#anyway ignore the fact it's been 6 months since I made an edit
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Demisexual Arthur for Pride month
for @burglarhobbit
#bbc merlin#merlin#merlin bbc#arthur pendragon#merlinedit#my edit#edits#colours#arthur#to be clear he's bi but it was hard to gif#he has no canon romance/attraction quotes about men#anyway ignore the fact it's been 6 months since I made an edit
501 notes
·
View notes
Text
Do you ship it? ((C*nt of the month edition) trying not to get banned)
Hi Matt! Since I know comedians these days love googling themselves and finding things about them that piss them off so they can whinge on stage about it, I have something to show you. Here's a list of people in history with disabilities who made more of an impact on the world than you could possibly imagine;
1: Michael Bisping, professional MMA fighter, had multiple fights at the highest level on the trot with an impressive win ratio with a missing eye, unbeknownst to anyone but him (would love to see you make fun of him)
2: Albert Einstein, most famed and celebrated professor of the 20th century, was on the autistic spectrum. Gave more to the world in a year than you did in your life.
3: Tim Burton, among the most famous directors, producers and animators in history, revolutionizing goth culture in his long career, is also autistic. He put in far more work than standing on stage and being a dick.
4: Stephen Hawking. Even an idiot like you knows this one. I'll leave it at that.
5: Hellen Keller, was literally deaf and blind for most of her life and was still a famous author. So whats your excuse for writing such shit, tasteless jokes?
6: Zack Gottsagen, an actor with down syndrome, became the first actor with down syndrome to present an Oscar.
7: Stevie Wonder. I imagine even he could see how utterly insufferable modern comedians are.
Nooooow then, lemme guess, "yOu'Re jUsT a PiSsEd oFf TrAnS pErSoN gEtTiNg OFfEnDeD" lemme tell everyone something about myself.
I'm not trans.
I'm straight.
I have no physical disabilities whatsoever.
I actually don't get along with a lot of lgbt people because they're, guess what, PEOPLE, very few of whom I get along with anyway. Its never once been to do with their identities or rights, but purely because, as is the case with every demographic, most of the ones I've met are pricks.
"BuT ThEy GEt OFfEnDeD-" yes, when you deliberately scroll twitter looking for offended lgbt people, you tend to stumble across them. Wouldn't ya know it?
Anyways. Comedy is dog shit. Getting up on stage and deliberately being edgy because you've lived no sort of life away from people who you know you'll offend is not talent. Its something a 14 year old with an inferiority complex would do. Thanks for being another nail in the coffin of actual, watchable comedy.
Oh yeah, and if you want an example on how to actually joke about domestic violence, cross-reference the name "Wilbur" on my blog. See, its funny when you're making fun of the abuser and the fact that they do these things, but not when you mock a victim and make fun of them for having these things happen to them. Never once do I mention his victims, its purely making fun of him and the sheer absurdity of his behavior in the scope of who he is. And we're on Tumblr, literally the symbol of people getting offended, and never once have I gotten backlash for those jokes, so you, as a man with a Netflix special, have no excuse for such lacking creativity.
One last thing, for my readers... anyone wanna bet some petty cash that a woman or three from his past are gonna come out with a few tasty bits of drama about ol' Matty boy, if you know what I mean?
#my polls#tumblr polls#shitpost#poll time#crossover#shipping poll#polls#rarepair#crackship#shipping#wilbur situation#dsmp wilbur#wilbur soot#wilbur support squad#wilbur supporters dni#lovejoy#matt rife#comedy#comedy is dead
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
182 Centimeters | Tall!F!Reader x Surprise
A great boon has been bestowed upon Aoi Todo. First, he got to meet Takada in person. Second, he gained a brother. Third, he was able to fight a special grade all in one month.
Is there anything else that could make this trip perfect?
Todo didn't think so until he lays eyes on you, standing in the middle of the hallway with luggage tucked under one arm and the other holding onto a rolling suitcase. He remembers now about Mai mentioning a late edition transfer student who was going to be joining in the school games a little late. He only wishes Mai had warned him about the other thing about you. The fact that you are an amazon in the flesh.
"She has to be 187," Todo thinks upon first seeing you and sizing you up from a respectable distance. "No, she's definitely closer to 185. Definitely, 185," he corrects as he tries to measure you by judging how far your head was away from the top door frame. When he glances down at your feet, he realizes his stupid mistake and smacks himself on the forehead. "I'm such an idiot. I forgot about her shoes." Taking your soles into account, he finally narrows down your height range. You have to be 182cm. An even 6 feet. That makes you taller than even Takada!
Todo's eyes widen upon the realization.
You had half his attraction factor right there; and with his help in training, you would definitely have the second half. He knows plenty of exercises that would make your ass look great and have the rest of your body strong enough to toss any curse. You guys could make training into dates, and dates would lead to the two of you making kissy faces. Aoi can already picture it. Naturally, you'd be admiring him, shirtless and glistening with sweat, unable to take your eyes off him. Then, you'd grow embarrassed when he would call you out on it and try to look away like you were never staring in the first place. Luckily for you, he wouldn't mind if you wanted to look at his chiseled chest a little while longer. Or better yet, touch it.
Todo isn't sure what he's done to deserve such luck. Perhaps the world is rewarding him for finally breaking his record of 1000 sit-ups in an hour or maybe it's the limited-edition lucky Takada-chan charm that arrived in a mail a week earlier working its magic?
Either way, this might be the best year of his life, Todo decides.
That is until he hears a familiar voice.
"Hey there! How are you doing?" Yuuji asks loudly as he walks up to your person. Todo should've known. Of course, his brother would sense best girl material walking into the building.
"My name is Yuuji. What's yours?"
"I'm (Name). I'm a new student here. I'm a little lost actually. Could you help me out?"
Even your voice sounds so cute! You were so perfect.
That means Yuuji had no chance with the way he was doing things now. Despite Todo wanting you for himself, he could never leave his brother to make such an embarrassment of himself. If the two of them are to battle for your love, it has to be a fair battle.
"Yeah, the dorms are thi—" Yuuji yelps as he's suddenly tugged away from you and dragged around the nearest corner, leaving you in a confused state where you stood.
"What’s the big idea?" Yuuji asks, breaking free from the grasp that held him.
"I'm trying to save you, brother! What do you think you're doing walking up to a woman like that so casually?" Todo asks.
It takes Yuuji a few seconds to realize that Todo meant you were the woman that couldn't be so casually spoken to since he's fairly sure you're a first-year like him. "I'm pretty sure she's the same age as us, dude."
This is worse than he thought. He's definitely going to have to give Yuuji the rundown on how to properly ask a girl out. "That doesn't matter. She's still a lady that requires finesse if you're going to try to ask her out," Todo says.
Sadly, they are too busy in their discussion to notice you getting impatient for Yuuji to return or to notice another one of your classmates passing them and heading in your direction. You are just thankful to finally have someone help walk you to your dorm and not ditch you instead.
For the rest of the day, Yuuji is stuck with Todo lecturing in his ear. The first time being at the baseball game against the Kyoto school.
"First, you need to set the mood. And by mood, I mean you need to get her attention on you. Do something to impress her without her knowing you're trying to impress her," Todo instructs as you round home base on long legs, which Todo claims is made for a goddess. You were able to get a score for the team thanks to Fushiguro's sacrifice bunt, and the two of you take a seat in the dugout.
"Shouldn't you be helping your team?" Yuuji asks Todo after seeing him compliment your score. Todo sighs. Obviously, Yuuji needs more lessons.
Eventually, Yuuji steps up to the plate for his turn. Naturally, he hits a home run. As he rounds home, he sees you applauding loudly. Your eyes perfectly on him. It definitely feels good to have a cute girl's attention, and Yuuji realizes that he did really want to ask you out. He wonders if Todo thinks that's a good way to set the mood.
The next time Todo decides to instruct Yuuji is after they all take their showers and decide to rest up before dinner. "Next, you need to leave a letter under her door. Something to pique her interest and make her want to meet up with you."
Luckily, Yuuji has seen this before in anime. "Right, right. I heard of that actually." He easily drafted a letter and slid it under your dorm door. It sounds like you're talking to someone else on the other side so Yuuji hopes you'll see it in time so the two of you can meet up in fifteen minutes.
"Finally, make sure the place you meet up is scenic," Todo says, nodding his head and closing his eyes to repeat the steps in his head as he follows his brother to the school's courtyard. Impress? Check. Letter? Check. Scenic meet-up place? Check.
It isn't until he feels Yuuji's hand on his shoulder and a quick thanks that Todo realizes his mistake. Yuuji rushes away from him to the other side of the courtyard where you're waiting with the letter in hand.
"My name is Yuuji. I don't know if you remember me from class."
"Oh, yes, I know! You hit that homerun. It was really great."
Todo stands in shock.
...He was so busy trying to teach that he actually forgot to pursue you first!
"Really? Thanks! I was just trying to make sure I actually hit it. I wasn't expecting it to go so far." Yuuji laughed. "So, (Name), I was wondering if you wanna go out together?"
Todo could cry. Actually, he already feels the tears coming down his face, but his brother could at least be happy. And if his brother is happy, that's all he needed!
"I'm sorry," you say sweetly. "I only showed up because I didn't want to stand you up, but the truth is I already like someone, and I wouldn't feel comfortable going out with someone when I have a crush on another person."
Todo's ears ring with your words. You already like someone!
"Oh, well, that's too bad, I guess. Thanks for telling me," Yuuji says with a disappointed yet understanding smile while Todo finds the opportunity to scoot in the middle of your conversation.
"Excuse me but your crush wouldn't happen to be on me by any chance?" he asks, hopeful.
You force a smile onto your face and tilt your head. "Sorry...Have we met?" you ask, nervously.
Todo gasps as he feels his world crashing down. Your date. Your marriage. Your kids. All gone, and it’s all black in his memory after that. The next thing he can recall is sitting in the eating area with Itadori. He remembers this heartache once before. "It's just like with Takada-chan..." he mumbles heartbrokenly.
"I told you already. We never went to the same middle school, and you never confessed to Takada," Yuuji grumbles, but Todo knows that Yuuji is only trying to make him feel better. He is so lucky to have such a good brother.
"Who...Who do you think it is anyway?"
Yuuji pauses.
He actually wonders that as well.
Then, they hear your voice ringing through the dining hall. Immediately, both sets of eyes are on you.
"Fushiguro-kun, I wanted to thank you for helping me get settled into the academy. My mom gave me a buy one, get one free for a sushi place for when I made some friends, so...I was wondering if you wanted to be my plus one?"
Then, Yuuji finally gets it. He had been ignoring the small conversations happening around him the entire time thanks to Todo's interruptions.
The Hall.
"Excuse me. I'm looking for the dorms. Gojo-sensei was supposed to show me, but he got sidetracked so I've been sort of left on my own."
"Of course, he did. Geeze, that guy." Megumi sighs. "You can follow me. I'll show you where some empty rooms near the other girls are."
"Thank you so much! I'm (Name) by the way."
"Fushiguro," he states plainly and simply as you struggle behind him with your luggage. "Is that stuff heavy? Want me to help you carry it?"
”Yes. My arms got numb while I was waiting. Thank you so much!”
The Game.
"Out!" Gojo says. Fushiguro rounds first base to head back to the dugout, but you at least made it home to score. You head to the dugout as well.
"That's too bad, Fushiguro. You'll get it next time," you say, sitting next to him.
"As long as Kugisaki made it to second and you made it home then it's fine. I'm not really too hyped up on winning anyway."
”Oh. I was really looking forward to seeing you get one.”
”Too bad. Guess you’ll have to wait,” and by “wait” Megumi had meant probably not ever but you laughed anyway even though you had got what he meant.
”I don’t mind waiting.”
The Dorms.
"Kugisaki-san said you could summon different shikigami animals."
"That's true."
"Would you mind showing me sometime? I love animals."
"What is your favorite?"
"I really like rabbits. Are you able to summon those?"
"Not at the moment, but I’ll show you when I learn it. How do you feel about dogs instead?"
”That cute dog was yours? That’s amazing.”
And now.
"Yeah, sure. I wasn't really in the mood for anything at school anyway," Fushiguro agrees, and your face lights up with a glow that could rival sunshine. Yuuji thinks if he squints he can see the anime hearts starting to dance over your head but Fushiguro didn't seem to mind.
Itadori could almost laugh. That's a new record in anyone ever befriending Fushiguro. The two of you must have hit it off really well. Yuuji smiles. In that case, he couldn't be upset. That must mean fate has something in store for you guys, and he didn't want to get in the way. "I guess girls really do like that cool, quiet type."
Meanwhile, Todo is crying in defeat. How could a woman like you like Fushiguro?
"He's so boring though..."
#yuji itadori x reader#aoi todo x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x y/n#megumi x reader
601 notes
·
View notes
Text
[15.08] badboy!seonghwa × reader
⇀ had you known that's why he confessed, would you have accepted him ? Or smack his annoyingly perfect face with your laptop ?
⇁ part 1 / 2
⇁ prologue part 1 / 2 / 3
Things had gone great between you and Seonghwa. You and he would often meet at your dorm or at the diner at least three times a week.
You'd ask him why you both never hung at his dorm but his answer was that he doesn't want the boys to disturb your 'quality time'.
Normally you'd question answers like that, but the way he looks at you and holds your hand made you forget why you even wanna ask that in the first place.
But like all things, everything dissipates with time.
Nearing the end of the semester, group projects lessen and solo assignments accumulate which put a strain between your and Seonghwa's hangout time. You've tried convincing him that you both can hang out whilst doing your solo assignments but you remembered how his eyes trailed after a girl as you spoke at one of your last hangouts at the diner.
Seems like he's lost interest in you too.
Which, it sure hurts, but you both were never official and neither had verbally confirmed to the other about their feelings. It sucks.
But you power through.
You pretend that his silence during class's group discussion didn't affect you, you pretend that when he immediately pack up his stuff to leave the class and only throwing you a polite smile didn't make your heart wrench, you pretend that him ghosting you didn't make you feel both embarrassed and angry at the same time.
You're light and breezy.
Heck, you're so light and breezy, you still go to that diner every Friday all alone. And it's not because you had hoped to see one particular man.
Even though you did.
When he was on a date with some girl who's obviously very pretty.
On the booth you both had 'claimed' as 'your booth' without ever verbally saying it.
"Hi, excuse me," a voice broke your train of thoughts.
You look up from your book to see a really handsome man standing in front of you with a smile on his face. He looks very handsome, definitely mixed-race, and he has this chill aura on him that is honestly refreshing to you.
"Sorry to bother you, but can I sit here?" He asked. You look around to see that there are a lot of other places left in the library where he could've sat.
Sensing your apprehension, the man raised both of his hands, "I'm not a creep or a weirdo, I'm just very particular about where I work,"
He's got a point. So you just nodded, "sure, it's not my table or anything anyways, you could've just taken a seat without asking my permission," he shrugged as he put his things across you, "I mean sure, but you seemed like you don't wanna be bothered and this particular spot has the best walking distance to anywhere at all and plus the secret charging port? Genius," he said, grinning proudly.
You raised your eyebrows at him, "you seem to know your way around the table, mister..." you trailed off to which he immediately caught on, "Hansol, Choi Hansol, but my friends calls me Vernon," he held his hand out for you to shake, "(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and why Vernon?" "My english name, I'm half American,"
And with that, you got yourself a new friend.
Vernon is a computer science major, and the other thing major about him is his nerdiness. And his hotness. Which is a ridiculous combination.
Ever since that day in the library, you both somehow find the other popping up everywhere. Just a day after your first meeting in the library, he came into the café you part-timed at. He came in to order 13 drinks and several pastries, shocking you at first but then he told you he lives in a frat house with 12 other guys and that he's not a caffeine addict.
Then you both bonded over the many sessions in the library which eventually venture out to sitting together during lunch, and then suddenly you both started meeting outside campus.
And this did not go unnoticed by Seonghwa.
"Hey, Seonghwa, how well do you know (Y/N)?" Hongjoong asked, breaking Seonghwa's glare on you and Vernon from all the way across the cafeteria.
Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at him, "(Y/N) from my statistics class?" As if he hadn't considered you as something more at some point, "I'd say well enough as a groupmate, why?" He asked back.
Hongjoong nodded towards you and Vernon with his chin, "Vernon there saw you both working together and he wants to make sure he won't be stepping on anyone's toes when he's making a move on her,"
At that moment, Seonghwa almost choked on his fries. Too surprised with the fact that you've possibly moved on from him so quickly.
It's only been a month and a half since you both stopped hanging out outside of obligation.
Hearing that made his blood boil and he's pretty sure it's not jealousy. Most likely territorialism. HE took interest in you first waaaaay before Vernon did.
The smile and laugh you give Vernon was supposed to be for him. He used to make you laugh so hard at any stupid pun he concocted in his head. No matter how stupid it is nor how much it doesn't make any sense.
To be completely honest, he didn't know why he pulled away from you in the first place. He had been so comfortable with you, never once had he ever let his guard down and just be carefree, not even with his closest friends.
He needs to get you back to him.
No matter what.
So he made his move the next time you both had statistics again.
Unlucky for him though, the professor decided to not have any group discussion that day which threw Seonghwa's plan out the window. But thankfully he still remembered your schedule, you don't have any class after statistics which means you'd be grabbing a simple lunch before your part-time job starts until 8 pm.
So he waited patiently for the bell to ring.
Legs bouncing in anticipation as his eyes flit towards the clock every five minutes.
When the professor finally dismissed the class (10 minutes later than he's supposed to, as per usual), he immediately put all his belongings back in his bag and ran after you. Somehow you've mastered the art of cleaning up quickly over the month and a half without him.
"(Y/N)! Wait!" Seonghwa called.
You stopped in your tracks and turn your head to see Seonghwa jogging towards you with that stupid, charming smile on his face.
Damn his good looks.
"Yeah? Is there something wrong?" you asked him when he caught up to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, confused as to why you'd think there'd be anything wrong.
"Ah!" you suddenly exclaimed, "Is this about my part of the presentation? Don't worry, I'm close to finishing it, I should be able to compile it in the PPT tonight by... 9.30-ish? I have to finish my shift at the café," you explained.
He chuckled at you, deep voice that you oh so missed ringing in your ears, "wha- no, (Y/N), I'm not here to talk about our project, I just wanna... talk with you," he said, tilting his head to the side slightly. It somehow made him look both hot and cute at the same time. Which doesn't make sense.
Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him while crossing your arms, "why? No offence, Seonghwa, but you've kinda been blowing me off for the past month and a half now, what makes you think I'd have anything to talk with you about?"
Those words coming out of your mouth shocked him. It's not like he didn't expect some apprehension from you, but hostility? Boy, you must've been really affected by his shitty doings.
"I-I- no, (Y/N), I haven't been blowing you off," bullshit, even he knows that, "I've just been really-" "really... what? Absent? Ghosty? Hot and cold? Whatever it is, Seonghwa, you don't owe me any explanation," you tried your best to not roll your eyes at him because honestly, how dare he blew you off and now acting like he didn't whilst hoping you don't notice what he has been doing.
What did he take you for? One of his brainless bimbos?
Surprised at your words, Seonghwa was left stunned. You waited for a solid 10 seconds for him to say something. Anything.
Literally, how hard is it to say sorry?
Realizing he wouldn't realize what he's supposed to do, you just shook your head at him, "I'll finish inputting and editing my part by tonight, I'll see you in class next week, Seonghwa," you said before walking away.
You would've thought that he'd take the hint and go back to ignoring you.
But now, of course not. He's stubborn and he plays by his own rules. It's an understatement to say that you were shocked when you saw him entering the café nearing the end of your shift.
Despite the shock of seeing him, you pretended like nothing's wrong and do what you're supposed to do to any other customer as per usual.
Heck, you'd give yourself a pat on the back, head, and butt for being so calm whilst handling Seonghwa. You managed to keep that "strictly professional" smile on your face as you take his orders, you didn't fumble when he made small talks as you typed in his orders into the computer (like really, who the heck said "good thing tonight's not cloudly, love the moonlight," ??), and you didn't flinch when your hands accidently touch as you hand him his strawberry frappucino.
Yes, the badboy strictly and secretly drink sweet, fruity drinks.
You'd thought that his presence was merely a coincidence. As he waited in his table, you had assumed that he's waiting for some girl (who isn't you, sadly) so all you wanna do is run out of there as soon as you can.
"Hey, Jaemin," you called your co-worker who's in the middle of sipping his 6 shot americano at 8 pm, "I'm gonna head out, okay? Think you can hold the fort until Yena's here? She said she has to turn in an assignment, that's why she's late,"
Jaemin just rolled his eyes at you, "(Y/N), I'm drinking coffee that's powerful enough to paralyze a horse, I can definitely handle the slow Wednesday night crowd," he said sarcastically to which you laugh.
After getting your things from your locker in the back room, you proceed to go out through the front door.
Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had followed behind.
You were only several steps away from the café when suddenly Seonghwa caught up to you and grab your hand.
Knowing that it's quite late and it's dark, Seonghwa should've known better. You honestly only feel slightly bad for punching his chest.
Slightly.
Like 2%.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Seonghwa you scared the devil out of me!" You exclaimed after realizing that it was just him, pulling your hand away from his grip. He coughed, trying to ease oxygen back to his lungs after you had brutally knocked them out.
"Guess I deserved that," he coughed out, but he was smirking as if he's amused by your attack, "sorry, I was just- I need to talk to you," he said, looking at you pleadingly.
"Well, it doesn't seem like that for the past month and a half, Seonghwa, you seemed just about done with me," you said while crossing your arms, your expression showing nothing but disdain at him. He seems to feel remorse after seeing how you looked at him. Never once did you showed any negativity nor hostility to him during the time you both spent together.
Seonghwa didn't really know what made him pull away from you. All he was sure of is that he felt something so strongly about you to the point that it scared him so much. He never felt the need to be with someone as much as when he was with you. He found himself thinking about you when you're both not together, he found himself only focusing on you and nothing else when you both are together, and he found his vulnerabilities open for you to access.
It scared him to hell and back when he realizes that there is a possibility of him wanting something more from you.
With you.
The man before you sighed, "I... Have no excuse for how I acted recently but believe me when I said that I regret pulling myself away from you because I'm scared, you're too good to and for someone like me, you deserve the best and I wanna be the best for you," he stepped closer to take both your hands in his, his eyes were genuine which rendered you incapable of being too mad at him, "I wish I could rewind the time and take back what I did, I never should have pulled away from you, I should have just told you the truth," he said.
For a second, he forgot about his image and he just let whatever he was feeling out, he wanted to make sure that you understand how he truly feels.
Both of you stood in silence, just staring at each other as he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand. With the way you're staring at him now, he was sure that your initial resolve had completely melted.
But suddenly from his peripheral vision, he saw Vernon coming out of a bookstore across the road and was looking around.
Remembering what prompted him to get closer to you again, he pulled you in close into his arms, a hand to your cheek and lips just centimetres away from his.
"So? Would you please give me another chance to show you how much you mean to me? Not as just some guy from your statistics class," his words made you chuckle and roll your eyes, "but as your boyfriend," he said before he could stop himself.
Your eyes widened, "m-me? With y-you? Boyfriend and girlfriend?" you choked out, not believing your ears in the first place. You wanted to make sure that he's not kidding, making a joke or making a fool out of you.
Instead of answering, however, he simply leaned in and places his lips softly on yours. The kiss was sweet, it conveyed how much he wants and misses you. For some reason it made you feel comforted, he feels like home and his arms makes you feel safe.
So then and there, you kiss him back as a form of an answer to him.
When you both finally pull away, you both could see dumb smiles decorating the other's face, proof of happiness over what just happen.
Remembering that you're in the middle of the road and there are people around you, you pulled away from his arms first but reached to tangle your hand in his.
"Come on, I believe I owed my groupmate my part of the presentation," you started as you walk, pulling him with you.
But as you walk, you turn your head at him to throw a flirty smirk, "boyfriend" you said, making him grin so wide, it could rival a Cheshire cat.
Maybe you and he isn't a bad idea at all.
All you can do now is hope that he won't break you.
#ateez#ateez scenario#ateez imagine#timestamp#ateez timestamp#ateez au#kpop boys#kpop scenario#kpop imagine#seonghwa#park seonghwa#smt#smt timestamp#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#kpop au
155 notes
·
View notes
Text
Midnight Snack
DannyMay Day 11: Midnight
(Also DannyMay Shadow, Scars, Power, Nature, Seasons, Teeth can you find them all?)
Word Count: 2271 (not beta’d. experimental writing)
Warning: mentions of ghost cannibalism, nothing explicit
@floralflowerpower – for that ghost cannibalism post
(it’s 1 am so i’m gonna sleep now. might post on AO3 later)
Edit: AO3 Added!
.
It was mid-October. The leaves are starting to turn yellow heralding the approaching autumn. Danny was happy because that meant the unusually hot weather is almost over. It wasn’t that he’s melting from the heat- quite the opposite, he’s probably the only person in Amity that isn’t sweltering under the sun with his cold core. But due to this exact same reason, his cooler body temperature also drew in water vapor which condenses on his skin, pooling into beads of water dripping down his shirt, making him appear extra sweaty. He can’t wait for the temperature to be cool enough to not change clothes every few hours. Good thing his clothes are purchased by the dozen; no one really noticed him wearing new sets of clothes throughout the day.
.
It was the contaminated fridge foods that disappeared first. No one missed them. At least until they can’t find the mutated turkeys for their annual Thanksgiving hunting event.
.
Danny yawned as he and his friends entered Fenton Works. Autumn is comfy. Just the right temperature where he can wear loose clothing and not be stared at for being underdressed for the weather. No ‘sweating’ either. His mouth closed with a click, a bit too fast on his new fangs. Danny winced. The fangs seemed to have grown longer overnight again. At this rate Danny won’t be able to pass them off as normal pointy canine teeth for much longer. It didn’t hurt but the itch is annoying. Danny took a detour to the fridge, grabbing an ice cube from the freezer and popped it into his mouth, absentmindedly chewing on the cubes to take the edge off the itch as they walked down to the basement lab. His parents are at a paranormal convention at a nearby city and won’t be back until tomorrow. Danny and his friends gladly took the opportunity to do their ‘Danny’s quarterly fitness test’.
Danny flipped on the light switch and walked to the center of the lab, transforming into his ghost form. “Okay I’m ready. What’s first on the list?”
Tucker dropped his bag and took out a piece of notebook paper, “Okay, first we gotta do the baseline measurements. Height, weight, temperature, and the ecto reading.” Sam dug through her sports bag, pulling out the measurement tape. She held it against Danny, eyes scanning the tape measurement numbers. “Still the same height.”
Tucker nodded, noting down the measurement in Danny’s health notebook. “Next, weight.” Danny stood over the scale. “Yup, still the same weight too.”
.
Then it was the ecto-samples that Jack misplaced in the kitchen fridge. Jack warned everyone a few days later (everyone knows to avoid glowing food on normal basis so the delayed warning is mostly just courtesy), but no one could find where it went and assumed it grew legs to join the other tiny ecto-samples lurking as their equivalent of household pests. (No matter how often Maddie tried to patch up the mouse hole it keeps reappearing in the same shape but in a different part of the house as if the original mouse hole got transplanted from its original location)
.
“Lunch Lady’s right. You need to eat more. You’re still as skinny as ever.” Sam remarked as Danny took the thermometer out of his mouth. “76 F. The ghosts keep attacking me all day and night. You’d think my parents would notice when a ghost sneaks pass them while they work in the lab but I triggered all their ghost alarms just by being in the house so they deactivated the system when I’m around. They must’ve kept it turned off during the day too.”
“Tough luck dude. Ecto scan next.” Tucker passed the scanner to Sam while Danny stood still for her to scan. The machine beeped, “Wow 6.8, that’s quite a jump from last quarter’s 5.1”
“Maybe it was from all the ghost fighting I did over the summer?”
.
As the leaves began to fall from the branches, ghost attacks lessened in frequency. Not looking the gift horse in the mouth Danny happily enjoyed the lack of ghost attacks to focus more on his studies. If he did well enough, he might even get Bs for his efforts. He also managed to avoid getting detention for the entire week much to the relief of everyone involved.
.
Two days before Thanksgiving, the Fentons finally remembered their turkeys. But by then it was gone. In a rush, they quickly purchased a pre-made turkey instead. While Danny enjoyed the fact that they’re having a normal family dinner for once, he can’t help but feel like there’s something off about the chicken. As if it’s missing a particular tangy or zingy flavor that would’ve made it richer in flavor. ‘Must’ve been because it’s overcooked.’
.
"Honey? Have you seen the new ecto-samples I placed in the basement lab fridge?" “Again Jack? This is the third time this month. Have you checked the upstairs fridge?” “I-ah was pretty sure I placed them in the correct fridge this time. Must be some no-good thievin’ ghost.” “I’ll set up the ecto-anti-theft, that’ll get ‘em good! No ghost can escape Jack Fenton for long!”
.
*Intruder Alert* *Intruder Alert*
Red lights peppered with robotic voice and alarm noises lurched Maddie into full alert mode. She quickly took stock of her surroundings and tried to wake Jack up. But Jack had his earplugs on and continued to snore blissfully. A loud knock on the door caught her attention. “What’s going on mom?” Jazz’s voice floated through the door. Maddie quickly rose to open the bedroom door, swiftly pulled Jazz in and locked the door. “Jazz dear, try to wake your dad up. I’ll go check on the intruder.” Maddie strode quietly to the door then paused, “Have you checked on Danny?” Jazz bit her lips and looked away for a moment “-ah yeah! Danny’s snoring so loud he can’t hear the alarm.” Maddie twisted the doorknob but paused, hesitating. “He’s fine mom.” Jazz reassures her. “If Danny wakes up, he’ll come here first. I’ll let him know what’s going on.”
The alarm rang loudly in her ears as she walked down the stairs to the basement lab, its loud ringing noise effectively covering up the sound of her footsteps. Reaching the basement floor, Maddie quickly crept over to hide behind the shelf on her left, eyes scanning the lab for the intruder.
The glass jars clinked as a shadow moved about the fridge. A very familiar shadow. That didn’t glow. Maddie turned on the lab lights. “Danny?” she started, carefully walking over to face him, her eyes still scanning him to check if he’s really her Danny. The faint, barely noticeable scar on his eyebrow from his attempt to fly off the tree when he was five is there confirming his identity.
“What are you doing down here-?” Maddie noticed the glowing jar in his hand, “and what exactly are you doing?” Danny hazily stared at her; eyes half-lidded. Maddie snapped her fingers to get his attention. Danny didn’t blink. “He's still not awake, Danny come on wake up!”, she shook his shoulders. “Huh? Wuzzat?” Danny groggily woke up. He blinked in confusion.
Finally aware of his surroundings, Danny looked down at his right hand that still held the glowing sample. “Aah!” Danny yelped dropping the sample, then realizing he dropped the sample, tries to catch the jar, fumbling clumsily. Maddie would’ve laughed if it was anywhere else but in this situation. “Danny, do you remember what you were doing?”
“I was doing my homework and was craving for a good cheeseburger?”
---
“And the half-opened jar of ectoplasm?”
“Pickles?”
---
“Dude are you for real? That was priceless!” Tucker crowed with laughter. Sam leaned away from Tucker to avoid the meat spittle, “Urgh! Gross Tucker! Swallow it before you speak!”
Danny grumbled into his glass of milkshake, “’s not funny Tuck. you didn't see her face. She was about ready to scan me for signs of ecto-possession. Good thing my lie about craving cheeseburger and opening the wrong fridge worked. Otherwise I’d be in big trouble if she scanned me now with my latest ecto-reading. Anyways I'm banned from the lab now.” Danny bit into his burger.
“So what really happened there dude? Did you seriously sleepwalk into the basement lab?”
“I think so? I don’t really remember anything before Mom found me in the lab. Only that I was feeling a bit hungry.”
.
The ghosts stopped coming. Everyone in Amity held their breath when there were no ghost attacks for two weeks straight, then a month. Then two months, three. No ghosts. They let out their collective breath. It might be too soon to hope but for now they will enjoy their ghost-free, perfectly ordinary life. It feels a bit strange to not have ghost related interruptions as part of their daily routine but they didn’t miss the ghost-related reconstruction expenses. The local insurance company employees received a nice bonus for the ghost-free month.
.
By the time March rolled in, Danny is restless. “Guys, there's definitely something big going on.”, he waved his hands for emphasis. “The Fenton portal is still open yet no ghost came through? Not even Boxy since the North District warehouse thing last month. There’s definitely something big going on. I've been taking the ghost-free break for granted for a while now and it helped save my grades but this is too big to ignore.”
“Dude, maybe it’s because you’re much more powerful now? Your latest reading last week is 8.2. None of the ghosts we’ve met so far is above 6 except for Vlad and the Ghost King.” Tucker suggested.
“You might have a point there, Tucker. We haven’t seen any of the ghosts bothering Vlad so far and he’s definitely higher than 6.” Sam added.
Danny frowned, “Maybe you’re right but I just have this nagging feeling that that’s not quite it.”
.
Danny entered the Zone with little fanfare. The area around the Fenton portal looked normal enough, the usual rocks and clouds of debris are still floating around in their usual areas. Danny aimlessly passed through the nooks and crannies, ducking under the endless spiral staircase, not entirely sure of what to look for. The Zone felt a bit quiet today but Danny haven’t been to the Zone that frequently to be certain about it.
.
The Ghost Zone, while still filled with random bits of odds and ends felt empty somehow. It wasn't until he sighted Skulker that he realized he hasn't seen any of the tiny blog ghosts nor the occasional passerby ghosts through his trip.
.
Luckily or unluckily, Danny quickly spotted someone he knew in the distance. As if called, Skulker turned his head towards Danny, then veered sharply to the left and flew fast in Danny's opposite direction, a first for the self-proclaimed hunter to not hunt his favorite prey. ‘Something's not right and Skulker definitely knows something.’ Danny thought.
Danny quickly chased after him; Skulker could never beat Danny at speed chase even at his best, and he won't be winning today's unplanned race either. “Hey Skulker! What’s going on?” Danny yelled over the gap between them but Skulker gave no reply, diving down deep into the reddish forest ravines of the island below. Not to be deterred, Danny did a quick aerial flip, adjusting his flight angle to follow down Skulker’s path. Danny soon caught up to Skulker and launched him into a nearby rock with sticky ectoplasm to hold him still long enough to talk. Skulker ejected from his metal suit but Danny was faster and caught the real ghost before he can escape.
.
(Why is Skulker fleeing?)
.
"Hey Skulker, not hunting me for once?" Danny asked teasingly.
Skulker paled (Danny never knew ghosts can turn pale) and squirmed even more. Danny's smile dropped.
"What’s going on Skulker?" he asked worriedly. “None of the ghosts have appeared in the human world and the Zone looks empty somehow”
Skulker squirmed a bit more but realizing he’s stuck finally said, “Ghost Child, haven’t you ever wondered why the Infinite Realms is never overcrowded?”
Danny frowned, puzzled as to where this leads to. “How is this related to this situation?” Skulker stared at Danny stunned.
“What?” Danny asked, suddenly self-conscious, “-was there something I was supposed to know about?”
Skulker sighed, unconsciously loosening a bit of his tension, “You’re so young. So very young. We Ghosts don’t fade as fast as Newcomers arrive from your world. In the Realms, there's a natural system that keeps the population under control. An ecosystem. There's predator and there's prey. And then there's the Apex Predator. There's a reason why Dark was feared. It wasn't just for his harsh rule. It was because he was the Apex Predator.”
Danny struck at the odd wording, "’Was’? Was that because he got sealed?” Danny paused, “But wait- if he's sealed, he would still be the Apex predator. So how-? Wait. Did I?"
Skulker nodded, "Good you're catching on fast. By defeating Pariah Dark, you have proven to the Realms that you're the best candidate for the Apex Predator. And with the new status comes sets of conducts, one your body instincts know well. You've been culling down the uncontrolled excess from Pariah Dark's sleep quite fast. Your hunger would settle down soon of course once balance has been re-established in the Realms."
“But- How- Wait- What-?” Danny looked down at his hand “Hey Skulker--!” but his hand is bare.
.
Danny’s lips tasted oddly tangy, energized.
.
.
.
-----
(Skulker might've slipped out of Danny's slack hand while Danny is in shock. Danny might've bit his lips hard enough to bleed. It's not that hard with his new fangs. But this is just speculation...)
#midnight snack au#danny phantom#dannymay2021#DP ghost cannibalism#goldpost#Skulker BS'd on the spot and I took it as worldbuilding material#the added last part is the original ending#interpretation of the final ending is now up to you#😏😏😏
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
February 18, 2021: The Danish Girl (Review)
Before I go into ANYTHING else...let’s talk about the actual Danish Girl, Lili Elbe, or Lili Ilse Elvenes.
Oh, uh, full warning, this is gonna be LONG, so skip to the bottom if you’re just here for the Review! OK, history time!
Now, what the film The Danish Girl notes about the beginning of the transition is pretty spot-on, from what I can tell. After marrying portrait painter Gerda Gottlieb in 1904, the two lived in Italy and France before moving to Paris in 1912. Yeah, that’s over 14 years before they’re shown doing so in the movie. Inaccuracy #1. In 1908 (here comes number 2), Elbe (Einar at the time) painted this portrait of trees along a fjord in Denmark.
Yeah, NOT in 1926, as the film says. But, yeah, that’s a nitpick, I recognize that. Anyway, the revelation came when model Anna Larssen (not “Ulla”, which is Inaccuracy #3) was late, and Gerda asked Elbe to fill in. When Larssen eventually showed up, she suggested the name “Lili”. Basically, this scene from the movie was pretty goddamn accurate.
Except for the dates, anyway. Because while the movie mostly takes place around 1926 and afterwards, this probably happened closer to 1920, in Paris. So, yeah, Lili spent a LOT more time as Lili in real life. Additionally, Lili was pretty goddamn public about the whole thing, inviting guests and hosting parties as herself, rather than as Einar. At the same time, Gerda was getting pretty goddamn famous for her paintings of Lili, like this one.
Which, yeah, are really good! Also, they were considered lesbian erotica by many! YEAH! And here’s a fun fact: Gerda may not have been straight-up straight. Yeah, the film and the book (we’ll get there) kind of ignored the fact that their marriage was annulled by the Danish government, not by the two of them. Inaccuracy #4. Now, obviously, their relationship ended, and Lili ended up getting together with a man (we’ll get there, too), but there are a LOT of unanswered questions about Gerda’s sexuality, and views of sexuality (which is barely hinted at in the “male gaze” speech in the beginning).
After the annulment, the two just...drifted apart. Their relationship dissolved, and the details on that are fuzzy. By 1930, Lili was headed on a completely different path. She wasn’t a painter like Einar (and it turns out that she thought of them as two entirely separate people, like two souls living in the same body, which the movie got mostly right), and she was mostly unsatisfied with her career, life, and other things. And that is where Drs. Erwin Gohrbandt and Magnus Hirschfeld come in, NOT Kurt Warnerkros...yet. He’d come in for the other five (YES FIVE) surgeries, but wouldn’t be involved with the first. Inaccuracy #5, and also #6, while we’re at it! See, the film would make you think that Lili was the first complete gender reassignment surgery, but she was actually the second. The first would be Dora Richter, in a procedure that was performed by Dr. Hirschfeld from 1922 - 1931. YEAH. BIG-ASS INACCURACY THERE. Here’s Dora, by the way:
Anyway, Lili had her first procedure, to remove the testicles, performed in 1930. In the same year, the divorce between Lili and Gerda was finalized, and Lili legally changed her name. Two more procedures were performed, the first to implant an ovary, and the second to remove the penis and scrotum. Inaccuracy #7, by the way. And, hey, let’s go for number 8! Let’s talk about Henrik, a dude who didn’t exist. He and Hans were both very loosely based on an art dealer named Claude Lejeune.
Claude was an art dealer (there’s the Hans part), and was indeed in love with Lili. They got together around early 1931, and he’d actually been in love with her for a good, long time. He proposed to marry Lili, and she accepted, also hoping that the two would be able to have children together. But to do that, it was believed that Lili would need a uterus. And, obviously, having children would be MILES more complicated than that in basically EVERY way, but this was early in medical science’s understanding of some of that biology.
In any case, however, Lili would need both a uterus and a vagina to feel whole. And so, the fourth surgery was scheduled. And she had that surgery in 1931, a couple of weeks after Dora Richter successfully had the same surgery performed. But, sadly, Lili wouldn’t be so lucky.
Lili’s body rejected the uterus, and while transplant rejections of any kind wouldn’t necessarily be fatal now, they definitely were back then. They attempted to remove it, but that subsequent 5th surgery caused infection, which caused a fatal heart attack three months later. Lili Elbe died on September 13, 1931, at the age of FORTY-EIGHT. Yeah, Inaccuracy #9.
By the way, you may be wondering: what about Dora Richter, the first successful person to get these surgeries? Well, she disappeared...in Germany...as the Nazis were coming into power...yeah. Fuckin’ YIKES.
And so, that’s the true story of Lili Elbe. And there are far more differences than that, I’m sure, but those 9 inaccuracies aren’t insignificant, that’s for sure. Although, it probably doesn’t help that the movie was based on a fictionalized book.
Oh, uh...did I not mention that? Yeah, this movie is based on The Danish Girl, by David Ebershoff, which means that this film is essentially a cinematic game of telephone. Which, uh...not great. Granted, Ebershoof made some other...interesting changes, which the film didn’t inherit. In the book, for example, Gerda is named Greta, and is American? Um...why? I dunno, it’s kind of weird. Oh, and that’s not including one more issue with the movie. But, you’ve waited long enough, huh? Recap of the film is here and here if you wanna check that out! Let’s get to the Review already!
Review
Cast and Acting: 8/10
I am...conflicted. So let me start here by saying that the acting in the film in and of itself is fantastic, all-around. Not a weak actor in here, that’s for sure. Let’s start with the side-roles, for once. Ben Whishaw, Matthias Schoenaerts, and Amber Heard are all good. Heard’s accent is a little shaky, but they’re still all solid performances. OK, how about Alicia Vikander? She’s great! And she won the Oscar for...Best Supporting Actress. Um...wait...Supporting? But not Best Actress? Uh...OK. That’s a little weird, let’s be honest here. But, Alicia Vikander did deserve that win over...oooooooh, Rooney Mara in Carol? Maybe not...damn.
And OK...let’s get into the elephant in the room, huh?
Eddie Redmayne is fantastic as Einar Wegener/Lili Eber, and I genuinely think he had a great shot to win Best Actor...but, yeah, Leonardo DiCaprio definitely deserved it, I think that goes without saying. Hell, that year had a SOLID line-up for best actor. And Redmayne had even won it the year before for The THeory of Everything, another biography where he played Stephen Hawking. But ALL of that said...HNNNNNNNNNG, there should have been a transgender actor cast in this role, ideally. Now, I’m fully aware how difficult that would be, as Hollywood isn’t extraordinarily diverse in terms of including trans actors in massive mainstream projects. It’s better now, but it’s nowhere near ideal. But if anybody knows an actor who would’ve fit this role and performed it well, I’m DEFINITELY interested. So, despite that controversy, Redmayne was pretty goddamn great in this role. But, uh...that doesn’t mean everything is perfect...
Plot and Writing: 5/10
OK, that seems low, I know. But it’s pretty goddamn damning that this movie was based off of a heavily fictionalized book instead of the actual life story of Lili Eber and Gerda Gottlieb. And because of that, there are not only some missed opportunities, but some straight-up damning inaccuracies. That’s a set of pretty poor decisions, I tell you what. Not sure why Lucinda Coxon came to that decision when adapting this screenplay, but it wasn’t exactly nominated for Best Screenplay. And the writing certainly isn’t bad, but it is...overly saccharine sometimes, especially for a film based (loosely) on a true story. I dunno...just not the best set of choices here, sorry to say.
Directing and Cinematography: 8/10
Tom Hooper shouldn’t direct musicals. However, since this wasn’t a musical, directing and cinematography here is pretty damn good! Real talk, this is a gorgeous looking movie, and the way shots are framed are fantastic. Perfect? Weeeeeeeell...given the fact that painting is a main focus of the film, for both Gerda and Einar, there should’ve been more painter-quality shots in here, I think. And while the cinematography by Danny Cohen is pretty fantastic, I can’t say that it’s perfect. Still, in terms of lighting and general skill, it’s still quite a good looking movie.
Production and Art Design: 10/10
But the deficiencies in the direction are EASILY compensated for by the production design! Like, hot DAMN, this is a good looking movie, like I said! That goes from the construction of the sets, to the gorgeous outfits all over the place, especially Lili’s outfits. Some iconic pieces of wardrobe there, that’s for sure! But if I have ONE complaint...this movie never once felt like the 1920s. Yup, good old anachronistic complaints from me again! Yeah, I’ll change the record one of these days, I promise. But even with that, it’s hard to ignore just how good this movie looks, to be honest. It’s just...gorgeous.
Music and Editing: 8/10
As I type this, I’m listening to a track of the film on YouTube, and it is a beautifully delicate tune. I’m not sure that I’d be able to associate it with the film if presented to me on its own, but it’s definitely a nice track to listen to by itself. Playlist worthy? For somebody, almost certainly, but not for me. One of these days, a film like that’s gonna pop up, I swear. But for now, Alexandre Desplat and his score are gonna stay off my iPhone. This really is a nice score, though, I promise. Editing by Melanie Ann Oliver is pretty good as well, and I’ve no complaints about it, to be honest. Overall, this side of things was quite nice, if not the most notable thing I’ve ever seen or heard.
I might have been a little harsh, but it’s still got an 78%.
This is a good movie, but...I dunno, the inaccuracies do bug me. Hell, there are WAY more than what I’d mentioned, and I mentioned a lot. Not to mention the other glaring issue: no trans people at any stage of the production? Really? No script consultants, no writers, no NTOHING? That’s...egregiously bad. Like, holy shit, guys. And, yes, this includes Redmayne, because even though he performed admirably in the role...I dunno. I’m no expert on ANY of this, as a cissexual dude with cissexual experience, but it feels a little...reductive, is all. Like I said, if any other actors have been suggested for this role, I’d love to know. The whole thing feels...I don’t know, just not great.
And by the way, that’s without even TOUCHING the question as to whether or not this film is authentic to the trans experience. Again, I have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA, but I’ve also heard that this film isn’t universally acclaimed in the trans community, so to speak. And I’m definitely interested in the reasons for that. All I know is this: from the perspective of a complete outsider, I was intrigued by this films view of the transgender experience, specifically as seen in the earliest days of those realizations happening and being publicly known and reported on. And that’s all I can really comment on, in truth.
WHOOF. That was a goddamn topic, huh? And now, I’m going to continue on the the month of romance with...wait, the 19th is my 5-year anniversary with my GF, pictured here:
Ravishing. Anyway, I think I’ll let her pick from my choices for this next one. Hold on a sec...OK, then. Sing it with me now! AND DO I DREEEEEAM AGAAAAIN, FOR NOW I FIIIIIIIIIIIIIND...
February 19, 2021: The Phantom of the Opera (2004)
#the danish girl#tom hooper#david ebershoff#eddie redmayne#lili elbe#einar wegener#alicia vikander#gerda wegener#ben whishaw#sebastian koch#amber heard#matthias schoenaerts#romance february#romance film#LGBT film#user365#365 movie challenge#365 movies 365 days#365 Days 365 Movies#365 movies a year#usersophie#userel
97 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stark Spangled Banner
Ch7: Eight Letters, Three Words, One Meaning
Summary: Katie and Steve’s relationship is blossoming, but they’ve still not come out to the rest of the team. Well, not yet anyway…
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Warnings: Bad language, spiders (yeah, okay, I need a warning for those eight legged freaks) Smut (NSFW, 18+)
A/N: More credit to my edit partner, @angrybirdcr
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Chapter 6
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
June 2013
Katie was trying to listen, she really was, but the warmth of the June sun was lulling her to sleep, despite the fact she had only gotten up two hours or so ago. She was trying to focus on the intelligence that had come out of the Department of Damage Control, that a Warehouse in Columbia was housing a load of the alien based weapons for sale on the black market.
Maybe if she just closed her eyes….
She found herself daydreaming. About her favourite thing to day dream about. Steve. It was now five weeks since they had started dating and two weeks since they had been caught by Tony. Since then they’d spent pretty much every other evening wrapped around one another post making out. Sometimes it would just be a bit of heavy kissing, sometimes there would be a little more. Like when he had lain over her on the bed, kissing her neck, lips, chest, before slipping his hands into her panties for the first time as he’d coaxed her to completion that way before she’d returned the favour, wrapping her palm around him, bringing him off.
And then yesterday had been her birthday, which had brought her one hell of a present.
Katie had been on at him for as long as she could remember for a ride on his motorbike so, amongst other presents, Steve had Clint help him research the best helmet he could get and he’d bought her one, much to her excitement. She’d squealed and then squealed some more when he had revealed they were off out for the afternoon. He’d packed an evening picnic and taken her up to Rock Creek Park where they’d eaten subs, muffins and were now laid back on the blanket, her head resting on his chest.
“Your hair smells different…nice different…” He nuzzled his nose into it.
“Oh, it’s a different shampoo…” She grinned “It was in the hamper of ridiculously expensive toiletries and make-up that Tony sent me. Or should I say Pepper, as he will have had no idea about any of that stuff…”
“Smells of cookies.”
“It has oatmeal in so you’re not far off.” She smiled, looking up at the sky.
The pair of them stayed still, his hand straying into her hair before he broke the calm silence.
“You know, when I was a kid…me and Bucky used to play a game, spotting shapes in the clouds” he said
“Tony used to do that with me.” she smiled, shifting her head so that the back of it still lay across his chest but she could see upwards “See, there’s a dog…”
“Looks more like a cow to me…” He cocked his head to one side.
“A cow?” she snorted, “Where have you ever seen a cow look like that?”
The two of them stayed like that for another hour or so, playing shapes and making conversations before the sun began to stray behind the trees. Reluctantly Katie agreed it was probably time to go home.
“I’ve had,” she undid the strap on her baby blue and silver helmet, pulling it off with a flourish as she stepped off the bike outside her apartment, “the most amazing birthday, thank you…”
She reached up and pressed a kiss to his lips.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it doll.” He said gently as she reached into her back pocket for her key card. Smiling he dropped his hand to her waist as they walked to the elevator. When the doors opened, Katie tugged on his hand gently and led him in after her. Once in her apartment, he allowed just enough time for them to remove their jackets and for Katie to hang her new helmet in pride of place on the hooks before his lips crashed onto hers, the kisses growing deeper, and he hooked his hands round the back of her thighs and easily picked her up. She giggled, wrapping her legs round his waist, her nose brushing against his as he carried her up the stairs, dropping her gently on the bed. She spread her legs making room for him so he could settle his hips in between the space they made as she wrapped her arms round his neck, his hands gently running up the side of her ribs, pulling off the t-shirt she was wearing, cupping her face in his hands. He let out a soft moan as her hands started to slide down his chest and it was clear she had intentions of using her hands, if not her mouth as well, on him again but that wouldn’t do, not on her birthday.
“Uh-uh not tonight baby girl.” He said, gently grabbing her wrists.
She frowned and looked genuinely pissed off that he was stopping her. As she pouted at him, he simply smiled “It’s your birthday, after all.” He whispered into her mouth before setting her hands down on the pillow on either side of her head before turning his attention to her chest, sucking and biting through her bra, listening to the sounds she made right by his ear. He continued his affections downwards, pressing small kisses all the way down her body until his nose was skimming along the waistband of her jeans. She let out a groan of delight as he brought his hands up to undo them and started guiding them down.
The idea of tasting her like this had been on his mind since she had first done it to him but he was utterly lost, with no idea on what to do next. He glanced up at her, swallowing slightly and instantly understanding that he needed encouragement, Katie reached down to tangle her fingers in his hair, raising her hips to help him remove the jeans and her underwear. She knew he had never done this before, but now, as she gently bent her knees to allow him access she heard him let out a soft moan of his own and watched him as he snuck one glance up at her and then set his mouth on her.
It took a while, her guiding him gently, telling him what she liked, what was working and what wasn’t but she didn’t really have to give him too much direction. What he lacked in skill he made up for with dogged determination and eventually, her breathy directions died in her throat and then she was moaning and writhing in pleasure as his mouth worked her over, one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets. Her sweet, salty tang on his tongue set every nerve in his body on edge and the more he tasted the more he wanted.
Katie could hear and feel him groaning with each lick and suck he gave her. He was aroused, really aroused and surprised to find the warm feeling across his stomach was getting harder to ignore the more he worked her. When he focused his attention back on her little bundle of nerves, licking at it before closing his lips around it and sucking it into his mouth she was done. Her body convulsed, her back arched and she let out a strangled cry, his name on her lips and it made him slightly smug to hear. Steve held her down gently, one strong arm over her small waist and as her hand gripped his hair harder and she groaned brokenly once more, he felt himself go, tipping over the edge and he shuddered gently as his own release washed over him. Katie pushed her hand into his hair, having become too sensitive, gently moving his mouth away from her. Taking the hint, he obliged, kissing his way back up her body, pressing his mouth onto hers.
“Good?” He asked breathlessly, staring at her, seeking confirmation despite the fact she lay completely and utterly undone beneath him.
“God, yes.” Her voice was gruff, as she kissed him, the fact that he could still clearly taste her on his tongue meant that she would be able to too, and the fact that she didn’t care made him shudder, though that also might have something to do with the mess he’d once again made in his pants like a horny schoolboy.
As they kissed she began to trail her hand back down his chest reaching for his buckle but he stopped her again, pulling away.
“I err….” he trailed off, dropping his head slightly embarrassed. But he needn’t have been. The fact that he’d gotten off on giving Katie what was, frankly, the best orgasm she could remember having made her grin and she cocked her head to one side as she eyed him, tipping his head up to look at her.
“Best birthday present ever.” She smirked, drawing a laugh from him before he kissed her again.
“Agent Stark!” Fury barked, jerking her awake. Damned, had she actually fallen asleep in briefing? Steve was perched on the edge of Fury’s desk, and Katie could tell he was fighting to keep a smirk off his face.
“Sorry Sir, didn’t get much sleep last night.” She avoided looking at Steve as she spoke, her mouth tugged upwards at the corners.
Besides her she heard Clint give a snigger which he hastily turned into a cough. Of course he knew about the pair of them. Him, Natasha and Evans being the only people on the team that did although Katie and Steve had both admitted they didn’t really know how much longer they could keep it clandestine.
“So as I was saying,” Fury shot Katie another look as Natasha played along, patting Clint harshly on the back. “Salaad Ali.” Fury pointed at the picture of the main man responsible for the arms ring we had been tracking over the middle East . “Do we know much about him?”
“He’s a sick bastard” Clint sat up, suddenly all business. “Came across him on an op in 2009. Apparently when he was active as part of the regime under Sadam Hussein he was tasked with taking out a Kurdish fighter cell that was stockpiling munitions. He was undercover for a month. Then one night he kidnaps a guard, peels off the skin from his right hand, completely, and wore it like a glove to gain access to their stores using the biometric scanners.”
“That’s about power.” Katie took a breath as she rose from her seat. “Mocking and goading the people who he’s stealing off. Look at me, not only did I infiltrate your organisation, I maimed your security guard in the process.”
Fury invited her to take the floor and she stood up and spoke confidently. “From what I’ve read he’s obviously an organised offender.” Steve had to smile, before she had trained as a sniper after Clint had discovered she had a natural eye for a shot, she had joined STRIKE as a Mission Analyst-slash- Target Profiler. And she was good at it. “He’s sophisticated in his approach, and is a meticulous planner.”
“You have to be to pull off the sort of crimes he has, these are big jobs.” Clint said. Katie nodded as she paced slightly, the way she always did when she was thinking.
“I also believe from the other things he has allegedly done, the murders, rapes…he’s a control freak, a sadist, type of person who will always want the last word in the argument so to speak. Therefore, if he knows someone is on to him, he won’t come quietly.” She stopped by Steve and looked at Fury, then round the room at the assembled team. “We should be prepared for a fight. And they’ll be fighting to kill, not wound.”
“Can’t the air force just blow the place up?” Rumlow asked as Steve adjusted his stance slightly, his hand’s dropping to the buckle on his belt as he studied the man before his attention turned to Fury.
“If it was that simple we would have already sent in an air strike.” The Director shook his head, pushing a button to show a map. Besides him, Steve felt Kate shift a little and he stole a glance at her to see she was concentrating on the screen, her chin resting on the closed fist of her left hand, elbow supported on her right arm which was crossed over the front of her body. Steve watched as her eyes flicked over the details and he turned to the screen as well, immediately spotting what the problem was.
“There’s a civilian village less than five hundred yards away.” He sighed. “That place goes up so do they.”
“Exactly.” Fury nodded.
“Not to mention those weapons are really volatile.” Katie took a deep breath. “If they have as many as we suspect, then if they go up, it’s gonna leave one hell of a hole.”
“Which is why you need take the base and clear out the weapons.” Fury nodded. “And bring Ali in, I have some questions for him before we turn him over to the Authorities.”
*****
They decided to operate under the cover of darkness, to give them the element of surprise. Once they had some form of plan- a heat scan as they hovered over the building told them how many people were in the building and once they had established that they moved in. They operated as a well-organised unit, quickly and meticulously flushing out the hostiles.
It was all going too smoothly, especially as Ali was still in the building. Capturing him was surprisingly easy, even if it was Natasha that found him. In hindsight, that should have been a warning sign they probably should have spotted. As Rumlow and Natasha were leading him away, the team already having dispatched the rest of the hostiles, Steve, Clint and Katie headed deeper into the warehouse to locate the weapons themselves when, just as they found a hidden room off the main service corridor, there was a loud clicking noise and Clint stopped dead.
“Shit.” He muttered and Katie wheeled round and he held his hand up to her. “Don’t move.”
“What…” Katie followed his gaze and swallowed when she saw his foot resting over a small metal pad on the creaking floor boards of the first floor room they were in.
“Yeah…we have a problem.” Clint sighed, looking at her then to the Captain “Should have seen that one coming.”
He’s the type of guy that will want the last laugh, so if he knows someone is on to him, he aint coming quietly
Steve scanned the floor and spotted another trigger a few feet away from Katie. Pulling her to the left away from it he looked around the room.
“What’s going on?” Rumlow asked over the coms.
“The son of a bitch has the place rigged.” Clint wiped his brow “ I’ve triggered some kind of sensor pad.”
“If he’s laying traps in here then the weapons have to be nearby…” Steve said, as Katie dropped to her hands and knees, torch shining through the dirty, well-worn floorboards.
“The device has to be under here…” she said, and she began to follow the wire across the floor, keeping her eyes peeled for more booby-traps, as Steve carefully made his way into a small room off to their right avoiding another trigger as he went. His eyes scanned the various crates of the familiar shining metal weapons and he sighed.
“Found the jackpot…”
“So have I.” Katie said, stopping crawling as the wire ended. She could just about make out the metal box, a red light flashing ominously through the gaps.
“Ok, we’re coming to you.” Rumlow spoke again
“No!” Steve hastily turned and walked back into the main room. “We don’t know how many of these he has laid around the place. Wait for my instructions.”
He glanced over at Clint who was stood, motionless, his eyes focussed on his foot.
“Barton, you okay?”
“Peachy, Cap” he said, looking up “Guess my Hawk eyes let me down”
“Happens to the best of us.” Steve looked at him as Katie stood up, pointing to her foot.
“It’s under there.”
“How big is it?” Steve asked.
“It doesn’t matter how big”. She said gently “It explodes then those weapons go up…” She trailed off.
And Clint dies no matter what, and as they wouldn’t ever leave a man behind, so did they.
"We need to start evacuating civilians.” Steve took a deep breath, “Rumlow…”
“We can start clearing the village but how many we’ll clear before-“
“Do what you can.” Steve cut him off. “Romanoff, have a chat with our prisoner, see if you can get him to talk, tell us how we turn this thing off”
“Yeah, not gonna happen.” She replied, not a trace of her usual biting sarcasm in her voice. “He’s out cold. Suddenly decided he didn’t fancy being captured after all and got a bit rough on the way up. I had to take him out.”
“Shit.” Katie muttered as Steve let out a long sigh, turning to face her as she stood, thinking something over. It wasn’t a great idea, but was the only chance they really had. So she decided to roll with it.
“Can you help me get the floor boards up?”
“Won’t that disturb the bomb?” He asked, frowning a little.
“Not if you do it here.” she moved about six foot to her left. “I can get underneath, see if I can disable it.”
Steve looked at her, then to Clint before sighing. It didn’t look like they had a choice.
“Alright.”
A minute later, Vibranium shield and steel knives had worked their magic as Katie and Steve had prised a space big enough for Katie to lower herself into, head first, torch in her mouth, phone held in front of her, on her stomach. She crawled over to the bomb and looked at it.
“It’s on a fucking timer too!” she sighed, swallowing as the timer had less than 5 minutes on it.
“How long?” Steve asked.
“Long enough…” she said, deciding not to tell them. She snapped a photo before dropping the torch to the boards beneath her so that it illuminated the dark space in front of her.
“Someone patch me through to Lawson …now.” she spoke
Less than forty seconds later Lawson’s British accent hit her ear.
“Nova.” he said.
“We have a situation.” She spoke calmly, although she was anything but. She didn’t like tight spaces at the best of times and there was a huge spider sitting to her right. And she fucking hated spiders. And she was facing a bomb, now with three minutes left on the clock. Swallowing her fear she sent the photo to Lawson’s computer, her hands shaking “Hawkeye triggered this, can we disarm it?”
A moment’s pause.
“Yeah, we can. I can talk you through this…”
Steve swallowed and looked at Clint, the man seemed surprisingly calm considering, but then he was used to staying still for long periods of time on stakeouts. He gave Steve a slight shrug and the Captain looked back to the hole Katie had shimmied into.
“You’re gonna need a knife or something sharp to cut the wires”
“Got it.” Katie wriggle to free the standard issue Swiss Army Knife which contained every single gadget known to man from her thigh pocket.
“Ok so first thing is first, you’re going to need to lift it out slightly to get to the wires ok. There should be 3…blue, white and red….but this is important Stark so listen.”
“Listening”
“The blue wire has to remain intact and in contact with the sensor under Hawkeye’s foot. So don’t cut it or pull it ok?”
“Don’t pull or cut blue, right.”
“You need to gently lift it out towards you, watching that blue wire, and turn it to the side so you can see the red and white wires…”
Taking a deep breath, with trembling hands she gently reached out and slowly, carefully turned the bomb to the side, letting out a small squeak of fear as the huge black spider moved closer.
“You okay?” Steve asked, hearing her noise.
“There’s a spider in here the size of a fucking Chihuahua.” Her voice was a slightly higher pitch than normal. Steve sighed, any other time her fear of spiders would amuse him. Not now.
“It’s gonna be more scared of you than you are of it.” He tried to placate her, but as he spoke he knew that was utter bullshit.
“ Lawson…I’ve got it…what now?”
“Cut the white wire first and then the red.”
Katie took a deep breath, her hands really where shaking now, and she took a deep breath trying to focus, ignoring the timer which was now counting down from one minute thirty. She reached out with her left to hold the white still and her right clutched the knife as she went to work. The wire was tough but in 3 cuts it was severed. She moved to do the same to the red, but on the third cut the knife slipped and slashed into the palm of her left.
She let out a yell of pain. “Shit”
“Katie?” Steve dropped to his knees, trying to see into the space but all he could see was her back.
“My hand slipped, I’m okay.” She assured him. Taking another breath she took another three slashes at the wire and eventually it gave. The light on the bomb went out and the timer stopped on twenty-five seconds.
“Boom.” She exhaled, her head dropping in relief, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Nice work Nova.” Lawson let out a breath.
Katie swallowed, “Thanks Lawson…errr boys, a little help?”
Steve moved first as she shuffled backwards and managed to get one strong arm round her waist and gently she folded herself up so that he could lift her out.
“You alright?” He asked and she nodded, breathing heavily, but he could see from the tears in her eyes she wasn’t. Before he could say anything, Clint had pulled her into a hug as Steve instructed the team to move in for extraction of the weapons.
“Thanks Nova.” Clint said as she stepped back.
Steve gently moved towards her and turned her to face him, “It’s okay, Doll, you did it.”
“Guess I did.” Katie’s breathing was still deep as the magnitude of what just happened overwhelmed her. She began to shake and Steve simply wrapped her in his large arms and she pressed her face into his Kevlar clad chest and he rest his chin on her head, looking at Clint who gave him a little jerk of the head, before he wandered out into the corridor to find the team.
Steve pulled back and gently took her hand, looking at the place her knife had gashed through the leather on her palm gloves. It looked fairly superficial, the leather having protected her in the main “That doesn’t look too deep but we’ll get the medic to look at it.”
Katie couldn’t feel it. She was numb, numb from how close that bomb had been from going up.
“Seconds…” she said, swallowing “Seconds, that’s it, we were seconds away from going up.”
“Hey…” Steve moved back slightly so he could look at his girl. “That doesn’t matter now, you stopped it. Everyone’s okay.”
The blood was pounding in her ears as she looked up at his helmet clad face, his eyes warm as they locked onto hers. She was starting to lose it, and if she didn’t find a way to ground herself she knew she was going to break down into sobs, and she didn’t want that. Not on a mission. Steve watched as she reached up to undo the clasp at the side of his chin strap and before he could say anything, although he really didn’t have anything to say, she’d pulled his helmet off. She looked at him, hair tousled, bottom half of his face slightly grubby compared to the top.
“Baby,” he said quietly but his words died as she ran her non-injured hand up the side of his jaw and then leaned up, catching his lips, hand on the back of his neck. Steve was surprised, but didn’t push her away, he never could. His arms instinctively pulled her closer as he kissed her back, everything else zoning out, until they heard footsteps and a voice which was slightly amused.
“Ok, nothing to see here.” Clint spoke. Steve instantly pulled back and looked over Katie’s head at the assembled team of STRIKE agents, Rumlow, Rollins, Evans and Nat stood at the front. Rumlow’s face was a picture and Steve, despite the fact he was kind of embarrassed about being caught snogging his girl in the middle of a mission, felt a smug sense of satisfaction.
My girl, asshole.
“Told you Rumlow.” Rollins was next to speak as Katie closed her eyes and pressed her forehead into Steve’s chest, the moment of adrenaline fuelled passion ebbed away and was replaced by a sudden worry of her effectively outing them without asking him first.
“Fuck me sideways.” Rumlow muttered “Didn’t see that one coming.”
“Rumlow, you’re an idiot.” Lawson’s voice hit their ears “I aint even there and even I could see that a mile off. Mate, Fury only has one eye and I bet he could see it all the way from DC.”
Steve let out an exasperated sigh, but his arms didn’t let go of his precious charge as he issued an instruction. “Alright, wrap it up. Let’s get those weapons and move it out.”
His grip on Katie released as the team bustled into the room and he stopped to pick up both their helmets, handing Katie hers.
“I’m sorry…” she stuttered. “I didn’t mean to do that, I didn’t know they’d see.”
“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He spoke gently, brushing her face with his gloved palm
“You’re not mad?”
“No.” He shook his head as she took her helmet off him with an air of surprise. “I mean they had to find out eventually, right. Maybe it isn’t exactly how I would have chosen to do it but…”
Katie snorted “Better or worse than being caught in the kitchen?”
He gave a small laugh “Undecided. Come on, let’s help them pack up those weapons and we can go home.”
******
The two of them were careful to keep a distance for the rest of the mission and trip home, a professional front was imperative to Steve and Katie was also keen to keep it that way too. She didn’t want anyone saying that either of them were impartial or unable to keep themselves objective. That said, on the flight home they took the inevitable teasing that naturally was always going to come their way when the team found out that its Captain and Sniper were together on the chin. It was all well natured though, and there were no smutty remarks beyond Evans asking Katie if she’d had her bed reinforced now she was sharing it with a super-soldier. In response, she hit him square in the face with a well-aimed granola bar, as Steve flushed at the back of the jet when he overheard. The Captain’s sharp eyes, however, clocked that one person who wasn’t joining in the joking and teasing was Rumlow. He looked like he’d been slapped in the face, and all Steve could do was hope he wasn’t going to be a complete prick going forward.
At the debrief Fury was pleased they had gotten a result and surprised the entire team by handing Steve a wad of notes and instructing them to go celebrate a job well done, but the wink he gave the Captain as he left the room before looking at Katie in that way he did, with a smirk on his face left them both in no uncertainty that he knew what had gone down.
The team hit their favoured bar, Loris. Katie and Steve sat together, Steve casually resting his arm round the back of the bench they sat on, as the drinks flowed, food arrived and Clint and Rumlow organised a pool tournament. Pool was one thing, along with art, that Steve had been pretty good at before he got the serum so after a bit of coaxing he joined in, eventually winning after thrashing Lawson in the final. Declining the money, he told Clint to use it to get the team another round of drinks, but they were drinks he had no intention of partaking in. He wanted to take his girl home because he could tell she was still a little shaken from the day’s events.
He wasn’t wrong. Whilst she had sat and eaten and drinking, she wasn’t really listening. The sight of that bomb timer in front of her eyes, and that fucking spider… she gave an involuntary shudder and looked up to see the tournament was now over and Steve was making his way to the table she was sat at, Natasha nodding to him as she headed to the bar.
He dropped onto the seat next to her, leaned forward and whispered “Wanna get out of here?”
She looked around, glancing over at the bar where Rumlow and Rollins were chatting up a group of girls. Clint and Natasha were sat a few seats down, in discussion with Lawson about something whilst Evans was leaning on the bar talking to a few of the other STRIKE team. She nodded. Steve stood up, took her hand and pulled her off the bench, the pair of them making their exit quickly and quietly, jumping into a perfectly timed free cab.
They sat in silence, his thumb skating over the back of her knuckles on the short ride home, his hand releasing hers only when he had to pay the driver. He caught up with her inside the lobby, just as the elevator door was opening and he stepped in behind her, her breath catching as he dropped his head, nose nuzzling into the side of her neck below her ear before he placed a single, soft kiss on her neck. Her arousal was obvious as she bit her bottom lip and let her eyes fall closed as his lips grazed her neck a bit higher. Then higher still until they placed a chaste kiss on her jawline, and that was all she could take.
She turned round, eyes dark with lust and lips met his gently at first before the kiss grew more urgent and she brought her hands up to his face, sliding them back to tangle her fingers into his hair. The way she did that set every one of his nerves on edge and he found himself pressing closer and moved quickly so that he had her pinned against the metal wall of the elevator. His left hand gripped her hip tight, his right winding its way into her hair giving a gentle tug as he pressed his lips against hers, causing the kiss to deepen, a small whimper escaping her mouth. The doors opened to the elevator, and the two of them stumbled out, lips locked, her hands clawing at his hair still, the pair groaning as they went.
His lips started to stray, kissing the corners of her mouth, dipping down to her jaw and neck but she always pulled his face back to hers, kissing him encouragingly, and he knew there and then that there was only one way this was going to end. Which right now was absolutely fine with him, but he needed to know it was with her too. He pulled away and looked down at her, his eyes bouncing between hers.
“You sure?” He whispered, wetting his lips slightly.
“Stevie…” she replied, her voice barely audible over her deep breathing. “Shut up and take me to bed.”
And he knew then he was a goner.
He surged forward again, spinning them both round, pinning her to the panel in the wall which hid the closed elevator doors with his body. His mouth trailed down to her neck, softly kissing, drawing a sigh from her at the sensation as he continued to skate his mouth gently across her collarbone which was exposed on one side due to the slouching top she was wearing. His hands reached down to her thighs and he effortlessly hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, nuzzling into his neck before kissing across his jawline and his cheek as he carried her across the apartment and up the stairs. He was aware vaguely of two small thuds as she shucked off her boots as they went, before he reached the bedroom his lips back on hers, urgently kissing her as he carried her inside, kicking the door shut before he crossed the room and gently fell forwards, depositing them both onto the bed.
His lips claimed hers again, a moan of his own escaping into her mouth and his hands strayed to the bottom of her top. She nodded eagerly, hands going to run through his hair, before she shifted and held her arms up so that he could pull the top over her head. He tossed it to the floor as she reached for his before he pulled back, allowing her to slide it up and over his head, both of them smiling into the kiss as he settled back down on top of her, his hand running up the side of her torso.
She pulled away from him this time and he watched as her eyes followed her hands downwards before she looked back up at him as her fingers gently grazed his stomach, lingering there before moving down to his jeans. He bucked at the touch as she slowly undid his belt, taking her time as she locked her eyes onto his again, lust had turned into softness as she looked at him. He stared right back at her, her eyes reminding him of emeralds, deep green, speckled with dots of brown, the slight ring of amber surrounding her pupil reminded him of the sun. Telling him of the power she exuded over him and the warmth she brought to his life.
He was aware that his breathing had quickened and he let out a low growl before he kissed her, harder and his hands moved down to her jeans, deftly undoing the button at the front. He moved, pulling them down in one go over her legs before he stood slightly, ridding himself of his, the sensation of finally being free was a God send. Katie sat up, eyes trained on him and he swallowed thickly as she undid her bra. He took a second to take her in, he loved her tits, he’d always had a thing for a good “rack” as Bucky put it, and she was a sight to behold. All soft pink curves and rose bud nipples. He was achingly hard now, and he needed to do something about it. In a flash he was on her again, mouth hungrily covered hers as his hands trailed up her legs, to her hips, up the side of her body and then onto her breasts teasing gently. She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards.
“Fuck.” He seethed out at the feeling of her grinding up against his rock hard crotch, and he nuzzled at her neck with his nose again. She dragged her fingers up his spine as he buried his face in the side of her neck working at the pulse spot beneath her ear, the little noises of pleasure she was making were music in his ear. Her hips moved again and he decided to help her out, his hand moving down and dropping below the waistband of her panties making her gasp as his fingers worked her. She was warm, wet, and he loved the fact he had this effect on her.
Her hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from her lips at the sensations lancing through her body as he nipped slightly at her neck and then moved his mouth to her chest, taking her right nipple in. Her groans were growing louder now and Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to be in her, surrounded by her, feel her. His hands both shot to the side of her panties, completely forgetting his strength and he heard them tear. He dropped his forehead onto her sternum, letting out a groan at his stupidity before he heard a laugh, his head shooting up in surprise at the fact she found it funny.
“I’m sorry…” he blurted out as she continued to giggle.
“You literally just ripped my pants off”
“Guess I forgot my own strength.” he offered as explanation, looking at her, an apologetic look on his face.
“You know they were Victoria Secrets?” She quipped, looking at him. Steve had no idea what that meant, but he assumed it was some kind of expensive lingerie shop. A sudden joke popped into his head and before he could stop himself he shot it out.
“Sucks to be Victoria then.” and this made her laugh even more.
Eventually their laughter died down, and they shared another quick glance, and then her lips were back on his, still smiling as she flipped the waistband of his boxers down, and he shimmied out of them, before settling into the space in between her hips. She moved underneath him, telling him exactly what she wanted and he was so ready to oblige. He kissed her hard, his right hand tangling into her left as she reached down with her right, grasping him in her hand causing him to hiss slightly. She guided him to where she wanted him and he gently pushed into her. The feeling caused both of them to gasp and groan, Katie leaning back against the pillows as he stretched her, his girth and length filling her completely.
“God,” Steve breathed, temporarily paralysed by the way her tightness gripped him. His arms shook and he dropped down to his elbows, the hand around hers tightening as his entire body felt coiled tight like snake ready to strike.
The stillness gave Katie time to adjust to his size, but one she had she was aching for him to move, needing to feel him. She whimpered a little, her fingers digging into his lower back urging him on. “Stevie, please?”
He started moving his hips, slowly at first, building up speed as he gained more confidence, their hips rubbing together with every thrust. With every rock into her, moans of delight and pure pleasure filled his ear as his head rest in the crook of her neck, every inch of their bodies pressed as close as they could get. When she groaned his name, Stevie, the pet name that sounded so much sweeter coming from her, it was like a hot wire to his groin and he felt the tell-tale heat striking across his lower stomach he groaned again, wanting to hold out longer, wanting to get her there first. He brought his lips back to hers plunging his tongue into her mouth and she dug the tips of her nails into his back and he was completely overwhelmed by her. Not the sex, but her.
“Katie, I’m not sure how long I’m gonna…” He began to try and explain but then groaned again as she pushed up against him, his head dropping slightly as he struggled to fight it.
“Let me see you.” she said, nudging his nose with hers, her voice ragged. “Wanna see you let go baby…”
At her words he groaned and raised his head to look at her, her eyes soft and shining. He managed a few more shallow thrusts before he lost himself, stiffening and groaning as Katie watched him, his lips slightly parted as he bit his bottom lip, and then the eyes that had been locked on hers fluttered shut before he pitched forward to bury his face into her neck.
She held him running a hand through his hair as a final shudder ran down his body, the waves of pleasure finally began to subside. Her own heart was pounding with affection for her man. She didn’t particularly care that she hadn’t gotten off, nor did she care that it hadn’t lasted very long either, but he had made her feel good. He took his time, had tenderly caressed and loved every part of her, had appreciated her in a way no one else had before.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, “You didn’t even – I’m sorry.” He said again still kicking himself.
“Steve, stop. Just enjoy the moment. Please.” She whispered, kissing his temple.
Steve sighed as dropped his head to her chest, still inside her, as she ran her hand through his hair and down his neck. He stayed still for a while before he rolled off her and onto his back, pulling her with him so she could lie her head across his chest.
“It doesn’t matter you know” she spoke again, hand running through the soft smattering of dark blond and light brown hair on his chest “It was perfect because I was with you.”
“I just wish it had lasted longer.” he said, her words like a talisman in his chest as he cradled her close.
“It didn’t need to.” she looked up at him and felt her cheeks burning. She wanted to explain to him, exactly how she felt, but wasn’t sure she could find the words. She dropped her gaze from his face and he gently reached out with his spare hand.
“What is it?” HHhe asked, gently reaching out to tilt her face up to look at him.
“Just…no one’s ever made me feel like that, like this before” she said gently, her eyes shining. “You were so soft and gentle and…well I don’t think I’ve ever felt so wanted…” she trailed off, shrugging.
The band tightened across his chest slightly, how could anyone not want her? Gently he dropped a kiss to her lips.
“I like being your first.” he said, and she smiled.
They lay still for a while, his fingers gently combing through her soft hair before an idea suddenly hit him and it made him swallow nervously.
“We err…we didn’t… you know, use any…protection?” he said, stilling and Katie turned her head up to look at him.
“I got that covered, don’t worry…”
“How?” he frowned, confusion filling his features.
“Stuff has moved on since the 40s Steve.” she said, simply.
Her head returned to its spot on his chest and she gave a soft yawn. He dropped a kiss to her head and closed his eyes, pulling her closer, relishing the feel of her skin against his as their legs tangled together, the pair of them satiated and completely at peace
****
He was aware of her moving. He had his face pressed into the back of her hair, breathing in her gorgeous smell, revelling in her warmth and softness as her bare back was pressed to his chest, his arm wrapping around her, laying just under her breasts. It was all he could do not to moan as she untangled herself and he cracked an eye open, watching her bare ass and back as she made her way into the en-suite. Smiling softly through his tiredness he rolled onto his back, one hand straying to his hair as he lay still. Eventually he heard her make her way back into the room and felt the bed dip again. He could feel her eyes on him, simply watching. And it was all he could do to keep the smirk off his face.
“You get a good look?” he mumbled, shifting slightly, voice thick from sleep, eyes still closed.
“Sorry…�� she said softly and he felt her finger gently tracing his jaw. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Well he was awake now, her touch igniting that desire once more. He shifted onto his side and cracked one eye open, taking in her appearance. Her long hair was cascading in slightly tangled waves round her face, and she looked absolutely stunning.
“I can think of worse things to wake up to.” he said honestly before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She responded willingly, his hand dropping to her hip before moving to her back and pulling her closer to him, the other arm snaking under her neck and angling her head to deepen the kiss. He rolled her over onto her back, one leg positioning itself between hers and he dropped his lips to her neck, nipping at that magical spot again. She let out a soft moan before she sat up slightly, pushing on his shoulders. It was just a hard enough shove to make him understand she wanted him lay on his back, and he was more than happy to let her take control this time. As she straddled him his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her face down to kiss him and as he did so she reached down between them, taking him in her hand and stroking him into full hardness which didn’t take much. He groaned but didn’t release her mouth as she adjusted position to take him in.
Slowly she slid down onto him, groaning into the kiss as she stayed pressed against him, and she began to work herself on top of him. She was quick to find a rhythm and her mouth fell open against his lips and she let out a shaky moan before sitting up fully.
This was another first for him and the sight of her on top, illuminated by the early morning sun sneaking in through her curtains was divine. He wanted to touch her, so he did, bringing her hands up to run them up her sides until his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs running over her nipples as she let out another moan. As she picked up the pace his hands went to her hips, pulling her down onto him harder, thrusting upwards to meet her for every move she made. She continued to move, quickening, her eyes never leaving his.
“Steve…”she groaned, as he tilted his hips up harder and he let out a groan himself, increasingly determined to get her there this time. As he felt himself beginning to tip over the edge, his hand moved from her hip to stroke at that spot between her legs and that did it. He felt her tense up and tighten around him, crying out loudly and unbridled as she shook. The sight of her coming undone on top of him, her cheeks flushed, lips pink, mouth open in a now silent scream, was simply incredible and quite possibly the single most exquisite thing he had ever seen. All of that, coupled with the force of her heat tightening even more made him lose himself again.
“Fuck, Doll…” the curse fell from his lips as he thrust upwards, before he spilled himself inside her again, the wave of pleasure deeper than anything he’d felt before. Katie collapsed forward onto his chest, her tremors subsided, both of them panting. He held her close, his fingers running up and down her spine as she let out a soft “hum” of contentment and he sat up, wanting to see her face to face. Still cradling her close he pushed the hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ears and she reached up, running her hands through his, causing him to close his eyes at the sensation of her nails on his scalp.
When he opened them again and looked at her something flashed in her eyes as the slight gleam of light through the curtains caught her face. She was looking at him, features soft, almost as if she was seeing him for the first time. His breath quickened slightly and he knew then that he was head over heels in love with her. No one had come close to ever making him feel like this and as he gazed at her, seeing the adoration in her eyes, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Katie,” he said quietly, almost nervously, as he pulled her closer, his nose rubbing up against hers, “I love you.”
She didn’t hesitate to reply, she didn’t need to. If she was honest she’d loved him now way before they’d even started any of this. So without missing a single beat, she spoke in return as their noses continued their lazy dance, the words coming easily.
“I love you too, Stevie.”
Her reply lit a fire in his chest and he kissed her softly, grinning like a total idiot as she was smiling too, the kisses growing softer and shorter until she pulled away completely, her hand on his cheek, her eyelids heavy. He glanced at the clock, it was little past 6 and they could sleep in today. He had no desire to run, no desire to leave at all, so he set them both and slid a hand under her neck and pulled her to him, chest pressing into her back. He swept her hair to one side and placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck before he pulled the covers back up over them and closed his eyes.
Right there Steve would have challenged any man on the planet to prove they were happier than him.
**** O/S Phobias
Chapter 8
**Original Posting**
#stark spangled banner#steve rogers#katie stark#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fic#steve rogers x ofc#steve rogers x original female character#chris evans#chris evans characters
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 10 - Clean This Up
Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, who is he really?, 2.9k
@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends
WARNINGS: abuse, mild violence
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9
Alex had said to check the diner, so Victoria opted to have dinner there and asked to see the owner. She was aware of the vigilante-style work she was doing, but with everything else going on in her life, this couldn’t possibly hurt any worse. Folding her hands, she breathed calmly as she peeked at the menu. It was important not to act as authoritative as she usually did, she reminded herself. A portly man with short gray hair and a mustache came over and took the seat across from her.
“Hi there,” the man said, shaking Victoria’s hand. “What can I do for you?”
“Hi, I’m Victoria Molina,” she introduced herself. “I was actually trying to find someone and I was told you could help me.”
The man raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Oh, alright. Who are you looking for?”
“I’m looking for a young man of about seventeen, he goes by Willie? I was told he works here. I just have some questions for him. Would he happen to be in at all today?”
“We don’t have anyone named Willie here anymore,” the man told her. “I actually just bought this establishment along with the hotel about two weeks ago and a few of the staff followed the previous owner to a different business. You might want to talk to him instead.”
“Oh,” Victoria sat back in slight disappointment. “I take it you’re not Caleb Covington?”
“No, he’s the guy I bought it from. I’m Frank Wolfe. I can give you his contact information, though.”
Nodding, she smiled politely.
“I would appreciate that. Sorry I had to come bother you, though.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I apologize that I can’t be any more useful. If you like, I can take your order.”
“Oh, thank you. I’ll actually have the carne asada.”
“Perfect,” he smiled as he took her menu away. “I’ll have that information for you in just a minute, too.”
Taking a gulp of water, Victoria sighed. It certainly felt just like any regular case. The fact the business had recently changed hands made her want to be suspicious, but she fought to remain level-headed. It was enough that she was going off the word of a teenage boy and an old poster. If it was a dud, if this trip led nowhere, she would buy Carlos a gift and head home safe and sound.
After finishing her meal, she returned to her hotel room and pulled out the business card Frank Wolfe had given her. Something about the dark purple design and the old-fashioned lettering he’d chosen made her feel like Caleb Covington was at least a little pretentious, if not flashy about his business. Picking up the phone and dialing the number, she held her breath waiting for an answer.
“Caleb Covington, who may I be speaking to?” a baritone voice chimed on the other end. The touch of sing-song in his tone was unexpected.
“Hi, my name is Victoria,” she introduced herself for the second time that night. “I was told you were the guardian of a young man named Willie?”
“Are you with social services?” he asked.
She furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry?”
“I usually only get a call when we have a hearing scheduled, but our last one was just a couple months ago.” His tone had gone from happy to serious at such a jarring speed it took Victoria a moment to process his words.
“No,” she said finally. “No, I’m not with them. I didn’t mean to confuse you. I’m actually reaching out on a personal favor. See another young man I know says they met a while back.”
“Oh, is it the band that came through a few weeks ago?” Caleb immediately picked the cheer back up.
“Yes, I’m glad you remember,” she responded, surprised.
“How are those boys doing?”
“Oh, they’re just fine. I think they’re gonna be a success.”
“Good to hear it,” he said. “Listen, no harm done. I own a swanky little club just in the south of town. I would be delighted if you gave me a visit, and I’d be happy to chat.”
“Sounds great, thank you,” Victoria smiled, unable to believe how easy that felt. “I can stop by tomorrow evening.”
“Wonderful. If it isn’t too much, I’ll make you a reservation.”
“Well, I can’t say no to such generosity!” It had been a long time since Victoria had gone on a night out. This was a much needed vacation, and if it killed two birds with one stone, all the better. She said goodbye and decided since she was practically getting everything she needed at the club, the rest of the day would be spent treating herself for once.
Willie skateboarded up the driveway and only just remembered Caleb’s rule about the pool in time to hop off before pulling off his helmet and going around the back. He took the back route into the house and dropped a number of grocery bags on the counter. One of these days he would age out of the foster system and not spend the morning being Caleb’s errand boy, but for now he just laid Caleb’s credit card on the table and went outside toward his shed.
Opening the door, he saw Caleb standing in the middle of the room, looking around at all of his drawings. Paper covered most of the walls now. Faces with no names to them, locations with no map to their destination - only snippets of a past life. Willie couldn’t stop drawing them. There still weren’t many memories returning to him, but any detail was an important one. He hadn’t drawn this much in ages, since before he found Sheldon. The backwards dream had become a recurring one by now, and there was still very little that he understood about it. Still, he had so many scenes made out of it that he could almost recreate the dream in a very rough animation.
“Hi C-Caleb,” Willie stammered. This never happened. It made him immediately nervous.
“What a collection, William,” Caleb said, not exactly sounding like an awed patron in a museum. “I mean, the sheer volume of work that went into these is absolutely mind-blowing.”
A small pebble of pride rose in Willie’s chest.
“Really?.... Um, thank you.” He couldn’t suppress his smile.
Caleb held up a hand and looked down at his well-manicured nails, and then back up.
“I just don’t understand why I look so hostile in this one,” he said, pointing to the picture in question. “And that one. And all of these in this corner.” His gaze returned to Willie with unprecedented menace.
Willie immediately shrank away, his mouth gaping open.
“Well...I..they’re from a dream.”
“A dream?” Caleb repeated, not liking what he was hearing.
“Yeah, I think it was a memory.”
Willie watched the man straighten his posture, a calculating expression on his face.
“Are these all memories?” Caleb asked after a tense moment, casting his eyes about the room.
“I think so,” Willie said hesitantly.
Caleb lifted a hand and grabbed the bottom of one. It was the first one WIllie had done of his dad sitting inside the truck and smiling at him.
“Hm,” was all that he said for a second.
And then he tore it in half.
Willie made toward the picture in alarm, feeling a part of him inside being torn just the same, but was stopped as Caleb held a hand out.
“Ah ah,” he said. “What have I told you about becoming your own person regardless of the past?” He took a handful of another drawing and ripped that one too.
Ignoring what Caleb said, Willie lunged forward to try stopping him anyway. Caleb was faster, grabbing his shirt and tossing him backward into the wall. He couldn’t help but begin crying.
“But these are my memories, why would you - ” he sputtered, lost for words.
“Because, William,” Caleb continued loudly, pulling as many as he could off the wall and shredding them into smaller pieces. “Your history? The one full of loss and being shuffled here and there? That is all that awaits you. You know it’s the truth; that’s how you ended up here. I offer you the opportunity to become a new person, and I can’t allow you to spoil yourself with reminders. And besides, those little friends you not-so-secretly made a few weeks ago have started snooping around in my business, and I can’t have that.”
He didn’t even pick anything up, he just left paper strewn all over the floor and walked all over it. As he made for the last wall, Willie made one more attempt to overpower him. He leapt onto Caleb’s shoulders and tried to pull him back with all his weight. A fist landed in his eye and he slacked his grip. Caleb wrestled him onto the bed and held him down, a crazed look in his eye that Willie swore he’d never seen no matter how familiar it felt.
“I don’t understand, what do they have to do with it? Why can’t I have friends?”
“I’m doing this for your own good,” Caleb hissed at him. “You” - he reached up and touched the scar on Willie’s head with his finger - “You got a reboot and you know how many people are lucky enough for that? You should thank me. Unfortunately, you can’t have friends when they send someone asking me questions about that little past of yours. That’s just asking for trouble.”
All Willie could do was hold his eye and lay back as Caleb tore up the last of the drawings. Once he finished, Caleb patted himself off and made his way out the door.
“Clean this up,” he told Willie. “And don’t bother doing any more art.”
As the door shut behind him, Willie scrambled onto the floor to search for just one of the drawings. Shuffling through smudged pieces of paper, he saw a few tears drop onto his ruined work. Eventually, he held the picture of his father in two pieces in his hands. Sobbing, he tried to hold them together evenly, but Caleb’s work had made that hard to do. His only hope was to try drawing it again, but he was already terrified of what Caleb’s reaction to that would be if his first one had been this.
A piece of another drawing caught Willie’s eye from underneath. He recognized Caleb’s snarling face from the dream and was surprised at how well it captured what he’d just witnessed. His mind went back to the way he knew the look in Caleb’s eyes. Suddenly, the awful realization dawned on him: he finally understood the dream.
Victoria walked into the club that evening, glad she had taken the time to look and feel fresh. This place was clearly up to snuff and then some. A live band played with dancers scattered throughout, all in bright, sparkly, feathery getup. A tall man with neatly styled dark hair was mesmerizing the crowd as he sang, keeping the energy high. As she was led to a table, Victoria simply sat and watched, greatly impressed with the talent.
Once the man’s solo finished, he bowed, gestured at the band to play on without him, and exited the stage. To Victoria’s surprise, he took the seat directly across from her.
“Ms. Victoria, you look so lovely, how are we this evening?” he asked with a charming smile. “I’m Caleb Covington.”
“Are you kidding me?” she started. “That was you up there? You’re a man of many talents; I’m already dazzled.”
“Oh, well, I hope that remains a constant while you’re here,” he said. "But you came to ask me about some other things, what were they?”
“Yes, I had some questions about Willie.”
Willie sat outside the bodega, unwilling to move for a while. He felt like everything inside of him was empty, as if Caleb had possessed claws and dug everything out until he was left hollow. The many ideas that had risen in his mind in the past few hours were all too much, all at once. If he dared, was he sure he could handle everything that might come his way? Every time he’d heard that ridiculous speech about starting over, becoming his own, yada-yada, he hadn’t considered any of the options he was now contemplating.
He’d already done some things. Already bought some things. Now he got up to collect Sheldon and held him tightly as he nodded to Escobar, who saluted him back. The man had said he didn’t want a dramatic thank you. Stuffing the items he purchased in his bag, he kept a hold of Sheldon as he skated off into the darkness.
“So, you see, Willie isn’t missing. He was abandoned,” Caleb was saying to Victoria. “Poor thing has struggled to adjust. I’ve dealt with some handfuls in the past, but I really have been doing the most for him, and he’s been with me for more than three years. I think it’s really sweet of those boys to raise a concern, and I hate to be a dead end, but that’s the truth of it.”
Victoria sat, nodding in acceptance.
“That makes a lot of sense, Mr. Covington, thank you for providing that for me.”
“Oh, call me Caleb. We’re all friends in here.”
“Okay, then, Caleb,” she corrected. “What got you into foster care?”
He put a hand over his heart and a fond look came over him.
“The youth are just full of so much magic, and I hate to see that their parents have chosen to lay it to waste. I’m the one who takes some of the tougher cases so I can bring out the best in them. You see that young man over there, Dante?” Caleb pointed at one of the dancers. “Classic rebel when he was young. You wouldn’t even know, he’s turned into such a gentleman. There’s a few more here and there in the club. I call them my graduates.”
“Well, I will tell you,” Victoria said. “When I first talked to you on the phone I wasn’t expecting you to be so generous. But now I can see that it’s just how you are.”
Caleb shot her a playful smile.
“Victoria, no need to butter me up. I do have some tight business practices to keep up.”
Fluid poured over every inch of the shed. Willie had made sure it was more than enough to get things going. He’d made sure to get the essentials: food for himself and Sheldon, a few changes of clothes, and a stash of money he’d taken from the safe in Caleb’s bedroom. The man shouldn’t have given him the combination in the first place.
Stepping out of the shed he looked at it one last time. What a sad, lousy existence. Living to perform for this man who shut him up inside this little thing and he had actually called it home? The further he was into his plan, the bolder he began to feel. He remembered when he had missed getting into the Pearl and that feeling of wrongness that had made him so frustrated. This feeling he had right now? It was so right. It was so right it drowned out anything scary about this whole idea.
He looked back at where he had put Sheldon on a small leash and tied him along the fence around Caleb’s backyard. It was definitely a safe distance. Then Willie pulled a box of matches out of his pocket, lit one, and looked at the flame for a minute. He held it just over the threshold of the doorway so it would land inside. It was so weak, like he had been ever since his accident. But he knew it was going to become so powerful, and he desperately hoped that he could retain some of that power for himself.
“Clean this up, Caleb,” he said, and he let his fingers go.
Victoria had stayed just a little longer to enjoy more food and music before standing up and heading toward the door. Caleb saw her on her way out and made her stop for a moment.
“It’s been a lovely night, and I’m grateful for everything you told me,” she said to him.
“Well I’m glad you took the opportunity to see what I have here,” he replied. “If you’re ever in the city again, please stop by. We’re always partying and putting on the best show.”
“Oh, I most certainly will,” she said, smiling as she made her way outside.
Someone tapped on Caleb’s shoulder from behind. Wordlessly, he turned to see who it was and why it was important.
“Sir,” one of his servers said. “You have a phone call. It’s the fire department.”
“What?” Caleb spat as he went to pick it up.
Willie sped along on his board the best that he could with Sheldon in his arms. He carefully made it down the ramp onto the freeway, controlling his speed as well as he could. He could picture Caleb now, just getting back to his home, eyes wide as he came upon the blaze. It was a very strange feeling, but right now Willie chose to focus on his newfound freedom. The cost wasn’t the matter right now. Freedom was all that was going to take him and his cat as far as they could go. The destination for now was Los Angeles.
#julie and the phantoms#jatp#fanfic#jatp fanfic#willex#alive au#alex mercer#willie#luke patterson#reggie peters#bobby wilson#aunt victoria#caleb covington#tw abuse#tw mild violence#viva las vegas#clean this up#fiddlepickdouglas
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey I have to request for Bakugou x reader prompt: 11 & 18 pls
request from this prompt list!
11. Wow, you look..amazing. & 18. That was kind of hot.
A/N: im so sorry these are taking so long to come out lmaooo i have writers block and im really hating editing rn so this will be half way unedited,, thank u for requesting and waiting babie,, also its under a read more bc i can’t believe i wrote mfing 3k words for this
“Wow,” Katsuki says almost breathlessly, “you look..amazing.”
Your eyes narrow in on the blonde who’s currently standing in your doorway. You can’t tell if he’s lying or simply just pulling your leg. Did he always have to be so sarcastic? “Haha, very funny Katsuki.” You’re rolling your eyes with a pink tint on your cheeks and your hands start to fidget with the bottom of your dress. “Can we just get this over with?”
“I’m being serious you know. You look good.” He says as he holds out an arm for you to grab and you do. But you were waiting for it- the punchline, the teasing- “I didn’t know a gorilla could dress up so nice.”
There it was.
“Shut the hell up.” You deliver a solid punch to his arm as he leads you to his car but he doesn’t even flinch. “Remember I’m doing you a favor, if you’re not nice to me maybe I’ll slip up and tell your parents during dinner that we’re not really dating.”
He pauses and glances in your direction. “You wouldn’t.”
You shrug. “Maybe I would. How long has this been going on for Katsuki? 6 months? 8? How disappointed would they be to hear-”
“Alright, just shut up.” He huffs, holding the car door open. You’re cocking an eyebrow at him, arms folded against your chest, and the expression has him hesitating. “I mean uh, please..shut up?”
A scoff slips past your lips and you find yourself rolling your eyes. “Better.” You sigh, while climbing in. “Not the best but better.” The door closes with a thump next to you and you’re scanning his car. It’s spotless like usual, the leather seats didn’t have a speck of dust on them, and it smells just like burnt caramel- a scent that was growing on you a little too much.
“Brief me.” You say as he climbs in. “What have we done since we last saw your parents?”
“You tell me.”
“How come I have to think of everything in this fake relationship?” A prominent pout is on your face and for a second, you swore you saw him staring at your lips. Was your choice of lipstick too much? Not good enough? You’re suddenly self conscious but he turns away, buckles his seat belt, and starts driving.
“Well, if we were really dating- what would you like to do?” He catches a glance from the corner of his eyes and you’re sitting there, arms folded against your chest and that pout on your lips fades.
“If we were really dating huh.” You absentmindedly repeat. The sentence settles in your mind and the butterflies in your stomach start fluttering.
If you two were really dating..how nice would that be? You wouldn’t see him every once in a blue moon when he asked you to come to dinner with his parents. You’d probably get to eat more of his cooking. And maybe, just maybe- he would hold your hand just because he wanted to, not for show.
“Hello? Earth to planet dumbass?” He questions, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“Uh..camping..” You reply. “I’d really like to go camping.”
“Camping..huh. I didn’t expect that from you.”
“Well, I’d want to do something you enjoy and I’ve never been so..”
“Maybe we should go.” He pauses, throwing another glance in your direction. “Just you and me, it’ll be fun.” A small smile spreads across your face and your stomach is doing backflips at the thought. Just you and him? How many days would you spend together completely alone? “Can’t wait to see you eat shit while hiking.”
“Fuck you asshole. I take it back, I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” He does this ugly laugh snort thing and you can’t help but smile as your heart flutters a bit for the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. Maybe you should go see a doctor for that.
“Seriously- clear your schedule for next week, I’ll take you for your birthday.” And suddenly, you find yourself holding a hand against your heart and you’re warm, so so warm.
“You..remembered?”
“Why would I not remember my girl’s birthday?” He asks as if it’s the dumbest question ever.
My girl.
Your head is spinning and that smile tugging at the corner of your lips won’t go away no matter how hard you’re trying to make it disappear.
“What kind of fake boyfriend would I be?”
Oh.
Right.
This wasn’t real. And like magic the smile on your lips is gone.
“Yeah..haha.” You’re forcing a laugh but the disappointment on your face is evident. Your gritting your teeth and mentally cursing at the fact you are so so so head over heels in love with him. Curse him for being so handsome, for being so tall, for being so charming but at the same time annoyingly sarcastic, for being-
“Are you okay?” Katsuki asks breaking you out of your thoughts. He gives you this look. His eyebrows are furrowed, his head is tilted, and there’s genuine concern in his eyes. “We’ve been parked for ten minutes and you haven’t said a word.”
“Sorry, I was uh, thinking about something.” He’s staring at you with those red eyes that make you squirm in your seat with an intensity that rivaled the sun itself. Those eyes could pierce through metal just with a glance and he was looking at you with them? You’d probably die if you made direct eye contact.
“You know you can talk to me right?”
And when those words slip out of his mouth, you have an urge to confess right there and then. You want to tell him you’ve been in love with him since you’ve started this whole charade. But you don’t. Instead, you nod your head at his comment and reassure him you’re fine. He sits there, staring at you with those piercing red eyes and lets out a sigh. You know he doesn’t fall for it, he knows something’s not right, but he gets out of the car anyways.
“Watch your step.” He says. His hand is outstretched, inviting, big and warm. You take it and when your hand intertwines with his, you feel better.
“Thanks.” You mutter while attempting to memorize the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. What if this just ended tomorrow? What if he finds someone else that he genuinely likes? His fingers are laced perfectly between yours as if they were built, molded, and created just for you. But you don’t notice your head getting a little too close to the car frame because you’re so memorized by the warmth radiating from him and-
clunk.
“Ouch.” You wince.
“I guess I should’ve warned you to watch your head.” He laughs.
“Shut up.” Your hand is rubbing your sore head and there’s this adorable expression on your face but Katsuki would never tell you that, not in a million years. Instead, he places a large hand head on your head, he pulls you in close, and kisses the sore spot on your head. It doesn’t hurt so much after that.
“Aren’t you two just the cutest?” His mom’s voice rings from behind you two.
Greetings are exchanged alongside a few hugs and kisses and you’re laughing while watching the poor boy next to you get smothered in his mother’s lipstick. He swears he’ll get you back later and mutters something under his breath about “smothering you in kisses to see how you like it” but you ignore his empty threats and wipe off the prominent red on his face with your thumb. “My handsome baby.” You coo, imitating his mother, and pinching his cheek. He tells you to knock it off as he swats away your hand and that he “hates being treated like a 5 year old” but that smile on his face tells you otherwise. So you poke a little more fun, tease a little more, and he’s on the verge of leaning down and peppering your face in kisses but his father clears his throat when his hands are roughly cupping your face, and he remembers- he’s in public, in front of his parents, about to kiss the shit out of your face.
He lets it slide this time.
Everyone’s sitting at a table now. You two are poliety taking sips of your water and his mother is going on about their jobs, their daily lives, and maybe even possibly having another kid. Katsuki practically chokes as soon as he hears this comment and you’re attempting to hold in a laugh and at the same time juggle the liquid in your mouth while watching the blonde boy attempt to hide his coughs with a red face.
“Just kidding.” His mother says while folding her hands and placing her elbows on the table. For a minute, she’s sitting there with her head resting on her folded hands watching you attempt to gulp down the water but choking at the same time. She’s watching Katsuki point a finger at you and choking a second time on his spit. So now, you’re both looking at each other having a laughing and coughing fit, all the while struggling to just breathe. Ah, just how cute could you two be? But when she opens her mouth to say something, her husband cuts her off taking the words right out of her mouth. “You two really love each other, don’t you?”
And suddenly you two are caught like a deer in headlights. Katsuki’s cheeks are burning red and yours are a matching shade. “No need to be embarrassed!” Masaru exclaims. “It’s just that- you two look at each other with..uh..”
“So much love.” Mitsuki interjects.
“W-what?” Katsuki stutters.
“It’s the same way your father looks at me.” She says. “Don’t be embarrassed, tell your girlfriend how much you love her. I mean, you must’ve said I love you to each other already. It’s been about 7 months, right Masaru?” Katsuki’s reaching for his glass, pretending to be incredibly thirsty in hopes someone changes the subject.
“He’s said I love you already, hasn’t he (Y/N)?”
“Oh- are we ready to order?” You’re attempting to change the subject, you really are but Bakugous are relentless. You would know.
“Has he not?” Mitsuki gasps.
“I- uh-”
“Don’t meddle so much!” Masaru interjects. And for a moment you thank the lord for making Masaru Bakugou.
“We’re ready to order!” Katsuki yells for the waiter halfway across the restaurant, turning multiple heads in your direction and earning several glares.
“Smooth. Real smooth.” You whisper low enough for him to hear. You’re stifling a laugh as you land a playful smack on his thigh.
“Shut it.” He’s biting back a smile and before you could pull your hand away, he takes it in his, giving it a little squeeze.
Ah.
Dinner was always fun with the Bakugou’s.
Before you know it, the night is over. You’re hugging his mother goodbye and she invites you to a family gathering in two weeks, which you politely accept. His father on the other hand is in the corner giving him what seems to be a heart to heart talk but the way the blonde keeps on glancing in your direction every so often has you curious. What were they talking about?
“You know he loves you right? That boy won’t shut up about you.” Mitsuki laughs. A blush forms on your cheeks. “And you know how hard it is to get him to talk about anything.”
You’re simply nodding your head as she continues to talk about anything and everything and at the same time you’re absentmindedly rubbing your arms. Why was it so cold today? “I think it’s time to go.” Katsuki appears behind you, dropping his big coat on your shoulders. Thank lord he was practically a human heater thanks to his quirk. You’re burying your face into his jacket.
Was your face cold? Yes.
But did you also want to engulf yourself into his scent before the night was over? Yes.
“Come on, let’s go before you freeze to death.” You both say your goodbyes a second time and make way to his car. “Don’t hit your head.” He muses holding the door open. You shoot him a glare but he’s chuckling at the sight. “Cute.” He snorts. You’re sitting the car now, his jacket around your frame, and you look up at him- your mouth ready to shoot back a sarcastic remark but you freeze. His eyes are soft, he’s wearing this small smile that could probably melt the sun itself, and at that moment, he just looks so..content. Your heart is swelling at the sight.
“What are you looking at idiot?” He snaps but that smile on his face grows wider and you feel your heart skip a beat. You gulp. Why did he just have to look so handsome- so perfect? It was almost as if he was asking you to confess- to let him know how much he meant to you, how much you liked him.
“You’re a little ugly looking.” You reply. He does that ugly snort laugh again and he rolls his eyes while slamming the door shut.
“Yeah fucking right.” You hear him scoff through the car door. “Me? Ugly?” He’s inside now, taking his seat and placing his hands on the steering wheel. “You just have really bad taste in men.”
“Yes, exactly why I’m dating you at the moment.”
For a minute he’s taken back at the fact someone could match his energy- his sarcasticness but a smile is on his lips nevertheless. “I am not fucking ugly.” He says, he’s half joking half serious and you can tell he’s actually concerned..? But the Great Katsuki affected by your comment? Wow, dinner and a show. “Right..?”
“Mhmm, yeah sure. You’re the handsomest man out there.”
“You just have shitty taste in men.” He repeats. “I was voted the sexiest hero of the year- of the decade! Any woman would be happy to have me.”
“Okay Katsuki, whatever you say.” You’re giggling at how hard he’s taking this, it was almost as if his pride was being ripped to shreds by one small comment.
“And I was voted the best dancer, singer, kisser-”
“Kisser? How the hell did they come to that conclusion?”
“Word of mouth.”
“You? Kissing a girl? I’m your first girlfriend and our relationship is fake.”
“Doesn’t mean I haven’t kissed someone before.” His tone is cocky, his chest is puffing out a little, and what was with that annoying ass smirk on his face?
“Yeah right.” You laugh. “Come on, just take me home so I can watch my show and eat ice cream.”
“You don’t believe me?” His raising an eyebrow and his eyes had a little glint in them. What was that? Cockiness? Pride? You didn’t know but whatever it was- it was making you nervous.
“I don’t know if I would believe a teen magazine.” Your eyes are rolling and you’re getting semi annoyed with how adamant he was being. Did he really have to insist he was the best at everything? How the hell did you even measure how good of a kisser someone was?
“Kiss me then.” He says, your heart skips a beat and your cheeks instantly flush.
“W-what?”
“I said kiss me you idiot. I’ll show you I’m the best fucking kisser in all of Japan.” You’re laughing, you’re laughing so hard to the point tears are brimming in the corner of your eyes but when you look over and his face is as serious as can be, you gulp. “I think I’ll just take your word for it Katsuki.”
“What? You scared or something?” Damn that blonde always knew how to push your buttons.
“Me? Scared of what? Kissing? Pfft.”
“Seems like you’re scared.” He says relaxing back into his seat and then his eyes grow wide and realization hits him. “Could this be..your first kiss?”
“WHAT NO- I mean- I’ve kissed plenty of boys before.”
“Then what’s the problem with kissing me?”
“You really want to do this?”
“I’m just trying to prove a point.” He shrugs.
You’re sitting there, cheeks flushed as you chew on your bottom lip and then you look up at him. His arm is now resting on the side of your seat and he’s dangerously close. Why was he ten times more handsome up close in a dark parking lot? Did the waiter spike your drink? Why were you suddenly dizzy and unable to breathe properly?
“Let’s get it over with then you idiot.” You sigh. You have to put up this fake act. You had to beat that cocky blonde at his own game. And you had to show him that he wasn’t the best at everything.
So he leans in and you do too. The smell of burnt caramel is stronger than ever and you swear it was intoxicating. Also, where did he get a mint from? Was he planning on doing this all along? Pressuring you into some kind of kissing competition because he knew you wouldn’t refuse? But that meant he would probably like you too. That couldn’t be..right?
But when his lips are on yours and your mouths are dancing together, there’s one thought that pops into your head.
Fuck. He was good.
One hand is under your chin, tilting your head up and the other is pulling you in deeper- closer, and you’re desperately trying not to melt into his hands. If he wasn’t careful, you’d probably let him know how head over heels in love you were.
He pulls away, his lips now pink and swollen, and he cocks an eyebrow. His face just screams it-was-great-wasn’t-it-? and you’re sitting there unable to even think straight.
“So?” He asks, folding his arms against his chest. He knows he won the argument and he knows he proved his point, so did he still need to ask? Oh. Because he’s Bakugou Katsuki.
“That..was kind of hot.” You admit. He’s laughing as your cheeks flush a bright red but you can’t get the feeling of his lips on yours out of your mind.
“So now that we’ve officially kissed, we should officially date as well.” He’s throwing you a glance as he buckles in his seatbelt but you’re too dazed to hear what he said.
“Hmm?” You question, your finger is on your bottom lip and your mind is attempting to wrap around the fact that you and the boy you’ve had a crush on for the past 7 months just kissed you.
“I said,” He leans over a second time, this time placing a small peck on your lips, “be my girl.”
#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha x reader#bnha#mha#boku no hero#my hero academia#masterlist#bakugou katsuki#bakugou#bakugou katsuki x reader fluff#bnha x reader fluff
999 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Great Supernatural Rewatch Project - Salvation
I started writting this in the middle of season 13 but RL and work and some mental health issues made me take a step back from fandom in general and well, I was also fearing this would be an unending job since the series JUST.KEPT. GOING.
However, now that the series is done (And omg, what a clusterfuck that was. My tallies are going to go insane if I get there) and thus there’s an ending in sight, I will do my best to finish season 1, and try and get the rest of the seasons in a more timely manner. Say, before they do the inevitable reunion and ignore the last episode completely.
(I’m going to be honest, part of the problem was that Supernatural used to be SO good back then, and when I see the new episodes I weep a bit inside. I can’t believe they were so much better at creating story arcs when they weren’t TRYING to create story arcs)
Of course, now we all know that Dean’s plots in general will not have a happy ending no matter what, and that makes that particular tally bittersweet. But there are STILL people who claim that nope, Dean was never mistreated by the writers and well, Jack damn it, I am not going to let that claim go without bringing numbers to the table. Hopefully, it won’t take me 15 years to finish (Because by then, I would be the only one caring I guess)
In any case, last lap for Season 1 and we begin with Salvation.
General stuff
A specific reason for me having rage quitted this episode in particular for so long: For some stupid copyright thing with Netflix, they don’t have Carry On My Wayward Son as the song for the final recap –at least in Netflix Latam. And Supernatural without Carry On My Wayward Son is no Supernatural. So I had to hunt my DVDs. Then my computer DVD player died. Then I decided to make 5 webcomics at the same time. THEN I decided to start doing illustration works, and three other projects and let’s just say I am a bit of a workaholic and leave it like that as the rest is not SPN-related.
Ahem.
Funny thing about the Road so Far –you know, besides being a LOT shorter than the ones we’re getting now- is that it focuses a lot more on DEAN at the beginning, while if you watch the show, well, we know most of those Dean scenes come from MoW episodes and not the actual mytharc. Another interesting thing is that if one believes those things to be chronological, it makes it as if the Colt had been with the brothers for a lot longer than half an episode, and that Sam’s issue with the visions is not that recent. Edition Magic everyone! Also, omg, they were babies when the series started, and how WEIRD is to see John looking at them with pride and smiling at Dean at some points.
Anyway, the recap and the epicness that is Carry On my Wayward Son ends and we start the actual plot.
Hello Pastor Jim. Goodbye Pastor Jim. And here Supernatural begins the long, long tradition of killing characters who could’ve been useful later on, and more importantly, that could’ve been the boys’s support system later on. While here it’s understandable since we need to show how dangerous and vicious Meg is –ah, irony that in about 8 seasons people will be rooting for her Redemption- it also makes the Hunters kind of useless. I mean, he has all that weaponry and only uses a knife? Sigh. Really, a waste. Pastor Jim as a concept was really intriguing –and I don’t think we’ve heard of any other hunter who was also a priest. Funny, when we have so many demons free now. There’s also the fact that when Pastor Jim claims that she can’t be in the church because it’s hallowed ground, she replies that “That might work with the minor leagues, but not with her” and I wonder… did we ever got a demon that couldn’t enter a church? Because right now out of the top of my head I can’t remember, and yet Pastor Jim was surprised but later no one seems to think it weird there were signs of demonic activity around his body. Another sign that, as engaging as the series was, once we start digging the world building, things fall apart very quickly.
Actually, if I may digress for a bit, here we have the very first look at Supernatural´s second biggest problem: killing support characters that may have been useful lately. Here it is because Kirkpe had this weird idea that Hunting would never be glamorized by the show/fandom and it would be a completely miserable and lonely existence. He also didn’t think that the series would survive past season 2. So, ok, killing the guy we only knew by throw away lines didn’t seem so bad. By season 13 every single recurring character had died at least once –and there were petitions to bring back I think every one of those who haven’t come back- it’s a big problem.
As I restarted writing, I also realized that the mere existence of Pastor Jim and his room of awesome research and weapons creates a problem in the future about the Men of Letters because… ok, so ONE member of the clerigy knew enough about demons and stuff to be a hunter and have THE Hunter as his main contact (John Winchester was sort of a legend back then. And he had also fell out of contact with many others so the fact that he and Pastor Jim were still friendly? Kind of interesting), but what about the rest? Did the Vatican have any contact with the British men of Letters or the American ones? And if so, what the hell did they think when suddenly ALL the Men of Letters disappeared? Ok, so that’s a lot of stuff that doesn’t matter right now as it won’t actually exist until much, much, MUCH latter, but see what I mean when I say that they didn’t plan anything and the lack of a series bible hurts the show more than it helped it thrive? I am realizing right now I could write a whole treaty on the Men of Letters and their non-relationship with hunters ONLY using this cold beginning and the Henry Winchester episode.
But this is not the time for that, so we get our title card and a very, VERY young Jeffrey Dean Morgan.
We move to John who is explaining off camera everything he knows about Yellow Eye´s plan. We can tell it´s not much as he thinks it came out of hibernation and that the whole attacking families is part of a cycle, but back then it was impressive how much he had managed to find out about this demon. We also know that it attacks exactly when the baby in the house is six months old, which brings us to this little jewel:
JOHN It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us.
SAM Families with infants?
JOHN Yeah. The night of the kid's six-month birthday.
SAM I was six months old that night?
JOHN Exactly six months.
SAM So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me? So Mom's death...Jessica. It's all because of me?
DEAN We don't know that Sam.
SAM Oh really? Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure Dean.
DEAN For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault.
SAM Right. It's not my fault but it's my problem.
DEAN No it's not your problem it's our problem!
Now, in the following seasons we will know that yes, it was ALL about Sam. But right now, the characters and the viewers don´t know that. We know that a lot of families were killed by the demon (That at this point was still “The demon” and wouldn´t become Azazael until later), and that he doesn´t take the children. So… how did Sam leap from “this demon attacks families with 6 month old children” to “It´s all about ME!”? He even ignores that Dean and John lost Mary for his last line, when he decides it´s his problem and not their problem. Also, and this is important for the “Dean is the most awful person to Sam” crowd… Dean immediately tells Sam that no, it´s not his fault. While he could harbor some ill feelings against Sam –and demon Dean, 8 seasons later, will voice them- at this point he is 100% on Sam´s side. There’s also a sideway glance from John to DEAN when Sam claims that everything is about him, and then I wonder exactly why, if John knew all about the fact that the demon chased six month old children specifically, he never resented Sam over it. One would think that given John’s love for Mary and deep desire to revenge, Sam would really be the outcast and the one only treated like a soldier (as he claims he was, but not really as we’ve seen), instead of Dean who was completely blameless in the whole thing.
(Also, this is the first time we see that Azazael´s plan didn´t make much sense IF we believed that Kirkpe had everything planned. But that´s a discussion for another time)
Anyway, John interrupts the argument to explain that while he has no idea what the demon is after (Another thing that later would be contradicted as he knew Sam had powers), but that he has managed to figure out his pattern of attack to the point that it even repeated it for Jessica’s killing (Even if much, much later, we’ll learn that it wasn’t Azazael the one who killed her, and Demons would completely forego the signs when attacking. Have I mentioned I miss the times when the myths made sense?) and the three of them pack up for their first real hunt together as they decide they will save the next baby on the demon’s list, in a town named Salvation.
Important thing to note: when John recites the demon signs, Dean immediately replies “that happened in Lawerence”. He remembers, quite clearly, what happened a week before his mother died even if logistically, at his age? He wouldn’t care nor notice. Sure, he remembers his mom’s death because that was traumatic. But random cow deaths before that? Weird show.
If Sam noticed or not the signs before Jessica died, we don’t know. John is the one who points out they happened.
After two gorgeous road shots where we see John’s truck being followed by Baby (yet another thing we lost, John’s truck. I know we needed to have the guys together all the time, but man, if Sam had inherited it, they would’ve been able to cover more terrain at times, have double the arsenal and maybe not being identified by everyone and their leviathan in season 7, but I digress), and just entering Salvation John stops, obviously spooked by something. As Dean stops behind him, they find out that Pastor Jim is dead, and John got a call from another hunter named Caleb to tell him. They assume it may be the demon they’re chasing, or maybe another demon that was looking for Pastor Jim specifically but that last theory is not very probable.
Here I have to pause to applaud Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s acting, as you can practically FEEL John’s despair at knowing an old friend of him died, and that HE was probably the cause for that death. A Winchester trait, of course, blaming themselves for everything bad that happens in their world, but unlike Sam’s early outburst, here it seems far more desperate. Of course, JDM had a lot more experience than Jared at that point, but I really wanted to make a note of it because we lost a LOT of that characterization for John, where he actually WORRIED about people and not just the hunt. Even as he decides the plan for finding out what baby the demon will take in a week, we can see him broken and confused. So much that while Sam calls him “sir” when receiving orders, Dean continues the conversation by calling him “Dad���.
John then declares that this ends now, obviously feeling responsible for what happened to his friend. A long shot from the flanderized man we’d hear about in future seasons who was infamous for letting his hunting partners die without so much as a second glance.
Also, and not to be mean to the writers, but in their endless accidentally making Sam unsympathetic, they made him say that there were too many children in the county that could be a victim and that it would take forever to check all of them. While I KNOW the intent was to make clear that they had a deadline of one week, it comes out weirdly as “I don’t want to do the footwork.” Seriously, writers should be careful with that.
Actually, let’s dissect that. Because I just thought of two ways they could’ve fixed it AND give us more info.
JOHN Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health centre in this county. We split up, cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week.
SAM Dad that could be dozens of kids. How do we know which one's the right one?
JOHN We check em all that's how. You got any better ideas?
SAM No sir.
So, first way to make Sam not look that bad: Give the line to Dean. I wouldn’t like it specially, but hey, he’s the sidekick, not the hero, and so far he has only wanted to bail on ONE hunt because he wasn’t sure it was a supernatural hunt so he’d be better standing than Sam in that regard.
Second way: Make Sam say that YES, he has a better idea. Because the brothers ALREADY faced Max, so he could say they could look for a baby that was a bit “strange”, like, with poltergeist stuff going around. John could not believe him, but at least Sam would be being proactive.
In any case, they separate as John planned and we see each of them get into the hospital records. We get a glimpse of John’s collection of fake IDs, that include one for a Morgue forensic doctor, then Sam getting a homely nurse giving him files and him taking notes, and Dean… getting flirty with a very hot nurse.
And I make a point of the “Oh, look, Dean is an irresponsible womanizer” trope because once again the writers shoot themselves in the foot by showing the opposite of what they were telling (And no, this time I can’t blame it on Jensen’s acting and refusal to look at his female co-stars without respect).
WOMAN Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?
DEAN (smiling) Oh God yes.
She smiles and looks down.
DEAN (Holding up his ID) Only I'm uh....working right now, so...
The writers here make us remember that a) Dean is AMAZINGLY charismatic, as the woman IS flattered and seems interested, and b) That he will NOT dump his work for a quickie. We don’t even get a “maybe later” that could make him look as if he was really into her. It’s just that he flirts naturally, or at least, this is what we can infer now, as so far he hasn’t had any one night stand fling. The one time we saw him have a sexual encounter in the middle of a hunt was with an ex-girlfriend.
And again I have to wonder what was Sera Gamble’s intention with those scenes as yes, this was written by the same team as Faith, another episode where Sam’s good intentions tend to have a darker side, and gave Dean some amazingly cool scenes.
We don’t know what Dean says to the woman, as we cut back to Sam, coming out of the hospital just in time to have a very convenient vision of a woman, a nursery and a fire. Thankfully, the vision also comes with the useful audio hint of a train passing by, so Sam gets out his map and starts checking where that could be, which leads him to the house in his vision.
And by this point, we know we’re in the right track and this is an important Myth Arc episode, because Sam only has multiple visions in Myth Arc episodes, and he has one the moment he steps in front of the house in said vision. The gods of convenience smile upon him as right then and there a woman pushing a pram comes by, and he manages to talk to her, all friendly like by pretending to having just moved. Then Sam learns the woman’s name is Monica, her baby is Rosie, and Rosie is just six months old, exactly to the day.
Also, that she’s a very quiet baby and that it sometimes seems as if she was reading your mind. Oh, and that Monica really is blind to suspicious men asking her about her family with a face that reads “Oh shit, this is bad”.
Now, HERE is where the whole “five year myth arc” story falls completely. I mean, we already knew it was pretty unlikely it was real, given Kirkpe’s original interviews, but the mere existence of Rosie contradicts every single future story beat. Because if SHE has powers before Azazael goes into her house, then it means that the babies he was hunting didn’t get powers because of him, just that his blood either connected them (hence Sam’s very specific visions), made said powers far more powerful (quite likely), or made them a little bit more prone to violence/prideful behavior. All of those possibilities match with the plan of “raising” a new King or Queen of Hell, that would be faithful to Azazael, but are a bit iffy on the “finding Lucifer’s vessel” thing. Especially since we later learn that the Angels were also helping, and all Hell knew that Lucifer’s vessel HAD to come from the Winchester/Campbell bloodline due to Cain and Abel being the roots of said bloodline, and later pretty much everyone knew Sam was Lucifer’s vessel so the whole targeting a ton of kids, in particular after Mary’s death, is kinda weird.
Oh, Lux, you will say, it is because he wanted to hide his true intentions! No one knew that Sam had been feed demon blood!
Except that the important parties, namely Heaven and Hell, did. Michael had Heaven convinced of his orders, so even if a rogue angel found out that they were speed running the Apocalypse, said angel could be killed. And any demon who was against getting Lucifer back on top would be smart enough to keep quiet so, why the secrecy?
And again, ok, I buy the original demon blood kids being important to “hide” Lucifer’s vessel but… Rosie? What good would it do to Azazael’s plan to have a psychic 4 year old when Lucifer rose? Was “little four year old girl” a good match against a grown up hunter? What was Azazel thinking, if that was the plan all the time?
Now, I want to make clear this doesn’t make THIS episode or the Season-myth arc bad. This original “Boy King of Hell” storyline WAS good. It had a lot of potential, made sense for Sam and since it was before the days of the eternal “What is wrong with Sam?” seasons, there was no boredom of a repeat. It also set a very good question of what made a monster a monster, which would be explored a bit more in Season 2. And it was long before we realized Dean having a myth arc was a pipe dream, so there was no issue there either. It made sense.
But the fact that the writers kind of forgot about everything I just pointed out with Rosie’s scene to try and weld this to the “Heaven vs. Hell” storyline in season 4, and then just promptly forgot because Sam’s powers were then firmly connected to Azazael’s blood so they never came up again and even worse, we never find another psychic kid that could’ve been feed blood by Azazael THIS year that John was chasing him? (Since we know there were no other survivors from Sam’s generation, and later we have a scene that proves that there were no previous generations to Sam’s), it's kind of weird. Personally, I dunno about you, but maybe a return to this storyline in season 6 would’ve been a lot better than we got. Maybe.
By the way, I am not counting the Boy King of Hell story arc as a dropped plot for Sam yet, as we’re going to keep with this at least until season 3. Yes, now we know it didn’t go anywhere, but at the time, and for these episodes in particular, it was THE myth arc of Supernatural. So it can’t be counted as dropped plot yet.
In any case, Sam goes and tells John and Dean about his vision and… oh, boy do we have to move John’s reaction to Emotional Violence.
It’s not good.
But before he can do more damage to Dean’s psyche, Sam gets a call from our favorite demon, Meg. Even if he doesn’t recognize her voice immediately which is weird because a) he did throw her off a window and one would think that makes a girl memorable, and b) it’s not as he knows that many girls who would call him, despite Dean’s best efforts to get him a new girl.
Meg dismisses Sam and asks for John. She makes clear that she is not playing, that she knows he has the Colt and that he will kill every single person who has ever helped John unless he gives it to her that same day at midnight. And to the brothers’ surprise, John accepts those terms (Unfortunately not before we loss Caleb too. I have a lot less interest in Caleb as a character given that he has exactly half a line in the whole show, but it’s still it’s sad to see a guy so defiant even in the face of death go so soon).
Meg also points out that John having the Colt is a “declaration of war” which is interesting as it sort of implies that if he hadn’t gotten it, then the demons would leave him and the brothers alone. And I find that incredibly funny since… no they won’t. And Azazael would’ve been ok if Sam kept the gun anyway, given why they really wanted and once again I am putting holes on the idea that this was planned from the start, aren’t I?
In any case, John declares that Meg is a demon “or is possessed by one” which… ok? First and only time we get the possibility of a demon not using a meat suit. I don’t think this is a mistake, because after all, this is back before the guys faced demons in a normal basis so they could believe that they had their own bodies besides the ones they possessed (And, more importantly, before there was a retcon that made the brothers face and know about demons since pretty much ever). To be completely fair, as much as I love Jimmy and the whole Lucifer arc once it started to make sense… I would’ve been ok if vessels weren’t needed. It added a lot of complications and ended up making the brothers actual serial killers.
Ahem.
After that little gem of wisdom that will be ignored forever, John declares that he will be taking the gun to Meg to avoid more killing and we get another questionable line for Sam. And I am curious as to how to tally it as it’s the opposite of him wanting to leave the hunt, but it’s not that nice either:
DEAN What do we do?
JOHN I'm going to Lincoln. DEAN What? JOHN It doesn't look lilke we have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die, our friends die.
SAM Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family. That gun is all we got, you can't just hand it over.
I mean, yes, it is true that the demon is coming for Monica (Well, actually, he’s coming for Rosie, the baby, but I will let that slip pass. Sam is not interested in married ladies), and that with the gun they can kill the demon but it’s not all they’ve got. By this time, Sam has already had his big hero moment when he exorcised a plane in free fall so they could do that, then chase the demon again and then kill it.
But what is jarring is how he hears “a lot of people die, OUR FRIENDS die” and he goes “yeah, whatever, we have a mission to fulfill”.
Which is precisely what later episodes will tell us John used to do, and was the reason why John was not exactly liked by the general hunter population. And at the same time, it’s an eerie reminder of Wendigo, where Sam is willing to let innocents die (his family friends, in this particular case, just as he heard Caleb choke on his own blood) in order to get his way (revenge on the demon that killed Jess. NOT revenge on the demon that killed his mom, since at this point, Sam is still on the “I never knew that woman” train of thought).
Sure, his mind is in the hunt, and that’s commendable because yes, in the long run, killing Azazael would save more innocents (And probably stop the Apocalypse, not that Sam or the writers at that time know it), but it is still strange to see our nominal hero simply not care for his friends’ lives. I mean, at this point WE don’t know about Bobby, so the closest to a parental figure that is not John that Sam had was Pastor Jim and he just DIED.
Worst part is, this could be solved really easy: Just have DEAN be the one who voices the complaint, and have “empathic” Sam mumble that there has to be a way to save everyone (Which, of course, John will mention in a second). It would make Dean look bad, sure, but we’ve been told once and again that Dean never, EVER goes against John plans. Which… not true, ut we will talk about that later. The scene continues, and John declares that he will go to Meg alone, with a fake Colt and while Dean thinks that that won’t work, Sam has a different complaint:
DEAN Yeah but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?
JOHN I just...I just need to buy a few hours, that's all.
SAM You mean for Dean and me. You want us to stay here, and kill this demon by ourselves?
JOHN No Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want....I want Mary alive. It's just....I just want this to be over.
And oh, boy. Do this four lines again hold so much weight.
First, once again, Dean seems to be worried for John (logically, he’s their dad), while Sam is making the weirdest line in the universe sort of work because he’s complaining that John is trusting them to kill the demon, something HE wants to do and not four seconds ago was saying they had to do, as if it was John shifting HIS job to Sam. Seriously, I don’t want to think the worst of Sam but when you take out Jared’s acting, the text doesn’t do the younger Winchester’s any favors.
And finally… John’s lines that encompass pretty much Dean’s philosophy in the following seasons. “I want to stop losing people we love” is pretty telling, but what comes next? He actually WANTS Sam to go back to college and not worry about the Supernatural. He actively agrees that Dean doesn’t have a home, and WANTS Dean to have one. It’s as close as love as we’ll see from John to Dean in Season 1, and it hurts. It hurts because we can tell he knows he won’t be there to see it… and now, in hindsight with the finale having aired, we also know Dean didn’t get that. (And to be fair, this is the John who did deserve Heaven. Not the flanderized version we’d get in the future)
Although, ironically, Mary got to be alive again, so… One out of three?
(No, seriously, it’s obvious the writers didn’t even remember this speech when Season 12 hit, much less Season 15)
Ahem.
Dean is sent to get a fake Colt, while Sam and John wait for him. If they talked about anything, we don’t know, but when they exchange guns, Dean voices what we all know is true:
DEAN You know this is a trap don't you. That's why Meg wants you to come alone?
JOHN I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded. Holy water, Mandaic, amulets...
DEAN Dad... JOHN What? DEAN Promise me something. JOHN What's that. DEAN This thing goes south just...get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed all right, you're no good to us dead. JOHN Same goes for you. (There is a long pause) All right listen to me. They made the bullets special for this colt. There's only four of them left. Without them this gun is useless. You make every shot count.
SAM Yes sir.
JOHN Been waiting a long time for this fight. Now it's here I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you boys now. It's your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?
Again, I wish they remembered all they had to get rid of demons before, you know, killing everyone willy-nilly. I mean, I don’t even think I know what Mandalac IS but hey, John says it works, it works. And once more, Dean gets a line that makes clear he is the empathic, loving brother, when it wouldn’t have hurt Sam to say it. In fact, it would make clear that no matter what, he doesn’t hate John. But nope, Sam only acts like the soldier we’re TOLD Dean is, while Dean makes clear that for him, family is more important than revenge (And boy will that come to bite him in the ass later, not in the series, but in this same episode).
Also, I have to admit. When I started this rewatch, John’s final line was just a good moment for John to start letting go of his anger. Now? After that horrid finale? It hurts so, so much. But it hurts more because I KNOW that there’s no way it was intentional. Obviously, Kirkpe didn’t know the series would last 15 years, and I highly doubt Dabb remembered this scene when writing 15x20. But even so, it ends up being Dean’s epitaph. OUCH.
In any case, the Winchester separate again, and we go into act three. Get ready for the feels.
John Winchester hunting alone is a thing of beauty. Seeing him scope the place, check the water tank and immediately think of a plan? Makes me wish Jeffrey Dean Morgan had stayed longer on the show. Sure, John became an asshole, but in this episode he’s still not that bad, we still have no episodes that make clear he didn’t care for Dean, and wasn’t textually abusive. And I am willing to bet that if JDM had stayed, John would’ve evolved more to be a Bobby-like character. But well, What ifs is not why you came to this meta for.
As John is hunting, the brothers are staking out the house were they know Azazael will attack. And while they talk and decide that they have no way to get the family out (In a nice callback to how none of their excuses ever work) we get to this little gem of an exchange:
SAM I wonder how Dad's doing.
DEAN I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up.
SAM I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing us up.
Where once again we see where the brother’s priorities lie, and I wonder why the hell the writers ever thought they were writing Sam as an empathic character.
Because yes, Dean is wishing he could be out there helping his Dad, proving that for him, it has always been about the family. Not the hunting, but the protecting. But Sam doesn’t want to protect John. He wants John protecting Them. And helping them in the revenge hunt, not trying to save others.
Sure, we know the brothers are there to save an innocent mother, but John is also saving a ton of hunters and people who, in the past, were nice and open to the family. And it would’ve been so much easier to make Sam look better if he instead had said “I’d feel a lot better if we hadn’t had to separate” or something like that, that proved he saw BOTH missions were important.
Seriously, I do wonder why the writers made these choices, and I wish someone had asked this at cons.
We go back to John, who, really, Is an amazing hunter even if he is a horrible father. Also, I wonder if he got ordained at a web church, in order to be able to sanctify water. That would be such a John Winchester thing to do, and I do wonder why the boys never did it too. ANYWAY, he hands the gun to Meg, and to her ally that came so that we could have a scene to prove the Colt is fake as the ally shoots Meg.
As John says, Meg was lucky the gun was fake. And once again, I do wonder what the plan was if it WAS the Colt. I mean, Meg was Azazael’s second in command. Why would nameless demon risk killing her? Or did he kinow the gun was fake?
In any case, this makes the moment where we can be 100% sure that Meg’s meat suit 1.0 was dead. I mean, she could’ve survived the fall in Shadow, but a bullet to the chest? No way.
We go back to the brothers, and Sam breaks every single law of a procedural show by giving this great speech about how thankful he is to Dean for everything, and how he needs to say that “in case” something happened.
Dean is definitely not impressed and reminds him that the only one dying today is Azazael.
As we see John temporarily escape from Meg and her muscle boy, we go back to the brothers who see the demon omens start up so they get ready for the final fight.
The brothers manage to save Monica and her baby, despite the very understandable interference from Hubbard, the husband (I mean, you would not react nicely to two strangers intruding in your house and yelling to your wife to not go into the nursery room), however, before Sam can shoot Azazel, he disappears into smoke (A really interesting question here is, WHY did Sam wait to shoot and then wasted a bullet, but I digress).
Going completely against M.O, Azazael makes the CRIB burst into flames, but fortunately Dean has already gotten Rosie out of it so the brothers escape the flaming house. While Monica cries her thanks, Sam notices that Azazael is still inside, and tries to go after him, but Dean stops him because he is not going to lose his brother to the fire. By the way, I am not counting “Dean stopping Sam from going into a burning building” as “Dean forcing Sam to do something” since, uh, he was saving Sam’s life and it’s something anyone in Dean’s place would’ve done.
At the same time, we see John getting captured by Meg and her muscle boy because he didn’t think about getting a third escape route (But honestly? That was pretty much a plot necessity. John was HEAVILY prepared for that fight)
Back in the hotel, Dean is worried that John is not answering his calls, while Sam is furious that Dean didn’t let him kill himself by running into a burning house. They have a nasty fight that mirrors the one they had back in the pilot, but since it IS a fight between the brothers, you know the drill. We’re examining it under Violence.
Once Sam calms down, he tells Dean to try calling John again. Unfortunately, it’s Meg who answers and she tells Dean that they’re never seeing their dad again.
And we get the first “To be continued” for the series (Which to be honest, despite all the little continuity mistakes I mentioned here? Is still pretty epic)
Violence
Well, we had to run out of episodes where the brothers don’t fight each other at some point, didn’t we?
This fight, over Sam wanting to kill himself in his search for revenge, is a very neat parallel to the fight they had back in the Pilot, over Sam NOT wanting to even involve himself in the family’s search for revenge. Which I know it’s supposed to be ironic and a show of character growth since now Dean is the one saying that revenge is not worth their lives but… it falls a little bit flat because the reason why Sam is so gung-ho in killing Azazael is, once again, a very selfish one and the way in he expresses it makes it quite clear. (Again, I do wonder if the writers stopped to think about the implications of Sam only getting really into hunting when it was about him or his losses?)
But let’s start at the beginning:
SAM If you had just let me go in there, I coulda ended all this.
DEAN Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life.
SAM You don't know that.
DEAN So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?
SAM Yeah. Yeah you're damn right I am.
DEAN Well that's not going to happen, not as long as I'm around.
This right here? Is a nice summary of the relationship of the brothers for the whole series. Sam wants to do something stupid, like, say, running into a burning building, Dean is there to stop him before he hurts himself.
Also, let’s make clear the use of first person by Sam. It’s not “We coulda ended this”, as in the family ending the hunt, but “I coulda ended this”. Again, at this point, not something that is a problem, but considering hindsight, we can see how the writers are completely invested in SAM as a sole main character, and write him as such, while Dean is more of the sidekick.
In any case, the argument continues, still not escalating to violence.
SAM What the hell are you talking about Dean, we've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about.
DEAN Sam I wanna waste it. I do. Okay? But it's not worth dying over.
SAM What?
DEAN I mean it. If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed then I hope we never find the damn thing.
Important thing how Sam apparently forgot he left for four (two) years and wanted out of the family business, now that he is angry and into the revenge thing. It’s not “You’ve been searching for this demon your whole life”, which would’ve been correct AND a logical counterargument against Dean. Before this episode, Sam was supposedly the brother who understood that revenge was a way of living, while Dean is the one who was Daddy’s little soldier. But here, when it actually would matter to the narrative, it is as if Sam’s wishes for a normal life are completely forgotten and it’s Dean the one who understands that there’s more to living than revenge (Which, btw, is consistent through the season despite everyone claiming that Dean needs Sam to keep hunting. All season, Dean has been giving Sam outs, telling him it’s ok to quit)
And of course, Dean here proves that Sam is more important to him than revenge for his mother, as he is willing to never get to kill the demon as long as his family, his brother in particular, survives.
Poor Dean.
SAM That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom.
DEAN You said yourself once, that no matter what we do, they're gone, and they're never coming back.
SAM Don't you say that, not you! Not after all this don't you say that.
DEAN Sam look. The three of us...that's all we have...and it's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together man...and without you or Dad....
Unfortunately, script doesn’t quiet convey the scene as there’s a LONG pause between “That thing killed Jess” and “That thing killed Mom”. Enough so that we can believe that Sam is using that second phrase not because he cares (in the Pilot he made clear he didn’t), but to make Dean get on board with the whole “I can kill myself if it means getting revenge” plan. In other words, once again, Sam is weaponizing Mary against Dean, and that is a really nasty habit the younger Winchester never quite shakes out of. Instead, Dean shows how he LISTENED to Sam back in the Pilot and repeats Sam’s words to him on the bridge.
Which is when Sam loses it and pushes Dean against a wall, Dean not defending himself at all, and yells that Dean has no right to say what Sam told Dean the very first hunt they had together after years of separation.
And of course, once Dean mentions their father, Sam starts calming down. NOT when Dean says that he’s barely holding it together, or that he only has them. Just when he mentions their father who is, in Sam’s mind, the one who can help him get revenge.
The fight ends, but Sam never once apologizes for what he said to Dean, nor for the fight. Which, by the way, contradicts his claim that Dean “always has his back”.
Emotional Violence
Whenever we have John on an episode, we’re going to have to talk about emotional violence and I kind of hate that because on one hand, I get how John could’ve been a very tragic figure that loved his sons but still wanted to avenge his wife, and not being the abusive bastard we know and don’t love that much.
When Sam and Dean explain about Sam’s visions, and how they started as nightmares but have grown in intensity, his reaction is quite subdued, but clear. He is not happy, but the problem isn’t the visions –for a man obsessed with the supernatural, his outward reaction to his younger son being a psychic is quite calm- but that they didn’t inform him of what was going on:
JOHN All right. When were you going to tell me about this?
DEAN We didn't know what it meant.
JOHN All right, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me.
DEAN dumps the coffee jug and cup back on the counter and strides toward JOHN.
DEAN Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad I called you from Lawrence all right? Sam called you when I was dying. I mean, getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the lottery.
JOHN You're right. Although I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry.
And let’s be clear, John’s anger is not directed at Sam, it’s directed at Dean. “Something like this starts happening to your brother” is not “Something like this starts happening to either of you”. Which is also a show of how good an actor JOHN is in universe because WE know that he knew. Missouri TOLD him point blank that Sam was powerful and that he could have known that John was around during the Home episode. But here, he acts as if this was news to him when he could ALSO have told them what to expect if that happened. (Mind you, I am assuming that Sera Gamble knew or remembered about Home’s script when writing this and didn’t just forget or was unaware that John was supposed to know)
Now, all season, Sam has been complaining and yelling about how John doesn’t answer their calls, doesn’t seem to care what’s going on with them. So it’d be logical and in character for Sam to say something here. But instead is DEAN, Dad’s little soldier, the one we’ve SEEN obeying John without question finally have enough and talk back to his father with some truths. And it’s VERY interesting that his first complain is not that John didn’t care that Dean almost died, but that he didn’t reply when Dean called from Lawrence. One could almost infer that Dean expected John not to care if Dean died, but was honestly hurt that he didn’t care about a case that could’ve involved MARY.
John, surprisingly, sort of agrees. He does say “I’m sorry”, which makes him the Winchester who is quicker to say those words… but he still manages to make a threat against Dean “I am not too crazy about this NEW tone of yours”.
Making it clear that before? Dean never talked back. And John doesn’t like it when his soldiers talk back.
It makes it hard to believe John ever thought of Dean as his son and makes it very clear why Dean never understood Sam’s confidence that Dean was the favored one.
Speeches and Apologies
I considered not including this particular speech, but then I remembered that Supernatural is ALSO famous for their big emotional speeches, and this is Sam’s first, and also, Dean’s first time listening to someone he cares about give him the “I am saying goodbye because I am going kamikaze” speech and after all the drama in season 15, I guess it’s necessary to do some dissection.
It is important that despite all the things that Sam has done to Dean, the words “I’m sorry” are never uttered here.
SAM Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. DEAN For what? SAM For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And ah...I don't know I just wanted to let you know, Just in case DEAN Whoa whoa whoa, are you kidding me? SAM What? DEAN Don't say just in case something happens to you. I don't wanna hear that freaking speech man. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody. Except that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?
This is not a bad “freaking speech”. I understand why Dean didn’t want to hear it, because it is like jinxing the mission (And, let’s be honest, it did), but it’s not a bad speech.
Except that, reading it again, it lacks one important part. Sure, Sam thanks Dean for always being there (Forgetting that, at least three times this season alone, he has accused Dean of not having his back and being unreliable. Which will ALSO be a constant theme in the series’s long run), but he never mentions the times HE did things that would be hard to back up. Which, again, I am not counting as a bad thing against him in this precise moment in time, since he is young, in his roaring roadtrip of revenge, and we’ve only know the brothers for a year, but it is the beginning of a series’ long crutch to make us forgive all of Sam’s sins without him actually doing the work to be forgiven.
On the other hand, it all goes to waste a bit later when Sam starts hitting Dean for the horrible sin of not letting him run into a burning building and kill himself so… it’s not really a “thank you for having my back” speech but a “You better remember, you never fight me and my choices are the best” speech in hindsight. Which… not good on Sam, no.
Double narrative standards
This episode is kind of balanced, except for that little moment where we’re supposed to think Dean is wrong for telling Sam that revenge is not worth their lives. So there’s not much to write in this particular segment.
Final Tally
Ok, back in the saddle. And after all that, I decided not to tally Sam’s little slip about not caring if their loved ones die as long as he gets to kill Azazael. Let me know if you disagree.
The count is still not good on Sam’s side, but as always, you are free to disagree with me, and dm me if you think I missed a tally or I should change one. If your argument is solid and canon based, I will listen to it and may change the numbers.
Numbers (or the TL;DR summary)
(Episode/Total so far)
Times Dean has lied to Sam or to a loved one: 0 / 0
Times Sam has lied to Dean or to a loved one: 0 / 3
Times Dean has been caught in a lie: 0 / 0
Times Sam has been caught in a lie: 0 / 1
Times Dean has hit Sam in anger: 0 / 1
Times Sam has hit Dean in anger: 1 / 4
Times Dean's lies or secrets have caused someone's death: 0 / 0
Times Sam's lies or secrets have caused someone's death: 0 / 1
Times Dean has abandoned (Or wanted to abandon) a hunt in the middle for his own needs: 0 / 0
Times Sam has abandoned (Or wanted to abandon) a hunt in the middle for his own needs: 0 / 7
Times Dean forced Sam to do something: 0 / 0
Times Sam forced Dean to do something: 0 / 7
Secrets kept by Dean: 0 / 1
Secrets kept by Sam: 0 / 2
Times Dean has blamed Sam for something: 0 / 0
Times Sam has blamed Dean for something: 1 / 4
Times Dean has apologized with words to Sam: 0 / 3
Times Sam has apologized with words to Dean: 0 / 2
Times Dean has respected Sam's boundaries and/or rules: 0 / 7
Times Sam has respected Dean's boundaries and/or rules: 0 / 0
Times Dean hasn't respected Sam's boundaries and/or rules: 0 / 0
Times Sam hasn't respected Dean's boundaries and / or rules: 0 / 13
Times Dean has made fun of something Sam does or has: 0 / 6
Times Sam has made fun of something Dean does or has: 0 / 31
Times we focus on Dean's needs: 0 / 1
Times we focus on Sam's needs: 1 / 6
Arc episodes dedicated to Sam: 1 / 7
Filler episodes dedicated to Sam: 0 / 6
Arc episodes dedicated to Dean: 0 / 0
Filler episodes dedicated to Dean: 0 / 4
Arc episodes dedicated to both brothers (or to none): 0 / 2
Filler episodes dedicated to both brothers (or to none): 0 / 2
Dean's Dropped Plotlines: 0 / 1
Sam's Dropped Plotlines: 0 / 2
#Supernatural rewatch project#Salvation#Dean Winchester#Sam Winchester#not very Sam positive#John Winchester#Season 1#Season 1 episode 20#SPN#Supernatural meta
57 notes
·
View notes
Note
Did you model Bookkeeper Badger or Courtier Badger most of the time ?
In regards to the past tense you're using--it's the Badger primary model I dropped. Which, I've held on to some of its ideals, but they're just another part of my Bird primary system, and that feels very different.
My Badger secondary model is still good and kicking though!
I was just gonna write about how I use it (and how I try not to use it) to answer this ask, but then it turned into
Secondary Toast Revolving Door, Part 3
(Badger model edition)
and I'm just gonna roll with it.
I did have an unhealthy way I used my Badger secondary model that was... either extreme Bookkeeper, or it's actually been unhealthy Lion secondary all along and I've been mis-Sorting it and this is why the idea of using Lion secondary wigs me out a little. (It's fine when other people use it, but I find the prospect of using it myself at least slightly terrifying.)
Part of my problem is that I'm way too used to situations where pushing through despite feeling like I was about to collapse was the only option. It's probably got to do with... well, some childhood stuff I won't go into too deeply. My mom was in the hospital a lot. The school situation I was in just made everything worse. It's complicated.
Anyway, if I'm under stress, I dissociate out exhaustion, hunger, emotional distress, and even physical pain for hours or days at a time, and I can buckle down and hyperfocus on work (in what would be panic mode if I were more aware of my emotions during these periods). It sounds useful and badass but it really isn't.
Downside #1 is that I will eventually feel the effects of that panic, and any other needs I've been ignoring--it might be at a more convenient time, but those effects definitely won't be lessened.
Downside #2 is traumatic burnout. Do not try this at home. (I always hesitate to use the word "trauma" for my experiences, but the physical reaction I get to writing about some of this stuff says otherwise.)
Downside #3 is that I don't get to choose when my brain does or doesn't do this. It just happens when I'm under stress. I can't count how many times I've had an actual migraine and not noticed why I was so irritable for hours, when I could have taken something.
Downside #4 is that it works. This is possibly the worst one, because the phrase "do your best" takes on a cold sweat-inducing new meaning. My little "ability" has led to some absolutely buckwild performances under deadline, none of which I want to repeat, and I'm not sure I like knowing how much I can get done if I prioritize not failing over not burning out.
(On that note, if you thought my Badger primary model was Exploded last year, you should've seen it 3-4 years ago. I remember when this Kitten Witch post first went up, because I was like "...what? wait--")
In short, this is a very shitty superpower and I would like to re-roll.
I'm undecided whether this is a Badger flavored emergency mode, or the only Lion secondary I can recall using. I lean towards Badger because I have this pathological inability to half-ass anything, and it does not go away during emergencies. But it's possible that it felt Badger flavored because my unhealthy Badger primary model was egging it on with its self deprecating (...self dehumanizing?) exploded Badger crap.
So, wanna know how I got into these nasty deadline crunch situations where emergency hardcore Badger mode became "necessary"?
(I feel like I should reiterate my trigger warning on this series about now: we're talking about gifted kid burnout stuff and I'm about to sarcastically skewer some of my old thought processes here.)
Adequately warned? Great! Here are the step by step instructions to a real shitty time!
Take on a bunch of work while you're feeling okay, based on how much you think everyone else is doing.
Depression gets inevitably triggered somehow, by life stress or overwork or winter or whatever. Burn Bird secondary because that's been a stress response at least since high school.
Have absolutely no clue about the fact that your "limits" vary drastically and your productivity has huge peaks and valleys due to various forms of undiagnosed neurodivergence, which school/college is not designed to accommodate. So, rather than taking a rest and sorting out the stressful thing, get mad at yourself for "being lazy"!
Continue trying to work. Struggle wildly with executive dysfunction. Panic. Get frustrated and angry at yourself. It's cool, I'm sure this will make your Bird secondary start working again soon. (just kidding lol it's making it worse)
When you've aggravated your depression enough, shut down for a few months! Your work will still be there. Piling up. Taunting you. you're falling so far behind what are you doing everyone else can keep up except you
Get sick for a week. Feel relieved that at least now you have a legitimate excuse to not be working. This benefit may feel like it outweighs the symptoms of the flu or sinus infection or whatever you have.
Go into emergency hardcore mode, complete a ridiculous workload in the week before deadline, turn it all in, be almost too exhausted to feel guilty about doing everything last minute.
me: "I don't have ADHD! My focus is usually fine."
also me: this. ^ what is this.
So, I avoid that now. If I notice when Step 3 is happening and I can switch tasks--maybe clean my living space, do some laundry, get some good food, take care of tasks unrelated to whatever project it is that I'm too freaked out to work on--then Bird will be back in a week or two, assuming nothing else huge and stressful happens, and I'll have another productivity peak that'll let me catch up.
This is not the conventional wisdom. Conventional wisdom says you must never break momentum, you must schedule your work out 6 weeks ahead so you always know if you're on track, you must...!
Totally counterproductive for me. My brain is weird and did not come with a manual.
These days, on top of my Bird secondary, I model a mixture of Bookkeeper Badger and mirroring (a Courtier skill), for a number of purposes. I find work satisfying, I'm not afraid of long projects (that I choose), and that shifting, empathetic mirroring response is my default social mode.
But Badger's most important job is to gently take over when Bird is stressed out, and give it space to recover while methodically fixing anything about my situation that's not helping. It's good for that.
I prefer it to the alternative, anyway.
#sortinghatchats#secondary toast revolving door#hufflepuff secondary model#burned ravenclaw secondary#shc models#asks#paint speaks
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just Your Average Ghost Hunt
Author’s note: I felt like writing a one-shot today, taking a break from my longer WIPs, and here’s the result! I hope you all enjoy.
Summary: Virgil has a YouTube channel where he talks about cryptids and conspiracy theories. Tonight, he sets out with his friend Roman on a ghost hunt.
Warnings: ghosts, talk of death and murder, some crude humor, fear, Remus
Word Count: 1818
Writing Masterpost!
...
“You remembered the camera, right?”
“Wha—of course I remembered the camera! Come on, give me a little credit.”
“And it’s charged?”
Roman pouted at him, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Virgil smirked, hopping out of the car. “Just checking.”
“It’s your camera, isn’t charging it your job?”
“Knowing you, you’d happily run down the battery before we even got here, with all those selfies you take.”
“That’s what my phone’s for,” Roman claimed, jutting out his chin. He slung the camera strap around his neck, double checking that it was secure.
“Oh, I see.”
“We’re not going to get in trouble for coming here, are we?” Roman asked, following after his friend and staring up the road.
“What, are you scared, Princey?”
“No, I just—”
“Because if you’re scared,” Virgil sighed dramatically, “we can go, I guess, but you have to be the one to tell Logan we still haven’t gotten his proof of ghosts. It’s your fault if he thinks we just couldn’t find it.”
Roman huffed. “What is it with you and proving to him that ghosts are real, anyway, Winnie the Boo? Isn’t talking about cryptids and conspiracies more your usual gig?”
Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Is that really the best nickname you can come up with? Wow, you really must be scared.”
“What, we’re on a ghost hunt, aren’t we? And don’t avoid the question!”
Virgil rolled his eyes, closing the car door. He took out a flashlight and switched it on, casting their surroundings in high relief. “I wasn’t, calm down. I just want to see the look on the dude’s face when we show him actual video of a ghost.”
The pair’s boots crunched on gravel, twigs, and assorted debris as they began the trek up the long-disused road towards their destination. “So,” Roman asked as they clambered over a fallen tree, “what are you going to do if we can’t find one?”
“I have Photoshop.”
“Well—then why are we even out here? Just photoshop yourself up a ghost and be done with it, Wail-E!”
“That nickname was even worse. And besides—” Virgil hopped down, reaching up to help Roman, whose jacket had gotten caught on a snapped branch— “this is way more fun.”
“Speak for yourself,” Roman grumbled, inspecting his coat for damage.
“Come on, it’s not that far now.” Virgil started forward, flashlight held high. Roman scrambled after, not about to be left behind.
“I don’t like this.” Roman peered around at the surrounding trees, whose shapes and shadows seemed to warp as they passed, reaching towards the pair like spindly arms ready to drag them into the dark.
“I didn’t ask you to come. I’ve done plenty of these without you.”
“You’ve done plenty of these with Janus,” Roman corrected. “In our friends’ houses. Not in the middle of nowhere.”
“I wasn’t going to put this off just because he’s got a stomach bug. It’s supposed to rain all next week.”
Roman swallowed. “And I wasn’t about to let you come to some old abandoned house alone.”
Virgil turned, putting a hand on his chest and grinning. “My hero. Now turn on the camera, I see the house up there.”
Roman squinted, and saw that, in fact, he could make out the shape of some kind of structure ahead. It looked like it was practically part of the forest now, trees grown around it and nearly obscuring the shape in the darkness.
“Welcome to Virgil and Roman’s final moments,” Roman said, turning on the camera slung around his neck, “documented for all those who want to see us torn apart by crazy woods people, or bears, or wolves, or, possibly, ghosts.”
“Very funny,” Virgil said.
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Roman said. “I don’t know, set the scene.”
“Kind of hard to do that when you keep talking, isn’t it?”
Roman stuck his tongue out.
Virgil turned to face the camera. “My name is Virgil, and the lug behind the camera is my friend Roman. Tonight, we’ve got a treat. We’re visiting an abandoned house, deep in the woods.”
Roman silently shook his head, amused at the exaggeration. The nearest major road was only a ten minute walk away.
“Legend says it’s been abandoned since the 50’s—”
“Is Wikipedia where you heard this “legend”?”
“Shut up, Princey. And no, it’s not, actually. Will you let me continue?”
Roman held up his free hand in surrender.
“Legend says it’s been abandoned since the 50’s, but no one had been able to stay in the house for more than a few months at a time even before that. Apparently, there was a murder here decades earlier, and the ghost of that person has haunted the place ever since.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Roman and I are here to get the first solid proof of this ghost, and share its existence with all of you.”
“I’m sure YouTube will love it.”
“I am so glad I can edit out all your dumb comments.”
“You know you love them, Count Woe-laf.”
“You’re going to make me wish I’d waited to come with J, I just know it. Just make sure you’re holding the camera steady.”
Roman smiled innocently, then turned the camera up to focus on the house.
“We’ve just arrived,” Virgil said, “And are about to head inside. Wish us luck.”
“Virge, you know this isn’t live, right?”
“Yes, Roman, I know that,” Virgil said. “Let me put in a little flair, okay?”
“I must be rubbing off on you.”
Virgil ignored this comment and approached the house, peering around the crumbling façade of the dilapidated structure. “It looks like the front door is padlocked, but this window is broken. We can put one of our jackets on the sill and climb in.”
“Wait—whose jacket, Virge?” Roman stepped back, clutching his own protectively.
“Oh, relax,” he said, rolling his eyes as he shrugged off his own jacket.. “Some of us thought better than to bring our favorite jacket on a ghost hunt.”
“If that roof collapses on us, I don’t want cheap plastic all that’s protecting me.”
“I’m pretty sure a jacket won’t save you if the roof collapses; but go off, I guess.”
“Thank you; I will.”
Virgil laid his jacket over the window sill and hopped inside. Roman climbed in after him, turning on his own smaller flashlight and looking around warily.
Dust motes hung in the air, which smelled of mildew. A few pieces of furniture remained in the house, each covered in a sheet that might have once been white. The space had not been spared from the elements. Weeds even grew between some of the rotting floor boards.
“I know this is where I’d want to live, if I were a ghost,” Roman commented dryly, eyeing a grimy puddle that had collected in a fold of one of the sheets.
“Ghosts are tied to places where they died, or to objects that were important to them. Or their body. Odds are, this ghost has no choice but to live here.”
Roman sighed. “Okay, anyway. How are we proving there’s a ghost here?”
Virgil slung off his backpack and pulled out a wooden board. “We’ll start with this. It’s a Ouija board.”
“A Ouija board?”
“Yeah. It channels spiritual energy and lets them talk to us.”
“I know what a Ouija board is,” Roman sighed. “I was just… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you brought one.”
Virgil sat down on the floor, beginning to set up the board. “Set up the tripod, so it can see both of us and the board. You sit across from me.”
Roman did as Virgil asked, then sat across from him. Each perched his fingertips atop the small, triangular piece of wood with a hole in it, which Virgil said was called a planchette. They slowly brought the planchette around in a circle, with Virgil narrating what they were doing and why, probably for the less supernatural-versed Youtube fans. Then Virgil said some mumbo-jumbo words about positive energy and communication, whatever; and then they finally they got to the questions.
“Is there a spirit with us in this house?”
There was a long pause, long enough that Roman started to think that maybe Logan had the right idea, before the planchette slid over to Yes.
That was you, wasn’t it, Virgil?
Virgil was trying to hide a grin. “How many spirits are here with us?”
1.
“What’s your name?”
The planchette slid over to B.
“Brandon? Bethany? Bella? Benjamin?”
U.
“…Buford? Bucky?”
T.
Virgil frowned. “Butler?”
T.
Roman bit his lip to keep from laughing.
S.
“Roman, stop messing with the planchette,” Virgil snapped.
Roman made an indignant noise. “I didn’t!”
“Spirit, I apologize for my friend. What is your name?”
B-U-T-T-H-O-L-E.
“Maybe it doesn’t want to tell us,” Roman said, shrugging and trying not to laugh.
Virgil was starting to look exasperated.
“Maybe it’s a kid. How old are you?” he asked.
6.
“You’re six years old?” Virgil’s mouth opened. “That’s so y…”
The planchette moved again, interrupting him.
9.
“69,” Virgil repeated. “Okay, maybe not a kid.” He glanced at Roman, looking suspicious, as if wondering whether he’d changed the results again. Roman pouted at him in response.
“How did you die?”
“Wow, that’s pretty personal, isn’t it?” Roman asked. “Ask it how it’s doing, at least.”
Virgil sighed. “They don’t usually stick around for long, Roman.” Then seemingly deciding to humor him, he asked, “Spirit, how are you?”
Yes.
“Well, that’s… an answer,” Roman said. Maybe the Ouija board was broken or something.
“How did you die?” Virgil asked, repeating his earlier question.
The planchette hovered for a few seconds.
K-N-I-V-E-S.
Roman swallowed.
“Oh.” Virgil shifted. “What year did that happen?”
4-2-0.
“Roman, seriously, stop.”
“I swear, it’s not me.”
“Fine, then let’s try again. What year did you die?”
D-E-A-D.
“Yes, you died,” Virgil said. “Do you remember what year that happened?”
Y-O-U A-R-E D-E-A-D.
Roman’s eyes widened. Virgil wouldn’t have done that, would he? “Um, Virge? I think maybe we should leave.”
“Are… are you a good spirit?” Virgil asked, his voice uncertain.
No.
The lights above flared into life, far, far too bright, like small suns. They shouldn’t have worked, even if they were still connected to power, or had the bulbs replaced in the past decade. Wind rushed through the room from an invisible source, the temperature dropping.
POP!
The light above them burst, sending sparks falling around them. The rest of the lights followed in rapid succession. The tripod fell over as if pushed, crashing to the ground between the pair and sending up a cloud of dust.
Roman and Virgil screamed, scrambling for the exit, pushing each other through the window, back into the woods. They raced back towards the car, both the camera and Virgil’s jacket forgotten.
Hysterical, cackling laughter followed them through the trees.
#sanders sides#thomas sanders#roman sanders#virgil sanders#remus sanders#ts sides#ts roman#ts virgil#ts remus#ts fanfic#ts fic#fanfiction#sanders sides fan fiction#just your average ghost hunt fic
268 notes
·
View notes
Text
Racism in Education
June 27, 2020
Day 6 of 7
[ These are just some thoughts I have in my head about this topic, it isn’t meant to be a purely academic discussion. It’s meant to be a conversation to learn about another perspective. ]
—-
Ok this will be my most challenging post. This is a long read but I’d appreciate you reading it all because I’ve been doing free emotional labor for almost a month and if you want to be an ally, that means learning from other perspectives. So please read. This drained me so much to write, please make it worth it.
You have the time, please read.
As I stated in my intro, I moved from a very conservative State (I don’t even want to say the State because I hate it so much.) to Washington State. I moved after graduating online school a year ago.
Growing up in that State I was almost always the only Black girl in my class. For my whole educational career. I hated when we would discuss the civil rights movement because I could feel my White peers staring at me, like I was the face of my race.
It was junior year that broke me.
I began the year optimistic. I always did, even though I had experienced racism before each year, pushing me to move to 4 different schools in 4 years.
I moved to a school in a rural area with a lot of mormons and maybe 5 Black people in the whole, huge school.
It was in September that my mental health plummeted. I don’t know why. I guess I was overwhelmed. I was in an AP US History class and there was work over the summer that everyone else did, but I didn’t. I had just gotten there, after all. I didn’t have the textbook. That class was such a heavy workload that we were having a quiz every other day, 1 test a week, and I was trying to study for a test that my peers had months to study for, and already took.
I attempted to take my life, but I knew I didn’t really mean it. I’ll be honest about that. I just wanted everything to stop so I could catch my breath.
I went to the ER on a Thursday night. My Mom drove me.
We sat in the ER for a little bit and then I was taken to a little room where a nurse came to talk to me. BTW I have never had a good interaction with a nurse.
This nurse came in and basically shamed me.
“You’re so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”
Yeah, no shit. I thought about that every day. My grades, getting into college, getting into law school.... that’s the point. I was overwhelmed.
She suggested that I punch a pillow if I “Got upset” because that’s what her daughter does.
Fuck off.
The Doctor came in and he gave me butterfly bandages and he was so much more understanding, shockingly. (I’ve shadowed Surgeons and Doctors and they can be a little abrasive).
I liked that the Doctor fixed me up. I liked having this wrap around my wrist. I felt like I could move on. Like I let something out.
The Doctor asked if I needed to stay at this place that dealt with cases like mine.
I said,
“No.”
I couldn’t have that on my record for what I want to do. So, I went home.
I took the Friday off and my Mom visited the school to let them know what happened. I was already preparing for pity.
I had to come in on Monday to set up a 504 (students with disabilities act) for depression. I don’t think I had depression, but whatever. I dropped out of AP US History.
They made accommodations for me: more time on tests, working in the library, more time on assignments, etc.
I want you to know that I did not touch those accommodations for 5 months.
I knew I didn’t need them. I maintained a 3.8 GPA.
I sat in a room with all 8 of my teachers (we had a block schedule 4 classes per day alternating), seeing all of them look at me with disgusting levels of pity.
They each talked to me in private saying things like,
“If you ever need anything, let me know.”
“I’m here for you.”
“You matter.”
I thought,
“Hm ok, that’s nice.”.
I went on for months without using my accommodations and practically wooping my “normal” classmates in intellectual discussions.
But then the casual racism I experienced was escalating.
First, in the beginning of the year, my AP US History teacher put his hand on my head and said to a student,
“If you really believe that, Faith would be a slave right now.”
(I don’t remember what the hell we were even talking about)
Then I got little questions/comments like,
“Why do you dress White?”
“Cracker is just as offensive as the n-word”
But now we were going into Black History Month. My new history teacher was an old White Man and we were talking about the civil rights movement, while in English we were reading “Black Like Me” with my blonde, Female, millennial teacher.
I nailed everything in the civil rights movement discussions. The teacher loved me. I nailed the conversations about “Black Like Me”.
But....I don’t know. The environment got really toxic. There was more racism, gaslighting, slurs. Every. single. day. It could break anyone.
I would be on the brink of tears in class every day.
Guess who didn’t notice?
All 8 of those concerned teachers.
They don’t give a shit.
My grades were still pretty good, but I started working in the library. I couldn't be around all of those racist peers.
While in the library, my counselor would come in and interrogate me.
“How long have you been in here?”
“Have you tried, really tried to go to class?”
Of course I tried! I felt like I wanted to be dead and so I left. That’s what the 504 Plan was for. Again, I hadn’t touched my accommodations for months so I thought maybe these grown adults would use their tiny brains and think,
“Huh maybe she needs help.”
But no.
I would go to the counselor almost every day and say
“I’m not doing well.”
And she’d ask,
“What does that mean?”
Ok...so I have to tell this Woman that I feel like dying but not at my own hand? Because she can’t use social cues and read my face stained with tears?
I couldn’t say anything.
She said,
“What can we do to keep you going here?”
I said,
“I don’t know”
Because that’s not my job.
Then it happened.
My history teacher was talking about affirmative action.
He said,
“If I worked at a bank for 30 years and went to work at another bank, FAITH would get a job over me because she’s a BLACK WOMAN. Do you get that? She covers TWO minorities!”
He said this while pointing his wrinkled finger in my face.
None of my peers said anything.
I replied with,
“Well, what are my qualifications?”
He ignored me.
He went on a rant teaching his opinions, not facts. So I wrote down what he said on sticky notes.
I called my Mom at break and asked her
“Is that racist? Do I do anything?”
I was so desensitized to racism I couldn’t tell anymore.
My White Mom, my awesome Mom said,
“YES.”
I went to the Vice Principal and reported the teacher and gave her the sticky notes.
The next day we got an email from the principle saying that the teacher said, he never said anything about me.
So I was a liar?
To get evidence, I recorded the whole next class. I was scared every minute that he would find out.
He didn’t. And he said more awful things.
I had concrete proof.
We told the Principal and he ignored me. My Mom emailed the superintendent (very high up person in the school district) and oh now he responds?
They basically said,
“We gave him a warning, he won’t do it again.”
Ok so he just will hide his racism now. Just remember, teachers legally aren’t allowed to teach their opinion. The Supreme Court deemed it unconstitutional to teach opinions.
I was still required to go to this racist Man’s class. I still answered every question he posed to the class and he recognized my intelligence.
So WHY?
WHY me?
The whole year he loved having me as a student and then....that?
Moving on to my English class.
We had to do a cultural experience trip and so my acquaintance and I went to the Black History Museum. Because I’m Nigerian-American. I do identify as Black though because everyone assumes it anyways, but I wanted to learn more about the history in my city.
We were required to make presentations talking about the experience we had. I decided to add a little twist.
I made a whole slide in my slideshow dedicated to every racist thing said to me in that class.
The slide was met with laughter because racism is just so funny.
My teacher said nothing.
So I, the student, the minor in the room, had to say,
“I see you laughing but this is why I’m leaving this school. This is serious.”
Nothing from my teacher.
Cut to maybe a week later and I was done. I was sitting in my English class about to burst. My acquaintance asked me,
“Are you doing ok?”
I replied,
“No. Absolutely not.”
A classmate checked in on me, while all my 8 teachers who actually knew about my attempt on my life didn’t.
We went outside and I decided to leave the school that day. Three weeks before summer break. I couldn’t be in either class anymore. I felt my brain rotting from being exposed to the absolute shit that those students/teachers would spew, every day.
I lost my 3.8 GPA
I lost my credits for the semester.
The racist teacher is still working.
I had to go online.
It happened again.
Another racist history teacher.
Wasn’t removed.
I graduated with a lower GPA.
Didn’t apply to my dream school.
I have the trauma seared into my brain. I’m terrified of taking another history class. Terrified.
Ok, that’s it. If you made it this far, thank you. It took me awhile to write this. I hope this gave you another perspective.
--
So.... discussion time.
Let me know what you think here
I’d like to hear from you since I delved into my trauma.
I don’t think I’ll ever tell this story again, it makes me sick and tired. But I’ll answer questions/asks.
If you have a lot of White guilt and wanna do something, you could donate some reparations to my venmo lol:
@faithrebecca1397 (last 4 digits are 4809)
or paypal
http://www.paypal.me/faithrebecca1397
Edit: People are asking me if they can reblog this. YES PLEASE REBLOG. It’s important to let people know that all types of racism are alive and well.
#blm#black lives matter#education#academia#black women matter#discussion#racism#history#mental health
168 notes
·
View notes
Text
pairing: rengoku kyojuro x gn!reader
genre: fluff
a/n: henlo is me again, i’ve never owned cats and it shows i made this into headcanon format, but if you were looking for something feel free to resend a request c: alrighty hope you like it
edit: i know this is a super long time since this ask was actually sent to me?? and i honestly have no excuses to give. i’m really sorry to whoever sent the request: i was just procrastinating and then covid hit and my motivation plunged even lower. i know this is not much, and it’s probably ooc to all hell but i do hope you like it.
so ok, here’s the premise: you just moved out of your old residence, whether it was a flat or a house—you’re outta there! you is gone !
and ur friend or flatmate had a litter of cats and u just couldn't help urself but adopt one. they were just that cute.
so u did.
got that bad boi for free too, what a bargain!
and anyway u love that bastard with all ur heart.
it's just a bastard but she’s your bastard so it's all good.
very adorable dainty catto, and you took her to the vets to get her checked up, vaccinated, dewormed, and all that good stuff to make sure she will have a long and healthy lifespan.
u recall that u need to bring her in within 6 months to get her spayed so that there wouldn’t be an accidental litter. the operation is postponed since rn she’s too small, and ur like.
ok, i'll see u in 6 months.
that was 3 months ago.
now u moved out into a new apartment, with ur precious catto in tow.
after u finished bringing in all your boxes and furnitures and such, you thought to yourself, “hey, why not start this new chapter in life with a good start by acquainting myself with my neighbours”.
and that's exactly what u did: u gathered like, a packet of strawberries, and went over to the flat directly in front of urs while rehearsing what you will say in your head.
as you reached the other side and pressed the doorbell, you wondered who lived behind those doors…
first you’ll introduce yourself by name.
maybe it was a married couple? maybe even with a family?
and after that, you’ll tell them that you just recently moved in.
or perhaps it would be some elderly gentleman or lady?
and then, you will hand the gifts over and express that you hoped that the two of you will get along—something like that.
worst case scenario, the person is some weirdo… you hoped not…
the door finally opens with a click and you begin to recite what you had practiced:
« hey my name is... » your voice tapers off as you fully took in the person greeting you.
your voice disappears, meeting someone you absolutely did not expect. out of all the possibilities, you did not think for a moment that your neighbour would be the handsome young man with piercing golden eyes, lustrous locks of bright yellow hair, and an even brighter smile, standing before you.
were you staring? you were staring weren’t you? you realised in embarrassment that you were staring at the man, who was probably confused to all hell as to why you appeared on his front doors.
fighting your urge to combust and run away, you introduced yourself following the script you made up (though with more stutters than originally intended) and brusquely handed the berries over.
he happily takes your gift, repeating your name, assuring you that he was listening. it’s so stupid, but the way he says your name makes your stomach do flips. « well, welcome! he says enthusiastically. i’m rengoku kyojuro! i hope you enjoy it here! »
and that was that.
you mechanically went back to your flat, face burning and nervousness still clawing at you.
you’d say that you got adjusted to this new life pretty quickly. you seldom visited kyojuro as you were too embarrassed to pop by and chit-chat as often as you would’ve preferred to—dreading the thought of crossing him on your way to your own flat whenever you went home—but otherwise everything had been good.
alas, your cat was now 5 months old and oh boy.
something tells you your cat was entering its heat cycle or something—you were a first time cat-owner, but you had an inkling.
if your cat’s sudden affectionate, or over-affectionate, streak and unexpected attention seeking behaviour was anything to go by. she would roll on the floor, rub herself all over you and leave fluff all over your clothes, and yells.
she screm!
most stressful of all was how she absolutely wanted to escape to the outside, but you were not having it. you did not want kittens. one cat is enough thank you.
but nope, your wishes were in vain as one day, she just fucking disappeared—god knows where she is , she’s just somewhere.
understandably, you lost your shit and panicked because holy hell your cat escaped!!!
you went around to look for her, with no luck, and you were absolutely heartbroken.
that was until like??? 2 months later and you went to open a drawer to get some socks and lo and behold!
A CAT
and not just any cat! your cat! AND NOT JUST YOUR CAT! but also a bunch of other smaller cats, also known as kittens!
at this point, you weren’t even upset at the thought that you fucked up and ended up having kittens—you were just happy your cat is back and alive and well and back home. who knows how she entered back into the house.
who cares??
your cat is back!!
you’ll just have to spay her once she’s done nursing.
but as you watched over the litter, which looked like your cat but also another cat, you began to see a resemblance between their orange fur and caprisun, kyojuro’s ginger maine coon!!
and now everything makes sense…
body working on autopilot, both because of how tired you were after watching over the cats and also because you were still dissociating from the realisation, you stiffly made your way to your neighbour and ringed the doorbell… ignoring the fact that this was now 2 in the morning.
you had to tell him, or confirm or do something with this new knowledge. his sleep can wait.
surprisingly, he answered the door without you having to ring him a second time. unsurprisingly, he looked tired and was ???? at you summoning him at such an odd time in the evening.
« i know that we don’t really talk, you started. but i need to show you something: i think your cat might have gotten my cat pregnant?? »
that caught the blond’s attention enough to wash the grogginess away from his face, and he followed you back to your flat.
normally the idea that a stranger, a good looking stranger no less, was going into your flat would fluster you, but right now you were a man with a plan, you had something to do and that was to show kyojuro the litter of cats.
he was surprised when he saw them, but confirmed that you were probably right, and that his male cat had probably gotten to your cat during her disappearance.
at this point you were a little bit (a lot) overwhelmed by the responsibility that came along with being a parent (and a grandparent), so you were about to ask him to help you coparent for the little buggers.
but he suggested it before you had the chance to, taking initiative:
« then! he expressed emphatically. we must raise this little kitty family together! kyojuro declared. »
and thus began your misadventures together as cat parents.
even though you both had work and a multitude of other things to do during the day (kyojuro still has his own cat to take care of, for that matter), you made it work—perhaps through sheer stubbornness and desire to make things right.
if anything, this whole ordeal cemented the fact that you were officially put off from having real children: if taking care of kittens was this demanding, imagine a whole actual human baby.
no way, no thanks.
you’re good.
hard pass.
funnily enough, after taking turns to take care of the cats and after the shifts to watch over them, you two had become fast friends. despite your reluctance with meeting him again after your disastrous greeting, you found yourself being very comfortable being in his presence and getting used to having him over in your flat (for the cats, of course).
but you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy spending time with kyojuro, conversing with him and learning more about each other as you both opened up to one another.
it was when he beamed at a joke you made, wearing his signature exuberant smile and laughing a laugh that you found so adorable, that you realised that you were in too deep. that you were definitely catching feels.
sometimes, you wished that you two would’ve been more than just friends. you wince at the thought that the two of you drift apart after this whole mess was over. but you pushed that inevitability away from your mind.
for the most part, nothing noteworthy ever happened as you took care of the kittens as the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm.
one day, while you were both taking care of the cats, his exhaustion got the best of him and kyojuro fell asleep. you found him dozing off on the couch when you walked in, and you had to stop for a moment and tiptoe in the piece because of how peaceful he looked as he was resting. it was incredible how impeccable he looked, awake or asleep.
secretly, you took a picture, capturing this moment forever. he looks adorable. you’ll probably show the image later and tell him that he can take it easy for a while seeing as he was worn out and that you just received a few days off.
speaking of sleeping on duty, you’ve caught yourself passing out once or twice (ok a few times, more than just once or twice), but the weirdest part of all was that you would always wake up on your bed instead of wherever you fell asleep.
butterflies would go feral in ur stomach at the implication that kyojuro had been carrying your sleeping form to your bedroom.
but that was what has been happening right?
you think that at some point, you had fallen asleep on kyojuro… but to save yourself from the embarrassment, you chalk that up to your imagination running wild or a dream.
a few months into this ordeal, he pulled you over to another room to talk privately to you (ignoring the fact that there wasn’t anyone else in your apartment except for the cats).
he seemed to carry himself with a hesitance or shyness that was never there, and you found yourself dreading what he was about to tell you. what kind of bomb was he about to drop on you?
before starting, he paused for a moment, resolute… or was that a look of determination in his eyes? you didn’t know what to expect and it made you worried.
« i have something i need to tell you, convey to you! he started, confidence not lost in his voice. there is a burning passion in my heart, and it was about time that i listened to it! i know we’ve only met just recently, but after our time together i realised that i have feelings for you! he uttered your name again, with such gentleness and softness that it made your heart tighten. i like you! »
« i like you too!! you responded quickly, too quickly. you winced at how loud you unintentionally were, but he didn't seem to pay attention. »
instead, a radiant smile graced his features as he realised that you shared the same sentiment. and the same smile spread on your face, happy that he returned your feelings.
slowly, he moved closer to you and like a magnet, you mirrored him.
perhaps a bit hesitant, you could feel the ghost of a kiss over your lips as he leaned towards you, inching ever closer to each other.
but as your lips were about to connect, you hear crying from the other room…
the cats!
you two jerked away from each other, alerted by the sound, before looking back at each other, dumbfounded.
after what felt like an eternity but also an instant, a chuckle escaped you as you began to laugh uncontrollably—overwhelmed by giddiness and the sheer absurdity of this entire situation—and the blond followed suit, laughing along with you.
as you calmed down, your eyes found each other and the two of you just smiled.
the both of you wore brilliant smiles, and you were floored by the tenderness he held for you.
you look like a mess.
and he looks like a mess.
and you're both tired beyond belief.
but you’re both really happy.
and really happy to have each other.
(and your cats of course).
you’ll have to thank your cat later for helping you meet this wonderful person.
LIKE MY WORK? CONSIDER BUYING ME A COFFEE // CHECKING OUT MY MASTERLIST | LINKS CAN BE FOUND ON MY DESC
#Kimetsu no Yaiba#demon slayer#rengoku kyoujurou#rengoku kyojuro x reader#kny rengoku#kyojurou x reader#kny kyojuro#falselywrites#fluff#headcanon#cats#domestic fluff
114 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi my love i’m hope not too late but i would like you to tell me about my loves jewish cake, anything you want to but specifically baker calum 🥰 thank you i love you
of course you aren’t too late!!! ESPECIALLY to talk about jewish cake oh my goodness meg i shall die for you i love you. alright let’s see what i can dig up
ha’ahava hazot shelanu + it’s so simple
a cut, per usual
so let’s start WITH:
ha’ahava hazot shelanu
jewish cake was a labor of love for myself. little known fact about me is that i am in fact jewish! :) and around christmas time i always get a little prickly about the surplus of christmas spirit and in this case the amount of fic for it. and i’d sort of had this hesitant idea to write a jewish fic in the back of my mind for a long time, but it felt like a really big divergence from the Cast of Characters that was for some reason a lot more dramatic than any other circumstances into which i could place them, so i’d basically been hesitating for several months. in november we had a brief conversation about it in the club which looked like this
but the idea still made me a little nervous and so i kind of talked myself out of writing it, as always. and THEN, middle of december, iba sent me this 1d fic out of nowhere with this accompanying message:
and i kinda lowkey almost cried!! it was such a jewish fic. i read the word kvetch and i almost lost it. the fic was just so unabashedly jewish. and i was like...well. that’s what ive been wanting to do. so now i have no reason not to do it.
in the ao3 notes i talked a little bit about my internal debate over How Jewish To Go with the fic because on the one hand i really do understand that it can feel alienating going into a fic with zero understanding of the culture but on the other hand since it was MY fic i wanted to make it jewish the way i’m jewish. which is like...............very. i don’t think i ended up striking a balance so much as just deciding to say fuck it and write it the way i would want to read it, but i definitely think that was the right decision for me.
there was actually one more motivator for writing this fic, especially the WAY i wrote it, in eight chapters, and that motivator was that i wanted to break 400k on ao3 before the year ended. i just wanted to have an even number and 400k was a good goal. which i did achieve thanks to jewish cake fic being the 13.6k beast that she is! so that was also part of it
NOW! as for the PROCESS. i created the doc on december 22 and i originally kind of thought it was a little bitchy to write a hanukkah fic after hanukkah had already ended but was reminded that most christmas fic is neither written nor posted on actual christmas which reassured me well enough. i had already had the idea to divide it into eight chapters for the eight nights of hanukkah and i thought that would be a nice way to showcase different aspects of the holiday (seeing family, playing dreidel, opening presents etc) and also in certain cases (like the third chapter where they do some baking) some days that weren’t necessarily hanukkah-driven but just a nice natural consequence of being on break for hanukkah. i wanted it to feel like hanukkah feels to me!! normally i don’t like people seeing the way my outlines look but this one i don’t mind sharing so here’s what i had at the top of the doc for reference while i was writing. not everything in that first list got included but most of it did !!!
i’m not really sure how this fic ended up being cake. i never used to default to cake but for some reason as i was diving into this one it just felt right. that’s all i can say about that. meg you have genuinely shifted my approach to fic i DO default to cake sometimes now and that’s on YOU.
the very first thing i ever wrote down for this fic was this part that ended up going in the summary:
“Happy Hanukkah,” Calum says, smiling at Luke as their fingers intertwine.
Luke murmurs, “Chag sameach, ahovi,” and Calum’s face is aglow in the candlelight.
that was The Moment for me. i didn’t even write the rest of that scene until later but i had those two lines written down straight out the gate and i knew they were gonna close out the first scene because it just Felt Right. and i was right! very cool and fun for me
now the nice convenient thing about having this fic separated into eight discrete scenes/nights/chapters was that i didn’t have to write it in order, and i didn’t. i DID write the first night/chapter first, but then over the course of maybe a week, i wrote (deep breath get ready): the first half of chapter 2 (hemmings family) > the beginning of chapter 5 (the dreidel game) > most of the scene in chapter 7 > the beginning of chapter 3 (where they bake) > finished writing chapters 2 & 3 > started chapter 4 and finished chapter 5 > finished chapter 4 and wrote the rest of chapter 7 > all of chapter 6 > all of chapter 8 aka the proposal. i deliberately saved the proposal for last because i don’t think i could have written it exactly right without knowing the events that came before it but everything else was all over the place as you can see.
a problem i ran into a lot, and i talked to my sounding board and fellow jew sam about this among many other things, was that i had a lot of trouble characterizing very obviously Not Jewish people in a way that made them Very Jewish. not even like, Jewish But You Can Ignore It. i wanted them to be front-and-center jewish like i am and that was hard for me to navigate because obviously my speech patterns and vocabulary as an american jew are extremely different from 5sos’s as australian goyim (non-jews) like i do use hebrew words in my day-to-day communication all the time and i somehow had to keep their mannerisms but also insert mine BUT not insert so many of mine that the fic became incomprehensible and it was just. a Challenge. here’s some insight into THAT crisis
and then again writing the other characters in other chapters
i sent sam the doc when i was mostly done writing it, mainly just to be reminded that at least one person was going to appreciate this fic, which worked out nicely because she very very much did. genuinely i cannot stress enough how insecure i was to write and share this fic. like i’m gonna be really straight up with you meg, i think part of the reason i had calum and luke baking sufganiyot was because to me that felt like a sort of bribe? i basically wrote what felt to me like the least appealing fic ever and then my mission from there was to add stuff in that would convince people to give it a shot anyway. i was trying to make it worth everyone’s while. the baking was my trade-off, i was like “well yeah it’s a jewish fic but maybe she’ll be happy enough that it’s cake and they’re baking that she’ll forgive it for being a jewish fic” yes i realize how kind of hilariously tragic this sounds but !!! you never get jewish fics!!! and you especially don’t get them in fanfiction for obviously non-jewish bands!!! anyway. we’re not gonna get into this whole thing but like. even though objectively i knew that i had been told again and again people would appreciate the fic i still had doubts and knowing something and feeling secure in it are very different things.
also, i didn’t remember this, but apparently i had a lot of problems with writing the proposal! here’s a sneak peek into that mental breakdown
don’t actually think the fic specifies (making life easier for myself) but they have already had dinner in that scene. so now you know.
i could choose to not get this elbows-deep in the details of Crises I Had While Writing This Fic but instead i am choosing to go all out. here’s another thing i had trouble with:
(i did end up using transliteration obviously but i DO think actual hebrew would have been a cool flex)
and as for the title, ha’ahava hazot shelanu is the name of an ivri lider song that i love, and it translates to “this love of ours” and i realize titling the fic in hebrew was a Choice but i did talk to sam about this as well and that went roughly like this
by the way here is the song, i absolutely love it and i cannot recommend it enough. also i’m not sure how glaringly obvious this is but the chapter titles on ao3 are just hebrew numbers. like the first chapter is echad which literally means one. and so on. are they the correct genders? i don’t know ! fuck gendered language.
one more thing and then ill move on but an unfortunate natural consequence of writing a hanukkah fic (at least the way i wrote this one) is that it necessitates presents. so i had to come up with presents for these dumb boys to give each other. and to be completely honest with you i don’t remember how i did!!! the ones calum got for luke were trickier because they were actual things. for some reason this luke was always a version of luke that just kinda like, wore makeup, so that was just a question of figuring out an eyeshadow palette that would be Nice but not obscenely schmancy (i did ask the club for help since i know nothing about makeup but as usual i ignored their replies). but that by itself didn’t feel like enough of a gift, and so i tried to think of something that would be more than just the gift of an object. like, something that would maybe enable luke to spend more time on something he loves. piano music made sense to me because it wasn’t just a thing by itself it was a thing that encouraged luke to play piano and even to improve at it and to learn songs that he could be excited about. so! that was that
the trip to israel gift was a little bit of a retcon situation i really liked the idea that luke had been planning to give that “gift” to calum for a hot sec that he’d have had it ready, but i’d already written the scene where he and mali talk about israel, so i went back to it and edited it a little to hint at the idea (luke plays it off very casually because he is a clever boy) but i thought there was something very romantic in the idea of the israel trip, of luke planning a future with calum and a trip to a place that means so much to him (to me yes maybe luke and i are the same blah blah) and getting to drag calum around to falafel places and teach him words in hebrew and it just seemed like the appropriate trip for these two cute jewish boys to plan so i rolled with it.
okay moving on slightly!! to baker calum <3 baker calum was more of a cameo in the hanukkah fic, in the chapter i wrote with you in mind, but i can talk about it’s so simple here as well because i fucking adore that fic.
it’s so simple
so the inspiration behind the fic came from the “kitchens are for lovers” rhetoric and the realization that that would be the perfect...sort of thesis to build on for a fic for you in specific, because you are, in my mind, a very kitchen-based person, given your baking habit. it actually just worked out pretty nicely for me honestly because i’ve been wanting to write a big Kitchen Romance type fic for a while and you just gave me the perfect opportunity. here’s what i had at the top of the doc for the fic for you
and then once i sort of landed on the idea for the fic, it just made a lot of sense to make it jewish cake because, well, im gonna be real w you, because i identify very strongly with jewish cake and the kitchen-romance aspect felt like a very bella thing in the same way that jewish cake felt like a bella thing. and so i wanted to be able to romanticize these kitchens to share the way that i, bella, feel about them, and that was easy to do when the characters were so similar to me. not to mention this cake already existed in my head as a very settled, domestic duo, and they had their own home and had already had a kitchen-romance scene in the hanukkah fic and the whole thing just fell together perfectly. i had this sentence in my head and it was: “Shabbat in Luke and Calum’s kitchen looks something like this.” the kind of thing you would read in a fic summary right? and especially having it take place on shabbat felt like an extra layer of domestic easy romance to me so that was kind of my guide
here was my "outline” for this:
Romance :)))
obviously calum was going to be the one doing most of the cooking/baking because he had been established as the Kitchen Boy between the two of them and maybe i realized in the course of writing it that while i was luke, you were very much calum. so the goal was then basically to romanticize (1) the kitchen and (2) luke as much as humanly possible for you (see: message sent to helen and ainslee)
unfortunately i was unable to do baker calum justice as much as i would have liked because i could not have him baking anything complex because i can’t bake anything complex and if i had tried to describe him baking something complex and then described it wrong i would have died of shame so that is why he is only baking brownies BUT they have chocolate chips which hopefully makes up for it. also i just stumbled across this which i think pretty well represents the crisis i had regarding baker calum
:)))
re: the soundtrack (so to speak), i wanted to include some songs that i associate with you meg but you see the situation is that some of those songs are 5sos/mali/atl songs and so i couldn’t include those, for obvious reasons, which did narrow down my choices somewhat. fortunately i think the mcfly worked pretty nicely i mean yeah it’s a little obvious that i was forcing mcfly into the story but they deserved to be there. i think i’ve mentioned this but i genuinely have a memory of listening to star girl on a loop in my kitchen at home and in my head the hood-hemmings kitchen looks like my kitchen because i have zero imagination so it felt to me like these songs just belonged in kitchens. and that they’d be inherently romantic. woah i think my brain is short-circuiting i’m not sure i’m making sense anymore. point being i hoped that you would appreciate it nonetheless.
a note about the short introduction, because it’s very unlike anything i’ve put in any other fic to my knowledge. i kind of wanted it to feel like the prologue to a fairytale, almost. i wanted it to feel like the beginning of a movie, when the camera is slowly, slowly zooming in from a Big Picture down to one house on one street and then through the window into the kitchen while the voiceover is very serenely describing the scene. i wanted it to feel like we were in the kitchen before even calum was and that we were standing against the fourth wall watching the fic unfold. and also, i wanted to make the fic romantic as fuck, from the get-go. there was to be no confusion: this fic was going to romanticize the living daylights out of the hood-hemmings kitchen.
(also you may have noticed that despite having “london” in the list of Meg Things at the top of the doc, the fic never actually specifies that they’re in london. that’s because this fic was really an exercise in “how much can i hint that they’re in london without outright saying it so i don’t establish a canon that i may later regret” which went as far as me asking helen what her kitchen floors and counters are made of. like. if you want it to be in london then hell yeah it’s in london but i didn’t wanna lock myself into that decision just in case so i never actually said it but i hope it kinda felt london-y anyway lmao)
so...............i THINK that’s all i have to say. “all” as if i havent just written an entire dissertation but at least it’s done now. i sure did say a lot! that was a lot!!! but also a very very fun and interesting dive into the ~process~ of writing these jewish cake fics. also, for what it’s worth, the way hanukkah fic was received basically calmed all my fears about writing jewish fic, which was a relief for me. so thank you for loving it, i don’t think you know how much that means to me!!!! i love YOU so very much
#kaleidoscopeminds#ask#answered#christ go off i guess????????#i honestly have Nothing to say in the tags because i said so fucking much in this answer#fgldkhgsdflj#here are some other questions i asked helen the resident london expert:#'you guys don't have saturday morning cartoons do you'#'what do you call french toast' to which i was informed that you (brits) don't HAVE french toast#and then i decided to ignore that information and include it anyway because jewish tradition trumps british absence of food#and french toast is jewish CULTURE#'do you guys say suck-up or is there a different thing you say'#i did NOT like the answer to that one#also 'do you guys have dishwashers'#'do you guys do april fools'#helen litearlly went and took a photograph of her counters so that i could see what they looked like. THATS love baby#the fact that i said i had nothign to say and then i continued to say things anyway#thats pretty on brand for me#meg#director's cut#okay im posting this now. FOR REAL#dunno what happened before that was very unsexy but this time for real
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
I figured since I’m moving back to Tumblr again and this is a FNaF centered blog, I should probably take some time to give an explanation about where I stand following what came out about Scott a little while ago.
I’ll provide a cut to minimize how much space this takes up, but in short: I’m not going to stop posting FNaF content because Scott makes no money off of some Tumblr blog that only posts something once in a blue moon.
Okay so, I’d been following all the mess about Scott as it all was happening, but at the time I had no intention of Tumblr so I never said anything about it here. But I have finally decided to come back and figured something needed to be said before anyone accused me of anything (not so much that I really think that would happen, but I get paranoid sometimes).
I can’t deny the fact that I saw this coming for a while. I’m not sure why, but I’ve always had this strange feeling something like this would come up, which crushes me to say, but oh well.
I’ve hyperfixated on FNaF since late 2015 and I cannot deny how influential the series has been for me since then and I’m not about to completely ignore almost 6 years because Scott supports some seriously scummy people,
I’m going to continue drawing fanart and my own ocs / aus (namely FNaR, which I will give its own dedicated post in the future), and I’ll continue turning to play throughs of the early games for comfort. Why? Because Scott makes no money off of me doing so. And also because I’ve literally dedicated (cumulatively) months of my life to FNaR and I refuse to just drop it.
I haven’t payed for any of the games, and until I can ensure both that no money continues to go to Scott’s pockets and that the next person “in charge of” the series doesn’t hold the same values, I won’t. I do have 3 games installed on my computer currently, but they were free and I’m not about to uninstall them, either.
I refuse to let what Scott has done tamper with my view of the games (kinda like separating the art from the artist, but still acknowledging that I can’t financially support the art because of the artist), and I’ll also be damned if I let anyone make me feel guilty for continuing to enjoy the franchise. Me sitting at my computer and spending hours drawing big robot animals isn’t financially supporting Scott in anyway and so I won’t be stopping any time soon.
If I ever buy FNaF merch again in the future it will have to either be fan made or second hand (which is how I’ve obtained most of my current merch anyway).
If I think of anything to add on to this later I’ll either edit or reblog this with the relevant information, but for now I think this will suffice.
#fnaf#sorry if this is rambly im not good at formatting my thoughts#also hi hello im going to be active here again soon#i do have 3 oc pieces ill be putting out asap so keep an eye out for those if youre interested#also if im being totally honest most of my non fan made merch is pin buttons that i stole from hot topic so theres that#if anyone gets mad at me for still liking fnaf and 'supporting' it the way i always have than thats their problem not mine
0 notes