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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

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on my knees (for you).

a/n: more virgin!eddie tales WOOO!! i just can’t shake this little pathetic man and i want to write him being so down bad for ever and ever. thinking of some steddiexreader that includes the little virgin boy too…

this is a continuation to seven minutes in heaven but really can be read on its own, it just mentions events that happened in the first fic.

18+. smut. mentions of weed. eddie being horrifically pathetic again. no mentions of y/n.

eddie’s sure you’ve pavlov’d him.

his cock springs into action the second you appear. and see that wouldn’t be a bad thing except for the fact that he sees you multiple times a day, in class or around campus and it makes him look like a dirty perv.

even now, he’s sat trying to kill it off as you sit next to him eating your lunch. thigh brushing against his every now and again and his mind is going wild. he’s trying to think what would happen if he just lifted you onto the table and fucked the shit out of you right here.

well, in all actuality, he’d probably last all of about ten thrusts before busting a nut and subsequently dying of embarrassment. maybe it’s not wise.

the thing is, now you had this little arrangement with each other, his erections had been ramped up to level ten. and he solely blames you for that, by the way.

he’d never known someone to be so eager all the time. you’re like a fucking rabbit. tearing at his clothes the minute you’re alone already soaking your little panties. eddie had debated swiping some last time he was over but had decided against it at the last minute which he sorely regretted the second he got home.

it had mostly just been a lot of you riding him in an attempt to get him to last longer than just a few minutes so you hadn’t really.. experimented much. he didn’t mind though, getting to stare at your tits bouncing in his face as you fucked yourself on his cock? how could he complain?

your fingers wrap around his knee, leaning in to his ear, ‘i’m free for the next two hours.. what about you?’ ever so slowly traipsing your fingers higher, his cock jumping to attention. not here. please not fucking here.

he’s got steve harrington sat opposite and really does not fancy having to explain to him as to why he’s this hard at lunch time.

it wasn’t like it was a matter of life or death but it was just easier to keep doing this without everyone knowing. because then it becomes a thing and nobody wanted that. eddie’s sure at least some people have gathered what’s happening. especially argyle who had woken up rather confused to find you spooning him on your tiny couch, but had just let out a tiny bro? and fallen right back to sleep.

‘i-i have class,’ tentatively placing his hand on yours to stop it ascending any further. eyeing the other participants at the table. oh fuck. steve definitely knew. looking over with a slight glint of humour in his eye, waiting until you re-emerged from eddie’s ear to say something.

the stupid smug prick. he probably couldn’t wait to humiliate eddie in front of all your friends. then he’d swoop in with his blonde highlights and tinted strawberry lip balm. he couldn’t stand it.

surely you weren’t interested in that? really, eddie is the complete opposite of whatever the fuck that is and there’s no way in hell you’d continue to fuck him if you weren’t a fan.

‘skip class for me?’ you whisper into his ear. for me. for me. fuck. he’d do anything for you. you could’ve told him to flip the table so you could fuck right here and he would’ve.

his breath hitches in his throat but he nods quickly, squeezing your hand and dipping his head low. the bulge in his jeans was fairly obvious at this point but maybe if he got up quick enough no one would be able to tell.

your hand vacates his leg, leaving a burning sensation in it’s wake. you’re shoving your shit into your bag, standing from the shared table. oh you meant now. while over your friends were still here. you were going to walk off together. to your room. oh god. that wasn’t obvious, was it?

‘where are you goin’?’ steve asks, watching intently when you jab at eddie’s shoulder to make him move. he does immediately, grabbing his back pack and determining just how he can slide out of here without showcasing his hard on to the world.

‘we’re going to smoke.. that alright with you?’ you remark, hands poised on your hips. eddie loved it when you were like this. his heart racing faster every time you scolded him or pouted those pretty, plump lips his way.

‘sweet, i’ll come!’ argyle sits up straight, awakened by the mention of weed. of course.

‘no,’ you bark, getting fed up of waiting for eddie to stand up and instead grabbing his collar, yanking at the denim, ‘sorry, closed invitation,’ wiggling your eyebrows at the long haired boy.

this elicits a chorus of ooohs from the table as eddie finally slides from the bench, turning immediately to follow your lead. he felt like a massive loser following you around. if you got him a leash and told him to get on all fours he would. and he likes think that that’s understandable.

‘oh my god they’re so annoying,’ you hush, his legs rushing to catch up with your irritated strides. did he look like such a lost dog to other people? not that he cared much.

‘i know.. it’s steve,’ he replies, realising that there was probably too much venom in that response to pass it off as something casual. yeah, maybe he was still a tiny smidgen jealous that you two had such natural chemistry. he is human after all. anybody would be.

‘he’s an ass but it’s all of them, so nosy,’ you chuckle, linking your arm with his now that you’re out of view of your prying friends.

he had wondered if you were ashamed of him, or to be seen with him at least. it was understandable, you were literally smoking hot and he was.. a pathetic little nerd who was completely obsessed with you. but to stand up and quiet openly lead him off to your room in front of everyone, maybe you weren’t.

‘you’re not like.. ashamed to fuck me, are you?’ regretting it the instant it came out of his mouth. he didn’t want to know the answer really. and even if you were, he wasn’t going to complain. it’s not like girls were falling at his feet, let alone girls as pretty as you.

‘no!’ you hit his arm, expelling the breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding, ‘eddie be serious, it’s not like they don’t all know anyway,’ rounding the corner to your house.

he had snuck in a multitude of times over the last few weeks, in fact it was every day at this point. running up the stairs past nancy’s room, thinking how much easier it would be if you were on the ground floor. then he might be able to shuffle through your window and back out in the early hours.

you fumble for your keys, knowing that the house would be empty at this time and quite proudly let him in the door. he doesn’t reply to your answer because he had assumed that the pair of you were successful at being incredibly sneaky.

‘do you have a problem with it being a secret?’ you ask, the door slamming shut behind you.

oh god no. even if he did, he’d never tell you in fear of ruining it all. the only thing he wanted to do was to rub it into steve’s annoying face. ha ha. this massive loser had gotten into your pants before he had. well, at least he thinks.

‘no,’ it comes out sounding more like a question than a statement, which he chastises himself for straight away. if he had half the confidence any normal person had, he would’ve stopped this conversation in its tracks. shoved you back against the wall or something and shut you up with his mouth.

‘no?’

‘yeah, no,’ he repeats, sounding much more assured in himself.

‘good,’ you mutter and he notices the glint in your eye, hints of a smirk beginning to appear. he blinks and you’re stood before him, eyeing up his lips. his jeans had just got a hell of a lot tighter.

isn’t it crazy that someone’s eyes could have that affect on someone? or actually, how just the sheer presence of them in the room could have someone stumbling over their words.

‘i.. don’t care at all,’ staggered breaths as he’s backed up against the wall, shoulder blade hitting into one of the framed pictures on the wall. he wants to yelp at the pain but instead keeps his eyes solidly on yours.

he’s been practicing you see. watching any and all videos he could find of how to be a dominant man alongside copious amounts of porn and had gathered a bunch of mens help magazines. they were supposed to teach him how to be more strong willed, to flip the upper hand over to him.

except, they’d really done nothing at all. well actually, he’d now discovered that his hand was no longer sufficient compared to the earth shattering orgasms you’d given him. if there was a way for him to bottle that feeling, he’s sure that it’d be more addicting than heroin. probably make more money, too.

‘shall we go upstairs?’ you ask, eyelashes fluttering. yes. god yes. he’s desperate to get upstairs and into your room so he can disappoint you for five whole minutes this time.

‘yes.. yes please,’ his chest rising and falling rapidly. everything he had practiced had gone to shit the second you’d touched him. brilliant.

you simply smirk, grabbing his hand to lead him up the stairs the exact same way you had the last five nights of this week.

shoving him into your bedroom and kicking the door shut behind you. you’re ferocious with it. and he wonders if you needed him as badly as he needed you. he just longed to be inside of you or next to you or just in the same room as you. he needed that feeling pumped into him intravenously.

you’re on him the second the door’s shut, grabbing at his chest, his shirt and his pants all at once. pushing him back towards your unmade bed with such urgency that he stumbles, pulling you on top of him. your lips are everywhere, pecking at his jawline and his neck. going over the violet markings you’d left previously. he was embarrassed about them at first but had quickly learned to appreciate them and the fact that you weren’t afraid to mark him.

you’re shuffling out of your jeans already, kicking them off of your ankle as you rest your knees either side of his thighs. he only notices because the frilly lace waistband of your panties catches against the button on his jeans. are these what you wear normally or is this something you did for him?

a low moan is pulled from his throat when your skilful fingers unbutton his jeans and make their way onto his rock hard cock. did you paint your fingernails for him too? the shimmering violet looked so good wrapped around his cock. he’s sure any colour would as long as it was on your hand.

‘always so hard for me, aren’t you?’ you mutter against his neck, still fondling his sensitive balls. his toes curl in his socks, keeping both feet firmly on the floor in an effort to ground himself.

there’d been a few instances of him cumming.. prematurely. and by prematurely he means, the second you touched him. he blames those times on the weed though. it was the only reasonable explanation.

‘s-sit on my face,’ he blurts out, unaware of what dark hole that had come from.

your eyes narrow, gazing down at him with your mouth hung open. that was definitely the wrong thing to say. he’d seen it in this one video and had started salivating at the thought of your pillowy thighs wrapped around his ears.

eddie hadn’t quite been able to make you cum yet. like, he was certainly making progress and you’d gotten close a couple of times but you had ultimately had to get yourself off. which he loved to watch.. he just wanted to be involved. he lived in pure amazement at how you just seemed to get there so quickly. sometimes it wasn’t even a minute with your hand between your thighs and you were whining and writhing around. how?

‘eds.. that’s- are you sure?’ eyeing him cautiously. why didn’t you just trust him? he’s pretty confident he had the technique down, ashamedly having practiced on his hand one night. yeah, that was awkward.

and the erection it had given him was too.

‘i’m sure.. please,’ he had figured out that as soon as he begged for something, he pretty much got it. maybe you had a fetish for pathetic men or something but all he had to do was plead a little and you were pouncing on him.

‘do you even know-,’

‘-yes i know what to do,’ he barks a little hastily. at least now you’d either punish him or would listen to him. either was fine.

you eyebrows fly up your forehead and he thinks for a second that he’s really in the shit. his cock jumps at the thought of you slapping him again or even better, wrapping your hand around his neck like you’d done the other day. now that really got him going.

‘okay.. but if it’s too much let me know,’ lifting yourself from his waist and shuffling upward towards his head. he’s drooling just thinking about it. wrapping his arms around the backs of your thighs just as the man in the video had. he could keep you in place perfectly like this.

‘come on,’ he sighs, watching as you slide your underwear down and off to the side, stopped just before his eager, salivating mouth. everything he had practiced came down to this very moment and he was more than ready to show you what he’d learned.

‘you’re so bossy now.. i don’t like it,’ frowning down to him, hand coming to hold onto your headboard. he had hoped that you’d pull on his hair again but was for sure not going to ask. ‘remember to tell me if it’s too much.. slap me or something, i’ll know,’ biting down onto your bottom lip.

he nods quickly, eyes sliding away from yours to your pussy poised above him. now, he didn’t have any much experience with pussy but he’d say that yours was perfect.

without wanting to waste anymore time, he pulls you down onto his mouth, tongue immediately lapping at your folds. just the way he’d practiced. he didn’t really have any preconceptions of what pussy would taste like but he’s pleasantly surprised. he’d keep you here all day if he could, who needed to breathe anyway?

‘ho-holy shit,’ you remark, clawing at your bed frame for a little balance. he thinks that’s a good thing, eyes trained on your face to determine whether he was doing this right or not.

his tongue slides up, circling around your sensitive clit. yeah, that’s it. he can tell when your eyes roll into the back of your head, hips stuttering on his face.

‘jesus eddie,’ you breathe, just hearing his name tumble from your lips does fucking wonders for him. it’s all the encouragement he needs to continue his assault on your cunt.

he murmurs something in utter gratitude when your hand leaves the headboard to instead tangle into his hair. mouth vibrating against your pussy which is another hit. the gorgeous sounds of your moans fill the room, only slightly muffled by your legs over his ears.

it’s now or never. he has to pull out the big guns.

tongue leaving your clit to slide into your dripping hole. soaking his chin, his lips and probably his shirt in your arousal. he didn’t mind one bit. it’s like a badge of honour to know that he was responsible for the mess.

‘fuck,’ you hiss, fisting his curls as your eyes squeeze shut. eddie wants to scream when your eyes roll back, his fingers digging into your fleshy thighs.

oh my god. this was paradise. utter heaven. his heart swelling a little knowing that you were cussing fretting because of his mouth. you were so gorgeous from this angle. well, from all angles but particularly this one. looking totally blissed out on top of him, your lips opening to let out the most insatiable noises he’d ever heard.

your fingers yank at his curls, legs trembling around his flushed face, ‘i’m gonna- eds, i’m cumming,’ thighs clamping around his head as your hips roll forward on their own, trying to escape the overstimulation.

eddie’s desperate to keep you there, using his palms to hold you steady while he’s literally making out with your pussy. lapping at your clit, at the juices that now covered his face. except his stomach tightens, slowing his pace until he realises what’s happening.

oh shit.

his hips buck up into the air on their own and his boxers feel incredibly wet and sticky. he’s just came in his pants by eating you out. that’s ridiculous. utterly unbelievable that someone could be that tragic.

you were definitely going to laugh at him when you realised but there’s literally not a chance that he could hide that. he lets go of his grip on your thighs, moving one hand over his crotch as you shuffle off of him.

bastard. pathetic fucking bastard.

you hadn’t even touched him yet. how was he going to explain that? i’m just so sickly obsessed with you that i came in my pants. that didn’t sound like anything a normal person would say.

his eyes remain shut, laboured breathing as his mind attempts to take him out of this room and far, far away. it’s not fucking working. especially not when he can hear your panting next to him, the rustling of the sheets as you sort them out.

your eyes travel to his covered crotch with a confused expression until you notice the dark latch and it finally clicks. ‘did you cum in your pants?’ you exclaim and he thinks that this right here might just kill him off.

he nods quickly, point blank refusing to open his eyes. it was easier this way, at least his tears of embarrassment would be somewhat hidden. you could’ve just done the polite thing and ignored it. made up some excuse about going to class and then you could disappear from his life. god, why did you have to be such a-

‘that’s so hot,’ you continue, cutting his thoughts short at just the right spot. pressing your warm body into his side as you settle into bed.

‘what? no it’s not..’ brave enough to open his eyes to look at you, confusion plastered over his face. surely you were just joking. no woman in the history of the world would find his inadequacy hot.

‘who are you to tell me what i can or can’t find hot?’ prodding at his cheek, offence ribbed throughout your response.

this surely requires a marriage proposal or something of that nature, right? like, there’s not a possibility that he could ever let you get away now.

his lips twitch into a smile, taking his hand from his crotch to wrap his arm around your shoulder. the confidence was next level and almost unheard of but he had to show you a little appreciation after you’d just told him his premature orgasm was attractive.

‘don’t ever tell me what i can and can’t like again,’ you jokingly warn, resting your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

he speaks up after a few moments of silence, unsure of if you’re even still awake, ‘thank you.. for letting me do that,’ staring up at the ceiling. eddie thinks that he likes eating pussy. really likes it. especially yours.

you laugh sleepily, throwing an arm over his torso. it’s music to his ears. if making you cum was top priority, then making you laugh was a solid number two.

‘you don’t have to thank me every time,’ yawning into his chest. it’s technically still the middle of the day but if you were going to sleep, he sure as hell wouldn’t complain.

instead he’d lie there as still as he possibly could. kinda like when a cat falls asleep on your lap and you just can’t move for the rest of the day. he’s prepared to take that sacrifice.

he must’ve dozed off at some point too because he wakes up to a short knock on your bedroom door.

you’re dead to the world. completely unaffected by the sound, curled into the blanket. super adorable with your cheeks squished togeth-

the door knocks again and he jumps up, not wanting whoever it is to wake you. he hadn’t exactly thought of the consequences of answering your door. half naked at that.

‘oh! eddie.. wasn’t expecting you,’ nancy responds, eyebrows flying up her forehead. he’s such a moron. it would’ve been ten times easier to just ignore the door because now he had to explain why he was stood in his underwear in your room.

perfect.

‘oh yeah.. got too high.. had to sleep it off, yanno?’ chuckling awkwardly, desperately trying to hide behind the door. he hopes to the high heavens that his boxers aren’t stained. he’d either look like the worlds biggest creep or like the completely pathetic freak that he was. he wasn’t keen on either option.

only you could know just how pitiful he truly was.

her eyes travel to his bare legs and back up again, ‘uh huh.. well, we’re ordering pizza if you two want in..?’ giving him a tiny smile. she’s so polite that now he just feels weird. god dammit, they’re friends, his pasty little legs being out should not make him feel so exposed.

‘oh yeah uh.. i’ll ask her,’ glancing over to your very unconscious state on the bed. he wasn’t keen on the idea of waking you but did think that it’d be rather unforgivable if he didn’t. plus he was hungry.

‘okay.. don’t take too long,’ wiggling her eyebrows at him and disappearing off back downstairs. shutting your door with a quiet click.

fucking nancy wheeler and her politeness.

he slinks back over to the bed, shaking your shoulder ever so gently, ‘hey.. wake up,’ trying his hardest not to alarm you.

it works somewhat, your eyes springing open as you wake. blinking up at him from your blanket cocoon. he feels terrible but man’s gotta eat. it does occur to him now that it would’ve been a pleasant surprise to wake you with a pizza rather than just so abruptly.

‘wha- what?’ rubbing your tired eyes as you come to. you’re so cute like this, he wouldn’t mind waking up to this sight every morning. okay, maybe he’s getting ahead of himself here.

‘er.. they’re ordering pizza.. nancy asked me if you wanted anything?’ still standing sheepishly over your bed. his eyes trail down to where your thigh had poked out of the duvet, how they were keeping his face warm barely a few hours ago..

‘oh,’ you sigh, ‘yeah.. just cheese please,’ snuggling back up into the bed, ‘there’s a twenty on my desk, get whatever you want,’ closing your eyes again.

‘oh.. okay,’ he nods, even though you obviously can’t see him. deciding that this time, he’ll be more appropriately dressed to converse with your roommates. seemed like the right thing to do. plus he’s sure robin would definitely have plenty to say if he came downstairs half-dressed. and none of it good.

he ignores the money on your desk. as fucking if he’d let you pay for your own food after you had so graciously fed him earlier. not happening. like, ever again.

following the voices into your kitchen to find nancy and robin sat around the kitchen island, phone poised in her hand ready to go.

‘you’re in luck, i was just about to call.. what d’you want?’ robin asks, raising a singular brow. nancy had obviously filled her in on what had been behind your bedroom door.

‘just cheese.. please,’ ignoring how ridiculous the unintended rhyme made him sound.

‘is that for both of you?’ she looks on, a glint of something indescribable in her eye. he wishes he knew how to decipher women. you’re all so fucking complicated and weird. in the best way, of course.

‘uh.. yeah?’ looking on tentatively, unsure of what she could possible be implying.

‘she won’t share, better to get your own,’ she nods. oh. she was being nice. he’s sure there’ll be a catch somewhere.

‘oh right.. okay,’ he fumbles around in his pocket for his wallet, tossing a couple twenties onto the marble. maybe if he covered their food too, he’d get in their good books and would be welcomed back with open arms. he’s sure he could endure that.

pay for food and get magnificent pussy in return. seemed fair.

the two girls sit in silence until he gets to the bottom of the stairs and then robin pipes up once again, ‘will we be seeing you around here regularly, mr. munson?’

he pauses, staring back into the kitchen at the two girls. he’s not sure how to even respond. because actually, he’d been at your house every night this week, right under their noses. and if he were to hazard a guess, he’d be here most of next week too. and the next.

okay, maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

‘uh.. maybe?’ he shrugs, chuckling nervously. robin’s eyes are like slits, staring him down. she’d always been rather intimidating and now was no exception.

‘hm,’ she nods, shooing him off back up the stairs, ‘you’re dismissed,’ still clutching onto the clunky plastic phone.

he disappears rapidly, not wanting to hang around to find out what else she was going to pry about it. eddie reckons that he’s good at secrets, but if he was truly pressed, he’s not so confident in his ability to keep quiet.

you’re awake when he returns to your room, still dozing in bed but awake. he slinks back in, grateful to be away from their prying questions. you’re so sweet like this. not that he didn’t also adore the bossy, demanding side of you but he appreciated the docile part too.

‘you didn’t take my money,’ you point out, frowning at him from the pillow. he shuffles over to your side of the bed, smiling sheepishly.

‘i wanted to pay.. to say thank you,’ he nods, fiddling with his belt loop. he’s aware that you had already told him to stop saying thank you but he truly had to express his gratitude somehow.

‘stop doing that,’ you frown, glaring up at him, hand appearing from the blanket to grab onto his shirt. ‘if i didn’t want to have sex with you, i wouldn’t,’ fisting the material to pull him closer to the bed.

eddie’s not the most sturdy, stumbling and ultimately falling on top of you, just about catching himself before his head smashes into yours. that’d look really good to the girls he was trying to impress if he gave you a black eye, robin would probably get the pitchfork ready to murder him.

you squirm beneath him but your smile says it all, still clasped onto his tee. you’re slightly intimidating like this, well, you were all the time. but especially like this. just mere millimetres away from his face, gazing up at him with those bright eyes. he’s sure they held the glow of a thousand suns in them.

he breathes out shakily, fully aware that his entire body weight was on top of yours, ‘yeah.. shit, sorry,’ far too mesmerised by your eyes to want to move just yet.

‘apology accepted,’ you grin, smashing your lips to his, hand still fisted into his shirt. it’s lazy and messy, tongue creeping into his mouth the second you get the chance.

eddie can feel your thighs move, spreading apart to pull him in closer despite the barrier between you. holy shit. he didn’t think he’d find this so incredibly hot. grinding against you between the blanket.

downstairs, robin and nancy share a certain look when they notice the faint knocking of your headboard against the wall. robin’s nose curling the second she realises just what was happening. feeling the instant regret of ever asking him if he was to be around more often.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic

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unladielike · 11 months ago

Note

As much as he hoped to not run into anyone he knew while picking up a certain series his sister pre-ordered for herself, here he was at the very same book store Vivian liked to go to, holding a newly released shoujo manga series in his hand with the girl in question absolutely having caught him red handed here. It had been some time since he sorta blew up at her for his absolutely trivial insecurities, and he did owe her an apology for it. Even though the girl was likely doing her best to ignore him right now as she turned away to mind her own business, Keith cleared his throat and turned to her, tucking the manga volume he had into the bag he had brought for easier transportation of his sister's purchases, ❝ I'm sorry about last time, ❞ he began awkwardly, unable to really look her in the eyes as he said it, ❝ I'm not the best at keeping cool when people hit nerves. ❞ He paused, thinking that Vivian probably wouldn't want to hear any excuses out of him. It made sense that she didn't. Besides, she was clearly more compatible with people like Reanne anyhow in terms of friendship and whatnot, ❝ anyway, I'll leave you be. I just wanted to apologize for that. ❞

UNPROMPTED ASKS. » always accepting!

The moment Keith entered her peripheral, Vivian wasted no time whirling around, intent on re-browsing the shounen manga again; after all, his presence alone was enough to deter her from checking out the new updates. Before she could bring herself to trot forward, however, him clearing his throat has her immediately cease, and against her better judgment, she'll slowly peek back at him over her shoulder with a single brow arched upwards, as if saying, 'What in god's name do you want?'

Truth be told, she didn't know what exactly to expect considering it wasn't as if she knew him particularly well yet; still, the subsequent apology Keith uttered was enough to make her jawline unclench, because when it came down it, she just couldn't find it in herself to stay mad at him.

"...Apology accepted, I guess," Vivian ends up sighing. "I mean... when you're clearly trying your best to be sincere, it's hard to really hold grudges, you know? Besides, I do lack the social aptitude to choose my words more carefully, so people already get mad at me a lot... in other words, I'm pretty much used to it. But yeah, consider our last altercation together water underneath the bridge." Sure enough, she then ambles over to survey the recent volumes released by Tamako Tamagoyama for the series, 'My Cat is Such a Weirdo' all while debating whether or not she should get it for Hayate's Christmas present. Of course, she still wasn't standing super close to Keith, but now that he apologized, the distance between them did at least shorten to half a meter.

"Are you here for your younger sister?" Vivian finally goes on to question, making it rather apparent she pretty much paid no heed to his last words.

@abrasife

#abrasife #║▌ ⧼ ⸢ ʚɞ ⸣︳m̲o̲d̲e̲r̲n̲. ⧽ ― ENTER THE MANLY HEROINE OF JUSTICE.#⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( PUBLISHED ) ⤹ •• 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕤.#⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( QUEUED ) ⤹ •• 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕪.#[ /dust the cobwebs off my blog ]#[ as always severa thank you for the ask! ]#[ i hope i managed to answer it to your liking ]

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cyclonesyndicate · 2 years ago

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The places that you know seem like fantasy || Trial 6.3 || NULL || RE: Tempest, Xander, Tala

Cody’s eyes flick back and forth between each subsequent speaker. It’s times like this that he’s glad his villain costume includes a facemask-- he doesn’t really want to know just how much nervous lip chewing he’s done in the past few minutes. Even with his own summary, there’s a lot to take in, and even more that they’ve yet to cover. It’s why his sigh of relief upon watching Tempest exit the elevator and not the ‘Big Boss’ they’ve been discussing causes a wave of dizziness to wash over him. That, or it’s because he was holding his breath the moment he heard the ding. He just hopes their appearance here is a good thing.

With his attention subsequently grabbed by Xander’s in-depth explanation of the meaning of ‘Ragnarok’ in Norse mythology, however, Cody is left in stunned silence… That he punctuates with a little chuckle.

“Shit, dude, for real? Damn, those vikings really went off, huh… Nice job picking up on it n’ explaining, Nifl.”

He shoots the frosty villain a grateful look before continuing.

“Can’t say I’m not worried about an ‘apocalypse’ scenario happening, though. If that hunk of rock’s capable of something like that, I can’t blame you for wantin’ to keep it out of ‘the wrong hands’ or whatever, Tempest…”

With his thoughts back to the matter at hand, Cody’s brows pull back together as he brings a hand up to his chin.

“In terms of Ragnarok themself, though… I dunno if ‘loving the sound of their own voice’ is something we can say for sure? Like, yeah, I can see how they come across that way on paper, but I think it’d be kinda hypocritical to hate that Bodcast guy so much for the same thing, y’know? Instead, I think it’s more like they’re putting on some kinda act-- like they’re trying to project confidence that they might not normally have. N-not to say we shouldn’t take ‘em seriously, ‘cause that’d-- that’d be dumb, but…”

He rubs his neck nervously with a sigh.

“Look, as a guy who’d do that kinda thing all the time online, I know damn well it’s way easier to make people believe you think you’re real hot shit when they can’t see your face, especially when it comes to, like, taking a full 20 minutes to come up with a good comeback under the excuse of not lookin’ and then tossin’ your phone halfway across the goddamn room the second you hit send.”

Cody pauses, blinking a few times before letting out an awkward cough.

“Uh. Made-up example. Point is, I think ‘Ragnarok’ is just tryin’ to ‘play the part’ they got assigned…”

“... But I wanna know what exactly they think their part is.”

Hesitation flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans forward, tentatively clasping his hands together and resting his head on them in thought.

“To the wider world, we’re all ‘villains’, right? Whether you’d consider yourself one or not, that’s what you’ve been labelled with for one reason or another. Theft, assassination, felonies, mischief, making fun of public figures online… Any action that the ‘average civilian’ would consider ‘wrong’ or ‘illegal’ that’s done without a good enough reason is seen as villain behaviour. On the flip side, the people who try to prevent those things from happening are considered ‘heroes’, and because thwarting ‘villains’ is considered a ‘good reason’ by the average civilian, those heroes can generally get away with a lot more bullshit, like beating them to pulps or causing some ‘necessary’ destruction. There’s also the in-betweeny shit, like vigilantes and ‘anti-’ heroes and villains, but that’s-- that’s a whole other can of worms, and I don’t really wanna start debating on what they all mean right now.”

Cody kicks his boots sharply against the floor with a huff.

“So! The question is, does Ragnarok think they’re a hero, or do they think they’ve ‘fallen’ to something like an anti-villain? After all, they’ve got some real… Strong opinions on ‘evil’, from what we’ve seen, but I wanna know how they stand morally, then, too. I wanna know how they can say they wanna ‘eradicate evil from the world’, then turn around and look at all this like ‘well, makin’ like 20-something people kill each other is kinda fucked up, but I got a good reason so it’s okay’. Like, hello? Hell, Cherry fuckin’ uno-reversed the stupid goddamn ‘lol just don’t kill anyone, 4heads’ victory condition by bringin’ everyone back! So if this guy somehow doesn’t think they’ve gone way down on the ‘least to most evil’ scale after everything so far, I’m gonna....”

As he starts getting all riled up and his grip grows tighter, Cody’s knuckles begin to turn white. It’s only when he forces himself to take a deep breath that he finally releases his own hands, and instead puts them flat on the table. He needs to calm down, Cody tells himself. He can’t think if he’s too caught up in his feelings on all this-- facts now, feelings later. He just needs to keep himself steady...

#ch 6 #null #submission

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years ago

Text

Meeting and Dating Benny Rodriguez

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Benny met when you were younger. You’d lived in the neighborhood your entire life and with Benny and the boys being the only kids around your house; and the fact that you were a bit of a tomboy in general, they were who you made friends with.

- Like most young boys, they weren’t too keen on some little girl butting into their games, but you were persistent! It took you a couple weeks and a whole lot of effort but soon enough they let you stay and play without any complaints. After that, the rest was history.

- You’d sort of always just been one of the guys. The main reason you were allowed to stick around was because they nearly forgot you weren’t one. You played baseball, weren’t afraid to get dirty, and never acted all “prissy”; you were the only type of girl they’d ever be caught dead letting into their crew.

- And; without any opposition from you, that’s how things went on for a few years. It wasnt until you got a little older that you realized that being “one of the boys” maybe wasn’t the ...greatest thing in the world.

- You sort of always had a thing for Benny. It was easier to brush off and not realize when you were younger but as you got into your teenage years, it became more difficult to ignore.

- And thus, your dilemma finally became obvious. You’d spent so long being one of the guys that you were completely sure Benny only saw you as that; he sure acted like he did.

- So a million thoughts raced through your head. You wondered if you could change how he saw you, if you wanted to, how you’d do it, should you do it, when you’d do it, etc. Maybe you should try some makeup, change your clothes, your personality; should you stop hanging around him so much?

- You had no idea what to do ...so you tried a few things. You dressed a tad bit girlier; not enough to have the gang on you or ruin your ability to play, and wore your hair down, and ...nothing happened.

- All you got was a few comments from the guys asking “what’s up with the hair?”. Soon enough, you were grumpily pulling your hair up into a ponytail after getting not even the slightest reaction from Benny.

- After several attempts, you’re at a loss and somewhat frustrated. You debate just telling him but the day you decide to, you chicken out and stay home.

- Your mother tells Benny you aren’t feeling well when he asks if you can come out and play and you watch from behind the curtain guiltily as he leaves your front steps, casting one last look from behind his shoulder at your window.

- You don’t show up to the field for another day or two before deciding that you need to go back, missing your friends and fresh air. You figure you can play it cool like always, and you do, getting welcome back slaps on the back and shakes.

- You play for a few hours before the boys have to go home and you’re left on the field alone with Benny. You’re just about to walk out as well ...up until Benny calls after you. With a deep breath, you jog back over and stand in front of him.

“You feeling better?” he asks and you both nod, one after the other.

“That’s good. I missed you out here,” he says before seeming to realize what he said. He laughs slightly before following up with a “Yeah-Yeah sucks at playing your position.”.

- You both laugh before he asks “why don’t we play, just you and me. You throw and I’ll hit”. And you try to turn him down, telling him that you should be getting home, but then he gives you that smile of his and a “come on” and you just can’t refuse.

- So you get in position and the two of you play, swapping turns back and forth when you have to run and catch the ball.

- On one of your last few throws, he runs over to hand you the ball but doesn’t immediately let go. Instead, he leans in and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek before running back to his spot on the field, casting a look back at you and subsequently a smile as he does.

- The two of you kiss for real when you’re at the edge of the field, getting ready to walk home. He calls your name and you pause, standing still as he grips your shoulder and leans in, planting a peck on your lips.

“Why’d you do that?” you ask, though it’s obvious that you don’t mind.

He merely shrugs and grins at you. “I wanted to.”

- You can’t help but smile back, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders and walk you off the field.

- There isn’t a ton of pda in your relationship but there’s a bunch of contact: high fives, his arm around your shoulders, his leg touching yours when you sit next to each other. He just doesn’t want the guys on your case for the rest of the week for a measly kiss in front of them.

- Affectionate hair ruffling.

- Hand holding, usually when the gang isn't around; unless it’s Smalls.

- Forehead and cheek kisses.

- Soft kisses.

- He has your picture on his dresser and you cant help but smile every time you see it.

- When it really comes down to it, he’s got a huge soft spot for you. He may treat you like one of the boys most of the time but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you you’re definitely different from them to him.

- Excited hugs, usually after he accomplishes something big or you get good news.

- Sitting in between his legs, usually with his chest pressed against your back.

- He doesn’t mind cuddling, even if it’s sort of in front of the gang, mainly because his style of cuddling is his arm draped over your shoulder and you resting against his side.

- As though he’d allow you to not have a nickname! He doesn’t really use petnames except; maybe, when he’s using them as jokes or sarcastically, but you’ve probably had a nickname since you were little that he still uses.

- Although, he does say “that’s my girl” to himself or just outloud whenever he gets all proud of you; like when you score a homerun.

- The boys definitely tease him about you. Its the one thing they have on him.

- He lets you win when you guys race. You’re absolutely aware of it but you think it’s cute so you both jokingly pretend he didnt.

- He’s always there to help get you out of a pickle. If you have a problem it is both your problems the minute you tell him.

- He always brushes off your praise with a halfhearted and playful scoff but in actuality, he loves it whenever he gets a compliment from you.

- There’s definitely been moments where you’ve been in his room with him and asked about some sort of clothing item and he just casually asks if you want it. And ...You’re damn right you do.

- Randomly being carried away from things isn’t all too uncommon for you. He likes to pick you up, whether it’s just by your armpits or in a piggyback ride.

- Walking home from school together.

- Spending your summers together.

- Expect a lot of random visits and him calling you to come hang out. If he wants to see you, he’ll just come knocking on your door.

- Smalls is sort of like your adoptive child, even though you're only like two years older than him. You’re just always looking out for the younger boy and making sure he feels welcome and all that.

- Getting introduced to Beast and Mr. Mertle.

- Knowing tons of baseball facts because of him.

- Playing catch in the lot. He goes easy on you but to be fair; he goes easy on most people.

- Looking after him and making sure he doesn’t over exert himself.

- I’m sorry but you’ll have to just accept that baseball is his priority a lot of the time. It’s his “life” and you’ll just have to accept that if you want to be with him.

- He would genuinely ask you to marry him in complete awe if you were to ever get him baseball game tickets.

- He makes a big deal over your birthday, well, him and the rest of the boys. They all cheer when you arrive at the field, giving all their “look who it is’s”and slapping you on the back.

- Going to the movies ...after they put up another screen.... He’ll usually grab your hand and keep glancing over at you whenever you go, he just thinks you’re really pretty.

- Hanging out in the treehouse together.

- Going to the fair with him.

- Pool dates.

- A lot of your dates get invaded by the gang, especially if they involve pizza …or food of any kind really.

- His mother probably insists on giving him some money every time she hears he’s going to hang out with you because she wants him to be a little gentleman and pay for your “date”.

- Even though you’ve always sort of been seen as just one of the guys, you’re serious bragging rights for Benny; both to the other boys and to Phillips. All it takes is one visit to the pool with them and suddenly they’re all a little envious of their leader.

- Though, to be honest, all the boys in the group have probably; at some point, had a crush on you or thought that you’d end up together because it just makes sense, you know? They weren’t in love but they had those little “why am is my heart racing” type of moments with you.

- Even though he brags about you, he’s still a jealous boy. He pretty much glares at any other guy; besides the guys in the gang, you’re with. Even if he’s doing something else, he finds it difficult to concentrate. The minute you arrive back at his side, he’ll ask why you’re hanging out with them, usually with a subtle; or not so subtle, insult directed towards them.

- Even though he knows you’re capable of holding your own, he’ll still always jump to stick up for you because it’s just a habit of his.

- He’s protective of everybody in his gang so that obviously includes you. He isn’t above fighting; or at least embarrassing, someone who’s giving you a hard time or literally carrying you to a safe distance when you’re near something he deems dangerous. Plus, he’s always the first one at your side no matter what’s going on.

- The two of you don’t fight a ton. You’ve been friends for a while so you sort of already know what rubs each other the wrong way and can avoid them because of that. If you are fighting, it’s probably about something stupid and you wind up just leaving; for one reason or another, as he calls after you.

- That being said, you usually just resolve things after a bit of arguing; without you having to walk off. As an apology, he’ll give you a sincere “hey, I’m sorry, alright?” before making some joke along the lines of asking if you want to hit him. You’ll hug and he’ll kiss your head and everything will be settled.

- You don’t tell each other that you love each other a whole lot; it sort of just isn’t Bennys thing, but you show each other you do with your actions.

- In the future, you’re there at every single one of his games, cheering him on.

- He probably asks you to marry him right after highschool. He just can’t wait to make you Mrs. Rodriguez.

#Benny rodriguez imagine #Benny rodriguez headcanons #Benny rodriguez imagines #Benny rodriguez headcanon #the sandlot imagine #the sandlot headcanons #the sandlot imagines #the sandlot headcanon #90s movie headcanon #90s movie imagines #90s movie headcanons #90s movie imagine

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musclesandhammering · 3 years ago

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Hi, just wanted to say i respect your willingness to stand up for your opinions.

I know you have got some push back re your thoughts on the classification of Cas as gay to the potential exclusion of other LGBTQIA+ identities.

Its valid to be upset that Cas is reduced to just one when he hasn't identified specifically as any particular one and could fit other definitions better. That said, most people only seem to be using gay as a general term, almost an alternative shortcut for queer. Its not accurate but not meant badly.

I think partly using gay to describe Cas is because its shorthand for the uneducated and partly because it recognisably for a straight audience pulls Cas firmly over to the opposite spectrum (a way of saying that he is definitely not hetero but homosexual for less educated people about the differences).

Given that even now, with all the discourse on 'open for interpretation' on the confession scene, there are too many people insisting it is not queer at all this adamant insistence that Cas is gay is really just a fierce opposition to that view point.

The truly awful consequence is that representation is so minimal that people are left to argue over the scraps and it divides the queer community.

The key is for queer artists and producers to make more content - written by people who know and understand what representation should look like and make those stories engaging to the general audience. Thats hard though, takes time and cost money so adding in a shout out to queer art programs.

https://deadline.com/2021/06/out-loud-list-2021-out-in-hollywood-lgbtq-tv-pilots-1234779522/

Hi! So before I answer this I should acknowledge that I’m in a really weird place on the queer cas discourse spectrum because I’m someone who 1000% believes Cas is nonbinary and also part of the queer community (asexual, demisexual, omnisexual, or pansexual would be my guesses but I’m open to debate) but I also vehemently despise destiel and the confession scene. So just…. disclaimer lol.

But yeah, you’re definitely right that a bunch of people use “gay” as a shorthand for “member of the queer community” instead of to mean just plain “homosexual”. And that’s totally fine! It draws a firm line for cishet people, is easier to understand for people who aren’t as educated on lgbt matters, makes people feel more included, and also is just a lot less of a mouthful than, say “omnisexual” lol.

And I also totally agree with you that the fact that some straight people are trying to nitpick the confession scene and claim it wasn’t romantic and Cas isn’t actually lgbt is…. Absurd. Even though I hate that scene and wish it didn’t exist, it does, and it very much was a romantic confession, and people need to accept that. And frankly straight fans need to realise that there were plenty (and I do mean plenty) of indications all throughout the show that Cas is definitely not straight. Straight people clinging to him is just sad at this point.

However………… what I was mostly referring to in my initial post (and all subsequent posts in which I argued with the troll) are the rabid destiel shippers that refuse to believe Castiel is anything but a gay (homosexual) man who’s head over heels in love with Dean Winchester. And, trust me, there are a lot of them.

These people tend to despise any woman who comes near Cas (Meg, Hannah, etc) to a point that verges on misogyny, trash anyone who claims Cas could even have the potential to be attracted to more than just men, get angry at people who suggest he’s asexual and thus not attracted to anyone, and are often dismissive of his genderqueerness as well….. all because they see these things as threatening to their precious ship. *eyeroll*

When I come across fans like this it becomes really hard to see them as just fellow members of the lgbt community who disagree on the topic of his sexuality because 1.) Let’s be real, a lot of them are straight women who just fetishise gay men and 2.) It’s pretty obvious that they don’t actually care about representation (despite the fact that they’ll scream queerbaiting any day of the week, lord knows), they just care about gathering evidence to support their toxic trash ship. And if that means calling people homophobic, they’ll do it, but if it means insulting other non-homosexual lgbt fans, they’ll do that too.

I’m glad you brought up the issue of lack of representation on a broader spectrum, though, because that really is the heart of the matter. I said earlier that a lot of these shippers are straight women- and that’s true- but there are also a lot of them that are queer people themselves that are so starved for representation that the second they see two men share a meaningful bond, they start shipping it. And they’ll blindly go to the mat for said ship. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a great couple, and it doesn’t even necessarily have to be genuine queer subtext- it can just be a platonic male friendship- but lgbt fans are so goddamn starved for lgbt rep that they become a little crazed and obsessive when they think they’ve found some. That’s what I think happened with a lot of destiel shippers. And that’s not their fault! That attitude could absolutely be resolved by having more queer romances and a larger variety of queer characters in tv and film. But, idk…. I guess we’ll see if that happens :/

Thanks so much for this response, though. It was super polite and intelligent and informed and I LOVE getting in-depth asks like this! <3

#cas meta #ask #spn ask #spn wank #anti destiel #anti destihellers #spn meta #queer representation #castiel #anti dean winchester #answered

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aces-of-the-center-court · 4 years ago

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hello dear anon, when this request came, I was already in the process of writing for the setters (Kageyama, Kenma & Oikawa) for this particular prompt as well, so I have decided to just combine all five into one! I hope this is ok, thank you so much for requesting! :)

warning: long post ahead.

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

When hanging around him and Komori, it would mostly just be you and Komori talking

He would find you strangely intriguing at first because of how similar you were to him in the sense that you both despise germs, but he would still be closed off in the beginning

Gradually as the two of you get closer, he would slowly initiate conversations with you in spite of how useless, unnecessary or unimportant it is

“Where’s Komori?”, “Have you eaten?”, or “Good morning.” – Alrighhht perhaps not too useless but the conversations usually end after your response unless you decide to follow up

When it’s just him and Komori, he would sometimes ask where you were and if you were coming despite it being volleyball practice (which means you would not be around by then)

Yes, to be honest, he would have realised his feelings for you even without Komori pointing out for the 937820th time and jokingly teasing him

He would handle his feelings for you quite well and not act any differently from before – he would listen when you’re speaking, sometimes ask questions or even insert some prickly input before being cut off by Komori

Would not show his feelings for you and would likely take a while to consider asking you out

Each time he sees you, the words he wants to tell you – his confession – would be raging to come out of his mouth so badly he’d lose count of how many times he had stopped himself

Likely to bluntly confess his feelings for you out of a blue, even if you’re not alone with him, be it the classroom, during lunch with other classmates around etc.

I really like you… he would think, “I really like you” he would let out on accident

When those words came out of his mouth, he would be visibly surprised and stiffen up, hoping you did not just hear that

You would have obviously heard it, no matter how noisy the class is, and would recognise that voice anywhere – with or without mask

Sharing the look of surprise on your faces, when you look at him, his eyes would widen and he would flush pink to his ears

Your face would also redden when you noticed his change in demeanor.

Miya Atsumu:

This boy is sure experienced in handling his fangirls, but not so much his rival

Surrounded with fangirls that would unconditionally validate whatever he says, he’s never met someone so insistent in trying to prove him wrong until he met you

You two would constantly battle one another in wits until one of you out-argue the other

Though the battle results have been pretty even thus far, frustration from being proven wrong on multiple occasions would accumulate in him

He’d find himself thinking back on some of the debates and think of some comebacks he should’ve used, then mentally prepares for the next dispute

He’d slowly find the disputes fun and enjoy spending time squabbling with you

Though he’d hate to admit at first, he would know that he’s starting to look forward to the next time he sees you

Would find you more and more amusing the more he learns about you through bickering

He’d realise that he’d want to know more about you – is there more to you than a rival he constantly bickers with?

“You know, I’ve been thinking. It seems that we got off the wrong foot,” he’d say during the next encounter with you before the squabbles start, “how about we start over and get to know each other better instead? Who knows? We could be more than rivals.”

“And risk getting trampled on by your fangirls? Yeah I’ll pass.” You would refute by habit

BUT. THIS. BOY!! Even if you had rejected him 100 times, he would ask you out 101 times

Even if you treat him coldly and ignore him, he would persistently try to get closer to you

Gradually, he would make it quite obvious that he has feelings for you

Would casually tell you multiple times that he likes you though you would just ignore him

He would also continuously act sweet and flirtatious towards you and sometimes even sly to make sure he gets to spend some time with you

If he were to get disturbed when you two are alone, he would be very upset – very, very, annoyed and pissed

And if ever, his fangirls do go threatening or intimidating you, he would be the first to know and immediately send those flies away

You would also progressively start to find him amusing in his stubborn ways and would decide to indulge in him more frequently

Atsumu would have definitely picked up on this and for the 102th time, he would ask you out ⁠— this time, he may not just be left disappointed with your answer.

Oikawa Tooru:

This man here is very experienced and thus would easily realise his feelings for you early on

He would just be outrightly flirting with you, like he does with many

The difference is that he would find himself naturally gravitating to you and possessing this feeling of wanting to talk and be with you

It might be because he finds you easier to talk to since you understand him well underneath his flirtatious and easygoing front

His flirtatious remarks would hold more meaning and truth to his feelings when it’s meant for you than for others

Would flirt a lot more when with you compared to others

Even among the crowd that he’s flirting with, he would make the most eye contact with you

Due to his flamboyant attitude though, despite sometimes playing along with his flirting, you would not take his advances seriously obviously

He would realise so and decide to start being more serious in pursuing you

While flirting as usual, he would casually add in comments like “You’re the only one for me~” to which you would wittily retort, “Yeah right, how many ‘only ones’ do you have?”

“I’m serious.” He would say in a deep voice, free from his usual flirty tone as he locks eyes with you

He would want to make sure you’re aware of his feelings for you so that you would start seeing him in a different light

To show the sincerity in his confession, he would stop his flirting altogether and would only focus his attention on you

When you notice the changes in him and his flirting, you would start to take him more seriously

He would take his time before conveying his renewed confession to just have some quality time together with you genuinely

He would be very straightforward when confessing his feelings for you though it would be out of the blue, perhaps when you’re walking home with him and just chatting casually, he would declare his feelings there and then.

Kozume Kenma:

Other than his games, Shouyou and volleyball, Kenma was starting to have you on his mind more than he would like to admit

Whenever you’re with him, he would feel his heart throbbing and would be very conscious of it, causing him to stiffen up especially when in close proximity with you

As he’s unfamiliar with these types of situations, he would not know what to do and may act awkwardly around you as a result

He would think to himself that this is not the type of situation or position he should be in due to his self-consciousness and how it disrupts his rhythm

It’s tiring to keep feeling like this… maybe I should just put these feelings away… He would decide to try to brush off these feelings of his

Despite that however, he would find that his eyes unconsciously drift to you whenever you’re around

He would also start to talk more about you or bring you up in conversations e.g. “y/n seemed a little tired today, I wonder what’s wrong…”

Kuroo would have quite instantly notice the change in Kenma and tease him, asking why he’s so concerned about you lately and if he likes you

He would be a little annoyed at Kuroo and put off his comments, saying that he’s just worried for you as a friend

Although he wouldn’t admit it at first, he would later realise after contemplating Kuroo’s remarks that he does seem to have feelings for you

Subsequently, he would try to have more contacts with you by initiating interactions

Would express his feelings in his own way, that is, in game – giving you special limited edition items to help you win and level up for example

If he senses some competition (e.g. someone flirting with you) he would feel annoyed, but would not express it and would just be quieter than usual

At this point, it’s safe to say that most of the team would have realised what this new change in Kenma means

With Yamamoto trying to exert his seniority in his experience with unrequited love, he would try to give him advice on how to ask you out etc while Yaku would tell him with a warm motherly smile and happy tears in his eyes that he can come to him if he needs help

Basically, the team would be very supportive (while teasing him occasionally) which would annoy Kenma a whole lot to be honest

It would take him a lot to actually confess to you but when he does, it would be when you two are alone, probably in a space he’s comfortable, and tell you his feelings forthrightly.

Kageyama Tobio:

Whenever you’re around, he would feel himself heating up

In class or during volleyball practices, he would constantly be distracted with trying to figure out what he’s feeling or with thoughts of you

If possible, he would wish to put these feelings to an end so he could focus on volleyball, but things have been this way for months now

After a long contemplation, he would finally decide to seek Sugawara’s advice but face much trouble describing his feelings and end up replacing words with “bah” and “gwah” instead

Despite the initial difficulty faced while trying to understand Kageyama, Sugawara would shortly come to an understanding and explain that what Kageyama is experiencing is a crush he has on you while slightly teasing him and tousling his hair saying how he has grown

Though he would still be confused after hearing it and unable to comprehend his feelings, he would try his best to act as normal as possible around you – not without failing completely

He would be very conscious of your presence and start acting weirder unintentionally

Concerned, you would confront him to clarify if you’re making him uncomfortable

“No, not at all! That’s not the case! It’s never been!” He would insistently deny in an awkward manner, leaving you to heave a huge sigh of relief (even though you would still feel that something is amiss), and you would return to your usual smile

At the sight of your smile, he would start getting flustered all over again

What… why is my heart palpitating even when I’m not engaging in any physical activity? It was at this moment that he would finally understand that he does, in fact, likes you

After this realisation, he would always be a little restless around you

He would also quite often offer you his packet of yoghurt or milk and share the food he has on him, but would yell at Hinata if he tries to steal a piece

When he gradually feels comfortable enough to confide in you, he would bluntly confess in a descriptive manner

“My face feels hot and my heart races when I see you or think about you, which I can’t help but always do by the way. I don’t know what I should do…”

Basically, he would describe the way he feels for you in an attempt to seek help from you about this foreign emotion

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inkribbon796 · 3 years ago

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Lost in a Lightning Storm Ch. 2: Far from Home

Summary: You shouldn’t talk about people, and not expect them to find out.

Chapters: 1, 2

While Henrik and Anti were talking to Tubbo and Logan, and then subsequently went off to Nate’s house to do some research, Mare went to go find Anti.

Anti was cackling with the Duke on some rooftop, who had escaped arrest after the chaos he had created. The two chaos-loving criminals were laughing and joking.

“Anti! Your boyfriend is getting too brave, you gotta[1] do something!” Mare said as he leaned over a massive air conditioning unit to get into the glitch’s face. Anti was lying on his back on the rooftop.

“Ooooooohhh~ You have a boyfriend?” Remus gave a huge smile, turning on his stomach and kicking his feet up like they were a bunch of pre-teens at a slumber party. “And you didn’t tell your best friend? For shame.”

“Shut up,” Anti kicked him in the face. Then he turned back to Mare. “I don’t got[2] a boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah, then what the hell is he?” Mare bit back.

“None ‘a yer fookin’ business,”[3] Anti spat back.

“M’kay,[4] whatever,” Mare rolled his eyes. “Point is, he’s trying to find you.”

“I’m right here, let ‘im[5],” Anti scoffed, still lying on the ground.

“No, the old you, the human one,” Mare warned.

“Why?” Anti spat.

“I don’t know, humans are dumb,” Mare spat. “He’s your problem, you deal with him.”

“Fook[6] you!” Anti spat and stormed off.

Directly after he stormed off, he realized that he hadn’t asked Mare where Henrik was. But it was too late to storm off. Mostly because he overheard Remus trying to weedle information out of Mare. Anti was too in his own head to admit to even himself that he was embarrassed.

So he went out to find Henrik. Except he wasn’t at the hospital . . . and Logan didn’t seem to know where he was. He wasn’t at the hospital either so Anti ran around for a little bit and found them in Nate’s house.

For a couple moments, Anti debated on how upset Mare would be if he barged into his territory. Then he figured that if Mare didn’t want him to trespass, he shouldn’t have told him to take care of Henrik . . . and Anti had been in Nate’s house before on multiple occasions.

So Anti tripped about three alarms to get into the house and Nate and Henrik watched him stroll right into the living room where they were.

“Don’t yeh[7] two know not ta[8] talk about someone behind their back?” Anti layered on the glitching and blood as much as he could.

“You are certainly getting better at zat[9] effect,” Henrik complimented.

“You bleed on my carpet and I will stab you with a soul splitter,” Nate threatened.

Anti pulled out his knife, completely offended that they weren’t screaming in terror.

Nate helped up a stake, the wood was etched with runes and spell writing. “Anti, I don’t want to explain to the rest of your friends why you’re in pieces.”

“Why the fook are yeh diggin’ inta my personal shite?”[10] Anti demanded.

“Because zer is much I do not know about you, und I vish to correct zat,”[11] Henrik told him, Nate was on his computer, still looking through old census records and newspaper reports.

“I’m right the fook[6] here,” Anti spat.

“I cannot recall a time ven ve have ever talked about any’zing,”[12] Henrik told Anti pointedly.

Anti glared at him, his nose scrunched up like the demon was about to pull his lips back in a snarl. “Why, though? No point in lookin’[13] fer[14] a dead man.”

Henrik stood up, really studying Anti’s expression, “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”

Anti sputtered for a moment, “I don’t care.”

“I am serious Anti, if all zis[15] investigation makes you uncomfortable or vas[16] a traumatic experience, I vill[17] stop.”

A myriad of uncomfortable feelings, that Anti refused to unpack or acknowledge, prickled under his skin and boiled his blood. He absolutely refused to be afraid of some past specter he could barely remember. Anti was better than some human who’s only contribution to the world had been dying so that Anti could be brought into the world.

So instead Anti just scoffed, some derisive, forced laugh, “Whate’er yeh two arses wanna dig up some dead bitch that did me the favor ‘a dyin’, go ahead. Here, I’ll e’en help.”[18]

Henrik watched for any sign that Anti was joking or would destroy Nate’s computer. “If you are certain.”

“Oh yeah,” Anti dismissed. “What did yeh shitebags find?”[19]

“Well,” Nate stalled as he watched Anti walk over, he stayed braced with his stake. “Don’t break my stuff.”

“I won’t,” Anti smiled. “Come on, we got some loser ta[8] find.”

“That “loser” is also a past version of you,” Nate pointedly reminded.

“Watch it, meatbag,” Anti warned. “If he wanted ta[8] stay alive, he shouldn’ta[20] died.”

“Eloquent,” Henrik commented.

“Shut,” Anti hissed back.

“Do you remember your country of origin?” Nate asked. “I’ve got several different deaths from lightning storms and factory accidents from the past 150—”

“I ne’er[21] worked in a factory,” Anti huffed, before mentally stalling because he couldn’t remember how he knew that, just that he did.

“Really?” Nate commented without even blinking. “That helps narrow it down. Means you only could have died from lightning if you’re as old as Mare says you are.”

“Mare needs ta[8] learn ta[8] keep his trap shut,” Anti scoffed.

“You were right there when he told me that, and you didn’t say anything,” Nate reminded.

Anti looked away from him, “I don’t remember this, it didn’t happen.”

“Anyways, do you remember where you came from?” Nate turned back to his computer. “I know the Septics first met you in Ireland, but are you from there too?”

“Been ta a lot ‘a places,”[22] Anti shrugged. “How am I supposed ta[8] know?”

“Well it vould[23] make it easier,” Henrik reminded.

Anti rolled his eyes, “I woke up in Australia. I hitched a ride on several hosts until I got ta[8] Ireland. I don’t know if I died there, my first ten years were a blur.”

“You are Australian?” Henrik was staring at Anti.

“No.” Hunching his shoulders up defensively, Anti glared at the doctor, “Maybe? I can’t remember. What’s it ta[8] yah[7]?”

“No, it’s not a bad thing,” Henrik rushed to say. “I just . . . it is a good thing.”

Nate and Anti just stared at him, neither of them sure which direction to take that comment, but Henrik wasn’t looking Anti in the eyes anymore. He was glancing at Anti though, a lot.

But with a country narrowed down, Nate was able to eliminate several different possible candidates. Until there were five people left, four men and one woman. Mostly because it wasn’t unheard of for gender changes to occur when a human became a demon.

“Okay,” Nate said. “We have: Caleb Carson, Hannah Laverty, Brendan O’Heyne, Angus Collins, and Joe Morrin. Does anyone sound familiar, I don’t see any pictures so . . .”

Anti’s brain felt clouded, like there was something wrong but he couldn’t place it. He felt the urge to stab something and run. Like he was in danger.

“Anti? Are you alright?” Henrik asked, there was a look on Anti’s face that the German doctor hadn’t seen on him before.

Anti’s attention drifted towards one of the names in particular. He had no memories left of that person.

Much of that person was gone now, eroded away by time, but snippets remained. Being arrested for something . . . feeling disgusting inside afterwards . . .

. . . Feeling sick as the boat wouldn’t stop shaking the world around him . . .

. . . The heat of the sun burning his skin, almost hot as the anger that burned inside of him . . .

. . . And then a deafening CRACK as he felt like his body was exploding with pain. And how they’d just . . .

“They left me there,” Anti remembered, his form glitching erratically. “They left my fookin’[24] corpse ta[8] rot!”

“Anti‽” Henrik called out but the two humans watched Anti violently shatter apart in a discorporation.

Nate surged up immediately and took out an amulet necklace. One he had once’s a while ago to safely carry Mare around. But he used his magic to scoop up as much of Anti’s aura as possible to keep him from fracturing.

“Vat[25] happened?” Henrik demanded.

“He must have remembered something,” Nate tried to calm Henrik down as he was casting spells to see how violent the discorporation was, “I don’t think it was a good thing.”

Henrik snatched the necklace away, looking at it. “Vill[17] he be alright?”

“He still seems to be in one piece, but it might take a while for him to reform,” Nate warned.

“I zink ve should stop,”[26] Henrik looked over at Nate’s laptop. “If I had known his reaction vould have been zis violent I vould have stopped ven he confronted us.”[27]

“Yeah,” Nate agreed and watched Henrik put the necklace on. “Be careful with him, an injured demon’s a more dangerous one.”

“I vill[17],” Henrik promised, and gathered up his stuff with a stiff thank you for Nate’s help and the doctor went over to his apartment with the necklace. Anti took a couple of days to reform, but he didn’t talk to Henrik. The demon would escape the necklace and then slip back in whenever Henrik was distracted or busy.

After almost a week since the incident at Nate’s house, Henrik decided that, if Anti wasn’t going to talk to him, Henrik would talk to Anti. He started out small, complaining about the coffee machine at the hospital, about how muggy the weather was.

Then, one night, while Henrik was sitting on his couch, watching some TV show, or at least had it on in the background while he was staring down at the necklace in his hands, the doctor decided to be a bit more blunt. He watched the gem, saw almost like glitchy lightning crackling underneath the surface. “I must admit, part of ze[28] reason I went digging vas[16] to get a reaction out of you.”

There was a pause to the energy in the necklace. But after a bit the glitched lightning continued as if nothing had happened.

“If you do not vant to talk about zis matter, I vill not force you,”[29] Henrik told him. “But I had hoped to get a violent reaction out of you, not to actually harm you. For zat[9] I am sorry.”

Anti’s aura shot out of the necklace was just staring at Henrik. “Why was that what yeh were goin’ fer?”[30]

“You have tried to kill me und[31] my friends many times, und[31] I vanted[32] to get you to attack me,” Henrik admitted.

“Why?” Anti scoffed, plopping down on Henrik’s couch. “If I wanted yeh[7] dead, I would’a[33] done it already.”

He took glared at him. “Zat[9] is exactly the problem, you have zis[15] odd stalking infatuation but you have tried to kill me in the past. Not to mention you utterly ruined Average’s marriage und[31] his ability to visit his children.”

“The fooker was gettin’ cucked an’ e’eryone knew it,”[34] Anti dismissed.

“She vas doin’ no’zing of ze sort,”[35] Henrik defended heatedly.

Anti looked away angrily.

The two sat in angry silence for a little while, before Henrik sighed, taking off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose before carefully putting them back on. “Anti, vat do you vant out of zese interactions ve have?”[36]

The glitch demon decided he would rather talk about literally anything else, but his only other option was talking about his former human life and he wasn’t sure which made him look worse. “I like it when yeh[7] get angry at me.”

“Is it simply ze[28] anger or ze[28] attention?” Henrik asked, genuinely trying to understand.

Anti still wasn’t looking at him, deciding that he’d rather take the human talk. “My name used ta[8] be somethin’[37] else.”

“Vich[38] do you prefer?” Henrik asked.

“Anti,” Anti told him hesitantly.

“Zen[39] you are Anti,” Henrik agreed. “As you said, zat[9] man is dead, und[31] you are here.”

Something in Anti’s chest tightened, he didn’t like it. He didn’t like even the reminder that he was human. But he started leaning over towards Henrik. It was just a little bit of a lean, not enough to even get near Henrik. So the doctor closed the distance for him, lightly resting his shoulder against Anti’s.

“I zink zat you like the attention, vich I am more zen happy to give to you,”[40] Henrik smiled at him as Anti still refused to hold eye contact with him. “Und ven you know vat you vant, you can tell me in your own time.”[41]

For the rest of the night the two of them sat in almost near silence. Anti wasn’t ready to admit anything, but still tantalizingly close all the same. Anti getting closer and close to Henrik until the doctor was pressed up against the side of the couch and Anti was leaning against him. Anti sat next to Henrik as the doctor just ran his fingers through his hair. Anymore and Anti would have started hissing and pulling away. But as he leaned into the touch the glitch decided that he liked this attention.

Henrik occasionally looked over at Anti, smiling at him.

And if, as he scratched his fingers across his scalp, heard him give out very quiet purring sounds, the doctor decided not to tease the glitch demon about them . . . at least not yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Post A/N: Anti in his AU used to be a man by the name of Angus (Jack’s “survivalist” character he made super early in his channel and in this AU Angus was arrested and sent to Australia where he subsequently died from a freak lightning storm, and then cue villain arc.

Side note: Henrik likes Anti’s Australian accent, he likes it a lot! No I will not back down from this extremely unpopular headcanon.

Accessibility Translations:

1. have to

2. have

3. None of your fucking business

4. Okay

5. him

6. Fuck

7. you

8. to

9. that

10. Why the fuck are you digging into my personal shit?

11. Because there is much I don’t know about you, and I wish to correct that

12. I can’t recall a time when we have ever talked about anything

13. looking

14. for

15. this

16. was

17. will

18. Whatever you two assholes want to dig up some dead bitch that did me the favor of dying, go ahead. Here, I’ll even help.

19. What did you shitbags find?

20. shouldn’t have

21. never

22. I’ve been to a lot of places

23. would

24. fucking

25. What

26. I think we should stop

27. If I had known his reaction would have been this violent I would have stopped when he confronted us.

28. the

29. If you do not want to talk about this matter, I will not force you

30. Why was that what you were going for?

31. and

32. wanted

33. would have

34. The fucker was getting cucked and everyone knew it

35. She was doing nothing of the sort

36. Anti, what do you want out of these interactions we have?

37: something

38. which

39. then

40. I think that you like the attention, which I am more then happy to give to you

41. And when you know what you want, you can tell me in your own time.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #birthday post #footnotes #henrik von schneeplestein #antisepticeye #Nathan Sharp #Antistein #Doctor Glitch #Anti trying desperately to run away from his emotions #finally some relationship progress #Anti's just a scraggly alley cat that doesn't know how to get a home #Anti has feels #angst and feels

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chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years ago

Text

The Way Our Horizons Meet: Chap. 3

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

A/N: This chapter takes place after the events of 1x10.

Read Chapters 1-2 Here on AO3

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hey.

Another text flashed across his phone again a few days later. He’d stayed at the intersection to help with the aftermath of the solar storm and subsequent traffic accidents. After T.K. had basically broken up with him (could you break up if you’d never been officially together?) it hadn’t seemed right to follow him into the ambulance despite the alarming sight of blood staining his shirt. It wasn’t his place, wasn’t his right, to go and hold T.K.’s hand while they stitched him together again.

And then, just as Carlos had collapsed onto the couch at home, fully prepared to wallow in his post-breakup-not-breakup misery, there it was. A text. Just that one word again. His fingers hovered over the keys as he debated how to respond. Or if he even should at all. God damn this man. How could one word have such a powerful hold over him?

Before he could make a decision the entire phone lit up with T.K.’s name, the insistent vibration indicating an actual phone call. Carlos answered before he could stop himself. “Hey is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good, it was just a couple stitches,” T.K. said. His voice sounded off though, strained. Carlos immediately wondered if he was in pain or if something else was going on. “Look I—can we talk?”

He couldn’t. He was too exhausted after their first conversation and subsequent near death experience. “To be honest T.K., I’m not sure I can take being your emotional support right now,” Carlos said. “I really like you and I—I’m not sure I’m prepared to be just friends or something.”

Seriously. His heart couldn’t handle it.

“No that’s not—I—“ T.K. paused for a second. “I think…this afternoon, I think I figured some things out.”

“Okay,” Carlos said, waiting. If T.K. wanted something from him he was going to have to come right out and say it.

“Is there any chance, I know this is asking a lot, but I was wondering if you could come by the station?” T.K. said, his voice shaky. “I just…this would be a lot easier in person.”

Yes! His mind and other parts of his anatomy screamed at him. Throw caution to the wind! Follow your heart! Who cares if it doesn’t last?

He took a breath and steeled himself against the desire and lust coursing through his veins. “Listen, T.K., if you don’t want us to be a thing that’s fine. But I’m not really good with this on again, off again, friends with benefits things okay? That’s just not who I am,” Carlos said, his throat tight.

“No I—god I’m totally fucking this up I’m sorry. I really like you too Carlos. Like a lot. Like a scary amount of a lot.” T.K. took a breath. “I’ve been so afraid of…everything lately. Of losing my dad. Of messing things up. Of myself. And…I’ve been scared to be with you because I…” his voice caught, “I have really strong feelings for you. And I’m not sure I really deserve you but, I thought you should know, I don’t want to be just friends. I…I want to see what we are. What we could be.”

Oh. Oh shit. Carlos was glad he was already sitting down because suddenly he felt lightheaded, dizzy with the rush of emotions flooding through his body. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he was sure T.K. could hear it through the phone.

“Carlos?” T.K. asked and he realized he hadn’t said anything for too long.

“I’m here,” Carlos said.

“It’s okay if you’re not—if you just want to move on I get it.” T.K. sounded resigned now and Carlos scrambled to come up with words to reassure him.

“I don’t want to move on,” he said quickly. “You said you’re at the firehouse? “Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

He’d never found it quite so difficult to follow the speed limit, but somehow he made it in one piece. The bays were open and he spotted T.K. talking with the rest of his team. He looked good. Lighter somehow.

Their eyes met and Carlos felt all of the tension of the last fews weeks drain away as T.K. walked toward him. “I’m really glad you’re here,” T.K. said as they wrapped their arms around each other.

“Me too,” Carlos said.

“I’ve been such a dick,” T.K. said as he pulled back a little.

Carlos shook his head. “It’s been a rough couple weeks. I respect that you needed some time.” He swallowed and gently cradled T.K.’s face in his hand, thumb stroking his cheek. “Come on.” He took T.K.’s hand and began pulling him toward the car.

“Where are we going?”

Carlos just smiled. “Do you trust me?”

Within forty-five minutes they were out in the field. “Is this like, the make out spot? You bring all your dates out to an empty field like this?” T.K. asked as they parked.

Carlos smiled. “Actually I’ve never brought anyone out here.” He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d chosen to share this spot with T.K. In fact his stomach was fluttering with nerves about it and he’d almost turned the car around half a dozen times.

“Well then I’m honored,” T.K. said with a grin. Then his eyes narrowed. “Unless you brought me out here to murder me in which case I am very not into that.”

“I’m a cop, T.K.”

“Which means you’re above murder?”

Carlos grinned. “It means that I would definitely get away with it.”

“Haha. Seriously though. What is this place?”

Carlos cleared his throat, butterflies in full effect. “It’s…a place I come to when I need to think. When I need to just…be. I thought after today, maybe we both needed that.”

T.K. nodded. “Yeah. I think we do.”

The sun was just beginning to sink, the sky ablaze with the end of the day as Carlos and T.K. settled on the car’s hood. Carlos caught a slight wince as T.K. tried to get comfortable. “You okay?” He suddenly realized that maybe T.K. was in pain and wanted to go home and get some rest rather than sit in a dusty cornfield. “Is your chest—“

“It’s fine,” T.K. assured him. “Just popped a couple stitches, nothing major. They fixed me up.”

“Are you sure? If you’d rather go home—“

T.K. took his hand. “Carlos I promise, this is where I want to be right now. Right here with you.”

They sat for a while in silence, eyes trained on the darkening horizon and then the stars that began to scatter themselves across the heavens. “Wow,” T.K. murmured, leaning back so he was lying on the hood of the car. “We don’t see stars like this in New York.”

“Texas definitely knows how to put on a show,” Carlos said.

“You know you didn’t tell me before on the phone,” T.K. said. “I mean I was kind of assuming from the way you dragged me out here to your secret spot that you were still into this. But I know I’ve kind of given you the runaround lately so—”

Carlos squeezed his hand. “Yes, T.K. I am definitely still into this. Into you.” He gave a sharp laugh. “I’m not sure I know how not to be into you. It’s…a little terrifying.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things. Terrifying isn’t usually one of them,” T.K. said, an amused expression on his face.

Carlos smiled and then his eyes grew serious. “I want things to be clear,” he said quietly. “I’m not asking for promises, or labels or something, I just…I want us to know where we stand with each other. I need to know where we stand with each other.”

T.K. nodded. “That’s totally fair.”

“So…”

“So I guess we’re…dating?” T.K. said. “Is that—are you okay with that?”

“Yeah,” Carlos said quickly. “Yes that’s…I can do dating.”

He wanted more, so much more, but he was willing to wait. To let T.K. come to him when he was comfortable. “I can definitely do dating. You’ve kind of gotten to me, Tyler Kennedy.”

T.K. wrinkled his nose. “Oh god. I really wish I hadn’t gotten arrested so you didn’t know that.”

“You don’t like your name?” Carlos asked.

“No, it’s what my mom calls me when I’m in trouble,” T.K. said.

“How is she handling everything? I mean, first you move across the country, then you get shot…”

T.K. rolled his eyes. “She’s handling it the way she handles most things. Overwhelming concern and smothering with a heavy dose of threatened litigation. She’s called every day, both me and my dad, I’ve gotten about four thousand text messages, and I’m sure the minute she walks through the door I’ll be force fed something. She means well.”

“I know you and your dad are close, but you haven’t talked much about your mom,” Carlos said. “Do you miss her out here?”

T.K. took a breath and put a hand behind his head. “Yeah, of course I do. But I needed to leave New York. And she understood that.”

“I’d like to know,” Carlos said softly. “More about what happened in New York. Sometime. When you’re ready.”

T.K. blew out a breath. “That’s…a messy story.”

“I can handle messy.”

“God. How perfect are you exactly?” T.K. asked with a shaky laugh.

“I am very far from perfect,” Carlos said honestly. He interlocked his fingers with T.K.’s “But I guess being with you brings out the best in me.”

T.K. leaned forward and Carlos met him halfway, lips connecting in a sweet kiss. There was less urgency than with their previous kisses. This was a kiss they could linger in. One that whispered they were safe, they had time.

Carlos quickly found they were too far apart and reached for T.K.’s hip, pulling him closer, pressing their bodies together. T.K. broke the kiss with a smile on his face. “I thought you didn’t bring people out here to make out.”

“What can I say? Sometimes I like to break the rules.” Carlos grinned before his lips sought T.K.’s once more.

They laid there a long time, exploring, teasing, just being with one another as the northern lights shimmered in the sky above. After a while Carlos’ arm began to go numb and the chilly night air crept in. He felt T.K. shiver and reluctantly pulled away. “I should get you home,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

“Or…” T.K. said slowly.

Carlos raised his eyebrows. “Or?”

“Or we could spend the night at your place.”

Carlos felt something go tight within his lower belly. The thought of T.K. in his home, in his bed all night long…He shook his head. “Yeah I don’t really want to be responsible for ripping your stitches out again. Your dad would kill me.” “Well then we’ll just have to be careful,” T.K. said with a smirk.

Carlos laughed as he slid off the hood of the car. “I’m not sure careful is something you do very well. One of us has to be the responsible adult here. Come on.” He reached for T.K.’s hand and pulled him gently to the ground. “Besides. You coming over and spending the night seems like more of a boyfriend thing than a dating thing.”

T.K. stopped, a hand on the car door. “What if I want this to be a boyfriend thing?”

Carlos felt that tug in his lower belly again. “Then…I would want that too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay…?”

“Okay, let’s go to your place.” T.K. grinned and disappeared into the car.

Carlos sucked in a breath and sent a last look up at the stars before he slid into the driver’s seat. “Okay then. Let’s go.”

#911 Lone Star #Tarlos #Carlos Reyes #T.K. Strand #The Way Our Horizons Meet #Chapter 3 #911 LS #Sweet boys #So fluffy #Tarlos Fic

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mbti-notes · 4 years ago

Note

My esfp brother has recently started saying racist things, talking about how white men have it worse in this country than anyone, etc. I’m having a hard time dealing with it. I’m intp, so my instinct is to counter with a factual argument, but this is not an effective way to communicate. For one, he tends to see challenges or contradictions as personal hostility, even when they’re gently stated, and a debate usually ends up with him digging in, raising his voice, and resorting to statements (1)

[con’t: like “It’s just my opinion” or “You just hate me no matter what”. Secondly, he has a slippery relationship with facts and not a lot of philosophical integrity, so logical debate is pretty pointless; sources that confirm his argument are real and ones that don’t are Fake News, and he’ll also freely change his line even if it contradicts what he was arguing yesterday. For these reasons, our family doesn’t usually take the bait when he picks fights or says something outlandish (I think in our interactions, he’s motivated to be racist because he likes to provoke and knows it’s one of the few things he can say that will consistently get under my skin, and also because he thinks I look down on his alt-right friends (he’s right, though I’ve always tried to be diplomatic about why I find that worldview disagreeable). I don’t want to think my brother is a lost cause, and I don’t think he’s as invested in the ideology as some of his friends are at this point but I still don’t know what if anything I could do to get through to him. Any ideas?]

I often hear people say that they hope to have “a reasonable debate” about controversial issues, but then what they proceed to do is not debate but rather squabble, lecture, preach, proselytize, compete, or browbeat. You know that constructive debate (i.e. one that reaches a satisfying conclusion for both parties) can only happen under very specific conditions, including:

good faith: the willingness to give fair consideration to the opposing viewpoint as well as the willingness to allow fair critical examination of your own viewpoint

higher purpose: a commitment from both parties to seek out the truth and put it above personal ego and pride

critical reasoning: the ability to carefully construct and deconstruct arguments such that one can draw logically valid and sound conclusions

I’m not making any statement about you or your intentions. I think you’ve shown patience and restraint. I’m simply pointing out the fact that most people are not prepared to have a proper debate because they do not meet the conditions for being able to debate well. This matters in the sense that you should ask yourself whether it’s worth it for you to engage in debate with someone who is obviously not debating in good faith. This also matters in the sense that, if you are the person who isn’t able to engage in good faith, then you might be part of the problem in creating and continuing the conflict, despite whatever good intentions you possess.

I think many of us know someone who likes to be contrarian for the sake of being contrarian. Perhaps they like the drama of provoking people. Perhaps they like the feeling of being “special” in going against the grain or belonging to an “underdog” tribe. Perhaps they hide behind victim mentality (i.e. claiming “persecution” of their beliefs) because they don’t want to feel responsible/guilty for their ignorance or complicity. If someone is irrationally motivated to hold on to their beliefs, they’re not open-minded, in fact, they might even “debate” you just to use you as an excuse to double and triple down on their beliefs. It would be nice if everyone in the world were rational and came to their beliefs rationally and listened to reason all the time, but humans are just not that simple.

People at low levels of ego development have a very difficult time admitting when they’re wrong, often due to misplaced pride. Also, Fs use their moral beliefs to define who they are, which adds an additional obstacle to changing their mind. ESFPs are not particularly serious people, and that can be an advantage because it means that they are mentally flexible in terms of easily getting bored with any one idea. If you are right that your brother is only “flirting” with these beliefs and doesn’t actually believe in them wholeheartedly, then you should be careful about pushing him the wrong way. You don’t want to push him into a position where he is: 1) too embarrassed/ashamed/guilty to admit to being wrong, and 2) too personally identified with these beliefs to change his mind.

Fs are often insecure about their intellectual abilities, so perhaps it is difficult for you to understand how they feel when they have to admit to being wrong - it is a vulnerability for them that serves to harm their self-esteem. Different types have different vulnerabilities, but most people don’t like feeling vulnerable and do what they can to avoid it. Therefore, if you want to change someone’s mind, do it in a way that lets them maintain a sense of dignity in their vulnerability. In other words, make it easier rather than more difficult for someone to change their mind by being sympathetic (e.g. by creating a “we all mistakes” social atmosphere) rather than indulging the desire to humiliate or punish them for their mistakes.

If he’s just trying to provoke you to get your attention, then he’s not interested in debate, right? It’s a “game” that he plays with you, on repeat. ESFPs are mostly about having fun because they are easily bored, so perhaps this is his way to create some interesting drama between you, though it isn’t fun for you. If you take it too seriously, you push him into defending his beliefs, which has unintended consequences. Studies have shown that simply being asked to defend a belief for a few minutes leads people into identifying more strongly with it. Therefore, avoid putting him on the defensive too often, otherwise the beliefs get gradually subsumed into Fi, and then he really won’t budge.

Also, note that he may genuinely feel that he has it tougher as a guy, etc. Something that people often don’t understand is that inequality hurts everyone. It doesn’t hurt everyone equally, but it does hurt everyone in some way. For example, men also suffer from rigid gender expectations in that they are extremely limited in the ways they can express their identity. Maybe this is the point he’s trying but failing to make. If so, you’d do better to acknowledge the feeling itself while not agreeing with the subsequent conclusion/belief. Of course, you know that feelings do not equal fact, but he doesn’t, because FPs treat feelings as facts. You coming in to counter him with your facts doesn’t work because you’re ignoring that his beliefs don’t come from "fact” as you define it, rather, they come from his personal feelings. Instead of letting him bait you into conflict and invalidating his feelings, tell him that you respect his right to have his feelings/opinions, though you disagree.

Explicitly establish that you agree to disagree, and you stop playing your role in this game of his. Show people that you understand why they have their beliefs (despite them being wrong), or let them know that you will continue to love them (despite disagreeing with what they stand for). Then they have little reason to feel defensive and hold even tighter to their beliefs. When people approach you with the attitude of “winning” or getting the upper hand (though you have nothing in particular to lose), you should NOT join in and try to get the upper hand over them, because this will make it harder for them to change their mind, since they will perceive it as being “defeated” and then feel “inferior”. Leave people their pride by remaining as neutral about them as possible, then they are more likely to calm down and be reasonable.

Remember that Fs value relationships and, deep down, they often want nothing more than to be validated and loved. If they have psychological development issues, they may choose the wrong methods for seeking love and attention. In that case, it’s up to you to be the bigger person if possible and avoid playing their game of “bad attention is better than no attention”. He already knows your beliefs at this point, so there’s no need to debate him in circles over and over again. You can simply say that you disagree and leave it at that. If he suddenly shows the willingness and capacity to examine his beliefs, then by all means guide him. But, until then, don’t give him an excuse to engage in tribal mentality and fashion you into his enemy, especially when he’s already feeling “aggrieved”. Focus on the fact that he’s your brother and you care about him. Remember that “to err is human; to forgive, divine”. From there, your approach should be empathetic enough to create the space that is necessary for him to change his mind without losing too much face. It’s hard, but sometimes you have to admit that you can’t help people who don’t want help and/or you might not be the right person to help them at this time.

Yes, some beliefs are quite morally abhorrent and difficult to stomach. But the fact is that they exist out there. The point isn’t about eradicating them, it’s about trying to discover the best strategies for reducing the number of people who believe. One subject I came across in my studies was about people who had been politically radicalized and then later de-radicalized, e.g., incels, terrorists, white supremacists, etc. If you are interested, you might benefit from reading a book or watching a documentary about why people get radicalized so that you understand how it happens and how to avoid exacerbating the process.

#intp #intp relationships #conflict #debate #communication #empathy #relationships #politics #ask

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hutchhitched · 4 years ago

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Social Commentary in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Part III

Part 3. Yeah… There’s a whole lot going on in the last third of the book, and I may have had to put it down a few times because I got really excited about how she wove the new book with the original trilogy. I know some people thought Part 3 was over the top, but I found it purposeful and deliberately on the nose, and I think that’s why it works. If you want to see my thoughts on the rest of the book, here are the links to Part 1 and Part 2.

Major spoilers below:

Tagging some who asked me to and/or are interested: @the-tesseract-wrinkling-time, @shesasurvivor, @everlarkedalways, @xerxia31, @infinitegraces, @panemposts, and @endlessnightlock. Some others are tagged throughout.

Before we move on to Part 3, I have to backtrack to something from Part 2 I forgot to include in the previous meta (I blame being up till 7 am and only getting four hours of sleep for that). In Chapter 18, Reaper stabs and rips the Panem flag and then uses it to cover the fallen tributes. The reaction of the mentors is shock and horror that the flag has been treated in such a manner. There’s a lot to unpack here. First, desecration of the flag in the US (and I’d guess most other countries, too) is almost always guaranteed to get a reaction. There have been attempts to pass a constitutional amendment to make it a federal crime to burn the flag. Others argue burning the flag is something protected as freedom of speech. Yet, official guidelines for how to treat the flag are broken all the time by letting it touch the ground, not lighting it, not taking it down during inclement weather, and turning it into a massive symbol of patriotism by holding it horizontally on a football field. I saw someone make reference to the outrage against NFL players kneeling during the national anthem as being disrespectful to the flag (even though that was a suggestion of a military veteran, as opposed to sitting during the anthem instead) rather than being outraged at the actions those players were protesting (police brutality against African American men). So, who is it that rips down the flag? Reaper, the tribute from District 11. Rue and Thresh were District 11, as were Chaff and Seeder. All were portrayed in the movies by African American actors. It’s fairly clear in the books that it’s a predominately black district. In other words, it’s likely Reaper is also a black man who tears down the flag of a country that oppresses him so he can provide cover and give dignity to the dead tributes. Now, think about it from a “rebel” perspective, and imagine that’s a Confederate flag that was ripped down. I know in the books that the Districts are the rebels and the Panem flag is more connected to the Capitol, but still. The debate over the (mostly successful) removal of the Confederate flag from former slave states has raged in the US in the past decade. Probably the most famous image of that debate is when a black woman climbed the flagpole at the South Carolina Statehouse and ripped down the flag. Remove the flag of the government that oppresses you, which is what Reaper does.

Something I find really interesting is the lack of technology in this book. Panem obviously has advanced technology, but it’s not nearly as present as it is in the trilogy. I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume that’s a result of the depressed economy, and by the time we get to the 74th Hunger Games, the economy in the Capitol has recovered and been used to develop new technologies and products that make life easier for citizens. That’s a post-World War II/1950s consumerism analogy if I’ve ever seen one. Post World War II affluence in the United States was a major factor in the development of new weapons and technology. Because American workers were making more and had savings and wages rose 100% between 1945 and 1968, Americans spent more, bought more, and paid more income tax. The solidification of capitalism as America’s economic system helped the US “win” the Cold War against the Soviets. Because Americans made more and were subsequently taxed more, the government had more money to develop new weapons and technologies. The first computer, the hydrogen bomb, vaccines for polio and smallpox, NASA, and the development of ICBMs all took place during this era. A strong economy typically makes people think the nation/government is strong. Not coincidentally, an early counterculture developed during the 1950s that protested against increased consumerism and senseless spending. The Beats/Beatniks/Beat Generation disliked that Americans spent so much money on frivolous things while others (African Americans, the rural poor, and so on) suffered. Sounds a lot like the Capitol citizens who spent lavishly and didn’t care about the districts. As a slight aside, Allen Ginsberg, one of the Beat Generation’s poets, wrote Howl, which calls out capitalism and repression. I wrote The Cry for @promptsinpanem’s prompt Howl in homage to that. Someday, I might actually expand it.

In Part 2, I wasn’t sure who had the power, and I really couldn’t figure out Highbottom. That’s mostly cleared up for me by the end of the book. I was intrigued by Pluribus Bell’s (many bells, I love it!) story about Highbottom and Snow’s father before Snow left for District 12. It was the seed that let me hope we’d get more information, and we did. Crassus Xanthos Snow is Snow’s father. Crassus was a member of the First Triumvirate (Julius Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus) and helped transition the Roman Republic to the Roman Empire (from pre to post Hunger Games). He also gained power and influence as a soldier during the slave uprising of Spartacus (became a hero during a rebel uprising). Also, Xanthos is a city in Turkey that’s been conquered repeatedly but always recovers (Snow lands on top!). Highbottom’s first name is Casca, who was one of Caesar’s best friends, but he ends up being the first person to stab Caesar during his assassination. The break in the relationship between the two men is clearly why Highbottom turns on (young) Snow, and the explanation about how the Hunger Games come to be is a pretty big allegory to the betrayal of Crassus (Caesar) by Casca. Also, that explains why Highbottom didn’t ever really seem to be supportive of the Games, even though he was credited as their creator. ( @everlvrks)

There are a lot of references to Roman names and places in this book and the trilogy. The Capitol seems pretty obsessed with the Classics and wants to reflect that type of lifestyle and elitism. During grad school, one of the books I had to read discussed the obsession America’s Founding Fathers (Washington, Hamilton, Jefferson, and so on) had with the Classics. They emulated Greek and Roman ideals. The District of Columbia (Washington, DC) is named after the Roman goddess of Liberty. Jefferson’s and Washington’s homes use classical architecture like domes and columns and many of the federal buildings (the Capital and White House) reflect that. Add on the Washington Monument (an obelisk—which are found all over in the ancient world) and the columns of the Lincoln Memorial and the dome and columns of the Jefferson Memorial, and well… The Founding Fathers were Deists who revered the Classics, which is why I (a religious historian) always laugh when people tell me the US was founded on religion. Yeah, and the Civil War wasn’t fought over slavery, either.

Before this book, I would never have thought about Snow having a history with District 12 or a stint as a peacekeeper. I even looked ahead to the title for Part 3 and still didn’t realize that was going to happen, but it makes sense. First, Snow seems to have known Katniss much better than can really be explained. Her hunting outside the fence and her escapes to the Lake were never really solitary because he knew the area. He’d been there before. He’d visited Lucy Gray in the Seam, been to the meadow, and so on. Some people may see that as too much, but it absolutely fits with the draconian oversight of the Capitol during Katniss’ time, and it indicates why Snow was so intrigued and obsessed with her. Second, Snow’s experience in the military would have worked wonders for his political career. He won the Hunger Games, served as peacekeeper, visited the districts, became the youngest person to qualify for officer training, and went to the university. That’s a stellar resumé for a budding politician. Clearly, he was exceptional. Terrible, but exceptional (which is said about super-villain Voldemort in Harry Potter, too).

I had to stop and put the book down and wiggle with glee when the tree appeared in the distance. I didn’t think we’d get the actual Hanging Tree in the book, but that might have been the most thrilling part for me. It wasn’t overt. She didn’t name it. She just set the scene, but I knew what it was. And then to have the hanging and the man yell out to his “love” and the mockingjays pick up his cry and for Snow to see a mockingjay and immediately hate it… Oh, good night, nurse. It’s just too much. That’s when I made this post. I’ll admit, I have a thing for lone, massive trees. My dad has one on his farm, and there’s a huge, very old Burr oak that’s a local tourist attraction close to where I went to college. I felt like I was driving down the road and seeing it rise from the distance, which I did way too many times during undergrad and grad school.

References to the Covey having traveled and planning to again travel north were clear indicators that District 13 was alive and well (sorry for the on the nose pun) even back then. It seems obvious to me that Snow kept that information in the back of his mind as he took power and anticipated an eventual attack from there. The fact that his family’s fortune was destroyed in District 13 makes it even more appropriate that the final rebellion came from there, too.

I didn’t like Lucy Gray in the first two parts of the book, and I’m still not completely taken with her. There’s just something about her I don’t quite trust, and I’m not convinced she was completely in love with Snow. Sejanus thinks she is, but I’m also not sure I trust him to be the most perceptive person either. I’ve discussed this briefly already with some others, but I’m still on the fence about her. I acknowledge that she doesn’t have the same power as Snow does, so it’s not possible by definition for her to play him, but I do think she’s manipulative. Peeta is, too, so that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it does indicate she’s not exactly who she says she is. Lucy Gray’s job as a performer gives me even more pause because her living is made by putting on a show, by performing, by convincing an audience that what she’s doing is authentic. For lack of a better way to put it—If Lucy Gray is a performer, how would Snow ever know what’s real and what’s not real? Sound familiar? (This part’s for you, @lovely-tothe-bone.)

The songs:

Deep in the Meadow—It’s a lot disconcerting that Katniss’ lullaby to her sister is a song Snow’s heard before out of the mouth of the woman he once loved. Equally disturbing to know that he’s been in the meadow, and I really thought that the song was going to be about Lucy Gray and Snow together there. I’m glad it stayed a lullaby and not a love song. I think it’s fabulous that Katniss and Peeta reclaim the meadow for themselves as a place where their daughter dances. It’s a little bit (a lot) poetic.

The Hanging Tree—Well, now that we know where that story comes from, I like it even more. The only part of the book I didn’t really like was Snow thinking he had something figured out and then rethinking and then changing his mind and so on. There was a little bit too much of that as he tried to decipher song lyrics, and particularly with this song.

The public domain songs—I grew up singing these songs (although with some slightly different words), so they all brought a smile to my face. Probably my favorite rendition of Keep on the Sunny Side is from the movie Oh Brother! Where Art Thou? The entire soundtrack is very bluegrass, and good bluegrass is delightful. And it’s nice to know what the Valley Song really is.

Unnamed—Okay, so my favorite was the first one at the Hob (pp. 362-364). I’m no songwriter, but I could hear the tune, and it was very Lumineers (maybe crossed with the Dixie Chicks?). Upbeat and peppy and feel good, all the way. I also find it interesting that music and concerts are outlawed in District 12 once there’s a new base commander. An allegory on the tendency to cut art programs first? On the power of art as a motivation for action? Both?

Which brings us to the star-crossed lovers of District 12, or something. Obviously, this brings up images of Katniss and Peeta, but probably the most famous reference is in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet with the star-crossed lovers taking their lives. That’s often read as them being fated to die, which is something Snow seems to follow. He mentions his destiny and fate many times and doesn’t do a very good job of recognizing his choices. There’s one time during the Games when he resolves to do the right thing, but otherwise, no. Shakespeare does also say in Julius Caesar that the fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves (which John Greene used in his book title). Snow doesn’t want to take responsibility for what he does. He chooses to follow the rules instead of what is right. He’s legalistic instead of ethical. There’re a lot of philosophical and religious undertones to that, but I’ll let that float for a while.

On page 386, Lucy Gray tells Snow, “You’re mine and I’m yours. It’s written in the stars.” I’ll be honest, I almost dropped the book when I read that. In Catching Fire, Katniss says the same thing about Gale, but she doesn’t end up with him. They aren’t fated. She ends up with Peeta, who she chooses to love. I should have known from that point that Lucy Gray and Snow would not end up together, but I still wasn’t sure how that was going to happen. I really did think she was going to break up with him or betray him somehow because that was the only thing I could think of that would make him stop loving her and turn into what he becomes. A broken heart is a really good reason for revenge, but what actually happens so much worse. ( @mtk4fun and @norbertsmom )

Snow and Lucy Gray decide to run away together, just like Katniss and Gale were going to in the original trilogy. Lucy Gray is worried the mayor’s going to kill her, and Snow doesn’t want to live without her. Except he realizes really quickly that he doesn’t like life on the run. It’s beneath him. He deserves better. He’s entitled to and fated for more, he thinks. On top of that, he’s passed the officer’s training exam, and suddenly there’s a way out of the pit into which he’s fallen. And then he lies to Lucy Gray.

Lucy Gray’s said all along the most important thing to her is trust, and then he lies to her. He doesn’t tell her he had a hand in turning in Sejanus. He doesn’t tell her because he’s afraid of losing her, which is a selfish reason, not one to spare her feelings or to protect her. He lies to protect himself. By the time they get to the cabin at the lake, he’s decided he’s not going with her, and she’s realized he’s lied to her. And then the weapon he used to commit murder (for her or him?) is there. Snow snaps quickly after that. There’s a metaphor, I’m sure about him losing his hold on reality and self-control when he’s past the boundaries of civilization, but he falls really, really quickly. He goes from wanting to tell her he’s changed his mind to attempting to murder her. The only thing that really stops him is the snake bite, which is not fatal, but reminds me why I didn’t trust Lucy Gale. Was it deliberate? Did she leave him on purpose? Does she escape him, or does he manage to cut her down? Either way, he doesn’t choose love. Love, which is a selfless act, isn’t his end game. He chooses himself. He chooses being selfish and looking out for himself instead of others. He doesn’t like being vulnerable. He clinically plans to marry someone he doesn’t love, so he never feels exposed again. In short, he makes the opposite choice Katniss does, and that makes all the difference.

A few other things because this is way too long at this point:

Peacekeepers: Boot camp for peacekeepers was interesting and strongly resembles the process of the military stripping down differences and making each soldier part of a machine. Haircuts, uniforms, routines, and so on are all about stripping away his identity, and he hates every second of it. He’s too good for that, and there’s entitlement all over the place. That’s very different from the peacekeepers from the districts who join the military as a way out of poverty. I mean, Snow does, too, but only because he’s forced.

Betrayal: Recording Sejanus and Snow justifying it was hard to read. It was harder to read about the execution. And then to have the Plinths take Snow in after he returns to the Capitol is absolutely the worst. Despicable behavior.

Poisoning Highbottom: It doesn’t surprise me, and it’s exactly what the rumors in the original books were. Snow kills his rivals to ascend.

Snow’s role in the Games: The Hunger Games change dramatically between the 10th and the 74th. It’s clear Snow has a significant role in how and why that happens. The tributes aren’t caged and are housed in luxury. The cattle cars are replaced with a high-speed train with lots of food. The tributes get stylists and prep teams instead of being unwashed and dirty. In other words, the treatment of tributes becomes more humane, which becomes even more problematic. At least Lucy Gray knew she was being offered up as a sacrifice. No one lied to her about what she was. The implementation of these ways to fatten the lambs up for slaughter is horrific and cruel and very Snow.

Finally, the purpose of the Hunger Games changes for Snow by the time we get to the end of the book. They are no longer just a way to punish the districts. They’re a way to exert controlled warfare instead of a messy war between the Capitol and the districts. It’s still kids being forced to kill kids. The tributes are still kids in cages. They’re still “not from here.” The Capitol kids are to be protected, but the parents in the poor areas aren’t able to take care of their own. It’s all deliberate. Collins doesn’t pull punches about the treatment of migrant children in cages or the murder of schoolchildren. What she does is point out that we don’t really mean what we say about protecting children. We’re only outraged for our own, not for those who are different. Suzanne Collins doesn’t have time for white privilege, American elitism, tyrannical government, excessive capitalism, or excuses, and her book reads that way. I loved every word of it.

#tbosas #tbosas spoilers #balladspoilers #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #meta #hunger games meta #spoilers #book spoilers #really #long post

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prairiesongserial · 4 years ago

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epilogue 13

The circus caravan had stopped for the night a ways outside the Good Guys’ territory. They hadn’t yet begun to leave the mountains proper, but they were close enough to a town that it felt like civilization. There was no show tonight, and there wouldn’t be until they descended back towards sea level, so some of the performers had gone into town to drink, flirt with locals, and stock up on whatever personal supplies they needed. Johannes had gone with them. Ezra couldn’t blame him for it - there were practical things that the circus was running low on after the detour to Kill Devil Hills and the subsequent trip through the mountains, and very few places along the way to stop and find such things.

Ezra had elected to stay back in Johannes’s trailer and manage other concerns. The budget needed to be reconfigured now that they’d wasted so much time and gas on a detour that had nearly gotten Johannes killed, and the route up to Maine needed to be checked over to ensure the circus would still hit every show they intended to do in a timely manner. If they rushed through the mountains as fast as they could, they would likely make it to their show in Virginia proper on time, but the bounties they had taken on seemed determined to slow them down at every turn.

Ezra had no idea what had happened under the mountain that had taken so long, but Cody and John had returned past sundown with a promise from the King to let the circus see safe passage through the Good Guys’s territory. Which was good for the circus. Ezra was trying to convince himself that it was, anyway. Even if it had been the Good Guys who had stopped them with wanted posters in the first place. Even if the circus had been forced to make camp for the evening well after nightfall as a result. Ezra had a nagging feeling that the Good Guys hadn’t been making a play for the bounty at all. If they had been, they’d given up too easily, and they wouldn’t have played along with Cody’s transparent bluff about the Dead-Eyes. No, the stop had felt like a test, making sure the circus was still slated to deliver John, Cody, Val, and Friday to Hemisphere. There was no way to tell for sure. The Good Guys had been tight-lipped as they’d sent the circus on their way, and Ezra hadn’t wanted to risk asking.

He was hunched over the road maps he’d laid out on Johannes’s already cluttered table when the phone rang, startling him badly. Ezra hadn’t even known Johannes had bothered to hook the phone up, not when they were only spending one night camping here, but maybe they were supposed to be expecting a call. Or maybe it was just in case. Ezra debated not picking it up, then sighed and straightened so suddenly and fully that his back cracked and made him wince. If someone was trying to get a hold of them on the phone, then it was probably important. Probably Hemisphere. He ought to pick it up.

He did so, and let the cord follow him from the wall as he took a seat in one of the chairs scattered around the table. If it was a long conversation, he was going to either sit down or pace, and the trailer didn’t afford much space for pacing.

“Madsen and Graves Circus,” he said into the receiver.

“This isn’t Johannes,” the person on the other end of the line returned. The voice was a woman’s - Ezra vaguely recognized it as belonging to Lady. The call quality left a lot to be desired, static droning down the line in a constant hum.

“No, this is Ezra,” he said. “Johannes isn’t here right now, but I can pass on a message.”

“Oh, right, the other one.”

Lady sounded largely indifferent. Ezra was used to that. He was well aware that he existed as a silent partner in the circus, even if his name was theoretically next to Johannes’s on every sign and contract. Frankly, he preferred things that way. It was easier to go about the business of actually managing the circus when Johannes was the one loudly greasing palms and taking up space.

“Can I help you?” he asked Lady, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his ear. He fidgeted with one of the maps on the table, picking at the corner with his fingernail. “Like I said, Johannes isn’t here right now.”

“Then maybe you can help me,” Lady said, pensively. “Or you can at least start by explaining why I haven’t heard anything from the Good Guys as to whether or not you’ve still got Cody Allison and his friends.”

Ezra felt a pain in his jaw and realized he’d been clenching it instinctively. He frowned.

“You put them up to it,” he said.

“Of course I did,” Lady said. “I haven’t heard from you since you picked Allison up. I was getting worried you might not deliver.”

“Of course we will,” Ezra said. There was no point in saying that he was worried about the same thing. Not to Lady. He got the idea that if she was anything less than reassured, the circus would be looking at a lot more trouble than just being stopped on their way through the mountains.

“You still have them with you?” Lady asked, coolly.

“Haven’t let them out of our sight.” Ezra answered. Not strictly true, but - well, Johannes certainly hadn’t let Val out of his sight. That was still a problem Ezra was going to have to contend with.

“Good,” Lady said. “You need to understand, this is not a typical bounty. I had a lot of money riding on the Dead-Eyes, and that debt has passed to Mr. Allison. If you show up to the rendezvous empty-handed, I’m going to run out of patience when it comes to getting my money back.”

Pain lanced through Ezra’s jaw again. He really had to stop tensing like that. He rubbed at his cheek, working the muscle carefully in circles, still cradling the phone against his ear.

“Understood,” he said. What else could he say? If Johannes got too attached to the bounties they were harboring, the penalty was going to be death. If either of them forgot for a moment that the bounties they were delivering weren’t their friends, weren’t a part of the circus, they were both going to get shot. Maybe worse. Maybe Lady would take the whole circus down. And there was no way for Johannes to talk them out of that situation, not from where Ezra was sitting.

“That won’t be a problem, will it?” Lady asked. She was still all business, polite but not sweet.

“No, it won’t be,” Ezra said.

“If you run into trouble with them, just kill them,” Lady said, her tone unchanging. That was Hemisphere folks for you. Talking about murder as casually as they talked about the weather. “The bounty says dead or alive, and I don’t care either way.”

“Understood,” Ezra said, again. Not much else to say. “Did you need anything else?”

“That’s all. Just pass the message on to your brother,” Lady said, and the line went dead.

Ezra set the phone down on the table, ignoring the drone of the dial tone that came from the receiver, and reached for the box of cigarettes that was holding one of the road maps in place. He lit himself one and leaned back in his chair, willing steadiness into his hands even though Lady’s threat had shaken him badly enough to make his fingers tremble.

He hated dealing with Hemisphere. This was why they had never joined, despite the money that came with the privilege. A simple bounty-hunting gig became a political nightmare that was more trouble than it was worth. People were getting hurt, the circus was hemorrhaging money, and Ezra’s chances of losing his life and his family rested squarely on the shoulders of four strangers they’d taken as hostages. He wasn’t just scared, he was angry at Johannes for doing this to him. For doing this to everyone in the circus. It wasn’t fair.

If Johannes was hellbent on getting attached to the bounties, then Ezra was going to have to take matters into his own hands. For the circus’s sake. No more Val riding up in the cab of a truck with Johannes for hours a day. No more John wandering into the trailer and burning indenture papers, or Cody interrupting a pit stop with an insane bluff. No more thinking of them as anything other than the bounties, as cargo the circus was carrying to a destination for a price.

Ezra blew smoke out from between his teeth. He had to finish going over the route before Johannes came back. He couldn’t afford to spend any more time thinking about the bounties tonight, even if Lady’s call had disrupted him. Tomorrow, he would come up with something.

13.10 || 14.1

#story

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sweetsmellosuccess · 4 years ago

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TIFF 2020: Days 1 & 2

Films: 5 Best Film of the Day(s): One Night in Miami

One Night in Miami…: I guess you could form an argument that basing a film on a pre-existing play would make the feature easier to put together, but that wouldn’t be taking into account the tremendous differences between the mediums, their relative strengths and weaknesses. For her feature debut, the Oscar-winning actress Regina King has cinematically adapted the stage play by Kemp Powers about a fictionalized fateful night amongst four famous Black men in 1964. Those men, Malcolm X (Kingsley Ben-Adir), Jim Brown (Aldis Hodge), Sam Cooke (Leslie Odom Jr.), and Cassius Clay (Eli Goree), are all in town ostensibly to celebrate Clay’s beatdown of Sonny Liston to first become the heavyweight champion of the world at the tender age of 22. But the film puts them all together in Malcolm X’s modest hotel room, watched over by Nation of Islam security men, to spend a night, essentially, debating the merits of what they bring to the struggle for Black equality and economic emancipation, and arguing back and forth about their distinct positions. Here is precisely where many play adaptations falter, without the dramatic friction of a live performance to power the emotional core, such conventions generally fall flat on the screen, but King’s virtuoso acting instincts serve her able cast well, and her work with DP Tami Reiker allows the film to flow, seemingly organically between its few location movements. Working from a skilled script by Powers, the celebrated figures feel three dimensional, which gives even their more didactic diatribes (Malcolm), and pithy rebuttals (Cooke) enough weight to avoid sounding contrived. The cast work wonders on the material, granting a needed organic vibe to their nonfiction characters, echoing the essences without tipping into caricature. It’s a strong debut for King, and the film’s complex ruminations on the responsibility of successful Black people towards their community as a means of bringing attention to the country’s oppression couldn’t be more on point. At one point Clay tells Cooke the four of them will always remain friends, because they are among the few who can possibly understand what it’s like to be “young, Black, famous, righteous, and unapologetic.”

Shiva Baby: Danielle (Rachel Sennott) is in the midst of having a day. Turns out Max (Danny Deferrari), the sugar daddy with whom she has frequently been visiting as part of her regular prostitution gig, is somehow a friend or cousin of the deceased at the same Shiva she has come to attend with her well-meaning, but completely overwhelming parents (Polly Draper and Fred Melamed). If that weren’t enough in Emma Seligman’s spry comedy, Danielle is also horrified to find Maya (Molly Gordon), a successful young woman she’s known for years, and a recent ex, also there. Crammed into the Shiva house, full of cousins and aunts and uncles all kvetching about everyone else, and being physically grabbed and moved about by her mother, Danielle faces this house of horrors, with everyone commenting concernedly on her weight-loss (“You look like Gwyneth Paltrow — on food stamps!” her mother hisses at her), and her lack of job prospects when she graduates, and her parents telling scathingly embarrassing stories about her in front of Max and his shiksa wife (Dianna Argon), whose 18-month-old baby, her mom says is “freakishly pale — and no nose,” with no respite in sight. As a result of this sort of hyper-scrutiny, Danielle goes the only route that makes any sense: Lying to everybody about nearly everything, from her current major (“gender business”), to the many job interviews she has supposedly lined up. She’s just trying to get through the ordeal, one that Seligman, along with a continually spiraling score from Ariel Marx, ratchets up, until, near the end, poor Danielle is in a near fugue state, sweat glistening on her face, and the attendees, shot in unflattering slo-mo, and distorted lenses, take on the sheen of a waking nightmare. At a brisk 77 minutes, the film still doesn’t have quite enough to sustain its running time — at a certain point it begins doubling back on itself — but it’s still a lot of horrific fun, as Seligman expertly captures the absolute loss of agency one can feel, swallowed up in a claustrophobic family gathering, where escape feels futile.

Limbo: If Scotland has a cinematic identity, as such, it seems like the kind of place, desolate and unforgiving, where individuals come to exit regular society and come to a land filled with eccentric loners (stoic and unique in their oddities), in order to get better in touch with their souls. Ben Sharrock’s serio-comedy captures both the pitiless beauty of the land, and the lonely plight of a Syrian immigrant, Omar (Amir El-Masry), waiting with a group of other men from across the Middle East and Africa, on an island off the mainland, for word from the Immigration Office that his bid for political asylum has been accepted. Omar, sweet-faced and approachable, was a musician by trade in his native Syria, and walks around everywhere carrying his precious oud, bequeathed to him by his grandfather, also a musician, even though his right hand is locked in a cast from an unspecified injury. Even without the cast, however, you get the sense that his heart really isn’t into playing, despite the entreaties from Farhad (Vikash Bhai), his Afghani roomie and self-appointed “agent and manager,” who wants him to enter a local music contest. Omar is carrying a significant amount of weight beyond missing his mother’s fragrant home-cooking. Talking to her on the lone payphone on the island, where other immigrants-in-waiting stand in line for a chance to hear from home, she implores him to speak to his older brother, who chose to stay behind in Syria and fight in the Civil War that has plagued the region for years. Omar feels guilty for having left, and suffers from having disappointed his father in the process. It doesn’t help him that the culture he finds himself in seems so foreign to him, despite his speaking flawless English. Sharrock’s brand of deadpan perfectly suits the setting, but as funny as the film can be (when asked in a culture/language class to create a sentence using the “I used to” construction, one immigrant offers “I used to be happy before I came here”), it doesn’t paint a rosy affirmation for Omar and his ilk, stuck as they are, as the title suggests, between countries and lives. Omar’s pain is real, and for every positive step forward he takes, it’s one further away from his family and his beloved home country.

Enemies of the State: Sonia Kennebeck’s challenging and curious documentary seems at first to present a case for its protagonist, Matt DeHart, a young teen hacker interested in social justice, who through his work with Wikileaks runs afoul of the U.S. government, and his beleaguered parents, Paul and Leann, who vigorously defend their only child against the evil forces conspiring against him. Through a series of personal interviews with Paul and Leann, both retired Air Force intelligence officers, who believe their country has turned against them for what Matt had downloaded from his computer into secret thumbdrives shortly before the FBI arrived at their door and confiscated all his equipment, and various lawyers they employed, first to protect Matt from what they claim as utterly bogus child-porn charges, then, after they slip away to Canada in the middle of the night, the lawyers trying to earn them asylum. While in Canada, under close supervision and confined to his parents’ apartment, Matt uses his charms, his hackavist bonafides, and his skill at PR, to generate enough interest in his case to become a digital cause celebe, along the lines of Edward Snowden and Chelsea Manning. Protests are fronted, defense funds gathered, and pressure put on the government to come clean about why they seem so hard-driving against the young man. During a peculiar reenactment set in a Canadian immigration hearing — Kennebeck employs actors who apparently lip sync their lines in perfect time with the actual recorded audio — DeHart describes a harrowing ordeal earlier in the affair, after having moved to Canada to attend college, being abducted by the FBI shortly after crossing the border to renew his Visa, and tortured for days for information related to the material on the thumb-drives. Some documentation seems to corroborate his claims (even Paul and Leann, as fierce supporters as can be, were shocked to see just how ready the FBI were to snatch him), but as the film continues, and we hear more and more from the investigators and prosecuting attorneys about the original child-pornography crimes, it becomes clear that our sympathies are being played with by Kennebeck. By the end, the film itself becomes an indictment of our rapid-assumption culture, in which decisions of guilt and innocence are determined in seconds online and forever after based on the presentation of information before us.

The Way I See It: For non Trumpites, the switchover from eight years of the dignified, intelligent, and measured leadership of Barack Obama, to the perma-tanned tackiness of power-mad, narcissistic bloviating of Donald Trump, was like a double-feature that went from Citizen Kane to Kevin James’ Loudest Farts. One man better than most to measure Obama’s time in office against the subsequent regime is photojournalist Pete Souza, who served as the official White House photographer for both of Obama’s terms, and has gone on to become an outspoken critic of Trump by way of his devastating IG account, in which he juxtaposes stately Obama photos with Trumps scandal-du-jour. Lest you think he’s just another divisively partisan liberal, you have to take into account his previous turn in the White House, as one of the official photographers for Ronald Reagan’s presidency. In fact, Souza’s fly-on-the-wall quality was considered one of his strengths in the oval office. Documentarian Dawn Porter travels with Souza as he makes the media rounds promoting his newest book, Shade, a collection of those IG photos that have earned him millions of social media followers (a sort of companion piece to his previous book Obama: An Intimate Portrait). Hauling from far-off India (where he gets a standing ovation before he even takes the stage), to domestic conferences and speaking engagements, Souza emerges as a man becoming more used to being out from behind his ever-present Canon lens. Through that lens, as he displays to his rapturous audiences, he has taken many hundreds of indelible photos, showing Obama’s various interactions with foreign dignitaries, his council of cabinet members, and his more raucous time with his two daughters (one shot of Obama with his girls making snow angels on the rear lawn during a heavy snow storm remains his computer screensaver, Souza says with pride). As Porter moves from talking heads to public oratories, Souza’s remarkable photos — brilliantly composed, and inspiringly intimate, having been given nearly unlimited access to the president — play throughout, showing us a collection of images that capture the inspiring hope the president inspired and the agonizing rigors of the job he was elected to perform. The film spends little time on his Reagan years, except to note how media and image-savvy the former Hollywood actor and his wife were (Souza professes no political ill-will towards the Reagans, other than noting that while he didn’t always agree with him, he was a genuinely caring man, who at least understood the parameters of leadership). At first, the film trolls Trump by a sort of subtweet level of backhandedness: Without directly naming names, Souza makes it entirely clear who he finds failing in comparison to Obama’s empathetic, engaging deportment, but by the time the film comes around to his notorious IG account, there can be no doubt the subject of his ire. Souza maintains it has less to do with his partisan feelings (his political affiliation is never revealed), and more the way he finds the current president’s undignified manner and total disrespect for the office and the leadership it demands unacceptable. Trumpers will of course take great exception to the portrait the film portrays of the sitting president, but even the most hardcore GOP folks won’t be able to help noting the blatant differences between the loving, genuinely close Obamas; and the preening, viciously competitive Trumps, each trying to outdo the others in acting as their father’s primary sycophant.

In a year of bizarre happenings, and altered realities, TIFF has shifted its gears to a significantly paired down virtual festival. Thus, U.S. film critics are regulated to watching the international offerings from our own living room couches.

#sweet smell of success #ssos #piers marchant #films #movies #TIFF #tiff 2020 #toronto international film festival #one night in miami #regina king #limbo #The way I see it #pete souza #nomadland #frances mcdormand #chloe zhao #the new corporation #summer of 85 #francois ozon

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plumbertoronto1 · 4 years ago

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Hunting for a Reputable Plumber? These 5 Essential Tips Will allow you to

Plumber Toronto

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Sewage Cleanup

1) Can be your Plumber Licensed & Insured?

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2) Does your Plumbing Service give a fair Price?

Price is a very sensitive subject nowadays. Many people are constantly looking for the most affordable car, cheaper appliance, or the cheapest TV. Plumbing alternatively is a totally different story. Think about it, once you walk into the doctor's office would you ask "How much" the minute you take on a cubicle? Most likely not! Sure, the price is critical factor but aren't you trying to find a doctor that can solve your complaint? Plumbers ought to be viewed in similar matter. Sometimes the lowest priced plumber might not be your best option. Similar to the cheapest car or perhaps the cheapest TV. Value is very important as well as the right plumber will actually save thousands of dollars despite the fact that he/she isn't the cheapest. Research your plumber as a consultant who are able to figure out the challenge, provide you with a general idea on what long it may need to fix it, and still provide an accurate estimate. Does the plumber sound helpful on the phone? Does he/she ask you the right questions? It is sometimes easier to pay a little more and obtain more appeal than receive the cheapest plumber around town. One of the better plumbers in frown with the question "How much?" when asked in the first 20 seconds in the conversation. Therefore, don't request the value right of the bet. See first what value the plumber offers then inquire about approximate estimate to resolve your plumbing needs.

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Present perhaps you have known as a professional and get an appointment back 4 days later? I not really know if that ever happened to you, yet it's one particular thing in the industry. Response time is really important particularly if deciding on a reputable emergency plumber in Ralegh NC. Plumbing is recognized as an "emergency" service. Your house could be flooded with water in under 5 hours if the concern is not properly resolved. More than that, you may be facing water damage which may cost lots of money to fix. Therefore, response time is vital. You are very likely the plumber or perhaps answering plan to respond within a minimum of 5 hours otherwise in the hour. Although, it's correct that plumbers are extremely busy, a specialist plumbing service will forever have a system set up so that you can respond quickly. Make sure to speak to the plumber directly to obtain a better idea of the issue you are facing

5) Does your plumbing service provide Free Estimate or Service charge?

Often there is a debate whether plumbers must provide free estimate or impose a fee. Once again think of doctor's appointment. Can you hesitate to cover small co-pay? Probably not! Sure, some experienced plumbers can provide FREE estimate. However, when the plumber sounds experienced, can solve your problem, which enable it to respond quickly to unravel you plumbing needs, you should definitely higher that plumber even though he/she won't Provide Free estimates. If by chance you found a reputable plumbing service that can deliver great value while providing a no cost estimate, than this is just the power. Regardless don't let FREE estimate become the perfect only determining factor when hiring a plumber.

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detectivegabor · 4 years ago

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Buzz Buzz Bitch || Discord Para

FEATURING: Bianca and Bernard (( @detectivenewhart ))

RATING: EC ( Emotionally Compromising )

RATING: G

BRIEF SUMMARY: This takes place after Bianca’s drinks with Anita (and Bianca’s subsequent drunk texts to Bernard). In spite of the title, it gets sappy as shit. Warning that there’s a lot of mental hoop jumping and general stupidity.

BIANCA: By the time that Bianca heard a car pulling up to the curb, she had forgone sitting on the bench in favour of lying on her back while scrolling through old pictures on her phone. Turning her head, she saw a familiar figure and immediately sat up and swung her legs off the bench before instinctively reaching out to grip the edge of it. Woah. Okay. Apparently moving too quickly after many gin and tonics equalled a lot of dizziness. She would try to remember that.

After gathering her bearings, she pocketed her phone and offered up a bright, excited smile as she bounced to her feet. "Knighthart!" she exclaimed happily, practically leaping forward and jumping up to wrap herself around him without even remotely considering whether or not he would even be able to catch her.

BERNARD: Did he understand that she lived 15 minutes from Mount Olympus? Yes of course he did. Did that mean he wouldn't worry the whole time at home? Hell no. He knew she could take care of herself, of course he knew that. He meant what he said, this drive was for his peace of mind. To know she got home safe and that she was actually going to rest properly. A hungover Bianca did not make for a fun work environment.

He'd pulled up near where she'd asked him to. Pulling out his phone he rolled his eyes at the barrage of messages he'd received while driving over. Hopping out he was debating calling her when he heard a familiar voice shout out. Barely able to put his phone up he grunted at the impact managing to catch her and still keep his footing. " Jesus Christ Gabor warn a guy. Also really buzz buzz bitch?" he questioned adjusting his grip to settle her back down. Knowing her he already knew she was gonna be a handful for him tonight.

BIANCA: "Please, you know you love it," Bianca replied with a happy grin, bopping his nose affectionately with her index finger and pinching his cheek before settling back down onto the ground, albeit with some difficulty. She teetered slightly in her heels, keeping her hands pressed against his chest as she tried to regain her balance, eventually finding her footing. Bianca could easily walk around in heels for a 12 hour shift and not struggle whatsoever. Keeping her balance in them while drunk was a different story.

Looking at him, she blinked a couple of times as her brain tried and mostly failed to process how close he was, before she suddenly pulled away and reached for the door on the passenger side of the car. "I still maintain that this was totally unnecessary, by the way," she quipped as she pulled the door open and clambered into the car. "But I'm not complaining. I could totally get used to having this level of service."

BERNARD: Bernard made a noncommittal noise, his face scrunching up when she bopped and pinched him. He kept his hands firmly on her waist as she found her balance. "Careful there, I'm not carrying you if you end up breaking an ankle," he said an amused grin on his face. Most of the time Bianca was at 100 percent and completely put together. So when she was like this, more open and a little goofy, he couldn't help but smile. It was hard to be annoyed with her when she looked this cute.

"You can maintain it all you want from the passenger side," he shot back getting back into the driver's side. Rolling his eyes he started up on the short drive to her place, "I better be getting 5 stars and a nice tip from you," he quipped back. Glancing at her during a red light he raised a brow curiously, "Were you drinking solo tonight?"

BIANCA: "You're not going to carry me?" Bianca asked, furrowing her eyebrows dramatically as she fastened her seatbelt and settled against the seat, closing her eyes and mumbling her next words in a manner that made it difficult to tell if she was drunk or just petulant. She just barely managed to stop herself from pouting outrageously like an actual child. "You're not a very good knight. Maybe I should take back your new nickname."

Prying one eye open, she turned her head to look at him with a tired but amused, and somewhat loopy smile on her face. "I'll give you five stars if you carry me," she teased, before shaking her head. "And no, 's not alone. 'S with Anita. Oooooh, speaking of, here's a funny story." Bianca snapped her fingers and pointed in his direction. "Guess who Anita has a tiny crush on? Here's a hint: we recently deleted footage of him in the pool from the festival. Small world, huh?"

BERNARD: "Would you like some cheese with your wine, your majesty," he replied the smile never slipping off his face. It wasn't often that she was so obvious when annoyed or riled up. Usually it would take a few back and forth remarks before he could get a proper reaction. So was he planning on milking this as much as he could? Most definitely. Glancing at her, he chuckled and said, "New nickname? Here I thought I was just being assigned a new job title as your personal servant. Be at your call for all your late night needs."

He was grateful the streets were clear so late at night. It made for an easier and quicker drive for them both. Pretending to mull over her request he shook his own head back at her, "Fine, but only because I love you." Listening to her next response his eyes widened in surprise before dramatically shaking his head again. "I know this is a small town but this is just getting ridiculous." Pausing he glanced at her brow furrowed in concern, "And how do you feel about it? I know you said you didn't want to date him but...no regrets now?"

BIANCA: Bianca rolled her eyes, her expression even more dramatic than it had been a couple of seconds earlier (if that was even possible), but even if she did her best to seem annoyed, there was an unmistakeable fond smile on her face. She couldn't help it. Just being around Bernard had that effect on her. There was no logical explanation for it, really, it just simply... Made her happy. "Isn't that what you already are?" she asked with a grin, keeping her eyes on him even when he had to turn back to look at the road. Although, all things considered, it was probably a good thing that he couldn't see the look in her eyes.

"And I love you too," she continued, the teasing tone in her voice slipping somewhat in favour of something that sounded almost painfully earnest. For a moment, Bianca found herself forgetting what they had even been talking about, lost in how comfortingly quiet it was save for the sound of them driving home, before she managed to pull herself out of her reverie. "Nah, no regrets," she confirmed, lifting her shoulder in a small shrug. "I mean, I had a lot of rational, practical reasons for not wanting to date him, but at the end of the day none of that would have mattered if he was the one. But he's not. I already know that."

BERNARD: "Depends on who you ask I suppose. The title seems to always change, I'm either your servant or your work husband. Or your Bernard," the last one was usually after meeting one of her friends like Roger. He didn't mind, after all these years he was hers and she was his.

At the tone change he glanced at her to make sure everything was alright. He barely caught the look on her face before his eyes went back on the road. That familiar warmth spread from his chest outwards. As much as they teased and bickered, if never went too far. He could count on one hand the number of times they had actually fought, but they always worked through it. He never doubted she loved him even if they got heated and he knew she felt the same, it was the trust they built over the years that always kept them together. Slowly pulling next to her apartment building he found a spot near enough to park at. "Always the rational one, you know considering your history I'm starting to think nothing short of a demigod is gonna be the one for you," he said as he started to get out and go over to her side. Moving to her side he opened the door, " If I'm carrying you, you better at least be able to open the door," he teased while moving forward to pick her up once she was ready.

BIANCA: Your Bernard. Bianca smiled slightly to herself, repeating the words in her head as they slowly pulled up next to her apartment building, as if trying to savour the warmth that she felt in her chest from just hearing it phrased that way. She just barely managed to stop herself from blurting out how much she liked the sound of that. That it didn't really matter what they were to each other, because at the end of the day, he was her Bernard. And she was his Bianca.

She rolled her eyes again at his comment, mostly because they'd had this particular conversation about her standards being way too high so many times that almost knew it off by heart, but also partially because she was drunk enough to wonder briefly how on Earth he couldn't see that her standards were high because her standards started and ended with him. "There's nothing wrong with having high standards," she quipped back, pulling her heels off her feet and holding them in one hand while pulling her keys out of her pocket with the other, holding them up so that he could see that she had them before reaching out for him to pick her up. "Who's to say I don't deserve a demigod?"

BERNARD: High standards? Well that was one way to put it he mused. Over the years he'd learned more on her tastes, though giving up the Harvard grad still through him every now and then when he thought about it. On paper the match made sense, but then again no one ever accused Bianca about being conventional. If she was they probably wouldn't be partners, or she'd have gone on to become a diplomat of some form. He was grateful it was dark as he flinched at that line of thought. His stomach churned uncomfortably, the idea of a life without her always left him feeling hollow.

He forced those thoughts away focusing instead on her. "No there's not, especially when you're you. Getting 10s across the board all the time," he said. He wasn't blind, he knew his partner was attractive and how much attention she received. While occasionally he felt something over it , he assumed it was his own high standards when it came to her. She was his best friend, while she was free to choose whoever she wanted he still reserved the right to want someone truly amazing for her. Pulling her out of the car he used the side of his body to push the door shut adjusting her so she was pressed close to him. "Better hope this demigod actually picks up in the middle of the night," he shot back as he began to carry her towards the front door of her building, "So do I lose my knighthood when this demigod comes in to the picture?"

BIANCA: An amused and somewhat pleased smirk played on her lips at his description of her. Bianca was a confident person, and she knew exactly what she looked like; she even took advantage of it occasionally, both personally and professionally, although when it came to the latter it was usually only as a last resort. And yes, Bernard made comments sometimes about the people who flirted with her, and yes, sometimes those comments weren't flattering (they weren't mean, he was too diplomatic for that, but they weren't flattering). And yes, there was a part of her that wanted to read into that, badly, but she always managed to convince herself not to. It was just him being a good friend. A best friend. Like it should be.

She followed his movements instinctively when he adjusted his grip on her, pulling herself as close to him as possible and briefly resting her head against him, feeling so effortlessly comfortable in this position that a part of her thought that if she didn't have to pay attention to opening the door, she could've easily fallen asleep like that. "Hey, who says I'll stop texting you in the middle of the night even if I have my demigod?" she asked as they made their way up the stairs and to her front door. Pulling back slightly, she reached out to unlock the door before continuing, looking at him as she did. "You'll always be my favourite, Knighthart. No matter who else is in the picture."

BERNARD: Walking into her building he took the elevator up to the 2nd floor. Over the years they'd jumped between both their apartments. Hell he even had a small dresser in his guest room full of her stuff. Also it wasn't the first time he'd carried her back home after drinks, nor would it be the last he mused.

Getting to the door was easy enough as they talked, "Oh great, and here I was worried I was going to be out of a job when you met the one." Again that feeling nagged at him but he shrugged it off. While her meeting someone would mean less time with him, he'd be happy as long as she was. Walking in he smiled glancing down at her for a moment, "You're lucky you're mine too, or else I'd have let you walk," he teased. Giving her a moment to lock the door he kept a careful hold of her not wanting to let her fall. While he could have set her down it felt nice to be able to hold her. He enjoyed having her close to him, one of the few people he let into his bubble. Taking her into her room he set her down on her bed before sitting down near her, "Gonna be close to almost 3:30 by the time I get home," he grumbled letting out a yawn towards the end.

BIANCA: "Would you though?" Bianca retorted, tossing her keys onto the small table by the door before once more draping her arms over his shoulders and pulling herself closer to him, her forearms crossing behind his neck. To be honest, she expected him to put her down as soon as they reached her apartment, but she wasn't about to complain about it when he didn't. She liked being this close to him. She liked it a lot. In fact, it was probably the most comfortable and at ease that she'd felt for days, as if she hadn't realised quite how much tension she was carrying in her body until she felt it all dissipating.

She was half-tempted to just lay down and go to sleep after he put her down, but then years of experience of getting home drunk and somehow still managing to get ready for bed kicked in, and she swung her legs off the side of the bed. Unbuttoning her blouse, she pulled it off and tossed it on the floor next to the bed, quickly followed by her undoing her pants and doing the same thing. Reaching for a t-shirt (which was also on the floor), she put it on before removing her bra and dropping it into the pile of clothes that she'd created, before sinking back onto the bed with a contented sigh. "By the time you get home?" she asked, reaching out to pull him down onto the bed with her. "Nuh-uh. You're not going anywhere."

BERNARD: "Only if you weren't being a brat," he replied though he knew it was a lie. He'd carry her whininess and all, even if he'd complain during it. It was rare for him to really deny her anything or go against her wishes. Not because she was overbearing, but because he simply didn't feel the need to. He enjoyed making her happy, and not only that but their relationship was also one built on mutual respect. If he really had a problem with something he knew she'd listen to him and respect his own wishes. It was one of many things he truly loved about her.

His neck felt like it almost broke with how quickly he glanced away from her. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her undress in the locker room or from the occasional vacation, but in her room it felt oddly intimate. His face heated up a bit as he waited patiently for her to finish up so he could tuck her in. He turned slowly when she spoke to avoid peeking, eyes focused on her face. Because of this he hadn't expected to be grabbed. Barely catching himself, he had both hands on either side of her waist to hold himself up to avoid landing his full weight on her. "Little warning next time B. So what am I on couch duty then?" He asked face a few inches above hers.

BIANCA: As it turned out, Bianca's drunk logic didn't take nearly as far as she wanted to think that it did, at least not when it came to anticipating the consequences of her own actions. For example, she had grabbed Bernard to pull him down with her solely because she didn't want him to leave, not even thinking about the fact that it would inevitably land them in this position; with him hovering a few inches above her, and her staring up at his face without being able to look away. And she didn't want to look away. She liked looking at him.

Blinking a few times, she waited for her brain to fill with some kind of reasonable thought or even instinct that would pull her back from the edge, like it had earlier that night. Like it had every time she'd found herself veering a little too closely to crossing a line that she couldn't come back from. But nothing happened, and all that she could think about was that she loved him and that she wanted to be close him. "No," she replied, shaking her head slightly before leaning up to press a soft, brief kiss to his lips. "Stay here."

BERNARD: This hadn't been the most comfortable position to land in. He kept adjusting his hands to keep at least some level of space between them. It really shouldn't have been as surprising to him as it was when she'd pulled him closer. What should have been actually surprising was when she brushed her lips against his. He remained still letting her have control over the moment. As he looked at her there was a brief moment where he thought about what had just occurred; before he licked his lips and the faint aftertaste of gin hit him. Right then. That was what this was. For a second he felt like he'd lost something with that realization before shrugging the feeling off. A soft smile formed on his lips as he leaned forward and lightly kissed her forehead.

Shifting he sat up and moved to lay down next to her. "Only cause you're my favorite," he said fondness creeping into his voice despite his best attempts to play casual. His lack of sleep was starting to affect his filter. He debated keeping his pajama pants on but he usually ran hot at night. With another person in the bed he'd be even warmer which wasn't particularly appealing. "Would you be terribly offended if I slept in my boxers?"

BIANCA: Clearly, Bianca wasn't thinking. If she had been thinking, then she wouldn't have leaned up to kiss him. Hell, she wouldn't have pulled him down into the bed with her in the first place. For a brief moment, as silence filled the room and the world stood still around them, she watched his reaction carefully and wondered if this was the tipping point that would inevitably change things between them. It was a thought that scared her, because she didn't want things to change between them, until he smiled softly and seemed to brush it off, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Relief, followed by just a hint of disappointment.

Pushing that feeling as far down as she could, Bianca returned his smile and turned around so that she was still facing him, her body curling up slightly as she settled against the pillow. "Oh, please, of course I wouldn't be offended," she mumbled teasingly, her lack of sleep finally starting to catch up with her again. "Nobody with eyes would be offended by that."

BERNARD: Physical contact wasn't something he excelled at. For so long it been him and his mom, and even then they had their own small ways of doing things. Even now he struggled with letting people touch him. The touches lingered like a sting on his skin reminding him of where it had happened. The amount of people he allowed into his personal space he could count on one hand. Then there was her, the exception to almost every rule he had. Without even trying a connection to her had formed that had left him reeling at first. For once he'd simply gone with his own feelings and now he had someone in his life he never wanted to lose. To let her in like that had terrified him, but he had never regretted his decision. Through their whole partnership and friendship, she had always been worth the risk to him.

Chuckling he stood up and took off his pajama pants. He neatly folded them and set them down on the ground by his shoes and socks. Laying back down he eyed her curiously, "what are you talking about now?" Bringing a hand up he ran his fingers through her hair gently stroking the top of her head. "That statement applies more to you than me."

BIANCA: Bianca hadn't lived a bad life before she moved to Andromeda. In fact, she had lived a very good life, the kind of life that had opened doors for her that wouldn't have been open to her otherwise, or that at the very least would have been infinitely more difficult for her to get to. But for as long as she could remember, she had been surrounded by people who on some level bored her, or held her back, and made her wonder if there wasn't something more to life than this. And she had felt that way until she met Bernard.

Bernard was different. He was so different, in fact, that when she had first met him, it made her wonder if she'd been hanging out with cardboard cutouts her entire life and he was the first real person that she had met. How she felt about him as a person was deep and profound, and there wasn't anything on the planet that she wouldn't do to protect what they had with each other. Including ignoring how she actually felt about him. "Are you saying that you think I'm attractive?" she asked teasingly, almost as if to spite the part of herself that could feel her heart about to leap out of her chest when he ran his fingers through her hair. Shifting closer, Bianca curled up against him and closed her eyes, readjusting her position a couple of times as she tried to get as comfortable as possible. "If anything, I'd say that statement applies to both of us."

BERNARD: It had been an average day when he'd realize how much he really wanted her around him. Well maybe not average, it had been an actually awful day. He'd walked under a ladder on accident and like a self fulfilling prophecy he'd focused on all the negatives that had come from his mistake. His pens had gone missing, he'd spilled coffee on his new shirt, and the printer had then spat ink onto his jeans. The straw that broke him was when he'd gone to grab his lunch only to find the refrigerator had broken down and everything had spoiled. He recalled storming out to sit outside on a bench willing himself to relax. He was still new to managing his OCD and anxiety, he felt damn near ready to call it a day. And then like always she was next to him, lunch in hand and good conversation to get him out of his head. It was when he was back at his desk that he had realized how quiet his head had been, that it was the first time he'd smiled and laughed all day. It was that day he noticed how much of an impact she had on him. The new pack of pens at his desk had damned near made him want to cry. It was the day he realized that she had his back and that they where more than partners. They were actually friends.

Glancing at her he felt that familiar warmth spread through him. The fondness and friendship he had with her had slowly formed to actual love. He knew he loved her, she was his best friend after all. Chuckling he continued to stroke her head, "I'm not blind you know. I wasn't kidding when I said you have 10s across the board. You're brilliant, charming, hard working, and you have a good heart. Being stunningly beautiful will just be a nice bonus for when you find the one." Was he being a bit too honest, maybe, but it was late and the warmth in his chest had yet to fade. Moving his hand he wrapped an arm around her waist letting her choose how close they were. For a moment he let himself feel a bit bittersweet knowing that when she did find the one these moment would become fewer. Still he could enjoy his time with her while he was granted it. "Hmm if you say so," he said softly. While he didn't see himself as ugly he also didn't consider himself in her league. Years of being in the background had left him feeling fairly average.

BIANCA: There had been a series of moments throughout their partnership when Bianca had realised exactly how much Bernard meant to her and how much better her life was for having him in it. She had realised that she needed him when she had been about to lose her temper on a suspect and just the feeling of his hand on her shoulder was enough to calm her down. She had realised that she loved him when he'd found her in the locker room, practically near tears after an exceptionally bad day at work, and she'd cried while he hugged her until she was able to pull herself together. But it was on a totally ordinary day, when she had looked over at him from her desk and smiled to herself at all the little isms in his expressions and how he carried himself that made Bernard so Bernard, that she had realised that she was in love with him. And since then, she had tried her best to ignore that fact in favour of all of the other important things that she felt about him.

She had done relatively well at that, all things considered. But it was getting increasingly difficult to pretend that she didn't have these feelings for him when he looked at her and spoke about her in the way that he did and she couldn’t stifle the traitorous part of her that hoped it meant something more than it did. Or when they talked about a hypothetical future romantic partner that she already knew she would never have because she knew who the one for her was and he was standing right in front of her. Or, in this case, lying right beside her. “Damn, Knighthart,” she murmured softly, shuffling closer until she was practically draped over him, having forgone her pillow in favour of holding him close to her and resting her head against his chest. “Did you practice that speech in your head? ‘S very good.” Smiling to herself, Bianca found her mind wandering to a memory from a couple of months ago, a conversation in which he had suddenly asked her if she thought that he would make a good boyfriend, and she had said yes, because of course he would be. Just not to her. “I love you,” she whispered, as she allowed herself to pretend, for just a moment, that maybe it could be her. “I mean it.”

BERNARD: Bernard settled into the bed keeping one arm around her, he brought his other arm to wrap around her waist alternating between drawing random shapes on her back and just running his fingers through her hair. Leaning his head closer to hers he gave a half hearted shrug. "Not much to practice, just stating the facts B," he murmured shifting closer to get comfortable. Maybe she would fine someone, and maybe that would mean less time for them. But he'd just have to appreciate what he had now more then. He was grateful enough just to be by her side, the same way he'd been grateful she'd chosen him as her partner.

At her words he smiled and kissed the top of her. "Trust me I'm well aware how much you love me. Doubt you'd put up with me if you didn't," he said chuckling softly. It was starting to get harder to stay awake his eyes getting heavier. He felt comfortable, the usual noise in his head full of anxiety and insecurities quieted downed for now. "I love you more than anyone, B."

BIANCA: The trouble with the situation that they were in was that it was too easy. It was too easy for her to get comfortable with him like this, too easy for her to feel him drawing random shapes on her back or running his fingers through her hair and imagine that this wasn't two best friends falling asleep beside each other, but something much more than that. It was easy to pretend, because deep down that was what she wanted. She wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything else. She just didn't want to admit that to herself.

"No, I'm being serious," she replied a little louder, opening her eyes and pulling away from him slightly so that she could look at his face when she continued. She suddenly felt wide awake, looking at him like she was trying to tell him something incredibly important, and imploring him to read between the lines. "I really love you. Do you understand what I mean? I love love you."

BERNARD: This was nice he thought vaguely, the warmth from her spreading through him. For a brief moment he wondered if sleeping with her was better for him in the long run. He already felt better in the few moments they'd been together than the days following that festival. His brain felt mellowed out and he was struggling to stay awake and choose his words.

When she pulled away he made a noise of discontent immediately trying to pull her back before she started speaking. Watching her he brought a hand up cupping her cheek. Stroking her cheek with his thumb he lightly brushed it against her lips. Leaning forward he pressed his forehead against hers, "I seriously love love you too, B, and I’ll seriously love love you in the morning. But you need sleep and I need sleep.”

BIANCA: Bianca was so focused on what she was saying and what she was trying to convey to him, albeit perhaps not as clearly as she thought that she was being, so much so that she almost flinched when he reached out to cup her cheek. Closing her eyes, she practically held her breath as she felt his thumb brush against her lips, that stubborn hope in her heart allowing her to consider for a moment that maybe, just maybe, he was about to lean in and kiss her. But then he didn't, and she felt herself plummeting back to reality.

Whatever door she had been about to walk through slammed shut when she opened her eyes and realised that he was simply leaning his forehead against hers. It was locked and bolted when he opened his mouth to speak and the main thing to come out was that they both needed sleep. "Yeah, you're probably right," Bianca replied, feeling the disappointment stinging in her eyes and trying her best not to let it show as she took a deep breath and settled back against him. She could do this. She could go back to pretending that this had never happened. She had been doing it for years. "G'night, Bernard."

#c: bernard #p: buzz buzz bitch

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10/26/2020 DAB Transcript

Jeremiah 49:23-50:46, Titus 1:1-16, Psalms 97:1-98:9, Proverbs 26:13-16

Today is the 26th day of October welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it's great to be here with you today as we continue our journey through this week and approach the end of a month. Today is the 300 the day of the year believe it or not. What a year to remember. But we’re 300 days into this year since it's a leap year. So, we will continue our journey forward. We’re working our way well…well into the back portion of the…of the prophecy of Jeremiah but when we get to the New Testament today we will be encountering the third and final grouping of letters known as the pastoral epistles. So, we’ll, of course talk about that when we get there. But first we’re reading from the English Standard Version this week. Jeremiah chapter 49 verse 23 through 50 verse 46.

Introduction to Titus:

Okay. So, as we…as we were talking about when we began our time together today, we’re at the New Testament, so we are about to encounter another letter. This one is called Titus and as I said this is the third of a group of letters known as the pastoral letters or the pastoral epistles. And we…we’ve talked about this. Like, there's nothing new between first Timothy second Timothy and Titus in certain regards. They are personal letters. They are disputed letters, at least in terms of penned these letters. Obviously, they have been attributed to Paul for a very long time but for also almost an equally longtime scholars have…have questioned whether that's possible mostly because of the development structures of the church. So, one of the things in Titus that we will encounter that we also encountered in Timothy would be some characteristics to be looked at in a person who wants to seek ministry or ordination. Titus and Timothy are both still consulted until this day for that purpose as we'll see when we read it but there are other somewhat confusing things about Titus. One of the things is just trying to place it historically, trying to figure out Paul's imprisonment in Rome after he appealed to Caesar and what happened between, you know, the time that he sailed to Rome and the time that he was executed by…by being beheaded. Somewhere in there if this is within Paul's life, somewhere within there is when these letters were written. So, trying to sort that out has been a point of scholarly debate for a very, very long time. So, here's…here’s kind of the lay of the land. Titus was converted early in the apostle Paul's ministry. We find his name mentioned in many of the letters. It appears that once…once he converted or once he believed in Jesus he was a part of Paul's ministry from then on. And an interesting thing about Titus is that he…he accompanied Paul and Barnabas to Jerusalem to attend the Jerusalem Council that we read about in the book of Acts, the first church council, the one that opened up the can of worms about who gets to be in and the Jew and Gentile debate that we've talked about so many times as we’ve moved…as we’ve moved through the letters. So, at that Jerusalem Council pretty big decisions were being made. Like do you have to convert to Judaism and then you can follow Jesus and you have to do all the stuff like circumcision and all that or what? And we know the outcome of that. What’s interesting is that Titus was at this Council as a Gentile. And that indeed would make a difference. It's way easier to marginalize or stereotype people when you don't know them, right, when you can just make assumptions about them and thrust them to the side which is the case here with the Gentiles. But when you are actually having a conversation with a Gentile who is full of the Holy Spirit then you too have to say, “well who am I to stand in the place of God on this?” And, so, Titus was there at the Council. Now, back to like “where did this fall in Paul's imprisonment? Or what's going on here?” There is a scenario that Paul was released from prison, his first imprisonment, the one that he appealed to Caesar, that he was subsequently released and was for a period of time able to move around again and so went on another missionary journey, this time to the island of Crete. The Cretans apparently had never heard the word of the Lord, the Good News. And that the Cretans were notoriously, you know, carnal but when…when the Good News was spoken it captured…it captured many of them a…a community formed as was the custom as happened so often when Paul traveled around to bring the Good News. And, so, this new community on Crete forms and Paul then leaves Titus to be the pastor of the church in Crete, not permanently but to stand in for him while he continued to move around. And, so, it was left to Titus to kind of form the leadership, form the community, teach the people, raise them up into leadership. And, so, then the thought here is that Paul wrote this letter after he had departed Crete. Probably if…if it were Paul, if we’re following that line than this would have to be like the same time, he writes like first Timothy he writes also Titus. And, so, a letter, like a personal letter from Paul to Titus would give Titus then this apostolic authority of Paul. Like he would have in writing, like if he…like if he’s being challenged in Crete by the Cretans about his authority then he’d have this letter to say like, you know, “Paul…Paul put me here. It's under that authority that I'm forming the church. It's under that authority that I'm saying the things that I've…I've said. It's under that authority that the decisions we’re making as a community are being made.” And, so, that's generally what we find in the letter to Titus. Of course, as I've said, most biblical scholars today would say, “no. These kinds of church structure things, these were outgrowths of what God was doing, but after Paul's lifetime.” And, so, that…so, this letter comes later and is written as a Pauline letter following kind of Paul's ethos but was written by somebody who was in one of these churches and as a disciple of Paul of some sort somewhere in the emerging next-generation this letter comes. So, there you go. There is some context which we try our best to keep before us at all times as…as we’re continuing our journey through the Scriptures. So, that’s the lay of the land. Let's begin. Titus chapter 1.

Prayer:

Father we thank you for your word. Every day we thank you for your word. That's why we're here, that’s why we come around the Global Campfire every day, is to allow your word to come into our lives into our senses into our minds into our hearts challenging and correcting and rebuking and comforting and moving us forward in the way that we act, in the way that we determine our choices and decisions. We are so grateful. You've touched everything about us, and you continue to do that daily. And, so, we are so deeply grateful. And as we continue this journey move…moving further into new territory we are eager with excitement at all that you have yet to teach and tell us before this year is over. And we recognize that as we get to the end of the year, we encounter a lot of shorter and shorter books. And, so, we’re just…it’s gonna seem like we’re moving faster and faster, but we are out in front of it and we are asking you to help us slow down, stay focused, and not only finish this month well but finish this year well. And we finish this year well by starting now. And, so, come Holy Spirit we pray. In the mighty name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

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The Community section at the website or in the app for that matter, if you’re using the app you just press the Drawer icon in the upper left-hand corner will Lead you to where the Prayer Wall is and lead you into different points of connection on social media. So, be aware of that. Check that out if you haven't already. The Daily Audio Bible Shop is available as well. There are resources there for the journey that we are on as I've said many times. So, check that out if you haven't. There’s also a new resource that we released earlier this year. It's not in the Daily Audio Bible Shop. You would get it from the iTunes store or Google Play or wherever you get music. It's called Heart, a Contemplative Journey and it's a guided prayer and musical journey that just…just allows us to take about an hour, maybe go for a walk, maybe lay down, maybe go for a drive, just get somewhere still, somewhere quiet where we feel kind of safe and open and then just begin to pray with the prayers that are in the Heart project. Just pray and kind of allow the music to kind of wash into the emotions that we’re speaking with the Lord about, opening ourselves to Him and His healing touch. That is at the Heart project and you can get that at iTunes. Now, you can’t stream that like on Apple music. You have to actually purchase it at the iTunes Store or the Google play store. But if you just search for…for my name, Brian Hardin or search for a Contemplative Journey…Heart, a Contemplative Journey you'll find it.

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And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can press the Hotline button it's in the app, super convenient no matter where you are on this planet and share from there, or if you prefer the telephone there are numbers that you can use. In the Americas 877-942-4253 is the number. If you're in the UK or Europe 44-20-3608-8078 is the number to call…I was trying to say dial and call at the same time…either one of those will work. And if you are in Australia or that part of the world 61-3-8820-5459 is the number to call.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

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