned, but you and he both knew it was only a tactic to get him to shut up and drop it—and that it wasn’t working. You tried to work your way through him, but he grabbed your waist, his brown eyes concerned and even slightly annoyed. You stopped, looking up at him with a frown as you tried to hide the guilt from your eyes, knowing that you were being completely irrational.

“C’mon, Y/n.” Jason’s voice was significantly softer now, and he reached out to push your hair behind your ear, kissing your forehead again—and as he pulled away, you noticed that his eyes were wide and definitively worried. “What did I do these past few weeks to make you this upset, Y/n? What changed?”

You took a deep breath and winced, sinking further into the warmth and comfort that always was Jason Kolchek. The truth of the matter was, you were embarrassed. Actually, completely mortified. Because how could you sit here and say, actually, I’m just fucking seething with a raging jealousy; because now, I’m not the only single woman in your life and you’re probably going to figure out—if you haven’t figured it out, already—that there are plenty of other more beautiful, more normal women who you’d probably much rather be with.

Yeah, no fucking way you could say that to Jason. You just couldn’t. It sounded…crazy, and what would you even be doing if you admitted that to him? You’d be handing your true feelings over on a silver platter, and that would be giving him the upper hand in this situation. Not to mention, you weren’t even sure that he felt the same way as you. If he did, and if you were certain of it, you’d probably just bite the bullet and tell him how you were feeling.

“Nothing,” you insisted, but you could feel your resolve weakening. Jason raised an eyebrow at you and you huffed back, but made no move to pull away as he encircled his arms around your waist, one hand cupping your cheek and pushing hair away from your eyes. “Just—forget about it, alright?”

“You and I both know that ain’t gonna happen,” Jason answered with a large, amused smile, your eyes wandering over to his dimple as they always did. “So, once again, Y/n, what’s wrong and how can I fix it?”

You sighed in defeat, shaking your head, before gathering the courage to look up into his kind, concerned eyes. With a gulp, you said, “You have a job now, Jason, and—and friends. And you see them a lot.”

“Oh,” Jason responded instantly, unknowingly cutting off the second and more embarrassing part of your admission. His brow furrowed as he thought over your words and you waited for him to speak. “And I’m spending too much time going out with my friends?”

“No, absolutely not,” you refuted immediately, wincing as you realized just how much of an idiot you sounded. How silly your fears actually were. “I just—it’s—before, you only knew me, and now you know…other girls, and, I don’t know—maybe now you’ll meet another girl who is prettier, or tougher, or just more your type, you know? And you didn’t actually like me because I’m me, but because I was your only option.”

Now that the words were out, you actually felt relieved, like somehow telling Jason had actually been the weight you were carrying and not the fear itself. At least, you felt relieved before you heard Jason’s reaction; a loud, bellowing laugh.

Offended, you pushed him away, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a few steps away from him. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” you grumbled, glaring harder at him when you saw that he was still smiling, amusedly, back at you. “It’s not like we’re real dating so it’s so fucking stupid, right?”

Your final words were laced with sarcasm and it seemed to register with Jason immediately, and you watched his face fall. You walked away and he instantly followed you around the counter, catching you fron behind the waist this time and wrapping his arms around your middle, his face nuzzling into your cheek.

“Wait, baby, no!” Jason’s voice came out as a beg and it caused you to pause, just for a moment. “Y/n, I wasn’t laughin’ at you, sweetheart. It’s just that—and no offense, baby—but that idea is completely ridiculous.”

You wriggled out of his grasp and turned around to look at him with a pout, ignoring his more-than-amused smile. Your arms were crossed over your chest again, and he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, letting his hand drop as he shook his head back at you, fondness lying inside his eyes as he stared at you.

“Look, sweetheart, it ain’t like you were keepin’ me hostage here,” Jason sighed, taking a step back as a redness colored his face. You wondered what he was embarrassed about, and desperately hoped that he was about to tell you. “I was free to leave whenever I wanted from the beginning of this little arrangement—and it’s not like I didn’t have access to bars, or clubs, or even the internet—and, other women, baby. But, believe it or not, Y/n, you ain’t actually the worst company in the world. Did’ya ever stop and think that just maybe I choose to stay here and spend my time with you, sweetheart? That maybe I actually do prefer your company? And that maybe I think you’re motherfuckin’ beautiful? That maybe—just maybe, Y/n—you are exactly my fuckin’ type?!”

You were stunned silent, standing frozen and rooted to your spot as your wide eyes and gaping jaw stared back up at Jason’s face, which had softened into a warm, comforting smile as he lifted his hand back up to stroke your cheekbones with his thumbs.

“W-what?” You stuttered, unable to form any real thoughts or words as Jason’s admission bounced around your head wildly, unrelenting, unwilling to give you any rest from his truth.

That maybe—just maybe—you are exactly my type?

Jason chuckled again and leaned in so close to you that you could feel his breath on your lips.

“Y’heard me, princess,” Jason whispered, his arms on the counter behind you, trapping your body, your chests nearly pressed together and his lips so, so close to being where you’d wanted them for longer than you’d care to admit. His eyes roamed over your face until they locked on your lips, and you watched as he ran his tongue over his own lips, eyes steady and unwavering on your mouth. “You really ain’t the worst company when you’re not being obnoxious.”

You gasped and Jason laughed heartily, not even the least bit offended when you teasingly shoved him away. His eyes moved from your lips to your eyes, and there was a teasing, happy glint within them that alone melted your anxieties away.

“Shut up and go shower,” you hissed back without any bite, your lips upturned in a smile as Jason grinned back at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head with a wink, leaving you flushing and speechless as he hurried off to the bathroom. The domesticity of it all—and Jason’s admission that he did, indeed, like you—left you feeling dizzy and giddy, a large smile stuck to your face as you shoved your energy drink back into the fridge, cuddling up instead with a hot chocolate and a large blanket on the couch.

I can take a tiny break from studying tonight, you reasoned with yourself, a content sigh pushing past your lips as you smiled to yourself. I can hangout—for a bit.

You waited, warm and cozy and happy, underneath your blanket as Jason showered, knowing exactly how he’d smell when he came out. That woodsy soap he used made you absolutely feral and tonight, you were certain there would be no holding back anymore. The two of you were crossing a line, slowly, and you were finally ready to take the plunge to the other side with him.

You were just contemplating changing into something a little sexier and dabbing on some perfume when there was a knock at your door. Checking the time—it was nearing eleven p.m.---you rose from the couch, abandoning your warm spot on the couch and cautiously making your way over to the door. You could still hear the sounds of Jason’s shower, the water probably still running down over his body, as you stood in front of your apartment door. You tugged your sweater down and rolled down the sleeves, creeping up onto your tiptoes to check the peephole.

You couldn’t make out anything but pitch black, and your veins ran cold, your blood feeling like ice flowing through your limbs. You took a step back to clear your head, and weighed your options.

Nobody but a handful of people knew where you lived, so at this hour, it was likely Derek and/or Allie at the door. The only other people who knew where your apartment was actually located, aside from you and Jason, were your mom and Chrissy. You knew your mom wouldn’t set foot inside of your apartment, but it could be Chrissy, probably back with some bullshit.

Annoyed at just the thought, you snarled, throwing open the door before you could really second guess yourself. You looked up at the person’s face—expecting your brother to be standing there with some news or something—but you were horribly, horribly wrong.

And if you thought your blood had run ice cold before, it was fucking frozen in place now.

“Y/n,” he greeted. Him. Dylan. My ex-boyfriend who almost—he’s back, he—how did he find me? What is he doing here? How does he know where I live? “Wow, your hair—it’s so different now. You look amazing.”

Panicked and unaware of how to proceed, you tried to hurriedly to shut the door, but his foot blocked it, a smile on his face as he chuckled. His jet-black hair and diamond blue eyes—eyes you had once fallen so far into that you’d nearly drowned—were so familiar and terrifying that you ached, desperate to get away, to get him away.

Cold, so cold. Blood spilling out onto the carpet. Your life, ended, at his hands—

“Hey now, I know this might come as sort of a shock baby, but you don’t need to shut me out again,” Dylan chided, but you kept your hand tight on the door, afraid that he was going to bust his way in and finish off what he’d started years ago. Afraid that in mere seconds, you’d be back in that hospital, and maybe this time, nobody would be able to save you.

“Don’t,” you managed to choke out, hands tight on the door, both of you pushing against each other as he attempted to force his way in and you attempted to keep him out. “Don’t you fucking call me that, you bastard.”

“Wow, still keeping up with the name-calling?” Dylan looked genuinely offended, like he’d thought you’d be giving him a warm welcome. “That hurts, Y/n, don’t you know that by now?”

“It hurts?” You shot back, afraid, but unwilling to stand down. “As much as multiple broken ribs? Or black eyes? Or nearly being strangled to death?”

You were playing with motherfucking fire but you didn’t care. You needed to show him—he needed to know—you weren’t that same terrified, fragile woman anymore. You could stand up for yourself now. You would fight back now.

Dylan’s face twisted in agony—a trick you’d seen many, many times before—and he took a step closer, successfully garnering his way into the apartment. He’d always been much stronger than me, physically. You gulped and took multiple steps near the kitchen, towards the knives, in case things escalated.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Dylan apologized, and even now that you knew all of his machinations, his voice almost convinced you that he meant it. Almost. “If I could take it all back, I would—I had so many issues, baby, but I’m better now—”

“I said don’t call me that,” you hissed back at him, backing up so far that your back hit the counter. Dylan’s eyebrows quirked, like it was funny, and you needed to turn back the tables and take the offensive. Straightening up with a snarl, you said, “Why the fuck are you even here? How the fuck do you know where I live?!”

“I told you, I’ve changed,” Dylan responded, taking a step closer to you. You clutched the counter, eyeing the glimmer in his eyes that you knew could change on a dime. “I miss you so much—you were so good to me, baby. Please—all I want is another chance.”

“To kill me?” You shrieked, and you were clutching the counter so hard that your hands were turning white and a few of your fingernail tips were breaking.

“Don’t be like that,” Dylan chastised, and you noticed the edge in his voice—a tell of his, that he was starting to get past the point of irritated, starting to move into the danger zone. “Please, I promise you, this time I’ll be different. I miss you, my mom misses you, and I know what I lost baby.” Dylan took a step closer to you and you held your breath as he placed his palm on your cheek, cold hands stroking you as you tried not to burst into tears. “And I have it on good authority that you miss me, too—”

“Get out,” you commanded, pushing him away by the chest with both of your hands and crossing over to the door, hastily opening it back up. “Get the hell out of here Dylan, and don’t fucking come back. Ever.”

You watched as Dylan’s face changed from soft to hard, begging to fixed, and you blanched, fully prepared to scream, to fight, to do whatever you had to do.

“C’mon Y/n, be reasonable here,” Dylan pleaded, a wicked smile crossing his lips, sure he’d be getting his way. “How much more do I have to beg? How many more times are you going to make me apologize? I told you I was sorry.”

“Apologize all you want,” you deadpanned, clutching the doorknob and jerking your head to the open door. “I’ll never believe you. Never again.” Dylan’s smile turned into an agitated frown and you felt yourself blanch, despite your protestations to just be brave.

“Come on,” Dylan begged as he drew nearer to you, but you could see his jaw clenched and his eyes fiery with anger. “Can’t we just go out for a minute, go on a walk, and talk this all over? I’ve been to therapy, I’ve changed, and I still love you, Y/n.”

“No, absolutely not,” you insisted harshly, pulling away once again from his touch and rushing towards the living room, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap. “I don’t give a fuck if you’ve changed, I don’t care if you’ve gone to therapy—all I care about is you getting the fuck out of my house,” you admitted, and it was then that you realized that your hands were shaking, and you probably weren’t very convincing. Dylan scoffed, and smiled, and he was advancing towards you when you started screaming.

“OUT! GET OUT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT—”

“Y/n?!”

Jason’s voice is what broke you out of your fear-filled trance, reminding you that you weren’t alone here—that you weren’t as unsafe as your PTSD led you to believe. With wide eyes, your head whipped towards the hallway and there he was, Jason, rushing towards you, wearing nothing but wet, wet hair and a pale blue towel wrapped around his waist. You were so motherfucking terrified that you couldn’t even allow yourself to enjoy the view.

Jason seemed to be assessing the situation—you had to hand it to him, he was observant and much smarter than he looked—and he reached you quickly, stepping protectively in front of you as he took Dylan in, up and down, no doubt wondering just who the fuck he was and why he had you so on edge by just his presence. He was studying him too, you noticed, as if Dylan could ever even compare to the marvel that was Jason Kolchek.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Jason questioned, calm and collected, even though he must have suspected that anybody who could make you scream like that and be so frightened was somebody who warranted heavy suspicion. “There some sort of problem here, man?”

“No, sorry bro,” Dylan answered with a faux smile, the one that fooled so many people. The oh-so-charming one that let him walk away with you without any suspicion from the general public. “No problem; I just need to speak to Y/n for a minute, alright?”

Jason looked down at you then, at your eyes—wide, petrified, tear-stricken. All you had to do was simply shake your head back at him and he understood, his own jaw clenching and taking on an even more protective stance as he turned back to your ex.

“Yeah, I don’t think so, man,” Jason responded, nodding towards the door. “Think it’s time for you to leave.” You could tell by the way that Dylan’s smile barely faltered that this wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he was still trying to play up the charm. Still trying to make himself look innocent.

“Alright, well, can I come back then, Y/n? I really think that we need to talk—I really need you to hear what I have to say, baby,” Dylan responded and you bristled, noticing the way that Jason stiffened in confusion beside you.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” you insisted, your voice low and angry. “I’m not your ‘baby,’ I’m not your girlfriend—I’m not your anything. Don’t come back here. Leave, and don’t come back here!”

Your voice was no longer bordering hysterical, it was there, and Jason took that as his cue to grab Dylan’s arm and personally escort him to the door.

“Time to go, man,” Jason growled and Dylan twisted around to stare at you with a snarl.

“Oh yeah?” He chided, nodding towards you. “If she didn’t want to see me so badly, then why the fuck did she let me in, then?” Jason didn’t take the bait, his hand tightening around Dylan’s arm as he glanced back at you, halfway to the front door.

“Is that so?” Jason laughed, shoving Dylan through the doorway. “Let’s just see about that then, buddy; you invite him in, Y/n?”

All you could do was shake your head, but Jason turned to see it, his gaze hardening as he looked back at your scumbag of an ex-boyfriend. “Did’ya ask him to leave?” Jason asked, his voice conveying that he already knew the answer to that question.

“Multiple times,” you choked out and Jason shoved him even harder, the anger palpable through the rigidity that he was currently holding within his body.

“Sounds like she asked you to leave,” Jason taunted, “So leave.”

“And just who the fuck do you think that you are?!” Dylan hissed back and Jason laughed out loud, efficiently blocking the doorway and your view of the man who had almost taken your life. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Jason responded and you moved close enough to see Dylan’s face fall, turning white. “Now get out of my fuckin’ house!”

You saw Dylan shake his head, a muttered, “Stupid little slut,” under his breath as he turned and left, apparently realizing that if it came down to it, he couldn’t take Jason in a fight. Jason shut and bolted the door before he turned to you, rushing back to your side eagerly as his hands came to your face, one on your neck and one on your cheek.

“Sweetheart, are you—are you alright?”

You couldn’t even muster the strength to answer—your heart was still beating so wildly that you were certain it was going to burst out of your chest. If you didn’t have a heart attack first.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Who the hell was that?” Jason tried again, and you leaned into his comfort, not even thinking about the fact that he was practically naked. You couldn’t really think about anything right now.

“Dylan,” you responded numbly, your voice monotone as you felt yourself emotionally shut down, your mind and body attempting to prevent you from the trauma. “My ex-boyfriend. It was a…” Your mind could barely form the words; how could you tell Jason who this was? How could you tell him that this man almost killed you?! “...bad breakup.”

“No,” Jason argued, pulling you into him by the waist and holding you close. You should’ve known that he could read you and your lies like a fucking book. “No fuckin’ way that’s all it is baby. I’m sorry, but your reaction is way too extreme to just be an ex-boyfriend.”

“He—no, he just—”

“Please, just—just tell me what happened sweetheart,” Jason begged, and you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. “You can trust me with anything, Y/n, you know that—right?”

Of course—of course you knew that. And you did; you trusted Jason more than you trusted anyone but you just…couldn’t do this right now. You couldn’t—you couldn’t do this. Not here, not now. You couldn’t relive this right now.

“Fuck, Jason, just—just let it go,” you whined, clutching your head as you pulled away from him, allowing the tears to overtake your eyes and your throat. “Please don’t ask me. Don’t ask me again.”

“Sweetheart, I just want to help—”

“I said don’t ask me again!” You shrieked, whipping back around and staring Jason down, your breaths coming in hurried pants as you felt the panic attack begin to overtake you. Your airway was closing up, your body was shaking, you were dizzy. If you had to bet, you’d bet that there were tears streaming down your face, even though you couldn’t feel them falling.

Fuck, you needed to ground yourself. What had your therapist taught you?

Five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can smell, two things you can hear, one thing you can taste.

Jason. Jason’s pale blue towel. His fucking sexy brown hair, dripping wet. His eight? Wow, yeah eight-pack. His large, brown eyes, looking me over with concern.

I can feel my sweater. I can feel the ground beneath my feet. I can feel my hair against my neck. I can feel the rings on my fingers that I haven’t taken off in years.

I can smell Jason’s shampoo—his farmboy, woodsy shit that I can never get out of my head. I can smell last night’s pasta. I can smell my own sweat from my lack of a shower for a few days.

I hear Jason saying my name, softly. I hear my own breathing beginning to slow down.

I can taste the bile, returning back into my stomach where it belongs.

“I’m sorry,” you said once you’d calmed down, taking a deep breath and allowing Jason to approach you. He did, his hands hanging by his side as he tentatively looked up at you from under his wet hair, unsure of what to do next. “I just—I need to calm down. I can’t talk about this right now, I—I need to go to bed now.”

“With me?”

Jason’s voice was so hopeful but so quiet—almost as if he’d never spoken at all. Your heart filled with such an overwhelming warmth and giddiness that even if you’d wanted to, you weren’t sure you could have turned him down.

“Please,” you whispered back, and Jason’s lips lifted up into a smile as he followed you to the bedroom—where he already kept his clothes, anyways—and you turned around with your eyes shut tight, letting him change, afraid of what you might do if you saw him. All of him.

Jason seemed to know what you were thinking because he smirked when he came into your line of sight, fully clothed, and you scowled at him, ignoring the way his eyes seemed to light up at the unspoken confrontation. Silently, the two of you crawled into bed and you fell asleep with his arms around you, his lips resting gently on your neck without ever kissing you at all.

* * * * *

Someone was watching you.

You thought.

You were pretty certain.

You also could have just been extra paranoid by your surprise visitor the night before, but you really didn’t think so. You could feel it, somebody’s eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. In each of your classes, in the hallways, in the parking lot.

You were scared; but you had Jason on speed-dial, and your fingers were already ready to go in the case of an emergency. You knew that, should the need arise, he wouldn’t waste any time in getting to you—work be damned.

You tried to calm yourself down, but still, the feeling of being followed wouldn’t leave you alone.

Which is why you shouldn’t have been so surprised when you felt his dangerously cold hands wrap around your neck.

“Did you miss me, baby?” Dylan asked as he whipped you around a dark corner, shoving you up against a nearby wall roughly, his hand never leaving its place on your throat. He pushed up against you harder and you gasped out a little breath of air, your eyes wide and terrified as you realized that the two of you were alone. No people, no cars, no streetlights. Not in this parking lot, and not this late at night.

In retrospect, not your smartest move.

“You know, it wasn’t very nice for you to let that asshole kick me out the other night,” Dylan pouted, and he had one hand on your waist while the other was still firmly pushed around your throat. If he applied even the slightest bit more pressure, you wouldn’t be able to breathe.

I know what that feels like.

“Not when you and I both know you don’t want him, you want me. Right baby?”

Your face contorted into a strangled glare as you attempted to kick him, but it was no use. He was much stronger than you, and he had you pinned. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words came out jumbled and choked, his hand suppressing your airway enough that you couldn’t even speak.

“What’s that, baby?” Dylan asked, easing up on your throat—just a little bit.

You took the moment to snarl at him, spit in his face, and say, “I don’t want you and I will never want you, you abusive piece of shit!”

You’d known it was a risk to be so aggressive, but you’d forgotten what it felt like to lose your last string of breath, to have black spots invade your vision, until Dylan used his full force against your neck and you lost all sense of air, your hands winding around his arm as you tried desperately to pull him away from you.

You tried to do anything—to kick, or thrash, or even scream—but all three attempts were unsuccessful. Dylan clearly didn’t appreciate your attempts to escape, as his hand tightened even more around your neck and you began to gag, the light stars at the edges of your vision the only thing you could see.

“Please,” Dylan scoffed, his hold loosening on your throat and allowing you a bit of air, your vision clearing on his sadistic, disgusting face. “If you really didn’t want me, then why would you have kept coming back to me—over and over and over again—and let me keep beating and beating and beating you? Only someone who really loves me would do that—be so fucking weak and pathetic, all for me?” You didn’t even have the strength to gag at his disgusting words, his twisted logic, even though every fibre of your being wanted to. In fact, your body barely reacted until he uttered his next admission.

“I know you love me—you don’t have to deny it anymore. Chrissy told me.”

Your eyes widened and shock coursed through your system at his words; Chrissy told him?! The same Chrissy who watched you be hit? Who helped you out of it? Who hid you, and cried with you, and called the police with you?

No. No, even she wouldn’t do that.

“Chrissy?” You managed to squeak out and Dylan nodded, a laugh on the tip of his lips as they spread across his face, mean, cheshire-like. Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his admission and you could no longer tell whether the tears in the corners of your eyes were from lack of air, or betrayal.

“Chrissy,” Dylan confirmed and if you could have gasped, you just might have. “Called me up the other day, told me how you still felt about me. How do you think I found you?”

The damning realization hit you like a ton of bricks and you thought you might have managed to gasp this time, or at the very least, you let out a small, nearly silent sob. Dylan’s voice barely registered in your brain, the reality of what Chrissy had done to you still reverberating around your head, unable to truly stick due to your unwillingness to accept the harsh truth.

“Now I’m going to give you one more chance to answer honestly—do you still love me, Y/n? Or do you love him?”

You knew he had to be talking about Jason. He had clearly rattled Dylan’s ego yesterday, and you assumed that it was what was causing his rage right now—a rage you’d seen all too often with him. Often enough that you knew it was only going to get worse from here.

Dylan had always seen you as a possession; a pathetic, feeble little thing that he could always get to come back to him, no matter how horribly he treated you. Now that you had taken the upper hand and left him, and then found somebody else to be with, he couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle the fact that his poor little bird wasn’t flying back to his coop anymore.

That fact made you mad; madder than you’d ever been. Mad at Dylan, mad at Chrissy, mad at yourself for not paying closer attention to your surroundings. For not going straight to the police when Dylan had shown up on your doorstep last night. For not listening to Jason this morning when he’d begged you to do just that.

Dylan loosened his grip tremendously, but still not enough for you to make any sort of escape—which you guessed was the point.

“I don’t love you,” you growled back at him, your voice already sounding hoarse and broken from the force of his hands. You didn’t care if you sounded weak to him anymore; you knew better now. You weren’t weak, and you would never be weak, ever again. “I will never love you, ever, again!”

Dylan’s face twisted and turned into an ugly, desperate, wounded scowl; your words had hurt him, and maybe somewhere deep down, he knew what he was doing was wrong. That he was a disgusting piece of shit. Maybe; but it certainly wasn’t your job to see that through. Not anymore.

Dylan’s hands returned with full force on your neck but you fought back this time, able to gain some headway as you kicked back against him, loosening his grip slightly. You took the opportunity to kick your flailing legs towards his crotch, and you knew that you had struck your mark when Dylan gasped out in pain and accidentally released you, your body hitting the cold, concrete floor as you gasped desperately for the breath that was rushing back into your system much too quickly.

You knew you didn’t have a moment to waste and so you didn’t waste any, getting to your feet and hitting the ground running as fast as your legs were physically able to take you. You knew that he was hot on your heels but you couldn’t bear to turn back and check, only focusing on moving forward and finding your car, or another person, or any form of escape at all.

You knew you were fucked when you hit a dead end, running into a corner that you knew students sometimes frequented—except for, apparently, right now, because it was deserted. Your body whipped around and you saw Dylan, advancing on you much closer than you’d thought he was, and with an angry, spiteful smile on his face. You whimpered in fear, pushing yourself farther into the corner as you attempted to put as much distance as you could between you and him.

“What, you thought you could actually outrun me?” Dylan taunted with a laugh and a shake of his head. You were shaking and you were trapped now, knowing that you had absolutely nowhere else to go. You’d never be able to run past him without him grabbing you, and there was nobody else here.

This was it this time.

“After what I did to you the last time that I saw you?” Dylan chuckled, as if you were the stupidest person in the entire world. Maybe you were. “Oh Y/n, you stupid fucking idiot, you. It was always meant to be this way; you were always meant to be submissive to me. You are my inferior half, Y/n, and the sooner you accept it—the easier it will be for you.”

You opened your mouth to bite back—if you died here, at least you’d die knowing you didn’t give him the fucking satisfation—but your words caught in your throat when you suddenly saw something. A flash of movement, from behind Dylan in the distance.

Someone running—someone running up to you. And gaining traction quite fast.

It took less than a minute for you to realize that it was Jason—and you gasped, your eyes alighting with hope just as Dylan was about to reach you. Dylan noticed the change and smiled, shaking his head as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them against the wall.

“That joy for me, baby?” He was smug, like he really thought that you had accepted him beating the ever-loving shit out of you. “If so, then you have no fucking idea what’s coming—”

Jason’s fist to the side of his head cut off his words, and his grip on your wrists. Dylan fell to the ground, clutching his head, and you locked eyes with Jason for a split second, your heart pounding harder than you’d ever felt it beat before. You ran to his side and he pulled you into him, looking at you with a strange mix of fear, anger, and relief. He didn’t say anything to you as he pushed you behind him and reared back on Dylan, the back of his body the only thing you could see as he kicked your ex back to the ground.

“Y/n, call the police.” Jason’s voice was deeper than usual, low, and shaky. Like he were trying to hold back just how angry he was—trying to hold back just what he wanted to do to Dylan. “Tell them that you have a restrainin’ order that’s been broken, and tell them exactly what he did to you and where we are. And tell them to send an ambulance.”

“But I don’t need—” your voice was still hoarse and Jason turned around with worried eyes when he heard how awful you sounded. “I don’t need an ambulance.”

Jason swallowed and turned back to Dylan, his voice something different, something feral when he said, “It’s not for you.”

You whipped out your phone and frantically dialed 911, hearing Jason’s voice in the background as he pinned Dylan to the ground, his knee to his throat as he took Dylan’s breath away—just like Dylan had taken yours.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need—I need police! And—and maybe an ambulance. At the Smith parking garage; my ex-boyfriend attacked me, I have a restraining order against him.”

“If you ever fuckin’ come near her ever again—if you ever touch her, or even think about touchin’ her— I promise you right here and right now, I will fuckin’ kill you,” Jason threatened lowly. You stood off to the side a little bit away, and you stared at Jason; his jaw was clenched and his hands were balled up into fists, clutching onto Dylan’s shirt as he slammed him into the ground, digging his knee even farther into his throat.

“You’re lucky she’s here right now, or I would fuckin’ end you, you abusive piece of shit!” Jason’s voice was irate, indignant, and you could see in Dylan’s eyes just how scared he was suddenly. He no longer held any control, no longer felt powerful; no, now he was pinned, and alone, and weak, and the consequences of his actions were upon him.

Finally. Finally, you could breathe. Finally, you felt…hopeful.

“Police are on their way; are you hurt ma’am?”

“A little, he—he choked me, but my current boyfriend is here now and he’s restraining him.”

“You’re damn lucky I ain’t a motherfuckin’ lowlife pile of horseshit like you, ‘cause if I was, I’d beat you senseless,” Jason growled, and now that you drew nearer, you could see he was only holding him down—with enough pressure to hurt him, but not enough to seriously wound him. “No, I ain’t gonna stoop down to your level, asshole; I ain’t ever gonna do anything as fucked as you. You know why? ‘Cause I would never hurt Y/n. And I sure as hell ain’t gonna scare her, either.”

Jason leaned down close to Dylan’s face and Dylan was gasping for breath, his blue eyes wide and darting around, terrified, as if there were someone around that would help him.

But there was only you.

“But listen here close you fuckin’ douchebag; I promise you, if you ever come around again, ever, I will walk back on my own fuckin’ words gladly and I will kill you myself.”

“Is your boyfriend hurting your ex-boyfriend?”

“No, ma’am, just—he’s just keeping him away from me.”

It wasn’t a lie, Jason wasn’t hurting Dylan. All he was doing was keeping him pinned to the ground, keeping him away from you, and making sure that Dylan knew that Jason was much, much stronger than him.

It was only seconds later that the police finally showed up, and everything began to happen in a blurred haze. Dylan was cuffed and taken away—the police had figured out pretty quickly that Jason hadn’t done anything wrong here—and you were put in the ambulance, being checked over by paramedics while Jason paced nervously nearby, running his hands through his hair and sending you frequent, anxious glances.

When you were cleared to go—nothing but a few bad bruises—you ran to Jason, who took you in with open arms and buried his face in your shoulder, his body heaving with deep, anxious breaths as he held you so close and so tightly to him, as if he were terrified of letting you go.

“Sweetheart, fuck,” Jason swore, clutching you tighter to him and pressing kisses to the top of your head wildly, as if he’d been scared he’d never get to again. “Fuck, baby, I was so scared—”

“I know, Jason, I know; I’m so sorry, I should have listened to you—”

“No, I’m so sorry, baby, but when—fuck, when I saw the bruises on your neck and when I heard your voice—fuck, I barely held back. I wanted to kill him. I still want to kill him!”

“Shh,” you comforted, and you noticed that Jason was shaking, clearly more affected by the night’s events than you had anticipated. “It’s okay, I’m okay now—”

Jason pulled away from you and cradled your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead fiercely. “I should have stayed with you all day today,” Jason apologized, his eyes looking down and sad. “I felt so fuckin’ wrong about you leavin’ by yourself earlier so I called Derek and I told him about what happened and he— and he told me that I had to find you and thank God I fuckin’ came when I did, I can’t even think what might have happened if—if I—”

Jason seemed to think better of his ramblings, shaking his head, and straightening up, as if physically reminding himself to be the strong one here.

“I’m so sorry if I scared you, sweetheart,” Jason apologized and you raised an eyebrow at his fears. Scare you? How could he think that he scared you?! He fucking saved you, he—if it wasn’t for him, you might not even be here right now. “But—fuck, the thought of anybody hurtin’ you, of puttin’ their damn hands on you in that kind of way, it—well, it, it makes me—”

Jason seemed at a loss for words, and you could see the anger burning in his eyes, his hands shaking as he thought about just what had almost happened to you. You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his shaking hands.

“Angry?” You supplied, and Jason looked at you so intensely that your legs nearly buckled when he did so.

“No,” he insisted, pulling you closer and winding his fingers through your hair, as if he were afraid to let you go. “No, the way I feel about that fuckin’ prick— angry is too damn nice of a word.”

It was hard to deny the swirling emotions in your chest at this moment, the things that you were feeling for Jason—but you didn’t want to say them, didn’t want to give them a voice, because the second that you did? It became real, and real was scary. Real could end. Real could be rejected. Real could not go the way that you wanted it to, at all.

So instead, you drew yourself back into his chest, your arms winding around his waist and his eagerly returning your embrace. You buried your head into his chest, breathing in his scent, holding him close and tight so you didn’t have to see his face when you spoke the next words you planned to say.

“You could never scare me, Jason, you—you saved me,” you reassured him, pressing a small kiss to his pecs and pushing the way that that felt to the back of your mind for later. “You’re always…always saving me.”

Jason was quiet for a while, standing there in the middle of the parking lot stroking your hair. You wondered for a long moment if he hadn’t heard you, if you should say what you’d said again, but after a moment, Jason sighed.

“I ain’t ever gonna leave you, you know that right?” Jason promised softly, and you shut your eyes tight against the tears that threatened to spill out from them. “You’re never gonna have to deal with this again by yourself, alright? Ain’t no one ever gonna hurt you, ever again. You’re safe with me.”

And that was the first time—but certainly not the last—that you broke down in wretching, painful sobs in front of Jason Kolchek.

* * * * *

One week.

One.

That’s how long you and Jason had been holed up in your apartment, taking a much-needed society break after what had happened with Dylan. The police had updated you—he’d left town, Jason had apparently spooked him pretty well—and he was never going to bug you again. Not as long as he thought Jason was around, at least, and you were certain now that you would truly never hear from that toxic piece of shit ever again.

Jason had moved, officially, into your room—you could no longer sleep alone, and it was easier this way, anyways— and the two of you had slipped into somewhat of a semi-real, semi-fake relationship. You cuddled, you held hands, you joked, you tickled, you teased—but you didn’t kiss. Neither one of you seemed to figure out when, or if, you could cross that line and so you just hadn’t. You weren’t even certain that Jason felt the same way about you that you did about him, but you were certain that he cared about you. You only hoped that it was in the way you wanted him to, you hoped that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

For now, you were content with the way that it was. Living in your own tiny little bubble for a week, pretending that the outside world just simply didn’t exist.

Of course, that could never last.

The morning of your seventh day of hiding out, there was a harsh knocking on the door. You and Jason had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and he was telling you the most bizarre story about a day on a farm and you were laughing, happy, when it happened. Jason had seen the way that you seized up, the fear obvious in your eyes, and he’d frowned, jumping up out of bed and hurrying to the door to vet whoever decided to come by today without calling first—a rule you’d made everyone who came regularly abide by now.

You had sat up in bed, tense, and you were listening more intently than you ever had in your entire life, trying to piece out who was at the front door. You heard Jason open the door, and then there was a strange silence. Until:

“Get out. Now.” Jason’s warning and the dark tone in his voice made you jump out of bed, scurrying to throw on a hoodie over the tank top you were wearing as you headed out of your room.

“No, please—I need to talk to Y/n, please. I’m her friend—just stay out of it and let me talk to her!” Chrissy sounded so desperate that it actually made you pause for just a second in the hallway.

You had told Jason everything, of course. Everything that Dylan had done to you—that night and in your previous relationship. You told him that Chrissy knew about it. That even though she knew what he’d done to you, she still gave him your location.

Needless to say, Jason wasn’t exactly a fan of hers before—but he absolutely despised Chrissy now.

“She doesn’t wanna talk to you,” Jason hissed back, and as you rounded the corner, you could see that he was blocking her from coming down the hallway. Your blonde friend—ex-friend—had tears streaming down her cheeks and she looked ready to punch your boyfriend—fake boyfriend?---in the face. “And she sure as hell shouldn’t have to, so, get the fuck out of our house, now.”

You turned around to go back to your room—Jason was right, you didn’t want to speak to Chrissy—but she caught sight of you before you could disappear, her big eyes wide and hopeful.

“Y/n!” She called out and you froze where you stood, hands crossed over your chest and already starting to feel the sting of hurt tears at the corner of your eyes. You locked eyes with Jason and you could see the tension rolling off of him, likely wondering if this was going to send you into a spiral again. Wondering what he could do to save you from this hurt.

But that’s the thing; he couldn’t. Nobody can save anybody else from hurting, because pain is inevitable.

“What—” Fuck, your voice was so cracked and teary already. You shook your head and wiped the tears that had already fallen down your cheeks, but realized that there was nothing you could do about it. You were crying, she had made you cry, and now she had to deal with the consequences of her own actions. “Chrissy, what are you doing here?”

“I got a call from Dylan—at the hospital!” She said it like an accusation, like—like you were the one in the wrong. You felt your lips quivering and Jason backed out from between the two of you, choosing to stand to the side and lean against the wall. Close by, in case you needed him, but not overriding your own decision to speak or not speak to Chrissy. “He told me that your boyfriend—” She stopped mid-sentence to shoot a disgusted glare at Jason, who didn’t even flinch— “Beat the shit out of him and put him in the hospital!”

You already knew that that wasn’t true—the police had said no damage was actually done to your asshole of an ex-boyfriend, unfortunately—so you knew that he must have gone to the hospital himself, made a pathetic sob story, and then tried to sell it to your ex-friend.

The thing was, you really didn’t care to correct her anymore. All you wanted at this point was some sort of closure, and you weren’t even sure that that was such a good idea, anyways.

“Why the hell did you tell Dylan where I was?” You accused instead, ignoring her false accusations, and your voice was beginning to be high-pitched and hysterical, your emotions practically pouring out of you. “You know—you know—what he did to me!”

Chrissy stepped closer to you and Jason flinched, but didn’t move, watching her like a hawk as he trusted you to make your own decisions. Still, he fixed a nasty glare on Chrissy as he watched her, clearly his hate for her no longer being concealed on your account. Not that you could give a fuck, anymore.

“I just thought—well, you and Dylan were so good together,” Chrissy excused, and you scoffed, your eyes widening because you couldn’t believe the shit coming out of her mouth. She thought you were good together?! You and the man who beat you? “You’ve always been so overdramatic about everything, Y/n, that I thought you’d just overexaggerated some things about your relationship. Dylan was always so nice—there was no way he actually ever hit you, he loved you!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You screamed back, and you knew that the neighbors could probably hear you but you couldn’t really give a shit right now. “Chrissy—you’ve seen him backhand me! You came to the hospital when I had—” You choked out a sob and Jason rushed to you, rubbing your arms comfortingly, his eyes pleading for you to let him handle this. “When I had broken ribs, and a swollen, bruised face and—what the fuck did you think, that I did that to myself?”

Chrissy seemed at a loss for words and, to her very small credit, did actually look a little bit guilty. “I don’t—I don’t know how you got there—”

“No, Chrissy, are you fucking kidding me?” You continued on, your rage beginning to build as you pushed past Jason, staring the person who you could finally see as your bully in the face and defending yourself. “You actually think that I would lie about something like that? You think that that’s the kind of person that I am?”

Chrissy’s nostrils flared and you could tell that you had hit a nerve. “Don’t act like you’re so much better than me, you bitch—”

“Alright, that’s it,” Jason jumped in, pushing himself from off of the wall and stepping in between you and Chrissy. “You’re makin’ my girlfriend upset, and you need to leave. Now.”

“No, none of this would be happening if she would have just heard Dylan out,” Chrissy argued and you turned away from her, hiding your face and your tears. She didn’t deserve them anymore. “He loves her, they were good together—”

“Shut up!” Jason ordered, and the command was so loud and so shocking that Chrissy backed away, eyes wide and appalled. Evidently, no one had ever told her to ‘shut up’ before in her entire life. “You have no right,” Jason continued lowly, his protective stance in front of you becoming even more rigid. “Absolutely no right to be here and say anythin’ to Y/n, ever again. You are not only a horrible friend but you are a horrible person. You brought a man back into her life who abused her—who almost killed her, twice—and that’s not even mentionin’ all of the shitty stuff you’ve done just since I’ve been with Y/n! No, you are the worst person I have ever met, and I refuse to let you put Y/n in any more danger. Get out, and don’t came back! I mean it!”

Chrissy looked close to tears, but she didn’t say anything to Jason. Instead, she peered around him and stared at you, her blue eyes filled with unshed tears as she said, “Seriously, Y/n? Are you seriously going to let this guy that you’ve barely known for a few months talk to me, your best friend, this way?!”

Your heart hurt—it hurt, it hurt so fucking bad—but none of this was your fault and you could finally see that.

You said nothing.

Chrissy scoffed, backing away from both you and Jason, shaking her head. Suddenly, her sad, betrayed look turned into a fierce, dangerous look of anger. One you’d seen her wear before to people she truly hated, people whose lives she made miserable.

Suddenly, you were terrified. Of her. Of whatyou knew that she could do and say about you.

“You’re going to wish you never let him say those awful things to me,” Chrissy warned lowly, halfway out the front door now. “Because I’m going to ruin you, Y/n. You’ll have nothing. You might want to start looking at switching schools now because I promise you—you will never get another show again. I’m going to destroy your fucking career, you nasty bitch!”

And with that sweet farewell, Chrissy left with the slam of your front door, leaving you breathless and petrified. She didn’t even give you the pleasure of having the last word.

You were shaking, and you leaned against the wall for support, every single thing Chrissy could do to you running through your mind. She would probably spread lies about you on campus, get you kicked out of the theatre program, make sure you could never get a spot again. But could it really be that easy for her? And was there anything that you could do? Could you—could you get the jump on her? Call the police? Could the police even do anything about this?

Fuck, you were spiraling now, and you didn’t even know what you could do about it. You didn’t have the necessary tools to deal with this and you didn’t even know how to deal with this right now, after everything that had happened. Your mental space was ridiculously fragile after the past week, and you really weren’t sure that it could handle another hit. Not right now.

“Y/n, are you—are you alright?” Jason had come up behind you comfortingly and you whirled around on him, vibrating with anxiety, your eyes shaky and afraid.

“Why would you say those things to her?” You questioned, your words coming out far more angry than you’d intended for them to. Jason looked taken aback and he shook his head, gesturing vaguely towards you and the closed door, as if he were confused about your reaction to the situation.

“Are you seriously mad at me, right now?!” Jason shot back at you, shaking his head when you failed to respond. “‘Why did I say those things’—fuck, well they’re fuckin’ true, aren’t they?”

“It doesn’t matter if they’re true,” you argued, grasping onto the hem of his shirt for comfort anyways. “She was my only friend!”

“Yeah, well, with friends like hers, you don’t need any fuckin’ enemies!” Jason responded and you shook your head, knowing he was right, but somehow still unable to calm yourself down enough to speak some sense.

“Nice, Jason, how cliche of you,” you replied instead, knowing that you were the one being immature and crazy right now, but unaware of how to stop yourself from panicking and spiraling even further.

“I really have no fuckin’ clue why you’re so pissed at me right now!” Jason continued, without any anger or malice, and only confusion. “Why are you pissed at me for standing up to somebody who literally tried to physically harm you?!”

“I’m mad because Chrissy is entirely unpredictable, Jason!” You screeched, and you knew that at this point, you were only letting your panic get the best of you and that Jason had done nothing wrong. But you needed to get it out. You needed to scream, if only for five minutes. It was the one thing that you felt like you could control. “And that’s her when she isn’t pissed off, and now she is pissed off, so forgive me if I’m fucking terrified and now you made things even worse!”

“I know you’re only lashin’ out cause you’re scared and you’re stressed,” Jason correctly analyzed, and the fact that he had you figured out so well only pissed you off even more. “It’s a damn good thing you’re cute when you’re angry.”

“Oh, you think I’m cute when I’m angry?!” You shrieked, chasing Jason into the kitchen and pulling his shirt so he looked back at you. He did, his face exasperated but slightly amused. “Well buckle up, Jason, because I’m about to get really fucking gorgeous!”

“Give me a damn break, Y/n—you know what she did was wrong, and me comin’ to your rescue did you a favor,” Jason asserted and you huffed out angrily, knowing full well that he was right but still irked by the fact that he thought he should be some sort of savior for you right now.

“For the love, Jason, you’re so ridiculously cocky!” You growled back at him, and you’d advanced on him so much that you had him pinned against your kitchen counter, both of your arms crowding him in as you clutched onto the counter with both hands on either side of him.

“I’m not cocky!” Jason insisted. “I’m tryin’ to help you!” He was clearly a little bit irritated now, and he leaned his face down to level with yours. His eyes were wide and annoyed, but he was keeping his cool, knowing that you needed to lash out at him until your emotions levelled out. Letting you be mad at him, as irrational as it was, because he knew that you needed to yell at somebody right now.

“Fuck—why, Jason?!” You screeched back, pushing off from the kitchen counter and throwing your hands up above your headin exasperation. “Why do you even care? Why do you stand up to my mom, and to Chrissy, and fight my battles and try to protect me like I’m just some—”

“BECAUSE I’M FUCKIN’ IN LOVE WITH YOU, Y/N!”

Your body froze mid-fight, mid-argument, and your mouth dropped wide open as you stared back at your…your…

What?

You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard, what Jason had just said. And the weirdest part was—he’d meant it. You could see it in his eyes, right now, the adoration he was looking at you with—the small, relieved smile that was beginning to form on his face as he pushed himself off of the kitchen counter, walking towards you confidently.

“I—” You couldn’t seem to form any other words through how hard your heart was pounding right now, couldn’t seem to think past the storm of conflicting emotions bubbling inside of your chest. “Sorry—what?”

“Yeah, you heard me,” Jason responded optimistically, as if it were as easy to him as breathing. “I’m in love with you. I love you.” And then, without a second thought, he’d grabbed you by the waist and pulled you tightly into him, his lips covering yours anxiously—like he’d been waiting to do just that for months.

Unbeknownst to you, he had.

You responded in kind, reaching up to wind your fingers in his hair and hold his head close to yours, begging every deity that you could think of that he wouldn’t change his mind and pull away. That this was real, that this was happening.

Your fears were unfounded, because Jason instantly shoved your body up against the wall, his hands that were previously planted on your waist moving their way up your body, one inching underneath your hoodie and your tank top, caressing the skin tenderly underneath, whilst the other planted itself to the back of your head as he kissed you harder. You responded instantly by lifting your leg, hooking it around his hips as you shoved pelvis against pelvis, relishing in the moan that Jason let out into your mouth via his kisses.

He changed directions, his hand that was caressing your stomach quickly falling down to your ass, gripping it tightly in the palm of his hand as he felt it up. The action felt so damn good that you whimpered into his mouth and he smirked, using the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth eagerly and you followed suit, the two of you locked in a battle for dominance. You used your leverage to hop up, winding both legs around his waist and Jason quickly caught you, wrapping his arms around your bottom and tilting his head to deepen your kiss.

Your feelings for him were at an all time high, and you could no longer deny how you felt about him. Why should you? He had told you he loved you, and what was stopping the two of you from doing whatever the fuck you wanted now? Heaven knows you loved hi—

A large, loud crash emanating from your bedroom is what ultimately broke the two of you apart, both of you staring at each other with wide, terrified eyes. You slipped out of Jason’s hold and grasped onto his hand as you both looked warily down at the room.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and you were shaking again, but Jason’s grip held you tight, making you feel safe. “Do you think it’s—”

“No, that bastard would be a motherfuckin’ idiot to come back here,” Jason reassured you and you nodded, clutching tightly to his hand as the two of you walked slowly back to the bedroom. It was a relatively small apartment, so only a couple of more steps would get you to the bedroom, but Jason still looked back at you, gesturing for you to stay quiet. You nodded again and the two of you rounded the corner, peering into the seemingly empty room.

There was a mess in the middle of it now; your trophies and books scattered onto the floor as something had, apparently, collided with your bookshelf. It wasn’t until your eyes wandered down to the floor that you saw him sitting there—brown eyes wide and confused, clad in his military uniform, his signature bucket hat fixed to his head. You gasped, recognizing him instantly, and turned back to Jason—who adorned the same look you were sure was also atop your own face.

“Nicky?”

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denimbex1986 · 1 year

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'J Robert Oppenheimer, the physicist who inspired the recently released Christopher Nolan biopic Oppenheimer, was Jewish. Although he did his best to assimilate, he was fundamentally and thoroughly of the tribe. Cillian Murphy, as you might ascertain from his name, is not.

Murphy has won acclaim from critics and the public for his portrayal of the tortured scientist behind the atomic bomb since the film’s release last week.

While many people probably don’t care about Oppenheimer’s faith or indeed Murphy’s, as with so many things, the Jewish community is split over the perennial issue of “jewface.” At its most simple, this is the idea is that the Jewish experience is something unique and that Jewish actors should always be favoured for roles where the character is Jewish.

The debate has taken many iterations over the years, notably last year when Dame Maureen Lipman questioned whether Dame Helen Mirren could do justice to the role of Golda Meir, Israel’s first female prime minister.

In his oft-cited book and subsequent documentary, both entitled Jews Don’t Count, David Baddiel makes the argument that if any other minority’s characters were given to people not of that ethnic background there would be outrage and an almost guaranteed cancellation. He’s right: thankfully the use of blackface and yellowface have been drummed out of polite society.

This is where I depart from the jewface school of thought. Where some would argue that to have a Cillian play an Oppenheimer or a Mirren play a Meir is to diminish their Judaism, I’m more open-minded. To state the obvious point, acting is acting. Actors like Mirren and Murphy take their craft seriously, to often incredibly moving results, and they are more than capable of inhabiting the minds and bodies of historic figures and doing them justice – not to mention producing films that stand on their own purely from an artistic perspective.

Secondly, as long as the writing and direction of the story mentions their Judaism if and when it’s relevant (as Oppenheimer does) then why does it matter who takes the role? To people like Baddiel, Jews in Hollywood are Schrodinger’s Jews, simultaneously different and unique and also able to play any non-Jew they want to, both assimilated and not. Either we are part of the mainstream or we’re not.

To play devil’s advocate, should there not be Italian voices trying to say that the Jewish James Caan should not have played Sonny Corleone? Should Paul Newman have only been in Exodus and no other films? Frankly it’s a position that doesn’t hold up to the slightest bit of scrutiny.

It’s especially ludicrous when you consider how most Jews would not know or care that Jason Biggs, whose portrait of American suburban Jewish neurotic made American Pie, is not Jewish. That Rachel Sennott, who stole the show in the achingly Jewish angst drama Shiva Baby, is Catholic and Italian. Who cares that Meg Ryan’s pitch perfect channelling of Nora Ephron’s anxieties was performed by a very gentile gentile.

With the right scripts, actors can and should be allowed to portray Jewish stories.

I don’t want to live in a world where Jews are giving ourselves another reason to be othered, to insultingly say that being ethnically Jewish, even tenuously, is a better qualification for a role than whether you can act well.

There is an important conversation to have about stereotypes about Jews, about the way that Jewish characters are written and the way Jewish stories are told. But actors are often at the blunt end of a writer’s words, doing their best to portray a character from the script that’s placed in front of them. The decisions that actually matter about how Jews are represented are made long before people show up on set.

Historically, Jews have assimilated into tolerant societies by rejecting diktats and quotas, and embracing the open-mindedness necessary to make great art. I don’t like it when people perform Jews badly, but the alternative proposed by critics like Baddiel is not the answer.

To insist on this form of token representation is a very clunky and indelicate way of seeing the world. It’s reductive and patronising and culturally naive, and worse: it will lead us to bad films.'

#Oppenheimer #Christopher Nolan #Cillian Murphy #Jews Don't Count #David Baddiel #Maureen Lipman #Dame Helen Mirren #Golda Meir #James Caen #Sonny Corleone

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medusas-stylist · 3 years

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No Nuance November, the sequel:

because there is no way in hell i am getting this out before midnight so let’s pretend i live in cali

Athena is racist, stop giving her poc children

So much sex happens at camp. Stop acting like it doesn’t.

On top of that, camp isn’t band camp. It’s a 24/7 training facility for teenagers. People have literally died in the practice arena.

Percy can’t make friends to save his life. He isn’t friends with people at CHB he’s just their leader.

Annabeth does not struggle in school, she struggles to stay in school

Percy and Jason were at odds with each other more than they were friends with each other

Percy became praetor at CJ without having made more than two friends there. Once again, he can’t make friends he’s just their leader

Centaurs can get drunk off of root beer. How.

Chiron raped girls back in the day why does he care about teenagers doing the dirty.

In ancient Greece, (around) 12 was the age of sexual maturity (go see the Hymn to Demeter, Persephone is like 12 there). In ancient Greece, satyrs were symbols of sexual promiscuity (and rape; trust me, go look up the term ‘ithyphallic’). To the ancient Greeks (you know, the people whose stories Rick based his entire work around) demigods “finding out” they’re demigods (you know, maturing) at age 12 and being found by a satyr (bringing them to a centaur just to make it all worse)… well hopefully you can do the math.

Also, by the way, the ancient Greeks weren’t gay. They also weren’t straight. They also weren’t bi. Please don’t headcanon rapey gods as LGBTQ heroes please and thank you. If you want to do that go use Kevin Spacey.

Okay, back to PJO. Piper is a canonical “I’m not like other girls” girl from 2010. She’s a pick me girl.

Leo hides his pain behind toxic masculinity and incel-ism.

Frank is

Hazel is

Just kidding you can’t say anything bad about Hazel and Frank

Frank shouldn’t have become buff. It’s a poorly adapted mythological trope. It’s also fat shaming.

Hazel is black and it doesn’t matter what tone her skin is. Also her hair is black. Her eyes are brown. No more of this fucking gold shit.

Should I keep going?

Fuck it yeah.

Jason is Madison Cawthorn (I got kicked out of a discord server for saying this but we all know it’s true)

Why was Reyna so love-focused. Why.

Annabeth is very social. She’s been at camp since she was 7 the girl has connections

Everyone forgets that as much as Percy would die for Annabeth, she’s proven she’d die for him too.

If Demigods were designed by the gods to be perfect soldiers they shouldn’t have PTSD.

So why is Nico the only character with PTSD.

Why is everyone worshipping a relationship of two 13 year olds with like two lines of dialogue.

Did I fail to mention that NICO IS THIRTEEN AT THE END OF HOO??? THIRTEEN???

I’m calling the FBI on y’all.

Like actually please stop fetishizing a thirteen year old gay boy. It’s kinda gross. Also on that same note Hazel is 13 too. 16/17 yo Percy and Annabeth is enough of an issue.

Poseidon and Percy barely interact. Percy isn’t going on a fucking vacation to Atlantis.

On top of that, the gods don’t care about their children unless something really terrible is happening to them. None of them are good parents stop trying to force them into being that.

New Rome is dumb. Cut New Rome out of your own canons. #nonewrome and I will not explain myself.

Percy and Annabeth are not going to the same school.

Also what is it with slow burn senior year fanfictions where they get together right before they go across the country to separate schools? Just make it happen in Junior year.

Frank is the himbo, not Percy

A ‘swimmer’s body’ doesn’t mean what you all think it means.

All the demigods are like superhuman athletes but that doesn’t mean they have to be shredded. Abs ≠ performance.

Wow I’m on 49? Okay a few more and I stop.

Percy should not trust Paul until after TLO.

Percy doesn’t want to be a hero. He’s like Spiderman. He just wants to live a normal life. dark!Percy is hot and all but it ain’t who Percy wants to be

Luke should have waited in his reveal. He could have groomed Percy into joining him.

The demigods on Kronos’ side are literally terrified of Percy to the point of nightmares.

Percy killed demigods in the Battle of Manhattan.

My final hot take: Annabeth didn’t not join Kronos because Kronos was evil. She wanted to achieve the vision she had with the Sirens, but she knew that she’d have no control over creating that vision with Kronos. For clarity: If Kronos had convinced Annabeth she could create the Sirens’ vision, she would have joined him. He and Luke just failed to make their case.

#pjo #no nuance november #but late #percy jackson #annabeth chase #frank zhang #hazel levesque #piper mclean #jason grace #leo valdez #nico di angelo #will solace #hot takes #hoo #dark!percy

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secondratefiction · 4 years

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An AU where the batkids are closer in age and all go to gotham academy... chaos ensues, because these boys are chaotic good, and the girls are true good

The principal has Bruce Wayne’s personal cell on speed dial.

Not that it does much good, he lives in a house with six high schoolers and one very temperamental middle schooler. Bruce Wayne lost his ability to give a fuck about anything years ago.

Barbra isn’t even his kid, why is he getting calls about her too?’

“I’m sorry to hear that a seventeen year old girl managed to hack your entire system, sir. I still don’t understand what that has to do with me. Perhaps you should try to contact Commissioner Gordon.”

The others on the other hand... those he can’t pawn off on anybody else.

“It’s been twelve years, at this point there should be some kind of note in his file that Dick is going to fidget and sit in strange positions, it’s just something he does... No, I am no considering any medications for him. Or any of my children for that matter.”

“I’m sorry, Jason did what now? No, no I’ll definitely speak with him about this. Thank you Principal Weatherby.” - “Jason... Jason I don’t care if your teacher is ‘willfully misinterpreting’ the book, you can’t call him incompliant and storm out of class.... because you’re in high school and that’s not how that works. Just.... just come home, please.”

“So let me make sure I understand you correctly... this boy repeatedly snapped my daughter’s bra strap - to the point said strap came undone. At which point she punched him in the face. And you want to take disciplinary action against her? Very well, go right ahead. I'm going to need a copy of the referral though, because we’ll be filing sexual assault charges. Thank you. Stephanie, let’s go,”

“Principal Weatherby... I know people think I’m just some rich trust fund baby or what have you, with nothing better to do with my day, but I assure you, I am quite a busy man. So can you please explain to me why my meetings get continually interrupted with complains about Tim sleeping in class? Is he not still one of the top performers? Then I don’t see the issue. If he’s not actively causing a problem, and his grades aren’t being effected do not call me about this again. If you’ll excuse me, I have a business to run.”

“I’m sorry Principal Weatherby, what exactly would you like me to do in this situation? I can’t physically force Cassandra to speak. Also, I don’t have the paperwork in front of me... but I’m pretty sure she’s allowed to sign her presentation, and that not providing her an interpreter is actually illegal.... No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you for taking care of the matter, please let me know if there is anything else I can do to help resolve the satiation.”

“One moment, let me clarify something - we’re talking about Duke Thomas? Punching another student in the cafeteria? Is there more context to this situation? . . . Ah, and was the boy harassing Cassandra the same one that Stephanie had the issue with last month? I see. Well, Principal Weatherby, I’ll speak with Duke this evening, but you may want to look into this other student before the school really does get hit with some kind of lawsuit over his behavior.” - “That dumb bastard doesn’t know how lucky he was Duke hit him before Cassie could.”

“Damian said what exactly?. . . Yes, well I can see where that would be highly inappropriate. . . . I’m terribly sorry, Principal Weatherby, but I’m about to step into a very important meeting. But this is his mother’s number, I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to help you resolve the situation.” - “Best of luck. You’re gonna need it.”

#batman #batfam #bruce wayne #barbra gordon #dick grayson #jason todd #stephanie brown #tim drake #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #batman au #dc comics #requests #bruce wayne is a good dad #let batman be batdad #anythinggoesfandoms

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mindibindi · 3 years

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Beyond disappointed in Ted Lasso. What were they thinking?!

The writing is a complete betrayal and insult to Rebecca’s character and Hannah’s skills as they’re being seriously underused. It’s also insulting Sam’s character.

Hoping someone pulls Rebecca’s head out of her ass tbh. Sam shouldn’t be getting caught in the crossfire of her looking for romance. I know he showed up at her doorstep but she still should’ve turned him away, and not even messaged him in the first place.

Hey, I'm with you, Anon, though we do seem to be in the minority. Sam is definitely not blameless here, he is also in the wrong. But if one of them is more in the wrong, it is Rebecca. I can't speak to whether her head has left her arse as yet because I have quit watching (at least for now). I hear she called it off with Sam in the most recent ep, though not because of any major crisis of conscience or because anyone in her inner circle expressed any reasonable reservations in response to her bad behaviour. And to be honest, I'm not sure we should need to hope and pray that Rebecca's precocious god-daughter, her slimy ex-husband, or the brutal British press will act as a moral compass on this ill-advised relationship. Both Rupert and the press have been set up to some extent as the villains of the piece. And a 14 year old should never have to school her elders on what is and isn't acceptable. Nora's needs have already been neglected by Rebecca for far too long.

If a moral position is to be taken on this, it needs to be taken by the show (because stance matters) and/or by its characters. But the show has for the most part depicted this relationship as ill-advised but ultimately hot, sweet, funny and romantic. As for the characters themselves, Sam has shown at least once that he has some moral backbone but seems to be adorably clueless when it comes to fucking his boss who keeps trying to set boundaries with him. Meanwhile, Rebecca's whole arc in s1 was about learning not to misuse her power for her own selfish ends. In season one, she misused her power within the club in order to exact revenge. In season 2, we have seen her misuse her sexual power, though I still cannot see to what end. I'm a bit at a loss as to what exactly she gets out of this 'relationship' but then I'm a grown woman so I have absolutely no interest in sleeping with a Harry Potter enthusiast barely out of his teens. I couldn't think of anything less sexy and more ick. I was certainly hoping for better character development for her this season.

As to what the writers were thinking, obviously I was not in the writer's room, but I would guess that they were thinking that any drama is good drama, people are stupid and fan devotion will trump any meaningful critique. In other words, they were thinking exactly how every other television writer thinks, despite the fact that this show posited itself as 'not like other TV shows'. This, to me, is where the blame really lies. Not with the characters or with the actors who are doing their best to sell this ludicrous turn of events. It must be noted, however, that both actors were completely blindsided by this relationship that had supposedly been so cleverly foreshadowed. Newsflash: if the people actually living these stories did not see this coming then you haven't foreshadowed shit. Sure, there were a handful of people that paired Rebecca with Sam but this does not constitute proof either. Fans have free-range to imagine and re-imagine characters. In some cases this may extend to imagining relationships between characters who have barely, if ever, interacted. There may be little to no evidence that these characters have even clocked each other's existence and some fans will still ship it. The existence of a handful of shippers does not legitimise such a problematic and divisive plotline making it onscreen.

But wait!, you might argue, this may not be a case of a popular show seeing just how far they can stretch fan devotion. This may not be a case of fan service to a handful of shippers. After all, the creators mapped out the entire three-season arc of Ted Lasso before they even pitched it to Apple. This was their brilliant plan all along! To which I would say: then maybe they should've rethought their second act based on people's strong reactions to their first. Ted Lasso was touted as the show we all needed in 2020. The writers and creators have all marveled at the chord it struck considering it was conceived prior to the pandemic and all the chaos it wrought. And while there is something to be said for having/sticking to a creative vision, there is also something to be said for being flexible and responsive to your audience and the cultural zeitgeist with which you're engaged. Season 1 of Ted Lasso told its story so gently, without creating distrust, division or unnecessary anxiety. It did not treat its audience like a gaggle of stupid lemmings to be led over a succession of narrative cliffs. THIS is what I mean when I say the show has broken with its brand. And look, this whole dark forest thing would be okay if the narrative arc was as well-crafted as s1. Season 1 gave us meaning, cohesion, comfort, sense in a senseless time. It was an almost perfectly crafted season of television. And I kept the faith for 6 episodes, despite the first half of s2 being pretty damn wobbly. But the follow-up to this stellar debut has been less than extraordinary so yeah, perhaps they should've thought a little harder about what made s1 so special before throwing it all out the window.

But wait!, I hear the faithful say, you don't know how things will pan out yet! Wait until the season is over and everything will make sense! But -- wearily and once again, I say -- we should not need to wait until the end of the season to understand what the hell is happening. By this point (over halfway through the season and show) we should have a v clear idea of the show's themes and the characters' arcs. And tbf, from what I can tell there are some fab things happening in other aspects of the show that I wish I could watch and enjoy. But my biggest fear at this point is that they are going to use Sam to solve Rebecca's childlessness. That, like Rupert (because the parallel cannot be avoided), she will become pregnant with a young fling and the show's attitude to this relationship will ultimately be: oh well, it was a bad idea and didn't work out for them but it was all for the best in the end cos who can be mad about a cute lil baaaayyybbbeeee??!! If they do go down this path then I will definitely be abstaining from the rest of the show. I will simply recall my repeated viewings of s1 with fondness tinged with regret at just how badly they fucked up a good thing.

Ultimately, Anon, I think this may be a case of there simply not being a diverse enough perspective in the writer's room. I am not saying that every single woman or every single person of colour will necessarily object to this relationship. I am simply saying that women and people of colour will be more sensitive to the issues of gender and race that are relevant here but that have not been fully or sensitively acknowledged in the writing of this plotline. Neither am I saying that Rebecca is the first woman to sleep with a man much (much, much, MUCH) younger than herself or indulge in an ill-advised relationship. But the comparison with Rupert both works here and doesn't because Rebecca is not being written like a white woman, she is being written like a white man. Realistically, only a white man can engage in this kind of hugely imbalanced relationship seemingly without any major moral qualms or societal ramifications. Not to put too fine a point on it, but this kind of relationship is reserved for all the Bills and Joes and Brendans and Jasons out there -- not for the Rebeccas and definitely not for the Sams. We are way beyond the point in feminism where we believe that liberation is simply the right for a white woman to behave as badly as a white man. The truth is that whatever wealth, power and privilege Rebecca has, the rules are different for men and women. She will not be treated the same as Rupert if and when this affair is uncovered. She will be treated far more savagely than Rupert ever was and Sam will be treated far more savagely than Bex was. This is not an argument for the equal treatment of these two relationships. It is an argument against how the relationship between Rebecca and Sam has been envisaged, i.e. through the wrong perspective. In writing from a 'neutral' white male pov, the show has invisiblised all the many issues activated by this storyline and revealed a blindspot that was always there.

As much as I loved and still love season 1 of this show, it has definite blindspots when it comes to representations of race and gender. There are at least two moments in s1 that stand out for me as being so obviously written by a man. Not necessarily because of what they do but because of what they don't do: what is missed, absent, unacknowledged. I was willing to overlook such minor failings in a debut season for many reasons. But s2 seems to have exacerbated these minor flaws rather than correcting them. And here I can't help thinking of Tina Fey speaking of the diversification of the writer's room at SNL during her tenure as co-headwriter. This notoriously male-dominated environment only began to shift and produce better work when a greater diversity of minds, voices and persepectives was allowed in the room. In this richer environment, she notes, different jokes played differently. Different sketches made it to air. Different perspectives were represented and different performers were celebrated. I can't help wondering if this plotline would have made it to air if there had been a female writer, a writer of colour or both further up the chain of command to challenge the ideas of the straight white dudes in charge.

One of the reasons I didn't think Ted Lasso was for me was that it centred a straight, white, cis-het, able-bodied man who rose to a position he didn't earn. That is just not a pov I would normally choose for myself, especially now that there is such a rich array of alternative perspectives through which to view the world. But I think the show won a lot of females fans with its first season largely due to its portrayal of Rebecca. She is the first person we meet. She is arguably the protagonist of s1. And while she would have been figured as a villain in previous pieces, the show never took that stance with her (because again, stance matters). Other elements like the depiction of female friendships, all centred around Rebecca, made this show female-friendly viewing. But imo, the major reason this show won over female fans (this one, at least) is because, in this post-MeToo, post-TimesUp era, it stood up and said: domestic violence is not okay, we stand with women and all victims of abuse, we will defend you, we know words can hurt, we know it can happen to anyone, we know all about toxic masculinity, we do not take this lightly and we will support you in your healing. Needless to say, this is how women hope men will act when they speak of their most difficult experiences but it is not how they always do.

The shift away from Rebecca this season has however meant that the white male experience is more centred than it was in s1. Rebecca's journey to recovery, health and happiness has been trivialised and sidelined, reduced to a highly questionable sexcapade. Meanwhile, we get overwrought manpain at every turn. We get Beard wandering around London (no, I haven't seen it and no, I don't need to. We've all been raised on white dudes thinking they're genuises when they have a figurative wank all over our screens). We get NO queer represention at all. And the only other female characters on screen are in care/service roles to men. The father/son, mentoring and toxic masculinity themes are all still there but they're no longer balanced out by ANY other competing perspective. One of the reasons I was okay with Ted failing upwards in s1 was that he used his power and privilege to lift up others. He was the one in service. He used his enormous privilege for good, as anyone with such privilege must. (Admittedly, it could be argued that this is just another version of a white savior narrative).

My point here is that I'm not sure that peeking behind the mask at the sad clown is as revolutionary as some might believe. We love it because it's familiar. But this is a narrative with a long and problematic history. Do I believe in tearing down toxic masculinity in all its forms? You bet. Do I believe that patriarchy traumatises men as well as women and every other minority in existence? I mean...nowhere near as much, but absolutely. Do I believe in men expressing their feelings and going to therapy? Wholeheartedly. But I am also aware that 100 or so years ago, we were in a very similar place with our narratives. Everyone is looking for a recapitulation of modernism and frankly, this might be an indicator of just that. Whenever women and people of colour have demanded rights and recognition, there has always been a resurgence of tales about just how frickin' hard it is to be a white man. Minority genders and non-white people have never in western history been as visible or vocal as they are now. So forgive me (or don't, I don't care) if I critique a show not only for centering fathers, sons, boys and men but for blindly and boldly writing one of its only female characters and one of its only black characters as if their gender and race just do not exist. There are many other power differentials at play in this relationship, including age, experience, wealth and position, but race and gender are the two that patriarchy is most invested in invisiblising. So I don't care how brilliant they think they are, I will not trust the writing of a bunch of white dudes trying to tell me that race and gender are irrelevant.

#ted lasso #rebecca welton #sam obisanya #ask #yeah this one got out of hand

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tibby · 4 years

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If you have the time can you please please please recap season 4 of riverdale. I was going to binge it on Netflix but things happen and then I saw your post about the graduation episode and HAD to watch that happen and now I’m recommitted to the cause and need to know what happened while I was gone

sure. okay so the season sadly starts with the death of fred andrews in a very sentimental and moving episode that’s kind of seperate from the rest of the show so it’s not really until episode two that things kick off. the riverteens are kind of thriving in a parentless world because milf alice was kidnapped by a cult, dilf hiram and milf hermione are in prison, milf penelope is in hiding after killing a bunch of people, milf mary is kind of just There, milf gladys went back to toledo after her drug empire failed, god knows what milf sierra and gay kevin’s straight former cop dad are off doing, and dilf fp is the sheriff but because it’s fp he’s kind of bad at it. so the riverteens are horrified when their new principal mr honey expects them to be at school on time and disapproves of them throwing school dances because students keep getting murdered at them. cheryl, who an episode prior never wanted anyone in riverdale to celebrate the 4th of july ever again because of her brother’s death, considers this an act of oppression and throws a party at her house. however, as she is keeping her brother’s mummified corpse in the basement, she gets angry when reggie tries to sneak down there. meanwhile gay kevin is trying to make amends with betty for the time he tried to have her lobotomised because of the cult led by chad michael murray. betty uses this to her advantage to find out where the cult is, teaming up with her half brother, charles (not to be confused with chic, who was only PRETENDING to be charles back in season two). archie gets munroe, his prison buddy, to attend riverdale high, and reggie is weirdly jealous about it. archie discovers that this is because reggie is being abused by his father, so they smash in his car and apparently this solves everything. jughead starts attending stonewall prep, where he meets bret weston wallis, donna sweett, joan berkeley, and jonathan. he also reunites with moose, who disappeared in mid s3 after cheryl outed him to the whole school including his homophobic dad, and then his homophobic dad dressed up as the gargoyle to try and stop moose and gay kevin hooking up in the sex bunker they stole from dilton doiley after he killed himself, but it turns out that his homophobic dad was just angry HE never got to fuck gay kevin’s straight cop dad back in the day. it was this whole thing. anyway, moose is like “i’m going by my real name, marmaduke now, so people don’t find out about my dad” but everyone does anyway and so moose mysteriously disappears again. betty finds out where the cult is (after disarming a bomb attached to her sister polly using a bobby pin) and goes to rescue her mother. milf alice reveals that chad michael murray is using the cult money to build a rocket, and his wife/fake daughter evelyn is going to drive a bus full of cultists off a cliff. the day is saved! veronica finds out that her father’s real surname is luna and decides to start going by that as an act of rebellion because he keeps leaving the prison that he owns to fuck with her after she had him arrested. archie decides to turn his gym into a community centre with munroe’s help. cheryl, who, for unknown reasons, obtained custody of polly’s twins, immediately fires the nanny that toni hired because he said there were probably rats in the walls and went into the basement. cheryl goes to make sure that the nanny didn’t interfere with her brother’s mummified corpse, and toni walks in on her stitching him up. videotapes start arriving at the homes of the riverdale residents of said homes being filmed for hours. onto halloween! toni tells cheryl they can’t have a dead body in the horse and makes her rebury jason, at which point cheryl claims she is being haunted by a doll named julian, who is supposedly possessed by the spirit of her other brother that she ate in utero, but the haunting will stop if they unbury jason. toni agrees, but the doll continues to appear in weird places, and cheryl is forced to confess that while she WAS gaslighting her before, she isn’t right now. betty bonds with charles while receiving prank phone calls from polly, who is now in a mental institution. archie and munroe try to throw a halloween party at their community centre for the troubled youths but it’s interrupted by a drug dealing gang trying to start shit in the parking lot, thus giving archie a new enemy. reggie destroys mr honey’s office for the joke but mr honey catches him and is like “you do this because your dad hits you.” jughead uncovers mysteries surrounding strange disappearances of prep students known as “the stonewall four,” and donna drugs him so she and bretjoanjonathan can lock him in a coffin overnight as a bit. meanwhile, veronica burns a man alive in her basement. archie becomes a teen vigilante for the millionth time in the series, jughead and the other stonewall stags go into the running to be the ghostwriter for the baxter brothers franchise, veronica gets her mother out of prison but then finds out that her half sister, hermosa the PI, got their father out of prison, and he is now mayor again. betty and gay kevin start an fbi training course in which betty realises the serial killer gene is a real thing and she does have it, and remembers when she killed her childhood cat. jughead finds out that his grandfather who drunk himself to death but also abandoned fp but is also just some guy ACTUALLY wrote the baxter brothers franchise and is like “i have to reveal this!” so he takes it to his english teacher mr chipping but then mr chipping jumps out of a window before anything can come of it, and jughead is horrified when the stonewall stags have no reaction. cheryl is still convinced she is being haunted by a doll and things are further complicated when her extended family shows up. her uncle discovers jason’s body in the basement, threatens to send cheryl away, and is killed by toni. speaking of death, archie is still on his vigilante shit and asks hiram for help, at which point the near dead body of the gang leader, dodger shows up wrapped in carpet outside of the community centre. betty visits chic in prison to find out more about charles, and when chic threatens to reveal where milf alice buried the man she killed back in season two, charles and fp go to dig it up again and move it somewhere else. to get her family away from her and also in the spirit of thanksgiving, cheryl makes them think that they ate her uncle. dodger’s family show up at the community centre thanksgiving for revenge and there’s almost a shoot out, but thankfully the deep fryer explodes and chaos is avoided! milf mary later suggests the deep fryer exploding was archie’s dead dad’s ghost. betty and jughead spend the weekend at stonewall prep, where they play a homoerotic game of never have i ever with bret and donna. donna says that she and mr chipping were having an affair. now it’s time for the gang to go to therapy: archie gets diagnosed with gay but is also just suffering from an insane guilt complex, betty has mommy issues, veronica has daddy issues, cheryl is being gaslit but did NOT eat her brother in utero, jughead is just some guy. jughead finds out where his abusive alcoholic grandfather has been hiding out, and meanwhile his dad gets shot. veronica decides to fight back against her father by starting a rival rum business. polly rips off a nurse’s face and betty finds out that everyone in her family has a trigger word instilled in them by the cult, so she imagines herself going back in time to STOP her child self killing her cat to learn how to control it. cheryl uncovers her gaslighter by literally gassing her house, and it’s revealed that milf penelope was living in the walls and mad that cheryl had jason’s body. cheryl reburies jason and imprisons her mother in the sex bunker. archie’s uncle shows up, just in time for football season! the riverteens are playing stonewall prep, and reggie reveals that the preppies fight dirty, just in time for them to tonya harding munroe’s knees as he is their star player. archie’s uncle gives munroe steroids so he can play anyway, and riverdale loses but munroe gets a scholarship. cheryl feuds with her new cheerleading coach and locks her in her office so she has a panic attack. hiram threatens to sue veronica for stealing his rum recipe, so she teams up with cheryl (maple syrup queen) to create a new type. jughead joins the stonewall prep secret society, the quill and skull, and reveals that he watched a homeless man die. also, the cheerleading team performs cherry bomb. betty starts feuding with bret and decides to stand off against him in a quiz show, and although she wins, she is accused of cheating and is forced to give it up. she also wanted to use this to try and get into yale because apparently “cooper” is an uncommon name and people associate it with her serial killer father. veronica and cheryl enlist milf penelope and her former brothel in a hotel to run their underground rum dealership after hiram kept fucking shit up at veronica’s speakeasy. jughead is forced to come up with new stories for his baxter brother books, and so he writes about betty’s serial killer father (uh oh!) archie tries to restart his father’s construction company but his uncle’s shenanigans make it hard and gay kevin’s straight former cop dad has HAD IT. fangs is back from cult recovery, but gay kevin has gotten into non sexual tickle porn. toni and fangs get in on this they use this to blackmail nick st clair after he returns and understandably upsets cheryl, his would be rape victim. archie is attacked in the bathrooms at school because his uncle can’t mind his own business, but this plot was fucking boring so i don’t remember most of it. jughead and bret decided to duel, because of course, and betty uses this as a chance to investigate the preppies further. she finds out that bret films sex tapes and blackmailed moose with one, and also has one of her and jughead. she also finds a video suggesting donna lied about her affair with mr chipping. veronica goes to new york to visit katy keene, played by lucy hale of fantasy island fame, who tells her that her mother is dying. veronica returns home just in time to hear that hiram has a mysterious disease and decides to make amends. jughead is accused of plagiarism, meanwhile veronica realises her father thrives off war, and continues their rum battle. archie is now drinking at school and veronica accuses mr honey of being a fascist for having a problem with it. BUT. MOST IMPORTANTLY. ALL SEASON WE HAVE BEEN TEASED WITH DEADHEAD. AND IT IS FINALLY HAPPENING. IDES OF MARCH PARTY AT STONEWALL PREP. AND BETTY BASHES JUGHEAD’S HEAD IN WITH A ROCK. betty tries to prove that the stonewall stags did it instead but donna is an insane lesbian and thrives off gaslighting and fucking with her. because jughead died, betty gets his spot at yale. the core four are accused of murder but cleared of everything. jughead has a funeral, and bret’s attempt of proving jughead isn’t in the casket are thwarted by the sweet pea, the sweetest pea in the room. hiram shows up just to fire fp as sheriff. betty kisses archie to help with her grief, and veronica ends things with them both. but donna is not convinced, and goes around stalking betty, saying she watched her sex tape and knows that betty couldn’t last so long without sex with jughead. and she is right! because lo and behold, jughead is alive and hiding in the sex bunker, despite donna’s best attempts to catch them out. donna knows they’re up to something and implies she killed jonathan when bret doubts her. betty and archie are like “yeah we only dated for the bit :/” but their texting implies it was...more. betty and jughead return to stonewall and expose the preppies, but they decide not to interview jonathan because he “has food poisoning.” or he’s dead. their other teacher kills himself, and fp reunites with his abusive father. betty discovers that donna’s grandmother was one of the people killed for the rights to the baxter brothers/tracy true franchise, and the entire scheme was a complicated revenge plot by donna to get back at their teacher for killing her grandmother. betty blackmails her with this information so donna can’t have the tracy true contract, and everything is “wrapped up” just in time for gay kevin to announce he’s doing a variety show. gay kevin’s intentions of performing hedwig are destroyed when mr honey is like “no, this is inappropriate for high schoolers,” and so the riverteens decide to band together and have everyone perform hedwig songs as an act of protest. meanwhile, betty and jughead fight because jughead didn’t do his homework because he was too busy watching the stalker vhs tapes, and veronica and archie fight because he lied about her father working out at his gym, given that hiram has tried to kill him multiple times and doesn’t really care about his health. betty and archie use this as an opportunity to kiss during origin of love. the variety show is cancelled, but the core four and gay kevin perform midnight radio on the roof, and jughead watches a stalker vhs tape of someone in a betty mask killing someone in a jughead mask. tickle porn shenanigans continue, and gay kevin is threatened over cheating his original tickle porn handler out of money. mr honey then forces them to shut the website down. cheryl leaves the rum business after her mother is threatened because of goons that were mad at hiram. hiram decides to deal with this by going after said goons. archie writes a song for betty, they explore their relationship further, but she picks jughead over him even when he says he’ll dump veronica for her. jughead discovers that ethel watched his and betty’s sex tape, and he and charles uncover blue velvet video, which houses sexy films and snuff films, and jughead is like “oh this is connected to the whole vhs stalker thing.” cheryl is sent a video of someone dressed up as her father killing someone dressed up as her brother. the riverteens turn their focus to the fact that all of them except archie and jughead have been banned from prom for various reasons, and betty suggests they kill mr honey as punishment. jughead writes an elaborate murder fantasy about them doing so, and also kills off reggie and drives cheryl insane for the bit i guess. the riverteens conclude that mr honey was behind the vhs stalker tapes and have him fired, and he tells them they’re all deranged before going to teach at stonewall prep. the school secretary tells them all the wonderful things mr honey did for the school and hands jughead a recommendation letter he wrote him for college. jughead realises they fucked up and rewrites his story so mr honey lives, but uh oh! he and betty uncover a vhs tape of their fictional murder of mr honey, much like the others.

and that’s what you missed on riverdale!

#this is missing. a lot. but so much happens in this show.#ask #Anonymous

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jesse-eisenberg-interview · 13 years

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Some Actors Work Both Sides of a Script

Jesse Eisenberg and Zoe Kazan

Credit...Robert Wright for The New York Times

By Jason Zinoman

Sept. 23, 2011

AT the end of a 90-minute conversation Jesse Eisenberg announced that what he really would like to do is write a musical. To which Zoe Kazan responded, “That’s the most impressive thing you’ve said this whole time.” Mr. Eisenberg answered back by listing other comments he had made. “Musical theater totally trumps that,” she retorted.

Ms. Kazan, 28, and Mr. Eisenberg, who will be 28 next month, trade barbs in a way that only people who run in the same circles would. These actors have known each other for years. They are both slightly built New Yorkers known for intelligent performances dramatizing eccentric anxiety. Mr. Eisenberg is more famous because of blockbuster movies like “The Social Network,” but Ms. Kazan has more experience onstage, starring most recently in the revival of “Angels in America.” But they both give the impression that they are younger than they are, of being indie even when acting in Hollywood or on Broadway. Now they have something else in common: They have each written a play that has a debut next month.

Ms. Kazan’s “We Live Here,” a dysfunctional-family drama set before a wedding, opens at Manhattan Theater Club on Oct. 12, the same day that Mr. Eisenberg’s “Asuncion” begins previews at the Cherry Lane Theater. Mr. Eisenberg stars in his comedy, a Rattlestick Playwrights Theater production, as a naïve blogger whose ideals clash with his life experience. On a recent morning they chatted with Jason Zinoman over coffee. These are excerpts from the conversation.

Q. It’s a cliché for actors to say, “I want to direct,” but less often do I hear them say, “I want to write a play.” Why did you do it?

ZOE KAZAN I always wrote. My parents are writers. It just seemed like something people did. I took a writing class in college, liked it, and my first year out of school I couldn’t get a job, so I wrote a play. I never wanted to be a playwright. I just didn’t say no to any of my interests. I don’t have any hobbies.

JESSE EISENBERG People ask me what my hobbies are in interviews, and I always say biking. But all I bike for is to get to rehearsal more quickly. I have no hobbies either.

KAZAN Way to go. I bet you and I would make fascinating dinner companions.

EISENBERG Pure narcissism. We could have separate dinners alone.

KAZAN I am my own wife.

Q. Jesse, tell me about your play.

EISENBERG It’s about a writer obsessed with big issues but who doesn’t do anything about them. I do what I like to do, explore parts of myself that I am embarrassed by. I grew up in an apolitical household. I never left the country. When I became an adult, I started traveling and became interested in politics, and I probably talked about things in a silly, ignorant way. So I explored this in myself and exaggerated it for comedic effect.

Q. How exaggerated is it? One of the main characters, the one played by you, gets mugged and then sympathizes with his attackers.

EISENBERG I was mugged one night in New York and slammed into a concrete pillar, and I did an interview where I said I completely understand why they attacked me. It was a poor, black neighborhood. Someone sent me an article saying: “You ignorant idiot. It’s more offensive to defend these people. It’s more racist to defend them.” He’s right, and that is the impetus for the first scene.

Q. Jesse’s play deals with a relationship between brothers, while yours is about an equally fraught sibling relationship.

KAZAN I have a sister who I am close to. I was interested in the idea of the sister relationship in general. I wrote a first draft in fall of 2009. MTC commissioned it, and they gave me some money. When I was acting in “A Behanding [in Spokane],” I was going in five hours early and working on it there.

Q. Did Martin McDonagh [the author of “Behanding’] give feedback?

KAZAN He read it.

EISENBERG [Imitating Mr. McDonagh] How come no one gets his head sawed off in this?

KAZAN You don’t know, Jesse, you haven’t read it.

EISENBERG Listen, I read the play, but I think you left out a page where someone gets his tongue cut out and stapled to his eye.

KAZAN I guess I don’t really seek notes from a broad range of people. It’s more like we were becoming friends, and I was going early and he was like: What are you doing?

Q. Jesse, who do you give work to?

EISENBERG If I think my play is bad, I’ll send it to my mother because she only gives me compliments. If I think it’s good, jeez, I don’t know. My mom calls me every 16 minutes, and she says: “That’s great sweetie. You’re my favorite child out of the three of you. Why are you not president?”

Q. Zoe, you grew up with two screenwriters as parents.

KAZAN My parents will sit down at the dining-room table and give notes on each other’s scripts. It’s the worst thing in the world. It’s like the house is burning down. It’s awful for my sister and me.

EISENBERG You should give your script to my mother. She would be real encouraging.

KAZAN I would love that. Then maybe I would be her favorite child.

Q. Which is the biggest challenge for you as a writer: character, plot or language?

EISENBERG Aspects of each. It’s a cop-out of an answer. At each point I come to a problem with a plot point or character, it seems insurmountable. Or is it unsurmountable? Not to be surmounted? So language is my answer.

KAZAN I think action should be revealed through character, so if you have a plot problem, it’s probably a character problem. It’s fun and easy to write language, but there were things I loved that I had to get rid of because they are no longer carrying their weight.

Q. Does the fact you are actors have any impact on the amount of trust you have that your cast will find the right subtext in your lines?

KAZAN My rewriting process has been a lot about taking away the explicit and letting the subtext speak for itself. Sam [Gold, who is directing the play] is pushing me to be brave in pursuit of that. I think it’s hard for an actor.

Q. One thing that struck me about both your plays is that in an age when plays are becoming more cinematic in structure, yours are not.

KAZAN We both work in film, so if we are going to write a play, why not write a play?

EISENBERG There’s something strange about theater. My characters consistently demonize elitism, but of course it’s taking place in a theater where only so many people can see it. I’ve been in silly popcorn movies — the kind of thing that as an actor you might feel embarrassed about — but those movies reach many more people. In a play you’re basically performing for rich people.

Q. Broadway was once the ultimate in success for a young dramatist. How do you think of it now?

KAZAN Broadway is different now than in our parents’ generation. The number of straight plays opening there now is so small compared to the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s. I see many more plays Off Broadway by dint of ticket price and what’s being produced. If it costs more, it has to reach a larger audience. That’s why there aren’t more risky plays on Broadway.

EISENBERG I don’t consider Broadway for us — as theatergoers. I never even consider going there to see something.

KAZAN I want to see “Book of Mormon,” but for $400? Look, [turning to Mr. Eisenberg] for 60 bucks, 65 bucks I can see your play, right?

EISENBERG $75, actually. Listen I know someone who can get you in.

KAZAN $75? I’m not going to see your play.

EISENBERG Hey, I was in a zombie movie.

Q. Zoe, you also wrote a movie called “He Loves Me” that is supposed to come out next year. What is it about?

KAZAN It’s a magic realist romantic comedy. Paul [Dano, who is her boyfriend] plays a Jonathan Safran Foer-type writer who has writer’s block. He has one big novel and can’t follow it up. He starts to dream about this girl and then magical high jinks ensue. But it’s rooted in reality and comes from my experience. I was in relationships in my late teens with much older men and always felt like a piece of clay. But when I got older, I wasn’t so fluid as a person anymore. My relationships got better but harder. I wanted to write about that.

Q. Jesse, you just finished shooting a Woody Allen movie currently titled “The Bop Decameron.” Why do actors always adopt his mannerisms when starring in his films? Is it because his humor is so influential or is it in the cadences of the lines?

EISENBERG Those two plus a third reason, which is that after each take, he’s giving you notes and his voice is so iconic and funny and specific. Its impossible not to [imitate it]. You also want to indulge fully in being in a Woody Allen movie. He would say, “Don’t be hamstrung by dialogue and say whatever you want.” And I just end up making his jokes. At one point I realized after I did a scene that I made a joke from “Manhattan.”

KAZAN Steal from the best, man.

EISENBERG Just not in front of him. Go down the block first.

SOURCE

#2011 #jesse eisenberg #zoe kazan

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lonelier-version-of-you · 2 years

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I thought those were two very good episodes of Casualty tonight! Apologies if my reviews are a little short and less detailed than usual though - I haven’t had much sleep. But here we go anyway.

Thoughts on the first episode, “Road to Nowhere” (just typing that out gets that Talking Heads song stuck in my head):

The trafficking plotline was really hard-hitting and powerful, though very difficult to watch (as a topic as awful as this should be). All the actors involved were very good. I don’t much like Iain, so some parts of this storyline I haven’t been that interested in, but when they’ve put the focus on the actual trafficking victims - then it’s been really well done, I think.

The actresses playing Sara and the other girl - sorry, I can’t remember her name - were fantastic. They conveyed their characters’ emotions really well. Casualty is really good at getting you to feel for one-off characters, and I felt very strongly for Sara tonight - her going into labour in the truck was terrifying to watch.

The Ollie scenes were a bit... eh, Casualty doesn’t really know how to write for teenaged characters a lot of the time I think. The school bullies were really awkward to watch. However, the idea of giving Ollie a mental health plotline (if that is where this is going like the spoiler articles have been suggesting) is GREAT. Harry Collett is a great actor, Jason Durr is also great, Ollie and David are characters you can get invested in very easily, and the storyline idea has so much potential. Ollie’s had so much trauma throughout his life, so having him struggle with his mental health makes complete sense. And it provides a lot of potential for great scenes with David - him worrying that he’s not been a good enough father and that it’s his fault Ollie is depressed, while also battling the fear that he could have passed his bipolar on... I have really high hopes for this. Fingers crossed it delivers.

Thoughts on the second episode, “First Date”:

I think although both episodes tonight were good, I preferred this one. Casualty’s flashback episodes can be a bit 50/50 but this one was definitely well done. It probably helps that Kevin Rundle wrote it - his writing is also 50/50 (sorry, I still don’t get the hype about the COVID episode), but when he’s good he’s VERY good (such as tonight, and the EastEnders New Year’s 2021 special).

Before I get into the heavy parts of tonight’s episode, I wanna say - having Ethan the Whovian go on a date with Jenny Flint is really funny and I desperately want to know if someone behind the scenes specifically wanted Catrin Stewart for this role.

Anyway, I thought that this episode handled the issue of Ethan’s grief really well. And George Rainsford gave an excellent performance - I find some of his acting quite mediocre on occasion, but he was truly great tonight.

Not quite sure how I feel about Amy, but she’s certainly an interesting character and I wouldn’t mind seeing her back again. Catrin Stewart played her very well.

Of course, the highlight tonight was seeing the lovely Fenisha again! I miss her so much. She deserved so much better. And Olivia D’Lima has always been such a great actress. You can tell they’re already regretting throwing Fenisha away like they did.

The whole “if I get to Heaven before you” scene was a pretty cheap attempt to get to the audience’s emotions and make us cry, not unlike the “grandpa Noel” scene in History Repeating, but it did indeed manage to make me cry so... yeah.

And even though it was mostly used to set up the Ethan and Amy story, I thought the plotline with the father and his son was really emotional and heartbreaking.

Next week, we get a Sah-centric episode written by Ed Sellek. Yes, an episode about everyone’s favourite nonbinary autistic paramedic, written by an autistic man. Get hype!

#BBC Casualty #Casualty spoilers #tw;trafficking

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lovingmyselfcore · 3 years

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Skate Into My Heart

Chapter Three; Uh oh

BESTIES

I'M ALIVE AND I DID THE WRITING THING

@ciaraloves (or @perseusjackson-jasongrace ig) LOOK AT ME DOING THE THING

As soon as Nico left the locker room, Piper pounced on him. Literally.

He was forced to take a step back and caught her by the shoulders, “What’s up?”

She was practically vibrating with excitement, “Annabeth’s back!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Come on!” She grabbed his hand and yanked him through the hallways and into the main rink where a crowd of people had formed next to the bleachers.

It was the rest of the team and in the center was Annabeth, a duffle bag slung over one shoulder, looking exhausted as all hell but she was grinning as the team peppered her with questions and play-by-plays of the practices she’d missed.

Piper shouldered them into the center so Nico was directly in front of Annabeth, Piper on one side and Calypso on the other.

“Hey, Nico,” Annabeth said, still grinning. She stepped forward for a hug and he let her, burying his face into her neck and breathing, already feeling the responsibility leaking from his tight shoulders. Annabeth was like a big sister to him, not that he’d ever admit that, but still.

“You want to get out?” Nico whispered into her neck.

“Yes,” She whispered back emphatically. Nico could barely stop himself from laughing but as they pulled apart he saw the genuine relief in her eyes and felt himself worrying. He needed to talk to her, about the team and skating, about Will and of course, if she needed to talk about why she’d been gone for so long, he’d do that too.

Apparently, Calypso recognized that too and, bless her heart, muttered something to Leo, and together they captured the team’s attention, allowing Nico to tug Annabeth away from the crowd and out of the rink. She sighed as soon as they were ejected onto the city streets. Nico stuck an arm out and she smiled and linked their arms.

“Where are you headed?” Nico asked as they walked the short distance to the car garage.

“Oh, probably just my apartment.”

Nico nodded, “I wasn’t sure if you’d be staying with your dad or not.”

She shook her head, “He doesn’t even know I landed yet. I’ll head over in the morning.”

Her voice was stiff and Nico took that as his cue to change the subject. “So I have something to confide in you.”

She perked up almost immediately and he swallowed hard. But she just looked at him with those gray eyes and he reminded himself that this was Annabeth. That she wasn’t going to get angry with him.

At least, he hoped not.

“I’m talking to one of the hockey players,” He said casually.

Her grip on his arm stiffened and he braced himself but she was still just looking at him.

Finally, she grinned, “So when you say ‘talking to’...”

He groaned and felt himself flush, “Oh, shut up! Just friends.”

She hummed and released his arm to dig for her keys in her jacket pocket. “Is he nice?”

“No, he’s a dick,” Nico said sarcastically.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “I don’t know why I even bother.”

“He’s blonde,” Nico offered.

“Oooh,” Annabeth drawled.

He rolled his eyes and she burst out laughing, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the parking garage.

“Is he gay?” Annabeth asked.

Nico nearly flinched and passed it off with another eye roll, “I don’t know, Annie, that’s not something that’s come up in casual conversation.”

She glared at him and Nico, being the mature adult he is, stuck his tongue out at her. She did it back then shook her head. “Too much time with Percy,” She muttered and Nico snorted. She grinned at him.

“So he’s okay?”

That sobered her immediately. “Yeah. Well, as okay as he can be. I’m only here for like two weeks because he insisted I come back, but I’m leaving as soon as possible,” She glanced sideways at him, “Not to leave you alone again, though.”

He shrugged off the flash of selfish hurt he’d felt, “I’m good, Beth.” But he wasn’t good. He’d just told her about Will, and not even the start of the way his stomach would twist when he saw a new text from the hockey player and not the same twist when he panicked. And that also meant his chances of performing solo again were climbing. He didn’t know how to feel about that part.

“Stop that!” She exclaimed, halting once they’d reached her car.

“Get some sleep, Annabeth,” He said genuinely then smirked a little, “It looks like you need it.”

She threw a balled-up receipt she’d found in her bag at him, “Dick!”

~~~~

“Hey, Nico.”

Nico nearly leaped out of his skin, spinning to see Persephone in the living room.

She snorted, “Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry. Did practice go well?”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, “Yeah. Annabeth’s back.”

Persephone hummed, reaching up to untwist her hair, sending it cascading down her shoulders, “That’s good. I know you’ve missed her,” She said with a knowing look in her eyes that made him shift uncomfortably.

“Yeah, definitely, um, I’m tired we learned some new moves for Regionals today, so,”

“Yeah of course.” She was still smiling.

“‘Night Persephone,”

~~~

Nico flopped face-down onto his bed with a groan. He knew Persephone though he had a crush on Annabeth; he didn’t blame her, he’d never really made it a point that he didn’t. He wished he could come out to her and his dad, he didn’t really have a reason why he hadn’t besides the weight of anxiety on his lungs.

His phone buzzed again, and he wriggled upright to yank it out of his pocket.

Will: Distract me

Will: My mom is driving me insane

Nico grinned to himself, both of them were dealing with mommy issues at the moment.

Nico: idk how you expect me to distract you

Will: Just tell me about snakes or smth

Nico: you think i just have fun facts about snakes on hand?

Will: Yeah?

Nico: good

Nico: cause i do

Will: :)

Nico: snakes can slither 12.5 mph

Will: Good lord

Nico: snakes have internal ears but not external ones

Will: ??

Nico: they can’t create their own body heat which is why theyre in the sun all the time

Will: Hmmmm

Nico: they smell w/their tongues

Will: I thought they had nostrils??

Nico: they do

Will: what

Nico: it’s their Jacobson’s organ my dude it works in mysterious ways

Nico: not really but yk

Nico: sCieNcE

Will: ok….

Nico: if you get bored of snakes i’ve also got a bunch of random cheetah facts

Nico: i love cheetahs

Nico: very cool

Nico: fast cats

Will: Lmao go ahead

Nico: but first

Nico: why’s your mom driving you insane

Nico: if you want to tell me ofc

Nico: not trying to be weird

Will: Nah you’re fine

Will: She wants me to focus entirely on med school and not hockey

Will: She’s trying to get me out of it, actually

Will: Do something ‘respectable’

Will: Not turn out like my dad

Will: Even though dad has literally NOTHING to do with hockey

Will: And in my opinion he’s not bad. Not great. Not awful yk

Will: But hockey’s what’s putting me through med school so

Will: Gods, I really just burdened you with that I’m so sorry

Nico: med school huh

Nico: now i can say i know a doctor

Will: In training

Nico: close enough

Nico: you’re a great hockey player and you're going to be a great doctor

Nico: and you can always talk to me, will

Nico: you’re not burdening me with shit

Will: thanks <3

Nico didn’t understand why he blushed. It was a goddamn emoji. Calm down, Di Angelo.

Will: So we’ve been talking for a few weeks now. Can I call you my friend yet?

Nico snorted, feeling like he was fifteen again, sprawled on his bed, in the dark (because for some reason he didn’t turn his lights on) late at night, texting his- well, anyway.

Nico: yea dumbass

Nico: we’re friends

Will: Nice

Will: Now give me cheetah facts you adorable nerd

~~~

WILL

“Will? You good?”

Will blinked, Jason coming in to focus in front of him. “Uh, yeah.”

“That was believable,” Clarisse said sarcastically from behind Jason.

Will attempted to shake the fog from his head, “Yes,” He repeated.

Jason just blinked at him and Will was formulating an excuse for why he was so tired besides the fact that he’d spent all night talking to a cute figure skater with a ridiculous amount of animal facts stored in his small body when Coach Hedge’s voice boomed from his seat on the bleachers, “Solace! You alive?”

“Yes, coach!” Will shot back.

“Then why are you just standing there? Get back to the game! You too, La Rue and Grace!”

“Yes, sir!” They all barked back.

Clarisse gave him a once over before skating back to her goal and Jason went over to Will’s spot with him, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

Jason opened his mouth, probably to question why the mom friend of their group was tired enough he nearly tripped over his stick but Will just said, “It’s fine, Jase. It’s not a big deal.”

“Grace!” Coach Hedge screeched.

Jason gave up on trying to interrogate Will and skated back over to his spot.

~~~~

“Mama, please,” Will tried, but his mother cut him off.

“Willaim. Hush. How’s that girl you said you were dating?”

What?

He was silent for a beat too long.

“Oh, baby,” His mother’s thick southern accent drenched her words. “You broke up? I’m so sorry.”

Oh gods, Lou Ellen Blackstone.

Will and Lou Ellen had dated for two months a long time ago, and when they were still dating he’d told his mother about her to get her to back off of his personal life a little. Their break up hadn’t had a huge fallout, Lou Ellen had told him through tears in his living room that she was aromantic. They were still friends, had been even before they dated, actually, and talked to each other pretty regularly.

But the problem was, that had been three months ago, and he hadn’t told his mother about their breakup. He knew she’d ask why, and he didn’t want to out Lou Ellen or make her a devil in his mother’s eyes. So he’d procrastinated coming up with a reason until he’d forgotten about it entirely.

And now it had come back to bite him in the ass.

“Yeah we broke up a little while ago,” He forced himself to sound choked up, which wasn’t hard, giving the way his panicked brain was now sprinting in circles on his lungs. “I just didn’t disappoint you.” Probably the most honest thing he’d said in weeks, but that’ll be unpacked later.

“Honey,” She sighed sadly and Will didn’t know whether or not that was on his behalf or hers.

“Well, it’s okay, because I’m dating someone new.”

“Oh?” He could hear her spine straighten. “Is it someone I know?”

No, mom, it’s not one of the country girls I grew up with.

“No,” He winced at how southern he sounded. He’d been talking to his mother for five minutes. “You don’t know him.”

HIM. Good Gods, Will. Yeah, you came out as bi to your mom, but still, you haven’t actually mentioned a guy to her yet.

She was silent for so long his heart joined his brain in the track meet happening on top of his lungs. “What’s his name?”

He was so she’d spoken that he blurted, “Nico.”

What. The. Fuck. Willaim.

Apparently, his heart had won that damn track race.

“Well, what I was leading up to before you told me about what happened,”

Will hummed non-committally, trying not to sound like he was taking relieved breaths as she spoke.

“The family’s come for a reunion and you should bring that boy!” Will choked on his spit.

“Mom, I don’t know about-”

“No, William. There isn’t a set date yet so we can work around your schedule,” Fuck. “I insist, Will. I need to meet this boy you clearly like very much, even though all you’ve said is his name, a mother knows.”

Umm, what.

“Sure,” Will said, sounding a little strangled. “But we have a game this weekend.”

“Alright, William.” She sounded the way she always did when he brought up hockey. “But as I said, we can work around your schedule and his. Talk to him about it, and let me know.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Will repeated. “I’ll do that.”

She hung up and he was left staring at the wilting daisies at his kitchen table.

What had he just done?

#skate into my heart au #solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #nico x will #jason grace #annabeth chase #percy jackson #pjo fic #hoo fic #au #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #solangelo fic #will and nico

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newagesispage · 3 years

Text

OCTOBER 2021

THE RIB PAGE

*****

We miss U Charlie Watts!!

*****

The Stones performed at a private party for Patriots owner Robert Kraft of all people. The test run looked like just that. Shark jumped. I am becoming disillusioned.

*****

SNL is back with Owen Wilson as first host of season 47. Kacey Musgraves is the musical guest. Episode 2 will have a ridic choice for host. Halsey will sing. I suppose $ is power with the Kardashians. I could think of about 10 million other people to host but more and more Lorne goes for the shiny object , what he THINKS people want instead of taking risk. Beck Bennett is out.

*****

Is everybody watching the Amber Ruffin Show?? I loved her before but now… I learn so much from her show. Sometimes it takes a comic to get to the real serious shit. For example: Have you heard of drowning towns? Towns like Oscarville, Kowaliga, York hill, Seneca Village, Prentiss and countless other black towns that were drowned out to make lakes for the local whites. Central Park was also made after a black community was erased from history. Development displacement? Alleyway dwelling authority? Even those rabid for history can find out new things everyday. Thanks Amber!!

*****

Bob Woodward and Robert Costa are finally giving us Peril !!!!!! I’ve been waiting!!** I was in political nerd heaven on Sept. 24 when Yamiche hosted Robert, Bob and Weijia Jang on Washington Week. All of my favorite pundits all together at one table, my dream team!!

*****

Iman looked great at the Met Gala!! Other great looks belonged to AOC, Tessa Thompson, Maluma, Helen Lasichanb and Pharrell Williams. Gigi Hadid, Kiki Layne, Ashton Sanders, Hailee Steinfeld, Kehlani, Zoe Kravitz, Michaela Cole, Lili Reinhart, Kate Hudson and Shai Gilgeous- Alexander were great. Whoopi Goldberg seemed a bit off.

*****

Jason Isbell is back with his latest offering, Georgia Blue.

*****

I see a lot of Title Max type establishment are closing down. Are they a thing of the past? Let’s hope.

*****

Law and Order is coming back to NBC for season 21. Dick Wolf will own 2 entire nights of television. Some of the old cast is reported to be returning.

*****

Britney Spears Father was suspended as her conservator.

*****

Timothy Chalamet, Rowan Atkinson, Sally Hawkins and Olivia Coleman will star in Wonka.

*****

The 2022 Super Bowl halftime show will bring us Snoop Dogg, Eminem, Mary J. Blige, Dr. Dre and Kendrick Lamar.

*****

People are doing test runs for school board positions to see if their political ideas will play well for the big leagues. If they don’t seem to work, at least they can sometimes change the rules in their own area.

*****

Joe Rogan got Covid.

*****

Lake Michigan beaches were closed down thanks to a US Steel plant chemical leak.

*****

Is this country the master of endless administrative work? None of us should have been surprised at the red tape that the slowed down the end of the war in Afghanistan.** Uber donated 50k for rides and meals to the Afghans when they arrive.**And why do so many waste taxpayer $ on useless recounts and recalls when people need real help with food and healthcare? They must really hate humanity.

*****

R. Kelly was found guilty of 8 counts of sex trafficking and 1 count of racketeering.

*****

Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. – Dwight D. Eisenhower

*****

Texas has put a law into effect to allow most Texans to carry open without permit or training.

*****

Texas has banned abortion at about 6 weeks. Uber and Lyft will pay drivers legal fees if sued under Texas abortion law. Lyft donated $1mil to Planned Parenthood. ** Look for the ruling in the Mississippi law over Roe V. Wade in June 2022.**Hear us roar!** BTW.. Go Jen Psaki!!!!!!!

*****

They seriously banned plastic straws and abortion before assault rifles? – Eden Dranger

*****

Please stop banning abortions, the last thing the world needs is more Americans. –Sarah Beattie

*****

Women don’t inseminate themselves. Vasectomies are reversible. Should every man have one until he’s deemed financially and emotionally fit to be a Father? – Bradley Whitford

*****

90 year old William Shatner will go to space for Blue Origin.

*****

The Q Anon Shaman pled guilty to a felony for obstructing the Electoral College proceedings. I say 20 years and a $250K fine.** 600 others have been indicted.

*****

Days Alert: The Beyond Salem thing was ridic but it was so great to see some old characters. Days is so great at visiting old family. Who can resist Shane, Austin and Carrie, Billie and the old Kristen? I do wish that Peacock would get their kinks out!! Back to the real Days: Are we smelling an Emmy for Susan Seaforth Hayes and Bill?? ** Good to have Abigail back. It is always fun to wonder which actress and or personality it will be. ** Deidre Hall got her star on the walk of fame.**And just in time for Halloween, the Devil is making a comeback. The end of the year in Salem is always the best!! It is so brave to give the 96 year old man the old switcheroo into the Dark Lord. It was fun to see the grandkids discover Grandma Marlena’s story. Delicious!! Hail Satan!!** It is past time for Tate and Teresa to come back to town. Brady needs to be put in his place. And thanks for the Philip and Chloe flashbacks!!

*****

The breakdown of the vaccinated: 90% of Atheists, 86% Hispanic Catholic, 84% Agnostic, 79% White Catholic, 73% White mainline protestant, 70% Black mainline protestant, 57% white evangelical. 1 in 500 Americans have died of Covid.

*****

So Mike Lindell and Jim Baker have teamed up to sell children’s Bible pillows.** Piers Morgan has returned to the Murdoch organization by joining Fox. That sounds about right.

*****

Please stop saying the vaccine does not have severe side effects, I took my shots and now I’m alive and have to keep working. –Mohand Eishieky

*****

In theatres Oct. 22: The French Dispatch.** October also brings us a new season of Curb your enthusiasm and Oct. 17 will catch us up on Succession. Whew!!!

*****

So people under conservatorship are not free to marry who they want? What?

*****

46% of Americans believe in ghosts.

*****

Simone Biles, Mckayla Maroney and Aly Rasiman testified at the Senate judiciary hearing about the FBI’s handling of accusations against Larry Nassar and it was eye opening!

*****

We wanted a no -nonsense Dem who pushes on and does not puss out. I am a bit surprised to see we have it. There are so many pressing issues that I hope Biden works a bit more on Haiti though.

*****

The National Police Act was passed to celebrate cops. Still no police reform.

*****

John Mulaney and Olivia Munn are going to have a baby.

*****

The Emmy’s were a little different this year with more of a Golden Globe look. Cedric the Entertainer hosted with Reggie Watts as DJ. Lots of minority noms but barely a win. It was a white people night. Ted Lasso had a great night. Mare of Eastown took home a few with Evan Peters, Julianne Nicholson and Kate Winslet. Now, Kate is great but how did Anya Taylor- Joy not walk away with that? Queens Gambit did win a couple and gave the longest speech with the seemingly arrogant director Scott Frank who opened up 2 page acceptance. Categories were tough but I was routing for Renee Elise Goldberry and Bowen Yang but perhaps next year. The people in England who had their own party for all the statues that the Crown won seemed to be having more fun! Hacks won for writing and directing and Jean Smart!! It was nice to see the Norm Macdonald love which was barely mentioned by Lorne but celebrated by John Oliver. Colbert ‘s election night special won as did JB Smoove. Hamilton won and Debbie Allen got the big one. I do not understand why real singers and or musicians have to be there for the in Memoriam. It takes me out of it a bit and concentrates the focus on them. Do they think that people will pay attention more? Do they want to keep the home audience or live audience from the bathroom? My best dressed were Anya Taylor-Joy, Michaela Cole who won for I may destroy you, Jean Smart, Josh O’Connor, Kathryn Hahn, Billy Porter, MJ Rodriguez, Keenan Thonpson, Leslie Odom Jr., Catherine O’Hara, Trevor Noah, Eugene Levy, Keri Russell and Matthew Rhys, Bowen Yang, Anthony Anderson, Leslie Grossman, Amber Ruffin, Allyson Felix, Renee Elise Goldberry, Samira Wiley and Rege- Jean Page. My worst were Sarah Paulson, Gillian Anderson, Beanie Feldstein, Elizabeth Olsen and Aidy Bryant. To me the best part of the show was the enthusiasm of Conan and the way he injected himself into much of the evening .He was the show. Go Conan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*****

Next year there must be some Emmys for Sarah Paulson and Cobie Smulders in Impeachment!!!!!

*****

Oh Boy!! The Eyes of Tammy Faye!!

*****

Looking forward to the Electric Life of Louis Wain with Benedict Cumberbatch and Claire Foy.

*****

Abba has a new album!!

*****

Shang Chi is the biggest Labor Day opening with a $71.4 mil opening.

*****

Sen. Amy Klobuchar has announced she has breast cancer.

*****

Is it the 70’s? A streaker ran past the studio of the Today show.

*****

Rascal Flatts Joe Don Rooney was arrested for DUI.** Nicholas Cage was thrown out of a prime rib pace in Vegas after being drunk and disorderly.

*****

Jennifer Eckhart has filed a lawsuit against former Fox news anchor Ed Henry for rape and retaliation after allegedly being handcuffed and beaten.

*****

Scarlett Johansson has settled her Disney lawsuit.

*****

Pete Buttigieg and Chasten had twins they named Penelope Rose and Joseph August.

*****

I noticed a commercial for Dancing with the Stars. Are we onto the E list because I have heard of hardly any of these people. ‘Stars’is really stretching it. And as I post this I see there are some covid issues there as well.

*****

Virgin River was renewed for 2 more seasons.

*****

Trevor Noah is right? Why do they stop giving lollipops to adults at the doctor?

*****

Jon Stewart is back on Apple tv with ‘The problem with Jon Stewart.

*****

Brooklyn 99 had about the best finale (other than Newhart) that I can recall. I had my fingers crossed that Chelsea would be back. Will they honor us like they did in the show and come back for a special about once a year? That would be fucking awesome!!

*****

Don’t expect compliments from an insecure person.- Mr. Pickles

*****

Thousands and thousands of people are in need. Haitian refugees and other immigrants have seen nothing like this what with assassination, a hurricane and earthquake. The Southern border is a mess.** Why does Fox news keep telling refugees the border is open as they sit back and laugh at Biden’s predicament. Spreading false info to intentionally hurt poor, distressed people has no end for them.

*****

Do companies know how fucked up their employment websites are? It is true that some people do not want to work. It is true that people schedule interviews and don’t show up. It is also true that companies have made it so hard to apply that many can’t. I suppose it is easier for them but the poor who may really want to work have a hard time. Paper applications are almost completely gone. The old fashioned way of walking into low paying job sites and finding a connection with a manager rarely exist. Some places only accept texts or have long ridiculous psych tests that a working Mother may not have time for. A Father working many hours already, may not be able to go to the library to get online if they cannot afford a computer. Many websites tell you that there no positions available in your area while there is a huge sign in front of the establishment. Can’t find people to work.. Gee I wonder why?? And treat people with respect once you find them, how about that?

*****

Keep your head up in failure, and your head down in success. –Jerry Seinfeld

*****

Hey.. There was a van air B’n B biz going that got busted. Hey.. The poor need vaca’s too. It is wrong but If they are willing to sleep in a van, why not. I truly think that many do not understand how much people are struggling.

*****

Free coffee day came and went but only a few places really gave you free coffee without rules to govern the promo. Some places wanted to sell you something else and some made you belong to their club. Starbucks held that customers had to come inside for the free cup of Joe, handicapped or not.

*****

One would think the Republicans would run out of $ for recounts but they have deep pockets. Just think how much good they could do for the huddled masses with that scratch.

*****

Sad to lose Mick Brigden, protégé of Bill Graham who managed The Stones and worked with Frampton, Dylan and Santana.** And the comics were very vocal about the loss of Norm Macdonald. He was one of a kind and he will be missed!

*****

R.I.P. Ruth Marx, Lee Scratch Perry, Willard Scott, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Isadore Bleckman, George Wein, Michael K. William,George Holliday, Anthony Johnson, Basil Hoffman, Al Harrington,Willie Garson, Mick Brigden, Tommy Kirk and Norm Macdonald.

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