#and i’d love to be able to like. link it all in other conversations/discussions about the characters because its so like

[macdenlover]

i Will write a several page long detailed analysis about the role of order and democracy within in the gang’s dynamic and the strings of distorted logic and reasoning that glue them together i WILL write it i WILL WRITE IT (i’ve been saying this for years and i still haven’t done it)

[perseruna]

Endiness made a beautiful long post with all his quotes on that topic that I think is very informative and worth looking at, so here’s a link to that. And with that already discussed, I thought I’d make a thread of all his changes that we are aware of, because when you look into them, you find that none of his “book accurate” changes are actually book accurate. 

His decision to make Geralt grunt and cut his lines.

HC: "All the grunts, I either added or I didn't say anything and just grunted instead. It was often up to the other actors to go, 'I think he's not gonna say anything now.'"

JB: "Henry likes to cut his lines, 'cause he's lazy. No, he literally just likes to cut them. He likes to do more up here [frames his face with his hands] and just with face and hmms and grunts. There's a lot of hmms, and so I often have to take a lot of his lines and turn it into a lot of my stuff so that the plot happens."

So, as everyone who has read the books knows that Geralt is and always has been a yapper. Gerakt often talks or thinks in monologues, and definitely not in short grunts.

Of course when the audience started making fun of Geralt for not being able to speak in full sentences Henry promptly went back on admitting the blame and instead said that the big bad writers were the ones who didn't give him lines, and now it was his life’s mission to fight for a book accurate Geralt who speaks. 

Roach’s death scene

After S2 came out, Lauren received a lot of backlash for Roach’s death scene, with multiple sources citing that she wanted the moment to be more “comedic” before the brave Henry Cavill stepped in and refused to participate in such horrible anti source material activities.

LH: "Henry was so unhappy with the line. Finally I said, 'You know what, you come up with something. I trust you, you know this material so well, you know the book so well, you don't even have to pitch it to me.' And he came back the next day with a beautiful speech that's at the end of 'Sword of Destiny' when Geralt is facing death.”

This is the line he ended up using:

“Enjoy your last walk across the meadow and through the mist. Be not afraid of her for she is your friend."

This was Lauren’s response AND the original line.

LH: “Here's what was scripted, in homage of the fact that a previous Roach had existed, and another one will exist soon. It's hardly a joke. Henry wanted a longer, more emotional moment, which I was more than happy to give him. Don't create drama where none exists.”

So in S2 Geralt ends up quoting a part of his monologue from ‘Sword of Destiny’ when he’s at his lowest after thinking that Yennefer had died at the battle of Sodden Hill, and he has nothing left to live for. Which to me doesn't work that well with Roach at all. That line was a response to Geralt thinking he's lost the love of his life, not his horse. In my opinion, the original line Lauren penned out is more heartfelt and actually more emotional and more book accurate as well.

The absolute removal of any Triss and Geralt “romance”

This one we don’t have that much information on in comparison to others. But there were multiple reports that at the beginning of S2 Triss and Geralt were supposed to have some kind of a romantic scene with each other which then was cut during production, and it was largely speculated that it was due to Henry Cavill. 

“Several months ago we reported on a sex scene happening between Geralt and Triss, sometime in the first half of Season 2. That didn’t happen, as we all saw, but here’s what we know about the original plan for that: Geralt and Triss are in a room together, they seem friendly at first. They are playing some kind of weird game. Whoever wins a round, gets to ask a question. We’re not privy to the exact flow of the conversation, but it eventually leads to both of them ending up in bed. We can only guess why this was cut, but perhaps it was thanks to Henry Cavill.”

Now, irrelevantly on your feelings on book Triss and Geralt you have to admit that that short-lived “romance” is indeed a part of the books and therefor book accurate. So the removal of it would go against Mr I’m fighting to make this show as much book accurate as possible. 

The removal of the Yen and Geralt sex scene in S2

"We just wanted to be very careful that it was true and real, and it didn't turn into something that we, as actors, didn't believe it should be," Cavill stated. When Yennefer and Geralt unite, they embrace, but it doesn't go further than that. He continued: "We wanted it to be emotional rather than sexual. It was really, really important, and we had to lean away from what was originally on the page." Initially, Geralt and Yennefer were written to have a more passionate night. Henry Cavill and Anya Chalotra went to "The Witcher" producers and explained why they thought a steamy evening was not the way to go. "These are people who believe one thing about the fate of another and then find out something else is true," Cavill said about Geralt believing Yennefer was dead. "That's not how they behave," the actor added. "How they behave is they just want to be with the person and emotionally recognize their existence again in that shared space.”

This one is a bit tricky because I am willing to get behind an actor who doesn't want to do a sex scene out of comfort reasons or whatnot, but Henry saying that "That's not how [Yennefer and Geralt] behave”, is quite absurd in my opinion. Because that is very much how Geralt and Yennefer behave, especially in the short stories and ToC. They are inherently a very sexual couple who come crashing in and out of each other’s lives while having very passionate sex. But I can understand wanting this scene to be more “emotional” (as if sex isn't emotional), so this one I am willing to give him a bit more leeway on. (But then again looking at the blinds saying that he refused any sex scenes because oh his “ideals” and was allegedly really nasty to Anya about it, well..)

Geralt being the perfect father figure to Ciri with no flaws and no struggles (which inevitably snowballed into the Yen Betrayal Arc)

This one I don’t see talked that much at all, and to me this one is his most detrimental one. 

@LHissrich: “In interviews, Henry explains how he felt strongly that Geralt NOT be bumbling, nor a struggling father figure. In fact, a lot of S2 is about how Geralt does come from a loving (albeit unconventional) family. Henry was passionate about this shift, and we discussed it a lot, and ultimately thought it was wonderful for his character development. But it also had the domino effect of changing what Ciri needed from Yen when she entered the picture. Thus, introducing the idea of balance.”

So I don’t know about you, but I love when characters have flaws and naturally progress be it for good or bad, some would say that that's what story telling is about, well that someone wouldn't be Henry Cavil. Geralt being a struggling father figure at first, someone who makes mistakes and learns from them and tries is very much a prominent theme in Blood of Elves and is actually very real, people make mistakes! Especially in huge shifts such as “becoming a father overnight’ but we didn't get that because Henry refused to play it that way. What we got is Geralt who already basically knows exactly how to parent, he always knows what to say, what pep talk to give and also doesn't hold any resentment and any negative feelings towards Vesemir at all. It's all one dimensional happy family here! Which goes against not only the books but what he preached about fighting tooth and nail to make the “forgotten” male characters three-dimensional as well because the horrible feminist Lauren only thinks about female characters. 

Lauren then goes on saying that “it also had the domino effect of changing what Ciri needed from Yen when she entered the picture. Thus, introducing the idea of balance” So, it is fair to speculate that Henry’s refusal to showcase Geralt having any flaws at all and act book accurate snowballed into The Controversial Yennefer Betrayal Arc. 

These are the ones that I can remember off the top off my head, so there might be more, there’s probably more that we aren’t even aware of. I think putting them all together showcase a very interesting picture. One of Henry Cavill never actually understanding who Geralt fundamentally is as a character, and of him not being a team player at all. I just hope that more and more people are aware of the insane PR his team did for him when it came to this show, and that more people are able to see through it. 

[nerdnag]

Claude von Riegan: ENTP

“No matter how hard you look, you won’t see what I’m scheming.”

Described by both himself and others as a schemer, Claude is an energetic and highly motivated trickster who loves to test people’s limits, yet recognizes when it’s time to take a step back and apologize. In short, he ticks all the boxes for ENTP.

Full analysis under the cut!

DISCLAIMER: MBTI is not a scientific tool and should not be abused as one. My analysis is of a fictional character for fun only. Also: This analysis is just my own view and opinion, and I’d be really interested to hear other perspectives on the character!

DOMINANT: EXTRAVERTED INTUITION (Ne)

“Um, naturally, I have no immediate plans for this stuff! I suppose I just felt like broadening the ol’ horizons a bit. When devising schemes, it’s best to have as many options at your disposal as possible. Expanding those options is kind of a hobby for me.”

The ENTP thrives on different ideas and connections between them and will keep generating new ideas as long as there are plausible links between them. This is vividly clear in the quote above, but there are plenty more examples. Claude has a fascination for all kinds of mysteries and wants to solve them: He also tends to go off tangents in different directions: "By the way, they’ve discovered a new kind of poison mushroom. When you eat it, your body exudes a mysterious steam! Um, or so I hear…"

Dominant Ne also shows in his brilliant scheming abilities. He’s able to brainstorm various alternatives for how to tackle a problem, and can quickly come up with a new plan if the initial one fails. His intuition further helps him to pick up details and draw conclusions from them: “Never discount a wild hunch. Sometimes they're closer to the truth than you'd think.”

Furthermore, Claude enjoys debates and discussing his beliefs with others—even having those beliefs challenged. He never says no to input from others, which only broadens his horizons. This is also in line with Dominant Ne’s tendency to be open-minded. “Say... Mind if I pick your brain? What would you do in my shoes?”

He’s also good at keeping multiple ideas and plans in his mind at the same time, and at planning even for failure, as shown by Hubert’s comments after chapter 14 of Verdant Wind: “Ordinary fools run headlong into combat, without even considering the possibility of defeat. But to consider one's chances, and to prepare for plans to go awry—that takes real intelligence.”

He tends to come up with and use unconventional strategies, such as partnering up with the Almyrans—which many people in Fódlan see as ‘the enemy’—or developing poisons that don’t come into effect until two days after ingestion, so that the effect can be carefully planned to occur at the right time. According to himself, however, he can lose himself in his own mind at times: “Bah! I almost disappeared into the bottomless swamp that is my mind.”

AUXILIARY: INTROVERTED THINKING (Ti)

“Somehow I can't seem to stop thinking about you. It's almost like a crush. I have a crush on your secrets, sweet Flayn!”

The ENTP wants to understand things in a logical manner - and not for anyone else’s sake, only for their own. It doesn’t matter if the conclusion is in line with the general opinion, it just has to make sense for the ENTP. The ENTP creates their own legal system.

In several of his support conversations, he’s asking questions and listening intently to the other person’s responses, wanting to absorb their ideas and make connections between them on his own. His C Support with Ignatz starts with Claude simply watching Ignatz in silence, then when Ignatz notices and says he was thinking about the goddess, Claude says, “Fascinating! Please, go on.” Another example is his C Support with Marianne, where she runs away when he asks where she was born (after she’s said she was adopted). He stands there alone, saying to himself, “She's hiding something, that much is clear. But that just makes me all the more desperate to know her secrets!“ 

In his B+ Support with Byleth, Claude brings up the question of whether gods exist. He starts out by talking about how he’s never really believed in a god, because you can only really rely on yourself: “You can't win a war by leaving your fate in the hands of a god. Only tangible facts can really decide a war.” He then goes into a monologue about how there are facts that seem to weigh in favor of fate and maybe even some kind of god after all. It’s clear to me that he’s reasoning with himself about what to believe based on a collection of various different things (i.e., based on what Ne has given him).

In Claude’s C Support with Ignatz, Ignatz mentions how stories about the goddess always glorify her, at which Claude immediately suggests an explanation for it: “They probably hope to rake in more followers by glorifying the goddess as much as possible. That would be why the church tends to quietly shove all of their more questionable records under some secret rug somewhere.” This is Ne and Ti in action - not only does his brain instantly come up with a connection, it also leans heavily into his own personal logic (as mentioned in the previous paragraph).

It’s also important for him to confirm facts for himself rather than simply trusting another’s word for it: “Legends about the saints abound. It's hard to tell fact from fiction. I like to confirm whatever I can, with my own eyes, to find the truth in those legends.”

TERTIARY: EXTRAVERTED FEELING (Fe)

"I hope you don't feel like I used you… because I sort of used you."

After taking in all the different perspectives, details and facts with Ne, the ENTP runs it through their logic filter (Ti), then checks it against their empathy (Fe). This is how they understand other people. In Claude’s A Support with Hilda, he accuses her of fake-crying to make people think she’s a delicate flower. He confesses he realized it’s fake because his eyes often wander in her direction, and Hilda herself says that maybe it’s because he’s not so different himself, because he’s always fake-smiling. This, to me, shows that Claude analyzed what he saw Hilda do and compared it to himself in order to come to a conclusion.

The ENTP also tends to have somewhat of an interest in drawing emotional reactions out of people - possibly because they like analyzing people. This is prominent in Claude’s support conversations with Lysithea. He knows she is scared of ghosts and often uses that to make her tick. He also knows she hates being treated like a child, and… Well. “Still studying, are we? Isn't it past your bedtime? If you don't get your sleep, you're never going to grow big and strong! Now, come along, princess. Brush your teeth and get yourself ready for bed. I could read you a story, if that helps?”

But Fe also wants harmony, and in the end, the ENTP doesn’t really want to hurt other people or go too far. Remember what I wrote in the Ti portion about Claude’s C Support with Marianne, and how he wanted to figure her out? Well, that was his immediate impulse, but in the B Support, he apologizes to her: “Asking you about your family like that was pretty insensitive of me. No matter how curious I am, that's no way to treat someone. I'm sorry.” (After she’s said it’s alright, he promptly goes on to ask about her past again, however.) The Fe may not come easily to the ENTP, but it’s there - and for Claude, it’s clearly in the tertiary position.

I feel like I also have to mention the fact that the B+ Support with Byleth about gods (mentioned above under Ti) unlocks after… a certain special-someone to Byleth has died, making it seem like it’s Claude’s way of offering emotional support to Byleth by connecting it to his Ti: “Even in distant lands across the ocean or over the mountains… They have gods who see the world as a whole, who don't care about Fódlan's borders... Who don't meddle in our affairs. Who don't grant life or take it away. And maybe, sometimes, they'll make a miracle happen. A god like that... That's the sort of god I think I could believe in.”

INFERIOR: INTROVERTED SENSING (Si)

“If you let it rule you, Fódlan never changes. And if it doesn't change, it'll just fall apart.”

In many ways, Si is the opposite of Ne. Ne looks to future possibilities while Si looks to the past. However, the Si is part of where Claude’s ideals come from - his goal of uniting all of Fòdlan to begin with, and then the whole world. This goal stems from his upbringing and how he was always seen as an outsider: “Ever since I was a child, I’ve always been seen as…different from those around me. An outsider of sorts. I’ve been resented and hated.” He aims to destroy prejudice (and, as a result, people’s reasons to hate him) by ridding the world of boundaries; this is a kind of obsession for him that glimmers in the cracks of several of his support conversations, most noticeably those with Byleth.

Si can help Ne explore the future by learning from past experiences, and the ENTP tends to enjoy exploring historical meanings and implications: “This monastery is packed with a thousand years of history. (...) Those pillars, these walls, even the floor... They've all seen more than we can possibly imagine. Our distant ancestors may have walked these very halls. Doesn't that excite you?” We also see several examples where he dives into the history of Fódlan in order to understand the present and the future and make sure he doesn’t make the same mistakes as his predecessors. 

At the same time, Ne and Si can create an inner struggle between the past and the present, where the ENTP is in a tug-of-war between wanting to respect history and tradition, and changing things for the potential of a better future. One example of this can be seen in his B Support with Hilda in Three Hopes: “Is my way really the right path forward? It feels like I'm rejecting everything Leicester used to be up until now. Like I'm tearing something important away from the people who need it most.” Then in their A Support, he acknowledges that they don’t need to change *everything*, just the important parts: “[W]e've taken the Alliance in a brand new direction (...). Of course, not everything has to change, but the things that do need to get decided soon.”

Conclusion

ENTP is the MB type that makes the most sense for Claude in my opinion, seeing how he’s practically a machine gun of ideas and enjoys scheming and working things out for himself - with his feet still standing on a practical ground. Possibly he could also be an ENFP, which is a type I considered for him while writing this analysis; an argument could be made that his strong ideals indicate auxiliary Fi. However, the internal logic of auxiliary Ti coupled with the sometimes clumsy emotional intelligence of tertiary Fe seems more accurate to me in the end. 

Curious to hear what you think - and which character you’d most like to read about next!

[maxverstepponme]

i want to give my two cents if possible. this is more like a theory about kelly and the exposing account for the verstappen family so i’d like to know what you think about it. feel free to agree or disagree!! admin you can post this without making it anonymous, this account was made to share this theory and maybe others too! 

⚠️ english is not my first language but i will try to make my points as clear as possible ⚠️

on the documentary we saw the verstappen family eating together and having a nice time. sophie and jos seem to be past their issues (i’m not forgetting anything dw) so they are able to do these things, no matter if it’s for the sake of their children and the sake of their children only. 

the exposingtheverstappens account targets all the verstappens but max and seems to have a bigger problem with sophie. four of the nine posts that account has are about sophie. they accuse her of going for a mechanic, for flirting with christian and taking advantage of max.

where am i going with this? the #kellypiquetarmy and maybe kelly herself have been spreading “information” about the verstappen family allegedly treating kelly like shit when it’s suspected that something is going on. this already happened once, when their relationship was “allegedly” on the rocks. abril made a hate account for jos and later exposed her for playing dumb.

the key here is that she never defended jos or said there was no conflict to avoid more drama.

last time their main target was jos because he was the only family member we knew for sure didn’t like kelly, but now their main target is sophie. so what happened? it’s pretty clear the relationship between sophie, kelly and victoria is not the same no matter what they comment on each other’s posts after we discussed it and how many vacations they go on together. everything seems to have changed after the paparazzi pics and it would make sense. my daughter’s and grandchildren’s privacy could’ve been disrupted and my son was body shamed because his girlfriend is an attention whore.

this account also went for dilara, the ex everyone but the #kellypiquetarmy loves and the ex that still has a good relationship with the verstappens.

before this fake conversation was posted, that btrxdegroott account (same person behind the exposing account) replied to a comment Dilara made on sophie’s post. sophie then deleted the comment which angered the btrx account.

the account also tried to trash vic for having lip fillers and tried to shade maxverstxppen for posting jos.

this is not new but kelly and her army seem to have a vendetta against anyone who doesn’t idolize her the way her fans do, that is the typical behavior from a narcissist. they also idolize everyone that’s on kelly’s good graces, so my theory is that there is something going on with sophie and vic but mostly sophie since she’s the target right now. maybe it’s not as bad as them not being on speaking terms or something like that but maybe the relationship is slowly starting to deteriorate and this is a way to prepare for what’s coming. we know that if they break up she’ll play the victim so why not start now?

her not saying anything about this account directly links her to it. everyone knows she’s always with her phone in her hand and online, so i’m sure she saw it and i’m sure someone already said something to her about it. if she was against it, that account wouldn’t exist.

something i also find weird is that exposing accounts for her and gossip accounts that speak the truth about her get taken down in minutes but this account has been up for almost a month despite how many times people have reported it.

I’ve been saying this for weeks. If she was so against exposingtheverstappens, that account wouldn’t be up still. Her army has a degree on mass reporting.

[lyon-amore]

Mr and Mrs Liars Prologue Part 1

⚠️ ATTENTION ⚠️ This story will contain spoilers for chapter 10, do not read if it is not finished

(****************************************) Flashback

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*MC POV*  I was waiting in the center of the city, crowded with so many people and tourists, camouflaging myself in the crowd. I sit on a bench, waiting for Jake. We had agreed to meet here, because he would confuse anyone trying to find him.  I adjust the strap of my backpack where I have some change of clothes and enough money for a long trip. I take out my mobile reading the last conversation we had. It had been hard, but I had finally convinced him that I didn't mind giving up everything to be with him. The first person in a long time that had made me feel complete. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- MC What a day today 😫 Could I have a boss less asshole? The guy keeps wanting me to write an article about Hannah... When is he going to give up? It's already been two years! My answer will continue to be no! 😡  Jake MC, I've been thinking about it. And I feel like I can't take it anymore. MC ?! What?!What do you mean?!  Jake Wanting to be with you. What did you think? MC Um… Nothing in particular 😅​ And that change of mind?  Jake I don't know. I was looking at the photo we took the last time we saw each other and how the discussion we had went. And something in me made me sick of continuing to hurt you. MC Does it mean...  Jake The problem is that I don't want you to make that sacrifice for me. I'd hate it if you did it out of obligation. This is why I wanted to know your opinion.  MC Are you kidding me?Jake, if you had said it even the first day we met in person I would have said yes!  Jake :) Then you would like to live a life of wandering, without having a place to settle forever and live dangerously with me?  MC We have become very filmy, eh? Jake You are the one to blame. You have changed me too much. All I do is lose focus because you're not by my side. MC, I want to spend my life with you.Is everything alright?  MC Sorry, I was reading it like fourteen times in my head You are adorable, you know that? 🤭 Something tells me a certain person is blushing again 😊  Jake You will be able to check it soon. Link Here I leave the exact place for us to meet. MC All right  Jake But you can't tell anyone.  MC Not even my friends? Or your sisters? You know they have helped us whenever we wanted to see each other Besides, it's better that way, in case something happens  Jake If it's what you want and you feel safe, fine.But don't say anything to your co-workers. I don't really trust them.  MC I knowI don't trust them either, many of them are scavengers Except in Lian But I'm sure she would be mad if I told her 🙄 Jake That's up to you.  MC That's why I won't say anything Surely she would give me plenty of reasons not to do it  Jake But you wouldn't listen to her.  MC No! Because I already decided it a long time ago 😉 Jake I'll try to be at 2:00 p.m. If I entertain myself, at the latest at 2:10  MC It's not too late ten minutes 😄  Jake Ten minutes is everything for me. And more than I have to meet you.MC, things are going to change in your life. I hope you know and prepared. MC Always ready! But don't be late or I'll get mad Forever! Everything will be over And I'm not kidding, just so you know it  Jake All right, I won't be long. :) See you tomorrow.I love you MC.  MC I love you too Jake See you tomorrow 💖  Jake ;) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  I check the time. Only five minutes left until 2:10 p.m. I try to relax remembering the first time I saw him. How we met in person Two years ago… **************************************** When Hannah had been rescued, they called me to testify to the police to give the explanations that they had been waiting for so long. I told them that I was very scared and that's why I didn't want to contact Alan at first, just like I told him. Our chat conversation made him not really know who I was until we met face to face, he knew whose daughter I was, then he understood. Jake got in touch with me seven days after not hearing from him. I told him about three times that I was going to kill him for worrying me. He told me that he had trouble getting back out of the mine and had to use the ladder he had entered again. When he was going up, he did it so fast that when he put his foot in the ladder, he ended up breaking it and almost killing himself on the spot. Again, I ended up angry when he told me, or rather, concerned. If he really had died down there, I would have died with him in life. At least he fixed it by telling me that he would go to Duskwood to see me… Well, not only me. He wanted to come to Duskwood to see Hannah, but he couldn't risk it with the surveillance at the hospital entrance, so, with my friends, we devised a plan. The FBI was still looking for him in Duskwood and we wanted him to be safe.

When we went to the hospital to see Hannah, we focused on seeing when they went on break and when they changed shifts, texting each time it happened. We all collaborated so Jake could see his sisters, since Lilly wanted their first meeting to be all three of them together. Lilly and I got a text from Jake in our group, asking us for all the details. We leave nothing unchecked.  At first, the encounter was... how to describe it? Quite uncomfortable. I kept looking at him the whole time as we waited outside the psych ward, so I was like, 'Am I making him uncomfortable?' I noticed I even got a quick glance from him, but he quickly looked away, blushing. He made me think of those times that I would make him blush through the cell phone. I didn't know even in person it would have been so easy. His appearance was clearly that of a rather tired grown man, pale and obviously wearing black clothes, nothing flashy to avoid drawing attention. He didn't want to be reminded if someone looked at him.    "Do you want me to leave you alone?" Lilly asked, who was between us.    “No!” We exclaimed at the same time, embarrassed by her way of saying it.    "I'm fine like this" Jake answered, distantly.     With all we had talked about and he was cold. Yeah, it bothered me a little. When they called us, I decided to wait, refusing a change after a couple of minutes. They had a lot to talk about.  I talked to the group, telling them that Jake had already gone in to see Hannah.They obviously wanted to know what Jake was like. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jessy And..

How he looks? Dan Do you look like an addict?  Cleo Dan, for God's sake! Don't go too far!  Dan To spend so many hours on a computer, something must be inserted Or not?  MC It is…Normal  Thomas What do you mean by normal? MC Normal Well…Not normal At least not for me  Jessy I get it  Cleo Me too  Dan What do you understand? It has not been explained well  Cleo Things of the heart, Dan  Thomas She wants to say that it might be normal for us, but for her, he is attractive.  MC Thomas!  Dan OH! So like Hannah and youShe is the beauty and you are the beast  Thomas Thanks for your great explanation... Dan You're welcome 😎  Cleo Do you need to be picked up?  MC No, Lilly's taking us to the motel.  Jessy The conversation is getting more and more interesting  MC It so happens that Jake and I are staying in the same motel  But of course, things don't seem to be to shoot rockets...  Thomas You haven't talked?  MC Nope Completely ignored me And after everything we've been through...  Dan If he makes you feel bad, I'll go punch him 🤛🤛  MC If that helps him speak to me  Cleo Give him time, MC You just met for the first time  Jessy Surely he is more nervous to see you than you are to him  MC Well I don't know Because I only wanted to throw me into his arms when I saw him I had to control myself so as not to scare him  Thomas I understand you The same thing happened to me when I ran into Hannah But the doctors advised me that it was better to approach little by little You will see how in the end Jake decides to take the step  MC Thank you all For real 😊 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We talked for a while until Jake and Lilly came out. Lilly was crying and I couldn't help but comfort her in a hug. I looked at Jake's eyes, who were looking at us helplessly. They were red, as if he wanted to cry. I extended my hand without separating from his sister and took his, letting him know that I was there for him. He looked down at our hands and squeezed hard. It seemed like he didn't want to let go of me. He looked at me again and moved his lips forming the word 'Thank you'. I smiled at him, although it was sad to see the two of them like this. After the three of us calmed down, Lilly took us back to the motel. I was a little sorry to leave her in that state.     "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked concerned.     "Yeah, it's just the thrill of the three of us together," she replied, with a smile, then looked at Jake. "Do you want to meet tomorrow?"     "I don't know if-"     "Of course you can." I gave Jake a look, tilting my head slightly in his sister's direction, letting him know that he shouldn't leave so soon. "I'll handle it personally.”     "Okay" she laughed and looked at us both. "See you tomorrow. "     "See you tomorrow" we reply at the same time. When she left, we stood there for a long time. How difficult it was to speak face to face after so many texts.     "Thank you," Jake finally said, meeting my eyes, "for brokering for me."     "They need you right now," I crossed my arms, lips pouting "the least you can do is leave. Not yet."    "I know." He adjusted his backpack, a little uncomfortable with the situation. "Forgive me for my attitude towards you, I know my behavior is not proper.”     "Apologies accepted, 'Mr. Darcy,'" I sort of bow like they did in 'Pride and Prejudice' and manage to get a laugh out of him.     "Too formal?"     "A little" I laugh too. The atmosphere relaxes a bit and we already seem closer. I tried to listen to Thomas and Cleo and stay calm. What I didn't want him to know was that I really wanted to meet him at last. Inside of me, a maelstrom of emotions. I was embarrassed by all those things I had written to him. Talking to him in text had been easier.     "Would you like to-"     "Would you like to-"      Surprisingly we talk at the same time. The two of us seemed to have decided to speak to each other.     "I guess we have a lot to talk about." I was glad to know that he was determined to talk to me, I was afraid that in the end he wouldn't want to talk to me. "Would you like a coffee? I'll warn you though, the vending machine coffees aren't too great."     "I think I'll handle it" I nod and start to follow him. He handed me my cup. It was hot. We sat on a bench, in silence. I tried carefully not to knock over the fiery cup.     “Does it burn a lot?” he asks me, concerned.     "No, its fine" I lie. I didn't want him to worry about just one little cup of no importance.     "Wait." He set his glass down on the bench, careful not to knock it over. He then took off his gloves and offered them to me. I blinked a little, surprised. "Come on, put them on.”     "Thank you…”I put the gloves on. They were hot. I felt my face burn, suddenly any sense of cold disappeared.     “Better?”     “Yeah…”    "It's amazing everything you've done for me to meet my sister." He looked at his cup, with a wistful smile, my heart beating fast at the sight of him. "You still fascinate me even in person.”     "I wanted you to see her, you needed to see her after everything we'd done."     "But even in this I let you do the hard work." He turned to look at me and I noticed how his eyes shine in the dim light that the streetlight shone on the parking lot. “I don't know how I'm going to be able to thank you for all you've done.”      I bit my lip. Yes there was one thing.      I swallowed and steeled myself.     "You still owe me that dinner at a Chinese restaurant" I replied, with a small smile.     "Glad you remembered" he sighed with relief, "I didn't know what excuse to make so I could stay longer so I could spend time with you too."      I felt a flutter in my stomach. My whole body felt too light, like in a cloud. I couldn't see anything else around me except him. I had even stopped drinking just to focus on Jake.     "How could I forget?" I ask him rhetorically. "I was really surprised when you asked me if I liked it."     "I was quite surprised by your dream of me too."      Oh, no... He wouldn't dare... I look at him wide-eyed and blushing. It was something I said because I felt I had to say it when he told me he was interested! I didn't think he would remember after that! If not, he'd let it go despite… Well, with everything that happened, I didn't even think he'd remember.     "Not that it's a romantic place we're in right now." His words are calm. He no longer seems like the cold Jake I'd met that morning "And we haven't met under dreamy circumstances, but I'd like to grant your wish.”   “My wish?” I let out a nervous laugh, thinking about what I think he's thinking. He gently caresses my cheek, not saying a word. His hands are warm from the coffee, the aroma makes it seem homey. He approaches me, placing a hand on my waist. I sigh, not looking away. There was no one there at the time, just the two of us. Not a single sound disturbed us. He leaned slowly towards my face and I didn't even make a single move to push him away. I wanted it. I wanted that moment. That kiss was magical. I tried not to seem clumsy, it had been years since I had kissed a boy and one that really interested me so much. I tried to stop myself from letting out small sighs, but it was impossible. I hoped I didn't sound desperate about it.  In the end we slowly parted from lack of air. If I had known, I would have practiced holding the oxygen.   "Wow…" Jake says and any melancholy or sadness in his eyes had disappeared. "You were right, it was a nice thought."     "Oh, shut up." I bury my face in his hoodie, embarrassed. I hear close to me his laugh through my ear until it is stored in my brain. I couldn't forget that nice laugh.    "Now that I have you by my side, I can tell you better." I looked up into his eyes. They were so bright. "I love you, MC. "      My lips expanded so much that I thought the next day my face would hurt. This time I kissed him. Without breaking the hug.    "I love you too, Jake." **************************************** I return to Earth and look at my phone again. 3:30 p.m.     "He may have had a computer problem…" I try to convince myself, not thinking of something worse. That he would have backed down. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- MC Jake, where are you? Please answer me when you see the message Part 2

[tobi-smp]

hi !! i’m sorry if you’re sort of done with talking about the cc!techno lore discussion situation, but i wanted to weigh in, if that’s okay. (no pressure to respond !)

the whole thing sort of reminds me of this distinct disconnect i think audience members tend to see among [some] actors and their work - and i can tie this to my own personal experience of having been in varsity theatre in high school, and even to big-name movie stars.

for example, i was in a show called radium girls, and i was cast as this doctor character. i knew my scenes and my lines front-to-back - since that’s really important in giving a good performance - but when i wasn’t directly involved, i was backstage. as a result, if you were to ask me “hey, what’s the plot of radium girls?” i’d be able to give a brief synopsis based off of the parts i myself was directly involved in - but that would be the extent of it, y’know? my synopsis would definitely exclude a significant portion of the story - all of which is vital to understanding the other leads’ characters arcs, and the nuance of the plot itself.

we even see this from cast members of ultra-popular media, like marvel. you’re sort of like, “how could these actors be apart of endgame and not have a clue what’s even really going on?” - and the reality is, unless you make the conscious effort of becoming hands-on, and investing your time into becoming familiar work the material, you’re going to be a little out of the loop. (very sorry for rambling !!)

i think my point is definitely i believe cc!techno is entitled to his personal interpretation of the media he’s in ! especially considering he was involved in a lot of major overarching events. however, i just think he’s sort of viewing the story through one of those cardboard toilet-paper rolls, and he should probably re-examine it as a whole to get a better understanding. dsmp analysts do so much for the community - especially those on tumblr - and i’d love to see him connect with them more. you know, use that english major knowledge for good, rather than evil. (/j /lh)

while I certainly understand what you're saying here, and to an extent you aren't wrong, the problem is the Specific Context

1: technoblade was specifically engaging with the ways that the Audience interprets his character, trying to argue with the perception of him as a villain (or at least as villainous at the red festival), as well as point out several points common in discussion that he doesn’t like (such as the “age arguments,” which in context is the idea that his actions in the red festival were worse because the person he chose to kill was a teenager), which just isn’t the same thing as him having his own interpretation of the character based on his limited perspective.

to use your experience in theater as an example, it’d be as if you walked up to people discussing the play afterwards and argued with an audience member for criticizing your character’s actions and trying to explain why your character Couldn’t have been in the wrong based on the limited knowledge that you have. it’s not a productive conversation and nobody was asking for it.

2: not everything that technoblade said was his personal understanding of his character or his character's motivations. in fact the Majority of what he said was about Other Characters' actions, which becomes problematic both because he didn't have the context to understand those characters on a deeper level And because many of the things he said were just objectively wrong.

as an example: telling his audience that wilbur, tubbo, and tommy tried to kill him by withholding information about the plan is, an extremely bad take on its own. but it becomes worse when we have in stream evidence that tells us that wilbur Did tell techno what the plan was and what techno was supposed to do [Link], tommy's entire arc during pogtopia was about him Not wanting to blow l'manberg up, and neither tommy or tubbo had any reason to think that techno Didn't know (because wilbur had already told them that he was in on it), among other things.

he's not just wrong about the things that happened while he wasn't around, he's wrong about the things that he actively participated in and he's spreading that misinformation to his audience which already has a history of twisting canon to demonize the other characters and downplay the results of c!techno’s actions to absolve his character of guilt.

3: technoblade isn’t just an actor, he’s a writer. he has direct control over his own character, what arcs his character gets involved in, what his character does and says and when he does it. this is an improv roleplay and while there have been instances where there was an overhead writer organizing the events so they played out cohesively that’s long gone. technoblade’s understanding of the story affects how Everybody Else is able to tell their story around his character, which Matters when technoblade is involved in every major arc as of right now.

I talk about this more here [Link], but when tubbo wanted to dig into the consequences the red festival had on his character in more depth he put Quackity into the role as the person his character was angry at and wary of Because of the red festival, having his character absolve c!techno because quackity “forced him to do it” when quackity was openly begging for schlatt and techno to Stop and got hurt By Techno.

c!tubbo isn’t Allowed to explore his trauma From Technoblade because cc!techno isn’t willing to play along, isn’t willing to see his character as a villain or even as someone who made a Mistake. so the narrative had to Bend Around the obstacle that technoblade became in order to explore those feelings. which makes it all the more frustrating when techno apologists turn around and use that to further absolve c!techno of guilt by saying that c!tubbo forgave him and didn’t blame him.

it’s Detrimental to the storytelling of an Improv Roleplay when one of the improvisers refuses to play along.

required reading before you argue with this post: [Link]

[starshipsofstarlord]

Jealous

Pairing | Eric Northman x reader

Summary | bringing your partner to the bar seemed like a good idea in order to have a nice and relaxing night. However, he appears to become jealous as you speak to the owner of Merlottes.

Warnings | smut, jealousy, swearing, exhibition kink, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), squirting, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

A hunger derived in the vampire’s chest, a blossoming swarm of contained rage that made the sheriff clench his fangs and watch with piercing eyes. The laughter that resonated from your chest made him scowl, all because he was the one that was not causing it.

Instead, it was the dog that ran around this human grill, the shifter that more often than not, tried to distance himself from trouble. He was the owner of Merlottes. Sam Merlotte was his name, he had a head full of ashy brown hair, that had ropes of grey pleated through it. He was a nice man, warm and welcoming, the complete opposite of Eric in some sense.

The Viking vampire was known, and to your knowledge to be notorious. He never allowed anything to stand in his way, and if it dared to, he would literally, rip its head off if it had one. And despite that deadly feature that he exhibited, you still claimed to have loved him. The two of you were great together, you seemingly brought out the best in him, apart from right now.

Eric grunted to no one directly as he watched you swish your head side to side, shaking it as you laughed at something the bartender said. All that you were supposed to be doing were ordering drinks, not flirting with another one of the men that had previously been head over heels for Sookie.

With one last glance at the shifter, you turned back, sitting on the opposite side of the booth that Eric had been holding. You brushed your hair over your shoulder, it was obvious that you were relaxed in this environment. It was filled with your friends and neighbours, acquaintances and strangers. But it still, despite the limitless customers, induced you with serenity.

“The drinks will be here in a couple.” Despite informing him, it appeared that he could care less about the time until the order reached the surface of the table.

“Will that animal be serving them?” In reply, you laughed, dismissing the seriousness within his tone. That was, until you maintained eye contact with the tall blonde, noticing the feral presence decreasing the size of his pupil.

“Are you speaking about Sam?” You asked uncertainty, the owner having been the only one that you had conversed with in the bar, excluding Eric, so far. “Oh my god, you are.” Your speculation had been correct, and you couldn’t help but feel a pulse of annoyance within you.

If Eric actually ever listened to you, then he would know that your friends meant the world and more to you, and that included the shapeshifter. “I don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He put it simply, and you could only scoff at his defence. It was hardly a reason for him to appear and treat you so uptight and rudely.

“What, with care? Because news flash, maybe you haven’t noticed everything that I have done for you Eric, but many times my actions have proven that you are it for me. And if you can’t see that, you may as well be human!” To support your active words, you stood, the palms of your hands planted upon the surface of the booth.

Sookie quirked a brow as her head filled with your thoughts, however she had no time to adjust to them or check how you were doing, as you stormed out of the grill, leaving Eric with a frown and a sombre glaze in his untameable eyes.

But she couldn’t help herself from taking your place looking down at the table, judgementally prying Eric with a disgruntled frown. “Did you seriously question y/n’s love with you?!” Her accent came out strong, digging into the tense atmosphere that you had strongly abandoned.

Eric rolled his eyes at her intrusion, finding it to be a familiar, yet frustrating feeling of her always bursting his bubble. “It has nothing to do with you, why don’t you talk some sense into your vampiric boyfriend instead?” He jutted back at her, standing, and brushing off any possible lint from his blazer jacket.

Reaching into his inside pocket, he grabbed a small amount of cash, placing it upon the table, and walking past the half faerie, brushing against her as he went towards the door, leaving. Eric had no worries, he could sense that even whilst he was inside, that you were there, leant up against the wall, awaiting for him to follow after you. It was inevitable that he evens would.

Your arms were crossed, and you were facing the parking lot rather than the entrance. The stature that you upheld made it rather clear that you were angry with his behaviour; and not to mention that it was also in public.

The vampire knew that you loved him, despite Sookie’s feeble accusations. Fighting was not something that the pair of you were estranged to, however it made you furious to know that he would accuse you of being interested in somebody else.

It was certain that if Pam was here she would scold her maker for his uptight, and jealous outburst. But it wasn’t as though she would have been able to prevent it anyways, considering that she was all the way across town in Fangtasia attending to the business ongoing there.

“I do know that you love me.” His voice rang out in the cold of the night, frolicking to your ears and biting your lobes as you still refused to face the tall and unfavourable vampire.

“Right now, that is debatable.” Was your retort, feeling the cold air brush against your face as you felt it pinch your nose. “To not only insult my friend, but embarrass me in front of a bar full of people, that was not how tonight was supposed to go at all!”

Your body jolted as you suddenly felt his body press against the back of your own, his large and explorative hand dragging up the skin of your exposed thigh, that was free of coverage in the casual black dress that you had opted to wear for the occasion.

“I am sorry my lovely dear, you know how I tend to be, especially when I hear other men make you evoke that wonderful and all consuming laugh that gets my dead heart to beat every time.” A hitch of a sigh caught in your throat as you tried to remain unaffected by Eric’s flattery, but it was rather impossible, more so as his hands brushed against the lace of your panties.

On reflex, you snapped his hands away from that part of you, you were in the middle of the parking lot for Christ sakes! Though that did not, nor did it ever seem to phase him, if you were to guess, you had noticed some hints leading to him having an exhibition kink. And it was not as though you had never called him out on it, though, most of the time, you happened to give into his public desires.

It was often portrayed within the context and realm of his workplace; Fangtasia. Within the club, there was a frequent case of rendezvous that the club permitted to take place inside its various walls that were filled with vampires and their lustful humans. The exchanges that took place were anything but loving, they were filled by hunger, and the curiosity that simple people, that thought themselves to be edgy and desirable to the immortal eye, all making the rooms reek of pretentious assholes taking advantage of one another.

“We are not doing that here Eric.” You scolded his efforts, despite your craving for them to take place, and ravish you no matter the surrounding that were into the background anyways. With great resilience, you swatted his north travelling hands away, making them stoic from the adequate dismissal.But Eric Northman was never one to admit defeat, he had a plaguing tendency to get what he wanted, and he was always had a route of persuasion to get it.

“Aren’t we?” He asked wispily unto your drifting head, as though he were corrupting the stubbornness that was attempting to remain untainted in the rafters that floated so correspondingly through your weightless veins. “Then why are we sneaking to the back of the grill?” His words had a frown fired upon your face as you tried to register the truth behind his words, but in time before you could ask the mysterious vampire what he had meant by his words, he had sped you away to the said part that was already close by.

“Mature move.” You muttered, and the consequences of your off handed comment had earned you the vulnerable position of being pressed right up and against the back door, that was only usable to the staff. If you tilted your head just right, you could hear the clattering of plates being stacked, and the distant voices o Arlene and Terry as they partook in a private discussion that was supposed to be inaudible to anyone else’s ears.

Beaing that close to people that you knew, and in such a compromising situation where they could easily catch you, had you clenching your thighs together, clearly frustrated by the scenario of your predicament. Clearly. And with Eric standing smugly inside of you, once trailing his fingers on the high top of your thigh, his skin tasting your flesh that was beneath the dress, did not help the matters of your hormonal state.

“I said I was sorry.” Eric reminded you, stroking your thighs with his age old touch, and at the notion, your legs quivered, responding affective to his seducing touch. “Perhaps I have to prove it, would you like that y/n?” An audible whimper fell from your stiff mouth, evicting an amused and gloating smirk out of your boyfriend. He knew what he had done, he had moulded you into a desperate mess.

“I’d rather you apologise to Sam, and whoever else you happened to insult in your time in there.” Was your response, though he tutted at it, seeing through its mask, understanding what you wanted was for him to do more than just caress your thighs, and nothing more. “Eric.” A moan slipped from your mouth, as he fondled your breasts through the bleak fabric.

At first, you thought that he was going to pull the material down to expose your womanly globes, but instead, he tore straight down the middle of the dress, leaving it hanging from you by nothing more than a thread. His action enraged you only slightly, but before you could open your mouth to tell him off for destroying your clothing, he snapped the elastic of your underwear, leaving the personal garment to drop in a discarded manner at your heeled feet.

“You are indeed a sight for sore eyes. Do you know how jealous I would be if one of those fools came out here, and saw you so exposed? There’d be no words to describe how much I would want to compel them to forget, and you thought I was angry inside. That would be nothing more than an understatement my dear.” His hands cast themselves down to grope at your ass cheeks, pulling a surprised squeal out of your mouth.

This time, you did not try and stop his feeling of your body, instead, you rather encouraged it. Wrapping your hand in his smooth blonde locks, you began to push down, which was difficult considering how high his head was, leaving your arms half up in the air as you tried to make him descend. “Do something Eric, or I will.”

“Here?” He asked with a prominent smirk, feeling your hostile glare and intoxicating pout bore harshly into him. Rolling his eyes, he sighed, giving up on his verbal teasing as he sank to his knees, looking up at you from beside your legs. He pressed a sweet kiss against your navel, trailing down, until he was nipping at the curve of your mound, his hands resting on the back of your thighs, to pull you closer as he ran his tongue along the hood of your clit, making you bang your head back against the door.

The sound made you eyes go wide, as you worried that someone on the inside must have heard, though the thought quickly subsided as Eric began to eat you alive, stuffing his tongue in your entrance, leaving you to be nothing more than a mewling victim that was in distress from the pleasure that he gave you. His nose rubbed against your clit, as he hummed delightedly against you, the vibrations causing your body to quiver.

“Stop.” You panted, though he continued, staring up at you with those light eyes, that held much darkness of his past. “Need you inside of my Ric. Please, need you to fuck me good and hard, just fuck me.” There were tears frustratedly slipping from the corners of your eyes, as you were upheld of relief as Eric moved away, undoing his bottoms, and taking his long cock out, sweeping it against your slit.

“I’ll fuck you darling; let everyone know that your mine.” His free hand held the corner of your chin, plummeting his tongue into your mouth, to have one moment of calm, before he penetrated you, leaving you in a mess that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and deliriously spinning from the euphoria that you felt. Eric performed at a fast and unrelentingly pace, slamming you hard enough into the door for everyone to hear.

It was certain that people within Merlottes could hear the sounds that were ravaged from your lips, though you were too absorbed in your own pleasure to care at all. Eric fucked into you hard, and you appeared unfazed as someone tried to open the door from the other side, the wood splintering against your back as your boyfriend‘s strength kept it shut, pushing your floundering body back against it.

And then you felt it, the absentminded swirl in your stomach, coaxing you closer and closer to release. Eric filled you first, and then he reached down, rubbing your clit, causing a clear stream to spray out from around his cock, leaving you utterly exhausted. You were half asleep now, and so, Eric picked you up, and sped away, leaving your torn clothes upon the floor, so that anyone that found them would know that it was the pair of you that had been using the outside wall as a mattress for your engagements.

[no-reply95]

The Power Of Framing: John and Paul

Over the last few days I've been posting some quotes of interest that I'd bookmarked from Mark Lewisohn's Tune In book.

Tune In's reputation preceded it, every Beatles podcast I listened to mentioned it, Lewisohn's name either came up in conversation or the man himself would turn up for an interview so it got to the point that Tune In was so ubiquitous that I had to read the book and form an opinion for myself.

There are a lot of opinions I have on Tune In, both good and bad, but I'm not going touch on all of that here, at least not in this post.

The aspect of Lewisohn's narrative style that I want to get into is the way he frames the "bad" behaviour displayed by John and Paul.

There are two quotes from the book that I want to analyse, I'll start with John first:

John

“George was second only to John in the swallowing of Prellies and knew better than most the sum effect of taking too many for too long, how the combination of pills plus booze plus several sleepless days caused hallucinations and extreme conduct. He’d describe one occasion when he, Paul and Pete were lying in their bunk beds, trying to sleep, only for John to barge into the room in a wild state. ‘One night John came in and some chick was in bed with Paul and he cut all her clothes up with a pair of scissors, and was stabbing the wardrobe. Everybody was lying in bed thinking, “Oh fuck, I hope he doesn’t kill me.” [He was] a frothing mad person - he knew how to have “fun”.

Handling John was something his friends were well used to doing. If he didn’t murder them in their beds there was no greater buddy. They might fear for their lives but they loved him still. No way would they walk out and join another group. John was just John, and Paul and George’s hero-worship stayed fully intact.”

The above passage comes from the stint in Hamburg directly after Stu's death. John had always been the one to take the most prellies, as Lewisohn highlights, but he relays the fact that John was even more messed up than before subsequent to Stu's sudden death. I've highlighted a couple of lines from the extract to highlight how John's behaviour is framed by Lewisohn:

"the combination of pills plus booze plus several sleepless days caused hallucinations and extreme conduct"

From the outset Lewisohn is careful to outline the fact that John is under the influence of both bills and booze as well as being exhausted as a result of "several sleepless days" which has the sum impact of causing hallucinations and "extreme conduct" so in short, Lewisohn suggests that this behaviour from John is atypical and directly related to the substances and conditions he is under, the subsequent behaviour he displays, therefore, isn't a function of his innate personality, just a reaction to the chemicals and circumstances he currently finds himself beholden to.

"he, Paul and Pete were lying in their bunk beds, trying to sleep"

In terms of those impacted by John's actions, it isn't one individual that Lewisohn highlights, it's George, Paul and Pete, which to me suggests that anyone could have been on the receiving end of John's outburst. When describing the bedroom scene prior to John's entrance, Lewisohn describes the three guys as "trying to sleep", so a picture is painted of a quiet room where there's a lack of activity as everyone is tired and, either on their way to or currently, asleep.

"some chick was in bed with Paul and he cut all her clothes up with a pair of scissors, and was stabbing the wardrobe"

Firstly, the story that George relates (source Anthology, 2000), unlike the scene Lewisohn sets, makes it clear that there was only one target for John's outburst, not George, Pete or even Paul but an unnamed woman whose only crime was to be "in bed with Paul" so, far from trying to get to sleep, Paul was in fact having sex with this woman when John barged into the room. John, in the altered state that he's in, zeroes in on this woman by cutting up her clothes and stabbing at the wardrobe - it's a scary scene that George describes, so what is the lasting impression Lewisohn leaves us with?

"John was just John, and Paul and George’s hero-worship stayed fully intact.”

Despite the shock of the scene that George describes, ultimately John's behaviour has no lasting impact on his relationships with the others or on the future of the band. Lewisohn confirms that "Paul and George's hero-worship stayed fully intact" so not only was their view of John unharmed but they continued to hold him in the highest possible esteem, but how did they rationalise the unpredictability of John's behaviour? Well, "John was just John" the others knew that this was how John got from time to time, this was nothing new for them and their hero worship continued on, the core relationships were unaffected and the operation of the band was unscathed because there was no way that George and Paul would ever leave and join another band so, all in all, no harm done.

Paul

“Brian, John and George went to the Beehive and John used a public box to call Paul, returning with the message ‘He says he’s not coming.’ Brian must have been apoplectic: they’d be unable to play the booking, letting down the university and their paying audience, embarrassing him, ruining their chance of a rebooking, and undoing his repair work to the Beatles’ old bad reputation. He went back to his office to phone Paul, but Paul refused to speak. Jim informed Brian that Paul said he wouldn’t be turning up, and that was that.

Recalling the night five years later, Paul told of how, having discovered Brian and the others hadn’t waited outside his house for him, he decided ‘Fuck them - if they can’t be arsed waiting for me, I can’t be arsed going after them. So I sat down and watched telly.’ Jim was unable to persuade Paul to change his mind. Paul said he’d felt he’d always been ‘the keen one’, so now he’d go sharp the other way and make no effort at all.

John saw a bigger picture, and it would be surprising if it wasn’t equally obvious, or made obvious to Brian and George. He likened Paul’s enduring snag with Brian to his other long-standing difficulty: ‘[Brian] and Paul didn’t get along - it was a bit like [Stuart and Paul] between the two of them’.”

The above passage comes from a time in the Beatles' career, not long after they've agreed to take Brian on as their manager. Brian's hard work on their behalf is starting to pay off and they're getting the opportunity to do loads of gigs for good money. Lewisohn discusses an instance where Brian goes to 20 Forthlin Road to pick up Paul for the night's gig only to be told that he's running late and won't be able to get going for a while. As with the first passage, I've highlighted a couple of lines to highlight how Paul's behaviour is framed:

"Brian must have been apoplectic"

In this passage Lewisohn provides his interpretation of how Brian must have felt to turn up at Paul's house only to find that he'd defied his instructions to be on time. Right from the beginning of this story we are able to empathise with Brian, as the principle victim of Paul's actions.

"letting down the university and their paying audience, embarrassing him, ruining their chance of a rebooking, and undoing his repair work to the Beatles’ old bad reputation."

For the avoidance of doubt, Lewisohn details the wide reaching impact of Paul's behaviour and the list of the aggrieved is long: the university, the paying audience and ultimately the band, all the hard work that they and Brian have put in has been undone by Paul's actions and the tarnished reputation of old is back with a vengeance.

"John saw a bigger picture, and it would be surprising if it wasn’t equally obvious, or made obvious to Brian and George. He likened Paul’s enduring snag with Brian to his other long-standing difficulty: ‘[Brian] and Paul didn’t get along - it was a bit like [Stuart and Paul] between the two of them’.”

If the reader was left wondering if this was a one-off incident or if Paul was just having a bad day that he'd taken out on Brian, Lewisohn suggests that this was, in fact, part of a pattern of behaviour as "John saw a bigger picture" and Lewisohn remarks that "it would be surprising" if both Brian and George weren't equally aware of the bigger forces at play here. To reinforce the lasting implications of Paul's actions, Lewisohn talks about "Paul's enduring snag with Brian" and then likens it to Paul's other "long-standing difficulty" with Stu, which triggers the readers' knowledge of Paul's jealousy of Stu's closeness to John and invites the reader to also view Paul's relationship with Brian through that lens. The extract is then capped up by a quote from John (source, McCabe and Schonfled interview, 1971), seemingly, supporting Lewisohn's premise by linking the clash between Paul and Brian to the clash, that Lewisohn has already expertly laid out in his book, between Paul and Stu.

How the framing differs

In both excerpts I've pulled Lewisohn uses direct quotes from the principles as well as his own interpretation, both to varying impacts.

In the first excerpt, Lewisohn provides a context for John's behaviour, it's not long after Stu has died, John is under the influence of a cocktail of drugs and substances, so we're led to feel sympathy for the state that he's in and to excuse the frightening behaviour that subsequently follows. Lewisohn doesn't offer any context for Paul's behaviour, we assume that Paul is sober and of sound mind so there's no confusion as to the fact that Paul is in full control of his actions so we're less likely to excuse or able to rationalise his actions.

The preamble that Lewisohn writes prior to George's recounting of John barging into the room, mentions George, Pete and Paul being present, so Lewisohn gives us the impression that John's later actions are almost random, maybe it could have been Pete, or George, it just happened to be the woman in bed with Paul who triggered John's anger. We never hear about how the woman reacted to having her clothes torn to shreds just because she slept with Paul, Lewisohn doesn't offer any thoughts to Paul's reaction to having John barging into the room and raising hell while he was sharing an intimate moment with this woman. In stark contract, we're told precisely by Lewisohn about how he presumes Brian felt in the face of Paul's obstinance and the seriousness isn't lost on the reader because every possible group of people negatively impacted is called out with evocative language (i.e. embarrassing, ruining).

Lewisohn frames the Hamburg scissors incident in such a way that it's clear that this was just a blip on the band's radar, the "hero-worship" of George and Paul is undimmed and we're given the framework, either by accident or design, by which to view any similar outburst in the future, it's just John, he may overdo it from time to time but his negative actions will never be consequential because the love and worship the others have for him will never be overcome "no way would they walk out and join another group" because no matter what John did, Paul and George would condone it, stick by him and love him regardless, so why shouldn't we?

However, Lewisohn couldn't be clearer that Paul's disobedience of Brian was part of a larger pattern of behaviour that was detrimental to the band, John could see the bigger picture, the same bigger picture that was "obvious" to Brian and George. Rather than startling an unnamed German woman (Lewisohn leaves this to our imagination) Lewisohn carefully plots out how Paul's actions directly hurt the band and the good work they'd been doing with Brian's help. Far from a moment of chemically induced madness, Paul's behaviour is familiar, we've seen it before with Stu, now we're seeing it with Brian - Lewisohn is clear that the seeds of the break up are sewn in Tune In so is he suggesting that the behaviour Paul displays here can also be traced to 1969?

Was this difference in framing called for?

These two stories outlining John and Paul's behaviour aren't identical, one takes place in Hamburg in the privacy of a bedroom and directly impacts two people while the other takes place in Liverpool and directly impacts several people as well as the band, it could be argued that on this basis these situations Lewisohn was justified in framing these two incidents differently.

However, there are several similarities that I can spot between the behaviour John and Paul displayed:

Pattern of behaviour - Lewisohn appears to be making the case that John's outburst was purely circumstantial while Paul's clash with Brian was part of a longstanding jealousy issue Paul had of anyone close to John. I do think that jealousy may have been a factor in the clashes Paul had initially with Brian (as referenced briefly in my Jealous Guys post) but in my opinion there are complexities that exist with Paul's relationship with Brian (namely around Paul's dislike of authority figures and need for control) that don't exist in Paul's relationship with Stu or, further down the road, Yoko as neither Stu nor Yoko were ever in a position of authority over Paul, John didn't bring them into the band as a manager or producer so I think the more natural comparison is Stu and Yoko not Stu and Brian. Further, despite Lewisohn's descriptions to the contrary and lack of relation to a bigger picture, John's behaviour here was in fact part of a pattern of behaviour, this woman wasn't the first and would not be the last of Paul's love interests that John reacted negatively to; Jane Asher, Peggy Lipton and ultimately Linda would feel the brunt of John's negative attention throughout the Beatles and post-Beatles years, this was an opportunity for Lewisohn to lay the groundwork of that but unfortunately he didn't want to connect these particular dots.

Impact on the band - Lewisohn is at pains to outline how George and Paul weren't going anywhere and there's no suggestion that John's actions would have any impact on the band or its future but, with the hindsight we have, is that correct? Even before Hamburg, John is abusing alcohol, largely to numb the effects of the sudden death of his mother, then in Hamburg, he's now abusing drugs too which negatively impacts his behaviour. For the rest of the Beatle years John's substance abuse issues appear again and again (Bob Wooler incident at Paul's 21st birthday, destruction of ego and fall in productivity due to prolonged LSD use, increase in the communication issues in the band in the wake of John and Yoko's heroin addiction). If Lewisohn was really interested in giving us the bigger picture, why didn't he outline the detrimental impact that John's substance abuse issues were having on the band, all it would have taken was for him to help the reader to understand how the woman and Paul felt as a result of John's actions but instead he uses this story as another opportunity to reinforce the idea that Paul and George hero-worshipped John.

Links to the break up: In many of his podcast interviews (Nothing Is Real and Fabcast spring to mind) Lewisohn is clear that, although the events of the break-up are years away from being committed to paper, the roots are laid out in Tune In. Paul's clash with Brian is framed in such a way to underscore how it fostered long difficulties between Paul and the band's manager in a way that was obvious to the others, does that sound familiar? If we sub Klein in for Brian, we've suddenly been transported to the summer of '69, I believe this is intentional and given the pretty uncharitable way Paul's actions are described (Paul should have been on time but leaving without him so that he had to take several buses instead only made everyone later and poured gasoline on an already open flame, neither Paul, Brian or the band won in this situation which I think all parties came to realise at a later stage) we're already being conditioned to believe that by the time it's 1969 this reckoning for Paul has been a long time coming and we should be glad that John, George, Ringo and Klein are finally stand up to Paul's immature power plays. However, can the break up also be traced to John's actions. As already discussed, the first excerpt outlines one of the first instances of John's substance abuse negatively impacting the band, in 1961 he's destroying a woman's clothing, cock-blocking Paul and terrorising everyone, in 1969 he's in a heroin haze with Yoko which hinders the already frayed communication links with the rest of the band and fosters an environment where, to John, only "JohnandYoko" matter ("I mean, I’m not going to lie, you know. I would sacrifice you all for her [Ono]", Get Back Sessions, 1969) to the extent that they're able to be wooed by Allen Klein who knows exactly what John and Yoko want so they allow him to give it to them, irrespective of what the rest of band need or want.

In the end, I have no problem with either story being included in Tune In, neither John or Paul were saints and in these instances we can see aspects of their personality that will feature, for better and for worse, over the course of the rest of the Beatles' career and, in John's case, his life. However, it is a shame that time and time again, when given the opportunity to frame John and Paul's actions Lewisohn opts to minimise John's misdeeds via his emphasis on Paul and George's love and patience for him, while for Paul almost no context is provided for his negative actions and Lewisohn subtlety begins to plot the lines that will eventually lead to the 3 to 1 split and the lawsuit that, not only breaks up the band but ensures they never reform again. The part Paul plays in the break-up does have roots in his personality, which we see glimpses of in his interactions with Brian in 1961 (he won't be pushed around and his reaction to being pushed is to fight back not fall in line) but we also see John's role start to take shape too (the unpredictability of his actions under the influence of substances and the chain of events that would occur as a result i.e. LSD - loss of ego - jealousy of Paul's output and his loss of dominance - openness to Klein who identifies John as the leader and reinforces his belief in his supremacy in the Lennon-McCartney partnership as well as filling John with misinformation like reminding him he wrote most of Eleanor Rigby). It's a problem that only Paul's negative reactions and missteps are framed in the wider context of the band because this skews the story and fails to accurately plot the role John also played in the band's demise. If Lewisohn's aim is to provide us with a balanced, definitive take on the band's story then, based on this evidence, he's falling short.

[stopeatingwhales]

"how come we've never spoken before?" x noel gallagher

why haven't I written anything for noel in ages??????? anyways this was so cute I hope u lot like it <33

Pairing: 1990! noel gallagher x reader

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1.951

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

“You wanna come over tonight?” Liam asked me as we were walking out of the sixth form building. “Our kids coming to pick us up so was wondering if you wanted to come with.”

“Yeah alright.” I nodded, linking my arm with Liam as we walked out of the gates together. Going over to the Gallagher residence wasn’t an uncommon matter, if anything I was over at theirs at least once a week. Since their father had left the environment was always pleasant, his mum always cooking the best, most delicious meals which caused your body to crave it again each and every day until you returned back for dinner once again. As well as that, being able to spend time with Liam was always an enjoyable experience - him being my best friend since first joining the college, we hadn’t been able to separate ourselves from each other since. Of course, we would have different friends, different groups, but we always turned back to each other - something that I adored most about our relationship; we didn’t constantly need to be with one another to consider each other our best friend. Whenever I was over we would relax in his room, talking about practically everything and everything, sometimes smoking a joint by his window to prevent his mum finding out, even though the stench of it would stick to our clothes like glue - giving it away instantaneously.

After exiting the school gates, we walked for a bit until we reached the nearest neighbourhood of houses, where Noel said he would pick Liam up. To waste the time, Liam brought out a spliff from his pocket, placing it between his lips, then lighting it, him failing a couple times to get the lighter to produce a flame. “Give me a hit,” I said, watching Liam as he quickly inhaled the roll of weed, then passing it to me, a wave of smoke hitting my face from Liam’s mouth. “Stop that you twat.”

There was hardly anybody outside, from the look of the area, merely just the occasional car whizzing past us, causing the empyrean of smoke discarded from our throats to diffuse into the atmosphere. It produced a clear contrast against the skies, which had little to no clouds visible at all. Having a clear, sunny day in Manchester wasn’t something ordinary; it was a rarity, but for the past year the weather had been brilliant, though brilliant becomes unlivable when the temperature continues to increase to the thirties, celsius wise. That’s when the nature of constant traffic, crowded streets and lengthy queues at the ice cream machine disperse into their homes - the sun being too strong it becomes a chore to leave the house. Having the world so silent, hushed, brings another kind of tranquillity to the mind. Watching an inanimate street fixated in the same position, as if it were a ghost-town, encompasses that feeling of being the only person present in the world at that moment, which makes you realise that the life you live is not lead to be controlled of dictated by others - it is yours, and it is something in which you hold complete control over.

After a couple minutes of small talk shared between me and Liam, a small car drove past us, stopping promptly as the windows rolled down, indicating that it was Noel. Me and Liam quickly rushed out of the sun that was beaming down at us, to get inside his car; Liam hopping in the passenger seat next to his brother whilst I occupied the middle seat in the back. “Hi Noel.” I said softly, smiling at him through the rear view mirror, our eyes connecting for a short second whilst he greeted me back, then turning to greet Liam before taking off. Mine and Noel’s relationship wasn’t anything special: we spoke here and there, but since he usually was occupied by hanging out with friends, or travelling as a groupie for Inspiral Carpets, we never conversed much. It was a mere relationship formulated from my closeness with Liam, as manners are important - even if Liam shows the opposite. I was quite intrigued by Noel disregarding his conventional absences; he seemed to lead a life which was exciting and alluring, and was a complete contrast against Liam’s persona from what I had noticed. Liam was more into sports, mainly football, and causing havoc wherever he could (me constantly joining him since he knew how to have an absolute good time), whilst Noel seemed completely consumed by music and the wonders of working with bands. Regardless, they shared some idiosyncrasies, one thing in particular definitely being their love for weed.

Once we arrived at the house, we were greeted by Liam’s mum, who welcomed me in lovingly. “Always a pleasure to have you over, Y/N,” she said as I broke away from the embrace we shared to allow me to take off my shoes. “Liam, I'm going to need you to help me in the kitchen today.” she then said to Liam, whose face then dropped in complete annoyance.

“Why?” he moaned in response, sighing at his mum whilst removing his shoes. “Y/N’s literally here!”

“Maybe because you haven’t done the washing up for over a week, Liam,” she responded, turning her gaze to look at me, rolling her eyes at his demeanour. “Y/N’s not going anywhere, it won’t take you a year.”

After we were able to get Liam to do his chores, I told him that I would be waiting upstairs for him, in his and Noel’s room. Once I went inside, I wandered around the medium-sized room, finding my way over to Noel’s side, especially fixated on the stack of records that he had owned, aligned by the table next to the record player. He had all sorts of bands; the Beatles, the Who, the Smiths, Sex Pistols... All the best artists. The more and more I found out about him the interest I had about him increased. He seemed like a cool older brother to have, and share a room with, even though Liam sees boys in bands quite odd - which is humorous, since he’s practically an entity of his own. Proceeding to pick up a vinyl by the Smiths, the album in particular being the Queen is Dead, I admired the cover whilst grasping it in my palms. The Smiths were the only band that seemed to use the most aimless, but oddy aesthetic images of random men as their album covers - most likely courtesy of Morrissey’s desires - though I suppose is one element which creates the artistic composition of the band, and their music. Snapping me out of the trance I was consumed in, a voice echoed in the room, one which was definitely not Liam’s. “Like what you see?”

Turning around to find out who it was, I was accosted by the sight of Noel, who was holding a warm mug of tea. Flustered, I placed the vinyl back in the stack before taking a seat on Liam’s bed. “Sorry,” I mumbled, looking at Noel whilst playing with my fingers in my lap.

View stuck on him, I watched him walk to his bedside table, placing his mug of tea on the coaster, then reaching out to grab the vinyl that was once embraced by my palms. “You like the Smiths?” he asked, his eyes now connecting to my gaze.

“Yeah I do,” I said, smiling slightly at his question. “That’s my favourite album of theirs actually.”

“Didn’t expect that from you,” He replied back, taking a sip from his mug of tea before taking the vinyl out of its sleeve and placing it on the record player, watching the needle intently as it gently dropped onto the black disc before sitting back on his bed. The title track’s intro then seeped into the silence of the room, paired by Noel humming along to it. “Think their debut was better, if I’m honest.”

“Well preference always matters,” I answered back, walking over to his bed to grab the vinyl sleeve, gazing at the lyric sheets, also taking a seat next to Noel. I felt his stare on me, but I attempted to ignore it as I focused on the little verses of poetry in one of the songs. “Morrissey is such a depressing writer.”

A laugh rumbled at his throat at my absentminded comment. Averting my gaze, I looked at Noel and smiled again. “I’m not wrong!”

“What else you into?” he asked me, curiosity laced in his tone as he diverted the topic.

“Everything else you listen to really, I looked through most of your vinyls,” I replied, watching Noel as his eyebrows furrowed together in shock, my smile widening as I felt my cheeks start to burn slightly - I had never thought that I’d be having a genuine conversation with Noel. “Especially the Beatles, Liam’s told me how much you love them.”

Noel was impressed, and it showed on his face quite evidently. “What’s your favourite album by them then?”

Looking away for a couple seconds, I thought of a response. “Probably Sergeant Peppers. Was their most innovative stuff, in my opinion at least.”

We continued to ramble on about music for a short while, Noel continuing to act excessively shocked whenever I had told him I had indeed listened or liked an artist he questioned. It was nice to finally discuss music with somebody since Liam was never really into it. “You’d never expect me to listen to all of this because I’m friends with a lunatic.”

Another laugh left Noel’s mouth, a smile stuck on his lips. “All he’s obsessed with is football, I don’t even get how you’re both mates.”

“Opposites attract.” I answered back, leaning back to have my back against the wall as we continued to talk. My cheeks began to hurt after a while of us chatting, due to the smile that was unable to leave my lips.

“How come we’ve never spoken properly before?” He asked, walking over to flip the vinyl to side B. “You’re cool.” he added in a mumble, almost as if he didn’t want it to be heard.

I felt blood slightly rush to my cheeks after the compliment fell from his lips, my top teeth clinging onto my bottom lip as a wave of nervousness washed over me. “Maybe because you’re always out.”

A hum of agreement rumbled from his throat as my eyes fixated themselves on the white ceiling. I could see that Noel was staring at me through my peripheral, which caused my cheeks to increase their redness, only slightly. “We should hang out sometime.”

Connecting eyes with him, I admired his dark brown orbs for a second, before I responded. “We should.”

Breaking our moment together, we were welcomed by an exhausted Liam rushing into the room, breathing heavily from his jog up the stairs. Falling onto the bed, me and Noel shared a moment of laughter as we simply stared at Liam’s state. “What’re you lot laughing about?”

Me and Noel turned to look at one another, sharing a gaze once again. There was a specific glint in his eyes which I marveled at, his face beaming at me, only causing me to reciprocate in the same manner. Our stare meant more than what it was, a certain tension was held between us that was felt by both participants. Especially for Noel, whose heart was pumping as if it were about to burst out of his chest, his cheeks a little flushed out of admiration for the girl sitting next to him. “Nothing.” we replied, giggling slightly as our eyes stayed glued on one another.

[yoomiii123]

I’m trying not to break my question a day streak..apart from loving to dress R *insert ANY other name here .. but not EJ* up, do you think Alice develops a more deeper bond with her niece other than superficial? I can imagine Jasper helping Renesmee out during her “teenage” years with all the emotions…maybe when she finds out eventually that Jacob had a thing for her mum and kissed her…? Idk I feel like I’d need a break from Bella, Ed and Jacob for a few hours if that all came out..who else to go to but your fun Auntie’s and Uncle’s?

But at the same time I also don’t think J&A are maternal/paternal so I’m not sure what insight they would give and the type of relationship they’d develop with their niece.

Wow, how do you come up with these great questions on a daily basis? Thanks so much for asking and keeping that streak alive (though there would absolutely be no shame in breaking it, if you run out of questions ;-) )

So, Nessie… I love your ideas about Jasper helping her cope with teenage emotions and maybe Alice assisting when she gets the whole story of Bella and Jacob (or maybe she's the one who spills it?) But honestly, I think that neither Jasper nor Alice develop a deeper bond with her. Alice mostly sees her as another fun puppet to dress up, especially since she's constantly changing. And Jasper is intrigued by her existence, but also has some long conversations with Huilen and Nahuel to ensure she doesn't develop into a threat for Alice. They are certainly friendly with her and would comply if she asked them for something, but unlike Rosalie and Emmett they don't really adapt the aunt and uncle roles.

The main reason for this is another headcanon I have: Alice and Jasper leave the Cullens for an extended holiday after Breaking Dawn—missing what would in a normal child be years worth of Renesmee's development in the process.

Breaking Dawn, the way Stephenie wrote it, leaves Jasper at the brink of a major life crisis. He was looking forward to no longer being the weakest link in the family and simultaneously preparing to control a newborn for the first time in seven decades. But instead he got a creation that shouldn't exist, the Volturi humiliated and thirsting after his wife, and he had his whole belief system shattered by a newborn with perfect self-control. He needed some time away from the perfect family bliss to come to terms with all of that.

Alice recognised Jasper's troubles and was happy to go with him. Especially, since she had to adjust to major changes as well. For almost six decades, she was the Cullen's signpost; constantly monitoring their futures, juggling possibilities, always knowing what was coming next. But with Nessie and Jacob around—their futures closely entangled with the other Cullens—Alice would no longer be able to do that. She would only get glimpses of events that didn't directly relate to Nessie or Jacob, which probably isn't going to be a lot during Nessie's first years. Therefore, she had quite some things to figure out as well.

While Alice and Jasper are off on their soul-searching holiday, the Cullens adapt to the new family dynamic, with Emmett and Rosalie happily occupying the role of uncle and aunt. By the time the two return, Nessie doesn't need another uncle or aunt, so their relationship remains more distant.

I could see them developing a relationship akin to the one they have with Rosalie / Emmett / Edward, once Nessie is grown and participates in the Cullen charade. But that's twenty, maybe thirty years down the line and assumes that they are still around and able to live their lives the way they used to by then (which is an entirely different discussion for another day).

[newswcanonprompts]

Anakin is sent to negotiate with Gardulla the Hutt bc of the success of the Jabba mission (no one in the Council knows Gardulla used to own him)

editor’s note: there is actually a fic that came from this, by the lovely @primeemeraldheiress! here is the link

this one is SUPER angsty, sorry in advance, i missed the original conversation about this prompt and when i got back online everyone was yelling about it, when i read what they did i was in *shock*. like ow. anyways have fun

After being so helpful in rescuing Jabba the Hutt's son, Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up being sent on a mission to help Gardulla the Hutt because Anakin hasn't told anyone about his history with her

Possible reactions from Gardulla:

"Skywalker? I owned a human like that, her brat always caused trouble. Good riddance!"

What if she decides that since he's back in her territory that means he belongs to her again

.....gardulla hears him try to call obi-wan master and tries to buy anakin from him (Gardulla asking if obi-wan is anakin's master and anakin being in such a messed up mental space that he says yes, trusting that Obi-wan won’t let her buy him)

Obi-Wan wondering why Anakin is being so specifically arsey with this Hutt. "Force you're worse with her than you were with Jabba."

"Oh yeah, she bought me and my mother. I think I have a reason to dislike her."

The council meeting afterwards where obi-wan rails on the council...

Obi-Wan suddenly getting a horrible feeling whenever Anakin calls him master because he's known the contexts were different but now it is real and in his face

Like it's a different thing for Obi-Wan to know his padawan used to be a slave compared to looking his padawan's former master in the eye and seeing her current slaves.

Anakin manages to control himself in the throne room but the whole way there and back he can't help worrying that one of the really old lash scars that curls around his shoulder will be noticed, that his identity as a former slave will be exposed

anakin not being able to call obi-wan master on tatooine like. point blank. he starts addressing him as master and just. flinches.

anakin usually wears his heart on his sleeves right?? always shows his emotions, feelings, all that. Well, the closer they get to gardulla's palace the blanker his face gets

Ahsoka calls Anakin master and Anakin just grits out a "Please don't call me that, not here."

Obi-Wan suddenly realising why Anakin comes across as arrogant as times. He's spent his entire life trying to up his value because there's safety in value.

Anakin telling them not to use the name "Skywalker" while they're in the palace

Anakin's accent shifts so entirely to the point where it almost sounds like Obi-Wan's because he's so determined to not slip into old roles

Anakin having to be physically held back from getting into a physical fight. Not even using his lightsaber, he just wants to fight

Or, alternatively, all the fight just going out of Anakin because he knows, here, it'll just make everything worse. So he's almost.... compliant and it freaks everyone out

Ex. from @youngcreativenerdgoddess: Obi-Wan is terrified. His former padawan is the most resigned he’s ever been. He looks so....defeated. A look one would never expect on the vaunted “Hero with no fear”. All the fight was gone from him, and that scared him more than anything else in this force-damned war had.

Obi-Wan actually being the one about to lose his temper and then Anakin just puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him there's no point.

Consider: instead of anakin being angry he was sent on the mission, being resigned because of course he was, he knew Gardulla bes

Anakin comes across as an almost perfect Jedi for once in his life and in the context it is horrifying

Anakin’s report to the council is so matter of fact because he thought they knowingly sent him on the mission because of his past experience with Gardulla

Obi-Wan finds Anakin writing what he thinks is a CV then he sees the numbers next to it and it is his estimated value--"for the gardulla mission, if she finds out who I am she'll try to rebuy me"

After the mission, from @jasontoddiefor: "Failed you, we have," Yoda said, his voice full of grief, and Obi-Wan watched in horror as Anakin only titled his head, for once looking his age and not the years the war has aged him. 

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, not understanding.

Examples of bits and pieces from this prompt:

Ex. from jasontodiefor: Anakin in the corner of her palace having a breakdown because he remembers memories he had thought gone, his mother's shouting and the tearful begging and the pain, pain, pain and he hadn't meant to break the vase, it had been an accident, please stop it hurts, Mom-

jasontodiefor: "A game of chance." 

"What?" 

Anakin doesn't look up from his hands, doesn't meet Obi-Wan's eyes. He hadn't since they'd arrived here. "I'd still be here like them if not for a game of chance. I'd be worth more than just a few credits too. Force-sensitive, young, good with mechanics, pretty-"

Ex. from Ro: Obi-Wan has never seen Anakin this silent before. There were nights before, when they were both younger, Obi-Wan himself still trying to heal from Qui-Gon's death and Anakin trying to get used to the temple. And Anakin would get quiet, but he was never this stone cold silent. Never this blank. He's so emotional, Obi-Wan's former padawan (his child), so open with his heart on his sleeve. There is none of that here, none of that bright boy. Anakin doesn't fight it, and that is the thing that worries Obi-Wan the most, because when Anakin doesn't like something he fights, he lashes out with teeth and sticks his heels in. But in this, he is resigned. (Anakin doesn't let Ashoka off the ship. She fights and argues but Anakin doesn't move, doesn't joke. He stands firm with it and Obi-Wan watches.

"Master, I—" 

Anakin flinches, "You're staying on the ship, Ahsoka, that's final." She huffs and leaves, and the only thing Obi-Wan can see is how relieved Anakin looks. There is something wrong here, but Anakin has never liked talking about Tatooine, and Obi-Wan has never pushed.) Obi-Wan has never hated a mission more.

Another ex from jasontodiefor: "But-" 

"You're young," Anakin interrupts her sharply. Ahsoka hates it when he cuts her off. It doesn't happen too often, mostly on the battlefield when he's barking orders at everyone. If anything, he lets her speak out of tune more often than he should or other Masters would, but right now his voice doesn't leave any room for agreement. "Young, underage actually, and female, that's the first 10K. Extra five if they don't sell you as inexperienced, and only stupid slavers would do that, but as a virgin."

Ahsoka pales. Anakin's voice is harsh, but there is an almost easy flow to his words, as if he had recited them in his head over and over again. "Force sensitive, that's next. Another 8K regularly, but you're a Jedi, so that's 20K. A Padawan, mind you, but you're a known face next to mine and Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan would fetch 40 for his status as a Jedi and councilor alone. And you're a Togruta, you sell better than a human girl. I'd add another 6 for that."

You sell better. Not you would, there's nothing hypothetical about this, Ahsoka realizes. Anakin's narrowing down what would happen to her if somebody just managed to grab her lightsabers, to put a collar around her throat and cut her off from all that she had ever known. "Now, that's just your base value," Anakin continues. "You're also a pretty good mechanic and pilot, though the latter makes your flight risk much higher. Given how dangerous you are, let's say 10K. You're a strong fighter, so you could probably get another 8K in the arena, perhaps a little more depending on what planet you're sold on. Your political value also can't be overlooked. You fight at the front and know much more about the war effort as a whole and that's worth much more, probably another 15." Anakin holds up his fingers like he's counting apples and now how much people would be willing to brand her as theirs. "So we're roughly at 70. That's not bad at all. Not as much as Obi-Wan or I would get, but it's more than enough. You're not coming on this mission. End of discussion."

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Take Care of Me

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 5.5k

Summary = A discussion about sex toys turns into something more … concrete

Warnings = Swearing, talk/description of mild anxiety. SMUT (18+ only), use of handcuffs in a sexy way, oral, piv sex

A/N = Prompt no.8 requested by @itspdameronthings​ as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” w/santi and bolded in text. Also 3 things; 1 = Tom doesn’t exist in this AU, 2 = this is basically pure smut im so sorry, and 3 = I did do head hopping in this, which I know you’re not like supposed to do but also fuck the rules y’know?

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

It’s always easy to be loose after one of Benny’s fights.

It’s a heady mix of adrenaline, beer and testosterone, swirling together into a mix that makes you forget your normal boundaries. You’re normally quite brazen about your sex life anyway, but there is a line. You respect your partners, and there’s no need for your teammates to know too much.  

You’re all packed into a half-moon booth, Benny straddling a chair that he pulled up to the table after he spent too long chatting up the bartender.

It’s a small comment from Benny (because of course it’s Benny), saying that you haven’t got laid in a while, and you’re honestly surprised he noticed. But then, that’s the only predictable thing about Benny, that he is unpredictable.

Your surprise means you take a little too long actually thinking about it, which confirms Benny’s statement. You lean back a little in your seat, desperately ignoring Santi, who’s sat to your left. It also means you bite back a little harder in defence.

“Well maybe if you guys didn’t look like you’re about to murder anyone who even dares ask for my number maybe I’d have better luck.” That’s a lie, but there’s no way you’re going to tell them the truth. No way you’re going to tell Santi-

Your thoughts are interrupted by Will, sat to your right. “So you’re asking for our help?”

You scoff, hitting him up the head. “No, thank you.” Will knows why. Because of course he does. One of your oldest friends, he’d been the one who convinced you to join the team in the first place. “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”

You send a wink down to the table to Benny, who’s the first to catch on, hollering, and you try not to react to Santi leaning forward, suddenly interested, as though you’re not already hyper-aware of every body movement of his.

You continue, deciding you’re quite enjoying the effect you’ve had. “What do I need some stranger for when I can give myself a better orgasm than he could ever dream of?” You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin, as both Benny and Will holler, gaining a few glares from the pub’s other patrons.

That sip means you’re unprepared for Santi to lean in closer to you, his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his breath. “Maybe ‘stranger’ is where you’re going wrong.”

You swallow, unprepared for the sudden flare of attraction shooting through you and turning your head, just as he says, “I could take care of you.”

You catch a glimpse of Santi’s fuck me eyes when Benny (the dickhead) interrupts. Crossing his arms on the sticky table in front of him, he asks, “Does that mean you have toys?”

Frankie’s hat somehow tips lower on his head, if that’s possible.

Will twitches towards his brother, like he wants to strangle Benny for being so uncouth, but you put your hand on his upper arm. “Of course.” The best course of action is to just act like this is normal, so add a bit of air to your voice. This was normal. “Who doesn’t?”

There’s a blush rising on Benny’s cheeks and you can’t help but stoke it, grinning at him, and attempting your best bedroom eyes. He’s still not too ashamed to ask though. “What kinds?”

Will decides he’s had enough, glancing at Santi behind you with a frown and hitting Benny over the head in an imitation of the way you’d hit him. You laugh, unexpectedly pleased at the reaction you’ve gotten. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Benny nods, eager, even as Will stands, grabbing a hold of him, and steering him towards the bar. “Yes! Yes I would!” He manages to throw back at you and you laugh again, twisting your body to face Santi and Frankie, bringing your left leg onto the bench.

***

Meanwhile Santiago is in hell. He’s been in multiple hellish situations before, most similar to this one, in that it was always the 5 of you, bullets flying around your heads, rifles in your arms, weighed down by heat and sweat and tac vests.

And yet somehow, he thinks this might be the worst. Your foot next to his thigh, your knee bent, pulling your jeans up your leg and exposing your ankle to him. Watching you flirt with Benny, talking about sex, and toys, and masturbation. When that's all he wants to do with you. He just has to get the courage to tell you.

With you, there was a before in Santi’s life, and an after.

Before he knew you; and after he knew you.

Before he loved you; and after he loved you.

Except Santi’s not quite sure when he fell in love with you.

It started when Will introduced you as the newest member of the team, one of his childhood friends. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he treated you like he treated anyone else, quickly discovering that you weren’t like anyone else.

He welcomed you into his life with open arms, starting off innocently - he wanted to spend time with you. You were Will’s friend, which meant that there must be something good about you. You made him laugh, made him feel safe (even when he wasn’t). He’d wanted to do the same for you and thought he did a pretty good job.

He became your friend, until one day the two of you were watching a film. He can’t remember what it was, just that you were at his house, drinking and laughing and talking, huddled in one of his blankets, and looking like you belonged there, forever.

Falling in love with you was so easy, Santi didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Santi’s still impressed with himself that he didn’t just blurt out the words then and there. I love you.

How long had he been in love with you for? He couldn’t pinpoint down a specific moment. He remembered the night when you’d become friends - the last two around the bonfire, toasting marshmallows, making that awkward small-talk that occurs between acquaintances.

You’d made him laugh, playing chubby-bunny and teasing him until he’d had a go. You’d talked and talked, and Santi can’t even remember what about. Nothing, probably. The basics. Boring stuff, but filled with details that he’d used to keep the conversation going the next day.

He knows when he became your friend. Recognised when you trusted him more than the others, with the exception of maybe Will.

But he didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Just the day that the love became so overwhelming in his chest that he realised it.

The real nail in his metaphorical coffin was the night afterwards. The 5 of you had gone to a bar, and a girl had started talking to him as he was buying drinks. She was pretty, but she wasn’t you. And like a flashbulb, all of Santi’s previous partners flew through his mind and he realised that nothing had ever come out of them because they weren’t you.

They didn’t know how he liked his coffee, or why he had joined the military. They didn’t know the story behind his callsign, or what his favourite song was.

You did. What you weren’t there for, you asked about. You remembered. You made him feel important, like he mattered. In ways that he didn’t even really know existed.

You were the one that started him on decaf without telling him. That had been a conversation and a half. Before morning briefings, you’d started bringing him coffees. He hadn’t noticed much of a taste difference, and shamefully, had come to expect them.

Until, a month later, you weren’t there. A small trip home to visit your family, everyone knew you’d be back in a couple of days. Regardless, Santi had ordered what he’d thought was his usual coffee.

And found his anxiety rearing up again. It was subtle, making him more jumpy, less able to sleep, but it was there. He wasn’t sure what the cause was, definitely hadn’t linked it to the coffee, instead assuming that maybe he just missed you. Maybe because his anxiety hadn’t disappeared all the way, even with decaf. Maybe it was because it was your presence that helped him too.

He hadn’t even really noticed when the caffeine was gone, hadn’t noticed the absence of something wrong, only seeing the contrast when it returned. Maybe because it was gradual, the weaning off the caffeinated coffee, whereas the return, with his request of additional shot, had been too sharp for him.

You hadn’t noticed at first, assuming that Santi’s bear hug when he’d first seen you had just been because he missed you. But after lunch you pulled him to one side.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes are slightly wider with worry, and you’re chewing slightly on your bottom lip.

He hates that he’s the one to do that to you, and he tries to brush it off. “I’m fine.” That was his first mistake. His second was trying to push past you.

“Santiago!” He’s pulled up short, and there’s that tension, pulling at his shoulders, his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Your tone of voice hasn’t changed, but this time it’s a command.

Exhausted, hating himself, Santi drags his hands across his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t...I don’t know.” He takes a breath, and it shudders through him. “I don’t know.” He sounds defeated, and he hopes you can’t hear it. “I just...I feel…” How does he feel? “Jittery.” Is what he finally settles on, but the word still feels wrong somehow.

You frown, looking him up and down like you’ve never seen him before. In fact, you’re silent for so long, Santi starts to be worried that you’re going to tell him to stop being so fucking ridiculous.

You don’t, but you ask questions.

Has he been sleeping? “Not really.”

Does he have something big coming up? “Just the usual.”

Has his daily routine changed at all? “No, I don’t think so. I get myself a coffee in the morning and the-”

You interrupt him with a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” And now it’s wrong, because now you’re looking at him like it’s your fault, when it definitely isn’t. “Santi I’m sorry. It’s your coffee.”

Santi frowns. His coffee? And you sound so apologetic, and he doesn’t understand why. “I switched you to decaf.” You can’t meet his eyes any more, gaze skittering to his shoulder with nerves. And you’re not shutting up. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, or asked if I could, I just... I knew you were getting nightmares, and decaf helped me so I thought it might help y-”

Santi cuts you off with a hug.

And now, the three of you sat in the booth, he hates himself for agreeing with Benny. He would like to know. He has a sneaking suspicion, odd little comments you’ve made throughout the years that when pieced together, paint a picture. A very vivid picture that he sometimes uses to torture himself, late at night in bed, imagining what you’d look like with your hands between your legs and wrapping a hand around his-

Santi shakes his head. Now is not the time. There’s never really a good time to fantasise about one of your best friends, but in public when they’re sitting next to you, is definitely one of the worst.

And why did he have to offer to take care of you? Did he think he was in some kind of cheesy porno? What if you hated him-

In the end, it’s you who breaks him out of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed Pope.” You push out with your foot, lightly kicking his thigh, unable to read his stony face.

Throughout all of this, Frankie has kept quiet, and now the conversation seems like it’ll be returning to safer ground, he rubs a hand over his face, lifting his hat slightly. “No.” Santi protests, although he says it too fast for it to be sincere. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Good,” you reply, and Santi can see the moment a thought pops into your head that you can’t resist, he can see it in the way your eyes light up with mischief. “Out of all the boys, I figured you’d be the most likely to use toys.”

Frankie quickly slides out from his seat, muttering something about going to the toilet, his cheeks aflame, as Santi chokes a little on his beer. “Or maybe Will,” you muse, and Santi coughs again. “Shit, are you alright?” You ask, rocking forward to lean on your knee so you can rub Santi’s back for a second.

He concentrates on getting himself back under control, on not focusing how warm your hand is against his back. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to calm his heart down, praying that the room is dark enough that you won’t see him blush.  

Santi nods, his eyes watering a little, and you laugh, but it’s not unkind, not even when one of your thumbs wipes at his lower lash line, brushing away his tears with the pad. It’s so unexpectedly soft, another sharp contrast to this sticky, seedy bar they’re all in, where the booth seats are cracked and the most complicated drink they make is a rum and coke.

“Good,” you say, voice quiet, scooting back on the bench, your foot closer to his thigh this time, and Santi hates himself for wanting to follow you.

Instead, he pretends everyone else is still here, even as he watches Will whisper something into Benny’s ear as they stand, drinking next to the bar, with no clear intention of returning. Suddenly Benny punches Will’s upper arm, and Santi’s eyebrows twitch slightly in confusion. Benny looks ecstatic, and for what?

“I’ve used handcuffs,” he says casually, half of his mind taken up with Benny and Will acting like lunatics at the bar behind you. He’s wrenched back to you when you raise an eyebrow, and he’s reminded what it feels like to be the centre of your world.

Fuck, you’re sexy though.

***

Your heart beat speeds up, suddenly sounding loud in your chest. Your mind is screaming Danger! at you - but how can it be? This is Santiago. You would trust him with your life. You have.

I could take care of you, flashes through your mind again. Maybe-

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to act calm when there’s a steady thrumming under your skin. “And are you the tied up person, or do you do the tying?”

Santi scoffs, like he thinks the answer is obvious. Maybe it is.

“I do the tying.”

You smirk, dragging an exaggerated eye up and down his body. “Sure about that?”

He looks relaxed, like he can take up more space now Frankie has gone. One of his hands is on your calf, gently trailing up and down, slowly setting you on fire, and you don’t even think he realises he’s doing it. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t recognise, darker, although it seems familiar. That’s been happening more and more lately, especially when it’s just the two of you. You like it.

“You want to test me babygirl?”

You feel breathless. “Maybe I’d like to try.”

You’ve never spoken with Santi like this before. You flirt with him more than the other boys, but this is new. This feels...real, somehow. More dangerous. And he’s closer now, shifting, so your foot is over his lap, his hand wrapped around your ankle, on your bare skin and you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You watch his hand move on your leg and you feel like you could evaporate.  

“That’s not what good girls do.” Fuck, his voice.

“Good girls don’t do a lot of things I do.”

And you’re not sure what gives you the sudden confidence, but you lean forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. It’s a horrible angle, your legs in the way, but you don’t care.

And then you’re retreating, opening your eyes again, suddenly unsure of what you’ve just done. Your mouth feels tingly, where you can still feel Santi against you. His grip has tightened on your leg, no longer moving.

And then his hand is tugging at you a little, and there’s a smile threatening to take over his face.

Come here.

You scoot up, so your left leg is fully over him, your right leg tangling with his under the table and you can smell him now, beer and - as weird as it sounds - like a man. It’s familiar. Nice. Breathless, you shoot him a little grin, suddenly unsure.

And then he’s kissing you again and it’s everything you ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, but firm, moving against your mouth, contrasting with the slight stubble growing on his face. His free hand moves to your waist and you let out a small sound.

You break apart after a second, both of you breathless. You’ve slung your arms around his neck, fingers idly playing with his chain, and you’re the first to speak.

“So do you use those handcuffs on anyone?”

Santi kisses you again, short and sweet, before he answers, his lips mumbling against yours. “Hmm, just on girls I really like.”

You kiss again, neither of you really wanting to stop. “Can I use them on you?” Santi asks, moving to kiss along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. You feel surrounded by him, he’s all you care about, all you can feel.

Your eyes snap open, desire pooling in your belly. Is this really happening? “Yes.”

“Good.” Santi’s voice is still low in your ear, before he moves down your neck, soft lips a stark contrast to his stubble catching on your skin. “How do you feel about a date, too?”

“Yeah?” You lean back slightly so you can see his face. He’s beautiful in this light, face half hidden in the shadows, eyes dark.

His lips are brushing yours again.

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up, take you somewhere nice, do it properly.”

“Good,” you mumble against him, “that sounds really good.” Your fingers are still playing with his chain, lightly brushing against the scar on his neck. “Shall we go?”

Before you know it, the two of you are sitting in a cab, having said a quick goodbye to the others, Will asking if it was safe for them to sit back in the booth. You’d responded with the finger, not bothering with a proper reply.

Santi leans over to you, whispering into your ear. “Can I really tie you up?”

You clench your thighs together, closing your eyes in an effort not to physically respond. The pause is enough for Santi to hesitate, hand shyly holding yours. “It’s ok, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, it was just a-”

You stop him with a kiss, moving your hand so you can squeeze him in reassurance. When you answer, it’s a mumble against his mouth so the driver doesn’t hear. “Break out the handcuffs, and we’ll see if you’re as tough as you act, big boy.”

Santi groans when you lean away from him.

Getting inside Santi’s flat is a feat in itself, and you’re honestly a little proud of the restraint both of you showed by not fucking in the stairwell, stopping every couple of meters to kiss each other senseless, hips clumsily knocking together as you rile each other up.

You’ve been inside his flat before, so when Santi kicks the door closed, walking you backwards into his bedroom, kissing you all the while, you don’t protest. It’s so nice to finally kiss Santi like you’ve wanted to for a while now, so nice to feel his hands on your waist, pushing you backwards while his hips press into yours, steady now, purposeful.

His fingers are playing with the waist of your trousers, and you help him, shimmying your jeans off, pushing them down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. Then he surprises you, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your knickers down your legs.

Looking down, you feel dizzy from the rush of power this brings you. Santi looks like he’s about to worship you, his face close to your pussy. His hands are on your waist and he pushes at you, encouraging you to step back.

When you don’t he tips his head back, exposing his neck to you. “Step back.” His voice is dangerous and you can feel more wetness gathering between your legs. You grin down at him, still not moving.

In response Santi nips at your thigh, grinning when you gasp, hands flying to his hair. He pushes at you again, and this time you let him, stepping back until you hit his bed, sitting down.

Santi presses his hand against your stomach, and you allow yourself to be pushed back, falling back onto your elbows so you can watch him. He presses his nose to your mound and you squirm, impatient, as Santi spreads your knees so he can fit between your legs.

You watch him press his nose to your pussy, burying his nose in you, feeling yourself grow wetter. “You taste so good,” he groans, “Sweetest pussy I’ve tasted.” As he begins to explore you with his tongue, your hips lift off the bed with a groan and it takes you a second to recognise your own voice, broken with need. Santi’s arm reaches out, pressing you down as he explores your folds. Stubble is scratching your thighs, a pleasantly rough feeling compared to the soft wetness, the pliability of Santi’s tongue. Your clit is the first thing he concentrates on, his tongue practically lapping at you, and it all feels so good.

One hand is desperately fisting the sheets to the side of you as you try to hold on to reality, the other knotted in Santi’s short curls, nails scraping ever so slightly along his scalp even as he lifts you higher and higher. Broken pleas of his name fall from your lips when he inserts two fingers into you, gently pumping in and out, with a strangely satisfying squelch under your cries.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and unsuspecting. One second your chest is heaving, breaths short and shallow, the next you’ve tensed up as you fall apart under Santi.

He keeps kissing you, gently pressing his lips over your thighs, hips, stomach as you stare at his ceiling, willing rational thought to return to you. He’s murmuring praises into your skin, telling you how good you are for him, what a good job you’ve done, how pretty you look when you come, how he wants to make you do it again, and all the while you float somewhere above your body, hardly daring to believe this is real. Santi keeps kissing you, any skin he can get his mouth on, desperate to keep tasting you. Gradually he moves up your body, even as you lie there, panting, letting him push your top up, bunching under your arms and around your neck.

Your hands fly to his hair when he bites the soft skin of your breast peeking out from your bra, and you arch your back towards him slightly, letting out a small whine. You can feel his smirk against you, so you wrap your legs around his waist, canting your hips up, grinding against where you can feel him, hard and aching in his jeans.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, slow and lazy when Santi lets out a low growl in response. He tips his head up so he can look at you, his eyes soft as he smiles at you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

And then his body weight is gone and he’s standing next to the bed, taking his top off and it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, of course it isn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him and been allowed to look, and Santi’s all shadows and soft muscle, pale scars highlighted on his skin.

You sit up, and it takes you a second to fight your way out of your top, quickly sliding the straps of your bra off, and dropping your clothes to the side of the bed as you watch Santi cross his room, and fish out a pair of handcuffs from a box with a couple of other objects inside, as well as what you’re pretty sure looks like a strap-on. And maybe it’s because his ass is currently in your eye-line, maybe it’s the surprise, but the image of you wearing it, teasing Santi with your dick while he waits on all fours on his bed, begging for you to touch him, suddenly pops into your head, and you have to work to hold back a moan at the mental image. Oh my god.

When Santi turns back to you, he’s opened the cuffs. “Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

You suddenly feel nervous, your mouth dry, and you don’t know why, this is Santi. He’s made it clear that you don’t have to do this, and anyway you want to. “Green is good, orange is slow down, red is stop,” you recite easily, and Santi nods in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he says and his words hit deep in your stomach, unfurling something you hadn’t known existed. “You say something and I’ll untie you.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back on your hands, eyeing up the way Santi’s jeans are still on, now hanging low on his hips, exposing a small trail of hair down from his bellybutton. “What if I don’t want you to untie me?” You ask.

You can see how his eyes darken, but he doesn’t move. “Tell me you understand,” he says, voice stern and you shiver.

“I understand,” you parrot. Santi nods, pleased at you doing as he says, and steps out of his jeans, pulling his boxers off at the same time, releasing his cock. He’s hard, curving up towards his stomach and leaking pre-cum.

Almost on instinct, you lean forwards to lick it off, and Santi lets out a groan of satisfaction at the sensation of your mouth just wrapping around his head, your hands on his thighs. Before you can take him any further, he’s stepping back, shaking his head.

“Lie back,” he instructs, and you obey. Santi kneels next to you, tugging your wrists up, above your head, looping the handcuffs through his headboard and clicking them on around you. You give them an experimental tug, biting back a moan when they hold fast. “Colour?” Santi asks, and you grin up at him.

“Green.” Your voice already sounds broken. “Santi, please.”

Santi just kneels back, looking at you with those hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out, hands running up and down your body, ignoring how you squirm as best you can under him.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “Why don’t you come down here then, instead of just watching me?” Santi’s hands reach your breasts, squeezing and gently massaging and you arch your back towards him.

“You’re unhappy with my hands?” Santi returns, and stops touching you. You can’t help it, letting out a whine and straining to move your arms towards him, before remembering you can’t, your attempted movement jangling the chain a little.

“No, Santi,” you’re desperate for him to touch you again, especially now you can’t touch him,“Santi please, touch me again, touch me more.” Begging has never come so easily to you. And then Santi’s moving between your legs, gripping your hips and thrusting up, but not into you, just along your folds. You moan, shifting as best as you can while Santi coats himself with your slick, the head of his cock just pushing your clit, teasing you and riling you up further.

You suddenly really want to touch him, to rake your hands through his hair, to scratch your nails down his back, to be able to suck a purple hickey into his skin. You let your head fall back to the bed, pushing your hips towards him, desperate for more, desperate for him.

It’s only when you open your mouth in a desperate plea, a whine of his name, “Santi, Santi please,” that he begins to push into you.

Your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, just as Santi begins to talk. “Fuck, baby.” The stretch of him is delicious. “I wanted this for so long.” Now fully seated in you, he rests on his forearms, kissing you softly, first on the forehead, then on your lips. “Colour?” he asks softly.

You nearly cry from how sweet it is, how sweet he is, before responding, a mumble against his lips. “Green.” You feel full, like this is how you’re supposed to feel all the time, this is your base state, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life trying to achieve this specific feeling.

“Good girl,” Santi murmurs and you keen at the praise, feeling insatiable, wanting more, clenching around him. He grins, registering your response. “You liked that? You like being told what a good job you’re doing, how good you feel around me..” he breaks off with a gasp, and your eyes close as Santi begins to move in time with his words, long, slow thrusts as he begins to put you together again, building you up, further and further, his thrusts speeding up gradually, the sound of his dick sliding into your wetness, and the slap of skin-on-skin loud in his room, mixing with your moans.

You lift your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, hooking one of your feet around Santi’s butt. They don’t stay there for long, one of Santi’s arms pushing one leg up your body, hand under your knee as he splits you open. The new angle hits something deeper in you, and you gasp, unable to move and at the mercy of Santiago.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, coming out of nowhere, your lower body suddenly clenching around Santi, arms straining against the handcuffs, as you try in vain to touch him. You tumble through it, muscles spasming as you fall under him. He keeps moving into you as you shudder below him, pulling you through with murmured praise and encouragement as another broken cry leaves your throat.

His thrusts start to get sloppier as he goes faster, losing his rhythm slightly and you can tell he’s near his end. As best you can, you start moving your own hips, grinding up to meet him, words of encouragement slipping past your lips. “Santi, you feel so good, are you gonna fill me up?” You coo, pouting a little, tugging your wrists a little for emphasis. “Please Santi, I want to feel you, come in me, please-”

You stop when Santi snaps his hips once more, with a groan of finality and you can feel his cum inside of you as he holds himself there, his cock pulsing within you. He presses a couple more gentle kisses to your neck before sliding out, and you hiss slightly at the pull on your sensitive folds of your pussy.

He leaves for a second, returning with a key and gently releasing your wrists. “Good girl,” he murmurs, massaging your skin. “You did so good for me.”

He helps you sit up, kissing your cheek before leaving again. This time when he returns, he has a wet rag, and a glass of water, which you take a sip from, not having realised how thirsty you were. He gently dabs the rag on the inside of your thighs first, and the two of you watch in slightly morbid fascination as Santi’s cum leaks out of you onto the rag.

“That’s kinda hot,” you comment idly, wondering if Santi fucked all sense of you.

He only laughs, wiping the mess away and cuddling up next to you. “Do you want me to do it again?” he asks as you lean into his arms, his hands wrapping around your wrists to rub circles into your skin.

“Yes,” you answer, probably too quickly but beyond caring.

“Good.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Santi wants to ask you something, so you twist in his arms, kissing along his shoulder. The act feels small, and innocent somehow, despite your states of undress, as you try to reassure him.

“You were right,” you murmur near his ear, “Stranger was where I was going wrong.”

It takes him a second to piece your reference together, but then he grins, and it’s like he hung the sun in the sky. “Yeah? I took care of you?”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, biting back your own identical grin. “Yeah.”

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Tags: @fantasticcopeaglepasta​

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Request: Ignorance (Volturi Leaders x Reader)

Judging by the atmosphere of the room, something was wrong. You turned to your three mates, skepticism all over your face.  "What's wrong?" You asked warily, watching for any changes in your mates faces, even the slightest micro-movement.  “Nothing you need to worry yourself about, my dear.” Aro responded with a reassuring smile. Whilst he was convincing, you didn't buy it. It didn’t take long for the thoughts to creep in, a reminder that you had been here before, in this exact situation. A thought rushed through your head but never left.  “This doesn’t have something to do with Bella...does it?” You asked.  “No.” Aro smiled at you gently.  Again, convincing but you noticed the tiny details within each of your mates and those details led you to believe this was a lie. 

You felt a pang in your chest, you had been here before. It always hurt to know your mates could and would lie to you again and again.  “Why are you lying to me?” You had visibly faltered, hurt etched across your face. You were met with silence at first.  “Why would you think that?” Caius responded.  “Marcus looks like he just kicked a puppy, you are trying to will me to believe Aro with your eyes alone and Aro has a particular smile when he lies.”   "It's a private matter." Aro responded.  "A private matter? So of course I wasn't included." You said with a cold smile. 

As you began to turn away, Aro responded.  "We can tell you later-"  "No. It's fine. We all know you won't. Don't let me interrupt." You interrupted him with a forced smile. Marcus was the next to speak. "No, (Y/N), we'll discuss-" Once again you interrupted, if you had to hear their excuses or empty promises again, you’d make Alec take away your senses for good. "No, how about you don't bother and neither will I." "If you want to be treated like an adult, (Y/N), then I advise you stop acting like a child." Caius’ words made you freeze mid-step and your blood boil. So much so, you had no doubt every vampire in the castle sensed it. 

You had once made a comment that the three treated you like a child, whether it was the age gap or the fact you were human, you didn't appreciate it. You wanted them to trust you as you trusted them and instead they hid things from you under the pretences that you wouldn't understand. However, you swallowed back your rage, sending Caius a blank stare. 

“We have received word from one of the Denali coven that the Cullen’s have created an immortal child.” Aro declared. Caius turned sharply to his brother, clearly displeased that he had revealed the secret. You, on the other hand, looked taken aback.”Bella and...?” You trailed off. Aro nodded.  “You’re sure?” You responded quietly.  “I saw for myself.” Aro assured you. “We’re about to vote on the situation.Perhaps we could use your involvement.” Aro continued. However Caius was quick to let his thoughts known. "They're human, reckless and don't understand, so why allow them a vote? We know what must be done. We do not offer second chances and this is breaking another law. We cannot cloud our judgement because of (Y/N)." 

You used to be good friends with Bella, but that friendship had since fallen away ever since you had met your mates. Although, that was Edwards fault if anyone’s. You’d have likely never met if you hadn't gone to Italy with Bella and Alice. You turned to Caius with another hurt look upon your face. "I...I was going to agree with you." You said quietly. If the Cullen’s had broken the law, then what else could be done? Yet now Caius was treating you like the weakest link, like you’d betray them so easily. You crossed your arms before turning to leave the room.  “(Y/N)-” Aro  was following behind you in seconds and reached out for your arm but you pulled away from his reach. "Don't touch me." You mumbled, this time successfully leaving the room. 

Within a second, Aro was back on his throne with his others. Aro turned to Caius.  “I understand your motives brother but you don’t need to be so harsh.” Aro said icily.  “I’m not going to dote to them like you two. When it comes down to it, I will say what needs to be said. If either of you did the same, perhaps I wouldn’t be the villain.” Caius shot back.  “I’ll go to them.” Marcus said.  “Ah yes, Marcus to the rescue from the evil Caius.” Caius scowled.  “You do it to yourself, Caius.” Marcus said as he stood up. 

You looked up to see Marcus in the doorway of his room, where you had went after the altercation. “Marcus, i’m really not in the mood to do this right now.” You began.  “We didn’t want to upset you. We only had your benefit in mind.”  "No, you hold me at arm's length and then make me feel bad about it. Like I did something wrong when the truth is you don't trust me enough to even give me the chance." You responded sourly. 

Suddenly both Aro and Marcus were behind you.  “You’ve done nothing wrong, cara mia and we do trust you. Of course, we trust you.” Aro explained. “We choose not to involve you because it seems, in our eyes, unnecessary stress on you. It’s our job to do this but that doesn’t mean it’s you must endure it.”  “It’s not your job to shelter me!” You turned, arguing back. “I’m so tired of this!”  “Tired of what, cara mia?” Aro pressed, knowing something else was bothering you.

You tended to bottle things up and eventually the emotions overflow from the even the smallest of changes at times. "I am tired of it being three against one. I am tired of only existing when it's convenient to you. I am tired of making excuses for him and I'm tired with you assuming that I won't leave all three of you!" You said loudly making the two men pause. You had never mentioned leaving before and it had never even crossed their minds on what to even think if you ever brought it up, never mind do. Aro seemed to clam up, his expression unreadable whilst Marcus looked almost terrified.   "Don't say things like that! You don't mean it!" Marcus pleaded slightly. You stared at him. You sighed. Once again leaving the room. However only Marcus’ followed you this time.  "I'm trying to talk to you!"  "I don't want to talk!" You snapped back, storming into Caius’ room this time.   "(Y/N), I love you- we love y-" You interrupted Marcus.  "Don't say that!" You snapped. 

That was your weakness and you loved them more than you could describe but you couldn’t go ignored. They couldn’t wish it away with those three little words. You couldn’t look at Marcus who looked absolutely heartbroken.  “You’re pulling away.” He said quietly. “I can see it...you’re pulling away from us.” You said nothing and Marcus left the room. 

An hour passed and Caius entered the room briskly, Aro and Marcus remaining at the door. “You two, leave. (Y/N) and I need to have a conversation alone.”  “Excuse me?” You responded.  "You're angry with me and releasing your anger on them. Be that adult and if you have something to say. Say it!" Caius turned to his brothers. “Get out.” "It drives me mad that you overlook everything I feel and do whatever is convenient for you! And you win! Every time, you always get your own way!" You said almost immediately.  “It drives me to madness that I have to be careful with what i say because you assume the worst of me.” Caius shot back.   "I hate that you make me feel so inferior!" You said louder, the anger rising in you once more.  "I hate that you're so naive you fail to realise that I do this because you mean more to me than anything else! I want you to be happy, I want you to be protected!" Caius scowled. “I hate that you will drag out every situation until you win. Even now, you’re winning!” You argued back. Caius looked at you incredulously. “Don't you understand!? I've already lost! I'm losing you right now! Everything I have ever done is to protect you because if you're gone I won't be able to survive it! I'd rather you hated me and were safe than dead and loving me!" You moved closer, growing exasperated. "Caius, why don't you understand that there is other ways? I love you. I love all of you but everyday it's a tag team against me!" "You don't understand how much of a blessing you are and at the same time how stressful it is to know that any tiny little movement could hurt you!" Caius said flatly.  You stared at him and Caius sighed. “You’re so stubborn.” Caius shook his head. "You won't want to hear it."  "That's never stopped you before." You responded quietly. Caius sighed again. "I don't want to involve you. I fear that if I do and something hurt you...I can't fix it."  “That deci-”  "I don't want to force you to make any decisions! If you did, I couldn't live with you hating yourself. So if I did it and you hated me for it, I can live with that!" You were at a loss for words. Dumbstruck by Caius’ words. He had never been so vulnerable with you to actually admit his fears, especially involving you.  “I want you to be loved and i want you to be happy. I cannot without a doubt expose you to these things and believe you wouldn’t be affected.” “Caius...” You pleaded, tears welling in your eyes. “I lost my friend for you. i haven’t contacted anyone in months since coming here. Bella was my best friend and i lost her. I gave her up for you. It might hurt, but it hurts more knowing that the three people i gave everything up for, are holding me at arms length.” You took hold of Caius’ arms who said nothing as you continued. “I am willing to face all of that, if it means i have you three with me. I can face all of it. I am willing to face it all if it means i get to keep you at my side. I don't want you hiding things from me, or pushing me away. That hurts more than any of it.”  

A blur of black in the corner of your eye catch your attention. Once again Marcus and Aro were at the door. Meanwhile, Caius stared down at you with a surprisingly soft expression.  "The truth is that we don't tell you a lot of things...but that doesn't mean we want to hurt you." Marcus spoke up. "Listen," You said softly, tugging Caius' hand and looking over at Aro and Marcus. "You will never have to worry about me leaving. I could never leave you behind." You turned your gaze to Caius, stepping closer to him. "Look at me." You whispered and Caius' gaze shifted. "Never." You promised him. "There have been so many more good times than bad and none of them could keep me from you." You closed the distance with a kiss that Caius was just as willing to return. One of his hands moving to your cheek. Even Marcus couldn't hold back a smile when you reached out towards them, beckoning for them. You broke the kiss to declare. "If you two don't hug me in the next three seconds I will cry."

[dreamygeorgenap-archive]

Theory/ long post time :D

Hello again! I am back with a brainrot stronger than ever because of that one conversation Dream and George had about valentines, I am certain we all know what that is.

First I want to mention that Dream indeed started the conversation as a joke, the continuation of the “haha George rejected me” bit, as we can tell from him slamming his desk. What was far away from what Dream intended was George’s reply, which was quote, “You didn’t mean it though”

I would assume Dream was probably expecting George’s usually relaxness as the answer, a chuckle? Him being sassy? Rejecting him even harder? These are the possible replies, but George chose to go with an half-confrontation about his shipbait/joke.

“You didn’t mean it” from his voice tone and rushness of it all, I would guess he meant “you aren’t genuine when asking me that, its all just jokes.”

Why? I ask myself, I remember us discussing how Dream doesn’t enjoy others making fun of dnf, or making dnf jokes a lot. Examples can be seen in jackbox streams. The reason we all throw was because dnf was essentially the core of his friendship/chemistry between George, others making fun of it would be like downgrading their bond, so he seem to got defensive, protective.

What I got from this is George is the same, except he’s fine with others milking the dnf jokes, he’s a laid back chill guy, he doesn’t let jokes get in the way of their bond, because he knows and trusts his best friend. What he may dislike, is Dream making dnf bait, well lately at least.

Let me explain, George may be getting a little frustrated about these type of jokes because he wants Dream to mean it, on screen, he doesn’t want Dream to compliment him, speak to him in his sweet voice with him just because the entertainment purposes, he wants Dream to actually put the meaning behind his words, his actions. Understandibly he wants confirmation, he said you didn’t mean it for the valentines bit, but I felt like he was speaking for the general, “you don’t mean it when you do these things”, it’s normal for him to think this way.

And Dream says, he “means it” completely, and I have the feeling George doesn’t believe it, the breathy chuckle he let out while repeating himself saying “he doesn’t mean it”, proves it to me. So he asks, what does it mean to be Dream’s valentine? What does that mean if he even meant those words? Well, to his luck our romeo over here doesn’t seem to thought that far ahead, getting this outcome of the silly little bit. So he logically says nothing, “maybe next year” . End of rhe conversation. I indeed felt like that conversation they had was definitely should’ve been handled in private.

But what I think George doesn’t realise Dream is, in fact, meaning what he says or does. Well, not the valentine bit as romantic as someone might perceive, he meants it. You can’t fake the fondness of someones voice, you can’t fake the obvious smiles they have when talking to eachother, you can’t fake the fact they synced their sleeping schedules, despite living an ocean away from eachother. You can’t fake the giggles, you can’t fake how they are their favourite person in that room. You can’t fake it all.

They are platonic soulmates, i don’t care or cannot know how their relationship with each can grow or develop, but I can know their bond goes beyond their friendship. As their own words, they just “link”. Like two puzzle pieces, a perfect match.

I’m just still cannot believe they had such a conversation live on stream. They need to communicate asap.

Well, this was it from me, I’d love to heat other peoples opinions! Writing this was lots of fun :]

-⚜️

Hello! I always enjoy reading your big brain analysis’! It’s definitely a very interesting clip. 

Dream not liking the dnf milking jokes in games like Jackbox and George being fine with it, even participating himself, but not liking when Dream lies/baits/ makes the jokes himself is a great point that I had never thought. These two are perfectly opposite as always. 

I think you’re definitely right that Dream started joking with the slamming of his arms, but when George started to say “you didn’t mean it” Dream’s voice  definitely changed. I think above all else, he wanted George to know that he wasn’t lying or making fun of him. Truth is very important to Dream - see the Detective Dream stream - and he wants George to know that he isn’t lying, that he cares about George without all the joking. He wouldn’t mess with George or embarrass George in that way. 

You’re right they can’t fake their soft voices when the other joins the call or Dream just randomly mentioning George when he isn’t around or Dream joining the calls almost immediately to take George’s attention off Quackity. Especially if you compare it to how Dream reacts with Sapnap, it is just different. All of it cannot be faked. 

They are definitely platonic soulmates, two halves of the same whole. I definitely think that if they ever drift apart - which I don’t see happening but if - I always see them finding each other again and being just a great as friends as they were before they drifted. I believe they were always meant to find each other. We are so lucky to be able to view such a bond. 

[melanie-adia-of-the-multiverse]

Rainbows After The Tempest: Chapter 1

Summary: Even the best of relationships hit a snag once in a while. The important thing to keep in mind is how to untangle the knot and move forward.

Part 3 of Light and Tenderness Verse

Chapter 1 of 5

Pairing: Logicality

Word Count: 4,355

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, anger, shouting, implied/referenced arguing, spiraling thoughts, precarious handling of a sharp weapon (courtesy of Remus), hurt feelings, distress

AO3 Link

Part 1: AO3 Tumblr

Part 2: AO3 Tumblr

Author’s Note: Salutations. I hope you all have been well. To avoid the pitfalls I fell into with my last story, I endeavoured to be more organized which I was able to do by drafting up a general outline to follow, mapping out some visual guides and setting up writing deadlines to keep me on track. As I was planning out the story, my instinct told me to make it a multi-chapter fic. It was a thought both exciting and daunting to me, as I’d never done it before. But once I started writing, I realized that this was the right format for this story to be told. Plus I have a particularly special reason for posting this fic, which I will disclose in the last chapter. Until then, I hope you enjoy it.

P.S. Individual chapters will have their own warnings as needed.

Next

Virgil rose up in the common room of the Mindscape, his face pale and pinched. His whole body was fraught with his very namesake: crackling beneath his skin, lacing in and out of his muscles and pulling tight to the point of being painful, hands trembling uncontrollably. Torn between fleeing to the comfort and safety of his room and being unable to move from where he stood.

After a moment, he literally shook himself out of his agitated state, flapping his hands vigorously to get out as much nervous energy as he could before blowing out a large breath of air. Then the anxious Side speed-walked to the couch and sat down. He pulled his feet up onto the seat cushions, tucked his legs in, then flipped his hood over his head before finally wrapping his arms around himself and curling into himself a bit.

How the hell was it possible for something to go from zero to a thousand all in the span of seconds?

It had started out like a normal session of ’What is Thomas’ crisis of the week?’, with all Sides present in Thomas’ living room: Roman and Remus in front of the TV, Patton in front of the blinds, Janus between the blinds and the couch, Logan next to the banisters and Virgil in his usual spot on the landing, with Thomas in the middle as always. The topic of discussion had been broached, which happened to be about Nico, Thomas’ latest crush. After a chance meeting at the mall, a monumental feat (though not as monumental as the fact that Thomas had gone to an actual mall), he and Thomas had been texting and hanging out intermittently for a few weeks now, with a little bit of awkward flirting here and there and some close intimate calls. After taking the time to get to know him better, Thomas found that he really liked Nico, and thoughts of taking whatever their friendship-relationship was to the next level had started flitting around his head, refusing to leave. So, he’d summoned his Sides into the real world for a talk on what to do.

Everyone had chimed in in their usual way. Roman immediately started proclaiming that grand gestures were the way to go for declarations of love while Remus butted in with inappropriate innuendo. Virgil put in his two cents on taking a more cautious approach to avoid potential humiliation before stepping back and letting the other louder Sides lead the conversation the rest of the time. Janus interjected his usual sarcastic commentary both on the other Sides’ comments and Thomas’ responses while also checking in to make sure that Thomas was really thinking through on what he wanted. And Logan and Patton –

Actually, that was the thing that had tipped Virgil off to the notion that something was off. During the whole meeting, the representations of Thomas’ mind and heart had both kept unusually quiet. Usually, Logan would be providing a pragmatic approach on what to do, even though it wasn’t his realm of expertise. And with Patton, this was clearly a matter of the heart, the very reason for the moral Side’s existence, so he would be coming up with suggestions on how Thomas could go about the matter with sincerity and empathy.

But…neither of them had given any counsel.

Patton had stood silently in his spot, one of his hands fidgeting with one of his hoodie sleeves hanging over his shoulders and mashing his lips together, eyes flitting continuously to the Side standing across from him, which was Logan.

And Logan…

Logan had been straight-backed and formal as always with his arms crossed over his chest, but Virgil noticed how tightly tucked in Logan’s arms were from their usual loose hold, as well as his furrowed brow and pursed lips. Logan clearly didn’t want to be there at all. Which, Virgil could understand, having been in that position many times before when all he’d wanted to do was run away and couldn’t.

But the thing was, Logan’s grumpy disposition had been like this for about two weeks and counting now. He’d taken to holing himself up in his room, citing work as his reason. The few times anyone ever saw him, which was during meals and movie nights, Logan stayed silent throughout the gatherings save for curt responses to any questions directed at him. Patton was the only one who saw more of Logan than the others; he was often the one allowed to enter Logan’s room to let him know when it was time to eat or coax him to join in on movie night. But it seemed that not even he could assuage whatever inner storm was rumbling within Logan.

Virgil had seen how it was starting to affect Patton as well. Even as they sat next to each other during meals or movie nights, Logan had continued to be standoffish and stiff while Patton sat there awkward and subdued, keeping a small distance between them and his trademark grin nowhere in sight. The fact that they hadn’t had their weekly date night during all that time either – at least, that’s what Virgil thought, since they usually hung out in the common room during their dates, and when he’d gone downstairs during those times lately, they’d been nowhere in sight – made it all the more worrisome.

Virgil had wondered long and hard about what had happened to turn Logan sour, and he didn’t dare approach Logan when he was like this. Sure, Virgil knew what it was like to be in a bad mood and to not want anyone trying to talk to him, but with him it was kind of expected. After innumerable instances when he’d snapped at the others when they got too close – an awareness that made him feel both ashamed and guilty – everyone had learned to back off and leave Virgil alone until he was feeling less likely to chew someone’s head off. He was trying to be better about it, and though Patton still checked in on him from time to time as a parental-ish figure would and Logan was still a godsend to him for panic attacks and the like, much like how Roman had started going to him when he hit a creative slump or needed to vent about any deep-seated insecurities, Virgil started doing the same with Roman for himself. And thus, trust and closeness built between them as Virgil practiced being open about his worries, a far cry from the antagonistic relationship they started out with, and he was thankful for it.

But while Virgil’s fury ran pure electric, spiking in the need to flee, to fight, to survive, when Logan was angry…it was unpredictable. As the face of neutrality in the gestalt that was Thomas, Logan always sought to maintain an even countenance at all times, able to be unruffled by any setbacks. He was the ‘serious’ one, the Side who was the steadfast foil to the others’ unbridled chaos. Unfortunately, this rigid, perfectionist inclination led Logan to become a natural at repressing his emotions, second only to Patton. In his perception, emotions weren’t needed in logical reasoning and rational thought so it was expected for Logic to do without (though Virgil and everyone else had always argued otherwise and would continue to). On the other hand, Patton – as the source of Thomas’ empathy and carefreeness – was able to express emotions freely, despite his own bad habit of expressing only the good emotions. A double standard if Virgil was thinking honestly (and it wasn’t a slight at Patton either, just an observation).

So, Logan never learned how to deal with emotions properly and just let them fester inside. A cold simmer. Hardened fractals fighting against heat. Bitter grudge roiling and churning at a ceaseless pace before reaching a boiling point. Logan could snap into fiery ire at the slightest provocation – like when he threw the paper ball at puppet Roman – or maintain an icy air for days, like now. And the inconsistency made it both tricky and daunting.

There was one incident Virgil was aware about that served as the only clue as to why Logan was upset. When he shared his worries about what was going on with Roman privately, the prince hadn’t been as concerned as he was. However, Roman did mention offhandedly that he’d overheard Remus telling Janus something about how he’d managed to mess around with both Thomas and Logan, and it all had to do with Nico. So, against his better judgment, Virgil sought out the intrusive Side to inquire about what happened, and – after going through his usual schtick enough to raise Virgil’s hackles – Remus gleefully recounted the whole story. 

What had happened was, Thomas had sent a heartfelt text to Nico which ended up being left unread for the better part of a day, and so the poor man had been feeling on edge all day, distraught by the apparent disregard. Logan had tried to be understanding and flexible with Thomas’ low mood while also attempting to get him to focus on his household chores. But Remus – chaotic rat gremlin man that he was – had taken to Thomas’ upset state with relish and spent all of the time torturing Thomas with reasons why Nico hadn’t said anything, thereby successfully distracting Thomas from his tasks despite Logan’s efforts. And then, just when Logan managed to fend Remus off and tried once more to wrangle Thomas into doing something like laundry or dishes, Nico finally replied back with an apology for the late reply, a valid reason why and an equally heartfelt sentiment back along with an invitation to attend an outdoor art exhibit. Thomas had happily accepted and run off, leaving behind a still-messy house and a frustrated Logan.

Virgil vaguely remembered that day. He’d stayed in his room the whole time but checked in periodically to make sure Thomas stayed safe, like when something tasted ‘screwy’ in Thomas’ breakfast oatmeal or when he realized with horror that Thomas had left the back porch door unlocked overnight. Then he and the others had joined Thomas on his excursion, watching from afar as he took in the outdoor art and chatted and laughed with Nico. Everyone had been relaxed and happy. Everyone, except Logan. Virgil had noticed Logan’s chilly demeanour then but didn’t think much of it, chalking it down to either fatigue from working all day or being disgruntled about doing something that wasn’t considered productive. His chest twinged in guilt at his past indifference.

But he was still puzzled as to why that particular incident would greatly affect Logan to this degree. The logical Side had been brushed aside before – not that that made it okay – so why was this leaving him so livid? Well, if Virgil was connecting the dots well enough, the central issue in all of this seemed to be Nico. He realized that whenever Nico was brought up, Logan’s mood would sour, and only lift when the topic was changed. Because Thomas was focusing a lot on Nico, his attention was being drawn away from other things like household chores and stuff – which were pertinent to Logan – and it was starting to get on the logical trait’s nerves. And that was why, since then, Logan’s bad mood had continued up until now.

Which brought them to today, to this meeting. And since they were discussing Nico, Logan’s apparent irritability – though still yet seemingly unnoticed by everyone else apart from Virgil and Patton (based on his body language) – had only grown.

Virgil's innate pessimism told him that this wasn’t going to end well.

It was right at that moment when Thomas then turned to Logan – whether because he’d finally noticed himself that Logan wasn’t saying anything or he’d been ignorant himself the whole time, it was up for debate – to ask him his opinion.

And Logan brushed him off coldly. 

Thomas, bewildered but now seeing how upset Logan was, tried to cajole him. 

But Logan was unmoving, unwilling.

Then Patton himself, at last, had tried speaking to Logan, quietly yet gently.

And Logan had snarled: 

“Stay out of this! You’re not the Messiah! Stop trying to fix everything!”

The air in the room got sucked into a vacuum, leaving behind a lingering aether of shock, disbelief and…fear.

Because of the look on Patton’s face when Logan snapped at him.

Because of the look on Logan’s face when he realized what he’d done, what he’d said.

Virgil had taken one look between Patton and Logan –

And fled.

And now he was cowering on the couch, unable to stop his fingers from twisting themselves into numerous new pretzel shapes and his shoulders hunching up almost to his ears. He became aware for the first time that he was still wearing his sneakers, violating the ‘no shoes on the couch’ rule. But for once, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered compared to what was going on.

Before long, Virgil heard someone else rise up in the space, and he looked up to see Roman, his handsome face creased with concern.

For a moment, neither said anything, unsure and too overcome with worry about what was happening.

Roman opened his mouth –  

Right when a barrage of furious thrums from outside the Mindscape pitched in volume.

Virgil and Roman’s heads snapped up towards the ceiling in alarm, the erratic hums pulsing in their ears. They were able to pick up the impression of a distressed tenor warbling unsteadily to intermittent crescendos, a restrained bass keeping consistently at low, trembling beats, and a jumpy baritone hiccupping erratically at sharp staccatos.

Due to some unexplainable, acoustical quirk, any conversations that took place outside the Mindscape were muffled and indistinct, allowing whoever was talking privacy and whoever was left behind some level of comfort if the topics were uncomfortable. If they had been real and living in a house of their own, it was the equivalent of hearing people talking in the apartment above them. If a Side really wanted to, they could tap in mentally to better listen to the conversation, and for a brief second Virgil was tempted to check in, but his dislike of confrontation was enough to stop him.

There really was no need to tap in. 

It was clear what was happening.

Patton and Logan were fighting. And Thomas was caught in the middle.

Both Virgil and Roman tore their focus away from the ceiling and exchanged uneasy looks with each other, before Roman let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his immaculate locks.

“By the blessed memory of Jim Henson, this is turning into quite a quandary.”

Virgil leaned back further into the couch. “You can say that again.”

“If this keeps up, it’ll become like a typical day of the Muppet Show!”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “You mean, filled with chaos, things going wrong, and at least one instance of a Muppet getting karate-chopped into the wall by Miss Piggy?”

“Yeah!” Roman nodded. Then his brow furrowed thoughtfully before he added on: “Well…at least with the first two. Although…”

Virgil shook his head firmly before Roman could finish. “Logan and Patton would never do that to each other. You know that.”

“I know. It’s just…”

Roman looked back up towards the ceiling, the worry on his face deepening.

Virgil understood. The few times Patton and Logan had argued, it had been for small, insignificant things. Like Logan staying up way too late doing work although he was constantly chiding the others for not following a proper sleep schedule. Or Patton literally getting his hand caught inside the cookie jar trying to snaffle an extra cookie before dinner. Any disagreement they went through was usually resolved with a kiss and a compromise, and they always managed to pull through and move on.

But this…

This was big.

And bad.

What if this time was different?

What if –

Virgil shook his head vigorously to stop the spiral in its tracks. Then he clicked his tongue to get Roman’s attention, who was still staring up at the ceiling. Once Roman’s gaze was on him, Virgil motioned with his head for the fanciful trait to come sit down on the couch with him.

Roman sighed and complied, lacing his fingers together in his lap and staring down at the ground morosely.

Virgil gave Roman a sympathetic look. “It’ll be okay, Princey,” he murmured. “Patton and Logan love each other too much to let something like this get to them.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself, Roman, or both. Probably both. Even he was feeling uncertain.

Roman nodded, but didn’t respond. So, they both sat there in silence, trying to ignore the incessant murmurs of the argument that continued to reverberate both in the Mindscape and their heads.

It had bound to happen sooner or later, the couple’s first major spat. It was expected. No relationship was perfect. And Logic and Morality were profoundly different from each other on a fundamental level, so there would always be a base level of friction between them no matter how much they worked at making their relationship work. But no one in all the time they’d come into existence could recall an argument as fierce as the one occurring between Patton and Logan at that moment.

Sure, there had been the big one between Emotions and Self-Preservation when they were children, which led to everyone upgrading to more mature and complex roles than what they’d held before – though not yet the more permanent roles they embodied now – and the separation into Light and Dark.

Then, of course, everyone had been unwilling bystanders at one point or another in the many explosive rows between Creativity and Logic throughout the years as Thomas found himself drifting from his steady chemical engineering job to a more creative career on YouTube.

And once Thomas was well into adulthood and the Sides started revealing themselves to him one by one, along with their quirks and bonds and baggage, whenever Roman and Remus engaged in battle (both physical and verbal) or Virgil and Janus launched into a snark-off…well, things were lively, that was for sure.

But this fight between Logan and Patton since they’d become a couple nearly three months ago…it was something terrifying and distressing to behold. Or at least listen to, partially.

Clutching his arms tightly, Virgil scrunched up the fabric of his hoodie until he was gripping a good handful of fabric in each white-knuckled fist to give himself something to hold, something to tether him to the present. He mashed his lips together hard and curled into himself more. He really hated this. How did it come to this? What had happened to make Patton and Logan – who were usually so loving and sweet with each other, sometimes to a nauseating degree – suddenly go at each other’s throats? Were they going to break up? Oh god, how was everyone else going to navigate a separation between Sides who couldn’t just leave? Were they going to have to choose sides? Or Sides, even? God, he hated this –

A warm weight on his knee jolted Virgil out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Roman looking at him worriedly. Virgil blinked at the prince then at the hand that was on his knee before exhaling and closing his eyes.

Roman said nothing, but even as he turned his head away, he kept his hand on Virgil’s knee and stroked it lightly with his thumb, and he took it as a good sign when Virgil didn’t shove it off.

Shortly after, another presence rose up in the space, and Virgil and Roman looked up expecting their resident couple. But it was Janus. And he himself looked unusually troubled.

“Jee-muh-nettie,” he muttered under his breath, smoothing out his outfit. “If that isn’t a mess, then I don’t know what is.”

Roman eyed the snake-like Side incredulously. “Wow. Even E-Lies-a Dolittle’s on edge about what’s happening?”

Janus arched an unimpressed eyebrow. “Really, Roman? That’s the name you went with?”

Roman glowered at Janus and threw a hand up. “It was the best I could come up with! B’sides, I’m not exactly in a creative mood at the moment!”

Janus rolled his eyes at Roman’s dramaticism, but, truthfully, he was not all that put-out by what he supposed was intended to be an insulting name by the prince.

“Anyways, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Obviously, things are going peachy-keen, fine-and-dandy upstairs.”

Virgil rolled his own eyes. “Yeah, right. Like you didn’t just pop up in here lookin’ like you’d lost a friend.”

Janus eyed Virgil coolly. “What is it to you if I do?”

Virgil shrugged flippantly. “Nothing. Just don’t go ‘round actin’ like you’re not upset about your two new friends fighting.”

Janus glowered at the emo and tugged at his gloves delicately. “Please. As if I care even a whit about either Morality or Logic.”

Virgil scowled back at him, and both seemed positioned for an argument of their own.

However, before they could, they were interrupted by a confused prince.

“Wait…did you mean morality and logic, or Morality and Logic?”

Deceit and Anxiety turned towards Creativity with bewildered expressions.

“Huh?” they both chorused.

Roman continued. “Were you talking about Patton and Logan with their official titles, or the concepts of logic and morality themselves?”

Virgil blinked at Roman in surprise before his brow furrowed in a thoughtful half-frown. “I think he meant Patton and Logan.”

“Really? Now, see, I thought he was referring more to the concepts.”

Virgil and Roman fell into a debate then, completely forgetting about Deceit. Janus stood there bemused for a moment but then shrugged, thankful that the conversation had moved away from him.

He moved to perch himself on one of the armrests of Logan’s armchair, keeping proper posture and continuing to groom himself with an unaffected air. But, inwardly, Janus was just as worried as the others. Since he built better ties with both Patton and Logan after everything that had happened, Janus secretly hoped for the continued success of their relationship, though he would always deny otherwise. And not just because it meant that Thomas had a better grasp of weighing his heart and mind in his hands for important affairs. But the argument that was currently going on now…even Janus was feeling a little apprehensive.

Then the commotion outside of the Mindscape suddenly dropped to nothing, and an eerie calm followed. Janus sat up straighter and Virgil and Roman instantly ceased their own argument, falling deathly silent.

“I think they’re finally finished,” Janus said quietly. “Everyone, look sharp.”

A schwing sliced through the air, and everyone’s heads whipped towards the top of the couch where Remus was lounging like a French girl and idly turning Roman’s katana in his hand.

“Already prepared!” Remus chirped.

Roman sputtered in mixed bewilderment and indignation at how Remus had managed to paw his sword without his knowledge. Virgil leaned away from the intrusive Side and the sharp weapon with a hiss.

But before anyone else could react, two wooshes sounded off in the middle of the common room, and everyone’s heads – including Remus’ – whipped back forward.

And, sure enough, there – standing a few feet apart from each other – were Patton and Logan.

Logan looked as though he’d been wrung through the wringer: clothes rumpled, hair mussed, shoulders slumped and face drawn, looking at Patton with distraught eyes.

Patton had his hands balled tightly into fists by his sides, his face scrunched up and red, and he was shaking slightly.

The rest of the Sides kept still and quiet in that moment, watching and waiting.

Then Patton started storming towards the stairs.

Logan whipped out a hand and caught Patton by the wrist, preventing him from leaving.

Patton tried to wrench himself out of Logan’s grasp but Logan held on, a desperate look on his face.

“Sweetheart,” he pleaded throatily.

Patton stilled and ceased his struggling, not looking at Logan or anyone else, his expression almost hidden away from everyone. Logan then shifted his hand so that he was holding Patton’s hand properly, though he didn’t do or say anything more than that. Patton gave no indication whether he welcomed or abhorred the tender action.

Everyone held their breath, wondering what was going to happen next. How would Patton react? Was he going to blow up? What was Logan going to say or do? Would he be able to deescalate the situation?

“I –”

Virgil watched Logan’s Adam’s apple convulse as he swallowed, evidently having difficulty with his words. The rational trait was rattled; the argument had clearly affected him. And Patton…poor Patton. He gave off the air of someone who wanted nothing more in the world than to hide away from everyone and everything for all time. Virgil’s heart ached for his two friends, eyes flitting apprehensively between them.

When Logan tried to speak again, his voice was unsteady, saturated with guilt and remorse. Brittle glass on the verge of shattering.

“May…may I come by later?”

Patton stayed silent, unmoving, still not looking at Logan or anyone else.

For what felt like forever, nobody dared move, speak or even breathe. The air was taut with tension, an elastic band on the verge of snapping in half. Even Remus was still, though whether out of genuine respect or morbid anticipation, no one was certain or cared to think about.

Even though Patton’s face was turned away from everyone else, Virgil, from where he was sitting, thought – with a sinking heart – that he could see the beginnings of glistening trails streaking down the moral Side’s cheeks.

Then – happening so quickly if one wasn’t looking for it – Patton gave Logan’s hand a quick, spastic squeeze.

Somehow that seemed to be the answer Logan was looking for, because he finally let go of Patton. 

Once freed, Patton proceeded to dash up the stairs to his room, the sound of his door slamming shut echoing throughout the Mindscape.

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XI

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX - - - - - Part X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Anakin left his first ‘soul healing’ appointment feeling on edge. They hadn’t even discussed anything important! The healer mostly talked at him, giving him rules for future sessions. They had barely touched on the reason he was there, which was both a relief and slightly irritating. ...He was a little uncertain what to do with him time now. 

Obi-Wan hadn’t responded to him at all during his visit that morning, laying motionless in an apparently self-induced coma, and he wasn’t allowed to sit with him again until the evening. He wasn’t allowed to look at anything to do with the war until Mace cleared him. Returning to his and Obi-Wan’s quarter’s was still unthinkable, even though he knew he’d have to go back at some point before Ashoka landed on planet. 

The Chancellor had left him several messages inviting him for a visit, but he was dragging his feet, despite the serious temptation of an always comforting father-figure. The thought of actually seeing the man made him feel practically sick with anger and betrayal. Obi-Wan had been convinced that Palpatine was trying to tear them apart. And while Anakin didn’t quite believe that... he had told Obi-Wan about what he had done after his mother’s death. Maybe someday, when Obi-Wan was better, he would be able to believe it was all for the best, but for now...he was just angry. 

He hadn’t really been angry at the man before, and didn’t enjoy the sensation.

Padme had told him she would be working from home as much as possible the next few days. While he didn’t want to be an annoyance, there wasn’t really anyone else he could turn to for advice or comfort right now, and she seemed almost as desperate for the reassurance of his company as he was of hers...and the Master of the Order seemed to at least tolerate their relationship, even if he didn’t know all the details.

He arrived at her apartment and promptly collapsed on the couch. 

“Is it alright if I join you?” Padme asked softly. 

Anakin smiled at her. “More than alright”

She sat down. He shifted so she could lean against him comfortably.

“Do you want to talk right now, or should I do some paperwork?” she asked neutrally.

He groaned. “It’s- I’m not sure if I’m being immature. Should I go see Palpatine?”

She stiffened. “The Chancellor? I- I thought we had specifically agreed not to talk about him if we could help it. Have his politics started to bother you?” she asked dryly. 

He rolled his eyes. “No, I still believe he’s the best chance for ending the war quickly- you know my friendship with him is personal, not political.”

“This is a personal problem then. Does it...have something to do with Obi-Wan? Are you not supposed to tell him about- what happened?”

“No, I’m sure the council’s already informed him, he is the Chancellor, after all; they would have to tell him if a High General was out of commission,” he replied, a touch bitterly. 

“But it does have something to do with Obi-Wan,” she nudged.

“Yeah. It- he was the one who told Obi-Wan. About me. With the Raiders.” he ground out, suppressing a flash of anger.

“Oh. Oh! I didn’t realize he knew. He- had he urged you to tell Obi-Wan before?” she asked, slightly guilty.

“No!” Anakin snarled back. “He swore to keep it a secret, told me that my revenge was justified.”

“I’m sorry- the Chancellor of the Republic told you that what you did was justified? Padme sounded shocked and Anakin turned to her with wide eyes.

“Do you...you told me you understood...but...we’ve never really talked about it since it happened, have we?” He replied miserably. 

She pulled away, heart pounding. “Anakin...do you think what you did was justified?”

He looked down “At the time I told myself it was...but I don’t know. Even right after...I thought about the kids. You have no idea how much clearer everything seems when your channeling the force with anger even though afterwards...I told myself they were animals but...I...when I was talking to Obi-Wan I realized that...I think I was just scared that if the order ever found out I’d lose everything which made me angry...And the Chancellor agreed that animals sometimes needed to be put down...and you said you understood.” He looked up at her uncertain.

She let out a sigh of relief. Of course Anakin knew his action’s were wrong, if he was so torn up about it. She took his hands in hers, stroking softly. 

“Anakin...I know it’s not exactly the same, but I do understand wanting revenge. I helped personally liberate and clean up many of the trade federation camps. I buried the rotting corpses of my people, who I left to die- then returned back to my office to watch Nate Gunray get out on parole. If someone had handed me the power to kill every single Neimodian at the right moment-” She let out a breath, seething.

“But...no one did. I couldn’t have gotten revenge like that, even if I had wanted to. And now...gods Anakin, understanding why isn’t the same as saying it’s justified- I might still hate the trade federation, but that doesn’t mean that every Neimoidian is guilt of their crime, no matter my personal feelings. I really, truly don’t know what to say about the Chancellor telling you what he did, or keeping your secret, or breaking your trust.”

They sat in silence for a moment as he digested everything.

“I...think I get what you mean about separating out justifying and understanding. Maybe that’s what he meant, and I just wasn’t smart enough to realize what he was saying at the time. I want to ask him, but I’m still mad and... I just don’t want to lose my friend because I’m angry.” he finished unhappily.

She sighed, then pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek. 

“Then tell him that. Leave him a message. A friend would understand holding off a conversation while you’re upset. And a politician should certainly understand holding back your feelings so they don’t dictate your actions.” 

He smiled at her, “How did you get so wise?”

“I was a Queen, you know,” she replied haughtily.

“Oh a Queen, I hadn’t realized, do forgive my impertinence,” he said cheekily, pulling her closer. 

She pushed him back. “Message first. He’s almost certainly in a Senate committee meeting right now, it’s the perfect time.”

He relented. They briefly hashed out what he was going to say. Then she drifted to the other room while he pulled out his mobile official senatorial comm-link, biting his lip nervously.

Much to his dismay, the Chancellor picked up on the last ring, holo opening up.

“Anakin, my boy! So good to hear from you; I had been getting worried. How are you?

Steeling himself, Anakin launched into their prepared monologue.

“Chancellor, you of all people know that I struggle with anger; I’m trying to work on not allowing it to dictate how I act towards those I value. That being said, in the interest of preserving our friendship and until Obi-Wan is fully healed, I think it’s best we avoid unnecessary communications.”

“Anakin! I don’t-” Palpatine tried to reply, but Anakin cut him off.

“Thank you again for your understanding. I will of course diligently reply to any military or professional requests sent through the proper channels.”

Anakin closed the connection with a click, heart pounding. The comm immediately lit back-up.

“What do I do?” he asked Padme, feeling nauseous.

Was this the right choice? Surely his friend would understand. He didn’t want to yell at the Chancellor just because he was still working through Obi-Wan’s issues and his issues with Obi-Wan! Or was he just acting out of fear? Maybe the Chancellor could help.

He started to reach for the comm, but Padme snatched it from the table first. She threw it to the ground, delicately lifted the hem of her dress, then pierced it with the heel of her shoe. It stopped mid trill.

“Let’s go to bed.”

“I love you.” He replied, looking at her adoringly. 

“I know.”

Next (Part XII)