#and don’t get me started on the revenge episode

[katie618318]

I’m rewatching Party Down (again) and the way Kyle is so protective of everyone on the team is so sweet I love him sm

[wonderjanga]

Billy Pranks Hal

Billy doesn’t know the difference between pranks and straight up crime. He doesn’t know this because Freddy’s ideas of pranks are crimes. The reason this is, is because he didn’t really grown up around any other kids his age. So, Freddy’s the best example he’s got. So, when Hal pranks him, he decides to “prank” him back. By the way, during all of this, he thinks this is just lighthearted fun.

Billy (in Marvel from) gets the most brilliant idea. Though, technically it isn’t his idea, but rather Freddy’s. He’s going to hire a hooker to give Hal herpes. Pause, and run it back. He’s going to hire a hooker, bring her to the Watchtower, have her brush her teeth with Hal’s toothbrush, and then that will him herpes. Freddy said he saw it on a Southpark episode and wanted to see if it would actually work in real life. So the two talked to Ms.Bambi to see if any of her friends had the disease and sure enough she knew someone. She was a little skeptical, but when they told her the reason, she gave in. But she did end up supervising them the whole way, including going with them to the guy they were “pranking’s” house. It’s one of Billy’s favorite memories.

So, Billy approaches her as Marvel and asks her her to do it. She briefly remarks about how this is the second time she’s had to do this, but agrees as long as he pays her fare. He scrounges up the few dollars he has, pays her, and he takes her to the Watchtower. He obviously gets weird looks because why did Captain Marvel of all people come to the Watchtower with someone who looks(they didn’t want to assume) like a hooker? Meanwhile, Marvel and Ms.Hooker are chatting about being broke, ignoring the looks. Eventually they get to Hal’s room and just as they’re about to find a way in, John leaves the room next to them.

John: “Hey, Cap.” *waves, then does a double take at Ms.Hooker* “Who’s this?”

Marvel: “Hmm? Oh, this is Ms.Foxy.”

Ms.Foxy: “Hey.” *waves*

John: “Okay… Cool. Cool… Why’re you trying to get into Green Lantern’s room?”

Ms.Foxy: “Aren’t you Green Lantern?”

Marvel: “There’s like four of them actually.” *looks over to Ms.Foxy while holding up 4 fingers*

John: “There’s actually more- Never mind, you didn’t answer my question, Cap.”

Marvel: “Oh right! I’m pranking him. Ms.Foxy is going to help me.” *gestures to Ms.Foxy*

John: “Huh. Really? What’re you going to do?”

Marvel: “She’s gonna give him herpes.”

*loud silence*

John: “…What?”

Marvel: “She’s gonna give him herpes.”

John: “…okay. I thought I heard you correctly. YOU’RE GOING TO DO WHAT?!”

Marvel: *surprised by the sudden yelling* “She’s going to give him herpes- why is that so surprising?”

Ms.Foxy: “No offense, big man, but that’s not necessarily something you do just as a prank.” *Pats Marvel’s arm* “This is more getting revenge for someone hitting your dog with a car type of shit.”

John: “YES! She’s right! What did he do to you? How bad was the prank??”

Marvel: “Nothing that bad? All he did was leave a tack on my chair when we switched for monitor duty. It didn’t really do anything though except bend since it couldn’t prick me.”

John: “Okay???? Then what did he do to warrant this??” *sounds extremely distressed and confused*

Marvel: “Well, he pranked me. I’m just pranking him back.”

Ms.Foxy: “I don’t think you get what he’s trying to tell you. This isn’t really a prank, bud. It’s more like chemical warfare.”

Marvel: “Really…? I had no idea. I thought this was normal.” *sighs*

John: “Why would this be normal?”

Ms.Foxy: *ignores him* “Do you want your money back since we aren’t going to do it?”

John: “Money?”

Marvel: *also ignores him* “No, it’s fine, Ms.Foxy. Keep it.” *gives her sunny smile*

John: *takes deep breath* “Captain. Is this woman a hooker?”

Ms.Foxy: *looks over to start acknowledging him again* “I prefer the term prostitute.”

Marvel: *also starts acknowledging him again* “Yeah GL, she prefers the term prostitute. But yes, she’s a hooker.”

John: *takes a few minutes to process his words* “Captain… why is a hooker in the Watchtower?”

Marvel: “Again, prostitute. Also, she’s the one who has herpes. She was kind of needed for this entire prank to happen.”

John: “Prostitute, hooker, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that she’s a civilian. Also stop calling it a prank.”

Ms.Foxy: “He is right, you really should stop calling it that.” *nods head*

John: “Look, just get her outta here. Civilians aren’t allowed up here. Bats is gonna glare at you the same way he did to Flash when he brought someone up here.”

Marvel: “Alright alright. Noted. I won’t bring anyone else up here.” *looks over to Ms.Foxy* “Let’s head back then.”

*They leave while John is still processing everything that just went down*

[sansaorgana]

— THE SERPENT QUEEN

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Maia!Reader

SUMMARY — The Queen of The Southlands is Adar's prisoner in Mordor but her husband comes back to set her free. At least that is what they want other people to believe. In fact, they seek their revenge on the Lord Father of the Uruks and they certainly are up to no good.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The idea for this story started quite simple – Halbrand looks so hot in this episode that while rewatching I thought... what if he was like "set my wife free" instead of "let my people go"...? 🥵 And in the end the story grew much bigger plot-wise and it's quite long but I didn't want to split it in two parts because I feel like more interesting things are happening later in the story. 🙈🤣 The Reader is a Maia and she changes her forms but I did not describe how any of them look like except for a little detail that is a scar and I needed it for the plot. She is also a shape-shifter like her husband but she is known for being a serpent and she is referred to as (Y/N), which is her "Maia name" but I also gave her three other names, which are for her disguises and their meanings are explained in the fic. BTW there might be a second part to my Chrysalis fanfic! But I wanted to write something else first! 🦋

WARNINGS — Reader is not a good person, mentions of Morgoth's past abuse (towards her, Mairon and Adar), Reader is being beaten by the Orcs as their prisoner (she is a Maia, though, so it doesn't really damage her or anything... but still!), brief mentions of other prisoners dying (including children), Reader has a scar on her chest/breast, shape-shifting into a snake (can it be a tw?)

WORD COUNT — 8,500 (🙈)

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE SERPENT QUEEN

“Where did Halbrand’s wife ever learn how to use a sword?” Galadriel wondered after watching your little performance to show her that you indeed could pick the freshly forged weapon up and wield it.

You panicked at first, not knowing what to say, therefore you laid your eyes on your husband who was leaning on the wall with a smirk as he watched you. His tanned muscles, dirty from the forge’s grease, flexed in a very appealing manner as he smirked. After all, he was the master of deception, therefore you hoped he would come up with a good lie.

“That is how I fell in love with her, don’t you know?” He chuckled and shook his head, winking at you. “I started a tavern brawl once and there she was, showed up out of nowhere and pressed a knife to my throat, telling me to get out of her father’s tavern. She kicked my arse although I admit, I let her,” he added and you rolled your eyes.

“Bollocks,” you snorted at that. “Keep lying to yourself, Hal.”

Galadriel smiled at the story, however she remained vigilant.

“That does not answer my question,” she pointed out but you already felt more comfortable with lying since your husband had prepared the soil for it.

“My grandfather was a knight,” you told her. “A poor one that had been given some of his own land but he lost nearly all of his humble fortune because of gambling. He kept his sword, though, and I was his only grandchild. My old man never learnt how to wield it nor was interested in it but I picked it up quite fast. My grandfather was hesitant at first since I was a girl but he eventually gave in and taught me,” you added to make the story more believable. Galadriel, however, looked a little stunned while you grew frustrated. “Listen here, Elf, human women are stronger and more independent than you think. In the village not so far away from ours, there is this woman… Annie’s her name, am I right, Hal?” You looked at your husband with another made up lie.

“Aye, hard–headed Annie,” he nodded and Galadriel raised an eyebrow.

“She is a carpenter’s widow and when ol’ John died, Annie was left with nothing. She learnt the craft in a year and re-opened the workshop,” you told her and Galadriel seemed to be a little surprised but did not comment any further.

“Well, alright then, knight’s granddaughter,” she challenged you as she raised her own sword slightly to point its sharp tip at you. “Show me how you fight now. Holding the sword and waving it around is one thing but dueling with me is another,” she walked out of your house and you swallowed thickly, squeezing the sword’s hilt.

“Don’t overdo it,” Mairon squeezed your arm when you were on your way out. He leaned in to hiss it into your ear as he shot you a warning glance. “(Y/N), I mean it. Let her win in the end.”

You looked deep into his eyes without hiding your frustration and anger. 

“Oh? You think I would defeat her? Have you forgotten already?!” You snapped at him, lowering aggressively your white blouse from underneath your corset with your free hand to show him a scar on your breast.

The scar Lady Galadriel had left there the very last time you had duelled with her back in the First Age during the battle where she had known you under a different name and profession, which was one of Morgoth’s Lieutenants. The wound had been inflicted with a steel from Valinor and its pure light had damaged your physical form forever – no matter what shape you took, your form always had a scar in the very same spot.

Your husband looked at the scar and chuckled at the sight of it, which annoyed you further.

“Just go and do your thing but don’t make her suspicious,” he said and you fixed your blouse before following Galadriel outside but not without giving him a scolding look.

Mairon walked out of the building as well and leaned on another wall now but this time in the shadow of the building’s roof where he was able to watch your duel with the Lady of Light.

“Do not fret, it is but a friendly sparring,” she smiled at you.

“I don’t fret,” you emphasised and charged at her.

You were trying to keep your rage at bay and despite the centuries since your previous fight, you quickly found your rhythm again that resembled a gracious dance of two fierce ladies. Feeling your husband’s gaze upon you, not without feeling frustrated and humiliated, you stumbled a few times and let out a few groans of effort to look more human and less experienced than you truly were, hesitating here and there before making the next move even though it had been calculated and planned already.

The Númenorian commoners living on the same street as you and your husband these days froze in the middle of the pavement and abandoned their daily errands to watch the sparring between two foreigner women and what fascinated them the most was how this extraordinary duel was between a human and an Elf. But what they did not know was the fact that the fight in front of their eyes was even more special than they realised.

It was a fight between two old enemies and none of them was mortal. A duel between the Lady of Light, Commander of the Northern Armies of High King Gil-Galad and the Serpent Queen – the only female Lieutenant of Morgoth and then Sauron’s right hand and wife. You had been enemies with her for long centuries now and even in the songs and legends you had always been put against one another. However, that was something even she did not know of at the moment.

You finally landed on the ground, your shoulder blades hitting the pavement as you dropped your sword. She would probably win either way, which was something you had to admit to your own self bitterly, however this time you allowed it to happen much quicker than usual. The way you fell down on the ground hurt your human flesh, therefore you let out a whine and Galadriel’s eyes widened slightly. She visibly felt bad about the fierceness in which she had defeated you despite assuring you of the friendly nature of this sparring.

But throughout the fight you could feel her frustration growing when she had realised you were better than she had been expecting.

“Are you quite alright?” She asked, reaching out towards you with his hand. “You fought well. Your style reminds me of someone very powerful I had once known… Your grandfather must have been a grand knight.”

“I am fine,” you drawled out through your gritted teeth and grabbed her hand, allowing her to help you stand up while you picked up the sword from the ground. The people watching on the pavement were slowly going back to running their daily errands. “Do you think my skills are enough to fight the Orcs?” You asked, innocently.

“Yes, I think so,” Galadriel nodded with a furrowed brow and looked behind you to meet your husband’s gaze. “If your husband allows it, that is.”

“I don’t need his permission for anything,” you shrugged your arms.

“Of course,” Galadriel smiled softly. “But I’m sure Halbrand here would not want to lose you, Maira.”

“I’m not worried about that,” he approached you two and stood behind you before wrapping his strong arm around your waist. “She’s invincible, that woman,” he leaned in to kiss your cheek and you giggled. “My woman,” he added and you patted his arm playfully.

Galadriel kept smiling gently at the two of you. She was very glad her plan was working out and of course you had been making sure it would. Your husband had been playing the role of a man who wanted to have nothing to do with his heritage and you played the role of an insisting wife, motivating her man to do the right thing. A classic, old tale.

“The Southlands will prosper under your rule, of that I am sure,” Galadriel whispered with hope in her voice. “King Halbrand and Queen Maira. Your bloodline will be the bloodline of the great and righteous kings.”

“And queens,” you winked at her with a chuckle.

About that one thing you agreed with her, actually – The Southlands would prosper under your rule.

You would heal it, after all. And then you would be moving along to heal more realms and lands. Until all of Middle-earth would be nothing but perfect.

You were not sure if the volcano exploding was part of your husband’s plan. It probably was but as usual he had not told you everything and it frustrated you greatly. Either way, you had no time to discuss it with him as the dust and fire began to cause chaos and destruction. As the (self-proclaimed) Queen of The Southlands, you busied yourself with pretending to be a protector of your subjects, helping women and children to seek shelter.

The darkness and disarray made it possible for all the Orcs to break free and begin their slaughter as well. And somewhere amongst the messy battle, you were suddenly thrown on the ground with all force and attacked by the filthy creatures you had once led to the battlefield yourself.

Therefore, you knew perfectly well everything about how they were fighting and how they were thinking. Surrounded by darkness and chaos you could show the true potential of your abilities since Galadriel could not see you and find them suspicious. This way, you slayed quite a few Orcs but there were too many of them charging at you and, eventually, they kicked the sword out of your hand and held you by your hair, throwing your head back to expose your neck for the dirty blade of the biggest one amongst them.

“Mairon,” you called for him with your mind. You needed a rescue – you did not want to lose this flesh, which would separate you from your husband for another few centuries.

You had been patiently waiting for his return, hiding away from the Valar who wanted to find and judge you. If you lost your flesh now like he had once lost his, you would have to be away from him for a few more centuries. What a cruel fate it would be but perhaps that was the way for the gods to punish you from afar.

And how ironic it would be if you lost your wife because of the Orcs like your husband had once lost his as well. 

“Mairon!” You called for him again when the Orc’s blade moved closer to your neck.

Your husband, however, was busy fighting and perhaps he didn’t even sense your calling. There was only one thing you could do to save your flesh now, although it risked losing your disguise.

The human colour of your eyes subdued slowly and you allowed your pupils to narrow unnaturally as if you were a snake while one side of your human face swelled with thick, black blood flowing in your veins. The Orcs took a step back and looked at each other, confused. You quickly went back to your ordinary and innocent look, though, making them believe they had just experienced some sort of mirage.

They were only descendants of the ones who had been fighting by your side all the centuries ago before your army had turned their backs on you, leaving you in the middle of the battlefield to die from the wound Galadriel had inflicted upon you. Therefore, they could not remember you.

But, perhaps, the legend of the Serpent Queen was still being told between a father and a son amongst the Orcs. Amongst the Elves you were known as Lókë, too, just like your husband was known as Sauron. The Serpent and The Abhorred.

“I am Maira, Queen of The Southlands,” you breathed out the name of your human disguise to the Orcs, pretending to be as desperate as proud. “I am more valuable to you alive,” you added.

They were grunting between each other some things in the Black Speech, which you could understand perfectly but you pretended you could not. Finally, they agreed to let Adar decide your fate and you clenched your jaw at the mention of his name.

The one who had betrayed you and your husband. The one who had ordered the Orcs to leave you out to die in the battlefield where you had been fighting at the same time Mairon had been coronating himself. The war with the Elves had kept you apart on the day so important but you had been trying to remain hopeful – to win him a battle as his coronation gift and get your own coronation ceremony shortly after.

In fact, your husband had promised you that yours would be much grander and more beautiful if you had to have two separate ones. His had been supposed to be a humble one but yours would be the most breathtaking and splendid.

And after nearly coughing your lungs out after being wounded and naively left alone to die as if you were an ordinary mortal, you had crawled out of the battlefield, leaving a bloody trail behind you. And when you had arrived at your fortress, all you had found was Mairon’s dead body.

Knowing he would eventually come back to you, you focused on healing yourself and hiding from the outside world since now you had no army and no husband by your side, meanwhile the Valar had been searching for you. And all this time, you had been tempted to find Adar and seek your revenge but you knew your husband would not be happy that you had taken this from him. He had been the one personally slain by Adar, therefore the vengeance was his to take.

The Orcs put the shackles around your wrists and dragged you behind them to some shed where you were supposed to wait. And while you were on your way there, you finally heard him.

“(Y/N)?” You sensed a panic in his tone. “We are leaving, I am faking an injury. Where are you?”

“Go, Mairon,” you answered. “I am their prisoner and I am sure you can make an advantage of it,” you assured your husband with your mind. He was not replying for a while as if he was thinking about a new scheme.

“I will be back,” he only assured you after a while and you smirked to yourself.

“I know.”

Beaten and bruised, hair full of mud and dried out blood, you were dragged in shackles alongside other human prisoners and you were given no special treatment due to your status. Of course, despite the unpleasant experience of your human form, none of that could truly affect you because you were not bound to your flesh. 

If you truly were who you were claiming to be – a human common woman Maira – you would be long dead now, of that you were sure. In fact, you could see some of the humans dying out of exhaustion or injuries and they were mostly women and children.

Each time they were feeling worse, like the true Queen of The Southlands, you were begging for mercy and for help. And each time you were punished for that but of course nothing could damage your flesh permanently – except for pure Elven steel that represented the light of Valinor… but the Orcs did not possess such weapons, naturally.

They worked on some sort of a primitive settlement for themselves and the humans were required to help them. As a woman you were given a bit lighter jobs around and you were performing them although you wondered when would Adar finally grace you with an audience as you were gritting your teeth and wondering where your husband was and what was he doing.

And, finally, one day, while working alongside others, you spotted Lord Father taking a walk around the camp. He was talking to a few Orcs and nodding his head at their reports. 

You lifted your head up and Adar turned around this very moment as if he felt some sort of a connection between you two. Your eyes met and he tilted his head slightly when you were giving him a hateful look before going back to work.

After a short while, you were being beckoned over by the Orcs to approach them and Adar.

“You!” One of them called in his filthy, raspy voice. “Queen of The Southlands,” he addressed you with irony. “Come ‘ere, Your Majesty,” he emphasised the title as the rest laughed.

You straightened your back and walked up to them as much as the collar around your neck attached to a chain allowed you to. It was not enough, so Adar took a few steps ahead to stand closer to you and examine your face. You could feel your hatred for him growing and making your fists clench around nothing.

“What do they call you, Your Majesty? I believe your name has escaped me,” he started.

“Maira, my Lord,” you remained polite to pose as a person full of dignity no matter what circumstances were.

“Maira…” Adar hummed to himself and furrowed his brows. “The name sounds oddly familiar to me.”

Of course it did, what an idiot, you thought. You named your human disguise after your husband’s true name. And perhaps it had been a mistake, you had just realised.

“Named after my great-grandmother, I was,” you nodded at him. “I wanted to talk to you for a while now, actually. About the way you treat my people here. They need more food and water, better shelters at night, especially children,” you continued your play-pretend. “But I don’t think you want to talk to me about that, am I right?” You sighed.

“My children work as hard as your people. We all start with nothing here,” Adar pointed out and you clenched your jaw at his words.

“Yet your children walk freely and we have collars around our necks,” you told him.

“There is a price one must pay for being defeated,” he pointed out and lowered his gaze at the place where your blouse was torn, revealing a small part of your scar.

Adar furrowed his brows and lowered your blouse down with his cold finger as a shiver travelled down your spine and your heart began to pounder.

“My husband would kill you for that, my Lord,” you threatened but he ignored you.

“Where did you get a scar like this? I’ve seen you back there on the battlefield and you fought well, my Queen,” he addressed you with sarcasm, of course, “and you seemed to be experienced in combat.”

“The scar is not from any combat and I’ve been taught how to fight by my grandfather, he was a knight,” you answered his question but he kept staring at your scar and tilting his head. Was it possible that he could sense the source of the old wound? He was an Elf after all and what had poisoned you forever now was made out of Valinor’s light. “Aye, my Lord, the scar is from my past when I was a very young maiden and didn’t listen to my mama as I wandered around the woods on my own. Don’t worry, I defended myself and you should see the other guy,” you chuckled nervously and Adar finally raised his eyes to meet your gaze but he still looked unconvinced.

One of the Orcs approached him as he kept staring at you suspiciously. He whispered something into Adar’s ear and you could hear the word serpent as you realised that the same Orc had been one of those who had captured you before.

Adar nodded at him and laid his eyes upon you once more, this time even more intrigued than a moment earlier.

“My children claim you pulled a magic trick on them,” he pointed out and you had a feeling that denying it would only make it look worse for you, so you came up with another excuse.

Actually, you realised that lying was not such a difficult craft. So far, you had been mostly relying on your husband to prepare the soil for your deceptions but now, when he was not around to help, you found out it was not that hard to do it on your own.

“My grandmother was a witch, they say,” you remarked.

“You seem to be coming from a very interesting bloodline,” Adar smirked and you sighed.

“You want to talk about my ancestors, my Lord? Sure, why not. I feel myself invited for dinner then, but is it not rude to keep your guests in shackles?” You raised an eyebrow and his facial expression hardened immediately.

“Where is your husband, I wanted to ask?” He finally inquired what he had called you for in the first place.

“The hell would I know?” You shrugged your arms. “What do you need him for?”

“To send him a message that I have you,” Adar explained. “What other use are you to me if not a bargaining chip?” He pointed out. “If he doesn’t come for you, I can kill you easily and get rid of the burden.”

“He will come back,” you assured him with a head nod as your eyes became serious in an instant. “I don’t know where he is but he will not forsake me. You can expect him any day,” you added. “Not only I was left behind, my Lord, but his subjects, too.”

Adar nodded at you and dismissed you before walking away. You, however, stood still and kept staring at his back with nothing but pure hatred.

“What are you staring at?!” One of the Orcs barked at you. “Go back to work, whore!”

“You have no idea who you have just called a whore,” you only told him before turning around and going back to other prisoners. The Orc laughed at you. “Scum,” you muttered under your breath.

The day was windy and dark – like all days nowadays in the land that Adar had renamed to be Mordor. Mairon quite liked the sound of it and he thought he would not change it. Unless his wife would insist, of course. You hated everything that came from Adar, therefore you could want to change the name and he would not blame you.

If you two did not need the army of the Orcs so badly, you would probably insist on getting rid of them, too. That was how much you hated Adar and his children.

A few weeks you had suffered at the Orcs’ camp while your husband worked in Eregion with Lord Celebrimbor – pretending to be worried and heartbroken about his wife’s imprisonment, of course – but now he was finally back to free you and to continue his plan.

He had not been actually heartbroken – he knew his Serpent Queen was strong and truly invincible but he had been worried indeed. Worried that your impulsive nature had given your disguise away somehow during that time.

After turning himself in he was led in chains, with a collar around his neck, to see Adar alongside other humans captured on the way. He witnessed some people being killed for refusing to kneel in front of their new Lord and some being marked with burning iron for choosing to follow the new leader. As a man posing to be their King and protector, Mairon had to pretend to be sympathetic towards their fate.

“The King of The Southlands turned himself in, Lord Father,” one of the Orcs pushed him to stand closer to Adar who had been squinting his eyes at the man in front of him. “Says he wants to negotiate.”

“Is she alive?” Mairon asked as his voice broke a little although he knew perfectly well that you were – his sweet (Y/N), he could sense your presence from miles away now.

Adar hesitated before giving him an answer, visibly debating with himself inside of his mind.

“Worried about the witch, are you?” Adar finally asked and Mairon gritted his teeth.

What looked like him being angry at Adar for calling his wife a witch, was nothing but his anger towards you for being impulsive enough to earn such a title amongst them now.

“What are you talking about?” Mairon asked.

“Nothing,” Adar shook his head and chuckled. “She is alive and a burden to us all. Her wicked tongue and her big mouth surely are. If you want to take her, I am not going to ask for much in return. I will gladly get rid of your Queen,” Adar remarked and the Orcs laughed. 

Mairon moved uncomfortably. It was all a game, of course, but he felt real rage now at the disrespect these filthy creatures were showing to their rightful Queen.

“That is good to hear but I am here not only as her husband. I am here as the King of my people, too,” Mairon pointed out. “Let them go.”

The Orcs laughed again, which was something he had been expecting. Adar remained serious, though, and so did Mairon.

“...or yours will die,” he threatened, although as a human he was posing to be he could not do anything, of course.

Perhaps he shouldn’t be so angry with you for making too many hints about your real nature because he was giving in to the temptation himself now. It was simply impossible for creatures as proud as you two not to hint at your real greatness when you were forced to be humiliated by the circumstances.

Adar finally shook his head and snorted at Mairon’s threat.

“My people defeated the Men of these lands,” he said. “We defeated the Elves who came to their aid. We even defeated the allies, the Men from beyond the sea,” he stood up from his throne to walk up to Mairon. “There is no one left for us to fear.”

“There is one,” Mairon said to that, pretending to look hopeless and defeated. “Since Galadriel’s defeat, she sought out new allies,” he continued as Adar kept staring at him angrily but not without a hint of fear on his scarred face. “An ancient sorcerer and a Lady of Darkness, to instruct the Elves in forging a new weapon.”

The Orcs were visibly upset about the news as they looked at each other, worried.

“One you first told her about,” Mairon kept teasing to plant an idea inside Adar’s mind that he could be a source of his children’s demise. “A power over flesh,” he explained. “Do you remember those words? A power that will allow them to use your children as slaves in their army once more,” he finished his teasing. “I fled from them after finding out with whom the Elves wanted to forge an alliance,” he continued with the lie.

“Galadriel would never have anything to do with them. She spent long centuries fighting them and their evil,” Adar shook his head.

“Nothing brings people together as much as a common enemy. Perhaps she hates your children more than she hates them,” Mairon answered.

“Besides, they are both slain,” Adar chuckled nervously, trying to convince others as much as himself, therefore Mairon ignored that accusation.

“Set my wife free, let my people go, and I will tell you where they can be found, so you can destroy them and rid us both of their endless evil,” he made sure to sound a little frightened as well.

“No, Your Majesty,” Adar addressed him with irony as he moved even closer. “You will tell me everything you think you know of this sorcerer and his serpent whore now. Or I will spill the words from your throat.”

“If I die, all that I know dies with me,” Mairon pointed out. “You can’t kill me.”

“We’ll see for how long you keep that attitude,” Adar smirked before looking at one of the Orcs. “Bring her.”

You knew that your husband was back already, you could sense him for long hours now. However, you kept working as usual and pretending that you could not sense anything. The Orcs were already calling you a witch and you wanted them to think of you as an innocent village folk healer instead of a real sorceress with any grand powers because that would be too suspicious.

“You,” you felt a dirty hand grabbing you and turning you around as you nearly bumped into an Orc standing there.

“What is it?” You furrowed your brows, expecting him to inform you that you were free to go after your husband’s negotiations.

This, however, did not happen. Of course. Life would be too beautiful then.

You were dragged by the chain towards one of the wooden huts and thrown inside on the hard floor. You scratched your hands when you landed on it with your arms extended to avoid bumping your head.

“She is no part of this,” you heard a familiar voice and you raised your head as your eyes sparkled and a smile appeared on your face at the sight of your husband. 

He had a collar around his neck as well and he was as dirty and bruised as you were, chained to a wooden pillar. You wanted to run up to him but the chain around your neck was too short to be able to reach him as the Orcs laughed and they chained you to another pillar. This way you could face your husband but you could not touch him and what a great torment it truly was.

It was surely a torment much greater than the physical pain they were inflicting upon you to make him talk. And while they kicked and punched you, you dissociated – staring blankly at the wall and being grateful for the fact you were a creature powerful enough to be able to mentally leave your body like this.

“Stop it!” Mairon begged in a raspy voice as one of the Orcs kept his head still, forcing him to watch. When you laid your eyes on him once, you swore, he even faked a tear streaming down his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you heard his voice inside your head and it made you realise that the tear was not a play-pretend. Watching you being in pain was not something he enjoyed unless it was in your intimate moments – something rooted in love and mutual consent.

“I can handle that,” you answered. “What is your plan?”

“I will tell you when we are left alone by them. Can you endure a bit more, my love?” He asked, worryingly.

“I would endure centuries of that for you, Mairon,” you assured him. “I will, however, lose consciousness now,” you warned him so he would not be scared before you pulled the trick on the Orcs and forced your flesh to shut down, pretending to faint out of pain.

Enduring the pain they were causing you was easy. Watching them hurt your husband was worse even though you knew that his case was exactly like yours and none of the damage could truly take him down or become too unbearable. Watching his pain was still making your heart ache as you sobbed and begged them to stop while your head was being kept still and forced to observe like his head had been held earlier by them as well.

The Orcs were taking turns in tormenting you both and you already knew all of Mairon’s plan, which he had revealed to you when they had left you for the night, thinking you would sleep the injuries off, not knowing that rest was not something any of you needed.

One evening the Orcs brought a growling and snarling warg with a collar around his neck like yours and chained him to yet another pillar. He could not hurt any of you because of the length of his chain but they assumed his presence would make you more scared as they walked out laughing and wishing you a good night ironically.

“Aww, poor baby,” you sighed and leaned your head back on the wooden pillar behind you. “Look, my love, they keep him on such a short chain. It should be a crime,” you pointed out. “Shh, shh, sweetheart, it’s fine now,” you cooed to the warg and he barked at you angrily. “Oh, don’t be cross with me, it was not me putting you here!” You chuckled at him and took a look at your husband from the corner of your eye.

He was sitting up as well, leaning on his pillar and staring at you lovingly from between his ruffled brown hair with a soft smile.

“You’ve always liked them,” he whispered.

“What is there not to like about those big, hairy beasts that tend to bite?” You teased him with a wicked smile and he chuckled while shaking his head.

“Do you remember witnessing me like that for the first time?” He asked and you smiled at the memory.

“You stepped on me, my love,” you said and he laughed, therefore you pouted, “and I do not find it funny!”

“You were easy to overlook, my darling. You were a snake then,” he reminded you

“First of all, I was the most beautiful snake in the woods, so you should have spotted me immediately,” you teased. “Second of all, I was terrified, remember? It was the first time I transformed and I could not repeat it. I truly thought I would never go back into my old shape…”

“But then, a big werewolf stepped on you and you suddenly changed into the fair maiden that you are to scold him,” he finished the story. “My wife.”

“Your wife,” you nodded with a smile. “I recognised you immediately, my husband. I recognised you by your eyes alone even though they were yellow orbs of the beast but something about them told me it was my Mairon.”

“And you hopped on me and I took you back to the fortress and our master laughed at that, remember? He called me your dog then,” he chuckled as he shook his head but you frowned at the mention of Morgoth.

“I never liked how he would humiliate you,” you admitted.

“This humiliation I did not mind,” he said.

“This whole thing,” you looked around, “reminds me of the past. Adar treats us like our master once did – making me watch you being hurt and forcing you to witness my torment. Do you think he is inspired by what our master was doing to us? And now he is inflicting it upon… well, us?” You chuckled sadly.

“I… don’t want to remember that,” your husband winced as he leaned his head back on the pillar behind him.

“Forgive me,” you looked down.

“Do you know what pains me the most?” He asked and you raised an eyebrow at him. “That we will forever be known and remembered as his subjects. His followers and his successors. His shadows.”

“There is nothing else we can do. In Valinor we are no longer welcome,” you shrugged your arms, however the old scar nearby your heart burnt at the mention of your home where, deep down, you longed to come back.

But not without Mairon.

“They wanted to give us a chance,” your husband reminded you in a whisper.

“And you really think they would allow us back in on the same terms? Don’t be foolish,” you snorted. “We would forever be outcasts amongst them and they would never trust us. And we would have to bow our heads for the rest of our lives – bow them lower than others to remain in their good graces. I’d rather be known as our master’s shadow and forever wear the stain of being his property once than to bow down in front of anyone ever again!” You drawled out through gritted teeth with determination and Mairon met your gaze, a little taken aback by your outburst. “You are the only one I can bow my head to.”

“You do not have to bow your head to anyone, my love,” he assured you.

At that very moment you were interrupted by a filthy human working for Adar and the Orcs – he was the worst amongst all of these creatures because he was doing all these things not because he had to or out of his nature but simply because he wanted to remain in their good favours no matter what.

He laughed with contempt at the sight of you and your husband and by the stink alone you recognised that he was carrying food for you.

“Am I interrupting’ somethin’, lovebirds?” He asked, to which you and your husband said nothing. “Come on, Your Majesties,” he teased. “Not even kings and queens can go without food,” he reminded you and he had lots of reasons to because you both had been refusing to eat for days now.

He crouched down next to you, probably too scared to tease your husband or perhaps you were more pleasant for his eye. Either way, you wanted to make him regret that.

You did not enjoy being perceived as weaker than your husband only because you were a woman. One thing you had to admit about your master – he had never treated you any different because of your gender. The pain, the torture, the punishments, the responsibilities – you had been gifted the very same ones as any other.

“Why doesn’t he want to open up?” Waldreg whispered into your ear as you kept staring at your husband only, ignoring him completely. “Mayhaps he doesn’t care about you so much, does he? Mayhaps it doesn’t bother him to see you in pain, Your Majesty.”

You clenched your jaw at his words. He had absolutely no idea how much Mairon cared. How much he had been caring for centuries now. How many times he had taken your master’s anger on himself to protect you.

“Mayhaps he told you what he knew, huh?” Waldreg continued. “I’m sure he did. You tell old Waldreg everything you know about Sauron and Lókë…”

Suddenly, you turned your head around to hiss at him, letting out a sound the very same as any real serpent would. Waldreg got startled and jumped back before stumbling down and falling as you chuckled with contempt.

“Pain must be something you enjoy!” He exclaimed at you and threw the food on the floor as two Orcs hurried to his side to help him stand up.

“Oh, mayhaps I do,” you mocked the word he had been teasing you with before and you gained a kick in the face in return from one of the Orcs. Blood filled your mouth as you laughed and the warg next to you began to snarl.

“After Lord Father releases us, I’m going to kill you,” your husband told Waldreg when you were spitting the blood out of your mouth.

“Adar doesn’t even remember you two are here,” Waldreg laughed.

But you knew it was not true – you would never forget the look in Adar’s eyes at the sight of your scar. You were sure he was intrigued by you and your husband and you even had that unsettling feeling that he simply… knew who you truly were.

The Orc, still standing above you, raised his hand to strike another blow and you tensed your muscles, preparing your flesh to endure it.

“I’ll take it,” Mairon interrupted him. “Leave her, I’ll take it,” he pleaded. “She is my wife and I am responsible for her big mouth and her stunts,” he insisted.

Tears filled your eyes at that because he had begged your master the same way once after the battle you had lost – she is my wife and I am responsible for her failure. I’ll take the punishment, leave her, I beg of you.

The Orc looked at Waldreg, a little confused. But Waldreg shrugged his arms in return because it did not matter to him which one of you would be beaten – he simply enjoyed the act. Therefore, the Orc only growled at you before he approached your husband to beat him instead.

What you did not sense in all that mess was the fact Adar was standing nearby and overhearing the last few sentences, which had reminded him of the twisted couple he had known in time long gone now, yet still fresh in his memory.

Your flesh was of a human, therefore it regenerated quicker when asleep. So, some nights you and your husband allowed yourselves to drift off to the land of dreams. You had done that on the previous evening but you quickly regretted that choice because the dream you had was far from pleasant.

It was not a dream, really. It was more of a memory that you found yourself inside of once more – the long and endless road you had crawled with a bleeding wound in your chest, only to find your husband’s dead body abandoned in the fortress in the puddle of his thick, black blood.

You had sobbed and taken his cold hand into yours as you had laid upon his still chest, burying your face in the red fabric of his robe, stained with his blood now, still sensing his weak presence somewhere around the fortress but it had been ungraspable, therefore hugging his dead flesh had been all you could do. You had brushed his ginger hair one last time with a sad smile and had fallen asleep there, on top of him, sobbing and defeated. Alone.

When you opened your eyes, though, you were back to reality. And there was Adar standing above you, staring intensely. You furrowed your brows at him but he did not say anything and crouched down to remove the collar from your neck and set your hands free from the shackles before standing up again without a word. He walked over you to stand above Mairon now, waiting for him to wake up as well.

You sat up lazily, wondering what would happen now and your husband woke up as well not long after you. 

“I was in your place once,” Adar said as you watched, intrigued. Mairon was still laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling. “In the eldest of the Elder Days,” Adar continued. “Thirteen of us were chosen to be blessed of Morgoth’s hand with the promise of power,” he crouched down to be closer to your husband’s face.

You looked up to exchange a confused look with Waldreg and one of the Orcs standing by the door to the hut. That small string of connection between the three of you in that moment was nearly funny if the situation was not so serious.

“A new birth. I was led up to a dark and nameless peak. Chained and left with nobody to keep me company except for a vicious serpent coming to visit me sometimes,” Adar confessed and the pain in his voice was raw and authentic.

You saw something glistening in the dim light and, to your surprise, that was your husband’s tear streaming down his cheek. You understood why – the first Uruks had not been the only ones that Morgoth had been torturing. Despite being enemies with Adar, you had a strong connection with him through the suffering you all had endured back in the day from the hands of the one you all had been calling your master.

“And after what seemed endless thirst and hunger…” Adar continued his story. “I saw them. His servants’ faces. Sauron’s face… It was beautiful. And Lókë’s, too, for she followed him everywhere. Her eyes… Those were the very same eyes as of the serpent that had been keeping me company in those endless days and I realised she had been the one to join me in my misery. And until this day I do not know if it was her mercy, her sympathy or her wicked passion for witnessing somebody else’s pain.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat, stopping yourself with every fibre of your being from telling him that it had been sympathy – it had been nothing but pure sympathy and what had been his repayment? Betrayal.

Although some part of you understood his reasons, too. It had all been for his children. Perhaps one day you would understand this kind of love as well but it would require you to forever bind yourself to your physical form and you were not sure if it was a sacrifice you would ever be ready to make.

“Lókë wiped the dirt, sweat and blood off of my face. Sauron offered me wine, red as a blood moon,” Adar went on with his story. “He offered me wine and on that dark and nameless peak, I drank it. I drank it all.”

You saw your husband glancing at you with his teary eyes and now your own eyes were wet, too, after being reminded of that day.

“Your wife is no longer in chains. Your people have been set free,” Adar announced. “Now, tell me what you know of Sauron and Lókë,” he demanded and your husband moved his head up slightly as his blood-covered lips curved into a smile.

“Sauron has returned in a new form and his lover forged herself a new flesh as well,” your husband revealed. “I am not yet sure what shape they have taken.”

“Then of what use are you to me?” Adar asked, angrily, while standing up.

“I have something you don’t,” your husband teased him. “The trust of the Elves. Release me, release my wife,” he continued, “and we’ll go to them and I’ll seek Sauron out, so you can marshal your legions to destroy him.”

Long silence occurred, in which you assumed Adar was overthinking the proposition.

“We want the same thing you do, Lord Father,” you whispered, your voice nothing but a shaky breath. Adar turned around to look at you intensely and you pretended to startle a little. “We want Middle-earth to be free of evil.”

It was no lie – you wanted nothing else. You wanted this world to be a good and happy place. Healed.

Adar took a deep breath in and eventually nodded at Waldreg, who walked up to Mairon hesitantly.

“Do you vow allegiance to Adar, Lord Father of the Uruks?” He asked, giving you a quick glance before looking back at your husband.

You waited for Mairon’s decision first and you could see how much it costed him to say that word even though it was only a game you two were playing.

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes,” you followed.

“Then kneel,” Waldreg ordered. “Both of you,” he turned his head around to look at you.

You moved yourself up on trembling legs, pretending to be moved and scared. Your husband was still in shackles, therefore he struggled to get onto his knees and it pained you to watch him so humiliated. You approached him to help him but Adar extended his hand to stop you from any further movement. You froze and waited for your husband to get on his knees first before you would join him.

And when he was on his knees, you felt Waldreg hitting your back and making you fall down upon yours as well even though it was unnecessary because you planned on doing that anyway. You looked up at him with hatred.

“Now, swear it,” he ordered.

It was all a play-pretend, you had to remind yourself. Being on your knees in front of a man who had betrayed you once was so humiliating, though, that you wanted to cry for real. And something about Adar’s proud and intense gaze was telling you he truly knew who you were.

“I vow–” your husband began.

“With your head at my feet,” Adar interrupted him and you looked up at him with anger before you began to follow his order before your husband even moved, still taken aback by such a request.

“Not you,” Adar stopped you. “Him.”

You swallowed thickly and exchanged a look with your husband before he eventually gave in and laid his face on the ground in front of Adar’s boots.

“I vow to serve the Lord of Mordor,” your husband whispered. To the end of my days… and his,” he finished.

Adar laid his eyes on you now, still kneeling as your thighs trembled slightly.

“I vow to serve the Lord of Mordor,” you bowed your head, humbly. “Till death removes me from the responsibility,” you added.

Adar nodded and walked away. Waldreg freed your husband from his collar and his shackles although he did not look happy about it. When Mairon was finally free, you cupped his face and leaned in to press your forehead to his before kissing him briefly with a big smile to be able to hold him again.

You were given one black horse you had to share but you did not mind it at all as you hopped on it to sit behind your husband and wrap your arms around his waist before pressing your cheek to his shoulder blade.

Very slowly he was leading the horse out of the camp and when you were on the hill above it, you heard a scream of pain from the distance. Your husband stopped the horse as you both chuckled because it was the scream of Waldreg being eaten by the warg left behind in the hut. The one you had tamed during your stay there and now you had your revenge on the filthy human.

And soon, on all of them.

“You know,” you mumbled out.

“Hm?”

“I quite enjoy our adventures as Halbrand and Maira,” you admitted and squeezed your husband tighter.

“We have been tortured for weeks now, my love,” he pointed out with a laugh.

“I know but apart from that… There is a certain charm to it,” you explained.

“Yes, I am aware,” he admitted with a head nod and ordered the horse to move again. “However, we have a work to finish in Eregion.”

“Do you have a new name already?” You asked him, teasingly.

“Annatar, Lord of Gifts,” your husband answered. “You?”

“Fëanár,” you revealed and waited for his response. “The patron saint of the fire… to spark a brand new inspiration within Lord Celebrimbor’s forge,” you explained your choice.

“Soul of fire,” your husband hummed to himself. “Bold one. I like it,” he admitted and you smiled to yourself, hugging him tighter, proud of yourself.

Proud and happy to be with him. Wherever the road would take you two.

MASTERLIST

[na0koz]

To off set the happiness I wanted to ask what would happen if reader got together with someone else, or showed more interest in them than Jinx. Even with Jinx trying to stop it

Or another thought would be what if reader liked Vi more than Jinx 🏃

wait ur lowk a genius nonnie. reader liking vi more than her would actually like set her off to 10000%. kinda stole that scene from season 1 episode 9 with jinx’s tea party lol.

toxic!jinx masterlist

VERY DARK!! just block me if you don’t like it.

cw: jinx breaking in, implied kidnapping, use of guns, jinx is just insane, f!reader

since you met jinx’s family, you’ve been round the family home for dinner a couple more times. in one of those times, vi managed to get your instagram. probably while jinx was out of the room to save her ripping vi’s arms off.

ever since that day, you’ve been messaging vi a lot on instagram. however, you were very careful not to have jinx find out. you knew she wouldn’t like it, but you can’t help it when vi just gets you.

a month or two passes, and you’ve grown close to vi. it’s probably not the best idea you’ve had, given how jinx acts about you getting close to people she doesn’t know. somehow you think she’d be even worse if she found out how close you had gotten to her sister.

one day, you’re not answering the stream of texts jinx has sent you. she may have only sent them a few minutes ago but over time you’ve become the fastest replier in the game. something was up. she instinctively checks your location. a bar? you don’t drink, what could you possibly be doing there? cheating, jinx thinks.

it’s not that she doesn’t trust you, she’s just paranoid. she needs you all to herself, completely.

she grabs a jacket and starts to head to the bar almost immediately.

she glances around once she’s inside, looking for any sign of you. it was simple. she just had to grab you and act like there was some sort of emergency and you had to leave, while simultaneously taking note of whoever you were with.

she finally notices you, and to jinx’s absolute horror, you’re standing suspiciously close to her dickhead of a sister. she knew vi was a piece of shit, a sleaze at best, especially after her and her ex broke things off, but this really takes the cake.

a surprise to everyone, you especially if you knew she was there, jinx leaves. she’s too angry to think straight but she knows one thing, she needs to be alone when she’s like this. for the benefit of anyone who might cross her.

the night lingers on and you continue having fun with vi, unbeknownst to both of you, jinx was crafting her cruelest plan yet.

-

jinx manages to act normal for the following couple of weeks, despite her literally wanting to kill her sister and have you watch.

until finally, it was time to make the both of you suffer the consequences of your actions.

the first step was breaking into your apartment, that was easy. she had the key she made herself a few months into your relationship and she was no stranger to popping by when you were asleep to check on you. she didn’t really class it as ���breaking in’ though, since she has a key that unlocks the door. sometimes jinx wonders to herself if she is actually sick in the head, but she chalks up her actions to her love for you.

next, jinx had to set up for her plan. she dragged a chair from your dining table into the middle of your apartment, the open space between the kitchen and the living room. she laid out a couple of other items by the chair, but she’ll get to those later.

what’s left was done in a haze of anger. of revenge. now all she had to do was wait for you to come home.

she was sat on the counter, swinging her legs when she hears the lock click in your front door. here goes.

you see jinx first, setting your bag down and kicking off your shoes. “oh, hey baby.” you notice the glint in her eye, the one you see when she’s angry.

“are.. you okay?”

jinx says nothing, just glancing behind her to the chair she had setup earlier. you follow her gaze and gasp when you finally see what she’s done.

vi bound to the chair by the same turquoise rope jinx had used on you so many times, in situations you could say were the complete opposite to the one you had just got into.

instinctively, you start to rush towards vi, until you feel something cold on your arm stopping you. you look to jinx and see her arm outstretched in front of you. clutched in her hand was a gun.

your eyes widened. you knew she had knives but not a gun. when you thought about it though, it wasn’t too surprising. you realise how you’ve kind of just ignored how fucked up she is.

“jinx. it’s.. you need to calm down,” you try your best to hide the tremble in your voice. anything to try and spare your, vi’s, all of your lives.

jinx lowers her arm and hops off the counter. she paces slowly between you, rooted to the spot, and vi, breathing heavily in the chair she was tied to.

“i am calm. you guys are the ones that need to calm down.” she definitely does not sound calm. her eyes are wide and hands trembling, she’s manic.

vi makes eye contact with you, you can see she’s just as surprised as you. i mean, it’s probably a good thing this hasn’t happened before, right?

jinx stops in front of you and gently takes her hand. her hands are warm, soft. feels strange given the situation. she pulls you closer to vi, closer, closer, until the three of you can feel each other’s breath on your faces.

you see the glint of the gun in between your faces. your breath shakes as it sways towards you, to vi, to jinx.

“i wonder.. who deserves this the most?” jinx mused, as if she was talking to herself.

“you see, there’s one bullet in here, and i don’t know who’s gonna get it.”

tears fall from your eyes now. you regret dismissing how crazy jinx is, and roping vi, her own sister, into this mess.

the gun swings back to you and you hear jinx click off the safety, the metal grinding. her hands are trembling, from adrenaline no doubt. she’s enjoying this. her finger crawls its way to the trigger, and she pulls back, agonisingly slow.

your eyes squeeze shut, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sob. after what feels like hours, the trigger ticks. silence. are you dead? you can’t even hear vi’s breathing.

“ah.” jinx’s voice pierces your eardrums. you’re alive.

your knees buckle, but jinx doesn’t let you fall. she catches you and holds you up with surprising force. you glance at her and through the blur of your tears, she’s smiling.

“looks like it’s either me or you, sis,” she laughs while tapping vi on the chest with the barrel.

she turns to you. “who should go first? whoever you like the most, up to you.”

so that’s what this is about. jinx has got jealous before, never to this extent though.

you beg her to stop over and over, barely able to get your words out as tears fall down your cheeks. pleading, you reach up to jinx’s face with violently shaking hands, trying anything to get her to stop.

she swats your hand away with the gun, causing you to gasp and cry harder. you have to use every cell in your body not to scream.

“choose one of us,” she orders.

you literally cannot speak now, you’re hyperventilating while looking between the two sisters. vi looks equally as scared as you do. she hasn’t said a word.

“mkay. we’ll go with violet here since you like her so much.” the gun moves to vi’s jaw. jinx’s finger flexes on the trigger. she flashes a grin at you, she’s not done yet though.

the sound of the trigger being pulled rings through your apartment. nothing. vi is alive, letting out a loud breath and she slumps down in the chair, as much as the rope restraining her will allow.

“uh ohh..” jinx practically sings. “my turn. we all know what that means.”

she brings the gun under her own jaw. the truth is, there aren’t any bullets in the gun. she knows that. she just needs to scare both of you as much as she can. of course she doesn’t actually want to hurt you.

she pulls the trigger faster than expected. you cry out, this time jinx lets you fall to your knees.

again, nothing.

jinx lets her head flop down, looking between you and vi with low eyes.

“i was just messin’ with you guys! there ain’t any bullets in here. wouldn’t actually kill ya,” she’s laughing. after all this she’s laughing.

“you,” she prods vi in the chest with one pale finger. “you can stay away from her.”

she crouches to your level on the floor. “and you can stop givin’ me reasons to do shit like this. mkay baby?”

you weakly nod. you just need this to be over.

“great! see you later, love ya.” she pecks your forehead before skipping out of your apartment.

she leaves everything behind. the gun, vi still in the chair, you sobbing.

what. the. fuck.

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 8

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Summary: Discovering that JJ wasn’t your biological brother was hard. Learning that both his dads were terrible was even worse. But he’s your brother, no matter what, and you’ll always have his back. You persuade Rafe to to help them get to Morocco and for you to go with them. Rafe can seek his revenge on Groff, and you can help your little family find their treasure.

A/N: Part 2 has dropped and I’m still an emotional wreck. Sofia is still present but that storyline is different in my universe. Each of my parts will contain 2/3 episodes each so they will be a bit longer, and will probably be 2 parts.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: lil bit of smut at the end bc of course I had to throw that in there. ;) (oral f receiving)

JJ bursts through the back patio door into the house, panting hard and leaning forward with his hands on his knees. Startled, you leap up from the couch where you’d been watching V play on the floor.

“J, what’s going on?” you ask, rushing over to him after a quick glance to ensure V is safe.

“Hey, sis,” he says between breaths, then mutters under his breath, “Well, maybe not sis anymore.”

You catch his words despite his attempt to muffle them. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, you shove it into his hands. “Calm down and talk to me.”

JJ takes a long drink before blurting out, “It means my whole life’s been a lie. You’re not my sister, and Luke’s not my dad.”

The words stun you. You glance over JJ’s shoulder and spot Rafe standing in the hallway, drawn by the commotion. You subtly shake your head, signaling him to stay back. JJ wouldn’t open up with Rafe hovering.

“That letter,” JJ continues, his voice trembling. “The one from Genrette? Dad told me all about it. He said I’m his grandson. Larissa is my mom.”

You laugh softly, more out of shock than amusement. “JJ, that baby died. We all know the story. Dad’s probably just messing with you.”

“No,” JJ says firmly, shaking his head. “He told me my real dad dropped me off with him. He and Larissa were close, and he thought I’d be better off with Luke. Luke took me in, and then a couple weeks later, Larissa was found dead. They lied about me so no one would suspect I’d been given away.”

You stare at him, trying to process the revelation. “So, Larissa’s your mom, and—”

“Chandler Groff is my dad,” JJ interjects, his voice rising. “Think about it—when we went to Goat Island, Genrett only knew three names: yours, mine, and Sarah’s. It makes sense for Sarah; she’s a Kook and a Cameron. But how did they know us?”

“Dad said I used to play in the gardens when he worked there. I just assumed you were there too. I don’t know how long he worked there—I was only three. I didn’t think much of it when Genrette knew my name,” you reply, trying to rationalize it all, though doubt creeps in.

“Look, Dad’s a lot of things, but I don’t think he’s lying about this,” JJ says, his tone softer now.

“Okay,” you say, trailing off as you take it all in. Then, trying to lighten the mood, you smirk. “So, if this is true, that makes you a Kook by blood.”

JJ shoves you playfully, suppressing a laugh. “Never. P4L, baby. And this changes nothing between us. You’re still my big annoying sister.”

You smile, pulling him into a hug. “I’ve been stuck with you for nineteen years, J. I’m not letting go now.”

JJ rests his head on your shoulder for a moment, the weight of the conversation still lingering. Then he pulls away. “Alright, I gotta go find Kie and the others.”

“Bye, J.” You watch as he rushes out of the house and down the dock.

Rafe steps into the kitchen, exhaling sharply. “Don’t start,” you warn before he can say anything.

“I wasn’t gonna,” he replies, dragging out his words. “But damn, that’s wild. Your brother’s a Genrett. Hope this doesn’t make him a partner in my deal.”

You glare at him, unamused. “You don’t even know if my dad’s telling the truth.”

“Maybe. But it could explain the lies.” Rafe shrugs. He knows how Figure Eight people operate better than you ever will.

“Can we just drop it?” you plead, needing a distraction. You move back to V, who’s now fussing with a toy.

Rafe follows you to the couch, clearly not ready to let it go. “Speaking of Hollis and Groff…”

You roll your eyes. “What now?”

“I haven’t heard anything about the deal,” he says, watching for your reaction.

“Weird.” You give a short, dismissive response, hoping he’ll take the hint.

Thankfully, he does. Leaning down, he pinches V’s cheek and kisses you on the head before heading out to the patio.

A knock at the door interrupts the moment. To your surprise, it’s Sarah. You pull her into a tight hug, realizing how much you’ve missed your old friends since settling into this new life with Rafe and V.

“Hey. Rafe home?” Sarah asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, he’s outside. Everything okay?” you ask, taking the slip of paper she hands you. It’s about a zoning change in the Cut.

“Great, more good news,” you mutter sarcastically, gesturing for Sarah to head out to the patio. You skim the notice, letting the Cameron siblings talk in private.

Later, after putting V down for a nap, you catch Sarah storming out of the house. You find Rafe slumped on the patio, his head in his hands.

“What happened?” you ask, placing a hand on the back of his neck and rubbing down in between his shoulder blades..

“She wouldn’t even let me touch her,” he mumbles, his voice thick with emotion. “I just want my family back.” He pulls you close, burying his face against your stomach.

“It’s going to take time, Rafe,” you say softly, scratching his scalp with your nails.. “You’ll get there.”

His shoulders relax under your touch. Looking up at you, he smiles faintly. “Thanks,” he whispers, standing to kiss you deeply before sitting back down.

Your phone buzzes with a text from JJ in the Pogue group chat:

JJ, 4:30 PM: We need everyone we can get. I know you love the high life now, but you’re a P4L, sis. We need you too.

You look up at Rafe. “Mind watching V for a bit? I want to go to the town meeting. It’s important.” You hand him the zoning notice.

“Why the fuck do you care about this?” Rafe scoffs. “You live here now. That doesn’t concern you.”

You glare at him. “This is the kind of attitude that’s going to get you nowhere with Sarah. The Cut is still my home. I’m still a Pogue, and I’m going. Watch V.”

Without waiting for his reply, you grab your keys and walk out.

.⭒☆━━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━━☆⭒.

The meeting hall buzzes with tension as you arrive, stepping into a sea of familiar faces. The Pogues are here in full force, just as you expected. Loyalty runs deep, and none of you are known for backing down without a fight. You wave to your group, making your way through the crowd, and settle into a seat next to JJ. He’s tense, jaw clenched, fingers tapping rhythmically against the table as his eyes flicker toward the far side of the room.

That’s when you see them—Topper, his mother, and Ruthie. The smugness on their faces makes your blood boil. You glare, your expression sharp enough to cut glass, but when they smirk at you, you let your sarcasm fly. With a quick, deliberate motion, you raise your middle finger. Topper’s mother gasps audibly, turning away with a look of pure disgust, while Topper and Ruthie exchange uneasy glances before staring straight ahead, feigning composure.

The meeting begins, and the air grows heavy. The topic: the property you once called home. The land that held your childhood memories. People exchange confused glances, murmurs rippling through the crowd. The leader of the meeting steps forward, explaining that the floor is open for anyone to speak.

Before you can react, JJ bolts upright, ready to unload his anger. You and John B yank him back into his seat.

“No, not you,” you hiss, glancing around nervously.

John B stands, and his voice fills the room. He speaks from the heart, his words a powerful blend of truth and desperation. But as he finishes, the silence feels deafening. That’s when Dale stands, his presence heavy and calculated.

Dale’s voice is smooth, almost rehearsed, as he talks about an “injunction” that supposedly invalidates JJ’s auction win. He mentions a promissory note that the bank failed to honor, claiming it renders the sale void. The crowd shifts uneasily, whispers of confusion and anger spreading like wildfire.

Then, Dale gestures toward the back of the room. “The rightful owner,” he says.

Luke rises, and the room explodes into chaos. Shouts echo as people recognize him. You feel your chest tighten, anger and betrayal clashing in a storm inside you.

“Sorry,” Luke says, his voice hollow. His apology feels like a slap in the face.

“Sorry?” JJ spits, his voice venomous.

“Save it,” you snap, cutting Luke off.

Dale drones on, spewing corporate jargon about what they plan to do with the land. But you know better. You see through the lies. They want to strip it away, crush the community, and take what little they all have left.

Your anger boils over. You charge at your father, shoving him hard.

Kie’s voice breaks through. She turns around to stare down Luke,  “JJ and y/n loved you, they shouldn’t have but they did,” she says, anger in her eyes.

“You only ever looked out for yourself! You never gave a shit about us” you shout, the room’s noise dimming under the weight of your words.

Your father doesn’t fight back, his expression a mixture of guilt and sadness.

You falter for a moment, your chest heaving, but the rage inside you keeps burning.

Behind you, JJ suddenly storms past, his movements purposeful. You barely have time to react before he grabs a chair and hurls it through the nearest window. The sound of shattering glass ignites the room into chaos. Police officers rush in, but JJ doesn’t back down. He fights them, swinging and shouting until they finally wrestle him into a squad car.

“Guys, get him!” you yell to Pope and John B.

Pope leaps into action, climbing onto the back of the truck. With a loud crash, he smashes the rear window, and he and John B pull JJ out.

“Go, J! You’ll be fine—you always are,” you say, grabbing his face and locking eyes with him for a moment. Then you push him to run, and he takes off into the night.

Your group gathers around you, their faces tense but resolute.

“I gotta get home to V. You got him?”

Pope nods. “We got him. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I know you do, just wanted to hear it,” you reply, watching them disappear after JJ.

By the time you get home, your anger is still simmering. You step inside to find Rafe lounging on the couch with V in his arms. He looks up as you enter, his expression cautious.

“How was it?” he asks, his voice careful.

You ignore him, your thoughts too clouded by everything that’s happened. Despite the changes Rafe has made, despite the family you’ve built together, there’s a part of you that can’t separate him from the Kooks.

“Hello?” he calls, his voice following you into the kitchen.

“Like you give a shit,” you mutter, just loud enough for him to hear.

Rafe sets V in her high chair and walks toward you. “What’d you say?”

You turn, and he’s already towering over you. “Like. You. Give. A. Shit.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he snaps, his tone sharper now. “You come in upset, and I’m not allowed to care?”

“No, not when you’re one of them,” you fire back, your arms crossed as you glare up at him.

“What happened, y/n?” He lets out a big sigh, signaling his frustration with you.

“The rich always win—that’s what happened,” you say bitterly.

The words spill out of you, your anger finding its target. You recount the meeting in vivid detail, emphasizing every injustice, every betrayal.

“I hate them, Rafe. With every fiber of my being. And Topper and Ruthie? They were there, smirking like they owned the damn place.”

Rafe sighs, but you cut him off before he can speak.

“That place is my home. Those people are my family. They helped raise me, JJ and John B since our parents didn't care enough to. I didn’t die of malnourishment as a child thanks to Mr and Mrs. Baxter down the road. I didn’t have to wear the same 3 outfits every day, because Ms. Houlihan would provide me with her daughter’s hand-me-downs. I wouldn’t have made it out of my house alive if Mr. Maden hadn’t heard my screams when my father was beating me and my brother and intervened, taking us home with him. You will never understand what it is like to be from there. There’s an actual sense of community. We look out for each other. You couldn’t say the same for this side of the island, could you”

You continue.

“I don’t care about my house. I know you’ll protect me. I can always work something out for JJ. The people that have no choice but to stay, they still care and I care about them. Those people work their asses off every single day. All of that happened to me and I’m still proud, because of people like them. I will raise my daughter to respect them just as much as I do. Not look down on them or not care that their lives are about to be ripped from them.”

Rafe shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.

You roll your eyes, you really don't mean to take it on him, he didn't have anything to do with what happened. You just feel an insane amount of guilt coming home to this house, when all the people you love went home terrified wondering how long they have left in theirs. Rafe was partly to blame for this feeling, giving you space in his home and that’s why you couldn’t hold in that anger with him. This is just all too much for you.

“V needs a bath tonight. I’m going to bed,” you mutter, brushing past him.

Hours later, sleep still evades you. You hear Rafe come in, his footsteps soft. He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple.

“I have another meeting. Will you be okay?” he whispers.

You nod without a word, and he leaves.

Once the front door closes, you slip into V’s room. She’s sleeping peacefully, her tiny chest rising and falling rhythmically. Tears sting your eyes as you stroke her cheek.

She’ll never know the struggles you did, and for that, you’re grateful. But she’ll know where you came from. She’ll be proud of both sides of her family.

You pick her up and carry her to your bed, pulling her close. Her soft breaths lull you to sleep.

When Rafe returns, he finds the two of you curled up together. For a moment, he stands there, a small smile spreading across his face. Changing quickly, he climbs into bed, draping an arm over both of you.

As sleep takes him, the steady rhythm of your breathing and V’s soothes him, filling the room with a quiet sense of peace.

.⭒☆━━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━━☆⭒.

The next morning, sunlight filters through the blinds as you wake up, feeling lighter than you did yesterday. Glancing down, you see V laying beside you patiently, her little hands fidgeting with the blanket. A soft smile plays on your lips as you look over at Rafe, sprawled on his back with his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. Even in this unguarded state, there’s a rare peace to his face, one you don’t see often.  

Carefully, you lift V and tiptoe out of the room, letting Rafe sleep a little longer. In the kitchen, you place her in her high chair, giving her a few toys to keep her entertained while you prepare her oatmeal and set the coffee machine to brew. The scent of fresh coffee fills the air as you hum softly, stealing glances at your daughter, who babbles happily to herself.  

When Rafe eventually makes his way downstairs, coffee mug in hand, there’s a cautiousness in his step. He hesitates near the counter, watching you, unsure of where you stand after last night. You meet his gaze and close the distance between you. Without a second thought, you wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek to his chest.  

“I’m sorry for last night,” you say quietly, squeezing him a little tighter. “My outburst wasn’t fair to you.”  

Rafe doesn’t miss a beat, his arms circling your back. “You don’t need to apologize. You were right—I don’t understand. But if it’s something you’re passionate about, I care about it too. I’ll help you however I can.” He pulls back slightly to look down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  

You blink up at him, half in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that. You wanna help the Cut?” you tease lightly.  

“For you? I’d do anything,” he replies, sincerity evident in his tone. His hand cups the back of your head, drawing you into a kiss that lingers longer than either of you expected.  

The soft hiss of water boiling over breaks the moment. You pull away with a laugh, rushing to the stove to tend to V’s oatmeal. Rafe stays close, his fingers brushing your waist as he leans against the counter.  

“I’ve got to stop by the docks today,” you tell him, plating V’s food. “Left some things on the boat the other day. I’ll take her with me, and we’ll just hang out for a bit.”  

Rafe nods, sipping his coffee. “I’ve got some meetings to handle, but maybe we can meet for lunch?”  

“Sounds perfect,” you agree, leaning into him as he plants a kiss on your shoulder before heading upstairs to get ready.  

By the time you arrive at the dock, it’s mid-morning. You set up a shady little play area for V, making sure she has water and snacks. While she plays happily, you spread out a towel nearby, basking in the warm sun. Every so often, you glance over at her, marveling at how much joy she brings into your life.  

After about thirty minutes, you scoop her up and hold her to your chest, brushing your fingers through her soft, honey-blonde curls. The simple act fills you with a sense of calm and gratitude, and you lose track of time.  

It’s nearly 11:30 when you realize you need to pack up and meet Rafe. As you gather your things, movement on a nearby boat catches your eye. Hollis. You’ve only met her once, but that was enough to form a strong dislike. Despite your better judgment, you approach, intending to keep things civil for Rafe’s sake. But you freeze when someone else steps into view.  

Sofia.  

Confusion twists your features as you inch closer, straining to hear their conversation.  

“What are you gonna do? Shoot me now that I’ve exposed your scam?” Sofia’s voice is sharp, cutting through the quiet.  

You scoff silently, disbelief washing over you.  

“I risked doing this for someone I loved,” Sofia continues, her tone laced with bitterness. “Just for you to screw him over like this?”  

“Loved?” Hollis echoes mockingly. “That’s right—I met his other special lady a few weeks ago. You got your money, no? What’s the problem?”  

You hear the rustle of papers.  

“This is the legal contract,” Hollis says. “Me, Chandler, Goat Island—it’s all there. You played your boyfriend. I could ruin your family in three phone calls.”  

Sofia rushes off the boat moments later, stopping abruptly when she spots you. Her face pales, guilt written all over her.  

“How much?” you demand, your voice sharp and unwavering.  

“$25,000,” Sofia mumbles, avoiding your eyes. “Plus some—”  

You cut her off, your tone dripping with disdain. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret. Just as good as you, apparently.”  

Your glare lingers before you brush past her, the weight of what you’ve overheard sinking in.  

As you drive to meet Rafe, your thoughts churn. Sure, you’ve played him before—for the right reasons. When he was lost, blinded by his father’s expectations, you stepped in to stop him from spiraling further. But this? This was different.  

Sofia hadn’t just hurt Rafe; she’d betrayed the version of him he’s been working so hard to become. The version that puts his family first, especially V. That makes her actions feel even more unforgivable. 

.⭒☆━━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━━☆⭒.

You spot Rafe waiting for you outside the restaurant, leaning casually against his truck with a grin on his face. V lights up at the sight of him, and her little arms reach out as he scoops her up effortlessly.  

“Bout time,” he teases, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before dropping one on V’s head. “I thought you girls were gonna stand me up.”  

“Never,” you reply, forcing a playful smile, though the tension in your chest lingers. The encounter with Sofia still weighs heavy on your mind.  

The three of you settle into a cozy booth, and you do your best to keep the mood light. But your silence must have been louder than you realized because Rafe eventually breaks it.  

“How was the boat? Even though it was docked,” he jokes, trying to draw you out.  

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts. “Good,” you reply quickly. “It was a nice time for the two of us.” You glance at V, who’s happily nibbling on her crackers.  

The waiter brings your food, and while Rafe digs in with enthusiasm, you find yourself pushing your meal around on your plate.  

“Rafe,” you begin hesitantly, “I’m starting to get worried that this is a scam.”  

You’re trying to convince him some other way than exposing Sofia. She was really a nice girl, from the same place as you. You grew up together, you hung out together, worked at the country club together. Her family let you crash on their couch to get away from Luke. $25,000 can go a long way for someone like us. That town council meeting really screwed with your head. She was also really happy with Rafe and you came back just to ruin all of that.

Partly blaming yourself for that decision to betray him, not knowing it was Rafes' own words that made her do it, not you. Even though you didn't know that she overheard something he said, you've been on that end of the stick with him many times and know the pain it could cause despite you caring so deeply about him. 

He looks up from his plate, his brows knitting together. “What? You told me you’d support me in my decision. The one I made for us.” He gestures toward you and V. “Now you think I made a mistake?”  

“That’s not it,” you insist, setting your fork down. “Hollis was docked next to your boat. I overheard her saying some weird things. It just… made me uneasy, that’s all.”  

Rafe leans back, his jaw tightening as he absorbs your words. For a moment, he says nothing, then shakes his head.  

“Whatever,” he says dismissively, though there’s an edge to his tone. “It’s supposed to go through in a few days anyway. So, your opinion of what you *think* you heard doesn’t matter anymore.” His expression softens slightly as a smirk creeps onto his face. “We’ll be swimming in cash, baby.”  

The sudden change in his demeanor catches you off guard, but you decide not to push further. For now, at least. You know how stubborn Rafe can be, and pushing him too hard might only make things worse.  

As V babbles happily in her high chair, you force a smile and nod along. But deep down, the unease remains, tangled up with guilt, doubt, and the unresolved question of how to handle the truth about Sofia. 

.⭒☆━━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━━☆⭒.

You arrive home after a full day out with Rafe and V, feeling the kind of exhaustion that’s both fulfilling and draining. The park had been a blast, shopping for V had you both laughing over baby shoes and tiny outfits, and dinner ended with V fast asleep in her car seat.  

Rafe carefully carries her inside, her little face nestled against his shoulder. He whispers, "I’ve got her," as he heads upstairs to lay her in her crib. You head to your shared bedroom, the quiet of the house settling over you like a blanket.  

Changing into a tank top and sleep shorts, you sit on the edge of the bed, your mind drifting. It doesn’t take long before Rafe joins you. He walks in quietly and sits next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing gentle kisses along your shoulder. His lips are warm and unhurried, and when he moves your hair aside, you instinctively tilt your head to give him better access.  

He shifts, kneeling between your legs, his hands resting on your thighs as he continues kissing your neck. There’s a tenderness to his movements, but when he tugs at the hem of your tank top, you stop him with a raised eyebrow.  

“Really? Now?” you tease, though your tone is more amused than annoyed.  

“Just want a quick taste of you, angel,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine.  

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. Looking into his eyes, you reply, “How can I resist that?”  

Rafe doesn’t waste a second. He softly guides you to lie back on the bed, his touch firm but careful. He slips your sleep shorts down, his hands trailing along your legs as he spreads your thighs. The look in his eyes is one of complete focus, as though nothing else exists but you.  

He starts slowly, planting featherlight kisses on your inner thighs, inching closer to your center. His lips finally reach their destination, and his tongue moves in deliberate, practiced strokes. You arch your back, your fingers gripping his arm that’s wrapped around your thigh as he applies just the right amount of pressure.  

“Rafe... oh my God,” you cry out, your breath catching as the waves of your climax crash over you. He doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’ve ridden out every last sensation.  

When he finally pulls back, his chin glistening with evidence of his handiwork, he smirks and leans forward to rest his head on your stomach. His arms wrap around your waist as he clings to you, clearly satisfied with himself.  

You laugh softly, still catching your breath, and nudge him off gently. “Alright, Casanova, let’s get some sleep. I’ve got to meet my brother tomorrow.”  

Rafe groans playfully but gets up, changing into a pair of sweatpants before sliding under the covers. As you pull your shorts back on and climb into bed, he immediately reaches for you, pulling you into his arms.  

“Goodnight, angel,” he whispers against your hair, his voice heavy with contentment.  

“Goodnight,” you reply softly, letting the warmth of his embrace lull you to sleep. 

.⭒☆━━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━━☆⭒.

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[lurkingshan]

Things That Have My Attention In 4 Minutes Episode 6

Original timeline FINALLY let’s gooooooooo

Going back to the start to see Great’s utter lack of remorse for killing that woman, his spoiled brat reaction to his dad handling his mess, and his decision to help his terrible friend get away with a murder was a great reminder that he is in fact a terrible person.

Congrats to… a bunch of us? for piecing together the original timeline correctly based on what we had. In the original sequence of events, Tyme was deep in his revenge plan, got dumped by his girlfriend for neglect, and then intentionally seduced Great so he could record their sex and use it for leverage against Great’s dad. Which didn’t really work. He’s not good at plans, y’all!

By the way, Tyme? Clearly not a virgin. I never liked that read anyway so I’m glad it’s dead. His awkwardness during his first time with Great in the redo timeline is more about his feelings being engaged, it seems.

Great being unphased about the video and just wanting more of that good dick makes perfect sense for his character. He doesn’t care about anything or even have real curiosity about what Tyme was after with that stunt.

And as we finish up the timeline we learn the source of Great’s regret. It’s not any actual self-motivated remorse or understanding of his moral failings, of course. Instead it’s Tyme calling him a coward to his face and rejecting him. His attempt to suddenly claim a moral high ground with his parents after his own string of murders was hilarious and I don’t think he gets the irony.

But someone does! Tonkla coming in clutch as the cause of Great’s cardiac episode was EXCELLENT. And it makes perfect sense because in this timeline, Great is one of Dome’s murderers along with Title. I think safe to assume we’ve been seeing everything else Tonkla was up to in this time in the cold opens, though the exact timing and sequencing of them is up in the air.

The only piece that’s still not tracking for me is Tyme’s side of the romance. The events of this episode explain why Great’s choices in the redo seem to center on getting Tyme to trust him, but they don’t explain Tyme’s reactions to him. This is hardly a love story for the ages. He and Great were emphatically not in love in this original timeline, so I don’t see why Tyme would trust him if he was also reliving this timeline. And if Tyme is not reliving things, that rushed romance arc in the redo timeline doesn’t really work. He has no reason to trust or fall for Great that easily. We also still haven’t seen how Tyme gets shot, so I am inclined to believe there is an additional timeline at play that fills in the remaining gaps and better motivates Tyme’s end of the romance.

Noting here that in the original timeline, the lady Great hit, Dome, and Nan all die, but his mom does not. So by saving that woman, Great inadvertently caused his mother’s death. Something to ponder as we head into the final eps and figure out whether these changes stick.

I’m still hoping that this story is going to take us to a nuanced and complex place and not lead to a pure happy romance ending for Great because honestly he does not deserve it.

It’s nice to finally have a week where we actually got a bunch of questions answered and didn’t generate too many new ones!

[gaybananabread]

✦༻Spoilers༺✦

~This has been in the back of my mind since the movie came out; the time has come. I’m making progress with TickleTober, so enjoy this meal in the meantime! There’s probably more than a hint of shipping in here, but you don’t have to read it like that if you don’t want to. I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Wade Wilson

Ler: Logan Howlett

Summary: Logan is struggling to get used to living with Wade; he has a limit for Wade’s bullshit. The merc loves pushing him to that limit regularly. Logan uses an unconventional method to shut his smartass roommate up.

Warnings: canon-typical language and jokes, spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine and Golden Girls (you’ll see). This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

I’ve finally done it: the ultimate team-up turned homo-erotic-roommates-story. And, ya know, saving my entire timeline; mainly the Logan stuff, though.

Wade had been incredibly happy since they’d saved the existence of his timeline. He was showering regularly, disposed of that horrid “toupee,” and started actually talking to the people in his life about how he felt. It kinda sucked, but hey – character development isn’t always sexy.

Things were going splendidly for the merc with a mouth.

Logan, on the other hand, was slowly going insane.

The Wolverine was grateful for the place to stay, of course; hell, he felt more at home than he had in years. The problem was how…Wade Wade had been acting.

Logan secretly admired how openly true to himself Wade could be; I mean, the guy literally said whatever came to his mind, no matter what. Then again, the guy literally said whatever came to his mind. No matter what.

Even if that thought completely spoiled something for Logan.

“Hey, Peanut! As much as I love that juicy ass, I’m gonna need you to get outta my spot.” Wade flicked his wrist at the eX-Man, beckoning for him to get up. Logan had been there for about twenty minutes, and there was no way he was moving; the episode of Golden Girls he was watching wasn’t finished yet. The man rarely got time to rest like that, savoring every half hour he got with the television like it was holy.

“I’ve been here, bub. Wait your turn.” Logan didn’t even blink, leaning to the side so he could still see the screen. He was gonna finish that episode, damn it.

“Ooo, is that ‘End of the Curse’?” Wade hums, taking a closer look at the screen. Logan wasn’t very far into the episode. “Turns out it’s just menopause, not pregnancy. Man, nothing wakes you up like an existential crisis and skinned minks.”

A low growl rumbled in Logan’s throat, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Ooooo, Wade fucked uuup…

“Did you just spoil the ending to my Golden Girls episode?” The livid tone of his roommate’s voice made Wade’s smile grow nervous.

It’s cool, it’s fine. All I gotta do is nail this recovery. Read and learn, people.

“At least I didn’t tell you that the whole Rose and Miles Webber thing doesn’t work out.”

Fuck. This is why you don’t stare at your roommate’s moobs while trying to save yourself, kids.

“You motherf- WADE !” Logan bolted up from his chair, charging at the blemish-skinned man. Wade made his first smart decision that entire morning:

He ran for his fucking life.

But, of course, luck refused to be on the red-suited man’s side. Wade tripped over one of Mary Puppin’s toys outside his room, Logan’s large hands quickly hoisting him up by the waist. Before he could fantasize anything, he was slammed down on his bed. Which, of course, opened up a whole new realm to dig his own grave in.

“Damn, Peanut! It’s customary to take me to dinner first, but you know I don’t mind gettin’ sloppy~” Okay, that was a little cliché. Wasted opportunity, Wilson.

Logan seemed pissed regardless. “You fucking ruined the one relaxing thing I get to do a week when Al’s out. Do you know how hard it is to enjoy a show when you know what’s gonna happen?!”

As entertaining as seeing Wade squirm beneath him was, Logan wanted revenge. He normally would’ve skewered the smartass, but Al was getting sick of smelling Wade’s blood whenever she left for a few hours. That, and he may or may not have gotten some blood on the couch (don’t tell her).

What else could he do? He wanted Wade to suffer, to regret his actions, to shut up for one in his god-forsaken existence. The only times he could remember that happened was when he was asleep, and when he was…oh. Ohoho, fuck yes.

“You’re gonna learn to shut that gaping, bottomless shithole you call a mouth, Wade, and you’re gonna learn it the hard way.”

“I do everything the hard way, Peanu- yeEEAHAHA! THEHE FUHAHAHACK?!” Before Wade could finish proving Logan’s point yet again, he felt ten muscular fingers knead into his thighs. It was – ironic, he knew – his death spot.

Now, imagine trying to explain why you’re smiling so much when someone’s grabbing at your thighs without stuttering. Spoiler alert: it’s torture.

“You can’t mouth off if you’re too busy laughing, fuckhead. Now shut up and scream for me.” Logan squeezed and squished at the merc's thighs, doing his best to tickle the shit out of him.

“Y-YOUHU CAHAN'T- FUHUHUHUCK! NOHOHO!” Wade tried and failed to speak through his laughter, his head reeling from the intense feeling. For the first time in many moons, the Merc with a Mouth was rendered speechless.

“I can’t fuck? Really? Bold ass statement to make when you’re at my mercy.” Logan’s more playful side was slipping out; how could it not with Wade’s goofy-ass laughter egging him on? Seriously, how could anyone expect him to act like a hard-ass with the man making such purposefully adorable noises?

“NOHOHOT WHAHAHAT IHI MEHEHEANT!” Kicking and squirming, the scarred man was quickly realizing he couldn’t talk his way out of the situation. They were matched in strength, but the tickling quickly un-evened the playing field. Maybe pleading for his life?

“COHOHOME OHOHON! I-IHI’LL QUIHIHIT!”

Logan paused for just a moment, his hands still resting on Wade’s hips. He was…actually gonna stop being a loudmouth? While he didn’t believe a word of that, he still wanted to take things a bit easier on the man; damn feelings…

Slowing down, the Wolverine moved his wiggling fingers to Wade’s stomach. Compared to his thighs, it was a decently tolerable spot; still, it fucking tickled.

“Wohoholvie, thihis is nuhuhuts! Ahand not thehe hohot kihihind!” Okay, maybe he immediately proved himself a liar, but Logan didn’t exactly quit! He was sort of justified, in that sense.

“You never learn, do ya?” There’s an air of amusement and affection in his voice that shocks the both of them. Logan immediately tries to correct it, clearing his throat with a glare. “Stubborn asshole. It’s a bad idea to taunt me when you’re this fucking ticklish.”

“Th-thihihis ihihisn’t fahahahair! Youhuhu’re thehe Tumblr bahahabygirl, nohot mehehe! Youhu shouhuhuld be gehehtting ihit!”

“The fuck is a Tumblr babygirl?” Logan snorted at the silly-sounding words, once again trying to figure out what the hell his roommate was talking about.

“Thehehey knohohow!” Wade pointed towards some unseeable audience, making the hairy man roll his eyes. He seriously needed to get Wade tested for something; it would probably explain so much.

“Do you want me to go back to your thighs?” Logan jerked his hands down threateningly, reveling in the squeal the motion causes. He didn’t even touch the other man that time; it was kinda cute.

“NOOOHOhohooo! Dihickhead!” Without thinking, Wade thrusted his arms out and shoved at Logan’s shoulders. Obviously, the brick wall of a man didn’t move, but his attention was drawn to a specific nuisance: the merc’s arms. Specifically, the fact that he hadn’t explored beneath them yet.

Gathering the mouthy man’s wrists in one hand, Logan forced Wade’s arms up and pinned them to the mattress. Once again, Wade was faced with a tough decision: smart off and completely fuck himself, or grovel and hope for some mercy.

Eh, smart choices are plot killers. This one’s for you, dear reader.

“Y-youhuhu’re really ehembracing your dark side, Peanut~ Next thing ya knowhow, I’m gonna be getting fitted for thohose fuzzy cuffs and a harn- FFFAAHAHAHAAA! OHO- OHOHOKAHAHAY! IHI’M SOHOHORRY! IHIT WAS THEHEHERE!”

Logan showed zero mercy, digging into Wade’s underarm with renewed vigor. He switched back and forth every few seconds, right to left, wrecking the man as thoroughly as possible. The man’s thighs were definitely still his death spot, but his armpits were a close second.

“You don’t act like you’re sorry, ya shithead.” There was a lot less contempt in Logan’s tone than Wade was expecting; he couldn’t exactly comment on it, but the Wolverine seemed almost happy that he had chosen to prolong his torment by being a smartass.

Wade, on the other hand, was going through it; a vibrant blush had taken residence on his cheeks, little tears of mirth showing up for the housewarming party. Worst of all, his exhaustion forced his muscles to relax, allowing snorts to catch in his throat.

“Damn, Wilson. Goin’ hog wild down there, huh?” Wade’s heart would’ve stopped right then if it were possible. Logan “Go Fuck Yourself” Howlett…made a dad joke?!

“Y-YOUHUHU MAHAHDE A JOHOHOHOKE! IHI’M SOHOHO PROUHUHUD!”

“Fuckin’ Christ, just shut up already!” Embarrassed from both the acknowledgement and praise, Logan dug back into Wade’s thigh to silence him; well, keep him from talking by means of hysterical laughter.

About two minutes into getting his thighs attacked by the kitty man, Wade was rethinking all his life choices that led him there. I mean, he obviously wouldn’t do anything different if he actually had the chance to, but there were some regrets. His laugh was growing raspy, a few wheezes slipping in with the snorts as he struggled to catch his breath.

Logan noticed how tired Wade was getting almost instantly. The man hadn’t smarted off in a hot second, so he figured it was time to stop; definitely not because he was taking it easy on Wade or something stupid like that…

The moment the tickles stopped, Wade drew in deep, giggle-ridden breaths as he tried to calm down. He barely noticed his wrists’ release, too tired to lower his arms anyway. It was, admittedly, an utterly adorable sight.

Noticing he was still literally straddling the anti-hero, Logan climbed off and went to grab Wade some water. When he got back to the bedroom, the merc had curled up on his side, a blanket hap-hazardly tugged over him. The eX-man rolled his eyes at the sight, turning the man to face him.

“Here, drink this.”

Despite sticking his tongue out, Wade greedily gulped down the water. His textured cheeks were still a healthy red from the tickling, the ice water both soothing his throat and cooling him off.

“Thanks, Kitty.”

“Just take a nap or somethin’, bub.” Rolling his eyes at the statement, Logan turned and trudged out of the room; neither missed the light blush on his cheeks from the nickname.

Wade settled back into his bed, sighing at the ceiling. Despite everything, he was actually going to try and improve on his spoiling restraint; he kinda deserved what came to him, even if it was totally overkill.

As for the tickling…well, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Logan could’ve cut his vocal chords or sliced his head off in the tub, but he didn’t; the man just did something silly and lighthearted to drill the lesson into his brain. It was curious, in a sense; why would he choose to be lenient with the loudmouth?

It definitely deserved some looking at, to say the least.

Maybe I’ll insult his mutton chops tomorrow. Ya know, for research purposes…

[gotskamstuff]

Oh I know I’m spamming and I’m not sorry but what angers me is thinking about the fact that they did this for what? 10 more episodes? Ruining a beautiful story built in 5 years for 10 more episodes?

Rafe got his “redemption”, Rafe and Sarah got their reconnection, Shoupe came through understanding the Pogues and being after the right criminal, Sarah and John B are starting their family, JJ’s secrets got told, THEY GOT THE CROWN IN THE END…this is what I don’t understand, WHY COULDN’T THEY MAKE THIS THE FINAL SEASON?

If some people in the cast actually weren’t ok with working together anymore or if on of the PROTAGONISTS was done witg the show (allegedly ‘cause we don’t know the full truth) why couldn’t they just admit to themselves “ok you know what? let’s go for the final part of the story”

They could’ve literally spared some Topper scenes or Rafe and Sophia who came out of nowhere and put that screentime into 10-20 minutes more to wrap up an ending, THEY FOUND THE CROWN, end! They savetheir home, Sarah and John B get merried, Pope and JJ get pardoned for working with Shoupe against Groff and thank you all for watching!!

There’s NO WAY they wouldn’t have known that this would’ve been the response…why can’t show end when they need to end instead of getting dragged for longer and getting unrecognizable?

End it with S3 and no more treasure or end it here with one last quest. What even is the sense now? This revenge? This was always about their friendship and love being the real treasure, what’s the poit to go after wealth now?

OBX SEASON 1, I AM SO SORRY BABY! You would’ve hated to see what you became!!

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

Ed’s Initial Intentions regarding Stede

Thank you so much for your attention to the poll. The consensus is it’s complicated - and I sort of agree - although I’m swayed towards Fascination alone.

This is my interpretation…

Stede causes Ed to access hidden or denied parts of himself before they’ve even met. And it causes a change in Ed’s behaviour. Ed’s come across many rich or aristocratic folks to rob whom he would see killed without issue; but not someone who’s also a pirate, doing their own original thing, and who seems ambivalent towards Blackbeard’s existence. It’s dopamine to Ed’s novelty-starved brain. It’s not as if Ed carries out a usual raid on the Revenge intending to kill Stede, only to find himself unexpectedly charmed. Ed’s bewitched even before he meets Stede, which means Ed’s entire approach and thought-processes are altered.

Killing Stede and the crew isn’t necessarily off the table should the need arise, but I don’t think it’s actively on in any capacity. There’s no plan, and there’s no ‘uszh’ for once either. Because none of this is uszh. Ed’s engagement with the Revenge is not his normal MO. History’s most brilliant tactician is free-styling. Possibly free-falling.

At the end of 102, Izzy states, ‘Captain says follow that ship.’ And Fang answers ‘Oh really? Why?’ To which Izzy replies, ‘How should I know? The man’s half-insane.’ This conversation shows this isn’t usual strategy. Even Fang asks why - he thought they’d seen the last of those ‘fancyboys’. And Ivan’s sad he didn’t get the chance to murder them, which seems the usual way of things. Plus they’d already had the chance to take or plunder the ship when it ran aground, so this stalking manoeuvre is out of the ordinary. It feels like wasted time and energy.

By the start of episode three, Blackbeard’s ship is a few hundred yards out from the Revenge, and Izzy’s trying to manipulate Ed into usual strategy again by suggesting opening fire, or boarding and throwing the Revenge crew to the sharks. Instead, Ed wants to wait until they make landfall and invite them aboard his ship. Ed’s doing something very different again because he’s unwittingly engaging with an unfamiliar part of himself. And interestingly ‘Go suck eggs in Hell’ appears not to insult, but to somewhat seduce him further. Before meeting Stede, he’s already out of his depth emotionally, and acting out of character, literally.

Despite what Ed would do normally, I just cannot see him landing on the Revenge with the active intent of plundering the ship and / or killing Stede and the crew. His words and actions suggest he’s already through the looking-glass.

So, to The Plan. We have three interesting moments which lead up to its revelation: the clothes swap, ‘careful of your face’ and ‘show me the ways of an aristocrat’.

For me, the three strands, which have no previous connection (other than Ed and Stede playing together), come together in Ed’s mind somewhere between Ed leaving Stede on the lookout, and Ed speaking with Izzy below: a matter of seconds. It reminds me of Keyser Söze in The Usual Suspects, pulling together disparate ideas into a cohesive story spontaneously. It’s the mind of a quick-thinker. And it’s in-keeping with Ed’s ability of reacting in the moment to the moment when necessary.

I think Ed also feels forced to perform Blackbeard for Izzy because Izzy’s threatening to leave pushes on that white father-figure emotional bruise. At this stage, Ed doesn’t have enough emotional loyalty to Stede to not voice such a plan; whilst his identity is still too caught in Izzy’s web to let him go - ‘you’re needed here’. For me, the plan to kill Stede is brought about in the moment via an act of psychological coercive control.

But Ed’s also kicking the can down the road. It’s a sort of Faustian bargain. Why not promise Izzy both their souls if it means Ed and Stede can hang out a little longer? Yet on another level Ed’s possibly hoping the debt won’t be called in, such is the complexity of the push and pull here. He’s putting it on the tab, the never-never. He’ll out-manoeuvre it if he decides that’s what he wants. Of course there’s doublethink going on because Ed’s in the middle of an identity crisis.

Ed daren’t admit his real reason for wanting to stay on the Revenge. He can’t comprehend himself even how deep this goes. His look as he turns is one of exhaustion and confusion. Stede Bonnet has him rattled. What started as a trickle of unease and ennui before they’d even met is now a whirlpool of unidentifiable feelings around both Stede, and Ed’s own perception of self.

Ed’s free-falling in liminal space.

[moth-scrunk]

I have realized somehing with the news of a possible Farmer Vic. I looked back at “The Box” episode, and rewatched a specific scene.

The lasso scene. I never really considered it, but Vic knows how to use that lasso very, very well. During the scene, we as the audience see this as a callback to the first episode Victim was introduced into. The video that showed him and his clone using the different tools to fight against their creator.

But this is very different with the context of how GOOD Victim is at using the lasso tool. He didn’t just learn to use it, he learned to master it. He snagged Chosen out of the air-

-and then brought him in. Closing the distance, pulling on the rope until-

-he tugged on the end and brought Chosen straight to him.

To anyone, this was a clear message to Vic’s capabilities with working with tools, but what stood out to me was the scene that happens immediately after.

Chosen starts attempting to flee from Vic, dazed and already pinned, and Victim?

.. He cracks the whip, showing his strength behind the hit, the anger. The camera then slowly zooms in on Chosen-

Its this slow, subtle rise in music that we suddenly understand what’s going on. Chosen knows who this is now, Chosen suddenly remembers exactly who this is.

Everyone has been joking about how Farmer Vic’s home is about to get nuked by fire in the next AVA drop, but if that is the context: Everything lines up.

Victim having a reason to hurt Chosen, Chosen not even remembering who Victim is despite destroying his home, Victim’s cold reaction to seeing the Dark Lord getting nuked by Second(Orange) in the scene where it shows his death.

Everything suddenly makes sense. Victim isn’t just attacking Chosen because he can.

Victim isn’t just getting his revenge on Alan.

He is shaming the god who hurt his friends. The animals, the sticks who took Victim in upon his first fall down to the lands he’s now stuck in.

He was casted by his god to die, but was saved by strangers. He was given a home with cattle and lamb, given food and comfort. For once in his life he was safe and free from pain.

Then Chosen and Dark came along, born from the same god that had casted Victim aside. The same god who now unwilling unleashed hell upon the lands.

Victim would have watched his new friends and family burn. He could have watched the horror happen right in front of him. He hates the hollows for what they did, reminding him of his past creator, of his past in general. Filled with grief and sorrows he wished to swallow down, but instead was forced to live with.

So he hatched a plan, one to be seen by us, but in my opinion? He’s already succeeded in half of his plan.

He has humiliated the so-called “God” “, “The Chosen One”, and “The Dark Lord” is dead. Two threats now no longer threats. Now all he needs to do is reach Alan.

.. but then what? What happens when the smoke clears, when Alan is gone? Will he return to his life before? Will he try to leave behind his men and venture on to finally find his peace? Will he feel complete or content with his decisions?

Will he finally feel okay to grieve? To cry for what he has lost? To hold the remains of what was his first real life? Will he feel remorseful to those he hurt along the way? Will he ever say sorry or forgive any who hurt him?

If you ask me, no. I don’t think he ever will say sorry or forgive anyone, and he has a right to. He was born to be nothing more then a Victim to other’s crimes. He was born to be nothing more then a Victim to other’s wrath. He never deserved to be hurt, he never deserved to be tormented by a god that should have loved him.

Victim deserved to be happy. He deserved to have friends, play games, venture to new lands, see the beauty of life and enjoy it. He deserved to be held as he cried, hugged closely when scared, and protected when threatened.

Victim, Vic, deserved to live, and not suffer.

but because of Alan’s actions, because of Dark and Chosen’s actions, he does.

and now it’s no longer Vic who’s becoming the Victim.

[coloredlion]

Okay so I’m just now seeing posts about people claiming that Grace brought Max to the house with the intent to murder him bc she has the bleach and hatchet and tape during Bury the Bully…and..no..just no.

LET ME EXPLAIN HEAR ME OUT

Grace has NEVER started out in any story with the intent to harm anyone, that wouldn’t be very good Christian girl of her. The whole point of her character is that she’s pretty innocent and naive until power falls into her hands, in which she’s easily corrupted and moldable bc of her own strong sense of morality. For example, she very much disagrees with the counselors decision to lock Steph away as punishment, because then she wouldn’t be actively learning anything. Grace doesn’t want people to get hurt, she genuinely wants to help others in what her own definition of helping is. It’s not until Lumber Axe gives her the axe that she realizes that power can be used for her own gain to “help” others. Paralleling Jägerman, she likes the control.

Grace genuinely did just want to scare Jägerman, bc that’s all her mind was capable of thinking as a good “revenge” at the time. When Max falls through the floor she’s just as shocked as everyone else (and we all know how bad she is at lying..I mean come on she sucks at it). When he dies, she GENUINELY sees it as an act of god, not something she went seeking out.

I think what people aren’t realizing is that Bury the Bully could easily be jumping through time. It’s a musical, and they don’t have the time to show them going to the store and buying the materials to dismember a body. It’s there for the shock value and the comedy of how quickly the situation did a 180.

Grace has always taken what’s thrown at her and gone with it, she’s not much of a planning ahead kind of person, let alone plotting an entire murder.

To me, if you believe she HAD planned out Max’s murder, it almost ruins her entire character arc and wouldn’t match up with her arcs during the Nightmare Time episodes. It’s all about her falling into corruption, not her already being “corrupted” secretly from the beginning. It’s something she’s capable of that she has to unlock through the consequences of her environment.

HOLY YAP,, sorry I just love Grace let me know if any of this makes any sense at all

[ladykatibeth]

I think some of the surprise there is for Izzy’s season 2 behavior is that a lot of the the fandom (even some Izzy fans) decided to base Izzy’s characterization entirely off of episode 9 and 10 (where he was honestly also probably having a bit a of a breakdown) when he’s at his most lowest and ignoring anything before that.

So while everyone’s here, (welcome new friends!) I’ll address something’s people have been surprised by, or have said is a new development.

1. “Talking it through”….Izzy is a very open character—Wait, here me out.

He is unintentionally very expressive. If you look at his expression it flits through emotions. He’s a pretty bad liar. His feelings are very on display, and he has a lot of them.

In terms of talking, he literally chases Ed around the ship trying to start a conversation about the plan. He explains exactly why he’s upset in episode 4. He’s also mean about it because he’s angry and he’s mean when he’s angry.

(Well I’d argue he’s anxious and he’s angry when he’s anxious and he’s mean when he’s angry)

This is one phrase we never see him disagree with in the first season, but I would argue he doesn’t fully endorse it.

Specifically “as a crew.” He doesn’t like showing vulnerability….in front of people. Intimate conversations are usually private. He’s the least posturing when he’s doing 1 on 1 conversations, for an infrequently used example, look at him ranting to Spanish Jackie like a friend on the phone before the navy people come in—and then he shifts. He will talk to people about feelings—in private.

2.Speaking of episode 4—Izzy’s care for the crew.

Izzy didn’t see the Revenge Crew as his crew up until his being named captain (neither did Ed, the co-captain conversation doesn’t occur until after Izzy’s been banished). He does express care for the QA crew having been lost in his resignation rant.

They are “the crew of the Revenge.” He’s not perfect though, he does risk Ivan and Fang in the navy deal, but given the fact he’s never done this before I assume most of this previous crew behavior is more in line with the first example than the second. He’s not nice, but he at least cares about about them staying alive.

3. Izzy apologizing/taking accountability.

I think the main thing here is people taking Izzy at his most pissed 100% at his word.

In episode 4 we see Izzy do his resignation rant—and he regrets it by the end. He takes back what he said and apologizes for it. Just because Izzy says something when pissed doesn’t mean those are his day to day feelings.

In episode 6 Izzy says Ed will rue this day—and then makes sure specifically to get him out of the way so he isn’t harmed. He expresses concern over Stede doing something to Ed’s brain, not anger at him.

Izzy isn’t incapable of reflection, his pattern is he gets angry says something, reflects when calmer and then either regrets or changes his mind.

So he’s like weeks of (relatively) calmer time to reflect and realize he played a part, Izzy is incredibly impulsive when mad but our impulses aren’t always our regular logical feelings.

(Also why I don’t like when people completely take his Ep 10 rant as his whole entire world view, he’s pissed and scared and saying hurtful things on purpose, that’s not the summation of him.)

[pagannatural]

2.01

In My Time of Dying

-Dean looks like he’s witnessing a miracle when he first sees at Sam at the hospital.

-Sam can hear and/or sense Dean at least three times while Dean’s unconscious. He’s the only one. He can’t do this with anyone else at any point. Further evidence their connection is metaphysical.

-Dean references Ghost, a movie about a woman and the ghost of her lover. 👀

-Sam is appalled that John can think of anything but Dean when Dean might die, but Sam was ready to blow right past the possibility of saving John in order to get revenge last episode. One thing about Sam is that he really loves Dean more than anyone else and he won’t say it, but it comes out at times like these. I think Sam would feel pathetic if he actually said it.

-Sam is unwilling to entertain the idea of Dean dying. He sees the car and says that when he gets better he’s gonna want to fix it, and Sam knows his brother because he’s absolutely right.

He won’t let Bobby scrap Dean’s car, which is a metaphor for Dean’s life. Sam is ready to accept whatever condition Dean wakes up in. It’s also cute that Sam sees the impala as Dean’s, not John’s. It makes me wonder how many drives Dean took Sam on when they were younger, if Dean often snuck him away for little hang-outs like the fireworks. If they started lying on the hood looking at the stars when they were teenagers.

-That moment Sam says “felt like Dean” is this moment in the hallway outside of Dean’s hospital room

so what Sam is feeling as Dean is this reassuring, caretaking, determined presence promising not to leave him and promising to fight.

-The spirit board scene is one of my favorite scenes ever. What is it about this scene? There’s this sweet innocence to it, and the fact that they’re reaching across a veil to communicate because they just can’t let go of each other. It makes their relationship look really intimate and separate from everyone else. Sam saying “don’t make fun of me,” Dean grumbling that he feels like he’s at a slumber party, Dean sitting across from Sam and watching him. That moment when Dean touches the planchette, Sam is so happy to actually feel him, and Dean is in awe that he can. They need this contact.

Sam goes “it hasn’t been the same without you, Dean” and then the planchette moves and he says “Dean, what?” and then “Dean is it after you?” Sam really likes saying Dean’s name. He says it all the time. People like saying their crush’s names.

-Sam sits on Dean’s bed, his knee against Dean’s leg, and looks at Dean’s face. Ghost-Dean stands next to Sam, looking at Sam’s face. There’s something really intimate about them gazing at each other like this, with Sam not knowing Dean is looking at him too. They wouldn’t be talking so intimately if Dean were lying there looking back at Sam. Kind of like when you’re talking to someone before bed with the lights out and it feels easier to say what you mean.

-“We were just starting to be brothers again.” If this is them just getting started at being brothers again I would kill to see what they were like at their worst closest.

There’s so much in the word “brother” for them. It comes up over and over. I don’t think they ever do this with any other relationship word- neither ever tries to explain their love for John by saying “he’s my dad” with tears in their eyes. It’s like a sacred title. There’s no way they can express what they are to each other, so they use this word that’s only ever applied to each other and that carries their whole history.

The point their relationship has reached now is that Sam trusts Dean completely, Dean needs Sam, and they’re each others’ top priorities. Were they like that right up until Stanford or did something happen before then?

John wrote in his journal about them not getting along as well as they used to when Sam gets into his teens, and speculates that it’s from living in Dean’s shadow. But John was also aware that his boys had their own world that he didn’t have access to, and even very attentive parents often miss quite a bit of what’s going on with their teenage kids.

What we see in teen-era flashbacks is a Sam who resents Dean for being “cool,” a Dean being protective of Sam but also respectful. We see a girl who’s dating Dean only because she thinks maybe he’s not as much of a tool as he seems based on how sweet he is to his little brother. We have Dean and Sam burning down a field when they sneak away to light fireworks, Sam wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist in delight. And we have Sam only wanting to talk to Dean about a case over the phone-not John- and asking for Dean’s advice. They were still close. We know Sam ran away from home once and Dean was out of his mind worried before finding him.

And based on “Providence” Sam and Dean both know Sam feels some type of way about Dean, which would’ve happened pre-Stanford.

And then Sam didn’t tell Dean about Stanford and they didn’t talk for years and Dean thinks Sam must hate him and Dean hates himself but Sam looks at him like a puppy in love. And now “we were just starting to be brothers again.” I wonder what happened for them to both know why Sam isn’t interested in dating when he’s with Dean, and if it had to do with this.

-Sam asks “can you hear me” to an empty room- Ghost Dean isn’t there. It shows how alone Sam feels without Dean.

-Dean objects to dying because he thinks Sam will die without him. This would be an insane thing to think in any other circumstances but I can see why he would think that (see: the babysitting years, the fire at Stanford, etc).

-Sam loves Dean so ferociously. He fights hard for him. He’s protective of Dean to John the whole episode, and it makes me think he’s always been mad at John not just for himself but for Dean too.

-John tells Dean he will have to either save Sam or kill him. Dean’s contract with John previously was always to save and care for Sam. Now saving him has a different and more religious meaning.

-So John thanks Dean for taking care of both him and Sammy, tells him he may have to kill Sam, and then dies. Iconic.

[pepperwithme365]

Y’all getting out of hand

It’s normal to have emotions for things you watch like movies and tv shows and stuff you read. But I’m gonna talk about THK ep 3. today cause some of y’all are kinda taking this show to heart.

Let me start off by saying none of the characters in the show are saints or angels. Everybody has their red flags. Everybody is toxic. With that being said, nobody should be taking these characters to heart. It’s obvious that we’re gonna have emotions for these characters and have opinions of these characters. But some of y’all need to separate this show from reality because it gets to the point that you’re almost dropping a show just because of how the actors portrayed the characters in the show is kind of crazy. The Director said how this was going to be, the trailer, the pilot, everything pointed towards toxicity and I feel like if you’re not emotionally ready for that you shouldn’t be watching the show at all, because if you feel a certain type of way that it gets in your emotion so bad that you’re feeling trauma, I feel like you should drop it.

We are only three episodes in. The point of the show is for you to be like “OMG how could he do that” or “OMG why would he do that” and then for you to tune in on the next episode to see if it’s resolved, explained, revenge, or redemption, that’s the whole point, not for you to get it mixed up with reality because obviously with those kind of characters you drop them out of your life in real life. But you’re doing that with a show. Like I said, if you’re not emotionally ready, then you don’t need to watch the show at all.

And yes, sometime directors can take it too far with what they’re showing like out of the blue something comes up, but nothing has happened in the show so far that would be counted for that. It’s very in your face about how these characters feel about each other and what everyone’s motive is.

You can be mad at the characters. You can be happy for the characters. You can be sad about the characters. That’s what you’re supposed to feel. It’s supposed to pull you in with the emotions and the plot twist and the pulling up the heartstrings, it’s going to want you wanting for more to make you wonder what happens next, not for you to drop the show.

All in all, the show is toxic and if you don’t like toxicity in dramas, this is not the show for you. 

[waitmyturtles]

I LOVE 4 MINUTES.

I love it! GAAAAAHHH, I love it. While Be On Cloud’s KinnPorsche was so BL-referential, I just love this juicy Dr. Sammon-mystery genre that takes us out of trope-land. Queer murder mysteries, my beloved.

I have no theories, per se, about where I think this show is going, but I am going to jot down some observations for my own posterity and memory. After reading some theories on Twitter (including one that Dr. Sammon herself retweeted), I went back and fast-forwarded through all the episodes so far, so here are my notes (and these VERY WELL may have been repeated in the tag, so I apologize if I’m just pooping what we’re already assuming here).

1) This Twitter account noted that Tonkla saw his cat in episode 1, after what-we-assume-to-be present-day boing with Korn. Tonkla sees this AFTER Korn rushed off after getting off the phone. After this week’s episode, we seem to be informed that said cat had died in the past.

We also know that Tonkla has a habit of lighting up after sex and during times of duress.

There might be more than just tobacco in those cigarettes he’s lighting up, I’m not sure, but we also know he hits the shabu, pipe-wise.

Besides Great being in what I assume to be, and what I call, a fever-state, or better phrased, a cardiac episode, I am assuming that Tonkla is transcending his own lines of reality through drug use.

1a) [(A quick aside: I just wanna say that I will be VERY. CURIOUS. as to how Tonkla’s drug use is positioned alongside his predilections for unprotected sex, and if I think there will be public health commentary in this. Drug use is, of course, generally not recommended by medical professionals, and at the same time, it’s a culturally important element of many facets of queer culture that many physicians who work with LGBTQ+ patients are trained to be aware of; for example, using poppers to ease the process of preparing for intercourse. I don’t know if the show means to indicate that Tonkla, vis à vis being on PrEP and meth at the same time, is an automatically unsafe person…but he also might be a murderer… so yeah, I will be curious about this underlying public health messaging.)]

1b) (Speaking of public health, yo, we needed those Durex bottles in episode 4, YOWCH.) (😬) (ANYWAY.)

2) So, speaking of Great and Tonkla living in their own realities, I also want to posit that Tyme has created his own sense of delirium by literally not sleeping.

Homeboy is on his shifts, he’s working out, he’s solving mysteries, he’s kicking literal ass, he’s investigating and courting Great, he’s following Korn. He’s doing a lot! We haven’t caught him sleeping yet, again, literally.

I wonder if this may be Dr. Sammon commenting on the culture of insanely long shifts for doctors, which impacts their mental and physical well-being. We’ve also separately learned that Tyme is driven by revenge, and by a need to support his grandma and save Nan. But how can he do all of that, if he’s physically depriving himself of the ability to rest? I don’t know if this is going to go anywhere, but I do notice the camera work, whenever Tyme is scrubbing out of a shift, re-centering from a tilt, which makes me wonder about what these shots are telling us about his mental state (and we saw comparable camera work when Tonkla thought he saw Dome).

(I’m also not forgetting that the show shows him stabbed at the very start of the series, and I’m constantly wondering about that.)

3) Finally, I want to offer that Korn, Great, and Tyme are not out. At least for Great and Tyme, does that contribute to a delirium mindset (and maybe even Korn, too) by way of the stress of holding in secrets? (Please note that this linked article is from 2004 and does not have fully updated terminology.)

I don’t know if this theory holds for Great, because a popular theory for him at the start of the series was that he may not have realized he was gay until he met Tyme. I don’t know that I saw that in my very-fast rewatch except for his surprised looks during the stitches moment in the hospital. Great’s comfort with Tyme in the car after the claw machines makes me think he knew more about his sexuality, and his physical separation from his family at the dinner table in episode 1 also makes me wonder if he realized his preferences were always going to separate him from his nuclear family. I’m not sure, but I’m chewing on this.

4) So, where I’m gonna go entering into episode 5 is that there isn’t a centered or accurate “present day” for anyone….mayyyybe except for Korn, who is certainly living his own fever dream of being stuck in a reeeeeeally bad job, but maybe isn’t being subjected to mental delirious psychoses (just, you know, the general stress of hating your work thoroughly). But I could be wrong there, too, because we know that Korn is driven by greed, filial piety, and a desire to take over the family business. So maybe that’s creating a delirium of his own, one that takes him away from his boyfriend for weeks at a time.

4a) (By the way, isn’t it interesting that we are not seeing NC scenes with Korn and Fasai? I know, I know, Be On Cloud does queer/BL content, but. I think it’d be interesting if the show ran the gamut of intimacy. Just a thought.)

Anyway! This show is so good, it’s making me babble. I absolutely love it, and it is the comeback that Bible Wichapas deserves.

[mothertoall2]

Drama Queen (NatashaxReader)

Description: Natasha woke up from a nap upset that you were no longer cuddling her and instead in the bathroom. She decides to take revenge by being dramatic for the rest of the day until you make it up to her.

Warnings: None

Natasha's POV

I wake up from my nap expecting to see myself cuddling my amazing partner. I had a long mission and they told me to get some rest after so I fell asleep cuddling them on the couch. They are the only person I feel safe enough to be vulnerable around so I was more than willing to admit I was exhausted and wanted cuddles. I open my eyes though and Y/n was not there. I sit up confused and look around a little but they aren't in the living room. 

I hear a door open upstairs and Y’n starts to walk down the stairs and come into view. “Well good morning there sleepy head!” I just pout at them and cross my arms, they can’t just walk in here and pretend they didn’t do anything wrong. “What’s the pout for baby?” They walk over to me and try to kiss me but I turn my head. They gasp in shock and offense but I stay strong and keep my head turned. They left me so I have every right to be dramatic, and that’s exactly what I’ll do. 

Y/n’s POV

I stand there for a moment, shocked that she just dodged my kiss. “What was that for?!?!” I ask so confused at her behavior. “You left me!” She glares at me as I just chuckle. “My love I had to use the bathroom, I was gonna come right back!” I try to defend myself but her pout just deepens. “You left me all alone!” She falls back onto the couch and puts a hand over her head to add more flair. “What was I supposed to do, let my bladder burst?” She turns her head and glares at me before she turns over again. “You’re such a drama queen I swear.” I say with a small laugh as I sit next to her and start rubbing her back. 

“You don’t love me!” She mumbles with the puppy dog eyes. “Now you listen here woman I love you more than anything in this world!” Her mouth falls and she backs away from me. Oh boy here we go, I can tell that this is what is going to happen for the rest of the night. “So I’m just woman now?!?!” I start trying to defend myself but she just keeps shouting that she’s just a woman to me. I grab her face in my hands and have her look in my eyes.  “Now you listen here, you are the love of my life and my future wife, you are not just a woman but my woman okay?” She nods but continues to mumble something that I couldn't quite hear before she lays on my lap. 

I turn on her favorite show so we can watch a few episodes of it before it reaches lunch time. The whole time she makes sure to keep a grip on my hoodie making sure that I can’t get up to leave her. Once it hits about 1:45 I pause the show which causes her to look up at me with a pout. I always fall for those gorgeous green eyes but we need to get food. I start to get up and she is about to protest, no doubt by claiming I don’t love her, but I lift her into my arms and carry her into the kitchen. The whole ride she just says ‘weeeee’ until I place her onto the counter. “Alright lovey, what doth thou want for lunch?” She giggles this dirty laugh before kissing me. “Are you on the menu?” I laugh with her and shake my head. “Maybe later tonight but for now you need actual food.”

She pouts before I kiss her and then boop her nose with my finger. She tries to bite my finger before I pull it away which causes her to pout again. She leans down and bites my shoulder. “Ouch hey!” She giggles and kisses it before looking up at me. “How about some sandwiches?” I think for a minute before nodding my head. “Am I permitted to go and get the stuff to make them?” She taps her chin and pretends to think about it for a minute before nodding. I grab the peanut butter and bread from the cabinet and the jelly from the fridge. 

I set the stuff down on the counter next to Natasha and get the plates. I make her peanut butter sandwich and added jelly onto mine. I cut them both into two triangles and set them there while I tidy up the dishes. “Hey, it was my day for dishes.” I smile and kiss her lips. “Yes but you just got back from a mission and deserve to relax.” She roles her eyes before thanking me and taking a bite of her sandwich. 

After we ate we went back to cuddling on the cous as per Natasha’s request. Randomly she just asks me “Remember when you called me a bitch?” I can’t help but laugh because she constantly brings this up. “I did not call you a bitch! I said that you could be a bitch!” She sits up and glares at me. “Nope you said that I was a bitch.” I sigh knowing that this is going to be a long conversation again. “Didn’t you hear anything I said after that?!” “You mean after you called me a bitch? Nope.” I groan and fall back continuing to protest as she continues to say the same thing. “Will a kiss make it better?” I taps her finger on her chin pretending to think. “Make it two and we have a deal.” I lean up and kiss her twice and she smiles and lays on me. “All better?” She nods and kisses my chest before we go back to the movie. I love this woman more than anything but god she is a drama queen. 

(A/n- I know it’s short but here are real conversations between me and my boyfriend, I hope you enjoyed it!)