#We barely get anything; all we have now is a new character people are divided about | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

robogalaxies · 3 months ago

Text

☎️ - The Unneeded But Happily Researched Crumbs Of Everything We Know About The Commissioner

“If anything happens… I’ll deny I ever knew you.”

The Commissioner is, as we all know, a mystery, and I hope it stays that way, but I put it upon myself to wrangle every little tidbit of information we have on him outside of giving cases! I do this solely because of three things:

I have nothing better to do

I find myself strangely endeared to his character (i.e. I do a gay little "favorite character" clap every time I hear him mentioned)

I want to share all my random knowledge with you all because I go digging for it in every S&M media there is

I'll be dividing this up into 4 sections for ease of access: comics lore, games lore (HtR, Telltale, TTIV), cartoon lore, and misc. lore. Some things MAY be assumptions based on other characters' reactions to what he MIGHT be saying or say about him, sure, but I will source all information on where to find it & provide images when they can be easily provided!~ If anything new comes up or I have forgotten something, I'll update. Until then... hope you love both hyperlinks and "at least I laughed at it" style commentary! ☎️

Comics Lore

The introduction of The Commissioner, as with everyone else! Small tidbits of his quite understated character outside of being The Phone are here, obviously, including:

the Commissioner's one and only speech bubble! (Bad Day on The Moon)

the beginnings of the implied "I love you" statements towards Sam & Max with an "XOXO" on a postcard (Bad Day on The Moon)

he shows SOME disdain towards Sam & Max's attitudes towards achieving their goals, being the one specifically to tell them to go on a road trip (On the Road #1, "Prisoners of The Casbah")

Games Lore

Hit the Road

The Commissioner is barely a character in this game (big surprise, right?) and you do not get much information on him minus the bare minimum of "he is Sam & Max's boss," so there's not much to be said here. In fact, I don't know why I mentioned it. Great game, though, go play it! Now! I'll wait until you get back :)

Save The World

Welcome back! There're only minor silly tidbits here, but they're needed for this comprehensive list. Everything is worth mentioning about a character with nothing to his name but "The Commissioner." I mean, you're reading this post, right?

wears bifocals! 👓 ("The Mole, The Mob, and The Meatball")

was once in contact with & worked with Harry Moleman, as he sent him to be the mole for the Toy Mafia. Crossover of the century... I wonder if he knows how far poor Harry has fallen ("The Mole, The Mob, and The Meatball")

Takes Sam & Max out for dinner sometimes, apparently, if they do well enough on their cases! Squirrel Garden sounds disgusting, but I'd be jazzed too if they also had the free breadsticks ("The Mole, The Mob, and The Meatball")

likely just a quick jab, so I don't really know why I'm putting it here other than humor, but Max apparently doesn't trust him! I hope that gets solved; Commissioner is sorta signing his meager paychecks ("Bright Side of The Moon")

Beyond Time and Space

The middle child of the Telltale trilogy, this game has barely anything in terms of tidbits given that he really only assigns the beginning cases in 1 out of 5 episodes, and even then, that doesn't give a single thing away. Despite this, there's gotta be one or two tidbits we should learn, right? Sure!

is aware of Sam's insistence on answering the phone & seemingly asks straight up why he didn't answer (What's Up, Beelzebub?)

Can confirm an "I love you" towards Max... d'aww! (What's Up, Beelzebub?)

The Devil's Playhouse

The Commissioner barely shows up or is referenced in this game, mainly due to the story existing outside of the common framing of "assigning cases," but we learn two small yet revealing tidbits:

British Columbian! 🇨🇦 (The City That Dares Not Sleep)

Has provided books on cultural and racial sensitivity for Sam & Max because they kept "reducing people to obvious stereotypes." (The City That Dares Not Sleep)

This Time, It's Virtual!

The phone exists yet again... but in your VR HEADSET! Some fairly funny Commissioner lore in this one even if you, like almost everyone I've seen in this fandom, dislike or even hate this game:

His family is in hiding, and I'm assuming Witness Protection?! Must come with the territory (phone call after completing first three Freelance Training segments in-game)

Can confirm an "I love you" of some sort said to Sam ... d'aww! (phone call after completing first three Freelance Training segments in-game)

Signs off even official, legal wanted posters with "The Commissioner," asking people to seek the help of Freelance Police & associates himself as PART of the Freelance Police!

signs your certificate at the end of the game, which mentions the Illuminati in conjunction with his name for some reason! What kind of policing are we running here....??

Cartoon Lore

Truly, the 90s cartoon is where most Commissioner lore lies if we take into consideration all of these happen within the same universe, which we likely shouldn't. This being said, the cartoon provides us with the only picture we have of the guy (see post photo above the cut). Alongside this, we also get a LOT more information than any other media:

before we even start the information in the ACTUAL cartoon, Sam & Max say within the show's initial Bible believe he's out to kill them, in some way, saying they're the "troubled, ungrateful sons he never had." That's so sweet ... in a way. As well, there's a very small section dedicated to the Commissioner as a character, though not much is said that we don't already know (Sam & Max Cartoon Series Bible)

has Geek's number, or at least a number to the Sub-Basment of Solitude, as he calls it more than once over the course of the series, which makes me wonder how well he may or may not know Geek! Like a grandniece or something (episodes 1, "The Thing That Wouldn't Stop It" & 3b, "They Came from Down There")

cried over the story of Sam & Max having to get rid of John, their beloved alligator son... must be a shared parental instinct (episode 6a, "That Darn Gator")

apparently sends sticker books in case briefings on a semi-regular basis, as Sam comments that he "loves when the Commissioner does that" as if it has happened before - how whimsical! (episode 6b, "We Drop at Dawn")

confirms the Commissioner as a legitimate police commissioner alongside being Sam & Max's boss (episode 6b, "We Drop at Dawn")

seemingly very fussy if not given his private bathroom and honor bar. Fancy stuff, Commissioner, & he apparently allows Sam and Max up there! Or not, they just sorta bust in. Whatever! Sharing is caring (episode 6b, "We Drop at Dawn")

the Commissioner has a DAUGHTER! and somehow, Sam & Max got invited to her WEDDING! I think she's beautiful and I hope she doesn't resent her special day getting ruined (episode 11a, "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang")

that iconic, signed, chest only photo given with the solemn, loving, promise of "If anything ever happens, I'll deny I ever knew you," followed by Max crying that it's "It's just... so him." - what a loving, tender and slightly bordering on oddly familial relationship he has with Sam and Max... stop, I'll start crying! (episode 13, "The Final Episode")

Misc. Lore

These are lore tidbits that are present in mediums either outside of the media itself, belong in a game that is not technically part of the larger S&M canon, or has to do with out of media context, but should be included anyway because why not!

gifts Sam & Max a new floaty pen from a different United State every Christmas ... but not really anything else! (Poker Night 2)

Sam & Max discuss the Commissioner's power in response to doubt about his existence, claiming "Don’t you know he’s everywhere? He knows we’re talking about him right now!" - which is sort of scary, but I'll let it slide because it implies that the Commissioner's surveillance is of a much higher caliber than we initially thought and that is BANGER (in-character interview for Telltale, found here on Steve Purcell's Sam & Max FB page)

He's affectionate yet surly & I'm sure all those "I love you" statements contribute to that! D'aww... (Skunkape Origin Video)

Voiced by a member of Bay Area Sound, Julian Kwasneski, in the Telltale trilogy! Talked about and even has a LINE recited in this specific developer commentary! We love a mysterious boss who sounds like an adult in Peanuts.

God bless the guy, he had a rash! Does this matter? No. Will it ever matter? Likely not, as it was from the sadly cancelled Sam & Max: Freelance Police trailer. Sighs. At this point, you can tell I'm just adding whatever mentions we get of the guy. Makes me giggle, though.

Conclusion...?

In the end, the Commissioner is a mystery, and always WILL be a mystery. Hell, I sort of never want to know as it will ruin every single thing I have worked so hard to archive, but it is fun to comb through the different canons! Of course, it is likely any of this can be tossed out or considered non-canon in the blink of an eye because Sam & Max always loves to give a middle finger to character details if they don't affect the main plot & likely a lot of these are mere gags. The Commissioner is phone, and always will be only phone. However, it's always in my best interest to try to find ANYTHING to push back the curtain even the tiniest inch, and I hope my efforts were worth it. Now, to sign off, just press that phone! You got it, you got it! ☎️

#sam and max #sam & max #freelance police #the commissioner (sam & max)#if you sincerely read all of this... thank you. my god. thank you

82 notes · View notes

thisismynamenowxpoetry · 1 year ago

Text

ATTENTION GEN Z, I know we hate poetry, but please, if you've ever felt alone, or hated technology, or hated Gen Alpha, please read this, repost, do whatever, but please, this was written for all of you <3

The news this morning

Was talking about how we go to Chat GPT

For therapy

And advice

And my mother said it’s just because we don’t know how

To communicate face to face

When why should we?

You shoved an iPad into our faces

The second we were old enough to comprehend it

You put on the TV

And we believed the characters were speaking live

And they could see us

Through those pixels

Why shouldn’t we turn to a computer

To give us answers

When it’s that that gave us the issues to begin with?

Why shouldn’t we

Chat with a computer

About nothing and everything

When it is that

That made us feel so isolated?

People wonder

Why we’re so concerned about Gen Alpha

And it’s obvious

When we think about it

It’s not because they’re growing up too fast

It’s because we know what it’s like

To have wires shoved into our veins

And now

Now they were born with them

Already pulsing through their blood

We don’t want them to make the same mistakes we did

But I think it’s too late,

They’re already turning into what we don’t want

Anyone

To ever be

And it’s scary to watch,

We know what technology has done to us

And we don’t want to watch anyone else

Succumb to it like we did

We are the last generation

Who went outside to play

And know what birds sound like

And wish to break their phones

We are the last generation

That will ever

Ever

Have a normal childhood

Now we can just watch

As the depression rates get higher

And more young children know what suicide is

Too early

And learn how to self harm

And lose their innocence

And be scared of men

And not care for dolls

We are scared of them

But we’re scared for them

Of course we turn to AI to talk to

Our parents don’t get it,

They can barely find opening hours for a shop,

While we can find a 10-step guide on how to murder,

Or build a bomb,

And guides on how to manipulate your body

And everything is at our fingertips

This is generational trauma that they have created

We can watch someone shooting their brains out

And we can receive photos from anyone

And why do we know what everything we shouldn’t worry about is?

We had COVID

And we turned to screens

And went on TikTok

And created trends

And it felt like a community

Until everyone was there

And we couldn’t do anything

And we got addicted

And we can’t turn back

We started with chat rooms

And we found like minded-people

And it was always “sweetie, be careful of creeps on the internet”

And now it’s just

“Be in bed by 10”

But we’ll keep scrolling

And we all have friends who live half the world away

And if you mention that

Someone has to ask if you’ve called yet

And “have you seen their face?”

We can look at anything

There are guides for everything

We know where Kim K was two minutes ago

And why do I feel pressure to always have something on my story?

We talk to robots

Because no adults will ever know

How sick we feel

Before we go on our phones

No adults can know

How we’ve seen every scar

And depression become a trend

And we have to use the hashtag actuallyautistc

No adults will know

How there are video essays on anything

And we shouldn’t know about everyone that has been raped

Or murdered

And we shouldn’t have wikihow

On how to be attractive

It started as a joke,

How stupid is this thing I found?,

But we keep reading it

And we start to believe it

Why would we read books?

Technology is constantly advancing

Everything is irrelevant in months

And we must be careful not to be cancelled

And a dress can divide a nation

We don’t want to watch Gen Alpha

Leap so blindy into their screens

Trusting what they read,

We want to keep it for us,

We have to live with it,

And as much as they suck,

It is our fault for staying

And posting everything

We are a sad generation with happy pictures

And a face full of makeup

And we’re just perpetuating stereotypes

And you can’t like something unless you’re obsessed

We can know the cure for any medical condition

But there is no guide on how to destory our screens

And lives

And I know I’m fifteen

But this is ruining mine,

And so many others' lives.

We don’t want to see little kids

On their mums phones

And my mother defends it,

Saying mums just need a minute to breathe,

But please

Anything else

I don’t want to see a baby already addicted to CocoMelon

We don’t want to see

More people falling into a hole

And we know it’s why we’re sad

But nobody else should have to go through it,

That’s for us,

That’s an us problem

I saw a six year old

Using Drunk Elephant

And swearing in her GRWM

And none of that is fair,

How are we letting this slide?

But we can’t do anything

Because we don’t want to admit there’s a problem

We can learn anything about Hitler

And anything about Meryl Streep

And it can be within the same two fucking clicks

I remember

When my age on TikTok clocked over to 15

A few days before my actual birthday

And it was then

That all I saw was suicide notes,

And self harm scars

And how to hide things from your parents guides

And abuse stories

There was no going back,

Every other person whose a teenage girl on the app

Is probably met with the same things as me

The algorithm

Is designed to show you a positive video

Every few scrolls

Just to keep you hooked,

And it works,

It’s a science,

It works to a T

We can know where any friend is

And read receipts plague us

And anything will be screenshot

And used against you

School thought taking away our phones

Would fix this,

Like it’s a magical cure,

When all it’s teaching us

Is how addicted we are,

And how best to hide an earbud

And we need music to concentrate!

Or course we do,

We have constant stimulation

It is never quiet

There is always a voice talking

We are getting mad at kids for being on a phone

When we all know

We’re just mad that it is actually happening

And we can’t warn them

And no one will listen

Because how could it be that bad?

In ten years

People who grew up with technology

Are going to end up with something like PTSD

Because we can’t let go of it

We can’t put it down,

We can get an essay written for us in seconds,

And Dall-E can make anything for us

So of course we’ll talk to AI,

It’s better than talking to a real person

And acting like we’re okay,

We’d rather sit behind a screen

And control sims

And listen to music

So we can’t hear our minds

Every time I scroll through

I’m met with tales of girls who get killed by their fathers,

Every time I scroll through

I’m showen another 7 second video

With sad litte text

On sad little faces

We want to escape,

We want to tear our veins out,

Rip the wires,

Shove them back in to our body

After we re-wire our brains,

Of course,

Because we can diagnose ourselfs with any mental illness

That we see fit

Because there has to be something wrong with you

We will never go back,

It is impossible

We have Whispers from Pinterest

And sad purple quotes

Lining our camera roll

Which should highlight our happy moments

But is just videos of us crying

It has ruined relationships,

How dare we follow another guy,

How dare he like another girl's photo?

We have our music right there

We don’t have to learn lyrics,

We can play any instrument,

We must like Taylor Swift,

We must have Kanye West

Everything is a trend

And your clothes must match your aesthetic

And you have to be funny

Or smart

Or creative

And how dare we burn out?

How dare we burn out

When if we didn’t rot in our beds

Scrolling aimlessly

Would solve half our problems?

There is no fix now,

We have to watch them grow up

Knowing they’ll ask what this-big-word is

Before they’re even five

Because an ad came up on mummy’s phone

And “what’s a vape?”

And “am I fat?”

All we can do now

Is listen to our sad songs

And act like social media

Didn’t ruin our perceptions

On everything.

43 notes · View notes

alexanderflowerbird · 1 month ago

Text

DAY 17 A good weekend, but not a great weekend for writing lol I was SO busy. I did get a lot done though, I spent some wonderful time with my sister and my niece, I managed to organize my storage unit [I did all the work of going through what I wanted to keep vs what I wanted to throw away only to discover they don't have dumpsters on the property so... that's a problem to tackle another day], I went to the library and picked up some new books, I spent time with many people I love and I got some really cool new pens in the mail. I figured out some more characters for Blood Sun Territory, and I think I have the skeleton of the story all ironed out and ready to go. Back on the horse this coming week! I'm only 8k away from the month goal of 30K, but I'm hoping to over shoot it simply because I'm having a good time writing. But I have an excerpt for you, even if this weekend I've been away from my computer doing in the world things. It's a short little excerpt, just Dolcezza and Malachi talking about an interesting plant and the challenges of the territory and it's ever changing ecosystem. I know how their gonna travel, and more excitingly, I've figured out the little ways in which they begin to fall in love. Teeheheheheheee love making my barbies kiss. Taglist: @theskeletonprior @thelittlestspider @badscientist @tragedycoded If you'd like to be part of my taglist, please interact with this post

Malachi has never seen anything like it. Of course it is possible that he simply isn’t worldly enough, that this sort of enormous blooming cactus could be found outside of the territory existing as it is for a thousand years, sacred and well known to some, foreign and strange to others like him. He grew up in the sterility of the suburbs and grew into something of a city boy, so maybe it’s not this place that’s manifested this odd, entrancing flora, but nature itself and its unending creativity. He starts moving towards it and Dolcezza looks up in time to deter him.

“Don’t you go over there.” He warns, stooping to pick up a rock that barely fits in his fist. “We all learn the land together, some things get learned the hard way. I’ll spare you that. Pretty, ain’t it?” He says, also looking out on the bulbous, many bodied cactus, its enormous spines reaching out from between hundreds of blue and purple flowers. Dolcezza throws the rock hard and when it hits the cactus, there is a meaty thud followed by the woosh of wings, the flowers dispersing in a burst, fluttering in a swarm. Malachi gasps. They aren’t flowers at all, but insects, their wings perfect emulations of petaled flowers. The cactus’ spines react too, and about a dozen of them fire off from the cactus, launching a few feet before impaling the earth. The swarm divides into masses, fluttering towards the launched spines, but when they seem to find nothing of interest pinned by those deadly barbs, they gather upon the cactus again, settling gently, renewing its beauty from deadly and hostile to elegantly floral.

“Those butterflies like blood, they hang round the cactus cuz once it shoots somethin’ they can drink up the blood spilt and feed on the kill. They are gorgeous, but most shit out here that might draw ya in with its prettiness is more trouble than it’s worth.”

“How’d you find that out?”

“Like I told ya. The hard way. Some horticulturalist fella hired me years back, wanted to study out here and see if any of the new plants had medicinal potential or what have you. Got one of them spikes right through his gut trying to collect the butterflies for study. We both thought they were flowers, at the time.”

“Did he die?” Malachi asks, reflexively pressing his hand over his stomach in a sympathetic jolt of discomfort. He could’ve taken one of those spikes to the gut too, if Dolcezza hadn’t stopped him.

“Nah, he had a rough time of it though. Doctor in town has seen more than a war medic by now; before the blood sun most she’d get up to is curing colds, delivering babies- now she’s got much more to do than that any given day.”

#blood sun territory #fuck nano update #original story #writeblr #queer fiction

4 notes · View notes

thathartleykat · 1 year ago

Text

A very lengthy letter before the series' departure.

Hey, everyone, Hartley here.

By June of 2023, it would be my 4th year in the Hilda community, and i'm still in disbelief that i've been active in the community for this long, as well as the animated series is coming to an end tomorrow.

I have been wanting to post this since then, but i've been extremely busy in my life, as well as my personal computer was broken for almost an entire year - hence why my activity in the community also got died down a little bit.

I have a lot of things to say to everyone, from people in the community to the people who worked on the show, as well as the past, present and future, so for the convenience of your reading, i'll divide what i want to say into chapters.

I. About me & how i got into the show ( Trigger warning: Deaths ) I've rarely talked about this to anyone, but... I live by myself, and there's a good chance i might not be around for much longer. It's sort of the reason why i got into Hilda from the first place.

I first found out about Hilda in October 2018 when i was browsing on Tumblr, but never really watched it until May 2019, when a friend of mine gave me a month free subscription of Netflix. I started to go down the list of things i wanted to watch on the platform, and when it came to Hilda, i never thought i would get fixated on the show. Well, guess where we're at now?

I was stunned by the show's colorful vibes, amazing plot writing and how the show built the characters and mythologies, especially how they portrayed the mentality of the children in the show when the kids interact with each other or with adults.

The one thing that i also extremely adore in the show is the relationship between Hilda and Johanna... because it deeply reminds me of my parents when they were still alive. I had a similar life and relationship with them. Every time i see Hilda and her mum together, it always makes me remember about my former childhood life, how kind my parents were to me, and how i wanted to be the adventurous kid that never disappoints them.

I had a pretty good life until my parents got cancer when i was 11 years old - the same age with Hilda in first & possibly second season. Things got worse since then, and they passed away a few years after that.

Now i'm pretty much alone, with a good chance that i might follow them, so if i ever just disappear without telling anything, well... at least i had a good run, i never thought i'd make it this far anyway.

The show had made a significant change on my life, as well as some of my future decisions and helped me through hard times.

It would be an understatement to say this series meant a lot for me.

Because of this, and the feeling of the show doesn't get enough attention that it deserves, i've been dedicating myself for the last few years to help the show and its community thrive.

II. About the animated series Sometimes, i feel really sad that they couldn't have done more for it. - As someone who lives in Vietnam, it's really sad to see the show lacks Vietnamese subtitles and audio language - despite there being a huge number of Netflix users in the country. Due to this, the series basically got hidden from anyone who's watching with their Netflix's interface language set to Vietnamese, which makes the show really hard to be recommended to anyone here. At the same time, many other animated series on the platform have either or both of those. - A lot of merchandise of the franchise has either never saw the day or short-lived. Hilda's GUND plushies only lived for 1.5 years, and by my count, there were 3 Hilda board games that got reported to the news, but never got released. - Hilda video games. The only official Hilda game we ever got was Hilda Creatures, and sadly, the company that made the game went defunct in April 2022, dragging Hilda Creatures along with it. - Netflix. Batch releasing the show and giving it the bare minimum marketing. The same thing happened with Jojo and we all know what happened to its hype. - The mishandling of social media pages, which led to Hilda's Facebook page got hacked for an entire month during May 2023, as well as a lack of interaction posts after season 1 to keep the community up.

I really wish the show got better treatment in a lot of stuff, but at the same time, i'm grateful for the crew's work to get the series this far. One of the directors at one point confirmed that the show got pitched to various networks like Cartoon Network, Disney, Children BBC, Nick... and no one accepted the show until Netflix came along. If Netflix never took the show in, or if it was another network that got it ( which i suspect it'd change the direction of the show by a lot ), where would we be now...?

Though the show will definitely not be reminded by Netflix every now and then as other networks do, but at least it is going out with a bang. Really wish the show would become a sleeper hit at some point in the future.

III. About the community Genuinely, it's one of the most amazing communities i've ever been in. People who are younger, same age, or even parents who are much older than me... I had amazing experiences with all of them. I've made many friends from here, which sometimes makes me wish our community would stay the same like this forever after the series ends.

Honestly, i don't know what else i could say about everyone, other than thanking you guys for making my days within the community, as well as your efforts in making it an amazing place for me and everyone else to stay in.

IV. About the future Well, i've been thinking about it quite a lot.

After the animated series ends, i'll try my best to continue sticking around in the community and do a lot more stuff for it. The franchise will still seem to continue for at least some more time, with the upcoming release of the new prequel Hilda comic series, "Hilda and Twig".

I'd be selfish for saying this, but if the current state of animations improves in the future... I'd want to see Hilda's world return as animation at some point - either following the same blue-haired girl that we all know and love, or just a spin-off from an entirely different character. It's hard to imagine how the worldbuilding we've seen in the last 12 years, where "there's so much we've never seen, so much we don't know" and "there's mystery everywhere you look" would potentially disappear after this... I really hope i would see it again, as well as be around long enough to see it.

As of now, this chapter is about to come to an end. So before it does, i want to say thanks to everyone who has been involved in this show.

Thank you Luke Pearson, the people who made Hilda the series possible, and especially - you. Whether you worked on it or are just simply a fan of the show, you have my sincere gratitude for all the great things that happened to the series in the last 4 years.

This is Hartley, and i hope everyone enjoys Season 3.

#hilda #hilda the series #hilda netflix #cartoon #netflix #hilda comic #comic #animation

17 notes · View notes

rileychester · 2 years ago

Text

I wonder if the reason that Fred, Joan, and the rest of the Thursdays aren’t mention in Morse are not just because either they haven’t been invented, since they are an Endeavour character invention. Or because of a horrible fall out or death.

But simply because that happens in life.

I’m sure we all have people in our life that we love and are/were like family, but that we barely see or talk to anymore.

Look at Lewis and Morse, Lewis was like a son to Morse, the same relationship that Morse had with Thursday. But Lewis was a married man with children and even though Lewis and Morse were close and cared for each other deeply. Lewis was still a family man first and foremost. He had responsibilities and connections outside of Morse and often Morse was on his own with his booze, crosswords, and records.

Yes, in many ways the Thursdays are family to Morse. But they have Sam to focus on now, whose going through his own crisis. Jim is marrying Joan and becoming an actual son-in-law. It also looks like Jim and Fred get along well and interact well as future in-laws, so that does change Morse and Fred’s dynamic a bit. Since Fred has both a blood son and a son-in-law to interact with now. Morse will always be important and like a son to Fred, but he will have male family members to have solid relationships with now.

Their priorities are shifting, suddenly their daughter is settled with a nice bloke who they both like and respect. And their son needs them to focus on him and what he’s going through. The Thursday’s marriage has suffered sometimes because Fred would focus on Morse before his family. Win might have put her foot down and reminded him that he had a family who needed him too? So Fred decides his family over Morse if he can’t have them both in the same way?

With Joan and Jim, they are going to be married and being a newlywed couple doing newlywed couple things such as romantic moments, learning to keep house, spending time with other couple/married friends. Jim has his mason duties, they both have work, Jim will be moving up in the ranks over Morse. They might end up having children and then they will be busy with having kids, wanting to spend time with other people who have kids as couples often do.

Plus this is Morse we are talking about, he still calls Joan, Miss Thursday even after asking her to marry him and all they have been though. She’s marrying his friend Jim Strange who Morse likes, respects, and Jim has been a good friend to Morse. A gentlemen like Morse would never do anything to mess with the relationship between Jim and Joan, they would be married and he would be respectful of that. Morse would consider that a road not traveled and probably drawl a line in the sand.

He would probably remain their friend, but the relationships would change and Morse is the type to let the awkwardness fester and the divides to grow. It’s not like they were going out for drinks and dinner before hand. I’m sure Morse would hang out every so often with them and come to the odd holiday dinner. But I think Morse being Morse would separate himself from them because they are a new family unit and he’s the odd duck out.

#endeavour morse #endeavour #itv endeavour #endeavour itv #endeavour series 9

14 notes · View notes

the-firebird69 · 1 month ago

Text

Collision - Trailer HD (2014) - Action Thriller Movie

youtube

They can't seem to get their s*** together but eventually they do we are watching them all the time. We see our son and daughter say it we hv them but don't know the stories yet true they do it planned it with the psuedo empire and empire are enemies yes hate each other but Thier system ok.

They're going out to Spain to Morocco and they're going to fight each other it's kind of a weird deal I think Tommy is with Sarah and the idiot comes out and hits them with a Lincoln the cars get reversed tell me you have to start fighting them again and it goes on for a while it comes out to the city and it's really a 2013 movie and the year is significant and was hidden. Gets hit bG gets hit in a van to blame him and Stefan hits him in Belgium as a reward and his wife sister they don't really deserve it as Trump is very mean and he deserves what he gets coming and BG gets out of that but does a lot of harm to him by getting hit in the van this guy suffers big time and he falls for stuff so his character dies and he's some sort of oil lawyer for real as Merrick and he's been threatening our daughter and son to acquire oil it's on the f is interfering with it and with the character down and fighting cheesman he is beginning to feel for New Zealand and starting a war down there with him and he's winning cuz the idiot doesn't have shifts and he's not trying to get chips and he thinks he has the program and he doesn't so what we need to get rid of him. Such a crazy movie it's insanity they are divided like crazy and useless as hell and threatening us and our people more than anything else indicating what they're planning to do constantly and they think they're a good footing I mean they're f****** nuts and we're going to take their ships wipe out their cities and blame them and use false flag and we have to absolutely have to and we're looking for people to volunteer for that service we have a lot we could use as many as we can get because we'll take ships from elsewhere if we have enough right now we don't have the number we want.

-this rolls into a few other things at same time which is Thanksgiving and then the 27th which is Camilla and her journey to be reunited and Dolores and her journey to be reunited and our son is upset his mom was injured and hurt for so long and couldn't heal because of Kamala and he says she's a giant and a mutant abilities are way up there and they both got a little excited and they tested it and it kind of worked a little and they started to feed a little different and it works and she's feeling a little and needed it and the privacycles are awful Prilosec she's worked in the cure and it helps her but really she just barely made it all the time it was horrible and these idiots do at our son and we're going to crush them and the guy gets out in his character is gone and they're fighting over it and they put him in a casket with Sarah and said that Mr Merrick is dead. And I send a daughter will be very happy that takes a while for it to stick finally and they go ahead on the 27th there's a period of fighting and it is in Massachusetts over the area and it is in the Detroit over the ship above that it switches to Utah with dumb and dumber and we think they lose her dumb and dumber To happens but in the interim when she is out and even Kamala doesn't want our son to get stuff now that's not true. But she wasn't necessarily wanting to get things from Arnie as kind of sacrilege and it's kind of clan stuff

So she's out and that's one of the major components out of the way of trump and his son Dan the evil idiots

Thor Freya

Olympus

#Youtube

0 notes

veritywarner90 · 1 year ago

Text

Self-determination is about undermining whitefella institutions, judiciaries, organisations and bureaucracies.

Self-determination is about enculturated white people who, on the strength of what may be a mere speck of indigenous DNA, now identify exclusively as Aboriginal, thereby giving themselves an economic and social leg-up.For the activist cadre it always was and always will be about money, power and control, all underlined by the notion that members of one race enjoy a preeminent ascendency over all other Australians.More examples of ‘self-determination’ can be found in the ban on climbing Ayers Rock (Uluru), Mt Warning (Wollumbin), Mt Gillen, and many Grampians climbs, all for ill-defined or unexplained ‘cultural’ reasons’.After much outcry, consideration is now being given to re-opening the Mt Warning climb, but only for those who pay a fee and are escorted by indigenous guides. More rent-seeking, what a surprise!Australian place names are also rapidly being overwritten with (most likely made-up) Aboriginal names (eg: K’gari, once known as Fraser Island).All of this is about claims to ownership, to ‘sovereignty’.These changes should not be mistaken for deference to Aboriginal culture; it’s no more nor less than an insidious takeover.What we are experiencing here is cultural guerrilla warfare, the picking off one target after the other.Don’t believe it? Look no further that what has happened in New Zealand.The Voice:Self-determination is not about ‘closing the gap’, nor Aborigines ‘having a voice’ – all of that can be achieved without a change to the Constitution. Indeed, the $35+ billion currently spent on Aboriginal affairs and the eleven plus current Aboriginal members of parliament are more than enough to fulfil both aims.The Voice referendum is purely and simply about the drive towards Aboriginal sovereignty, which can only be achieved by changing the nation’s foundational document and charter.Under the Albanese government, self-determination means the coming referendum, whose barely concealed intention is to divide Australia along lines of race. …What is hiding in plain sight is the Albanese government’s intention to de-facto fund and promote the ‘Yes’ campaign whilst hamstringing ‘No’ advocates. Anything the No campaign says can and will be construed as “misinformation”. We have seen this already with the appalling attacks by Noel Pearson and Marcia Langton’s on Jacinta Price.Brace for much more of that – and wonder, too, if the bile and attempts at character assassination are a foretaste of an empowered Voice? …Meanwhile, Australians are subjected to a daily and massive pro Yes propaganda barrage by the taxpayer-funded ABC and SBS.Remote Aboriginal Australians are unfortunate mascots in a power struggle among the white majority.The Voice is just the latest attempt by the left-bureaucratic class to get more control and further exploit the rest of us.Dr David Barton is a proud Celtic and Anglo-Saxon man with a long generational family history in Australia. He lives in Central Victoria.

Read more articles at:

https://veritywarner90.wordpress.com

0 notes

holylulusworld · 3 years ago

Text

Seasons in the sun

This is my entry for @little-diable’s Four Seasons Challenge: 1. Spring: Dean Winchester. 2. Summer: outbreak of an apocalypse 3. Autumn: thunderstorm 4. Winter: Destruction

Summary: Dean and you finally settled for a peaceful life when the unthinkable happens. An apocalypse devasting half of the planet.

Pairing: Endverse!Dean x Wife!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Claire Novak

Warnings: angst, language, dystopian world, mentions of death, violence, blood, sadness, zombie apocalypse, fluff

A/N: I used the seasons in more than one way. Spring is the old life with Dean. In summer the apocalypse happens. In Autumn a thunderstorm is coming. And winter brings more destruction.

Words: 3,2 k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

March 21st, 2020

Spring came earlier this year. For many reasons.

After years of hunting and struggling to survive, Dean and you finally settled down. You got a nice house, a white picket fence, and even talked about having children one day. Dean and you couldn’t be happier.

You got married half a year ago. Only your best friends and Sam were by your side. It was a nice ceremony at a small church. Nothing special. Nothing wild. Just you and the man you love promising to give your all to each other.

“Sweetheart, I got another paycheck,” Dean waltzes into the living room. A big grin on his face. “We are going to eat like rich people tonight.”

“Dean,” you giggle at his playful mood but shake your head no. “I already cooked, babe. How about we spare the money and buy nice things for our house.”

“Like that comfy armchair I always dreamed of?” he teases. “You know the kind of armchair offering space for the both of us. We could cuddle in front of the fireplace and do stuff.”

“Do stuff,” you pat his chest. “Don’t hurt yourself, Mr. Winchester. You can get cuddles without that armchair. Just name the time and the place,” his green eyes sparkle when your hand slides down his chest.

“Here and now, Mrs. Winchester,” your husband smirks. “I will cuddle you aggressively.”

“Here and now, it is…” you get thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, squealing as he carries you upstairs. “Dean, let me down! Dean!”

“No way, Y/N. I will never let you down…never…”

June 15th, 2020

Summer brings unbearable heat, new neighbors, and a sexy view.

While Dean works on his car, upper body bare, and too-tight blue jeans on his hips, you sip on a drink, watching him stick his ass out, shaking it to yet another song.

“Mr. Winchester, you look hot under the hood of your car,” you tease.

“What did you say, Mrs. Winchester?” he looks up from under the hood. “I guess you need my attention.” Your eyes roam his sweaty chest as he suddenly turns his attention toward you, not his car. You can already see the hunger in his eyes and fear, the neighbors will complain once again. “Dean! NO!”

He drops the tool in his hand to run toward your chair, making you giggle as you jump up to go for a run. “I’m going to catch you, sweetheart…”

“No! The neighbors! Dean!”

After a short race, Dean tackles you. Both of you end up on the grass. “Gotcha, babe.” He kisses you softly. “I got the week off. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” as you run your fingers through his sweaty hair you try to think about anything but the dirty images coming to your mind. “Something dirty…or sweet.”

“We can do both,” Dean kisses you again, moaning as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Yeah, I will go for both.”

July 2nd, 2020

June barely turned into July when bad news cloud your sky…

“Dean, why is there a crowbar in your hands?” you ask when Dean enters your bedroom. “Baby?”

“Did you hear the news today?” you look up at your husband, frowning as he looks scared and confused. He frowns deeply as he checks yet another message from his brother. “Sammy said he will come around. Something is wrong…terribly wrong.”

“What do you mean?” your heart starts to race as Dean uses the crowbar in his hands to remove the loose deck boards to get your hunting equipment out. You decided to never hunt again but kept all your weapons. Better safe than sorry... “Dean? What’s going on?”

“Sam said something about people eating people. And I do not mean a werewolf killing someone in the shadows. I mean his neighbor ripped his wife’s throat out, Y/N. I don’t know what’s going on, but it is bad,” you are out of the bed to help Dean remove the deck boards seconds later. “You still got those packed bags, right?”

“Always ready to run again, Dean,” you sniff as your eyes land on the bags with guns. “Does Sam know why?”

“No. He was on his way to us,” Dean explains as you get the bags out. “You should get dressed. Pack up one or two more bags. Light package, sweetheart. Only necessary things.”

“Got it,” you jump up to hastily get dressed. You wear jeans, a tank top, and flannel – your hunter uniform once again. “What do you need?”

“Clothes, hunter style, Y/N. I will get the Impala ready and dad’s truck. I’m not sure if we will need more than one car,” your husband places the bags with guns onto the bed, unzipping one to get a shotgun out. “No matter what happens, stay up here and be ready.”

“Dean, we don’t even know what’s going on,” you try to calm your husband. “Maybe it’s a local problem. Only as people freaked out in California doesn’t mean they will do so here too.”

“I know but,” he stops in his tracks, turns around to cup your cheek, “better safe than sorry. We will prepare everything and maybe, we will laugh about it later…”

“Fuck, that was a close call,” Sam stumbles into your house, a scared Claire in tow. “Lock the doors and windows.”

“Sam, fuck what happened?” you slam the door shut, locking it. “Sammy?”

Your brother-in-law looks like he fought his way out of hell once again. His face, arms, and hands are caked with dirt and blood.

“Sammy, what happened?” Dean shoves a heavy commode in front of the door, huffing as he can hear screams outside of the house. “Shit, it’s happening here too.”

“I was on my way back home, ya know,” Sam frantically runs his fingers through his dirty hair. “Suddenly someone jumped at the woman walking behind me. It was my neighbor. He-he ripped her throat out with his teeth, looking like one of the zombies in the movies you liked so much, Dean.”

“Same,” Claire sniffs, looking at you. “I was in town to visit Sam. Right when I left my car someone jumped at me. I had my gun and shot his leg, but he just got back up. I shot his heart, thrice and he didn’t stop.”

“Head. You always aim for the head,” Dean laughs, shaking his head. “This must be a cosmic joke, right? There is no way a zombie apocalypse is going on out there, right in front of my house!” he jerks his head toward the windows. “Shit, the windows.”

“Got it,” you run toward the living room to get the remote control for the automatic rolling shutters. “I will close them.”

“Dean, war is going on out there,” Sam runs his hand down his face. “If you get bitten, you turn into one of them.”

“I got that. I’m an expert for zombie movies, bitch,” he looks at his brother, shaking his head. “Has this something to do with the Croatoan virus? Is it that? Years after we defeated Lucifer they try again?”

“It’s not like back then, Dean,” you stumble back toward Dean, scared to lose your home and life once again. “Honestly, this looks more like a horror movie than some demon’s plan.”

October 12th, 2020

Three months later you try to navigate your new life. Autumn has come and you barely remember the days before everything went downhill.

Now you sit in front of your fireplace, staring at the ash of the last wood you burned a few days ago. Electricity doesn’t work anymore, just like the heating. You are stuck at your house with Dean, Sam, and Claire and, food is rare.

“We can’t stay here forever. They almost broke through that door two nights ago, and we are running out of food sooner or later. Our storage is almost empty,” Dean looks at you, sighing deeply. “What if we try to make it to the bunker?”

“Dean, that’s impossible. We won’t make it that far,” you argue, not wanting to leave your home. “If we try to leave, they are going to rip us apart.”

“That is enough,” Dean jumps up from the armchair to glare at you.

Over the last weeks, he got more and more aggressive. Being stuck at the house gets a toll on him and he started to treat you like liability, not his wife. He’s focused on anything but how you feel and slowly, you don’t recognize the man you love anymore.

“I hate to agree with Dean, but we can’t stay here, Y/N. We got not much food left. The bunker is our best chance to survive,” Sam sides with his brother, of course, he does. “Maybe we find more survivors on our way too.”

“We got no food at the bunker either, Sammy.”

“Uh—do you remember my trips to get parts for the truck?” Dean sheepishly looks at you. “I kinda visited the bunker. I got a storage full of water bottles, cans, and other stuff.”

“So, when you left for days you visited the bunker to take your time to reminisce about 'the old days and ways,” arms crossed over your chest you glare at Dean. “You lied to me repeatedly?”

“Can you shut up for one moment?” you flinch at Dean’s harsh tone. He didn’t treat you like that since he lost the Mark of Cain. “I’m trying to keep us all alive once again. If you want to stay here, fine. Let those rotten bastards eat you alive, sweetheart.”

“If we want to go, we should do it now,” Dean sits next to you on your bed. “I know you want to stay, but we got food for a week left. We should use it wisely and try to make it to the bunker.”

“Fine,” you are too tired and emotionally drained for another fight. It’s been two more weeks since Dean first brought up the bunker. “I got everything packed up till morning. Just tell me when to jump, and I do so.”

“Sweetheart, I…” for a moment Dean’s features soften, but you can see the change in his eyes. Something about this apocalypse brought back the more raw and deadly side of your husband.

“What will we do? What’s the plan?”

“Sammy and I will sneak into the garage, store the weapons and all we will need into the trunks of our cars. We will give you a sign to follow us and then, we’ll get the hell out of town,” Dean recites the plan Sam and he made. “Everything will be alright.”

“No, it won’t,” you huff. “Our life is over, Dean. We will never see our children run around the garden, and we will never grow old together. “We will fight to survive, or over food for the rest of our lives and there will be no more happiness or laughter.”

“I promise to bring you to the bunker, safe and sound,” you believe Dean, but hate to see a hunter and deadly fighter in front of you, not your loving husband.

“I know,” is all you reply before turning to get up and pack a few more things. “Claire and I will be ready tomorrow.”

“Y/N, tell me if you need my help,” he’s halfway out of the bedroom before you hear him sigh. “I still love you; you know.”

“I love you too,” it’s more a reflex than a reciprocated feeling. You feel hollow and sad, all the while you want to scream and kill all the monsters out there.

“I’ll be right back. We should get some sleep tonight. Sammy will take the first shift, Claire is next and so on,” nodding you look at your wedding picture on your nightstand. “Y/N we need to stay sharp…”

“Done?” Dean returns a few hours later, looking tired and exhausted. “We prepared everything.”

“Okay,” you stand in front of the window, glance outside to see more of your neighbors roam the area. “There are so many of them, Dean. How shall we get through the masses?”

“We prepared the cars over the last weeks, Y/N. Sammy and I secured the windows, the windshield, and the rear window using everything we could find. No one is going to stop us,” you flinch when lightning illuminates the night sky, thunder roars in the distance and you gasp as the zombies stop in their tracks to look up at the sky.

The brainless monsters seem to be mesmerized by the approaching and you feel hope bloom in your chest. “That’s odd,” Dean joins you on the window, frowning as the zombies still watch the lightning. “Maybe that’s a chance, Dean. If we can distract them…”

“…we can get away without a fight,” you nod. “I’ll check the bags. I think I got a flare gun. We shoot them into the sky, enter the cars and speed off before they turn their attention back toward fresh meat.”

“It’s a chance,” you whisper as you watch the zombies start to walk around the area again. Most of them are your former neighbors. You couldn’t save one of them. The moment Sam and Claire entered your house, all hell broke loose outside your home.

The thunderstorm continued, delaying your departure for another day and another sleepless night. You couldn’t risk leaving the house and getting into a storm, ending up trapped in your cars.

“We can make it, okay,” Dean grounds his teeth together, hating you look scared and unsure. He must be the leader now, the hard-ass hunter he used to be before you got out of this life. “Claire, Y/N, you will wait here. I will whistle when we are done.”

“Got it,” you tighten the hold on your gun, swallowing thickly as Dean and Sam run toward the garage to get the cars ready.

“I’m scared, Y/N,” Claire whispers, not wanting the brothers to hear she’s scared. “We barely made it last time.”

“I know but,” you nod as you hear Dean whistle, “we got to get out of here…” and then you grasp for Claire’s hand to run toward the garage. Your hunter instinct kicks in, and you feel the adrenaline pump through your veins when you jump into the Impala.

“Claire, into the truck with Sammy. Get the shotgun, but don’t shoot if it’s not necessary,” Dean instructs. “I will shoot out of the window and distract them long enough with the flare gun for Sammy to break through the garage door with the truck. Sweetheart, you need to start the engine for me.”

“Got it.”

Everything happens so fast. Dean uses the flare gun to distract the undead. Sam breaks through the garage door with the truck while Dean races back to the garage, jumping into the car to follow his brother on the road.

Now the home you created will never get to know the children you will never have…

December 22nd, 2020

Being on the road never was a problem to you. Until zombies began to roam the world and block any road you could take to reach the bunker.

Winter always made you feel happy, and giddy for Christmas. Now all you feel is sadness, hopelessness as you face the destruction the undead left everywhere you go.

“We will make it,” Dean runs his hand over his beard. “I know we had hoped to reach Lebanon much sooner.”

“We will make it,” you’re too tired to tell Dean it’s been almost two months since you left your house to go back to the bunker. “It’s just…there are so many of them only the four of us.”

“Don’t give up just yet,” he sighs again, eyes as tired as yours as he looks at the map you found at a service station. “We are close, sweetheart.”

You give Dean a weak smile but turn your head to look out of the window. You are driving through a nameless town, roamed by an army of the dead. They are slow but, too many of them can easily rip you apart.

“So much destruction,” you nod at Dean’s comment, hoping and praying the bunker is still intact and that not one of the monsters made it inside. “Looks like someone burned the whole town down.”

“A bomb maybe?” glancing at the destroyed houses you pass by you frown deeply, wondering if anyone made it out alive out of this town. “Before or after they ran the town over?”

“Military, maybe. I don’t know,” he drives behind Sam’s truck. “Let’s stay sharp and keep an eye on the dead. We don’t want to end up as their latest meal. Not so close to our goal…”

December 24th, 2020

Coming home to the bunker and finding it intact is the best Christmas present you ever got.

You barely made it back to your former home. An endless stream of undead always hot on your heels you fought your way through the masses.

“Home sweet home,” you look at Claire, nodding as she falls to her knees, crying. “I’ve missed you, bunker.”

“We should check on the weapons, the security system, and the generators. Sammy, weapons. Y/N, check on the food, water, and everything else.

“Claire, you will help Y/N. Get the supplies we gathered on our way here and store them,” Dean barks orders at all of you. “Hurry, we need to lock the bunker.”

“It is already locked,” you sigh, rubbing your sore neck nervously. “I need sleep and if possible, a shower. Can we not just have some sleep. It’s been months since I slept more than two hours straight.”

“We need to stay sharp and not forget out there a zombie apocalypse is going on. Now stop arguing, Y/N.”

“Yes, Sir. Captain Winchester, Sir,” you sneer at Dean. “I did nothing else but follow orders for months. I suggest you find your own room for the night…”

“We got eight shotguns, fifteen handguns, and—” Dean sighs as you do not pretend to listen. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. You know I had to be like this to get us here.”

“We have enough food for around a year,” you yawn, eyes fluttering close. “If we do not waste too much food, maybe a little longer. I found some seeds at one of the stores we checked. We need potting soil, though.”

“I will try to get you some potting soil,” he sits on the bed next to you to run his hand over your back. “This is not the life I wanted, Y/N. You know it isn’t.”

“How long until we will need to leave this place to store up again?” you ask as Dean lies next to you. He allows himself to close his eyes, to get some much-needed sleep. “Dean?”

“I will try to find out if anyone is still alive out there,” he whispers. “We got a functional communication system. I hope Jody, Donna, and the other hunters made it out alive.”

“What if they did?” you roll to your side to face your husband. He looks tired and sad, as he opens his eyes again to look at you.

“We will tell them to come here and join forces with us,” he whispers. “And then, we will get our world back, sweetheart. I promised to give you a normal life, and I will be damned if I won’t keep that promise…”

Tags in reblog.

#Seasons in the sun #little-diable 4seasons #dean winchester #endverse!dean #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #apocalypse au #Sam Winchester

121 notes · View notes

nebulousfishgills · 3 years ago

Text

In Reality

Request by @nosfera1 : hiiiii is your request open? i was wondering if i could ask for an angsty wanda x fem!r fic where they've been in a relationship for a year and r is absolutely head over heels with her. r planned their anniversary date and during that dinner wanda confesses that she's only been dating r to move on from her previous relationship the whole time and cant carry it in her conscience anymore? make it reaaally really heart wrenching as possible please. thank youuuuu

Ah, thank you so much for sending in your request!! (Yes, requests are open lol). I'm always excited to recieve a new request, especially for a character I have yet to write for!

I hope I get this the way you want! ❤

Warnings: Angst, feels, fluff (but like, fake?)

ฯฯฯ

"Wan, are you okay?" You asked, noticing your girlfriend looking a bit uncomfortable. Her hands were in her lap, her eyes staring at the table or the wall, and she seemed like she was zoning in and out. "Wanda?"

"What? Oh, yes, dear?" She asked, jerking up from looking at the muted paisley tablecloth.

"I was wondering if you were okay." You repeated.

"Yes, I'm alright, dear. Just a little tired is all." She said, showing her teeth in a smile that almost seemed forced. You chose to ignore it.

"I was going to say, but I didn't want to be rude." You said, chuckling.

"We've been together for a year, we can tell each other anything."

"I'm glad you feel that way."

The waiter brought your dishes not long after that, the thin veil of steam curling off the top of the Italian dishes you ordered. Your glasses were refilled and parmesan was grated on top of your meals.

You started nearly scarfing down your food, the wait having been a little too long without a breadstick refill. You watched Wanda gently cut through the meatballs on the top of her pasta, dividing them into quarters. The delicate movement entranced you for a moment, a bashful smile creeping onto your face.

To say you loved Wanda would be a severe understatement. The past year you had been together was the best year of your life. Before, you had been in a slump, everything seeming sad and dreary. You had been having a particularly bad day that day, as a matter of fact. You missed the bus in the morning, so you had to walk to work. Halfway through, it started raining buckets and you had no umbrella. You were lucky your boss was so understanding, else she would have reprimanded you for sure for being late. Still, the woman signed your paychecks; staying on her good side was in your best interest.

While pondering your latest excuse for being late to work again, it suddenly stopped raining.

No, someone was holding an umbrella over you.

That someone happened to be Wanda, offering her umbrella to you to shelter from the storm. You took one look at her and it was as if the color started to soak back into your previously grey world. Not only was this woman going out of her way to help you, she was beautiful as well.

Wanda held the umbrella over your head while you both walked to where you worked (she didn't mind in the slightest; she didn't have a set destination when she started walking). You told each other a few things about yourselves to pass the time. You were working at your current job until you could afford to move to a better part of the city. The apartment you lived in currently had a lot of small problems that would pop up every now and then that would take your savings. Your dishwasher had just broken and you needed to save up to get that replaced.

Wanda told you about things in her life, too. Her brother had died a few years ago in what she called a "tragic accident." Her last relationship had ended pretty suddenly more recently, so she took frequent walks to give herself something to do.

Suddenly your dishwashers woes seemed so nominal.

You arrived at the building you worked at and Wanda bid you goodbye. Though, not before passing you a small slip of paper with a few digits on it you recognized as a phone number. You went pink and walked into your office, sending a text to Wanda as soon as you sat down. You saw each other more frequently after that, going on your first date not long after.

And here Wanda was, sitting in front of you with her steaming pasta and quarter sliced meatballs. You ate your dinners in silence to start, the only noises between you two being the scratches of utensils on plates and quiet chewing.

After a few minutes, you noticed Wanda poking at her pasta with her fork. She hadn't eaten very much. Her chin rested on her other hand, the food on her plate starting to cool down.

"Wan, are you sure you're okay?" You asked. "You've barely eaten anything."

"I'm fine..." Wanda replied, letting out an exhale as if she were holding her breath. She put the fork down and rested her hand on the table.

"Wanda, it's okay. If something's bothering you, you can tell me." You said, resting your hand on top of hers. She took it, rolling your fingers in hers. She pulled her hand back and rested it in her lap, her other hand following suit. She took a breath.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?" She asked.

"Anything, Wan." You said. Wanda took in another breath and looked you in the eyes. That's how you knew she was getting dead serious with you.

"This isn't easy but... I can't keep holding it in. I can't do this anymore." She said.

"Can't do what?"

"This." She wagged her finger in between the two of you. Your breath hitched in your throat.

"What do you mean? You can't do--?" You asked, your voice cracking slightly.

"No, I can't." Wanda cut in. "Listen, Y/N, I'm telling you this now so I don't hurt you worse later on. I can't keep stringing you along."

"'Stringing me along?' Wanda, I don't understand. Don't you love me?"

"I... I... No. It's just..." Wanda bit her lip and averted her gaze from you.

"Just what? Something I did? What did I do, Wanda?"

"Nothing! You did nothing! It's not you, Y/N, it's just..."

"Wanda, are you joking? One year, Wanda! This is our one year anniversary and you're telling me this now??" You asked, the tears streaming down your face through your anger.

"I know, it's not ideal, but I couldn't find time to tell you before!"

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't? You're telling me you lied to me for a year, Wanda. Why?"

"Because I needed a distraction, okay? My last relationship ended badly and I was having a hard time getting over it. I thought you would... provide support until I could get back on my feet." Wanda admitted. Your face got hotter as the realization sunk in. Your voice got low as you continued speaking.

"You used me? You dated me to get over someone else? Is that all I was to you? Just a distraction? A plaything?" You growled.

"Y/N, you don't understand--"

"Oh, no, I understand plenty, Wanda." You stood up from your seat, throwing on your jacket and grabbing your handbag. You looked at the half empty water glass at your seat and picked it up. You examined the water inside for a moment, looking at Wanda over the rim. "I'd throw the water in your face right about now, but unlike you, I have standards on how people should be treated. Like a person with feelings and not something you use to play pretend with."

You downed the rest of the water and put the glass back on the table.

"Y/N--" Wanda said weakly, but you cut her off with a pinch of your fingers.

"Not another word, Wanda." You snapped, before turning around to walk away. "Don't even try to call me."

You burst out of the restaurant and sat down on one of the stone benches out front. You sent a quick text to your friend asking for a ride home, sending the address. Wanda had driven you here.

"What happened to your date?" Your friend asked.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Alright. I'm on my way."

You shut off your phone and stared up at the sky. Not a moment later, thunder rumbled above you and it started to rain.

You had no umbrella to cover you.

Finally, you allowed yourself to cry, your tears mixing with the rainwater that dripped onto your face. You let everything out, all the anger and sorrow until your throat went raw.

The headlights of your friend's car pierced through the wall of rain. You stood up and ran over, climbing inside of the heated car. You let out a sigh and leaned back against the seat.

"You okay?" Your friend asked. You didn't reply, just turned to look out the window, the raindrops gliding down it. As the car started pulling away, someone ran outside of the restaurant, screaming your name.

Wanda.

You looked at her as your friend pulled out of the parking lot. Wanda caught sight of you inside the car, watching you leave. You just stared back at her coldly as your friend whisked you away back home.

As soon as you got back to your apartment, you blocked Wanda's number and collapsed onto your sofa. Tears leaked down your face as you fell asleep.

ฯฯฯ

Hope you enjoyed this, nosfera!

As always, requests are open, so send them in!

#marvel #movies #avengers #wanda maximov #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximov x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #female reader #wanda x fem!reader #fishgills writing #writing request #my inbox is open

163 notes · View notes

ruby-whistler · 4 years ago

Text

a lot of people seem to have the attitude "he should've just let them had what they wanted!" when it comes to technoblade and dream both going against l'manberg, and absolutely no offense, but that seems... so awfully naive to me?

[ /dsmp /rp | the other reason why l'manberg deserved to fall ]

it looks like people automatically assume "what they wanted" was good, and that everything would've been fine if it wasn't for techno and dream being in the way. so let's look at what the leaders they fought against actually wanted, shall we?

let's start at the beginning, then.

wilbur (all names in this essay refer to the characters) made l'manberg after he failed to take control of the economy by making a capitalist empire based on lies, rumors and theft.

we're starting off strong, i see.

he referred to tommy as someone to mould or build upon multiple times, saying he is naive and calling it a good thing, even mentioning people like tubbo or fundy as the "a lot of tommyinnits" he could use take advantage of for his plans. these were people who were the most useful in terms of being hardworking and passionate, and arguably the most easily manipulated.

...cool. this still doesn't tell us what he wanted to do with l'manberg, but it gives us a sense of this guy's moral compass and honesty.

wilbur, to his soldiers at least, says that he made l'manberg for freedom and protection. ...freedom to steal from people? protection from... everyone except the guy who wants to exploit them?

yeah no, i'm not trusting anything he says.

let's turn to what wilbur said out of character about the motives with which wilbur the character created l'manberg.

"you could create something that you believe is worth having power over, and because you want to have power over it, everyone else will believe it's important, even though it's not." [ link ]

...alright, well that sorts out that question i suppose.

wilbur after his revival says that l'manberg was a "useful tool" that did what it was supposed to do; it divided. since naturally i'm not going to take his words at face value if it would kill me, let's turn back to what wilbur was actually saying and doing back when he made l'manberg, because maybe his memory has just faded, right?

*rewatching the vod* is he. is he quoting tr*mp's speech about building a wall and "making the mexicans pay for it" while being openly xenophobic towards the people who originally lived in the lands and building a giant wall?

ooo boy. cc!wilbur knew what he was doing, wasn't he?

see, if you rewatch the vods and look at them as satire on american propaganda (including the hamilton references) everything starts to fall into place.

but hey, l'manberg changed, right? it grew into something more than that initial quest for glory... right? i mean, the l'manberg government wasn't even corrupt up until schlatt's reign, right?

*laughs* no.

let's fast-forward.

l'manberg... hadn't done much after the revolution. it was just a safe space, but not really. people are living just as they did before, and neither wilbur nor l'manberg really changed much.

wilbur doesn't like that, and that is clear from what happens next.

Wilbur: “Tommy, we need power.”

Tommy: “Yeah?”

Wilbur: “I’ve tried – I spoke to Fundy and Tubbo yesterday, I told them how I didn’t like the civil war they were having, you know the fights that were going on.”

Tommy: “Yeah, that huge war in our name, yeah.”

Wilbur: “I told them I wasn’t happy with it, I told them to stop. Do you remember when you started getting angry at Dream, and I tried to control you, and you ignored me? …Yeah. See, this is the thing. Tommy, I…I led the revolution, right, but the issue is, is that I sort of became the de facto President, but no one listens to me. No one cares about mine – or your – power. No one cares! To us, we may be in anarchy, you know?”

alright, so a) wilbur dislikes anarchy, that's a good thing to remember for later, b) he's pissed off that people aren't listening to him (and tommy, but he definitely just added that on to make him care about the subject) and he can't "control" them c) he sees more power as a solution. well... maybe he just doesn't want people to fight, right? he's talking about a civil war he couldn't stop, after all.

Wilbur: “We can either, Tommy, right – we can either become a dictatorship, okay…we can just suddenly decide, ‘right, we’re in charge,’ and we just start – we start asserting our dominance. Now the key thing to being a dictator, is we need to control the center of power…so we get an army going –”

Tommy: “What is the center of power? Is it like some cube, or like an orb?”

Wilbur: “The army! The army! The banks, you know? We take control of those, and then people will do exactly as we say, right? That’s the dictatorship route, right. The other route is the democracy route. Now, this route’s gonna be slightly harder, but I have a plan. So I was thinking…what better way of making people believe that you’re in charge than by having them vote for you, right?”

so, wilbur was thinking of getting "an army going" to "control the center of power" and to "take control" of "the banks". he saw this as a valid solution to people not bending to his authority.

then he turned to election fraud instead, which he puts as straight-up manipulation of his people into believing he isn't a dictator.

...what. i'm not going to praise him for that decision, that's not even the bare minimum - he's still being a prick and showing just how much he actually doesn't care about what the "people he claims to care about" (cc!wilbur's words again) want.

but let's get back to the point; so, according to all of the current evidence, what did wilbur want?

wilbur wanted glory, power and division, to be able to enforce his authority and take control of his people.

...this is what people are saying dream shouldn't have stood up against in his land and "left them alone". that is what people are saying he should've "let wilbur have" in the home he worked to protect and build for the people he cared about - and keep in mind the dream smp was pretty much an anarchy back then.

this was willbur's intentions, and the first instinct of a lot of people was to paint dream as the tyrant. that just doesn't sit right with me, i'll be honest with you.

what about techno, then?

well, new l'manberg was ruled by tubbo, who was only doing his best - truly doing his best to turn wilbur's lies into a reality. no corruption, no conflict, only a home.

but tubbo was not ever actually in charge, was he?

let's talk about post-16th quackity.

i remember the second tubbo livestream i ever saw live was him rebuilding the crater; putting up grass blocks over the top, with quackity and fundy helping him out. it was when quackity first proposed the idea of getting rid of techno.

tubbo didn't want conflict, and he disagreed at first because it went against his ideals and his morals.

that didn't pan out well for him - and i think that's enough evidence quackity was pulling the strings of the cabinet, if you take into consideration the propaganda, riling up, and overall vengefulness that we suddenly seemed to be working with.

quackity's words didn't speak louder than his actions, but they are still interesting to note; "bring this country to power" being a common theme in his motivation for getting techno and dream "out of the way".

so quackity wanted power as well, and this desire only grew as it was taken further from his reach, but ever since the 16th, it has been very prominent in the way he instructed the new l'manberg government.

techno, the local anarchist who fought (only) oppressive governments that hurt people, was supposed to not do doomsday and "leave l'manberg alone", while what quackity wanted was nothing else than to turn l'manberg back into a tool of power and control.

i'm beginning to see a pattern here.

i am all for giving people the benefit of the doubt, really; but the constant glorification of a revolution leader who did everything for his own power and benefit, and a "secretary" that committed multiple war crimes and literally harmed and manipulated innocents in his quest for power; plus the instantaneous villainization of those who stood as obstacles in their path, is a bit too much even for this fandom's standards, even for me.

i get wilbur and quackity are both silver-tongued bastards able to shift the narrative in their favor, but the grudges people will hold against characters that fight against them and the measures to which they'll reach in order to defend them is wild.

it's not as easy as "they should've let l'manberg be". the people leading l'manberg were far from innocent and had sinister intentions.

184 notes · View notes

citrusreadstoa · 2 years ago

Text

Reading The Hidden Oracle: Chapter 29 (SPOILERS)

"I had never been so happy to see a killing field." Ummm, a killing field? Have we found the missing persons and are they now corpses? "we had found the myrmekes' dumping site" Oh ok good. UNLESS THE BONES OF THE DEAD CAMPERS ARE IN THERE. No, right? Tell me no.

"I was looking at a set of living doors." That sound like it'd make for an epic movie set. But, uh, what would opening these doors imply if they're living?

"I think this is more of an antechamber" ANTECHAMBER (n.): a small room leading to a main one

"Each stake was about the height of a crucifix" Startin' off positive, I see. "something that looked like a human head . . . They were human heads." Yep. Figures. But six of them? Who's the other demigod? New character? Oh, it's Paulie the palikos. But hey, we found 'em! Wait, are they gonna get set on fire?

Peachesssssss is here!

"Germani." ...Germans? Probably different from the ones we know. Do they count as monsters or mortals?

"Nero had always had expensive, impractical tastes." Hey, people keep saying that about me! I don't like having things in common with this neckbeard Nero.

"a bolt of white-hot power" Wait a minute, if we assume the Triumvirate have already achieved god or semi-god status, then do they have powers, too? Uh oh.

"my right hand, Vincius, and my left hand, Garius." I'm glad we got their names. That's very nice. I wonder if they mean anything. Anyway, I guess this answers who the three people in the Woods were. "their Batavi names, which I can't pronounce." Nero, you've had two millennia. Didn't you practice? I guess I shouldn't expect that basic courtesy of you. "like those street thugs you sent to attack me." Oh, so Cade and Mikey are the same kind of people. I wonder what their Romanized Batavi names and real names are.

"souls escaped from Erebos all the time." Oh, so they are mortal. And escaped souls. Nico and Hades are not gonna be happy to hear this.

"Without hesitation, Vince planted the butt of his spear against the ground." Vince, don't do it! You can find a better employer than Nero, I'm sure!

"And, of course, we are all descended from you, Lord Apollo." That's gotta sting.

"Considering she was facing the man who killed her father, she sounded remarkably calm." Oh, yeah. The Beast killed Meg's father, yet she's almost definitely working for him. That means he either has something she wants/needs or is holding something against her like maybe her stepdad's life or something else I can't think of off the top of my head.

"We have divided up the new empire... by which I mean North America." First of all: they're not thinking big enough. The last two big threats wanted to take over the world. These guys are going after barely a single continent. Second of all: they'd better not just split it by Canada/United States/Mexico. They can be more creative than that.

"'We would rather die,' I said. 'Wouldn't we, Meg?'" Okay, Apollo. You've got the conviction to oppose Nero even to the death, but don't assume Meg the twelve-year-old child is as eager to go rushing in to her death as you. "Then I realized she was crying." Exactly.

"Meg brought you here, just as I asked her to. Well done, my sweet." Yep. Knew it.

"The Beast killed my father. This is Nero. He's--he's my stepfather." Many questions. Is she disassociating Nero and the Beast because she doesn't want to think of them as the same person (especially if Nero has acted nice to her)? 'Cause it sounds like the Beast and Nero should be the same person. Also, how the heck did Nero come to be her stepfather. Did he just take her in off the streets? I really hope Meg's biological dad wasn't insane enough to marry Nero. Especially since Nero killed him. Well, maybe he manipulated her dad. Still seems unlikely that he'd do that just to get his hands on one demigod kid. He probably just killed the dad and adopted Meg and she had no choice in it -- the much easier method of obtaining an unwilling child soldier. Or child gladiator. Wait, did we ever get confirmation on that?

6 notes · View notes

enbylesbianism · 3 years ago

Text

ANY WAY THE WIND BLOWS: Simon Snow trilogy wrapped! (review)

Hi, there! It took me a while to finish this post, as I could talk about it for... a long time (not necessarily a good thing), but I got it! I like praise, so if anyone wants to tell me I did a good job... Also, I might edit this post later on. I don’t remember anything else I’d like to add, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I did after posting. My brain does not obey me. Anyways, off to it! By the way, I won’t give this book a real rating.

While this is a review on Any Way the Wind Blows, I intend on analysing some points of the overall series too. The book starts where Wayward Son left off, the end of the road trip, Simon and Baz having problems in their relationship, Penelope helping Shepard with his curse... and the whole situation of the NowNext vampires. Rainbow Rowell only seems to remember the first part. That leaves us with the second book of the series ignored almost completely, with the exception of Simon and Baz’s feelings as well as Shepard’s existence.

Don’t get me wrong, aspects of the book are mentioned, but never in a truly important way. Lamb, the Vampire King, is mentioned by Simon, but only focusing on his and Baz’s relationship, never about the fact that there are a bunch of vampires (supposedly ‘evil’) in the U.S. but I guess what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? I could count on one hand the times the NowNext vampires were mentioned (like, literally, this isn’t an exaggeration, I looked up ‘NowNext’ on the e-book and only got five results), all of them either being one of them considering telling someone else about it, then not following through with it, or dismissing it as a concern for Lamb. Which makes the plot of Wayward Son completely useless for the trilogy. Now, that wouldn’t matter as much if everything else had been properly developed, but we definitely can’t say that.

We are introduced to a brand new, poorly developed villain, Smith-Smith Richards, whose character arc is as ridiculous as his name. He’s one of the fake Chosen Ones that started appearing after the events of Carry On (and the only one to be mentioned and/or defeated, for that matter). It becomes clear that presenting as Simon Snow-ish is part of his brand, especially when Baz describes him as looking like the Netflix adaptation version of Simon, and that he was raised and guided by his uncle, who’s just... there. I don’t think it would’ve been hard to make him manipulating Smith-Smith into believing he’s the prophetic savior of the Magickal World, which would not only make both of their characters more interesting, but it could also serve as a parallel of Simon’s relationship with the Mage. Richards also has some special powers such as increasing a mage’s magic for a limited amount of time, but taking it away afterwards, as well as making someone immune from spells. It’s worth saying those aren’t skills that are usual in the Magickal World, or else there wouldn’t be so much confusion and shock from people (specially Baz and Penny, who would definitely have heard of something like this before), but we get no explanation on why or how Richard has them.

Then, we have the Salisbury’s. We, as readers, already know Lucy and Davy are Simon’s parents, making Ruth his grandmother. It’s noticeable that Rowell builds up to that discovery, by making Simon get along with Ruth instantly, him thinking about Lucy a lot etc. It makes us excited to read the part where they actually figure it out, to know how Simon would deal with that, him dealing with the fact that he’s the Mage’s son and the fact that, technically, he killed his father. I suppose that’s the point, but actually getting to that part was incredibly underwhelming. The way they discovered about Simon—being able to lift a family sword—hadn’t been mentioned or hinted at before. One would’ve expected Simon, who’s particularly interested in swords as it’s mentioned many times throughout the series, to notice a freaking Excalibur at the Salisbury’s place before.

And speaking of noticing things: when it’s finally revealed that Simon is Lucy’s son and the Mage’s heir, Baz pointed out the uncanny similarities between his boyfriend and the deceased Watford principal. “Those narrow eyes. That tilt of his head. I thought... I thought he’d learned it. Was imitating it.” + “Merlin, Simon, you even look like him.” (Any Way the Wind Blows, chapter 86) Simon was the Mage’s protégé for years and I assume the Magickal authorities knew that he was the one to inherit all of his money and personal belongings, but no one, in the whole British Magickal community, thought about them being related? I refuse to believe there were no conspiracy theorist teachers at Watford or that Mitali or even the Pitch’s alongside everyone who was against the Mage didn’t at least check to know if there was something behind those characteristics. Baz literally said (chapter 88), “I think it’s undeniable. I’d cast ‘Flesh and blood’ on them, but it would bounce right off of Snow (...)”, so there is a spell for that. Plus, we didn’t even have one whole chapter of Simon dealing with this information! The chapters (no more than five, out of ninety-one) were divided between Simon, Baz and Lady Ruth’s POVs. He’s the main character, so one would think he’d get more development.

Another point that felt rushed was the romance. While Simon and Baz’s relationship wasn’t, as it’s been a topic Rowell has explored for three books (we’re not counting Fangirl here, as their ‘participation’ on it was minor and their personalities weren’t as consistent as in the trilogy. Not that it is that consistent there), the others just felt like she wanted everyone to finish the trilogy with a pair. I’ll start with Shepard and Penny. There were fans who liked them together before Any Way the Wind Blows, but it wasn’t hinted at—it was more like a fandom thing. I personally like them as a couple, but it could have had development and, maybe, foreshadowing in Wayward Son. I mean, they did fight monsters during a huge part of a road trip together.

The next one I’ll talk about is Agatha and Niamh. I love them, don’t get me wrong. Actually, it’s precisely because I love them that I wish they’d gotten a better treatment. Niamh wasn’t introduced before Any Way the Wind Blows. I get why she wasn’t introduced in Carry On—it was interesting to see a character who wasn’t caught up in Simon and Baz’s drama during the school years—but a hint of her existence could’ve been left in Wayward Son. Agatha is an important character on it, and a mention of her father training an aspiring veterinary could’ve fit somewhere, as a hint, maybe. (Also, Lucy, the dog, being absolutely forgotten during this book when a lot of Agatha’s time is spent in a veterinary clinic...) Besides, we could get the vibes from them, but after they kissed, there was barely any content. We didn’t get them calling each other ‘girlfriend’ (or if they even like that label at this point), or the aftermath of the kiss, or a POV from Niamh. Or Niamh appearing the epilogue? If Agatha was taking care of the goats, I’m sure Niamh would have a part in that too. Still on Agatha’s character, but not on Niamh’s, it felt like Rainbow Rowell was setting up for aromantic and asexual Agatha, specially because of this quote: “It was like she'd pulled the feeling right out of my heart. I could have kissed her. (I still wish sometimes that I wanted to.) (That would feel like an answer to... the question of me. Then I could say, 'Oh, thats who I am. That's why I've been so confused.')” (Wayward Son, chapter 4).

And I was leaving the best (I need to be sure everyone knows I mean this sarcastically) of the romance topic for the end: Fiona and Nicodemus. It’s just... so forced and undeveloped. Not even because, to me, they’re both gay as hell. There was just... such a lack of development! I don’t think we had any interaction between the both of them before Any Way the Wind Blows. There was no foreshadowing or why would Fiona, a vampire hunter from a family of vampire hunters, would marry... a vampire! I’d already find it weird to see fanfiction of them as a crackship, but it’s canon?! Like, canon as in they’re going to get married and use Fiona and Natasha’s mother’s ring? Seriously, nothing will take from me that this is a lavender marriage (as I’ve already discussed with my best friend, which inspired this post of theirs.)

I’d also like to speak about a topic that’d been hinted throughout the series, especially post-Carry On, which is the criticism towards the Magickal Community in the U.K.. That criticism is very much embodied in Shepard’s character. It’s explicitly said that the British mages have some kind of supremacy towards other supernatural beings, such as vampires for example, gatekeeping literal magic. Up until relatively recently, mages with weak links with magic couldn’t attend Watford (and that’s a major plot point in the final book) and there’s a denial towards any other kind of magic except the ones that are part of their craft. Even within the Magickal community itself, there are more important families that are more likely to succeed, like Natasha receiving criticism for marrying Malcolm, as a Pitch. It felt pointless not to tackle the issues you’ve set up yourself in your own universe. Penelope has very strict morals related to magickal law and beliefs, something that she could’ve deconstructed, especially considering Shepard, her love interest, symbolises that. Another point related to that is, the trilogy is very clearly heavily inspired by Harry Potter, where many of those points are very clear (e.g. wizard supremacy in relation to other species, such as werewolves and domestic elves and the status quo that makes some traditionally magical families more influential than others, like the Malfoy’s vs. the Weasley’s), so it’s not an easily forgettable concept.

The series also had a lot of inconsistencies. The one I’ve seen talked about more often is Simon and Agatha’s... intimacy status, let’s call it that. Simon’s whole thing in the first book was that he struggled controlling his magic when experiencing intense emotions, which makes it hard to believe that he managed to have sex withount an... accident. Besides that, though, there’s this quote, “She (...) presses a kiss into my temple. No one has ever kissed me there. No one has ever kissed me anywhere but on my mouth” (Carry On, Chapter 27), but in Any Way the Wind Blows, when Simon’s about to have his wings cut, Agatha says, “It’s a strange feeling to look at someone’s chest and know it’s nothing to do with you anymore, but still to remember kissing every inch.” (Chapter 14)

So, we have established that Rainbow Rowell’s work, both character and plot driven, is flawed. “But we got the characters interacting for the closure of the series, at least!” Well... we got interactions between the canon romantic relationships, yeah. But besides that, we didn’t get much. There were no interactions between Agatha and Penny, or Shepard with Simon and Baz. Or Penny and her mother figuring stuff out. Or literally anyone with a therapist. And not gonna lie, the interaction we got between Baz and Dev was underwhelming, to say the least. Niall is nowhere to be seen, too.

Rainbow Rowell’s writing is beautiful: she writes poetic lines that make the book seem perfect at first glance, if you don’t think about it for too long. Her words are very shiny, but once you get use to that light and see what’s behind them, what’s between one shiny quote and another, it has so many flaws and plot holes that it reads like a first draft. There are many concepts in there that are genuinely good: the rest of the trilogy focused on the protagonist dealing with the trauma of being a child soldier instead of being entirely an adventure, Simon being unlabelled, a fake Chosen One that gives mages fake hope... Those are all good ideas, but so poorly explored that, despite being an entire book/trilogy, it still feels like a writing pitch or something among those lines.

I felt iffy about other things during my reading of the series, but they aren’t exactly plot points, so I’ll just list them below:

Mitali, Penny’s mom, including ‘discovering your bisexuality’ as a mid-life crisis thing

As I’ve seen people talking about biphobia/bi erasure in the books, I’ll be including this post that features both unlabelled and bisexual individuals talking about the topic (it isn’t my place, as a lesbian, to talk about this, that’s why I decided not to do so.)

Romanticising of Baz’s suicide (a.k.a. chapter 61) in the first book. If you’re not in a good place mentally, like I was when I first read Carry On, I hope you know that a kiss or romance doesn’t help any mental illness you or others might have. Don’t let anyone use your guilt to manipulate you. Paraphrasing Alice Oseman in their graphic novel Heartstopper, love can’t cure a mental illness.

Any Way the Wind Blows was... very horny. I can’t point out how this makes the book bad exactly, but it wasn’t something I enjoyed. One of Rainbow Rowell’s strongest skills is that her quotes, when loose, are good. They tend to be poetic and just beautiful, overall. But in the... explicit scenes, these skills were barely used, and I felt like I was reading NSFW tweets off of someone’s private account on Twitter. Besides, the first two books of the series weren’t written like that, so the change was very sudden.

The older people could’ve been more explored. Penelope and Mitali’s relationship and how similar the both of them are compared to each other, Daphne and Professor Bunce’s insecurities and why they believed in Smith-Smith, Fiona, Nico, and Ebb... Also, the Mage and Lucy. We could’ve had more on them, y’know.

The pop culture references. They made the book read even more like Twitter’s feed. Honestly, if I wanted to read prompts and nice ship content alongside memes from Twitter with some horny thoughts sprinkled all around, I would’ve opened the Twitter app. Or Tumblr, Instagram, whatever.

The POV switching felt lazy to me at times. It’s nice to know how different characters are experiencing that situation, yes, but sometimes, like during the discovery that Simon is a Salisbury, it read as if Rowell wanted to create tension, but couldn’t think of any other way to do it except the switching around.

Narrative wise, I think Simon and Baz should’ve spent more time broken up.

64 notes · View notes

akumaalert · 3 years ago

Text

Snippet of “Awake” - First Chapter of “Divergence”

Hey, all! Wanted to share a snippet of the first chapter (”Awake”) of “Divergence” - a fic that will offshoot from “Heavy Metal Lover.” Note that this is basically a whole spoiler for chapter 20 of “Heavy Metal Lover.” If you’re like me and see random stuff saying “Don’t click if you haven’t read...” and click anyway: Hi! Welcome, chaos lover. If you like this and want to know the context, please feel free to check out the full work on AO3.

“Divergence” should be posted within two weeks and will be open to requests for the reader (”Lucky”) to have different experiences than what she has in the original. This can mean the following:

- AUs

- Re-tellings of certain scenes of the original

- Reader-specific details included in old or new/original scenes (i.e., reader is plus sized, skinny, tall, short, etc.)

- Genderbending of any of the characters

Originally made this Tumblr to share snippets of the stories on...so happy that I could finally do that! If you want to skip writing that was in the story, you can start at “Though sleep pulled at your eyelids...”

Story contains mature elements, swearing, and explicit mention of sex. Please be forewarned.

Looking back, it would only be a wonder that it did not occur sooner.

As soon as you were alone in the bedroom, you took off your shoes and eyed the clothes Heisenberg had provided you from the factory...

...before turning to the tub.

Couldn't hurt to bathe. Love to be clean.

That man is coming back up to this bedroom.

This is the point, self.

The logical side of your brain, for once, remained quiet.

Though you had clearly lost all sense of sensibility, you at least moved the divider to completely block the tub from any but the most determined of views.

The water had been scalding when you got in.

By the time you had bathed and decided that your foolishness had reached its limit, it was stark cold.

"This was stupid," you said. "Fucking stupid. What did I want? Him to join me? This is the universe saying 'Wake the fuck up.'"

Though your fingers were pruned, you dried yourself off and pulled a nightgown from the small cupboard beneath the sink.

Sheer as ever. Fuck's sake. The universe had truly saved you.

Until it hadn't.

Heisenberg rushed into the room like a rocket and you jumped as the door slammed close.

"...you here, Luck?"

"Yeah," you called out. "Um...don't come over here...gotta get dressed real quick."

"...k" called Heisenberg.

Wasting no time, you slid the gown over your body and made sure to fan out the edges as far as they would go.

You needed no mirror to see your nipples proudly displayed through the fabric.

Mouthing a 'fuck' for good measure, you frowned.

"Heisenberg?"

"Yes?"

"Do you...do you mind looking away for a second?"

"From you?"

"Yes."

"...are...are you coming out naked?"

"No," you snapped.

An awkward silence greeted you.

"Heisenberg?"

"Huh?"

"You looking away?"

"Oh. Yeah. You're good now."

Peeking from behind the divider, you only saw Heisenberg's back.

With more speed than you were familiar with, you bolted to the bed and ducked under the covers.

Once secure beneath the pillowy softness, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay. It’s safe."

You did not miss how Heisenberg whirled around.

"Oh...fuck...that was fast."

"Yeah," you said absently.

"Trying to set a fucking record?"

"Something like that."

"Mmn. I...gotta get changed."

"Okay."

The two of you stared at the other.

"You trying to get a free show or you gonna cover those peepers?"

"...I figured you would go behind the divider."

"The divider is on your side of the bed."

"Oh," you said dumbly. "Oh. Yeah...wait."

Yanking the pillow from underneath your head, you smashed it onto your face above your mouth and pressed down.

Heisenberg chuckled. "Dramatic as hell."

"Doing what you asked of me."

"...didn't formally ask you to...did I?"

Swallowing found your throat on fire.

"Mmn."

"What was that?"

"Mmn," you repeated.

"Heh...don't go into public speaking, kid."

You frowned at the ceiling and the darkness of your eyes.

Instead of speaking, Heisenberg decided to tell you he was done by climbing in the bed beside you. It struck you suddenly that lamps had been placed in the room instead of the candles that the castle was so beset with. But when you removed your pillow, you found yourself met by more muted darkness.

"Sure you okay with this?" asked Heisenberg. "I can fuck off and go into another room. I like to bitch like a drama king, but I don't need anything crazy set up for me."

"Bed is pretty big," you said carelessly. "S'okay. We've been closer."

The chuckle Heisenberg gave was absolutely filthy.

"We have...haven't we?"

The fucking lilt would be the death of you. What a relief it was to blink blindly and stupidly at the man in peace without judgment.

"Hey - last time I'm reminding you...what's your one job?"

"Get you out in the morning," you replied.

"Because?"

"Ah...generators...production line...something about a reset..."

"That's my girl. Nighty night, Luck."

"Night, Heis."

A turn. A breath. A feeling that you would never be able to sleep with the man so close that you could feel his body heat radiating from him like a welcome sign.

But you awoke.

You awoke often.

You awoke in the middle of the night from a dream you could barely recall and all the images of Alcina at the forefront of your mind.

You awoke in Heisenberg's arms and sobbed into his chest as he clung you to him just as sweetly as any of your snowy imaginings.

"Fuck you doing awake? No...shh...it's okay...shh...you're alright. I'm here. I've got you."

Though sleep pulled at your eyelids, you nudged your head up to feel the spikes of Heisenberg's scruff. You had to stay awake. Could not return to sleep and Alcina awaiting you with her long talons and even longer legs.

"Nightmare?"

You nodded into his neck.

"Mmn. Have those myself...think you can go back to sleep? Don't think it's quite time for me to leave yet if you just wanna yak about it or something."

Swallowing, you exhaled. "Don't wanna go back to sleep."

With a grunt, Heisenberg sat up to leave you curled on the sheets.

"Just checking the time..."

When Heisenberg turned to pull something from the floor, you noticed that your eyes had somewhat adjusted to the dark. Enough so that you saw the loose movements of his arms and realized that he had gone to bed without a shirt.

"Fuck...two in the morning..."

"I'm sorry," you said, tensing. But Heisenberg was mumbling and coming back to you with open arms. "Sorry I woke you..."

"S'alright," he said, yawning afterward. "Gotten less sleep and done more stupid things after than make sure the reset doesn't fuck up the factory..."

As he spoke, you could feel one of his hands rubbing up and down your arm a bit too roughly. An awkward and well intended move to comfort you.

"Still...I'm sorry...you need all the sleep you can manage to get. I don't know how much work the whole factory thing will be..."

"Honestly not much as long as I get back in time," he said, hand squeezing your arm for good measure before returning to that same rough rubbing motion. "Could probably even come back here afterwards...heh...that would spook that sixty-foot snake."

You laughed a sleepy laugh and settled further into his grasp.

"Mmn...like a fucking little bunny...cuddling into me and shit..."

"I can stop...pull away..."

Heisenberg's hand stopped rubbing you in favor of clutching you to him.

"Shh...you're talking nonsense. Need some sleep."

"Heis..."

"Shhh..."

"Heis, you can just tell me that you like it when we cuddle."

When he tsked and laid his chin on your head, you smiled. It felt so much like that day at the stronghold.

"Why would I say that? Not in the business of lying to people."

Lying...yes...because what we are doing now is causing you so much distress...

"Well," you said, smiling. "I'll say it then. I like it when we cuddle. Especially in bed. Feels more comfy than cuddling in front of the lycans."

A shiver - as though Heisenberg had been beset by the cold - ran through his body.

"Oof...y'okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." he said absently. "Uh...actually...we might wanna go to sleep after all..."

"Mmn?"

"Yeah...early morning..."

"You mind if I hold onto you for a while? This...this actually helps from the nightmare."

The only way you knew how to describe Heisenberg in that moment was jittery. His movements were fine on their own but were conducted with such awkward quickness as to be alarming.

When he did not answer you, you looked up at him through the dark.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

A beat of silence and then another.

"Nothing's wrong." Quick words to match his quick movement.

"Heisenberg..."

"It's Heis."

"...you...Heis...something isn't right. Just talk to me. In English, preferably."

What you could only assume was a curse in German fell from his lips.

"I...fuck's sake, buttercup...I don't know how to...if you...this was such a bad idea...so fucking STUPID."

"What?" You paused, gathering enough evidence from his huff. "Sleeping together?"

"Yes."

"It was your idea."

"I FUCKING KNOW THAT, OKAY?" he hissed. "Just...I thought...earlier...it made more sense...this made more sense..."

"Glad something did because I am completely and utterly confused," you admitted.

"You're confused? You started flirting with me." Heisenberg grumbled something low and rough. "Fucking gave me ideas...false hope...so I thought...guh I'm such a fucking idiot..."

Hope began to fuel you too. Fuel you and feed into the most terrible of terrific ideas.

"Are you...whatever you're trying to say...I was flirting with you. That wasn't false. Honestly...I was in the bathtub just moments before you came in hoping you would join me."

"...you what now?"

You could not help but laugh. The fact that you could not see Heisenberg's expressive face only added to the hilarity as you imagined a hundred different emotions running through that scarred skin.

"I took a bath...a long one...hoping that you would come up here in the middle of it and offer to join me...figured one thing could lead into another and the bed was here anyway..."

The pauses in between Heisenberg's voice could only endear you to him. He seemed every bit lost for words.

"You...are you talking about...what are you talking about?"

"Sleeping with you," you supplied with a shrug. "What are you talking about?"

"Sleeping...you...ah...I wasn't...I wasn't mistaken? Shit...I...I may or may not have a fucking stiffy over here...because the cuddling is...something you enjoy so much."

"Oh?" you purred. The chance of escaping in the delights of Heisenberg’s body made your body positively teem with anticipation. But you could not forget your own actions...the last time you had seen him in such a vulnerable state. Losing some confidence, you glanced at the darkness of the bed instead of his body. "Umm...I want to touch you...want to...would it be okay if I touched you?"

"Yeah...course. You've touched me before."

"No...I mean...is it...fuck...can I jack you off?"

For a long while, Heisenberg said nothing.

The next thing you heard was a rattling spit.

"OUCH GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKER!" he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"Pinched myself."

"You...why are you pinching yourself?"

"Because I'm clearly fucking awake but clearly dreaming at the same time because yes, I would enjoy that very much. Please. And thank you."

"Are...are you sure?"

Heisenberg's hand came down heavy but without malice on your neck.

"OW!"

"Shit...I was trying to grab your hand."

Providing your hand to his, you hitched a breath when he splayed it against his chest. His heartbeat thudded against your palm. Wrenching your knees upward, you brushed against that heated length between his legs.

"I...um...we should probably talk about boundaries before I do this."

"Huh?"

"Is this...are you okay with me just jacking you off?"

"Just? This is a goddamn holiday. Marking it on the calendar. Nothing little about it."

"Dumbass. That's not what I'm saying," you said, scratching his chest somewhat affectionately to show him that you meant no harm. "Do you...are you wanting anything more? Because I'm on my period...I'm up for it...but it might get messy and I know that's the last mess I want a certain someone finding."

"We...we can do more? More like..." You heard him take in a shaky inhale. "Can we...is like full blown intercourse on the table?"

"Sure...long as you don't call it that again," you said, shaking your head.

Grumbling and tensing his shoulders, Heisenberg whined when you dropped your touch to round one of his nipples.

"What the fuck else am I supposed to call it?"

"Sex. Fucking. Making love," you added jokingly. "Um...ah...you know...I hadn't thought about it, but maybe you genuinely didn't know. German to English...or...ah...Romanian to English. Might not have those words."

"I like making love," he said with certainty in his voice. "Let's do that. Make love."

You had expected him to laugh at that suggestion if he acknowledged it at all. But there he was giddy and practically giggling over the most flowery option he was given.

"Okay...are there any places that you don't like being touched?"

"Not that I know of," he admitted. "Are there...is there somewhere I shouldn't touch you?"

"Not necessarily...just...no going down on me this time. Sex is one thing-"

"Making love."

"-us um...us making love is fine, but I don't want to get eaten out while my period is going on. And don't show me your dick after or comment on the blood...just...get rid of it. Please. And...and nothing too crazy to start out with. I'm not a prude, but don't want to be choked or anything harsh like that. Just...vanilla for our first go. Then we can see where things take us."

"Roger that! Heard loud and clear," he said, leaning his face to kiss your forehead. For all the lack of a relationship, Heisenberg was making you feel far much more mushy and cared for than your ex ever had. You let your hand round his stomach slow and soft in response.

"Thank you. We...if you want to, I'll jack you off for a bit before you grab the condom."

"The...I don't have one of those."

That made you freeze.

"Not even in this room? Your chambers? If you don't feel like getting up, I can grab them from wherever they are."

Heisenberg went uncharacteristically quiet.

"Heis?"

"None in this room," he said plainly.

"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable by asking...but...is that typical? You having sex without a condom?"

It worried you. Here you were all too willing to have him fuck you into the mattress while he could be having all sorts of unprotected sex with who knows who in the village. He was attractive - a lord. Anyone with a pair of eyes could easily fall in lust if not love with him.

Anyone with ears too...fucking sexy ringmaster voice...

"Not typical, no."

"No? Has it just...been a while?"

"Never."

"Huh?"

"Never made love before."

That sent you sitting up in bed.

"WHAT?"

"What?"

"HEISEN..." you lowered your voice, realizing he was growing tense. "You've never...I don't believe you. Quit joking. Not the time."

"Not joking," he grumbled. "Why would I joke about that?"

"You're just..."

"I'm what?"

"You're you," you said as if it clarified anything at all. "You're a lord in a small town. You have a face of a model. Not...not trying to open old wounds, but you're absolutely gorgeous underneath all those layers..."

"Yeah," he snorted. "Fatass McGee will be strutting the runways any day now."

"Oh my god...you're serious." Lying back down, you brought your hand to the clothed length between his legs. He had grown noticeably more soft since the brush of your knee, but you could feel his cock twitch when you cupped him. "So...no one? Not even foreplay or...what about kissing?"

"...ahhh...nah...none of that either...you're probably the first person to see me naked since I was a little kid...well...maybe a few folks in Constantinople. Got sloshed one time and woke up naked tied to a lamppost. But...other than that...all you."

There seemed to be no end to the surprises that would fall from Heisenberg's mouth. You stared at him - or the inky shadow that was him - and ran teasing fingers up his shaft.

"I uhh...fuck...I'm pretty sure anyone who saw me then is dead by now though," he supplied.

"Heis...you're so fucking ridiculous."

#heavy metal lover #divergence #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you

32 notes · View notes

jawritter · 4 years ago

Text

Where The Green Grass Grows

Chapter 1

Summary: Life changes, nothing ever stays the same. With most change comes with some degree of pain, that’s how we grow.

Jensen thought he had his whole life planned out, written for him in the bright lights of Hollywood. One failed marriage later, and a lifetime of lessons learned, lead him home to a place he thought he’d left behind him when he was only a teenager.

He thought his life was over. He felt like he’d lost everything, but who knew one little trip to the local diner that had just opened up outside of town would turn his whole world upside down. All because he met you. Maybe a little slower pace of life isn’t such a bad idea after all…

Warnings: Language, Angst, mention of past OC character death, mention of grief, dealing with a divorce. Drinking. I think that's about it for this chapter.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2550

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

A/N: This fic is unbeta’d and all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one! Feedback is golden! This series is complete on patreon.

My Masterlist My Patreon Series Masterlist

“Mr. Ackles! Good morning!” Alex, Jensen's longtime agent, said as he took his seat at the big oak desk in front of Jensen.

“Alex,” Jensen said, giving the man a tight smile as he watched him shuffle through the pile of paperwork on his desk. Jensen had been in the entertainment industry since he was a young boy in one sense or another. He was no idiot, and he knew the reason he was called into his agents office for the first time in almost 15 years wasn’t a good thing, and he knew just what it was about.

“I’m glad you could come in to see us on such short notice, Mr. Ackles. I’m sure you’re a busy man, and I’m not going to take up much of your time.”

Alex folded his hands in front of him, and Jensen couldn’t help but feel like the kid that had been sent to the principal's office for doing something stupid in class. The only difference was this time he wasn’t a kid, and this wasn’t a school. He was in his fucking forties, and this was his job. He hadn’t even done anything wrong!

“I’m sure you already suspect the reason I called you here Jensen,” Alex said, dropping all formality that was there just a moment ago. “Your recent divorce has affected you, and I don’t mean that in an offensive way!” Alex said as Jensen rolled his eyes. He knew that’s what this was all about.

His divorce with Danneel had been a very public one. There were children involved, and of course a substantial amount of property. What divorce has ever gone smoothly or quietly in Hollywood? None that he’d ever seen, and they were overall civil for the public eye? So what was the problem?

“Cut the shit, Alex!” Jensen said, barely holding his temper in check. He could feel his blood pressure rising in his seat. Why did people have to be so damn judgemental? “What the fuck is this really all about?”

Alex took a deep breath, and set back in defeat against his dark leather chair, and looked at Jensen almost as if he pitied him, and damn if that didn’t just suck worse than the wishy-washy shit.

“Look, Jensen, since your divorce you haven’t been as on your game as you were. You’re showing up late to set. You have been drinking more, I can tell it by the color of your fucking skin man. You’re exhausted. No one expected you to jump back to work before the ink even dried on the divorce papers, and the company thinks it might be time to take a little break, get yourself back together, and figure shit out before you try and take on another roll.”

Alex fell quiet as Jensen set there with his hands buried in his hair, no longer looking at him. Alex did not want to do this to Jensen, he really didn’t. It was the guys that were higher up than he was.

Sure they weren’t exactly wrong, he could see it in the actor’s eyes how tired he was, and how much strain he was under. He didn’t want another nervous breakdown under his belt like Charlie Sheen that had almost turned into an incurable disaster. Jensen had a stable following, and a break wasn’t going to hurt his career. If nothing else it may help it.

“Go back to Texas for a while Jensen, get away from all this shit here in California, go have a damn beer out in the country for fucks sake. Focus on you! Gigs will still be here. You need to take care of yourself man.”

Jensen nodded slowly before finally looking up to meet Alex’s now concerned gaze.

Jensen knew deep down he’d been slipping, but he didn’t think it was bad enough to warrant a forced vacation. If it really was that bad, he knew he needed to take a step back from the public eye until he could get his shit together before it did hurt his career. He’d seen much bigger actors than him fall because of shit they did while going through tough shit like this, and he didn’t work all his life to lose everything.

“Okay… Fine… I’ll go home for a while,” Jensen said, huffing in defeat, rubbing his hand along the beard that was now covering his jawline as he focused on a random spot on the building just outside the window. Completely done with this conversation.

Alex breathed a visible sigh of relief and flopped back into his chair. His eyes still on the man in front of him. He couldn’t imagine what was going on in Jensen’s head right now, but whatever it was, he knew he wasn’t in the sharing mood.

“I’ll let the big guys upstairs know, take as long as you need,” Alex said, getting up from his desk and extending his hand for Jensen to shake. Jensen looked at it like it personally offended his mother, but shook it all the same. He didn’t want to piss people off to the point he’d need to find a new agency to represent him, but man, did he want to tell everyone in this building to go fuck themselves.

It really didn’t sink in that he was going home until Jensen sat down at his computer at home with a glass of bourbon in his hand, looking at plane tickets back to Dallas. He hadn’t told his dad he was coming, and he knew his family would welcome him back with open arms, but it was his own mental struggle that kept him from hitting the pay now button on the screen.

Sure, Alex said that he could come back whenever he was ready, but the truth was he didn’t know when or if ever he’d be ready again.

He felt like going back to Texas was admitting defeat. When he’d shown up in California all those years ago, he’d struggled his way into Hollywood. No one had given him an exactly warm welcome, and it didn’t come without some damn near misses and shit that almost sent him back before his time.

Now, after all that. Several decade’s worths of struggling, and clawing his way to where he was today, he was going home. It left more than a little bitter taste in his mouth, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The agency wasn’t going to get him another job until he took a break, and sure he needed one, but he didn’t want to take one. On the other hand, if he didn’t take one, then he’d surely destroy his career because he was in no shape to be in the public eye.

There was no going back to Austin. He couldn’t live in the same town as her, that’s why he’d run off to California. If he was going back to Texas it was going to have to be Dallas. No matter how much he didn’t want to.

It wasn’t that he was afraid someone would make fun of him, or the locals would talk about him. He was loaded, and successful. He wasn’t concerned about their opinions. It was his own pride he was struggling with, not theirs. He had lost his wife and children, now he was losing his career, and he just didn’t feel like this shitshow could get any worse.

“Who says you can’t go home,” Jensen said with a dark chuckle as he booked his ticket, and stared at the departure time. 5:00 A.M. tomorrow. That only gave him a few hours to pack, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to even take any of this shit with him.

“Order up!” you hear James call from the other side of the counter where the kitchen was separated from the bar by a large whole that took up most of the inner wall, much like a lot of older dinner kitchens did in the ’50s and ’60s.

You throw the rag you’d been wiping the bar down with in the laundry hamper that was hidden safely under the counter from the view of the customers and grabbed the tray of burgers and fries, bringing them over to the young couple that was sitting at the very back of the restaurant. They were the only customers left in the place, and it was obviously their first date.

You could tell it in the way the girl nervously played with the hem of her dress, while the young man did all he could to hold a conversation with her. It was evident that in the light blush that covered her cheeks she had feelings for the boy, and judging by the way he was gushing over her, his feelings went pretty deep too.

“Here you go guys, if you need anything else I’ll just be right over there,” you tell them with a smile. They thanked you, and you returned to your place behind the counter. You sighed deeply as you started to count down the register that was used earlier that day. Once this young couple was done, then it was time to get out of here. You were more than ready to get these shoes off your feet and sink neck-deep in a bath as hot as you could stand it in order to relieve some of the day's tension that was still evident in your back and legs from standing on your feet all day.

As you counted down the money in front of you, your eyes kept drifting over to the young couple sitting at the back table. You remember when Eric had taken you on your first date. It was at a restaurant much like this one. Then the night before you got married, he brought you back to the place where it all started. He was deployed to Iraq for another tour just three weeks after your wedding and returned in a flag-draped casket a year later.

It was one of the hardest paths you ever had to walk in your life. You were young, had little to no family, and Eric was your world, your whole life, and it seemed like so suddenly it was ripped violently away from you.

You swallowed hard and tried to remember to continue to count the money, crewing on your lower lip in concentration.

It had been three years since Eric’s funeral, and you still hadn’t moved on. Sure, there had been prospects. You were still young, only 30, and you were single in a relatively small town outside of the greater city of Dallas. So it was no secret that you were not with anyone. You knew you should find someone and try to settle down again, but you just didn’t feel the same way Eric made you feel about anyone that had approached you so far. He was your first love. There was a whole there now, that you didn’t think would ever mend.

Seeing that young couple that looked so happy and so in love brought up a whole lot of feelings that you wished like hell you could bury because they still hurt.

“Hey you, stop staring at the customers,” Jessica said, leaning against the counter with a smirk on her face.

You give her your best bitch face and go back to putting the money bag in the safe under the counter. “I’m just making sure the customers don’t need anything.”

“Liar,” she said simply. “You know it’s been three years, Y/N.”

You looked up at her and sighed deeply as your eyes trained back to the young couple that were laughing together.

“I know Jessica. I’ve thought about it. No one just… I don’t know, makes me feel the way Eric did.”

Jessica gave you a sympathetic look and threw her arm around your shoulder. She was working here with you when this place opened up right after you and Eric got married. She had been your friend ever since, and she was there with you through the grieving process, and she still kept a close eye on you all these years later.

“You know I’m only telling you this because I love you as a friend right?” she asked you, and you just stared at her. Afraid of what was about to come out of her mouth. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to play matchmaker, and you didn’t know if you could go through that again.

“The reason you can’t find someone is because you're still holding on to him, Y/N. You have to let him go, let him rest!”

Your hand slipped up to the small silver locket that you kept around your neck. Eric had given it to you right before he left for your last deployment, and you never took it off. You knew she was right. You were still acting like you were a married woman. If you were ever going to move on, you were going to have to let him go.

“I know you’re right, but I don’t know how,” you tell her in earnest, as the young couple throws some money down on the table, and gathers up their coats to leave, waving at the two of you as they went.

“I’ll tell you what, tonight after we finish up, we’re going to head down to the graveyard, and you're gonna tell him goodbye for real, and bury that locket, and let him go. Then I want you to move on!! You're so young, you deserve to be happy, Eric would want you to be happy.”

“I he would,” you tell her. Letting go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and wiping the stray tear away that fell down your face before you nod and agree to go.

It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, but after you got off work, Jessica got in her car and followed you to the graveyard. You did just like she said to do. You told him goodbye and took the Locket with a spoon you’d grabbed from the diner that they were going to throw away, and dug a small hole, burying the locket, and a part of your heart forever.

When you got home to your small house and got in the shower to wash away the day, deciding to forgo the bath because it was so late, and you were exhausted, you felt a little more at peace than you had in years. Even though there would always be a part of you that missed Eric. You hoped this time that you could let him go enough to finally move on.

You wanted what that couple had tonight, you wanted a friend and a companion. Maybe now you could start to let yourself be happy again. At least the weight that you had been carrying for three years felt just a little lighter, and you closed your eyes that night in hopes that tomorrow was going to be the start of a better way of life for you.

You never know, maybe Mr. Right will just walk right in the diner tomorrow. Then again, would you ever be that lucky?

Forever Tags:

@deandreamernp

@forgetthisbull

@miraclesoflove

@deanwanddamons

@rvgrsbrns

@chevyharvelle

@onethirstyunicorn

@i-love-superhero

@lyss-dw79

@magssteenkamp

@lemondropirwin

@squirrelnotsam

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@defenderrosetyler

@screechingartisancashbailiff

@thecreatiivecorner

@vicmc624

@busy-bee-angel-misska

@justanotherwinchester

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@idksupernatural

@lyarr24

@amandamdiehl

@miraclesoflove

@emoryhemsworth

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel

@softsebastian

@tatted-trina6

@anaelsbrunette

@hayleeharling

@flamencodiva

@coldmuffinbanditshoe

@dirty-pan-goblin

@itmejado

@supernatural3002

@teresa-67

@thoughts-and-funnies

@hearteyes-j2

@miss-nerd95

@writers-whirlwind

@peaches007

@bobbie3939

@lunarmoon8

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@pink-sparkly-witch

@msmarvelouswinchester

@akshi8278

@love-jackles-37-blog

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@bobbie3939

Series Tag List:

@that-one-gay-girl

@prettysourabbie

@fanfictionismydeath

@sexyvixen7

@originalsoulcollector

@thevelvetseries

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #jensen x you #rpf #real person fiction #x reader inserts #spn fanficiton #spn fanfic #spn series #jensen ackles x reader series #jawritter #dean winchester #where the green grass grows

197 notes · View notes

namjoonchronicles · 4 years ago

Text

closure |nj

↳ pairing namjoon, reader

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship, melodrama

↳ words 3,775k

↳ summary some stories aren't meant to be understood, they're just written to be heard.

↳ warning depression; major death of side character, suicide

↳ song 'feel something' by clairo, 'to love someone else' by avery lynch, 'chernobyl' by alec bailey

Truly, the nights are filled with unspoken stories. When he took your hand in his and looked deep into your eye with those soft concerned gaze, you were home. He cupped your chin, curled a strand of your hair behind your ear and studied your entire face.

“What’s that look?” his voice swam in your semi-consciousness, “I know that look. That look pains me, takes me to the edge, makes me curl my toes, that look…”

Your eyes flutter wondrously at his lashes, his Cupid’s bow and supple lips, along with a stricken smile you asked him quizzically, “I am alright, you have nothing to worry about…”

Namjoon thumbed your cheek and it traced down to your smile line, the curve at the edge of your lips, and you know he felt the trembles as you forced the smile. Namjoon’s eyes trail up to meet yours again, he starts chewing the insides of his cheek, hollowing them.

“You are faking the smile,” and he softens when he sees your eyes gleaming with tears. Upon this, he collected your head into his arms and cushioned by his chest. He passes a long lingering kiss atop of your head, cradling your head while your arms are low on his hip, trying to barely hold on. At the time, he felt like a pillar, holding you together in all your ruins. His stature, the scent of his aftershave, the makings of his shirts and the smell of his skin— it all rushed over your senses like a tsunami. The kind of comfort he was, such a calming presence for a cyclone-bearing human you were.

Rush of emotions. It builds up.

And up.

And overflows.

You are an enigma Namjoon is scrambling to find out. A tough shell of a crab, with walls built high and thick. Like a lost traveler with a single map that’s ever changing in its path, ever evolving— you were that map. The verandah's wooden panel wet from the late afternoon rain, the hammock under the small roof at the edge, lay static in its place until Namjoon put his enormous weight on it. One leg dangling out, arm spread and waiting for you to grab them. He bracketed your waist and lifted you from the floor and into his lap like a child. He has a bottle of soda by the side, its lid snapped open. Laying your back on his hard, defined pectoral chest, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulder somewhat lifted a bit. Namjoon knows, and he knows this without you saying a word— he knows that you had been fighting many battles alone, and with yourself. The battles had wrung you out, strewn you in and silenced you. Constantly, insistently the world is demanding a piece of you to give out. At this place and time, it seemed incredibly impossible to be at complete peace. You could almost give in— tempted to lay in defeat. You gave it your all, and they gave you nothing.

“It’ll hurt for awhile, but it will get better,” you suddenly broke the silence. Namjoon hummed back, either confused or surprised at the sudden remark. You turned sideways and up, to look at the view of his jaw. He tips his head back, drinking down the soda in his left hand. The thin fabrics of his sleeveless tanks, left almost nothing to the imagination. He tutted his tongue in response to what you said.

“That’s a nice saying…” his voice dropped an octave lower when he is relaxing like this with you. You were the few humans in the world he would appreciate silence with. You switched to face him, him between your legs as you sat up with a big gaping smile on your face, disbelieved.

“You’re the one who told me that…” emphasizing on him. You filled the gaps between his legs with your own, sandwiched as you sat opposed to him. Your toes next to his head and him grinning like he kept a secret from the world. After much struggle to get comfortable, you said,

“You told me that when my grandmother passed away that night in January… I remember it clearly, just like it was yesterday…

I was in the elevator with her lifeless body on the casket and not a drop of tears left my eye…

I started wondering if there was something wrong with me…”

Namjoon wrapped his palm over your ankles— the ankles you hated so much because you think they are unappealing, he thumbs the protruding bone affectionately, brought it to his stomach and started massaging it with his free hand. All the while you were reminiscing.

“And you told me that I was so hurt, I couldn’t cry. How I am used to fabricating my pain for the sake of others… that when I was expected to cry, I couldn’t. And wouldn’t. How I took being strong quite literally…” Your voice slowed down, your eyes casted to the view of his fingers, nimbling over your skin.

“And today, the same thing happened… but today, I chose not to be too strong,” you held your breath for a moment, and exhaled shakily. The emotions aren’t all gone; the remnants are still here, clinging on you like a stubborn stain on the wall left by the old frames that were no longer there. Coiling around you like a shadow at every hint of bright light. The guilt was paralyzing you to the point of tears.

“A friend of mine was taken today…” you painted a smile on your face but Namjoon didn’t etch one, one bit. His fingers stopped massaging briefly, before it continued.

“You’ve met him once, if you remembered, his name is Hoseok,” you wiped a single drop of tear, “He was a firm owner, a lawyer. We met at the convention…”

“... back in 2015.” Namjoon finished your sentences.

At the 2015 International Pharmaceutical Convention, 7 years ago...

Flourishing, the crowd of intelligent people came in with a big proud smile, wearing lanyards of their company. Blazers, heels, jewelries, research posters, new pharmaceutical breakthroughs, projects and investors circles. The big pharma are divided in sections.

Walking toward the condiments vendor for a quick refreshment, you were approached by a man. Tall, his face turned away from your view as he was speaking to another colleague. He hijacked your turn to access the vendors, unknowingly, and you weren’t exactly the kind to speak up when a stranger does this to you, so you backed away a little and forced out a smile, gazing down at your toes.

“Hey, I think I know your name…” this mysterious figure suddenly says, “Still letting others go first before you, huh?” In such a friendly tone, your mind began racing to decipher his voice and face when you shot your gaze up to meet his. The same disarming smile, perfectly lined teeth and just the right amount of cologne, wafted around your nose— was a face familiar from the years back.

“Hoseok? Jung Hoseok?” he mentions his name after a long pause from you.

You were tongue-tied, mind-riddled from such a sudden meeting. You were unprepared and it must have shown all over your face the way he hisses away, wearing a lopsided smile and gruffly saying, “Don’t be like that… Do you really not know me? Have I mistook you for someone else?” He suddenly shifted his weight to another foot, crossed his arm and placed his forefinger under his chin, gazing at the corner of the massive hall, thinking.

“Ankles, and that old wristwatch, it’s definitely you…” his pondering face switches to a cheerful smile in a matter of seconds and you could not have been even more right that this was your old friend whom you hadn’t contacted in years. All the way back in college.

“Oh my, it’s you…!” You gasped, trying to recover from the embarrassing delay, “Wow, you look amazing… How are you! How have you been?”

Hoseok exchanged your late recalling with a burst of laughter of his own.

“I own a firm now,” you heard him say. It was the first thing he said, and it showed just how much pride he took in it. Which was fair. Back then he was struggling to find his footing, trying to find a job and getting rejected at interviews— it was you whom he shared those stories with. Over late night coffee, late night conversations and texts; he talks about his days, sharing with you his strange humors. You were glad that he finally found what he liked to do; at least that's what you assumed he liked because you clearly remembered that he had different interests.

“So what about the photography business? Your freelance job?” you hesitantly asked.

You could see how his smile and whole stature faltered briefly at the mention of it. You knew that his family was against it— was against anything that isn’t bringing back money— passion or not, it wasn’t something his family wanted him to do. Besides, his father’s firm needs managing, and what other way to continue the business if not having a son that is doing law as well.

“Folded,” his cheeks puffed and deflated, “Sold everything including the antique camera, the analogues, the films… everything.”

Your heart thudded strangely. You knew just how much he loved photography. It was the reason why you both got close back then. Your passion to everything artistic and his passion to capture everything beautiful. You remember so well, how his face lights up at the mention of photography, how he was so willing to teach you how to use the cameras you’ve never seen, and how he shares all his work with you, including the new one he was currently working on. You had access to all of his digital work and manuscript. And it was unfortunate that all these had to go away, leaving nothing to the memory. Nothing to hold close. It probably killed him as well. But what could he have done?

“How about you?” the conversation now shifts to your side. You twisted the ring around your ring finger and showed it to him.

“Awesome!” He gleams. So delighted.

“He is here somewhere, I don’t know where he went… but he should find me in a few minutes,” you looked around.

“You were getting something from the vendor?” Hoseok asked, but you shook your head. You don’t feel like drinking now.

Hoseok gradually finds out how your life is, where you’ve worked and places you’ve been.

“And you met Namjoon at work?”

“Pretty much, he is in the investors group. We met once, talking about a big pharma project and he was one of the champions supporting the good cause, so I owed him a lot,” you shrugged as to say, the rest is history.

“So he made you marry him to pay up all your emotional debts?” Hoseok jokes.

“Not exactly but… you know how I am. I can be very difficult to convince, especially when I am so comfortable with the lifestyles I already have. I dread to be a housewife so when he understood that, everything else falls into place,” you added and caught a tall figure walking along the hallway, dashing in his slick back hair, lanyards dangling.

Blazers flailing, white dress shirt and slacks make up the shapes of his defined abs and thighs. He walks with his head hanging slightly downwards as if he was trying not to catch anyone’s attention but was failing. Everyone turned their head towards him the moment he stepped inside the hall.

He stopped midway and tugged his left sleeve back. His Patek Phillipe Nautilus shimmering handsomely under the spotlight as he studied the time. He lifts his eyes up to scan the room through his brows and pursed lips, wondering where his wife was at the promised time.

You raised your arm slightly and the smoldering figure of a man twitches a big smile and a small bite on his lower lip, making his way to you. Completely aware about the man that was nearby you as he plants a chaste, enveloping kiss on your lips.

“This is Namjoon, Kim Namjoon…” You placed your hand on the small of his back and he reached out to Hoseok first for a handshake, again, his wristwatch peeking out when he covers the handshake with the left hand.

“Sweetheart, this is Hoseok, Jung Hoseok. He is a lawyer…” you introduced them both and Hoseok handed him his name card. Namjoon waits for you to further elaborate how you seemed so friendly with this man. And you can’t say that Hoseok was in-fact your old best friend whom you cut connections with because you’ve had feelings for him when he was in love with someone else. So you say, “An old friend.”

You sighed in relief when Namjoon didn’t catch the extended pause, but you can’t help thinking that he might question more later in the ride home. But for now, Namjoon’s bright smile seems to captivate the whole room’s attention. Small talks, and brief discussion about the direction of the convention and what he thinks about it, comes naturally. But he makes sure you don’t feel left out by the conversation by constantly adding your pharma company name in the picture.

“Had it not been my darling, the company would have gone downhill with their outdated scheduling methods and utter refusal to accept reformations according to modernization,” Namjoon added, and while he says so, so professionally and with full alluring prospects of a seasoned business man, his hand was trailing down the curve of your ass and gently squeezing them— out of Hoseok’s sight. Had you been a terrible pretender, you would have moaned out of context. You can thank your overflowing control for that. You were also cursing his name in the back of your mind and he will have an earful of it when you get home later.

“She single-handedly save the multi-billionaire company from their biggest downfall from the company’s incompetent leader,” Hoseok added, “Also they had a lot of legal issues at the time. I was in-charge of the corporate files before they shifted to joint-venture with Daehan Pharmaceuticals… it was a mess already. Corruption, bribes and unreliable auditing data.”

“Wait…” you intruded, “You were in the pharma that long? So we could have met?”

Hoseok gave you a lopsided smile and nodded. He further explained how he kept sending his colleagues to do site visits because he wants to avoid seeing you. This is where Namjoon begins to realise that you guys might be more than just friends because he asked,

“Why is that?”

Hoseok began his answer with a shrug of his shoulder and pursing his lips. After a brief thought, he admits, “Because at the time, we weren’t talking anymore. She would know why,” He opens his mouth to say more, but glancing down at your wedding ring, he didn’t.

If Hoseok remembered clearly, he was talking to you about a girl he had been pursuing. It was the first time he ever revealed something like that, all along you knew each other. You were studying for your final year and had been bludgeoned with assignments. There wasn’t a right time to tell you until one day on April 17th, he said he was finally going to ask this girl if she would be his girlfriend. A little info on her was that she was in a toxic relationship she was trying to get out from. She didn’t ask Hoseok to wait, but Hoseok was so in love with her, he didn’t mind how long it would take. She requested for time and space. Another man claimed her as his girlfriend when she didn’t say yes or no. Another two were also after her. Her ex boyfriend returned after months of leaving her. Just at the same time Hoseok was allowing her in his life.

When he shared you that information, you felt so betrayed somehow. He was always preaching about how being single is the best way to live and he turned around and did things like this. Pursuing a relationship. You were stubborn, you had egos you wanted to defend. Everything regarding relationships, you refuse to acknowledge. And any slight differences in your opinions were enough to break a relationship, even a strong friendship like you and Hoseok shared at the time. You once confessed to Hoseok that you liked him and he couldn’t return the same feelings. So you accused him of loving someone else and he denied that. When this happened, you felt like you were lied to. Because Hoseok, at the time that you two knew each other, was already having eyes on someone else, treating you as a placeholder, sharing emotions until the girl was eventually available for him.

Then he dropped you.

Things would have been different if he just told the truth. That he was indeed in love with someone when you confessed to him. Things would be much easier and it wouldn’t have gone deeper than it was. You would have walked away, unhurt and without knowing each other at a depth that you’d have to crawl out from. But Hoseok didn’t want to lose you. For some reason, he kept the friendship despite being unable to return your feelings, fabricating attention and giving hopes that he might one day change his feelings. Had you walked out earlier, you wouldn’t have resorted to deleting all contacts with him. His Instagram account, all his numbers, his pictures, galleries. The assignments he helped you with, the emotional support, the ice cream dates and late night phone calls. You would take it all away.

You deleted him from your life, only for him to tiptoe around the same company as yours— afraid of being known but unsure of what he did wrong. You decided that you would punish him that way. By leaving him with no answers of why you left.

“Will you be joining the closing ceremony dinner at Hyatt?” Namjoon politely asked. Noticing that the conversation had run down.

“Perhaps I will. I have to keep the firm going for the wife and kids to eat,” Hoseok perked up, and it was the first time he ever revealed about his marital status all through the conversation.

“Oh, you married her?” the delight in your voice was sincere, you are so happy for him. But his answers weren’t what you expected.

“No I didn’t. She left me for someone else, she was never honest with me, and I was only hearing the things I wanted to hear,” Hoseok rubs his knuckle and politely excused himself when he saw Namjoon was approached by an entourage of bodyguards that guide you and your husband to the next section of the convention. No numbers were exchanged to insinuate a rekindled relationship. It’s like you both understood that you could never return to what you were before. You both are leading different lives now, with different people and different phases. But you hoped he knew just how much he meant to you back then.

Hoseok walked away with a lightened shoulders. Now that he has seen you face-to-face and sure of what life you’re living, he felt a little at ease and a little envious. In the car you once rode with him, this broken-down Honda Civic, divorce papers were scattered on the front seat. The top-most letter being the child custody granted to his wife. His firm is also on the verge of bankruptcy and he was laid off from his contract with the pharma, this convention being the last one he will ever attend. After you left his life, he was burdened with one bad luck after the other. And he was at his last strand of hope when he came to the building. He saw you gracefully presenting on the stage about the medication you have been working on, like how he always wished to see. You were so cool, so engaging, so intelligent in your presence. Namjoon is the ultimate husband you wished for, and of course, you would concede for a man that was at your level. Knowing you as long as he did, you will not settle for less and that’s final. No discussion.

Life is good for you.

Inserting his car keys inside the keyhole, telling himself that, “That’s the price of breaking a pure heart.”

Empty bottle of soda laying on the wooden panel. Your tear-stained face, sleeping on your side under the starry night sky, while Namjoon watched you intently. He covers you with a blanket and lets you sleep. He walked inside the house, and vanished to his home office. In it, he fetches his phone and turns on his table lamp, making a call that was immediately taken.

“I want you to find the burial information on a lawyer Jung Hoseok and send some condolences bouquet,” he instructed with a low voice. The short voice call felt heavy but necessary. Hoseok’s passing was detrimental to his wife’s mental and emotional health— it was important for him and her to get the closure they both needed.

Judging from her frail figure, she won’t be able to attend the funeral. Cremation was planned as requested by Hoseok. His children will not be attending, neither is his wife. The last thing Hoseok wanted was his funeral attended by the people that was the reason for his passing. For years, he had been battling depression and anxiety. It has been a long, lonely fight.

Namjoon watches the silhouette of you, standing against the setting sun, in your all-black attire and hair tied in a bun, hugging yourself. Wind blowing the strands of your hair back at every strike. Your diamond ring twinkling at the light it reflects. The sound of traffic in the distance, honks and vehicles throttling far away.

“The funeral ended gracefully…” Namjoon broke the silence.

You dropped your head and tutted your tongue, smiling weakly.

“It’s not your fault, darling…” your husband’s footsteps padded through the wooden floors to where you were.

“Then why does it hurt so bad? Why does it still hurt so Goddamn much?!” you shrieked.

Namjoon collected you in his arms, so you would rest your head on his sturdy chest, and he whispered, barely audibly heard by you,

“Because when you love, you love with everything you have. I know that much.”

It was then he realized that one is only allowed the closure they deserved;

And, no closure is also a closure.

↳ author’s note it's been awhile, i feel like i've been waiting for my personal life to overflow before i could write something. this is just an excuse to use 'that' picture of namjoon for the banner of a story. how are you? i've recently cut contacts with someone i hold dearly in my life. upon the break, it gave me back the emotions i used to have when i am writing. all this while, i have wasted my feeling, my elaborated word choices on someone who hardly appreciate it. with him gone, i started to think clearer and see things for what they are. i am no longer shrouded by dark grey clouds of uncertainty as i was with him. it was a difficult shift, but i feel better now that he is gone from my life. i dropped a tear or two not because of the love i used to feel for him, but because i felt incapable of being loved the way i yearned. this is the second day after i broke all connection with the said man/boy/creature. i feel liberated after the whole story was written. i needed him killed in my mind. so i wrote it just that. i've returned to where i was before, and i feel absolutely fine.

104 notes · View notes