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tracynotabi · 3 years ago

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Riptide Day 2 / Undertow

September 11, 2021

D-Day.

Kevin, Ivan, Joey, and I were getting a ride from Spencer, who was also taking Narq to the venue, while Robert and Parker got a ride from someone else. Well, at least we didn’t have to walk to the venue. I didn’t pack sunscreen.

At 9am, about half an hour we were supposed to leave, Kevin gets a stomachache.

Me: He just needs to poop. Spencer: The classic.

We end up going to the lobby to wait for Spencer in Narq, which was fine considering we actually didn’t want Spencer, our ride, waiting for us.

Spencer: Okay, Narq’s just using the bathroom rq lol Me: Is he also having tummy problems Spencer: Nah just bein stoner and forgetting to do stuff lol Me: The classic

We go get Chick-fil-A and I’m sitting underneath the dashboard again by Kevin’s feet. I think the employees were very bewildered, as the woman on the other side of the window did a double take. I would, too, if I saw a smaller-than-average person just hiding underneath the dashboard sipping on a cup of Coke.

Some time after I get to the venue during doubles, I end up talking to Jimmy (j u m), when Kevin comes rushing over to me, a panicked look on his face.

Forgot to mention, but Kevin actually couldn’t get all of his poop out before coming to the venue and now it is back with a vengeance.

He tells me that he’s unable to go to any restroom because there were three stalls in the men’s restroom: two were occupied and one was clogged with poop.

He had tried flushing the poop one but it only made it worse. It just clogged more and the water level rose. If he had sat down and insisted on finishing, his balls would be touching the water and that’s a no-no.

He tried asking the front desk for other restrooms, but he was informed it was the only one. He was desperate and you could just see it in his eyes that he was about to break.

Me, using the big, wrinkly brain that I had, told him to use the women’s restroom. He froze, not even realizing that that was an option.

Now before anyone complains, hear me out.

I would rather be in a restroom with a male in the stall next to me, than exit the restroom and see someone standing outside the men’s restroom trying to wait for a stall with a shit stain in his pants. Excuse the vulgarity, but it’s true.

If you’re ever at one of my tournaments and you need to go and no male restroom is unoccupied, for the love of god, please fucking use the women’s restroom. I do not need this mess on my hands and you best believe I’m shoving myself in the men’s restroom if I gotta fucking go expel unicorns and rainbows.

I go to the restroom with Kevin and stand awkardly on my phone to keep watch, because he didn’t want any of the staff members actually seeing him and risk himself getting kicked out of the venue.

That would’ve been extremely unfortunate.

Luckily, nobody else needed to go use the restroom while Kevin was in there and he was able to safely compete his duty (lol).

If anyone is upset at my suggestion, I’m sorry, but I wasn’t about to not provide such a simple solution for Kevin’s emergency.

Anyway, the tournament start shortly after that.

First match I pay attention to is Kevin vs. Wombat. In my head, I think it’s pools so I shouldn’t worry too much. I try to watch Kevin’s sets, but it makes me physically ill sometimes because my anxiety is wracked up like crazy and I just want to throw up. Many have witnessed me walking away and trying to distract myself multiple times at multiple different tournaments.

It’s like that gory horror movie that you can’t keep looking away from.

Besides knowing that I get sick, I figured it would be fine since I actually enjoy trying to support my boyfriend and watch him come out of pools winners’ side. Not meaning any disrespect by Wombat, by the way. He’s great. Just realistic. It’s like how I expect Kevin to lose to Bob.

Kevin loses Game 1.

Ooh my tummy’s doing barrel rolls like the way Twisty did with that pullout bed. I look away but I’m just so distracted by the crowd noises.

I totally get it, though. Obviously, it’s sick that Wombat’s holding his own against Kevin, who is seed 3 of the tournament. I’d be excited, too, if my friend was making an upset on someone else. But Kevin’s my boyfriend, so obviously, I want him to win.

Kevin barely wins Game 2 and I’m like ooooh boy. My tummy’s going to town and I think I gag a little by how sick I feel. Gotta focus on getting Joey his next match. *deep breaths*

When heartswaptv airs the whole tournament, definitely check out the set. It was really good (as far as I can hear, I couldn’t bring myself to watch the rest of it).

Kevin comes over to me after he’s out of pools and I scold him for making me worried.

AND YOU NOW WHAT HE SAYS?

Kevin: Babe, it’s fine - I almost lost to Zeddy at Redacted City and I got 2nd. I’ll be fine. Me: T____T *incoherent whining noises*

Does Kevin thinks he’s fucking cute for saying that or something? I was not amused.

Since I didn’t have to volunteer TO the entirety of the tournament, I bounced around mingling with other people.

At one point, I get a message from Suvir in our group chat about how he, Sosa, and Narq were planning on coming to visit NorCal. Of course, since Narq was already here, I decided to just go up to him and ask.

Me: So I heard you’re coming to NorCal? Narq: I am? Me: That’s what Suvir said. *shows phone* Narq: I guess I’m going to NorCal!

Suvir: Narq doesn’t actually know. Sosa just said he’d take him with him and said Narq would agree to go because he’s Narq. Me: Oh that makes sense why he had no idea what I was talking about.

It wasn’t until around top bracket did things start to pick up. Not too many spoilers, because (1) no spoilers before they upload the vod and (2) I have a terrible memory when it comes to the matches.

I remember holding up Kevin’s phone to stream to our Discord because we had some non-PM player friends who wanted to see and I think Kevin wanted Thomas (ThundeRzReiGN) to give him some advice throughout the tournament. Not actually coach, but to critique his play.

As more and more top players fell, Kevin made it a goal to do his best not to fall into the landmine that was Losers’. So many heavy hitters were large threats to him: Techboy, Malachi, Akimi, Cloudburst...

Not to say that Winners’ side didn’t have their fair share of monsters: Peter, Parker, Kumatora, Twisty, Nogh, Lunchables...

Kevin’s first match in Top 32 was against Bongo, who people sleep on quite a lot. For those of you that don’t know him, he’s a Captain Falcon from NY who actually beat Kevin at Flex Zone 3 in 2018. Kevin had beaten him at Encore, but it wasn’t easy.

Not to mention Falcon is a pain the butt for Mario. Unfortunately, the match was not recorded (as far as I know), and it was a very exciting match from what I heard. I avoided watching it because based on how long it took, I knew it had to have been a Game 5. During that time, two matches have been finished on “stream.”

Kevin had said his match against Bongo was the toughest one he had - not to discredit his other opponents, of course - but according to him, it was the scariest and closest. Also the threat of being put into Losers so early would’ve made the climb to Top 8 a lot harder.

His overall goal was actually to make Top 8. Despite being a third seed and rank 5, what I’ve noticed about Kevin is that he does have doubts about himself quite often. He’s never complacent in his opponents and worries all the time about being upset and I don’t think anyone puts more pressure on him more than himself.

As I watched my friends progress through bracket, all I can think is there’s not much I can do. I don’t understand the game very much, despite my heavy involvement in the scene. In fact, more often than not, I believe I understand the game the least compared to everyone else.

A tangent from the actual tournament itself is coming, but I think I should address why I’m even in this community:

While everyone loves the game, I love the community behind it. I find it worth it to sit/stand in one location for hours at a time because it allows my friends to enjoy the game they love comfortably without worrying how the tournament is progressing. They can focus on their own growth and passion.

I think what I see is completely different. Like I said, I don’t really understand this game - I can’t differentiate uairs, bairs, d-smashes, etc. I compute it in my head, but can’t visualize it. I don’t recognize most combos - in fact, more often than not, I’m sitting there just staring at the screen kind of blankly. Sometimes, it does make me wonder if I really am part of this community because I don’t really understand the game.

I can’t say I particularly care too much about the game, but I understand how much of an impact it’s made on me and for that, I’m very thankful for this game because it’s led me to some great people.

Back to the actual event and less sap. lol. Is anybody still even reading?

For something put together in a mere two weeks, Trin and their team did an amazing job. Three recording set ups, graphics, a pot, a venue... props to them for gathering the scraps and making a whole out of it. And to think we almost didn’t go.

Madeline (Swanner) ended up coming and it was honestly so good to see her. We aren’t particularly close, but she’s someone I’ve come to care for and just want happiness for her.

Major spoiler, but I don’t think anybody who cares about PM/P+ doesn’t know Kevin won the tournament.

Everyone expected a pop-off, but Kevin just sat there, crying.

I don’t think there’s ever been anything that Kevin has been more passionate about. He loves this game; he loves this community. Never did it ever occur to him that he would win.

I wish I could say more, but honestly, him winning stunned me speechless. And if you didn’t know, the first thing he said after was that he had to call his mother.

His mom is one of his biggest supporters and I love her to death. She has such a huge heart and has never, ever frowned upon Kevin’s love for the game, whole-heartedly supporting it.

I hugged Maddy, because I can’t even imagine how heart-breaking it must be for her to see what could have been on the mainstage. I imagined how much it must’ve hurt her because she just loves the game and the community, but to see it constantly be torn down by Nintendo and her unable to do anything... Give Maddy a hug and thank her if you see her. She deserves the world.

We ended up walking home with PNW, Bob, Mar, Bongo, Cameron (LoyaL), Ivan, and a few others, honestly too dark to completely see and name. It was a very nice night.

We did, however, pass by the rundown house that definitely looked like if we were to talk in there, we’d be killed by the axe murderer that lived there.

Kevin also lagged behind a lot because his phone notifications were going off like crazy and I was worried he was going to just get lost in the darkness or get hit by a car. Stop looking at your phone when you cross the street, dammit.

We got back to our hotel room and ordered pizza - it was bad. God-fucking-dammit, Ohio, why do you suck so much? Kind of a shitty dinner to end the day on, but nothing else was open at 2am. FeelsBadMan.

#Super Smash Bros.#Project M #Project Plus #Nintendo #Riptide #Undertow #Fuck Nintendo

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eucanyon · 4 years ago

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·ﾟ☀ i am so hype to be here nobody gets it and even MORE hype to be bringing my baby boy canyon ....... i already can feel that everyone is absolute chef’s kiss and i cant WAIT to plot w u all ! my name is 𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲 , utilizing she / her pronouns and knowing nothing about percy jackson but trying my absolute best . i do prefer dis.cord for plotting so if you’d like to swap users that’d be grand , without further delay ( i googled if it was ado or adieu but apparently it’s all wrong throw the whole phrase away ) below the cut you can read a bit about canyon !

⟨ MASON GOODING. CIS MAN. HE / HIM. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐒 is actually a descendent of ZEUS. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY - TWO year old PRE-LAW from CHICAGO, USA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 & 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄 .

— 𝐁𝐈𝐎 .

‘ you gotta work twice as hard to be half as good . you gotta be twice as good to get half the recognition . ’

it’s the earliest phrase he remembers hearing . his grandparents , a duo running the local church services just a block away from their chicago inner city apartment , fill the shoes left by a mother who left her wedlock-born son in the hands of people more capable than she and a father nobody had ever met . his clothes come from the church donation bin and his toys are hand-me-downs from neighborhood kids outgrowing their phases . he pays for football like most of the boys on his team , camped out in front of grocery stores and shopping malls with a bell and a collection bucket with a nervous spiel of “ please help us earn new pads for our football team ” spewing from each child the moment they make eye contact with anyone sympathetic enough to turn their way .

canyon’s held to a higher standard than the neighborhood kids . he comes home before it even starts to turn dark , he has a closet full of perfectly ironed shirts that he tucks neatly into his waistline every sunday morning , he calls anyone that even looks a few years older than him sir or ma’am . he spends afternoons in a rigid schedule : help grandma cook and clean , football practice , homework , and a half hour of television before bed . he gets a choice , if he wants to invite the neighbor’s kids over for that sliver of free time , or keep it to himself . it was a source of embarrassment for him at first , to have a bedtime matching that of his elderly caretakers , but after a certain point , it becomes a source of pride for canyon — he’s lauded by teachers and coaches alike as the best behaved and most respectful ( albeit , also the quietest ) boy of any group he inhabits .

he struggles in school at first , and not simply in the social element . his teachers express concern by his absolute silence , but given that he answers questions and doesn’t cause any issues for them , concerns are brushed off . his handwriting leaves much to be desired and his literacy skills are behind his grade expectations , but he excels when offered oral options for responses and follows logic like a champ . though his grandparents can’t quiet afford a formal tutor , but his teachers offer a bit of informal help in the often time that his grandparents run late to pick him up . they note to his grandmother that canyon is a workhorse , putting in much more work than what is asked for and seeing a steady improvement in his grades due to this . she’ll smile , and canyon will repeat their mantra in his head on the way home .

his mom appears every few months over major holidays , bag of trinkets in tow . canyon quickly learns that ignoring the toys means she’ll talk more to him than about him to his grandparents as if he’s not there , curling up in her lap like a cat vying for her attention . he shoves straight - a report cards and mvp trophies into her hands as long as he can remember , one thanksgiving she comments on his hair getting too long and by christmas he’s gotten it shaved clean . every comment she makes he squeezes for some semblance of recognition , a baby bird screaming out to a blinded parent : ‘ see me , i’m here . see me , if only this once . ’

his father is a forbidden topic in the house and his mother skirts around conversations of him , which bothers canyon , but his community is that of a village - raising mindset . older brothers become mentor figures , uncles become surrogate fathers , grandfathers pass down tokens of wisdom . it seems no household is truly ever without the nurture of a parent figure , and canyon grows up acutely aware of how lucky he has it in his little apartment complex telling the story to himself every night : a mother who loved him enough to give him the life he deserved , a father clearly not worthy of being in the picture . canyon , a boy with the bare minimum , sees it as more than enough .

a pudgy , quiet child following a robotic schedule doesn’t quite inspire the vision of a progeny to the king of the gods . canyon’s only friends are the ones he’s grown up with and the cousins subbing in as the siblings he was never given , his grandmother being perhaps the first person he tells anything to . but he can’t bring himself to open up when his mother begrudgingly confides a secret in him , taking him out for ice cream as an early birthday gift . he has half a mind to let his grandma know she showed up to her visit under the influence , high off whatever would make her deranged enough to tell canyon his father is a shapeshifting greek god who will be reaching out to him to hone his powers in a few days — but he quickly realizes that snitching would mean even less time spent with a mother who already only sees him in minimal increments . as with everything in life , he keeps it to himself , a move that would pay off when he’s approached by perhaps the most terrifyingly imposing man he’s seen in his life at a church service the day before his birthday .

his father is , despite all the obvious flaws , perhaps everything canyon has dreamed of becoming . they talk briefly during the service and make official introductions before he escapes into the day , promising to return and explain more in time . and he does . canyon’s sure to keep to himself who he’s quietly chatting with in the back pews every sunday , but he and his father talk at length in the relative secrecy of hushed voices in a boisterous sermon . the man doesn’t explain much about how he met canyon’s mother , nor what he does in general , but fills in all the gaps left by his mother’s erratic attempt at a conversation . the man buys canyon a new set of cleats for his birthday and notes to him that he can continue to fill in the gaps if he considers spending his summers away . he’ll make it happen , canyon simply has to agree .

and he does . his grandparents are less than thrilled to think that he’ll be away from them for three months and the fact that he’s making a lot of these details up as he goes nearly gets him caught , but his father helps him conceive a ruse so convincing , they’ll be able to leave his grandparents out of the whole demigod conversation .

and it seems almost as soon as he had found something resembling the parents he so longed for , they leave him perhaps more alone than before . his mother is jailed for a sequence of bad decisions and zeus makes himself a figure less and less , eventually becoming clear to canyon that he too will skirt along with the bare minimum , claiming him at 13 and tapering off the effort he exerts as canyon begins to make a name for himself throughout the american demigod scene . his camp friends ask if he’s planning to attend eonia and canyon makes it clear that he refuses , a full ride scholarship to howard university the only thing in his sights for the future . he wants to detach himself from the culture being force down his throat by these demigod hypocrites , he wants to be adamant in his pride over being a black american fighting for change .

a change of heart comes perhaps on a whim . his father makes an offhand comment about “ what a shame ” it is that canyon doesn’t see himself as cut out for demigod school . the boy , now every bit a young man after his growth spurts leave him at an imposing 6’3 and football shapes his body into a vessel of solid muscle , commands the energy of every group he’s thrust into , a pillar of his community and recognized as the one who will bring their neighborhood into greatness . driven , intelligent , and powerful , canyon grows into his role as the champion , and it becomes apparent that his father wants to push the vision of his own contribution forward where it counts , and canyon — the one born into nothing , wants to grow into something .

eonia welcomes him with open arms and before he even opens his mouth , it’s apparent that he carries himself like the son of a king : though he is quick to distance himself from his father who he had once so - idolized . in his head , he sets out to become something notable without the need to precede himself with his father’s name ; canyon is a force of nature all by his own creation , and he refuses to credit his own well - earned accomplishments to a father who was hardly that . he plans to use eonia to close the demigod chapter in his life , hoping he can hone his powers enough to then never use them , hoping to remain solely involved in the mortal world with no mind given to the demigods’ drama . he plans to attend law school directly upon graduating and become the next spearhead of a political movement with the goal of true justice for all disenfranchised people in mind .

— 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 .

canyon ellis has made a name for himself despite his relative silence , a reputation preceding him even without the influence of his godly father’s name behind him . if anything , canyon represents what the ancient greeks perhaps idolized zeus to be — minus the hedonism that brought upon so much of the chaos plaguing his tales . a boy brought into the bare minimum becomes a man making due with the bare minimum , and canyon is known for a rhetoric that can prove a point out of anything . he’s an introvert in extrovert’s shoes , often spotted around teammates or other members of his clubs though he’s oft the last to say a word , choosing instead to observe in silence with those intense stares he’s become so well - known for . intimidating is perhaps an understatement when you pair his stature with his energy , the strength in his reservation and the discipline in his blood , standing tall and unwavering in his beliefs . he speaks with intention and though he’s most known for his serious side , he carries himself with a humble confidence that allows him to speak his truth with ease and stand up for what he believes in most , unafraid to call out those on the other end of his remarks . though he’s stern and admittedly reserved , he’s not shy , and pushes himself to reach beyond his areas of comfort in order to truly live up to the expectations he places on himself : expectations that are perhaps too high for him to realistically achieve in this lifetime .

though intense , canyon has a soft spot for those closest to him and though he won’t be the one stirring up the entertainment , he’s often biting back a smile at the antics of his loved ones , one of his catch phrases being “ i get the joke , i’m just not laughing because it’s not funny , ” followed by a pat on the head . he’s stern but not entirely humorless , kind but no - nonsense , and tends to hold himself to a certain standard of seriousness in most circumstances . he’ll let loose on the occasional night out , but there’s a sense of tension to him that seems clearly prepared to leap back into his leader shoes and fix whatever disaster may present itself . a projection of strength , poise , and dignity , canyon’s aptitude for leadership is equally his greatest strength and his biggest weakness , imbuing him with a moral compass and a sense of empathy that sometimes makes the world too black and white for him , refusing to see any circumstances that may complicate or excuse something .

his views on loyalty are severe and have left him with a handful of people he’s all but erased from his life , burning bridges without second thought though many in his circle advise him to reconsider . there’s right , and there’s wrong in his world , with nothing in between despite the fact that sometimes , there isn’t as clear cut of an answer as he claims there to be .

pair this with the trauma of his abandonments during the upbringing he faced and it comes together to result in a boy walking in a man’s shoes , fingernails digging into palms with the fever of all the words he bites back , fueled by a crusade for justice to give him some sense of worth — perhaps the only thing holding him together at this point .

— 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂 .

AESTHETIC : uphill runs fueled by answer by tyler the creator blaring through your headphones , the perfectionism of a virgo and tenacity of a taurus , falling asleep to the swan by camille saint saens , vision obscured by hot tears , the flex of your jaw as you bite back a comment , the unsettling rumble in the air just before the strike of thunder , kendrick lamar blasting from your classic mustang , picking up the pieces of a shattered porcelain bust , the primal sense of connection in a team huddle , thunderous pounding of your pulse in your ears , being voted “ most likely to become president , ” a wide stance with arms crossed over your chest , power drawn from unity , never division .

my inspos for him were chiron / black from moonlight , erik killmonger from black panther , and batman lmao . i guess maybe some steve rogers ?

he’s the captain of the rugby team !

grew up playing football but the moment he casually played a rugby match at camp and interlocked into a scrum was the moment he was forever converted and has loved the sport ever since . he plays as a lock .

as a pre - law student , he’s in mock trial , as well as in the social justice collective . he is vice president of the black student collective and is an active and passionate member who is outspoken about black identity on campus

#EUINTRO #* ◞ 𝑡𝑒��𝑙 𝐦𝐞 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝑔𝑜𝑛’ 𝐝𝐨 𝖙𝖔 𝑚𝑒 . ❪ 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 : INTRO .#❪ yes this is a mess no i do not have the brain cells to clean it up #canyon is how i live my vicarious 'i have my shit together' fantasy

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foxtophat · 4 years ago

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hey i said i was gonna get this up today!!!!

so with this chapter's conclusion i can safely say that i've officially written everything that i set out to write with mercy! this chapter was literally a skeleton that shaped eighty percent of the entire story, so i'm glad i could finally flesh it out and put it out there!!

there's still one more chapter to go, which will be more or less an epilogue for the main story. after that, i think i'll try to get a couple of other fandom fics going (ones that are ACTUALLY nearly done, not half-ass done like mercy was when i decided to start posting lmao) and then i can set up a schedule to write some more for this universe

anyway, for now i just want you to read and enjoy. this chapter is all about john's ptsd, and it made me sad, so i hope it makes you sad too heheh

as usual, any likes, comments, reblogs, kudos, casual mentions in meatspace or idle daydreaming about different ways this chapter could go are ALL super welcome and adored. i love you guys, you've been so kind to me <3 i hope you enjoy this chapter!!!

the usual: below the cut is the full chapter text if you don't wanna go to ao3, but you should, ao3 is way easier to read on

Things around the Rye homestead have been pretty good as of late. Eight, nine months ago, Nick never would have expected to see the living room floor again, much less finish even half of the tedious repair work that he's managed to check off his list. The planters are already sprouting with what's going to be an early summer harvest, Carmina's hen-house is ready to go, and they've already bartered off some scrap for moonshine and extra ammunition for Carmina's blooming sharpshooter hobby. The house itself only creaks and groans in heavy winds, and a few additional supports outside have secured the second floor from crashing down in the middle of the night. For an old, blown-out house that's been through nuclear winter, the place is coming back together pretty well. Hell, another couple of years and they might be able to reconnect the septic system, and then they'd really be cooking.

Other people have noticed their good luck, too. Mostly friends, like Grace and Jerome, but the word's spread a bit now about the Rye's generosity, and they've gotten a few good trades out of it, although a lot of them are I-O-U's that maybe won't come to fruition. That's fine by Nick — they don't need the old fencing or the scrap plywood, and there are still two mostly-buried garages out back that could be broken down for some really prime salvage. If people want to give him free use of their future smokehouses or promise to help him find more gas for his truck, then that's more than enough payment. Anyway, that's what Nick tells people when they don't have anything to offer — it isn't like he's going to turn somebody away when they need help.

Of course, not all of their generosity is appreciated equally. John being around doesn't sit well with many of the people who come by, although it's never enough to deter them from doing business with Kim or Nick. There aren't many confrontations, even when John helps Nick load wood into a truck or remains lingering in plain view, although somebody usually has something to say about it. Unless they get really vulgar or violent, Nick usually lets them blow off steam in his and John's direction, and he doesn't take it personally when somebody takes a cheap shot at him for being such a soft-hearted bastard.

Their vitriol usually ends after a few minutes. Most of the time, John can handle it by himself, apologizing genuinely to each person who tries to curse him out. Nick hasn't heard the same regret twice, and even if John doesn't recognize every hateful face, he seems to remember his part in their trauma. It might not be what they want to hear, but John's serious, specific remorse usually puts the fire out of their fight. So far, there's only been two instances where Nick had to call Jerome out to mediate, and neither time resulted in anyone getting shot or knocked out. Sure, John might come out of an altercation with a couple of bruises, but that's usually it.

It stands to reason that something was bound to go wrong at some point. Nick's prepared for all sorts of catastrophes; he's got contingency plans for flooding, wild animals, and even ornery neighbors upset that he let John off so easy. There are a million little things that could go wrong out here, and Nick can only do so much to prepare for every eventuality, but he thinks he's got a pretty good handle on it.

That is, until the radio breaks. It's one thing that Nick hadn't even considered a possibility — they'd left the thing in its box until the apocalypse, and until they left the bunker, it'd barely seen any use at all. And yet, one day Nick tries to confirm a trade and the radio fails to catch anything more than static.

Cheap goddamn made-in-China crap, that's what it is, and that's what Nick tells everyone within earshot as he fiddles uselessly with the knobs. When he turns the radio around to get a look at the connectors, he ignores the stamped metal that reads "MADE IN GERMANY" in favor of hunting down the problem — but that's going to involve unscrewing the back and, well, Nick isn't exactly an electrician. He's not sure the best option here is to dig into the guts of his only radio willy-nilly like. He could go get the user's manual, but it's in a pile of boxes down in the bunker, and Nick really doesn't want to go rooting through trash for it.

Heaving a frustrated sigh that takes all the fight out of him, Nick grabs the flashlight and goes out back to let Kim know what's up. She and John are working in the garden, which used to be something John would avoid at all costs. Now, he doesn't even seem phased to be working in the dirt, barely acknowledging Nick's irritated venting about the broken radio as he pulls weeds. It's only when Nick mentions going into the bunker that he seems to take notice; he tries to be subtle about it, but Nick doesn't miss his head swiveling to stare briefly.

Of course, Nick is so used to John's cagey weirdness about bunkers that he barely notices, too busy

Kim looks sympathetic, but she doesn't sound it as she reminds him, "Nick, complaining to his ever-patient wife. "I'm just gonna grab the manual, maybe see if there were any spare parts in the box we missed. It's not like the thing gets used enough to break!" the radio is ten years old. Even expensive equipment can't last forever."

"If I don't get to sit down and give up whenever I want, then neither does the radio. It's not like we got any choice , here. If we don't have a working radio, we're going to have a bitch of a time reconnecting with everybody. And we've actually started to build something, you know?"

"At least you'll have a diagram to work with, I guess." Kim sighs. "John, have you... do you know where our bunker is?"

John smiles wryly. "I do," he replies.

"Oh, right," Nick sighs. "You probably know where everything is on the property, huh."

"Knew," John points out. "But yes, that was my job. I was as thorough as I could be." He chews his lip, standing after a thoughtful second. "I know where a lot of bunkers are. If you can't repair the radio... We could look for another one."

"Okay, of course you do." Nick waves for John to follow him, which he does, keeping pace as they head away from the wash, towards the opposite side of the hangar from their normal route. "What makes you think I wanna take a radio from somebody else ?"

"Not many of the structures put together out here were by any means safe ." John probably shouldn't sound so blase about it, but the guy's got a point. Doubly so when he continues, "I was suggesting we take one from someone who won't be needing it anymore."

Nick clicks his tongue against his teeth. "Well, it's something to think about," he agrees reluctantly. It sounds a lot like grave-robbing to him, but John's right. It's the smartest option, and somebody's going to have to do it eventually. It might be better for everyone if it's them, and not some opportunistic drifter who won't put the resources back into the community.

That's a problem for another day. Right now, Nick leads John around thick tumbleweeds that have gotten caught in the long grass, bringing them up just short of the bunker door. Covered with about two years' worth of dirt but not yet overgrown, the white hatch is only a marginal pain in the ass to pry out of the ground. John waits for Nick to ask for help, only to realize that isn't happening anytime soon, and wordlessly assists in coaxing the rusted hinges to work.

The bunker is dark and smells like a root cellar. Nick sure hopes nothing important molded. They'll have to get down here and clean up soon, before the mildew takes hold and ruins everything.

"Okay," he says, "You just wait here and make sure that thing doesn't close on me."

Nick half-expects some kind of joke about locking him inside, but John only nods obediently, standing a few feet from the opening with his arms folded across his chest. Nick rolls his eyes but does his best to ignore John's unease as he descends into the bunker.

He decides against testing the power — even if the generator down here still has some juice in it, they haven't operated anything in a while and Nick does not want to be engulfed in flames right now. Instead, he clicks on the flashlight and wanders through the narrow space. He doesn't linger on the drawings Carmina left on the wall or the unmade cots, passing by a pile of laundry that'll never get done and heading to the small utility closet in the back.

He finds the box intact, one corner suffering water damage from what looks like a cup of water that nobody ever picked up. Deciding against rooting around for anything else that might be useful, he takes the whole box back out to the ladder, chucking it up out of the hole once he's tackled the lower rungs.

John is trying hard not to show his nerves as Nick pops back up, shoving his hands into his pockets before changing his mind and folding them again over his chest. Bunkers are a tender spot for him, and Nick knows it, so for now he decides not to make a big deal about it. John's too fragile for Nick to be teasing him, even if he refuses to admit it himself.

Pulling the box apart, Nick scavenges the manual and a couple of accessories that he hadn't needed a decade ago and probably doesn't need now. The cardboard is mostly good, so Nick breaks down the box, chucking the useless packaging back into the bunker before foisting the supplies onto John.

Nick gets up and shoves the bunker door until it falls shut on its own weight. "Well, now I gotta spend the rest of my day reading that crap," he says, gesturing to the chunky owner's manual.

"Give it to Carmina," John suggests, "She's desperate for new reading material."

"And give her the chance to become more technologically savvy than me? I'll pass."

Nick spends the next few hours troubleshooting his way through the manual, vengefully ignoring the support hotline numbers plastered on every other page. Even if the service center hadn't been annihilated in a nuclear apocalypse, fat chance Nick would ever lower himself to call.

By dinnertime, Nick is frustrated but satisfied that he knows where the trouble area is. One of two pieces has given out, both designed to be replaced occasionally. On one hand, that's a good thing — it's supposed to be done by novices, which means the manual is painfully clear on the method. On the other hand, there are only going to be so many matching radios out there, and who knows how many will have the same issue?

"It'll be okay," Kim reassures him that night. "Plenty of people get by without a radio, you know."

"That doesn't mean I wanna be one of them," Nick grouses, turning to pin his hopes selfishly on John. "You said there were bunkers around, right? And maybe one of them has a radio we can use?"

"I didn't promise anything," John clarifies, "But that would be my suspicion."

"Maybe it'd be worth it to look. Who knows, we could get lucky."

Kim doesn't look sure about Nick's optimism, but he ignores her skepticism. If nothing else, it'll be good to use John's old cult knowledge to benefit them for once, and that alone puts Nick firmly in the "in favor" group. Even if it turns out to be a waste of time — well, at least they'll have tried everything. For now, Nick can let Kim think up a contingency plan for a no-radio life — Nick is going to rest all of his hopes firmly on the repair plan and hope that it works out.

Nick wakes up last the next morning, sleeping in an extra half-hour or so before finally peeling his eyelids apart to face the sun. Even as he gets dressed, he feels groggy and slow, dragged down by a long night of forgotten stress dreams. His brain probably spent all night running through every possible outcome of bunker-hunting with John — not that it does any good now, when Nick can't remember any of it.

He isn't the only one who looks like they could use more sleep. Carmina is yawning over her breakfast, eating like a sloth as she processes being awake. The bags under Kim's eyes are darker than normal, too, but she's bright-eyed and dressed for the day.

John is the only one who looks like he's coping with the morning at all, but that's probably because he's been up for a while now. Ever since he's been given free rein, John's sleep schedule has put him as the last one to sleep and the first one to wake. Nick doesn't mind too much, though, since he usually brews up some coffee right before anyone else comes down. He's been arguing with Kim for the last few mornings about going by himself to pull water from the river for the house, but Kim is holding tight to her buddy-system, and John isn't going to convince her to give it up that easily.

From the way Kim looks at Nick as he descends the stairs, they might be arguing about it already today. "What?" Nick asks, "What'd I do?"

"It's not you," Kim says. She gestures across the table at John, who looks like he's been waiting for Nick to come to his defense. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him."

"The radio is the same make as mine," John tells Nick, clearly expecting Nick to understand what he's talking about. Fat chance there, though, because Nick has no idea what he means. "It might not be the same model, but it's worth a try."

"Uh... which radio are you talking about, exactly?"

John tries hard to not look like he's suffering at the hands of fools. He fails, but at least he directs his exasperated look towards the ceiling at the last moment. "In my bunker," he explains slowly. "I had a radio of the same make."

"You said yourself it broke," Kim points out, clearly repeating an argument from before Nick's arrival.

"All the more reason to not worry about scrapping it," John replies. "The bunker is closer than any other structure, and it's guaranteed to be there. That is as much of a blessing as you'll get these days."

Nick wonders at first why Kim is so dead-set against going back to John's bunker. Sure, the guy refuses to talk about it, and sure, bunkers in general seem to fill him with unshakable anxiety, but it's still just a bunker. A bunker with a radio that could save their asses, where they won't be stealing from someone who might need it just as much. And hell, John doesn't even have to go inside!

Kim sighs and says gently, "I just don't know if it's... the greatest idea." She looks sideways at Nick, who knows from experience that she's holding back her opinion for John's benefit. She probably doesn't want to be the one telling him he's too fragile to handle it.

"I'm not asking for your permission," John says. "If neither of you want to come with me, I'll go by myself."

"Oh, come on," Kim huffs, "Not this again —"

"If I want to go somewhere, I have the right to do so," John exclaims. "We've established that I'm not a prisoner, and I certainly am not a child."

Carmina huffs loudly, but John pointedly ignores her.

"Okay, okay," Nick says, holding out his hands in a poor attempt to placate all parties. "Look, if you're really dead-set on this, and you really think that the radio's gonna help, well..." He sighs. "Then maybe it's worth going to check out."

Kim looks mildly offended that he's taking John's side, but Nick knows how to reassure her, at least a little. "But there are some ground rules," he says. "You can come with me, but I call the shots. No acting like you know better than me, or deciding to run off and forcing me to follow you. You get it?"

"Of course," John says.

"I mean it. If I decide it's not worth it when we get there, you're gonna have to respect that. I mean, there could be snakes living in there now. I don't even remember if I closed the hatch, it could be flooded from the rain earlier this year."

John nods, so quickly that Nick wonders if he's really listening. "Yes," he says. "That's fair."

"I can't believe this," Kim sighs, relenting at last as she rubs her forehead. "Okay. But you both need to be careful." She looks at John. "Especially you."

"I don't..." John cuts himself off, reluctantly changing tactics. "Okay. Fine." He stands up, leaving his chair wide open for Nick to take as he says, "I need to get ready," and excuses himself. What he needs to get ready for when he's already dressed, Nick has no idea, but that's not exactly Nick's problem. If John needs to go talk himself through the decision he forced on Nick, then it's a good thing he's not involving Nick in any of it!

Nick's real problem right now is the way Kim is staring at him. "What?" he asks, sinking into the abandoned seat. She doesn't respond, and Carmina glances skeptically at her dad from across the table. "What was I supposed to do?" he asks, exasperated. "It's not like he was gonna let it go."

"You could have put your foot down," Kim says. She sounds downright disappointed, and that stings more than Nick wants to admit. "You could have taken my side," she adds, aiming her heavy frown at the coffee cup in front of her.

"We've been waiting for him to want to talk about it," Nick points out. "And anyway, we need a radio. If he can help, we should encourage it. Right?"

Kim isn't keen on getting into a fight right in front of Carmina, so she only nods her head in response. It's enough, though, because Nick does wind up feeling guilty for siding with John. Right or not, he probably should have negotiated that better.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he says. "You're right. I've got tunnel-vision with this radio problem, is all."

"I know," Kim sighs. "I just... worry."

"Well, don't. I'll be fine."

Kim rolls her eyes. "It isn't you I'm worried about, Nick." She looks towards the stairs, listening to John pacing up in his room, then reluctantly turns back to her husband. "Just... promise me that you'll keep an eye on him, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Nick replies. Kim doesn't look too reassured, so Nick reaches over and wraps her hand in his. "Really, I will." He glances at Carmina and tells her, "You'll keep an eye on mom so she doesn't worry all day, right?"

"Sure," Carmina says. Nick knows from the Kim-like tone in her voice that she thinks he's being an ass, but at least she's young enough to not call him out directly yet. All he has to do now is make sure that neither of his girls can rub his rash decision-making in his face when he gets back.

John is quiet as he and Nick make their way through the woods. The walk itself isn't too bad, less than a mile out from the edge of what Nick used to consider his property, but John is having a lot of trouble hiding how jittery it is, and it makes for a tense hike. He keeps speeding up and falling behind, as though he can't decide whether or not he wants to lead the way.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Nick asks eventually, unable to help himself. John answers with such a dirty look that Nick immediately goes on the defensive. "Hey, don't give me that. I just don't want you to, you know... start having nightmares about it or Joseph or whatever all over again. You're the one who's always been weird about it."

John scoffs but doesn't respond. From the way he glares at the ground, Nick figures he probably hasn't stopped having nightmares yet. That's... probably a good reason to keep him from climbing all the way down into the hole. Of course, Nick isn't sure that he'll really be able to stop John, never mind what John promised back at the house.

"What were you doing out here?" John asks after the silence grows out again. "When you found me."

"Oh. Well, I was sorta looking for places to put more traps, after I made them. And, you know, if there was anything left to salvage out here." Neither of those ideas had gone anywhere, although maybe now would be a good time to revisit them. "There's not much out here, though. There's that herd of deer to the north, and the river... we really haven't needed to expand so much."

John hums agreeably in response, although he doesn't have much to add to the conversation. Nick doesn't know how to keep it afloat by himself, so he doesn't, letting them sink back into silence until they finally reach their destination. Nick recognizes the spot by the shock of parachute fabric hanging in the trees, just a flash of artificial color behind the browns and greens of the trees.

Now that he has time to look around, Nick can sort of see where the land had been cleared for installation. Of course, the only remnant of the open circle now is the thinner layer of weeds over what looks like a thirty-foot rectangle. He doesn't remember anybody building out here, and he can't even fathom when they could have done it, but somebody came through here right before the apocalypse and made themselves a hidey-hole.

Nick doesn't wait to approach the closed bunker door, but John lingers at the imagined edge of the space as though facing a barbed-wire fence. He seems pensive and lost in thought, and Nick lets him adjust while he sweeps away dirt and scraggly tumbleweeds that have just started to cover the hatch. Just a bunker or not, it's got to be a lot to deal with, although Nick can't imagine why. No matter how terrible being alone had been, it couldn't have gotten worse than intense boredom. Hell, Nick's met two different people who had clearly let the cabin fever get to them, and neither of them could shut up about their damn bunkers.

Reaching down, Nick braces his legs on either side of the bunker door and pulls at the hatch. John is clearly holding his breath, even this far away, tension coiled in his shoulders and forcing his spine ramrod-straight. He doesn't offer to help, stuck in place like he is.

"Maybe you should stay up here," Nick offers.

Of course, John only scowls at the thought. "You won't know where to look. It would be faster if I went in alone."

"Yeah, Kim would love it if I let you do that. Don't be an asshole."

Nick heaves the door upwards. The rusted hinges scream in protest, as if they hadn't moved in years, but the door swings open after a few hard tugs on the handle.

John hesitates a second longer, then approaches the hatch. Nick goes over to the edge, crouching down so that he doesn't fall, and shines the flashlight down the ladder. The air is stale, smelling like rot and mold, and Nick can see a puddle drying at the base of the ladder. Well, that makes sense — there's no way the seal is still airtight. So much for closing the door from the elements.

"You ready?" Nick asks. John nods mutely in response, standing some feet away from the hole. "Really, John. You don't have anything to prove. Kim would probably be happy if you stayed up top."

John grimaces. "I'll go first," he says, his voice clipped.

This is a bad idea, and Nick knows it. A month or two ago, he'd probably have figured John was about to pull a fast one on him, but now he's more concerned that John is trying to pull something on himself. Confronting your fears is one thing, but as John climbs down the ladder and Nick gets a good look at his pale face and tight jaw, he worries that this is too much, too fast. Not that John seems to understand the concept of pacing himself — he seems more like the kind of guy to throw himself mindlessly at a problem until it shatters under the sheer force of his determination.

Nick hands John the flashlight before he gets out of reach, following him down the rungs as quickly as he can. They knock into each other as he reaches the bottom rung, and Nick turns to find John aiming the flashlight uselessly at their feet. Staring down the murky darkness that turns the bunker into a cave of unknown depths, John looks as though he might hear floodwaters in the distance.

Maybe he's just taken aback by how bad things look, even with only a little light to see by. The looming piles of garbage and years of refuse have turned the twenty-by-ten foot box into a narrow, craggy cavern. Nick can see a door at the far end of the gloom, cracked in the middle and left ajar in its frame, surrounded by a pile of overturned furniture. He spends a second or two trying to calculate the dark tally marks he can see covering the wall next to him, but there are too many and he can't keep track.

John takes a shuddering deep breath that turns Nick's attention back to him. "Hey," he calls, "You okay?"

"Yes," John replies, spitting the word out. He shakes his head heavily from side to side, just in case Nick missed the baldfaced lie for what it is, and takes a hesitating step away from the ladder. The breath he takes doesn't seem to give him enough air, and no amount of gasping can draw more in. He has a white-knuckled grip on the ladder, and it seems for a second to be the only thing holding him up as he visibly reels.

Nick hasn't been on the opposite end of a panic attack in a long time, but he's been through enough on his own to see that John is veering wildly in that direction. He's searching the walls, rapid-fire counting the lines, confusion breaking out on his sweaty, gray face.

"Hey," Nick says quickly, lifting his hands placatingly as he comes closer, "Hey, it's gonna be okay."

John shakes his head again, rapidly this time, abandoning any pretense of control. "No," he gasps, "No, I don't think it is!"

Goddamn it. Nick should have known better, he never should have agreed to this, he never should have let John come down here. He just — he hadn't thought it would be like this. He didn't know it could be this bad.

Nick puts off berating himself, at least until John's panic passes. For now, he focuses on damage control, guiding John's free hand to grab hold of the ladder, which is at least haloed in enough light to keep the worst of it from immediate view.

"It is gonna be okay," he insists. "Here, let's — let's get back up top. Get you some fresh air, okay?"

For a moment, it looks like John doesn't understand the concept, but his fingers eventually curl together on one rung. "I didn't know," he says unhelpfully, but at least he doesn't resist as Nick ushers him slowly up the ladder. He moves so slowly, paralyzed by each step, but Nick's only concern is making sure he doesn't fall on his way out.

The sun is right overhead as John slides out of the bunker, crawling on his hands and knees and collapsing several feet away from the opening. Nick hesitates on the last rung, knowing full well that they can't just leave now that they're here, but he has to deal with John first. The radio has waited this long — it can wait a little while longer.

John gasps for air a few more times, barely catching his breath. He doesn't look at Nick, but he offers him a miserable apology, mumbling, "Sorry," halfway into the dirt.

Nick crouches beside John, awkwardly shifting his weight on his feet. He's not sure what he's supposed to do here — he isn't used to being on this side of things, and Kim is so much better at calming people down than he is. The worst of the attack has passed, but Nick's not good at damage control.

"Hey," he says at last, "It's okay. Take your time."

There's not a patient bone in John's body, so it's a small miracle when he listens obediently, struggling until his breath evens out enough to ease the panic.

"I thought I could handle it," he sighs at last, his voice heavy with resignation. "I handled it for seven years, I thought..."

Nick doesn't think what he saw down there counts as handling it by any means, but he's not about to say as much. Truthfully, he doesn't know what to say.

"We should go," Nick says. "This isn't worth it."

John looks offended at the mere suggestion. "We came all the way here," he rasps. "Give me a minute. I'll — I'll go back —"

"Like hell you will," Nick snaps. He doesn't mean to, but damn, is John really such a masochist? "Look, just — let me go find it. You keep watch up here."

There's barely any hesitation before John nods miserably in agreement. He tries not to let it get to him, but he's already shaken by the underground and he's in a suspiciously fragile state himself. He hopes to God that he can find the radio on his own, and that it works enough to make this trip worth the trauma. If this doesn't work out, Nick is going to feel even worse about it than he already does.

It's not the best idea to leave John alone, but Nick forces himself to go through with it anyway. Armed only with his flashlight and empty backpack, Nick descends as quickly as he can, taking one last breath of fresh air before disappearing into the bunker.

God, there is blood everywhere. Nick's not sure how many of the streaks on the walls are meant to be counted with the rest of the tallies, scratched into the walls with what Nick hopes to God was anything other than John's fingernails. Everywhere Nick shines the light, he finds another smear of crumbling red blood, each one painting a different image of John's scars and scabbed over tattoos. The garbage is honestly overwhelming, with a decade of waste piled up openly on top of sealed trash bags, cans spilling across the floor, dirty clothes and ripped fabrics clumped together in haphazard nests that have molded and mildewed into an inseparable mess...

There's more room to walk than Nick originally thought, although there aren't many places entirely free of trash. Still, he hesitates to step outside of the ring of natural light above. After all, nothing about this bunker is safe. Looking past the garbage and the wreckage that John has left behind, Nick sees rust starting to form along the seams, and his first step feels uneven, as if they hadn't leveled the ground properly before installing and just couldn't be assed to fix it.

Jesus Christ. It's a miracle that John didn't die down here. It's surprising enough that it circulated enough air for him to survive. How the hell did he make it as long as he did in this death trap?

It's not a question Nick can answer, and quite frankly he doesn't think it's safe to spend much time down here ruminating. As a matter of fact, the less time he spends down here, the better. It's hard not to take note of the damage, though, especially as he searches for wherever John might've kept his radio. Lord, with the way everything seems to have been torn apart, who knows if it's even going to be in one piece? Or even somewhere accessible? Nick really doesn't want to go poking through the destroyed couch or the bags of trash heaped in confusing piles across the bunker.

He heads all the way to the back of the space, circling around an overturned table and seeing at last a small desk wedged into the corner, facing the ladder. The radio microphone hangs from its cord over the edge, and Nick has to repress a delighted shout when he sees that it's still in one piece. There's a crack along the plastic case, but other than that, Nick can see that it's a model very similar to the one back home — older by a couple of years, maybe, but hopefully not so old that it's no longer compatible.

He struggles to be careful as he loads the radio into his bag, but all he wants to do is get the hell out of here. It's only once he's pulled the heavy backpack back onto his shoulders that Nick takes stock of the position that he's in. Standing here, facing the ladder, Nick can see a definite barrier that John must've formed at some point — the table, the desk, even the broken down automatic washer, all of it has been set up as though John were planning to hunker down against an enemy attack.

On the ground, behind the table, Nick sees a book with a white leather cover. The gilded Eden's Gate emblem has been mostly rubbed clean off, but Nick has seen that book too many times not to recognize it for what it is. It's bloated with water damage and stuffed with ripped addenda that have filled the binding to burst, lying on the cement like an undetonated grenade.

Nick grabs it before he can think better about it. He immediately regrets it, mostly because the bottom cover has become slimy and the whole thing feels like it's going to come apart in his hands. Not knowing what else to do, he drops it onto the empty desk, wrinkling his nose at the squelching slap of wet paper on wood. He goes so far as to pinch the first few pages under his finger, ready to flip it open to some random verse — but even touching the cover leaves Nick feeling uneasy and watched. Honestly, just looking at it fills Nick with a sense of distant dread, the same hazy fear that came along with the first time he got a face-full of Bliss.

Fuck that, he decides. Whatever John's left in the book, it's not for Nick to look at. He already got what they came for, and it's been about five minutes; Nick can't leave John waiting much longer, and frankly he doesn't want to. With one last grimace in the book's direction, Nick beelines for the ladder. He stops trying to tabulate how many days John kept track of, stops wondering when or if he ever lost count, and focuses entirely on getting the hell out of the goddamn deathtrap.

It's probably just his imagination, but Nick can smell floral sweetness in the air as he finally escapes the bunker. He takes a deep breath once he's out, tipping his face back to gratefully meet the blue Montana sky.

John waits until Nick looks at him to ask uneasily, "Did you find it?"

"Yeah," Nick replies, shifting the backpack so that he can pat it reassuringly. "I think it'll work. I didn't check for the parts — I figure we can do that back home."

John nods a few times. "Good," he mutters, "Good," as if maybe he doesn't think it's such a good thing at all. He falls silent, and Nick realizes he's waiting for Nick to say something about what he saw down there.

Nick wants to say something. He doesn't know what, though. His own thoughts are scattered and confused. "Uh... you mind if I close it up?" he asks.

John shakes his head mutely in response; the clang of the door rises up through the air like a stricken bell, scattering some birds that had been resting in the treetops.

"So... uh..." Nick rubs the back of his head, trying to decide what to say before deciding lamely to go with, "Do you... wanna talk about it?"

The fact that John doesn't immediately reply tells Nick all he needs to know. When John finally says, "No," Nick knows it's a lie, even if he's not sure what to do about it. Nick's positive that they do need to talk about it. But he doesn't know how he can force the issue, and he's sure he's not the man to do it. John needs a licensed psychologist, or a goddamn priest, someone who can absolve him of whatever the fuck that all was down there, not a hick aviator who can hardly handle his own trauma.

"Are you sure?" he presses. "I mean..."

John stares at the dirt, his hands curling into tense fists. Nick moves immediately to rescind the question, but John beats him to the punch. "I didn't know it would look like that," he tells the weeds matted under his boots. "I didn't think it would... be like that."

Nick wants to ask how John avoided noticing the mess spiraling out of control around him, but there had been plenty of evidence down there that proved John hadn't been in a clear state of mind.

"There... were issues with the power early on," John admits, clearing his throat roughly. "I would have to... prioritize. Switch on the lights, switch off the ventilation system. Switch off the lights, switch on the ventilation. Eventually, I stopped switching on the lights."

He swallows a few times and tries to bring his eyes to Nick's, but he can't seem to manage it. "Really," he mutters. "We don't have to talk about it." But before Nick can agree, because he suddenly wants to hear as little of the story as possible, John continues briefly onward, staggering the words as though he's throwing them off a cliff. "I've been locked in the dark before," he says. "I thought I could handle it. But I... I couldn't."

Nick doesn't know what to say. He stares helplessly at John, waiting for Kim to materialize out of the wood and point out the obvious emotional cue for him to take, but there's nothing but John's uncomfortable expression and a quiet forest all around them. He should reach out, maybe. Offer him a sympathetic hand, or something.

"That's all I want to say about it," John says at last.

"Uh. Okay." Nick clears his throat, tries to think up a good joke to lighten the mood, and fails completely. He tries to come up with something to say that would share his sentiment but nothing comes.

"Kim will start to worry," John mutters.

Kim's gonna worry no matter what, but Nick doesn't bother to tell John that. If he thinks he can hide his emotional distress from Nick's wife, then he is welcome to try. At least that'll be more fun to watch than the slow implosion happening in front of him now.

Nick waits until the silence between them on the way back doesn't feel so thick, then tries to distract from John's deeply pensive mood. "I'm not looking forward to reading more of that manual," he says as they trace the path back towards the house. "But I also don't wanna screw up our only chance at replacing it. It's a real tough situation."

"I assume the pictures aren't clear enough for you," John replies. It's a joke insult that stings mostly because of John's brisk delivery, and he ducks away as soon as the words leave his mouth. Nick considers taking it personally for a second, until John wearily mutters a sincere apology into the air between them. "I didn't mean that," he admits roughly.

"It's fine," Nick shrugs. After all, Nick's used to being a self-defensive dickhead; he can't exactly take offense.

Casually brushing it off seems to be the wrong thing to do. John comes to an abrupt halt behind Nick, thick tears gathering and spilling over his closed eyelids. At first, when Nick turns, he can't comprehend the sight in front of him, watching John's face slowly turn red. John sucks in a wet, heaving breath, which only makes things worse as it turns into a sob midway. It seems to mortify John, but he can't stop, and all at once he's just — crying, and Nick is left standing there while John covers his face in humiliation and sucks in deep, horrified breaths. Words try to form between the sobs, but all Nick hears is desperate wailing.

"Shit," Nick says, setting down the backpack, "Okay, hold on —"

"—Didn't know what to do," John's saying, the words tearing from his throat. "I got trapped, I didn't —"

"Hey," Nick tries, "Just — take a breath."

John sobs, dropping to his knees in the mulch. "I lost track of it," he gasps, "I don't know what's real, Nick. How much of this is happening — I keep thinking I'm not — I'm not ever getting out of here, and I —"

Oh, Nick knows he fucked up real bad now. John's cries tear through the scar overlaying his heart, as though twisting a knife that's rusted over in his chest. Nick thinks back to the muttering, the distant looks, the unsettling nightmares, and now he kind of sees them for what they are. Deep, visible wounds on John's psyche that he should have caught sooner. Signs of a collapse much bigger than the one that put them in this world to begin with. Clear indications that John wasn't ready to go back.

"Please," John gasps. He doesn't ask for anything, so Nick doesn't know what he wants, but he repeats the word like it's the only one he knows. "Please."

"God damn," Nick sighs, coming to John's side. "You are a real piece of work."

He can't help but try to deflect, even as he reaches out to grasp the dented curves of John's shoulders. He knows there are deep, claw-mark scars under his hands, even if he can't feel them through the flannel of John's shirt. He thinks he understands where they came from now, although the concept is more horrifying than Nick is willing to consider; all he can do is be better than John had been to himself, and hope that's enough.

Nick barely pulls John in before he's being grabbed, desperate claws sinking into Nick's back as John scrabbles for a secure grip. He's shaking so badly that Nick feels it rattling his own bones. There's nothing for Nick to do but hold on while John desperately tries not to fall apart at the seams, struggling to form coherent words. Nick only catches some of them, as John tries to explain the barriers, the tallies, the scarred over spaces where he used to have tattoos, but he doesn't need to understand the words to see the wounds that are being uncovered.

"Alone," John cries into Nick's chest, "I was alone, the whole time, he said I wouldn't be alone —"

"Okay," Nick consoles, "It's okay."

John eventually calms down, although it's anybody's guess how long it takes for him to finally catch his breath. Even when he does, his gasps finally leveling out, he keeps a tight grip on the back of Nick's shirt. Not even Carmina has clung to Nick so terribly, and despite the fact that John has a couple of years on him, Nick manages to feel desperately protective in the moment. He can't help it. John keeps talking like he can't tell up from down, and he'd been trapped down in that hole for who knows how long without power, and from the chaos he'd seen, it's clear John has been trying to protect himself for a long time.

"I've got ya," Nick says after John lets out a heavy sigh, finally losing the strength to hold on so tightly.

John's sweaty face is pressed into Nick's shoulder, but the words are still clear. "I need this to be real," he admits quietly. "I can't go back there."

"You don't have to," Nick says. He's rubbing John's back now and he doesn't know when he started, but the guy seems so desperate for the contact that he can't bring himself to stop. "You're not making me up, you know?"

John huffs. There might be a laugh somewhere in there, or Nick might be imagining it. "I know," he rasps. "I wouldn't be so kind to myself."

Oh, man. Nick sighs, patting his back gently. "Gotta work on that, I guess," he says. "We'll get you there."

John's fingers curl briefly against Nicks back. "Thank you," he mutters. "God, thank you."

Nick lets the situation lie like that for a minute or so. John is the first one to let go, his arms falling away from Nick's sides as he leans back and takes a deep, steady breath of air. Nick lets him go with a heavy pat on the shoulder, relieved to have the space if only because it means John isn't about to collapse again.

"Kim was right," John admits, saying aloud the thought that's been repeating nonstop in Nick's mind. "I should have listened to her."

Nick gets to his feet. "Yeah, probably. Thank God she isn't the type to say 'I told you so,' huh?"

John sits back, scrubbing at his face with the back of his sleeve. "I hope so," he says.

"I think I know my wife pretty well by now," Nick chuckles, holding his hand out for John. "C'mon, let's get home before she comes looking for us."

For an awful second, Nick thinks John is going to cry again, but he only grits his teeth and takes Nick's help to climb to his own feet. He dusts off his pants as though his face isn't warped by drying tear tracks, wiping belatedly at the wet skin under his eyes as they start onward again. Nick doesn't let him trail behind too far, but he doesn't force John to keep pace either, leaving enough space so that John doesn't feel self-conscious when he starts sniffling again.

They haven't been gone that long, but Kim is still waiting for them outside when they get back. She and Carmina are reading on the porch, but as soon as Nick and John reach the driveway, Kim drops the pretense entirely. Nick hears John take a deep breath behind him; he looks back, but John's expression is too troubled to get a good read. At least he doesn't seem likely to bolt.

"We got it!" Nick shouts as they walk across the drive, lifting the backpack up triumphantly.

"Oh, thank God," Kim sighs, relief flooding her expression. "Nobody got hurt?"

Nick looks back at John, then shrugs. "Nothing we can't fix," he suggests.

John takes a breath. He looks like he wants to spill everything right then and there, but he boils it all down into a simple admission. "I'm sorry," he mutters.

Stunned, Kim asks, "Are you okay?"

"No," he quietly replies. "You were right."

Kim shakes her head, glancing briefly at Nick before putting a gentle hand on John's arm. He sighs shakily at the contact, but thankfully he doesn't collapse into another crying wreck. Kim looks like she's expecting something like that, but John manages to surprise them both.

"We can talk about it later, if you want," Kim tells him, patting his shoulder.

There's relief in John's voice as he suggests, "I'll need a strong drink before I accept that offer."

Kim shakes her head, laughing a little. "It's as good a place to start as any," she tells him.

Carmina, who's been standing on the porch looking increasingly bored, finally gives up waiting for attention. "Hey, dad," she calls, lifting the radio's manual up in the air, "Can I help with the radio?"

"So much for my technological superiority," Nick sighs, raising his voice to tell Carmina, "Sure!"

"I couldn't help it," Kim replies. She has a smug expression that tells Nick a different story, but he can easily forgive her for deciding to make their kid smarter out of spite. It's better than trying to poison him or running off with Hurk and his raider gang. "I cleared off the table for you," she adds, "And I brought out the radio so you could get a better look at it."

"I guess there's no better time to start than now," Nick says. He offers John a lopsided grin and asks, "So, uh, how much do you know about electronic repair?"

"About as much as you," John replies. He gestures his arm towards the house, saying, "It can be a learning experience for us all."

As if this whole year so far hasn't been one big learning curve. Nick shakes his head, leading the three adults up to the porch. Carmina disappears inside, triumphantly waving the manual in the air, leaving Nick to chase playfully after her inside the house. He catches sight of Kim talking to John on the porch, but Carmina is squealing delightedly in his arms so he can't quite make out the conversation. Later on, he can tell Kim about what happened, but for now, she seems content with whatever John is saying, patting him again on the arm before leading him inside. She shuts the door behind her, and for the first time in almost a year, Nick feels as though he's finally home, surrounded by people on the same page as him for once. This, he thinks, could very well be his new normal, and that's not so bad at all.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

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kitsmits · 5 years ago

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KaiKashi Fluff Alphabet!

So @eye-of-moon-15 had an interesting request: the Fluff Alphabet for KaiKashi! This was lots of fun, thank you so much for asking for this! (It’s actually helping me get my mojo back for TUTN, too!) :)

Activities -What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Mostly they’re pretty content to just be in the same room, doing their own things. In a more “modern/AU” setting where TV is a thing (or I guess the...shudder...Boruto era?), they’d definitely do Netflix binges.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Kaiya has a thing for Kakashi’s facial bone structure. I mean, the man is practically chiseled from marble. She also reeeeally loves his shoulders. And back. And chest. Basically, the whole upper torso. Oh, and that lazy smile he has when he first wakes up.

Kakashi admires a lot about Kaiya...though if he HAD to pick...she has a great ass. He also loves how her whole face lights up when she’s excited about something, and how energetic she becomes.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Kaiya is more prone to panic attacks than depressive episodes, so when one happens, Kakashi first reminds her to breathe. He usually also stays near her, having her focus on him until she calms down, then holding her if she needs it.

Kakashi, on the flip side, is more prone to depressive episodes. When Kaiya notices one happening, she’ll often come up behind him and wrap her arms around him, just reminding him that he isn’t alone, he isn’t worthless or a failure, he is loved.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

For Kakashi, this is perhaps the first time he’s ever seen himself settling down, or even wanting to. He imagines the two of them traveling together, raising dogs or kids or both, and - wonder of wonders - growing old together.

Kaiya cannot imagine her future without Kakashi. Period. Whatever happens, whatever they wind up doing, it’ll be together. So...kind of the same ^_^

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Kaiya’s the dominant one. Kakashi is more passive and tends to defer to her :P

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Well, considering that Kaiya’s forgiven Kakashi for essentially lying about her own identity to her for much of her life...there isn’t much they can’t work through :P When they do fight or argue, they’re pretty opposite: Kaiya NEEDS to talk and express what she’s thinking and feeling, but Kakashi tends to process things internally. Especially in the beginning of their relationship (and long before it was romantic), this was very difficult for Kaiya especially to adjust to and understand. She would misinterpret his lack of communication as apathy, rather than recognize that Kakashi is just a much more introverted person who’s unused to expressing himself openly.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Sooooo grateful on both ends! Kaiya sometimes can’t believe that Kakashi has been with her, in one way or other, for so long - even during a more tumultuous period where she went back to a certain old flame. He understands her better than anyone has before, and his steady presence is like a rock for her.

Kakashi also can’t believe that this gorgeous, smart, witty woman sees anything in him - and not least of all because of the major lie that loomed over their friendship in the beginning! He’s long assumed he was either unworthy of love, or that even if he did get close to someone, that just meant that he’d lose them. Or - his worst nightmare - that HE would be the one to end their life somehow. He’s grateful for every day they’re alive together. Also, Kaiya challenges him, pushes him to be a more actively involved person in the village rather than simply following orders. She helped him become more proactive at a time in his life when he’d stagnated a bit.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Uhhhh....well, not anymore. After the Big Lie about Kaiya’s identity, they’ve endeavored to be honest with each other.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Lol - I feel like “G” kind of touched on this :P For Kaiya, Kakashi is a grounding force. Also, by learning to trust him again after the Big Lie, she learned to trust herself again as well - her instinct about him, that he was a good person, really had been right. After Itachi and the massacre...she’d lost that confidence in her own judgment.

Kakashi did change as well. By opening himself up to Kaiya, he opened himself up to living life and having a future.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Eh, not really on either side, actually. They trust each other - though they might get annoyed with people who are overly persistent with the other :P

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Kakashi is a GREAT kisser. Assertive, but not aggressive - a perfect balance of give and take. Very much a tease with his tongue :P

Kaiya is a passionate kisser, though she tends to let the other person take the lead. However, she’s more than happy to initiate :P

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

I’ll answer this as a hypothetical, though it happened in the old TUTN :P Kaiya would be pretty straightforward, though she’d ramble her way through it out of nervousness!

Kakashi...I think he’d be straight-forward too, but in a casual way. Like...he’d just say something like, “So...I like you.” And it would be out of nowhere, apropos of nothing. But it would also take him a looooooong time to finally say it :P

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

When the question of marriage comes up, it’s after they’ve been together for a while. They already live together. Heck, they may have already had a kid. It only comes up as a practical concern, or because other people have been hounding them about it. They wouldn’t want a big wedding, and would prefer to just elope. However, if that wasn’t an option (and it probably wouldn’t be), Kaiya would have Gorou give her away, and Kakashi would have Guy as his best man. After the wedding, it’d be back to life as usual, though they’d each get a kick out of calling each other “husband” and “wife” :P

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Kaiya has several for Kakashi: Old man, Copy-Nin, (teasing) sensei, (also teasing) Hokage-sama

Kakashi doesn’t have many for Kaiya. But when he is Hokage, he’ll call Kaiya “Hokage-sama” and insist she’s the one who does all the work. Partly in an attempt to make her do the work. :P

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Omg...just about everyone could tell these two would be a Thing long before they finally got together. They were constantly teasing and bantering with each other. Kakashi would actually show up on time to things having to do with Kaiya (well, sometimes). When they do finally get together, they don’t think they act any different...but they do. It’s in how they look at each other, how they always seem to be close together.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

They don’t actively hide it, but they don’t advertise, either. People know they’re together (See “O”), but they’re not big into PDA, at least at first. Later on, after they’ve been together a while and things are less tense in the village overall, they’re more open about having arms around each other and little pecks. They still save the heavier stuff for more private places.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Kakashi’s a good cook - better than Kaiya is! Kaiya CAN cook, and she’s learned a lot from Hikaru, but she’s more used to quick, convenient meals with long shelf lives.

Kaiya...well, her barrier jutsu has come in very handy at times...if ya know what I’m sayin’ ;)

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Kakashi likes making candlelit dinners for them. He definitely prefers it to going out! Kaiya humors Kakashi’s requests to try out things from Icha Icha ;) She’d never admit it out loud, but once she got past the squick factor of her godfather being the creator of that series, she actually has fun playing out the scenarios.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Definitely! These two are partners in many things - life, work. Even at the start, Kakashi supported and low-key mentored Kaiya, training with her so she could be a stronger fighter and being a sounding board for her Fuinjutsu work. For a while, Kaiya actually felt inadequate, like she didn’t have any way to reciprocate; Kakashi is older, more experienced...what did she offer? But she pushes him, keeps him on his toes, and provides confidence when he’s lacking. Eventually, they’re on more even footing in a lot of ways.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out their relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Sometimes, yes, they do try out new things - usually in the bedroom (or wherever they happen to be trying those new things!). There isn’t much in everyday life they try, though. They’re usually just relieved to have a relatively calmer, less drama- and danger-filled life.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

They’ve gotten to know each other very well. Again, in the beginning, Kaiya had a hard time with Kakashi because he just isn’t very outwardly expressive. But once she learned to interpret his subtle tells, and once he learned how to talk about his thoughts and feelings more, they’ve gotten very good at reading each other.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

It’s one of the most important things in each of their lives. It’s not the ONLY thing - there’s family, friends, their commitment to making the world better, etc. But they never take it for granted.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Behind closed doors, Kakashi is very cuddle-hungry! He loves to just hold Kaiya or rest on her lap or chest with her massaging his scalp. Sometimes he lays his head over her heart just to hear it beating.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Yes, just not as much in public view!

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

They’ll distract themselves, usually with work, or if possible (ie, they’re not on a lonely mission), with friends and family. If/when phones become a thing in the Narutoverse, they’d definitely call each other at least once a day to check in (assuming circumstances allowed).

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

I think so. It goes without saying that they’d die - or kill - for each other, but I see this question as being about other parts of a long term relationship. They’d be open to things like counseling. One might think that their busy, mission-filled lives would get in the way and create resentment on at least one side...but for the most part, it doesn’t. One of the reasons they work so well together is that they both understand how important the village and their work is. They’re used to putting other things above their own needs and desires. However...sometimes they do need to just take time off to be together, just the two of them. Sometimes that’s harder for them to do than arguing or fighting off enemies. Again, they don’t take their relationship for granted necessarily...but they do forget that they’re allowed to be selfish sometimes for their own sakes.

#tutn #to unravel the night #kaikashi #Kakashi #kakashi x oc #Kaiya #fluffy alphabet #alphabet prompt

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howlingmoonrise · 5 years ago

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Dear Yuletide Author

hello and thank you for signing up for yuletide, i hope you have fun during the challenge!

i ramble a lot so my letter is under a readmore (i put everything in one post so you don’t have to juggle links around). obviously you don’t have to follow any of the things i put in here, but hopefully this will help you out!

general things i like

PINING. I’M SUCH A SLUT FOR PINING ALL THE PINING ULTRA PINING SUPER PINING. i have SO MUCH FUN reading about idiots in love who aren’t together yet and i far prefer it to fics with already established relationships. this is also applicable to when they know the other is in love with them but they can’t act on it for some reason.

i’m down for either gen or romantic!! what really does it for me is the developing relationship, platonic or otherwise, and the character dynamics and interactions and all the little moments in between. stuff like developing trust and finding kinship and growing respect for the other and subconsciously learning to lean on the other over anyone else is far more important for me than any kissing will ever be (though kissing is also nice if you wanna go down that route lmao)

i love love LOVE enemies/rivals-?to-friends?-to-lovers and bickering pairs in general, as you can probably tell by my choice in character! it’s so much fun and it gives us so many opportunities for character and relationship developments :D

continuing from the above points, nothing kills me as much as characters that bicker all the time but in the end they rely on the other and go to each other before they go to anyone else, whether they realize it or not

i REALLY like the canon and characters for all the fandoms i picked, so sticking at least to their characterizations and the overall “tone” of canon is a huge plus!! “missing scenes” and “what if” canon-divergent situations are excellent, as are continuations from where canon left us! that being said, i also enjoy more conceptual AUs and i’ve put more details about those a little further below. rule of thumb is that i enjoy AUs where the focus remains more on the relationship itself and how it works on such a setting than on the worldbuilding for it.

fun tropes i enjoy (sorry, these are a bit romance-leaning but if you’re not into that they can probably be adapted somehow): fake dating, accidentally got roped into x and shenanigans of all sorts keep happening, misunderstood confessions, groundhog day au, one or both the characters having stupid levels of denial while technically in a relationship and just not realizing it like What Do You Mean We’re Dating??, that sorta thing.

TROPE SUBVERSION ALL THE WAY!

general things i dislike

kidfics. babyfics. next gen fics. pregnancy fics, or even pregnancy discussed in the fic is a major squick of mine. the one exception i make for kidfics is for petshop of horrors when it comes to chris and the pets, as they already belong in canon, but no babies or children otherwise please.

future fics in general, actually. what i enjoy is the relationship development, so huge time skips make me feel like we missed way too much. one exception to this is post-canon petshop of horrors, for obvious reasons.

i usually don’t like most angst stuff since it feels a bit gratuitous to me when it comes to most fandoms and characters. the one exception for this is psoh (see below if you’re picking this fandom - and wow psoh seems to be the exception to everything huh) or when it’s a more introspective sort of fic. as a result of this, i’d pass on most content with major character death, sexual abuse, self-harm, the like, though of course there are always exceptions to the rule and you’re free to write as you wish!

hard AUs are a bit ugh to me. by this i mean AUs that rely heavily on setting, such as high school AUs, harry potter AUs, that sort of thing. i DO however enjoy stuff like siren AUs and soulmate AUs, depending on the concept and on the fandom. more details in their own sections if you enjoy writing those!

i heavily dislike things involving cheating/infidelity, sickfics, and genderbending of any kind is a bit ehhhh for me, as are concepts such as ABO. hard pass on stuff like dysphoria and deep diving into most mental illnesses, too (with a possible exception for depression when it comes to psoh).

script-based or roleplay fic is not really my preferred format, i really enjoy prose instead of nearly all dialogue!

if you’re going for nsfw

kinks

moderate sadomasochism, uncommon forms of bondage (plants, stuck with strange substance or in awkward position, the shadows from p&tf as restraints, etc), choking/breathplay, xenophilia and tentacles/alien genitals (shadowplay in p&tf, non-human genitals for the staryk lord, etc), moderate degradation, edging/desperation play, ladies topping and calling the shots, bloodplay/knifeplay, long hair/hair pulling (staryk lord, leon orcot), sharp nails/claws (staryk lord, charlotte la bouff, count d; miryem mandelstam having them is actually preferable to the staryk lord now that i think of it), lowkey cannibalism imagery (count d re:leon orcot)

squicks

scat, vomit, praise kink, daddy or baby kink, vore, forced feminization, pet play, gore, abuse, abo, anything involving pregnancy at all

PETSHOP OF HORRORS

i’m usually not very partial to angst but GODS does psoh throw that out of the window, so feel more than free to run with it if you wanna go down that route. psoh is RIPE for angst. we got two people with abandonment and inadequacy issues: leon who decided to leave his whole life behind to chase someone who gave him life and then left and initially didn’t even bother to do it with any sort of goodbyes, and d who is supremely fucked up by his upbringing and had to push leon off the ark to continue his family’s mission and let drop one (1) single tear that he was not supposed to cry over a human. those fuckers. those idiots. i love them so much.

THAT BEING SAID, i also!!!! love slice of life shit for them!!!!!!!! GODS i love how much they bicker but then they turn around and the other is the person they rely on the most and who they trust implicitly above all others and how they keep roping each other into ridiculous shenanigans. neither of them are particularly communicative with a few rare exceptions, so there’s also a lot of room there for introspection and unspoken affection on both sides, which i LOVE. my son leon in particular is also super underestimated when it comes to his intelligence and tolerance for gay shit both in canon and fandom, and he performs ridiculous leaps of logic and instinct that somehow turn out to be right but that are super ???? for everyone else involved, and that’s always fun to see. hell, just another missing scene where leon brings d some cake and they banter fondly over tea is A++++ to me!!

nsfw???? bring it!!! this is the one fandom where you’re more than free to go super dark and kinky if you wanna, or if you wanna write tender loving reunion sex where d cries a little while leon is loving and disbelieving and so very careful that’s also excellent! i don’t have a particular preference on who tops either, it’s fun either way, but i tend to see leon more as a sub/masochist >u> i can also see it going a bit dark with those two, especially considering d and his kind (implied to eat human flesh and being predators more than once) so bloodplay and cannibalistic thoughts could be fun. re: d’s genitals (as are hotly debated in the fandom), i usually prefer either a dick or triple threat d, though some fun plant-man shenanigans also have their place here.

all in all, psoh is the most excellent genre triangle where i’d be super happy to receive anything on the slice-of-life/angst/smut corners! (also, slash is 3249823% acceptable if you couldn’t tell by my ranting, as is a hint of crack)

if you’re thinking going AU on this one, my suggestions are of slight universe alterations instead of major world AUs. examples could be soulmate AUs (trope subversion would be GREAT here, aka foreign script they didn’t initially recognize, or only Ds having soulmates while humans do not, or the same scenario as the last but leon DOES have it on his skin and just keeps it hidden because Normal Humans Don’t Have Birth Tattoos, or d never expected to have one because his kind is dead and yet when he pushes leon from the ark the soulmate bond is forged, etc), a different first meeting, or even missed connections when they did not know each other yet; something like papa being alive and brady bunch-ing it up with them and chris would also be both excellent and hilarious. epistolary form for those two is also fun! if you wanna go full universe AU, something like a vampire hunter leon could be very interesting >u>

SPINNING SILVER

WHERE DO I EVEN START. miryem and the staryk lord were my favourite part of the book; if the book was only their story i would have already been more than satisfied. the rest of the book is also excellent, but those two???? that story was far too great. enemies to allies to lovers is one of my favourite tropes, and this is one of the examples that just keeps proving me right. the slowly growing respect, the wariness when they both know what the other is capable of, the staryk lord getting hit with the hots for his wife when she manages the impossible and then miryem being unable to just let it go when he’s imprisoned and defeated. ACTUALLY lemme just grab that line of thought and bring up that moment when he was sorrowful and resigned when miryem didn’t argue further for the three rooms full of gold and he thought she would not succeed and that she would have to die for it. that, right there? those moments of renewed respect, those moments sudden longing for something they did not know they wanted? those are the things that kill me.

tonally, i love the sort of writing in canon too much to ask for anything different, though you’re by no means obliged to keep to it or to 1st person pov (i have a love-hate relationship with 1st person pov, ngl). missing moments from the novel or moments from the period of time they spent either courting or apart would be GREAT. for those two i actually don’t mind it too much if they’re already established, if it’s early on in the relationship when they’re still learning how to step around one another. the staryk lord flabbergasted or in awe of miryem is always Excellent(TM). bits of worldbuilding and staryk culture would be fun as applied to their relationship (such as the names thing, or courting habits, etc) as are AUs such as soulmates or alternate meetings and the like. if you’re wanting to go full universe AU, keeping some fairytale elements would be great!

if you’re going for nsfw? the name kink, holy shit that would be so goooood. the staryk lord being a bit of a masochist under miryem’s hands would also be great, and inhuman staryk genitals and erogenous zones/acts would be great to play with such as human body heat affecting them in different ways from normal, etc. bringing in his long hair would be a major plus. the build-up for the actual act is the best, so miryem and the staryk lord being super hot for each other while either denying it internally pre-relationship or being unable to go through with it post-relationship due to several factors (busy dealing with their people, no privacy, etc) would be EXCELLENT. so much fun can be had here!

PRINCESS AND THE FROG

i am 100% aware this is a weird-ass pairing but gods, the possibilities. it has so much potential. there are few things i like quite as much as a villain and a good person developing a strange sort of kinship with each other. this doesn’t have to mean in a romantic way, obviously! as i said, for me it’s the building understanding and reluctant respect that i really love, far more than the actual romance.

ideas, ideas, ideas. i’m aware this is a rare relationship to either portray or ask for, so i’m gonna try to give some more concrete-ish ones for you to build up on if you have no clue as to how to approach this. we could have canonverse with charlotte dealing with the shadowman in some other matter while the main plot is occurring, making him feel somewhat guilty about the whole marriage plot with laurence-turned-naveen; cue introspection or an entirely different outcome. or a post-canon sort of hades&persephone plot, with charlotte curious despite herself and tempted to listen to a shadow/dead/whatever!dr facilier when she’s the only one that can hear him, or her being dragged Beneath as well in a freak accident and then charming him into helping her back to the surface/living world (very, veeeeery reluctantly on his part, at least at the start, he might have even be thinking of tricking her but then change his mind when the time comes to do it). i think dr facilier wouldn’t be sure how to deal with charlotte’s particular brand of personality and good humour, and it’d throw him off his rhythm a lot - that sort of thing is always super fun to write.

soulmate au in canon would work pretty well, but with this pairing? FULL WORLD AU IS YOURS FOR THE TAKING. keeping to the shadowman sort of thing to her normal bougie self would be a major plus; it’s one of her charms. also, charlotte thinking that she wants one thing (her prince, for example) while keeping getting drawn to him time and time again could work on pretty much any era or setting. vice-versa for him, thinking he wants to be rid of her but coming to realize he’d actually miss her if she were to be gone. OR, charlotte deciding she wants this sullen manipulative bastard and manipulating HIM into taking her out and hanging out with her would be hilarious.

if you wanna do nsfw, i have only one major request: charlotte calling the shots/topping. i think this arrangement would be entirely in character for both of them (dr facilier would prob also enjoy having someone else do all the work lol) considering her go-getter attitude, but keeping in mind his manipulative personality i’d be more comfortable if she had some control over what was happening. ASIDE FROM THAT, dyou know what would be fun? a little darkness, and by that i mean consider dr facilier’s shadow joining in on the fun. shadows would also be an interesting sort of constraint. also i know i said charlotte calling the shots, but she can be constrained by the shadows while being amused by it or being used for it to happen (the latter case implying it’s not the first time that they’ve used it in bed play), or charlotte could team up with Shadow to do it to facilier instead. charlotte using her nails and facilier being a bit of a sub/masochist would also be pretty good!

(actually in general it’d be really fun if there was some complicity between charlotte and facilier’s shadow in general, regardless of nsfw or not. the shadow being wrapped around her little finger is an excellent concept, especially if facilier isn’t too fond of her just yet lmfao.)

thank you for reading all my rambling, and i hope you have fun!

#howl rambles a lot #yuletide #yuletide 2019 #dear yuletide author

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 6 years ago

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S.T REWRITE - S1:E3; Chapter Three, Holly, Jolly - [Pt.5 - FINAL PART]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

With the help of their new friend, Y/n, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas set out to search for Will. Joyce is convinced her missing son is trying to talk to her.

||3rd Person POV||

Nancy slammed the front door behind her.

"Hey! You're home early! How was the game?" Karen Wheeler asked, never looking up from her mixing bowl.

When Nancy didn't reply, Karen looked up. She found her daughter standing in the hallway, clearly fighting tears.

"Nancy? What's the matter?"

Nancy couldn't hold back her tears any longer.

"It's Barb. I think... something happened. Something terrible." Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper and Karen stared at her daughter worriedly.

× × ×

"I don't know, Chief." Powell sighed.

The two men were seated at one of the tables at the library.

"What don't you know?"

"This lady Terry Ives, sounds like a real nut to me. Her kid was taken for LSD mind control experiments? She's been discredited. Claim was thrown out--"

"Okay, forget about her." Hopper interjects, swiping the newspaper clipping aside and pulling up a different one.

"Take a look at this."

Hopper points the man in the lab coat and tie from the column he found earlier.

"Dr. Martin Brenner."

"Who?"

"Brenner. He runs Hawkins Lab."

"Okay."

Hopper scoffs, and leans back in his chair.

"You don't find that interesting?"

"Not really." Powell states, clearly still confused. "He was involved in some hippie crap back in the day, so what?"

"No, this isn't hippie crap. This is CIA-sanctioned research."

"Doesn't mean he had anything to do with our kid." Powell offers.

"Come on. Look at that. Hospital gowns. All of 'em. Now that piece of fabric that the teacher found by the pipe. That sure looked like a hospital gown to me, huh? Am I wrong?" Hopper pressed.

"I don't know, Chief."

Hopper sighed deeply. "Come on, man. Work with me here. I'm not saying that there's some grand conspiracy. I'm just..."

Hopper pauses, sighing once more. "I'm saying maybe something happened. Maybe Will was in the wrong place at the wrong time and he saw something that he shouldn't have."

Powell considered this. "It's a reach."

"It's a start."

Suddenly the crackling of the comms interrupted their thoughts. Callahan's voice crackled on the other end.

"Hey, Powell, is the chief with you?"

Before Powell could respond, Hopper leaned forward with a sigh and picked up. "Hopper here. What do you got?"

The library doors slammed open and Hopper and Powell ran out to the car in a hurry. The sun was setting by now, and they hopped in the car. The vehicle roared to life as the sirens began blaring.

||Reader's POV||

We were still walking, my feet grew sore and darkness had already set in. El was at the front, taking confident strides, the boys and I following eagerly behind. That's when it hit me.

I know this road. This is Will's house.

'What are we doing here?'

She stopped and turned around, facing all of us.

"Here."

"Yeah, this is where Will lives."

"Hiding." She said.

I blinked a few times, unsure.

"But... I-I don't understand." My heart fell.

"No, no, this is where he lives. He's missing from here. Understand?"

Lucas and Dustin had finally caught up, the two of them dropped their bikes in frustration. Something in Lucas snapped, and he spoke up, clearly frustrated.

"What are we doing here?"

"She said he's hiding here."

"Um... no!"

Anxiety began to take over my body as the boys began to argue. I wanted to defend El but, truthfully I was having a hard time with it myself.

"I swear, if we walked all the way out here for nothing--" Dustin began, but he was quickly cut off by Lucas shouting.

"That's exactly what we did. I told you she didn't know what the hell she was talking about!"

Mike, who was looking less and less patient, turned to El.

"Why did you bring us here?"

El seemed to lose the ability to speak properly. She stuttered, clearly nervous.

"Mike, don't waste your time with her."

As the boys continued fighting, I brought my hand up to my chin. Nervously scratching my wound, just so my hand could be occupied. A nervous habit of mine.

"What do you want to do then?"

'Wait a minute.'

"Call the cops, like we should have done yesterday."

'That's not possible.'

"We are not calling the cops!"

'My wound. It's... It's gone. Completely gone.'

My face contorted out of confusion and bewilderment. But before I could register

what was happening, Dustin began shouting to get out attention. I looked to him, waiting.

"Hey, guys?"

"What other choice do we have?"

"Guys!"

We all turned and watched as Dustin stepped forward. His eyes on the nearby road. We all fell silent.

And that's when I heard it.

'No. No, no, no.'

The daunting sound of sirens grew louder with every second. A few police cars zoomed by.

'That could be anything. Right?'

An ambulance was in close pursuit.

My stomach plunged.

"Will..." the words left my mouth without me realizing. I ran for my bike and the boys followed.

We sped off into the night, my bike tires sprayed mud all over me, soaking my socks as we zipped through puddles and over hills, but I didn't care.

'I have to get to him.'

He has to be okay.

He has to be.

||3rd Person POV||

Joyce set down the paint can and looked to wall of letters, shaking. "Okay. Okay, baby, talk to me." She shifted on her feet nervously rubbing her hands together. "Talk to me. Where are you?"

'R'

"'R.' Good, good, good, good. That's good. Come on, come on."

'I'

"'I...G...H...T...H...E...R...E.''Right here.' 'Right here?' I-I don't know what that means. I need you to tell me what to do. What should I do? How do I get to you? How do I find you? What should I do?"

'R'

'U'

'N'

The strange sound of crunching and chomping can be heard before every light in the house begins to flicker violently. She turns around in silent terror and sees the massive figure push it's way through the wall. It tears through the wall like fabric and staggers in. Joyce sprints for the back door.

||Reader's POV||

The chase felt like it lasted for hours. Normally I would be exhausted by now, but I was too worried about Will. I was much farther ahead of everybody but not enough that we couldn't communicate..

Time seemed to stretch on forever as we rode through the fog. It was harder to recognize the area at night, but I was fairly certain we were near to the quarry.

'Oh, no. Please, no.'

||3rd Person POV||

Joyce hasn't stopped running since she left the living room. Her legs grew tired as she ran down the concrete road but she refused to stop. She spares a second to look behind her as she runs and when she looks back a car comes to a halt barely missing her.

"Mom?" Jonathan calls, scrambling out of the car to his startled mother.

"Mom, what happened?"

Joyce only whimpered as she held her son tight.

||Reader's POV||

"Oh, God no." I whined.

We made it down to the quarry and there were at least three police cars, a fire truck and an ambulance. A bunch of firemen and paramedics were standing just knee deep in the water.

We came to a grinding halt behind the firetruck and I abandoned my bike as soon as my feet touched the ground.

I ran to the end of the firetruck, peeking out from the side. I knew that if I made myself known they would shoo me away.

I watched in horror as they pulled a lifeless body from the water, and placed it on a water rescue stretcher.

Tears were brimming in my eyes, making it harder to tell who it was. I don't want to believe it, I really truly don't, but some were deep down I knew.

"It's not Will. It can't be." Mike said, disbelieving.

My heart was in my throat as I fought back the tears which were now stinging my eyes.

But then I saw it. The small, lifeless body. He was wearing the same red vest he wore on that night. I was speechless. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I lost my breath. It made me shrink into Lucas, I buried my face in his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around me.

"It's Will. It's really Will." Lucas whispered.

The noise I made was incoherent. I let out wail and tore myself away from Lucas's embrace.

"Will? Will!" I called. Lucas and Dustin pulled me back. I fought and screamed my throat raw. I wanted to get to him. To see if it was really true. But I was too weak. Defeat set in and I went limp, collapsing onto the ground and I hugged my knees.

"Mike..." El choked out. She reached a hand out to Mike's shoulder in comfort and slapped her away.

"'Mike'? 'Mike,' what? You were supposed to help us find him alive! You said he was alive!"

I couldn't stop my tears. I feel confused, angry, frightened. I feel heartbreak.

"You said he was alive! Why did you lie to us? What's wrong with you? What is wrong with you?"

"Mike..."

"What?"

She stared at Mike, at a loss for words. She turned to me, but all I could do was look up at her. I hugged my knees and cried more. Panic consumed her as she looked at me and then back at Mike.

"Will..." I whimpered.

"Mike, come on. Don't do this man. Mike." Lucas voice broke.

I didn't care he was leaving. It didn't even completely register. I just sat there, mourning my best friend.

"Mike, where are you going? Mike!"

I sat there, numb as I watched them pull Will out of the water. I watched as Will's lifeless, pale body was carried off by strangers.

'Why? Why him? Why now?’

Another sob wracked my body as I watched completely helpless as my best friend was being carried away in body bag.

||3rd Person POV||

Mike swung open his front door and slammed it just as fast. He stood frozen in front of his parents who looked to be comforting Nancy.

"Michael?" Karen called. "What's wrong?" She strode swiftly towards her weeping son who hesitantly held his arms out. She enveloped him in a hug and he collapsed into sobs.

× × ×

Taglist: @fuckwaad @aimee-lucass

DM me if you want to be added to my permanent taglist!

#stranger things #stranger things rewrite #stranger things reader insert #stranger things imagine #will byers x reader #will byers x you #will byers #millie bobby brown #sadie sink #finn wolfhard #caleb mclaughlin #gaten matarazzo #holly jolly [pt.5] FINALE

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crypticnala · 6 years ago

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r/supdating

Erumike supernatural week!

Day 1: Vampires and Werewolves

Summary: In Erwin long life he had seen many things. He wasn't really surprised by anything anymore. Sure, he still felt fascination and wonder. But nothing like having your breath taken away. And yet...

Rating : T Warning : No warning applies Wordcount : 1k6

Read on ao3 here or under the cut!

2018 - City Unknown

I clicked on the small round red icon with a white robot on it and soon enough was redirected to the home page of reddit. The small red envelope on top let me knew that I had one message to read, but I set it aside, preferring to browse the "best" of the subs I was following. Five minutes later, and a little deeper than where I was at the beginning, I couldn't take it anymore. That little red icon kept calling me, the bright color always in the corner of my vision, in the corner of my mind. I knew who it was. It could only be him, and the thought both filled me with excitation and dread. I ignored it for three threads before giving in. Sighing, I clicked on the inbox button. And as expected, there is was, the only message in my unread box. Mikemotor had answered. You would ask "What the hell is a vampire doing on reddit?" And I would answer with "Well, everyone needs to pass the time, especially vampires who have copious amount of it on their hands". So yes, this is how I found myself on reddit, wasting hours and hours away on popular and not so popular subs. What had brought me here first was my interest in modern mechanics and more particularly in mechanical transports. Cars, buses, trains, planes, motorcycle… It was so fascinating the way humans found new ideas to move themselves! Hell, I was as excited as a child when the overboard got out! And yes, I did buy one. And also, yes, I did fall and then kept the damn thing in my closet never to be brought out again. But it had been fun. So, in my constant search for more information about these moving vehicles that did not involves any animal of any kind, I stumbled upon the website reddit and decided it was good enough to feed me information that I was seeking. The community aspect was also what drew me to it. You actually interacted with other people, and for a vampire as old as me, it was something I was always searching. Interacting with other humans, it helped me stay in touch with the real world, helped learn the slangs, the new trends… It was the best way for me to try to keep an ounce of humanity. It was hard trying to keep up when you could only come out at night. And even if I could come out during the day, the truth was, after years of being a vampire, there was this impassable barrier that kept you from the humans. You sought them out when you needed them, but socializing? God forbid.

So I took what I could and lived on social interaction through a screen with stranger. And this is how I met u/mikemotor. It had started with small interactions, I saw him make a comment on r/MotorcyclePorn, and then on r/Motorcycle and then on every subs that I had a relation by far or not with motorcycles. I had first responded to one of his comments on one sub, then on another sub, and before I knew it, we were following each other and started a private conversation about whether one should go Italian or Japanese when choosing a racing motorcycle. But that was two five hundred messages ago. I had learned quite a few things about him, his name was Mike (big surprise there), he was a mechanic working in a garage that specialized in motorcycles (which explained all the motorcycle subs he was on), he was 34, was an only child, liked old and classic rock though he rarely went to concert or festival, liked spicy food (that one was very interesting as people eating a lot of spicy food had… interesting blood), and a surprise encounter on a gay nsfw sub let me knew what was Mike's sexuality and that he took working out very seriously and was what the gay community would label as "a wolf". We both learned that we lived in the same city, and it was only a matter of time before one of us asked to meet "irl". The day was tomorrow night. Mike had asked if I fancied having a beer with him, and while I told him I did not drink beer (I did not drink except blood really) I agreed to meet him after sundown. The message he had just sent me was to confirm the time and place. I replied shortly, telling it was fine on my end. I closed the computer, rubbing my eyes, it was an old habit very humanlike that I had actually never gotten rid of. I never needed to actually rub my eyes. Musing about our meeting of tomorrow I closed the computer and went about my night. As I lay in my bed, getting ready to sleep for the day, I couldn't help the small flutter of nerve that buzzed in my stomach. That was new, and I for one, did not dislike it. I glanced around the street, crossing when there was a pause in traffic, heading to the pub on the other side. The Beacon red in green letter above the door of the bar. It wasn't a fancy or too modern bar like you found in the city center. This one was in a discreet street, the front in warm brown wood, the dark green letters on it giving a comforting vibe. The music inside was good, the people there nice, the drink (from what I gathered) where good, everything inside was comfy and clean. Said like that, it was a perfect bar. Little did people know, The Beacon was also a "mixed" bar, like the community liked to call them. And I'm speaking about the general supernatural community. The bar was owned by a couple of demons, and contrary to some more selective club that used witchcraft to keep humans at bay, The Beacon welcomed everyone. Now, did Mike knew that? Or was he just a normal human that had stumbled upon this gem and decided it would be a good place for a first date. I mean, first meeting an "irl" friend. I shrugged the slight discomfort that had settled in my stomach and opened the door. Immediately the noise and the smell were too much for me. Cons of being a vampire with super sensitive sense. Still in the entrance, I tried to get my bearing. Relaxing, I searched through the crowd for Mike. He had told me he would be wearing a black leather jacket, but really, how many people wore leather jacket to go out? That's right, a shit ton. Apprehension growing, I scanned the crow once more, trying to find something, picking up leather jackets man before setting them aside, and then, there, at the back, sitting alone at a table, I saw him. I would have recognized the built and the presence everywhere. Strong arms, large chest, long brown hair, and eyes so dark they almost seemed black in the dimmed light. Something dropped, setting heavy in the pit of my stomach. I made my way to Mike, keeping my eyes on him, soon enough he shifted and looked up my way. His gazed fixed mine, and there, just now it came, his eyes widened in realization. I stopped in front of the table and looking him up and down. For a wolf, Mike was a damn wolf. As in, a fucking werewolf. I opened my mouth to speak, not even knowing what was going to come out, before Mike’s guffaw interrupted me. "You must be Erwin, I'm Mike" he stood, extending a hand, "it's a surprise, but I can't say I'm mad.", we shook hand, and I belatedly noticed that my body had decided to act on its own accord. I nodded to him, hand still clapped together. When they had first touched, the deep feeling in my stomach had stirred, filling from my head to my toes with warmth. Mike's hand still in mine, I stared at him, that feeling, that warm feeling, I knew it. It was the feeling that I knew this man. I was familiar with this hand, with this half smile, with that twinkle in his eyes. I knew him. And as sure as I knew him, I also knew that this was the first time I was seeing this man in my entire life. "Mike," I finally took my hand away, not sure how to respond to this new development. Mike smiled back, but it was strained, like something was also on his mind. His eyes went unfocused a short time before fixing on me again. "Erwin", he sat down, gesturing to the seat in front of him for me to sit too, "I'd offer you something to drink, but I guess you wouldn't be quite pleased with what they have on the menu here". I sat, smiling faintly, still trying to figure out how to go from there. We sat, staring at each other, not saying a word. A damn werewolf. Mike was probably thinking the same thing, trying to figure out how in hell had he befriended a damn vampire. I cleared my throat, trying to find something to say. "So you come here often?" I heard my mouth utter the word, while my brain was simultaneously screaming at me to shut it. All those years living, all the beauty of poetry, romance, music I lived through, and all I could say was that awful pickup line? But Mike laughed, his eyes crinkling, and once again that warm feeling washed all over me. "Come on, I'll go get something to drink, we'll talk and who knows, maybe you will get something to drink later tonight", he said standing up. He winked at me before disappearing in the crowd. Oh hell. You might as well enjoy your night, you old bat.

#erumikesuper2k18 #erumikeweek #erumike #erwin smith #mike zacharias #day 1 : vampires and werewolves #my fic

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feadae · 6 years ago

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So I’m in the choir for a community production of The Hunchback of Notre Dame musical (my first community theater show, now that I think on it--!!!) and I’ve loved almost every second of it so far.

The only seconds I haven’t loved are the seconds when we rehearse (SPOILERS) Esmeralda’s death.

For those of you who haven’t seen the show (live or bootleg - I also am poor and nowhere near the coasts; I don’t judge), Quasi’s just poured molten lead on the square at Notre-Dame and he comes back into the bell tower, where he laid Esmeralda after taking her away from her pyre, and he’s being his heartbreakingly adorable self and she has a short reprise of “Top of the World.” That finishes, and Quasi tells Esmeralda, “Can stay inside here forever!” Coughing, voice weakening, she replies, “I don’t think...forever. You’re such a good friend, Quasimodo.” He smiles and says, “Yes. Your friend.” And Esmeralda dies and it’s heartwrenching, but this is where I stop, because I’ve reached the part that bugs me.

Every time our Esmeralda says, “You’re such a good friend, Quasimodo,” at least one person (usually more) in the cast and/or choir says something scolding Esmeralda for “friendzoning” Quasi on her deathbed. They’re never serious; it’s clearly a joke, but it still bugs me and I’m having trouble articulating why it bugs me, so if you don’t mind I’m going to try to figure out words here.

First off, the whole concept of “friendzoning” as a bad thing bugs me, partly because of its association with Nice Guy culture, which--ew--but also because of its implication that friendship is inferior to romance and/or sex.

It’s not.

Especially for Quasimodo, y’all! Poor boy’s lived twenty whole years with only Frollo for human contact and only the gargoyles’ voices in his head for friends. He’s grown up loving Frollo like a father, but that love hasn’t been returned, and on some level, I think he can tell--his body language whenever Frollo’s onstage with him, as well as the fact that he addresses Frollo as “Master” (probably at Frollo’s instruction), are indicators that he’s afraid of/intimidated by Frollo, and I’m sorry, but if you’re afraid of your parental figure(s), then they’re not doing their job very well, and they’re certainly not your friend(s). And they probably don’t consider you theirs.

All that to say, Quasimodo hasn’t had a friend his whole life, nor has anyone ever told him anything positive about him, so for Esmeralda to tell him he’s a good friend to her is h u g e. She is affirming that he is a person, that he is a good person, and that she’s grateful for all that he’s done for her in the few weeks he’s known her.

I put up a mild protest when it happened today (it had to be quick and quiet, because y’know rehearsal, and I didn’t want to ruffle too many feathers--I’m really good at ruining jokes and bringing down the mood), and the person next to me--still with that joking demeanor, but defending the joke--said that Esmeralda “friendzoned” Quasi in that he loved her and made his love known and she rejected him, chose Phœbus instead, and called Quasi her friend on her deathbed (the person asserted that the “dying friendzone” was worse than a normal one, because there was no chance for Esmeralda to change her mind).

And, like, yeah, he loved her and made his love known--wouldn’t you, too, if you’d lived your whole life only experiencing half-assed, bare-bones “kindness” from an authority figure who constantly told you that you were a deformed, ugly monster, unfit to even leave the building you grew up in, and then when you do leave and your worst fears are realized and people scorn and abuse you for looking different, this person you admire not only tells everyone to stop hurting you, but also defends you, helps you, and apologizes for inadvertently starting the whole ordeal?

I’d probably fall in love on the spot, too.

I mean, I’ve been very lucky to grow up with a family who loves me and tells me so all the time, and I’ve had friendships come and go and come to stay, and still I very nearly fall in love all the time with people who are decent human beings to me. In this very show, when the cast lets me linger on the edge of their conversations and occasionally contribute, I get this thrill of “holy shit I’m one of the gang,” and if someone goes so far as to address me by name? ??? I short-circuit. They know my name! These people are so much cooler than I’ll ever be, and so much better at being functioning, social human beings, but they know my name and they use it and I’m a person! It sounds strange and made-up when I write it down, but it’s seriously what goes on in my head. When people I admire take the half-second it takes to say my name.

And I didn’t grow up isolated and abused in a bell tower.

Back to the other points the person made: Esmeralda chose to pursue a relationship with Phœbus, yes, but she didn’t outright reject Quasimodo. She looked out for him and remained his friend, telling him she’d help him when he needed it (remember, that’s why she gave him the amulet map to the Court of Miracles--as a thank-you for him helping her hide Phœbus, she gave Quasi the amulet and told him, “And if you ever need help, come find me in the Court of Miracles”). Even when he asked her to stay with him and hide in the crypts under Notre-Dame, she made sure that he understood that she wasn’t turning him down because she didn’t like him, she was turning him down to protect him and herself (“I can’t, Quasimodo. It would be too dangerous--not just for me, but for you, too.”).

And I don’t think she chose Phœbus because he’s conventionally pretty. I don’t remember who posted it, but I saw a post on here (it might have been a quote, for all I know/remember) that said something along the lines of “Frollo saw Esmeralda as a devil. Quasimodo saw her as an angel. Phœbus saw her as Esmeralda. So she chose Phœbus.” That says it better and more concisely than I can. Frollo was never an option for Esmeralda romantically, so we’re leaving him at the door. And Quasimodo is an absolute sweetheart and loyal and kind to the core, but because he grew up so isolated and maltreated, he idolized the first person to show him true kindness, which wouldn’t have ended well even if Esmeralda had survived and had chosen to pursue a romance with Quasi--putting people on pedestals isn’t healthy for either person involved; at some point, whether knowingly (I doubt it, in this case) or otherwise, Esmeralda would have failed Quasi in some way--not because she doesn’t care, but just because she’s human, and humans can’t be perfect--and it would have crushed him. It’s not good for Esmeralda, either--through no fault of his own (see again the twenty-year isolation point: he doesn’t know any better), Quasi is basically objectifying her. This isn’t to say he has bad intentions, or that his love isn’t real--he’s not objectifying Esmeralda the way Frollo does--it’s just to say that Esmeralda recognized that in the end, neither she nor Quasi would be happy in a romantic relationship with each other, but she saw that he desperately needed and deserved a friend, so she became his friend. Phœbus initially compares Esmeralda to an angel in “Rhythm of the Tambourine,” but if we’re being honest I think it was just for the sake of the contrast to Frollo’s line “She dances like the Devil himself” when Phœbus meets her and talks to her, he begins to fall in love with the real her, the one who is trading witty remarks with him and also fiercely defending herself, her principles, her people, and Quasimodo, whom she’s just met maybe fifteen minutes ago. And her curiosity about this soldier whom she senses is not an orders-following machine but has a strong moral compass and who really listens to what she has to say turns to love while she has time to think about it, and they both act on it in “Tavern Song,” when they have a witty conversation that masks their true feelings but they’re each testing the waters to see if the other feels the way they do and when each has confirmed it, they kiss and it’s actually great.

Esmeralda loves both Phœbus and Quasimodo--she loves Phœbus romantically, which is arguably what he needed (since I sense that his “Rest and Recreation” self was a bit of a front and he needed someone to see past that), and she loves Quasimodo platonically, which is certainly what he needed--and let’s be real, Esmeralda needed both. It’s established that she loses friends quickly, probably because of how determined she is to right the wrongs she sees, so for both Phœbus and Quasimodo to admire that trait and to admire her is wonderful, because it opens doors for Esmeralda that were probably closed for quite some time. (Which sounds opportunistic and calculating when I write it down, but I think it’s true, and I’m not using it to diminish the emotional value of these relationships--I’m just trying to figure things out.)

And we’ve already covered that the “friendzone” is a ridiculous concept, but the “dying friendzone”? When else was she going to tell Quasi that he was a good friend? She was just getting to know him for most of the show, and she was away from him for huge chunks of it, too--her last minutes, dying in Quasi’s arms, were her last chance to help Quasi understand that he wasn’t the monster he’d grown up being told he was (and I’d like to see you try to say more than six words when you’ve just been nearly burned at the stake and are dying from excessive smoke inhalation).

Please let me know if there’s anything you think I missed; there are several points here that I’m not 100% solid on, and I might have expressed any of this quite poorly, because I’m tired.

TL;DR: I’ve been stewing over a throwaway joke people made in Hunchback rehearsal for approximately Way Too Long and needed to put my thoughts down somewhere

#hunchback of notre dame #cali.txt #wall of text

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losvcr · 7 years ago

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rain (reddie) ch. 1

Type: Series

Summary: Richie and Eddie had dated each other for a long time, and things had been going great - or so, they thought. After Eddie comes home to an empty apartment and a note left behind, the loving relationship of four years tragically ended. Years of never speaking to each other later, the wedding of Beverly and Ben brings everyone back together, including Eddie and Richie. Hotel room mix-ups, drunken confessions, loud arguments between several losers, bad parties, old childhood games, memories, music, love, and drama ensues over the week of preparing for the wedding.

Pairing(s): Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly

Word count: 2.2k

Chapter Warnings: Your heart might hurt a little

A/N: I’ve written two one shots so far and people seem to like them, so I thought I’d try my hand at a full blown fic. I hope it takes off, because I have some great ideas for this. If you’d like to be updated with the tagging system on possible future chapters, just let me know! Oh, and the losers are around 27 years of age to help out a bit. There will be some stenbrough and benverly involved, but it’ll mostly center around reddie.

Also, big shout out to @r-u-reddie for being the beta of this fic. Without Rose, this shit would’ve been hella bad. She went the whole nine yards in being a beta, so she deserves major credit for this chapter and the next chapters to come. @reddie-asheck did a bit of beta-ing for the first half of the chapter, so they deserve a shout out as well!

One last thing before I shut my mouth - The song I listened to to get into the mood for tihs chapter is Happier by Ed Sheeran. Enjoy guys!

AO3 link coming in two weeks

Check out the new inspo tag here

“Richie, are you here?”

A trembling, but soft sigh sounded past the blue tinted lips of Eddie Kaspbrak as he closed the wooden door behind him, visibly wincing at the squeaking sounds of his sneakers as they collided with the hardwood floor beneath him.

It was raining. Hard. His previously dry jacket was now soaked to the point that his once-dry clothes took a heavy hit as well.

This caused Eddie’s body to tremble like an autumn leaf, but the immense relief he felt once walking into the warm apartment helped to curb the effect a bit.

“Richie? Did you fall asleep in my bed again?” Eddie called out once more, carefully removing his shoes before walking further inside of his small abode.

There wasn’t much to his apartment; it unfortunately lacked space. It contained one bedroom, one bathroom, and a kitchen/living room that shared the same area. In fact, the common area wasn’t too much bigger than his room, but that was fine to him. He had what he needed. Besides, living in New York meant that any decent apartment would cost a fortune.

He had done his best to make it his own by using subtle, but neat decorations to line his walls and inexpensive furniture in hopes of not making it too cluttered.

After grabbing a towel to dry himself off with, running it over his curls, Eddie walked over to his bedroom to see if his theory was correct. However, a deep frown began to settle on his face when he found both his bed and bedroom empty.

‘Where the hell is he?’ Eddie thought to himself, trying not to become worked up over his boyfriend’s absence.

The first thing he did was try to call Richie a few times once he got off of work. All of the calls went straight to voicemail, which made him a little nervous, but Eddie wasn’t too stressed about it. He knew that sometimes Richie forgot to charge his phone and tended to be irresponsible with handling it.

That was when he did the next best thing, and he checked Richie’s apartment, which was across town from his. His boyfriend’s apartment was slightly more spacious than his, but both of them still preferred to spend more time at his apartment because Richie’s apartment was always a wreck.

This too failed, but he knew he had one more destination to check on before beginning to worry, which was to go back to his own apartment. That, obviously, had failed, too.

Eddie honestly thought that Richie might have been over, given by that god awful smell of cigarette smoke that hit him once he walked inside. His apartment would only smell that way if Richie was over. But, alas, he could not find the curly-headed male anywhere.

“Fucking shit, Richie… now I have to go back out in this rain..” He grumbled to himself after changing out of his soaked work outfit into a fresh pair of jeans and a pastel polo shirt.

While changing, he had thought of one last place that his other half could be, and that was at the studio. Richie had been in a band since he was sixteen, and six years later, they were signed and had anticipated to have such an amazing sophomore album release that a headlining world tour could be on the table.

Eddie was so proud of how far Richie had come, but he still wanted to knock his head off for worrying him.

Even though Richie could be irresponsible, it was unlike him to leave Eddie wondering of his whereabouts. He was trying hard not to jump to the worst conclusions, but the unusual lack of communication had his mind racing: What if Richie got hurt? What if he was lying somewhere dying, breathing his very last breath all alone?

He quickly shook those thoughts from his head, releasing a shuddering breath. He couldn’t think like that. Richie had to be okay.

Walking through the living room, Eddie was moving towards the front door until he saw something on the side table next to his small loveseat. He knew his apartment, and that hadn’t been there before.

His brow furrowed once he stopped in front of the table, curious fingers reaching down to grab a white piece of paper sitting there, the bottom corner charred a brown, ugly color - Richie.

As his eyes read over what he identified as a letter, his grip tightened on the paper so much that his knuckles began to turn white. The paper began to shake along with his hands the longer his eyes scanned the contents of the letter, his stomach having completely bottomed out.

No. This was not happening. His eyes had to be deceiving him.

Once Eddie finished reading the entirety of the note, his hands finally released its hold, allowing the paper to fall as it gently floated back and forth until the floor took it.

His shaking hands remained raised in shock, tears burning in his eyes. He had been completely unaware of his hyperventilating until he found that he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking breathe.

He needed his inhaler. Fuck, where did he put his goddamn inhaler?

“Dear Eds,

How was work today? I hope it was okay. I know sometimes it’s rough for you at the children’s hospital, but I know you love it, Baby Boy.”

Eddie raced across the room to his bedroom (nearly tripping on his coffee table in the process), ripping his closet door open and rummaging through its contents.

He. Couldn’t. Breathe.

“I wanted to say this to you in person, but I knew the second I saw your beautiful eyes and that cute smile, I would be done for. I had to do it this way. I hope you understand.”

Tears streamed down Eddie’s cheeks as he tried to breathe, but the air would not fill his lungs and filter back out as CO2 like normal. He needed his inhaler. Pushing one box to the side, he quickly began to rummage through another.

“I have to leave. I can’t do this relationship anymore. Fuck, I know it’s gonna sound so cliche, but it’s not you. God, I swear to fuck it’s not you, Eds. You’re so fucking perfect. I loved you.”

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Eddie found his older inhaler. Frantically, the male pulled the cap off and pressed the opening to his lips. After inhaling the puffs of rather gross tasting water, he collapsed to the ground, sobs freely falling past his trembling lips. How could he go on after this?

“I hope you don’t hate me for this. If you do, I wouldn’t blame you. I left the key you gave me on the counter. Good luck, Eddie. I want your life to be filled with so much joy.

- Love, Richie”

Only one sentence kept repeating through Eddie’s brain as he sat on his bedroom floor, his sobbing having turned to gut-wrenching wailing.

I loved you.

—

Eddie stretched his arms out as he waited in the airport for Mike Hanlon, enjoying the beams of sunlight hitting his pale skin and the warm weather of Hawaii.

He had never been to Hawaii before, but he guessed that it was time to try something new.

In front of him, a tawny Honda CR-V pulled up. A giant smile graced Eddie’s features as he recognized the driver behind the wheel. However, he did not recognize the beautiful woman sitting next to the driver.

“Eddie! It’s so good to see you!”

The last time Eddie saw Mike Hanlon was over a year ago. It seemed like every time he saw the other male, he somehow looked as if he hadn’t aged a year. He looked great. Anyone who looked over him could tell that he liked to go to the gym, his muscles flexing behind the white tank top he wore as he moved in to hug Eddie.

Eddie easily returned the gesture, a small laugh falling past his lips at the feel of Mike’s full beard scratching and tickling the skin of his cheek. “Nice to see you too, Mikey. I feel like you get a least an inch taller every time I see you.” Eddie teased.

“Or maybe you’re just getting shorter, Eddie.” Mike joked back.

After they pulled back from the warm embrace, Mike stepped to the side to reveal the woman who had been in the passenger seat.

“This is my girlfriend, Whitney.” Up close, she looked much prettier than she did at a distance; freckled skin, the greenest eyes Eddie had ever witnessed in his life, hair darker than night, and a warm smile that made him understand immediately why Mike would like her.

Before he could speak up and introduce himself, she was talking. “Nice to meet you, Eddie. I heard great things about you.” He blinked in surprise when she pulled him into a hug, but after the shock subsided, he hesitantly returned the gesture, which made Mike laugh out loud.

“Come on, let’s get back to the hotel. The others are waiting for us!”

—

On the whole way to the hotel, Eddie worked himself up into a nervous bundle. He did his best to keep up with the small talk Mike and Whitney were throwing at him, but his mind wasn’t quite there. All he could think about was one thing.

One person, really.

He had been distracted with his thoughts all the way from getting out of the car to walking inside of the hotel. What snapped him out of it was hearing his name being called multiple times from the center of the hotel.

“You made it!”

Soon, he was being enveloped in more warm embraces from his friends that he hadn’t seen in quite a while.

First was Beverly, who was glowing like an angel as she grinned and pulled him in for a tight hug. Afterwards was Ben, his strong arms tugging him into a bear hug that had him playfully gasping out an ‘I can’t breathe!’

Stan Uris gave him a smile that he couldn’t help but return, a teasing handshake from Stan turning into hug.

By the time Bill was pulling him into a hug, Eddie was practically putty in his arms. He hadn’t realized just how much he actually missed his best friends.

“Congratulations, Bev and Ben!” Eddie exclaimed after pulling back from Bill, grinning at the two lovebirds who seemed to be attached at the hip.

“Thanks, Eddie! Did you have a good flight?” Bev asked curiously.

“Well, let’s see. A trip across the continental US with only one stop and extreme turbulence.” He paused, with a mischievous smile, “In other words, it was perfect.”

That brought about laughter, but once it died down, he suddenly remembered why he had been nervous in the first place. Richie.

His heart leapt up into his mouth at the thought, but before he could tentatively ask where the other male was, he was interrupted by a loud yell that had all of them turning to find the source.

“Get the hell away from my bar!”

“Sheesh, it was a joke. How about you laugh a little, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s heart leaped once again at that voice.

His voice.

His eyes finally found him, watching the giraffe of a man stumble his way over and laughing while the bartender behind the counter glared daggers at him.

Eddie’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he could physically feel the pulsing all the way in his right temple at the sight of his ex-lover. He felt like he could pass out any second.

The rest of the Losers seemed to grow quiet as Richie finally made it over, a martini glass perched in his hand.

“Some people don’t know how to take a joke, I’ll tell ya. It was like she was saying “beep, beep, Richie!” without–” Eddie felt his face light up once he finally made eye contact with the boy he hadn’t seen in over five years.

The first thing he noticed was his eyes. He could tell that Richie traded in his spectacles for contacts, even though he swore he would wear glasses forever just to be an outlier.

The second thing he noticed was Richie’s hair. The curls were just as he remembered - wild and untamed. Except, they were a bit longer than he remembered. Many people had told Richie that he needed a haircut, but Eddie liked his longer hair.

The third thing he noticed was the tattoos. Part of him was shocked by this new addition, but the other part wasn’t shocked by the nerdy themes that were etched permanently on Richie’s skin.

He watched Richie visibly swallow, before Richie finally spoke to him for the first time in five years.

“Oh, uh.. Hey, Eds.”

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jellojolteon · 7 years ago

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Hi! I know you get a lot of asks on the grey long Ay but I was curious about something. How are some of the main characters supposed to get Akumatized. Eg. Nino wanted Adrien to have a birthday party but that didn't happen because Gabe was being a jerk, or Alya when she got Akumatized because she wanted to find out LB secret identity. I know this might be too much to ask but I'll ask anyway. Could you make a master list of how the Champions were made in this AU? (pt. 1)

No, no worries! Every ask I get makes my day! In fact you made my dreams from last night come true by filling my inbox haha ;u;

So as a basic pretense, the champions still come about the same way; the folks who get made into Champions are still upset about something when Greyling reaches them, but it’s the handling thereafter that makes the difference between what Hawkmoth does and what Greyling does. I can still make a master list for you of people who have been akumatized up to S1 (sorry if I miss anyone lol), but there are only a handful of changes.

As for Chloe? An excellent question. I think it’s complicated because she’s still Adrien’s oldest friend and now she’s indirectly doing him a huge favor, but he is also much quicker to wake up to the bully she’d become since he see what she’s like when he “isn’t watching”.

Unfortunately for this end of the story I’m more interested in the interactions between the main three, so it’s likely that a lot of this, if I can get this big ol thing off the ground, won’t make the actual cut.

(See below cut- numbering is not indicative of order, but if order is important I’ll mention it. Also note that this may change in the final go, if I get there.)

1. Stoneheart - This is LB’s first fight against Tux and while the theory of it is the same, Greyling does not exist yet to bring Stoneheart to life. Marinette encourages Ivan much the same way as she does in canon and he and Mylene still get together.

2. Stormy Weather - We’ll go with this one as Greyling’s first Champion. Aurore loses the weathergirl competition, but Adrien tells her that if it’s recognition she’s looking for, he might be able to help. Help he does.

3. Mister Pigeon - Ramier gets chastised by the police for feeding the pigeons. Adrien consoles him (somewhat regrettably considering his allergy) and tells him that pigeons are not inherently bad, and that a good way to show how honorable and invaluable pigeons can be might be for Ramier to help enlist them to fight Tux. This champion marks the beginning of Mari’s internship.

4. Lady Wifi - Alya snoops in Chloe’s locker, she pitches a fit, gets suspended. Greyling comes to her explaining that he knows her intent was innocent, and that if she really wants to show everyone she’s the bigger person, perhaps she can help him fight Tux today. Alya is of course like “oh fuck, I’m communing with my homegirl’s crush” and wholeheartedly agrees. Things look dire, and hers is the first instance of possession we see. I’m going to (unoriginally) henceforth call this special “ability” the Butterfly Effect.

5. The Bubbler - Mari introduces Adrien to Nino and Alya via video chat. Adrien is super excited to have friends and both Nino and Alya want to meet him. Adrien’s birthday is soon and Nino suggests a party. Gabe never yells at him directly but Nino finds out from Adrien that it’s a no and gets upset on Adrien’s behalf. Greyling suggests later, when Tux attacks, that it’s no birthday but hoo boy would Adrien think it great if Nino helped fight one particularly nasty adult. It might help get all those negative vibes out.

6. Copycat - This one might ultimately not happen in the AU, just because the pretense is so intertwined with the canon dynamics.

7. Kung Food - This is the first time LB witnesses and must repair a cataclysm death. Mari is lucky that her Uncle is in town to help her through the experience. Greyling reasons with Kung Food in Chinese (which is much better pronounced than in the show) that the cooking competition isn’t the end of the world, and that he’ll help him get another chance to prove himself in a fair environment.

8. Darkblade - not sure where this one falls, but when D’Argencourt loses the mayoral election, Greyling explains that maybe he can help show Paris true nobility by standing up to another person who has usurped the peace.

9. Vanisher - Greyling catches Sabrina at a low point when Chloe is snubbing her. He points out that there are many many unsung heroes throughout history but if it would help her, he might be able to arrange something that would get her recognized in the form of assisting LB.

10. Antibug - Here’s a fun one! This one doesn’t go super hot but I think this is where Chloe develops a little bit. Greyling tells Chloe that if she really wants to make a good impression on LB, maybe getting in the way isn’t the answer. But what if she was a champion instead? Chloe is too bitter to be working alongside LB at the moment, but things eventually turn out ok, even if it involves Tux getting the upper hand for a bit there.

11. Horrificator - Mylene is scared and Greyling explains that sometimes it takes some help to face your fears. I’ll help you face down the scariest monster in all of Paris, and I assure you that you’ll always be able to face your fears after that. This one is also a bit of a shaky one but it works out ok because as she grows bigger, Tux gets more frightened by her.

12. Timebreaker - another that I’m not sure happens? I feel like time travel is a bit of a slippery slope in this AU for some reason.

13. Princess Fragrance - After Chloe belittles Rose, Greyling compliments her heart and says that helping him fight tux might be a good way to prove Chloe wrong. (Aside: I can’t imagine a lot of these kids would normally have the sense to take down a murderer. But Ladybug hasn’t lost anyone yet and the trust they put in her to keep them safe is immense)

14. Reflekta - You might see that showing Chloe what a good person looks like is a pretty common thread here. Greyling gets good at convincing people that Chloe is wrong and that fighting Tux with the things she demeans about them is a great way to prove it. She slowly learns.

15. Evillustrator - Nath wants a date with Mari, and also for Chloe to Not. This one doesn’t go well.

16. The Puppeteer - This is where Greyling figures out that Tux is his dad. In his rage, he makes a very bad decision to send out Manon after Tux. Granted she’s not doing anything directly but still. Ladybug deadpans him a look through Puppeteer and he has an ‘oh shit’ moment. He pulls her out and goes for Simon Says instead.

17. Simon Says - Adrien isn’t quite ready to let go of his petty yet and this is just as much for himself as it is for Simon. Nooroo and Adrien have an important talk about choosing champions after this battle is over.

18. Heartbreaker - Much of the same spiel about proving Chloe wrong, though I don’t know how his powers could be of threat to Tux. Not sure if this one makes the cut.

19. Rogercop - After getting fired, Greyling hits Roger with the whole “If you really want to serve and protect, boy could I really use your help.” After Roger’s proven bravery against Tux, he regains his job. There are probably more long-winded effects of this in the au but I’ll have to get there before I figure it all out.

20. Animan - When Kim insults Otis’s prized panther, Greyling suggests that maybe a catfight is exactly the kind of shakeup Tux needs, and it would certainly prove Kim’s ridiculous comments wrong. As for Alya and Nino getting together? I can still see them getting locked in the exhibit for their own safety.

21. The Gamer - Mari and Adrien kick ass in a gamer tournament, and Max gets upset because he’s overthrown by someone he’s never even met. Adrien just has a lot of time to play video games when he’s shut in, y’know? But Adrien realizes he may have gone a little too hard and requests Max’s help defeating Tux. He fluffs Max’s confidence by pointing out what a skilled and analytical fighter he is. Ladybug could use someone like that (instead of someone who sits from afar… hm…) in her fights against Tux.

22. Guitar Hero (pffff oops) - “Hey Jagged Stone, you know what would absolutely skyrocket your popularity? Riding around Paris on a DRAGON while blasting a cat man with SOUND WAVES. Does that sound like some killer album art to you? It sure does to me. Also I’ll throw in glowy tentacle hair as a bonus, I’m a big fan of your work actually.”

23. Pixelator - Greyling says, “Hey, man, maybe let the guy have some space, y’know? Being famous is stressful. Here, if you really want to be like him though, help me fight this guy.” Please don’t ask me how that works Greyling just gets real good at his job at some point.

24. The Mime - Fred’s meddling understudy tricks him into missing a performance, but Greyling sees an opportunity for the most kickass show of Fred’s career. He’s not wrong.

25. The Pharaoh - unfortunately, another one I’m not sure happens? Remnants of this ep might be involved though, with Jalil helping LB uncover some of the history of the miraculouses. Looks like the Kubdels get off easy in this story haha

26. Volpina - Lila’s compulsive lying gets her into a sticky situation (probably actually not with LB tho) and Greyling tells her that maybe he can give her a true story about herself worth telling. Greyling has been itching to get out for a few attacks now and this is where he finally gets the opportunity to go out. He just has a bad feeling about things and goes out to check. As I mention in the comic about their first “meeting”, Greyling’s intuition is correct and he saves LB from a nasty head injury as she passes out on top of a building from a previous wound. This also incidentally marks, for the most part, the end of Greyling’s use of others to fight. He still brings a few out (maybe I’ll get to integrate some from S2?) but this pretty neatly ties up most of the pre-outside timeline.

Sorry this got so long, but thanks again for the ask, @randomstar365! I hope this is a satisfactory answer.

#greyling au #miraculous ladybug #jello gets an ask #long post #akumas

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paradisefovnd · 7 years ago

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MBTI FOR ALL MY MUSES

did the mbti quiz for all my muses bc i like to waste my time wheeeee!!!

ruth balakov - enfj (the protagonist)

“protagonists are genuine, caring people who talk the talk and walk the walk, and nothing makes them happier than leading the charge, uniting and motivating their team with infectious enthusiasm.”

DO I AGREE? she is textbook enfj

samir chaudhry - intp (the logician)

"logicians pride themselves on their inventiveness and creativity, their unique perspective and vigorous intellect.”

DO I AGREE? no!! that’s why his description is so short. he’s an ESTP through and through!!

tut mcmullen - isfp (the adventurer)

"adventurers live in a colorful, sensual world, inspired by connections with people and ideas. these personalities take joy in reinterpreting these connections, reinventing and experimenting with both themselves and new perspectives. no other type explores and experiments in this way more. this creates a sense of spontaneity, making adventurers seem unpredictable, even to their close friends and loved ones.”

DO I AGREE? yes, my soft lil tut

jughead jones - istp (the virtuoso)

"virtuosos’ decisions stem from a sense of practical realism, and at their heart is a strong sense of direct fairness, a “do unto others” attitude, which really helps to explain many of virtuosos’ puzzling traits. Instead of being overly cautious though, avoiding stepping on toes in order to avoid having their toes stepped on, virtuosos are likely to go too far, accepting likewise retaliation, good or bad, as fair play.”

DO I AGREE? eh i get strong ENTP vibes from juggie tbh

melody valentine - enfp (the campaigner)

"campaigners know how to relax, and they are perfectly capable of switching from a passionate, driven idealist in the workplace to that imaginative and enthusiastic free spirit on the dance floor, often with a suddenness that can surprise even their closest friends. being in the mix also gives them a chance to connect emotionally with others, giving them cherished insight into what motivates their friends and colleagues. they believe that everyone should take the time to recognize and express their feelings, and their empathy and sociability make that a natural conversation topic.”

DO I AGREE? yes my sweet child

mark darcy - istj (the logistician)

"this sense of personal integrity is core to logisticians, and goes beyond their own minds – logistician personalities adhere to established rules and guidelines regardless of cost, reporting their own mistakes and telling the truth even when the consequences for doing so could be disastrous. to logisticians, honesty is far more important than emotional considerations, and their blunt approach leaves others with the false impression that logisticians are cold, or even robotic. people with this type may struggle to express emotion or affection outwardly, but the suggestion that they don’t feel, or worse have no personality at all, is deeply hurtful..”

DO I AGREE? um hell yes? did u read the description

greg serrano - intp (the logician)

"they love patterns, and spotting discrepancies between statements could almost be described as a hobby, making it a bad idea to lie to a logician. this makes it ironic that logicians’ word should always be taken with a grain of salt – it’s not that they are dishonest, but people with the logician personality type tend to share thoughts that are not fully developed, using others as a sounding board for ideas and theories in a debate against themselves rather than as actual conversation partners.”

DO I AGREE? i personally think he’s an INTJ

johnny castle - isfp (the adventurer)

“beneath adventurers’ quiet shyness beats an intensely feeling heart. when people with this personality type are caught up in something exciting and interesting, they can leave everything else in the dust.”

DO I AGREE? yes my bb <3

blair warner - estj (the executive)

“executives are aware of their surroundings and live in a world of clear, verifiable facts – the surety of their knowledge means that even against heavy resistance, they stick to their principles and push an unclouded vision of what is and is not acceptable. their opinions aren’t just empty talk either, as executives are more than willing to dive into the most challenging projects, improving action plans and sorting details along the way, making even the most complicated tasks seem easy and approachable.”

DO I AGREE? hell yes

jo polniaczek - isfp (the adventurer)

“there’s also a sense of practicality to adventurers’ unpredictability – if anyone is going to cancel a planned trip to stay home with a partner who suddenly got the flu as a gesture of affection, it is adventurer personalities. spending time with their partners is something adventurers really enjoy, and they want their partners to know that they are cared for and special.”

DO I AGREE? there’s a part of me that could also see her as isfj, but i think isfp fits

emily gilmore - estj (the executive)

“executives are representatives of tradition and order, utilizing their understanding of what is right, wrong and socially acceptable to bring families and communities together. embracing the values of honesty, dedication and dignity, people with the executive personality type are valued for their clear advice and guidance, and they happily lead the way on difficult paths. ”

DO I AGREE? i think for most of the show, this suits her. revival emily undergoes a transformation though, although who’s to say estj’s can’t have epiphanies?

meredith quill - enfp (the campaigner)

“as they observe, forming new connections and ideas, campaigners won’t hold their tongues – they’re excited about their findings, and share them with anyone who’ll listen. this infectious enthusiasm has the dual benefit of giving campaigners a chance to make more social connections, and of giving them a new source of information and experience, as they fit their new friends’ opinions into their existing ideas.”

DO I AGREE? this baby was born to be enfp

alice longbottom - infj (the advocate)

“advocates indeed share a unique combination of traits: though soft-spoken, they have very strong opinions and will fight tirelessly for an idea they believe in. they are decisive and strong-willed, but will rarely use that energy for personal gain – advocates will act with creativity, imagination, conviction and sensitivity not to create advantage, but to create balance. egalitarianism and karma are very attractive ideas to advocates, and they tend to believe that nothing would help the world so much as using love and compassion to soften the hearts of tyrants.”

DO I AGREE? 100000 TIMES YES

arthur weasley - enfp (the campaigner)

“when it comes to new ideas, campaigners aren’t interested in brooding – they want to go out and experience things, and don’t hesitate to step out of their comfort zones to do so. campaigners are imaginative and open-minded, seeing all things as part of a big, mysterious puzzle called life.”

DO I AGREE? i could also see him as enfj, but i think this is pretty fitting

victoire weasley - entp (the debator)

“treating others as they’d be treated, debaters have little tolerance for being coddled, and dislike when people beat around the bush, especially when asking a favor. debater personalities find themselves respected for their vision, confidence, knowledge, and keen sense of humor, but often struggle to utilize these qualities as the basis for deeper friendships and romantic relationships.”

DO I AGREE? yes

helga g. pataki - entp (the debator)

“people with the debater personality type have a way with words and wit that others find intriguing. their confidence, quick thought and ability to connect disparate ideas in novel ways create a style of communication that is charming, even entertaining, and informative at the same time.”

DO I AGREE? i’ve always thought of her as ENTJ

effie trinket- esfj (the consul)

“supportive and outgoing, consuls can always be spotted at a party – they’re the ones finding time to chat and laugh with everyone! but their devotion goes further than just breezing through because they have to. consuls truly enjoy hearing about their friends’ relationships and activities, remembering little details and always standing ready to talk things out with warmth and sensitivity. If things aren’t going right, or there’s tension in the room, consuls pick up on it and to try to restore harmony and stability to the group.”

DO I AGREE? YES!!!

katniss everdeen - istp (the virtuoso)

“virtuosos have a particular difficulty in predicting emotions, but this is just a natural extension of their fairness, given how difficult it is to gauge virtuosos’ emotions and motivations. however, their tendency to explore their relationships through their actions rather than through empathy can lead to some very frustrating situations. people with the virtuoso personality type struggle with boundaries and guidelines, preferring the freedom to move about and color outside the lines if they need to.”

DO I AGREE? yes, although i could see her being a couple others too

jane villaneuva - isfj (the defender)

“defender personalities are often meticulous to the point of perfectionism, and though they procrastinate, they can always be relied on to get the job done on time. defenders take their responsibilities personally, consistently going above and beyond, doing everything they can to exceed expectations and delight others, at work and at home.”

DO I AGREE? yes yes yes!!!!

michael cordero - isfj (the defender)

“defender personalities are a wonderful group, rarely sitting idle while a worthy cause remains unfinished. defenders’ ability to connect with others on an intimate level is unrivaled among Introverts, and the joy they experience in using those connections to maintain a supportive, happy family is a gift for everyone involved. they may never be truly comfortable in the spotlight, and may feel guilty taking due credit for team efforts, but if they can ensure that their efforts are recognized, defenders are likely to feel a level of satisfaction in what they do that many other personality types can only dream of.”

DO I AGREE? i can see it. i think it’s interesting that he and jane got the same, and i can definitely see it because both of them are deeply dedicated individuals who would do anything for those they love, and thEYRE ALSO SOULMATES

rogelio de la vega - enfp (the campaginer)

“campaigners are very sensitive, and care deeply about others’ feelings. a consequence of their popularity is that others often look to them for guidance and help, which takes time, and it’s easy to see why campaigners sometimes get overwhelmed, especially when they can’t say yes to every request.”

DO I AGREE? no. rogelio is a textbook ESFP

elle woods - esfj (the consul)

“being as altruistic as they are, consuls find it hard to be satisfied unless they know they’ve done something valuable for another person. this is often the driving force behind consuls’ careers and career advancement.”

DO I AGREE? nah, i think elle is ENFJ

ryan atwood - isfp (the adventurer)

“adventurers easily relate to others’ emotions, helping them to establish harmony and good will, and minimize conflict.”

DO I AGREE? mostly.

pam beesly - isfj (the defender)

“defenders are very imaginative, and use this quality as an accessory to empathy, observing others’ emotional states and seeing things from their perspective. with their feet firmly planted on the ground, it is a very practical imagination, though they do find things quite fascinating and inspiring.”

DO I AGREE? i can see it, i can also see ISFP tho

fitzwilliam darcy - istj (the logistician)

he and mark are the same bc they’re essentially the same personsdfljs

DO I AGREE? yes

queen clarisse renaldi - esfj (the consul)

"consuls are altruists, and they take seriously their responsibility to help and to do the right thing. unlike their diplomat relatives however, people with the consul personality type will base their moral compass on established traditions and laws, upholding authority and rules, rather than drawing their morality from philosophy or mysticism.”

DO I AGREE? i’m on the fence. i could also see her being INFP

capheus onyango - esfj (the consul)

"helping to ensure stability, consul personalities seek harmony and care deeply about other people’s feelings, being careful not to offend or hurt anybody. consuls are strong team players, and win-win situations are the stuff smiles are made of.”

DO I AGREE? i can see it

princess fiona - entp (the debator)

“debaters’ intelligence, curiosity and sound reasoning skills are a force to be reckoned with. debaters will always be able to find just the right argument, the weakest chink in their opponent’s armor, or the way out of a seemingly hopeless situation.”

DO I AGREE? hell yes

charles brooks - istj (the logistician)

“their defining characteristics of integrity, practical logic and tireless dedication to duty make logisticians a vital core to many families, as well as organizations that uphold traditions, rules and standards, such as law offices, regulatory bodies and military. people with the logistician personality type enjoy taking responsibility for their actions, and take pride in the work they do – when working towards a goal, logisticians hold back none of their time and energy completing each relevant task with accuracy and patience.”

DO I AGREE? he is a darcy in brooks clothing so yeah pm

josh - enfp (the campaigner)

"all this adaptability and spontaneity comes together to form a person who is approachable, interesting and exciting, with a cooperative and altruistic spirit and friendly, empathetic disposition. campaigners get along with pretty much everyone, and their circles of friends stretch far and wide.”

DO I AGREE? for the most part, i do

#i need to make new icons for some ppl #u can still see my old psd on some of them bc i was too lazy to make new ones #i didnt use icons for my hp and hunger games muses bc i still need to solidify their fcs #can u believe i have the same personality type as jughead and katniss #( musings. )

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readingraebow · 6 years ago

Photo

The Hate U Give Section Two

Chapters 10-17

1. How does Starr’s dad explain “The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everyone”? He says that drugs come from somewhere and they're destroying their community. There are people like Brenda, Khalil's mom, who think they need drugs to survive but to get a job, they have to get clean and to go to rehab to get clean, they need a job. And then there are people like Khalil who sell drugs out of necessity because it's harder for them to find a job but they need money for their family so they have to do something. But when the people like Khalil get arrested for selling, they either spend their life in prison or they have a hard time getting a job and go back to selling drugs. So that's the hate they're giving: the entire system is designed against them.

2. Who comes into the store and ends up getting hired by Big Mav? Why does Mav relate to this person? DeVante comes to the store and he's hanging around so finally Maverick and Starr ask who he's hiding from and he admits that he's hiding from King. King wants him to kill the guys who killed DeVante's brother at the same party that Khalil was killed leaving. But DeVante doesn't really want to be a King Lord. So he asks Big Mav how he got out. Big Mav says that he went to prison for King and, in exchange, King let him out. But DeVante doesn't really have that option? So Big Mav says that he'll help DeVante figure it out. So he gives him a job at the store and takes him home until he figures out what to do with him and how to help him get out. Because Big Mav realized that the gang life wasn't worth dying for, especially after he had children. And DeVante expresses that same sentiment.

3. What happens to Mr. Lewis? What changes does DeVante have to make to his living situation because of it? A bunch of King Lords (5?) show up and wrestle Mr. Lewis to the ground and when they're holding him down, King comes in and attacks him. I think he just cuts him but it's not that bad because Lisa says he doesn't even need stitches. They tell him that he got off light because King could've killed him. But Mr. Lewis says they don't want him. It's DeVante that they're looking for. That's when Maverick discovers that DeVante stole money from King, to get his family out of there and to safety, and that's the real reason why he's running from King. And King now knows that Maverick is helping DeVante so that means they have to move him. They take him to stay with Uncle Carlos who gives DeVante a whole list of house rules, including no guns and no cursing.

4. What do we find out was Khalil’s actual involvement with the King Lords? Why was he selling drugs? It turns out that Khalil wasn't actually a King Lord. King asked him to join and Khalil refused, which doesn't happen, so all of King's insinuations that Khalil was a King Lord were just King's way of saving face. What actually happened was Brenda, Khalil's mom, stole some stuff from King and he was looking for her so Khalil stepped in to try to save her. He was selling drugs for King to pay back her debt. He didn't want to do it but he was trying to save his mom and he planned to stop selling as soon as her debt was paid. Soooo. If she knew, that also explains her reaction to his death. That was probably a double dose of guilt.

5. Starr said her daddy named her Starr because she was the light in all the darkness. Is there a reason behind why you were named what you are? Literally a terrible reason. My parents wanted something short and easy to spell (because apparently they thought I'd be stupid my whole life and could never learn to spell my own name???? Why would you base your decision for name I'll have my ENTIRE life on a five year old learning to spell????? I don't get it?????) and something that no one could shorten because they don't like nicknames (but I love nicknames so that annoys me????). And their other choice was Dawn but my Dad didn't want to name me after a season. And I literally hate my name so I think all of these reasons are terrible. *sigh*

6. How did the interview with Diane Carey go? Well, uh, Starr definitely did some snitching. She explained why Khalil had sold drugs and basically snitched on King without actually saying King's name. So anyone from their neighborhood will know exactly what she's talking about but the wider community won't. But, other than that, I thought it was a really great interview and Starr definitely explained herself and defended Khalil really well. She came off as a credible witness and I think the interview will gain a lot of traction. Unfortunately, what I don't think it will do is anything to the officer who shot Khalil. And that's what I really wish it would do....

7. When asked what Starr would say to One Fifteen if he were here right now, what does she reply? What she'd really do is straight up punch him because she doesn't forgive him. But she knows she can't say that. So, instead, she says "I'd ask him if he wished he shot me too."

8. Why do Chris and Starr get in a fight at prom? How does the night end? Starr's interview aired and even though they didn't show her face, Chris recognized her voice. So he's mad that she didn't trust him enough to tell him that she's the witness everyone was talking about. He also didn't know anything about Khalil and, in the interview, Starr said Khalil was her best friend. Chris says that Starr has said that he's the only person she can really be herself around but she kept something pretty big from him and they've been dating for a year. So she realized that maybe she hasn't really trusted him as much as she thought she did and she tells him about Natasha. The night ends with them going back to prom and Chris goes up to the DJ and raps the Fresh Prince theme song for her. Then they take a group with them to IHOP and they order pancakes and play songs on the jukebox and Starr says it's one of the best nights of her life.

Section Two Reading Journal

So, I am honestly loving this book so much. Though I have also never! been! so! angry! while! reading!! Especially during the interview with One-Fifteen’s dad. I was reading it in the same room where Dalton was playing a video game and apparently I kept making sounds because he kept looking at me concerned and finally asked me what happened and I angrily ranted about it for, like, ten minutes. Because what was that interview???? And Hailey’s reaction to it???? I can’t even???? Y’all need a serious reality check.

But I’m very pleased with everything Starr did in this section and I’m super happy about her interview. I can’t wait to see what happens in the next section since, from the gifs I’ve been seeing, it looks like she’s really going to go to bat for Khalil. And that makes me so happy.

So. I’m loving this book and I can’t wait to finish it! I’m absolutely flying through it and loving it!! I’m so glad we decided to read this book!!! (Thanks Beth!!!)

#trcbooks #2015: the hate u give #2015 reading challenge

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ponyregrets · 8 years ago

Note

ur asking for smut prompts so: have u written a sex pollen one yet hearts thank friend u rock

oops I meant to get more of these done but I was v distracted and now it’s bed time so I’ll put this up on AO3 tomorrow and ideally do some more of these

standard sex pollen fic disclaimer: Bellamy is under the influence of a logistically and evolutionarily incoherent plant and needs to have sex with someone and everyone is having trouble communicating about what they want and why they want it. Spoilers they are in love but don’t have sex with people who are under the influence of mind-altering substances irl

"From an evolutionary standpoint, this makes no sense," Clarke mutters.

Bellamy is on his back on his bed with one arm over his face, breathing in and out, trying to focus on anything but his dick. He assumes Clarke is also trying not to focus on his dick, which is why she's talking about the logic behind it. The less everyone is thinking about his dick, the better.

"Why does a plant care if you're getting laid?" she goes on.

"I don't think it cares about me personally."

"You know what I mean. What's the plant getting out of this?"

"The satisfaction of a job well done." He huffs. He's so fucking hard. "Did you have a plan or are you just here to commiserate? I was just going to quarantine myself until it wore off."

There's a pause, and he thinks about opening his eyes, but then he'd see Clarke. And just the thought of Clarke is overwhelming right now, let alone the sight of her.

As stupid decisions in his life go, this one shouldn't have been a big deal. He was out gathering herbs, and he's not great with herbs, but Clarke draws him what he's looking for, and he generally finds it in the end. And he found it this time too, he just stumbled through another plant first, and got covered in some weird--plant shit. Pollen of some kind. And he started feeling hot and gross and assumed he was allergic to it, so he went back to camp, took a shower, and when he still wasn't feeling better, went to consult Clarke, because she'd be pissed if he didn't mention it.

It was sheer luck that Luna was around, and that when he described the plant, she recognized it.

It was the opposite of luck that she said it would cause intense, painful arousal, and if he didn't get laid in a few hours, he'd maybe die. He's not totally clear on the logistics of that, but apparently uncontrollable lust is supposed to get involved at some point, and Luna seemed to think he needed to fuck someone, not just jerk off, which--Clarke might have had a point about evolutionary necessity here. Why the fuck does a radioactive plant care if he ejaculates in someone? That doesn't seem like any of his business.

"Clarke?" he prompts. Part of him wonders if she left, but--he thinks he'd know if she did. Even with his eyes closed, he feels like he knows exactly where he is. He can still smell her, which feels fucking creepy, but he's blaming the plant. It's absolutely the plant's fault. Nothing to do with Clarke.

"It's not going to wear off," she says, on a huff. "That's not how it works. You need to get laid."

"Yeah, I heard. How's the plant going to know if I get laid? Is it keeping tabs on me?"

"I asked Luna, she said it was--I don't know. Something about the interaction with brain chemistry. But you pretty clearly need something."

He cracks one eye open to look at her, and it's such a fucking bad idea. She's exactly where he thought she was, leaning against the desk in his room, looking warm and soft and beautiful.

And also stressed and worried, but that's to be expected. And his brain cares a lot less about that than it cares about how her breasts look in that top.

Fuck. She needs to get the fuck out of here.

"I've got it," he says, which is a lie.

"You'd rather die than get laid?"

"I'm not going to die. I feel fine."

She crosses her arms in a very distracting way. "Bellamy. Luna told me how this was going to go. She's the expert. And it's obviously--you're a mess."

"Thanks."

"Will you just have sex with me already?"

He shoots up, sitting on his bed and staring at her, which is a terrible idea, because he shouldn't look at her. All he wants to do is bend her over the desk and--

"What?" he asks.

"What?"

He swallows hard. "Why would I have sex with you?"

She rolls her eyes. "So you don't die."

It's the obvious answer, but it makes his stomach sink. "No."

"No?"

"I'm not going to ask you to--I can take care of it."

"You can't. How many times do I have to tell you--"

"I can find someone. I don't need you managing my sex life, Clarke."

He can see her throat bob when she swallows, and he has to close his eyes again. He can still see her behind his eyelids, can just imagine how her throat would look when he kissed her, the long line of it as he--

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"Look, I know I'm not your first choice, for this, but I'm the best choice. If you'd actually been finding someone while I was talking to Luna, you wouldn't have to, but you didn't, so you're stuck with me."

He opens his eyes again. The look in her eyes is just what he expected, all stubborn annoyance, the familiar exasperation that she thinks she's right and someone isn't listening to her. But--there's something else too, he thinks.

Or maybe he's just really, really fucking hoping.

And then she tugs her shirt off, and there's all this skin. Her breasts are spilling out of her bra, and there's still this strange nervousness in her eyes, and it's just--fuck, it's so fucked up.

Her hands go behind her back, going for the clasp of the bra, and he manages, "Clarke."

"You're supposed to be overcome with lust," she says, and rubs her face. "Fuck. Don't tell me you're that unattracted to me. Just lie back and think of--"

He crosses the room in three steps and kisses her. Which is one of those things he's pretty sure you don't have to do, when you're under the influence of weird plant shit. He doesn't want to kiss her any more than usual. He just wants to fuck her more than usual, and he really needs her to know how much he always wants all this stuff, right now.

Her mouth falls open on a gasp, which he takes advantage of, and he lifts her up onto the desk, sliding between her open legs. She wraps them around his waist, and the first press of his dick makes them both moan. The kiss breaks and they're suddenly staring at each other, wide-eyed. Her pupils are huge and dark, and when he wets his lips, she tracks the movement.

"That really wasn't the issue," he says, voice coming up rough, and he kisses her again, hard and frantic, and her fingers tangle in his hair. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he adds. "I can find someone else. But just if you don't want to. You're absolutely my first fucking choice."

Her laugh is a little shaky, and when she swallows again, he lets his mouth go down to her throat. He's going to lose his ability to think in about ten seconds; he's already distracted imagining being inside her, how she's going to feel. "I want to," she says, arching up against him, deliberate. "Can we finish this conversation when I'm sure you're not going to die of not getting laid?"

"Yeah," he manages, and drops his mouth down to her shoulder, tasting the sweat there. His entire brain is full of her, every nerve awake and alight with the knowledge of Clarke. Clarke in his arms, Clarke moaning at the slight scrape of his teeth, Clarke saying his name over and over, breathless and needy and--

"Bellamy."

He looks up, frowning a little. He'd gotten down to her breast, and he was just about to push her bra aside so he could really explore.

Her laugh is shaky. "Not that I'm not--this is great, but you need to fuck me. I'm never going to forgive you if you're too busy with foreplay and die. You can touch me as much as you want after."

While she's talking, he starts kissing her neck again, can't bear to stop, but he is actually paying attention to the conversation, mostly because it's about him getting to fuck her, and, god, he wants that. "Where do you want me?" he asks, biting down on her shoulder. "In the bed, or just--fuck, right here?"

"Right here," she says. Her fingers are fumbling with the fly of his pants. "As soon as possible, seriously."

"Don't worry," he assures her, helping her, shoving down pants and boxers all at once in his desperation to be naked and closer. "I'm not going to die without fucking you."

Her eyes slide down to his dick like she can't quite help it, and then her fingers are wrapping around him, testing and gentle and still enough to make him moan.

"This doesn't work if you're still wearing clothes," he murmurs, and he can hear her swallow.

"Yeah." She pushes his chest gently, just enough that she can slide off the desk, and then she's getting her own pants off, and her bra, and she's naked, and gorgeous, and just--Clarke.

"I can touch you as much as I want after?" he asks, eyes roving over her body.

Her neck colors a little. "Yeah."

"Cool. Then bed," he says, tugging off his own shirt just to be fair and tugging her back.

"Bellamy--"

"I know, I know. Now." He pushes her back onto the bed, lets himself kiss her again as he tests her with his fingers. She is wet, and she whimpers when he rubs her clit, and he really can't wait either, not when she's so warm and responsive under him, and he still can't believe he'll actually die if he doesn't do this, but it kind of feels that way.

"Fuck, I love you," he murmurs, and slides inside her.

For a second, it's like his entire brain goes white, and then the desperation of whatever happened really sets in. He's never needed to come so much in his life, and that includes the horrific teenage years where he felt like he was constantly erect and desperate. He needs this like he's never needed anything else, and he barely has the presence of mind to ask, "Good?" and hear her affirmative response before he's thrusting, hard and hot and desperate. Clarke gasps and arches against him, her mouth dropping open, and he manages to get his hand under her ass, changing his angle slightly until she's begging too.

He's pretty sure she doesn't come before he does, which hasn't been a problem for him for a long time, but he figures there are some extenuating circumstances. And she did want him to come as soon as possible.

The orgasm drains pretty much all the energy out of him, and he slumps half on top of her, feeling guilty with the small part of his brain that can still process emotions. He presses his lips against her shoulder, nuzzling in close.

"I owe you one," he murmurs. He's already half asleep, so he just wraps around her, holds her close. "As soon as I wake up, okay?"

Her laugh is soft, and her fingers tangle in his hair. "Don't worry about it."

When he wakes up, it's dark, and he has a slight headache, like he gets when he hasn't had enough water. The memories of the day are a little fuzzy, and he has no idea what woke him until he sees Clarke sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging on her shirt.

"Hey," he says, and she freezes.

"Sorry," she says. "I was trying not to wake you up."

"What time is it?"

"I don't know. Late? I should--I should get back." There's a pause, and she can see her squaring her shoulders. "Listen, I'm sorry if I--if I overstepped. I don't know what was going on for you, but Luna said it was kind of a lot, and it's hard to think straight, and I hope I didn't--"

His memories aren't so hazy that he doesn't remember the basics of what he said, or what he did, so he pushes himself up, drags himself over to sit next to her.

"I didn't say anything I didn't mean, Clarke."

She worries her lip. "You said you loved me."

"Yeah," he agrees. "And that I'd take care of you as soon as we woke up, so--" He clears his throat. "Your call. You don't have to leave." After what feels like a thousand years, she turns to look at him, and he gives her a crooked smile. "Seriously, I can do a lot better. Don't judge me on that. I was basically roofied."

It's the wrong thing to say. "Trust me, I know."

He wets his lips, slides closer. He's still naked, and she's still mostly naked, and he's pretty sure all he has to do is not fuck up the phrasing on this and she'll come back to bed.

"I love you," he settles on. "That wasn't--I probably wouldn't have said it, yeah. But I wanted to. I've been wanting to." He tucks a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "Come back to bed," he murmurs. "Please."

Instead, she surges forward and kisses him again, and he tugs her into his lap, sliding his hands up her back, kissing back with all the warmth and affection and love he can, until she's melting into him. He threads his hands in her hair, nips her bottom lip, wants to learn every sound she'll ever make.

"I love you too," she says, dropping her forehead onto his shoulder. "So--"

He lies back, pulling her on top of him, grinning. "So, you saved my life, and you didn't even get off."

"I had fun," she says, but there's a smile creeping onto her face.

"But I owe you, right?"

He slides his hand down between her legs, feels a soft thrill when he realizes she's still wet, or already wet again, and when she buries her her face against his neck, he grins.

"Yeah," he confirms, fingers working her clit as she makes soft, desperate sounds. "I really fucking owe you."

But he's good for it.

#Anonymous

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peachriffer · 8 years ago

Text

Review: Kendrick Lamar - Damn.

Strap in folks. We’re talking about Kendrick Lamar again... This is gonna be a long one.

It's official. Kendrick Lamar just went pop and this album has sent the music world into a frenzy. I've made a point of riding out the hype because of all the noise on twitter that came with it. I was extremely excited going into this thing too and wanted to make sure my true thoughts weren't guided by the internet's endless praise machine. I was listening to it though. Late thursday night I got a fresh tank of gas and spent the next hour riding out to it. I was instantly wowed.

The concept for this album comes in two parts. In the first part, death sneaks up on Kendrick. He's shot and, as he's dying, he spends his final moments believing he's been damned to Hell.

"Wicked or weakness?!" He cried in the music video for Humble. "You gotta see this." This is important because DAMN features Kendrick confessing to his many of his earthly sins and we’re the judge.

In the second part of this concept, (revealed to us on DNA) we learn more about how Kendrick has structured this record when he raps:

"Bitch, your hormones prolly switch inside your DNA. Problem is, all that sucker shit inside your DNA."

DNA, as we know, forms a chain and comes in two parts forming the double helix. Kendrick covered this ground already on TBAP with the tracks U and I. This duality also exists between the butterfly and the caterpillar. They are completely different yet one and the same, just like the different sides to Kendrick himself. He's a Gemini, who has two first names, and is rich despite being raised in a ghetto. A walking contradiction, an oxymoron just like King Kunta.

The "sucker shit" he's referring to are all the sad songs that weave this album together with all the bangers like... well... DNA. One always follows the other. They are two halves to the same whole.

On YAH, Kendrick throws away his blackness to follow Yahweh, a God only marginally different from his own Christian God.

"I'm a Israelite, don't call me black no mo'. That word is only a color, it ain't facts no mo."

This calls to mind, for me personally, how people kill in the name of religion despite the fact that all religions carry similar practices anyway. The Israelites are lord's chosen people while also being cursed on earth. Black and White, Christian and Jewish, Wickedness and Weakness. The value in these (seemingly) different attributes we assign others are really only worth what we choose. "You decide. Are we gonna live or die?"

Kendrick then proclaims on the very next song, ELEMENT.

"Cuz it’s all in your eyes. Most of y'all tell lies. Most of y'all don't fade. Most of y'all been advised last LP. I tried to lift the black artists but it's a difference between black artists and wack artists."

Here Kendrick is warring within himself over that "sucker shit" again. He refuses to fall into a what he now views as a vile mentality.

"They won't take me out my Element. Nah, take me out my Element. Damned if I do, if I don't (Yah) Goddamn us all if you won't (yahhh) Damn, damn, damn, it's a goddamn shame. You ain't frontline, get out the goddamn way."

On FEEL, he falls into the very mentality he wants to avoid... hard.

"The world is endin', I'm done pretendin' And fuck you if you get offended I feel like friends been overrated I feel like the family been fakin' I feel like the feelings are changin' Feel like my daughter compromised and jaded Feel like you wanna scrutinize how I made it Feel like I ain't feelin' you all Feel like removin' myself, no feelings involved I feel for you, I've been in the field for you It's real for you, right? Shit, I feel like- Ain't nobody prayin' for me"

It’s a mentality that’s just objectively not true but it’s one that we all fall into on our worst days. We watch the news, browse nonsense on twitter, chat with friends, go to work, go to school, and at the end of the day feel cheap. Like, even for all our hard-work, time, and effort, we gain nothing of value in the end. The mysterious it Kendrick is vying for will just remain in it’s same, fixed spot on the horizon, ready for him tomorrow when he ultimately gets up again to walk on that treadmill some more.

LOYALITY comes next and here, with the help of Rihanna, Kung Fu Kenny recognizes that he needs a safety net to rely on when times get tough. He meditates to make sure he’s, as Ri-Ri puts it, Loyal to himself in advance then goes on to drop one of my favorite lines on the record:

“Is it unconditional when the ‘Rari don’t start? Tell me when your loyality is comin’ from the heart.”

Or in other words, “When shit hit the fan, are you still a fan?”

On PRIDE, Kendrick knocks himself down a peg again. Maybe he’s trying to reconcile a conflict between Pride and Loyality. It reminds me, personally, of that scene in Pulp Fiction where Marseilles Wallace talks down to Butch because he’s demanding his Loyality. “FUCK PRIDE.” He shouts. “Remember... Pride only hurts, it never helps.” The second verse is my personal favorite:

“Now, in a perfect world, I probably won't be insensitive Cold as December but never remember what winter did I wouldn't blame you for mistakes I made or the bed I laid Seems like I point the finger just to make a point nowadays Smiles and cold stares, the temperature goes there Indigenous disposition, feel like we belong here I know the walls, they can listen, I wish they could talk back The hurt becomes repetition, the love almost lost that Sick venom in men and women overcome with pride A perfect world is never perfect, only filled with lies Promises are broken and more resentment come alive Race barriers make inferior of you and I See, in a perfect world, I'll choose faith over riches I'll choose work over bitches, I'll make schools out of prison I'll take all the religions and put 'em all in one service Just to tell 'em we ain't shit, but He's been perfect, world”

HUMBLE is anything but humble. It’s on an album with tracks written in all caps and reminds me of the way trump tries to put his points across. “I’m the humblest man in the world. You’ll never find anyone more humble than me. Trust me, folks.”

This song might serve to express another conflict Kendrick has with himself. He’s trying to be humble as a rapper and those two things rarely go together. Hip-hop is maybe the most bravado driven genre ever conceived.

On the other end of HUMBLE we have the disturbingly forthcoming LUST. Kendrick’s fame puts him in a position to take advantage of others, abusing his power over them like he did on These Walls. This calls to mind Trump’s famous scandal. “When you’re a star they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab ‘em by the pussy. You can do anything.” It’s a point K dot addresses with his second verse:

“We all woke up, tryna tune to the daily news Lookin' for confirmation, hopin' election wasn't true All of us worried, all of us buried, and our feeling's deep None of us married to his proposal, make us feel cheap Still and sad, distraught and mad, tell the neighbor 'bout it Bet they agree, parade the streets with your voice proudly Time passin', things change Revertin' back to our daily programs, stuck in our ways; Lust”

I love LOVE FT. ZACARI. It’s in many ways indebted to Drake’s “Hotline Bling” but the situation is just the opposite. Kendrick reminisces on the early days of his relationship with his, now fiancee, Whitney Alford. In contrast with LUST, it forms a flawless juxtaposition between a relationship that’s true and one that, because of Lust, is all yours. It’s most hopeful song on the entire album.

LOVE’s hopefulness then gets completely dashed by XXX. FT. U2. Here Kendrick acknowledges the great lengths he’ll go to in order to defend those he loves.

“He was lookin' for some closure Hopin' I could bring him closer To the spiritual, my spirit do no better, but I told him "I can't sugarcoat the answer for you, this is how I feel: If somebody kill my son, that mean somebody gettin' killed." Tell me what you do for love, loyalty, and passion of All the memories collected, moments you could never touch”

He later says “Alright kids, let’s talk about gun control.” like he’s an authority on keeping the peace. Kendrick knows he could easily be driven to do ridiculously heinous things too but still provides lip service to an issue. This conflict continues to persist despite Kendrick’s, now, long standing success and calls to mind Hillary Clinton, someone who tried to hide having a public and private position throughout the campaign last year.

This propels us into FEAR, a song that moved me to tears the first few times I heard it. On this goddamn masterpiece, we're guided through fear from three different stages of life.

"If I could smoke fear away, I'd roll that motherfucker up and then I'd take two puffs."

Presumably, one puff for U and another for I.

This song, to me, addresses the most painful aspect of fear: It's all yours. It's all specialized and unique on an individualized basis. Your fear, worries, and anxiety were specially designed within you on a personal level. It’s largely inseparable from who you are. The threats become less and less real as Kendrick ages, sure, but the feeling remains to haunt him. The final verse messed me up so hard because in the end it's revealed that Kendrick isn't talking about losing his wealth or his dad beating him or violence in his community. No. It's not that at all.

"I'm talkin' fear, fear of losin' creativity I'm talkin' fear, fear of missin' out on you and me I'm talkin' fear, fear of losin' loyalty from pride 'Cause my DNA won't let me involve in the light of God I'm talkin' fear, fear that my humbleness is gone I'm talkin' fear, fear that love ain't livin' here no more I'm talkin' fear, fear that it's wickedness or weakness Fear, whatever it is, both is distinctive Fear, what happens on Earth stays on Earth And I can't take these feelings with me So hopefully they disperse Within fourteen tracks, carried out over wax Searchin' for resolutions until somebody get back."

It's the real resolution to Kendrick's problems. On this verse, he finally bites back at this fear.

GOD gets back to Kendrick by gracing him with the ability to express these feelings on wax. His message has resonated with millions. Now he feels revived in knowing that whether he's Damned or not is totally out of his hands. Kendrick argues that this must be what God feels like while he’s working on his music but he never actually refers to himself as a "God". Kendrick knows his true nature. He’s a King, a man among the people. That's part of why the second album theory doesn't work. Kendrick ain't Jesus. He’s just like all of us, a mortal man.

DUCKWORTH drops some crazy shit on us. It's essentially Kendrick Lamar's origin story. Basically, It all sums up into a situation where Top Dawg, his mentor, could've killed his Dad. This would mean that Kendrick would've never been famous. Top would be in prison and that he'd grow up fatherless in Compton, California. These people are in his DNA though, now. Their choices were essential in producing the environment needed to turn Kendrick into a chart-topping success story.

Conclusion

And that's it. That's the album. It's impressive as hell. Although, I have a few problems with it.

The biggest is the production. It's good, even flawless on some songs but it's not consistent like on his previous two records. FEAR sounds so radically different from almost everything else and I might like it so much because it reminds me of Kendrick's earlier work.

Rihanna's vocals and the backing track on LOYALTY are real iffy. Sampling 24K Magic and putting Rihanna on a track this straightforward reads as a very naked shot for the pop charts. It works but feels somewhat dumbed down at the same time.

U2's appearance on XXX is acceptable. I really enjoy their almost insane inclusion but it kinda feels like a usable but deflated basketball. Sure, it works but it doesn't work as well as I want it too.

Luckily though, Kendrick is a flawless MC on this project. He provides so much substance on these tracks that I almost forget the actual music part of the music. He went pop. It's excellent too but, ultimately, it's not why I listen to Kendrick Lamar. I love this album. It arrived at a very appropriate time in my life. It's better lyrically than Good Kid, Maad City for me but it ain't got nothing on TBAP. On TBAP, Kendrick had the sound and the lyrics. Here, he has the lyrics. I hope he dominates the year with this stuff. Hell, It might finally win his ass album of the year at the Grammy’s this time around. I’m still salty at Taylor’s win with 1989 but it’s whatever.

Another great album by Kendrick Lamar though. Goddamn and God bless, Kung Fu Kenny.

Favorite Songs: FEAR, DNA, HUMBLE, FEEL, PRIDE, & LOVE

Least Favorite Song: LOYALTY FT RIHANNA

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#kendrick lamar #Kung Fu Kenny #Cornrow Kenny #Damn.#Album review #Hiphop #Rap #2017 #Archive

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