#anyway we stopped being close around 2016 so yeah whatever

[agathaharknes]

Remembering that one time my childhood bestie turned crush revealed to me that she once kissed a girl at a party whilst drunk, and I have never been able to emotionally recover from that.

[onlydylanobrien]

Dylan O'Brien - NME Magazine Interview

Dylan O’Brien: “I was in this transitional phase – close to a quarter-life crisis”

From YA heartthrob to legitimate leading man – how the 'Maze Runner' star hit his stride after a whirlwind decade

Definitely!” hoots Dylan O’Brien when NME asks if he still has to audition. “I’m not Tom fucking Hanks, bro.” He’s clearly amused by our question, but forgive us for thinking the 29-year-old actor gets cast on reputation alone. A decade into his career, and he’s making an impressive transition from teen TV star and YA franchise hero to charismatic leading man.

New York-born O’Brien cut his teeth on MTV’s hit Teen Wolf series, before landing the lead in the Maze Runner film trilogy based on James Dashner’s hugely popular novels. Leading a band of bright young things that included ex-Skins tearaway Kaya Scodelario, Game Of Thrones’ Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Will Poulter, he honed his craft while racking up nearly a billion dollars at the box office. “My career is a constant acting class,” says O’Brien. “To be able to do the Maze Runner movies simultaneously with Teen Wolf was amazing in terms of getting in reps and working my [acting] muscle.”

Now for the sometimes tricky bit. Many actors struggle with the post-breakout period, but O’Brien is making it look easy so far. This year’s Netflix hit Love and Monsters proved he can carry an old-school family adventure, and new film Flashback (out next week) reveals an appetite for weirder, more cerebral work. He stars as Fred Fitzell, a young man reluctant to buckle down to life as a nine-to-fiver with a boring corporate job and a long-term girlfriend (Mindhunter‘s Hannah Gross). When he runs into a freaky-looking acquaintance from his teenage years, Fred becomes obsessed with finding an old high-school friend he used to drop a mind-bending experimental drug called Mercury with. It’s difficult to say any more without entering spoiler territory, but Flashback is a wild ride underpinned by the idea that we can exist in several realities at once. Even if you follow every plot twist, you might not fully understand the end. “Oh, it’s definitely a headfuck,” O’Brien agrees. “There’s not totally an answer to figure out. There’s a lot of different things that people can take from it.”

Speaking over Zoom from his LA home, O’Brien is bright, thoughtful and really good fun to talk to, especially when he relaxes into the interview, but he clearly knows where his line between public and private lies. When he first read the Flashback script, written by the film’s director Christopher MacBride, his “mind was blown” by just how much he related to Fred. “I felt like I was in this transitional phase of my life that was, you know, sort of close to a quarter-life crisis type thing,” he says. “For whatever reason, it was like me and this script were meant to be. I remember reading it and thinking: ‘I am this guy right now.'”

“There were a lot of things in my personal life that were neglected for a while”

When we ask why O’Brien felt as though he had reached a “transitional phase”, he gives an answer that’s vague but not exactly evasive. For understandable reasons, he doesn’t mention the incredibly traumatic motorcycle accident he sustained while shooting the final Maze Runner film in March 2016. O’Brien suffered severe trauma to the brain and said in 2017 that he underwent extensive facial reconstructive surgery after the accident “broke most of the right side of my face”. Tellingly, he’s never really revealed what happened on set or how it affected him.

Today, O’Brien dances around the details of the accident and other issues he was dealing with at the time, but doesn’t shy away from discussing his inner conflict. “You know, it was a lot of personal things combined with at-a-point-in-my-career things,” he says after a brief pause. He says he’d have been going through some of this stuff anyway, simply because of his age, but it sounds as though success intensified it all. “It was like this whole fucking storm of shit,” he continues. “I was simultaneously so fulfilled and happy about these, like, otherworldly and surreal things that I had experienced in terms of where my career had brought me. I had all this confidence and fulfilment and beautiful people [in my life] – such amazing things to experience at a young age. But at the same time, there were a lot of things in my personal life that were unchecked and sort of neglected for a while.”

O’Brien says that in time, he realised he had to “stop for a second” and “re-explore how I wanted my life to look going forward”. In fairness, you can see why he needed a breather: his career took off while he was still a teenager. After his family moved from New Jersey to Los Angeles County when he was 12, O’Brien contemplated a career as a sports broadcaster – his Twitter bio still bills him as a “no longer suffering Mets fan” – then began posting YouTube videos as moviekidd826. A funny, slickly edited skit titled ‘How to Prepare for the SAT in 45 seconds’, shared when he was just 17, shows he was a born performer and storyteller. YouTube success led to him getting a manager, but his breakthrough role in Teen Wolf still came out of the blue. At the time, he was treading water at a local community college and taking auditions on the side.

Still, he has since taken a rather fatalistic view of this career-making moment. “It’s totally weird because, when I think about it now, I don’t see how it could have happened any other way. I can’t picture myself doing anything else now,” he told Collider in 2011. “It was really sudden and a little random, and not provoked by anything. It was just out of nowhere. It wasn’t my intentional doing.” Today, O’Brien summarises his skyscraper career trajectory succinctly. “I guess I just graduated high school and started acting,” he says. “And then I felt like I was just flying by the seat of my pants and never got a chance to stop.” Thankfully, straight-out-the-blocks Hollywood success hasn’t taken away his sense of perspective. When I say how easy social media makes it to compare yourself unfavourably to others, O’Brien jumps in: “Yeah, that’s very true. I was watching the Billie Eilish doc the other day, and I was like, I’ve done nothing. I’m not an artist at all!”

“No one thought ‘Love and Monsters’ was going to be good!”

O’Brien is also self-deprecating when he talks about being cast in Flashback, suggesting it happened because he had such an intense connection with Fred. “I was honestly like, ‘Who is watching me right now?’ That is the best way I can describe how I was feeling when I came across this script,” he says. “Chris [MacBride, director] and I had this conversation that went so well in terms of [my] understanding this script that I think he’d sent around a lot and [that] very commonly wasn’t understood. I think Chris has even said that the night before shooting, he suddenly had this thought, like, ‘Wait, do I even think he’s a good actor?'”

Though O’Brien has firmly ring-fenced elements of his private life, he’s actually pretty frank about his acting vehicles. He readily admits he was expecting a snobbish response to Love and Monsters, a CGI-heavy hybrid of post-apocalyptic action and romcom that dropped on Netflix in April and topped the streamer’s daily most-watched list. “It means so much that Love and Monsters has gotten the response that it’s gotten,” O’Brien says. “No one thought this movie was going to be good.” His blunt honesty makes me laugh out loud. “No one did though!” he says in response. “And so, fuck that. You know, most of the people who say something to me about the movie, they’re like: ‘I watched Love and Monsters, and it was… good?’ And honestly, that just cracks me up.” For obvious reasons, we hastily decide not to share our response to the film – namely, that it was a whole lot better than expected.

In Love and Monsters, O’Brien plays Joel, a survivor of a so-called “monsterpocalypse” that has bumped humans to the bottom of the food chain. Though he’s known in his colony as a bit of a coward, Joel sets off on a treacherous 80-mile journey to find his high school sweetheart Aimee (Iron Fist‘s Jessica Henwick), which means evading the hungry clutches of various supersize grizzlies including a giant monster-frog hiding in a suburban pond. It’s a simple but pretty out-there premise that wouldn’t work if O’Brien’s performance was even slightly condescending. Instead, his unselfconscious sincerity really sells a film that has as much in common with the family-oriented Robin Williams movie Night at the Museum as darker fare like The Walking Dead.

His obvious affection for the project really comes across during our interview today. “When I read the script, I just thought it was so sweet and funny and smart and unique, but at the same time reminiscent of all these movies that don’t really get made any more,” he says. That’s a fair point: Love and Monsters is neither a fail-safe superhero movie nor a slice of classy Oscar bait. “And when they were talking about how to market this movie, it was so funny hearing all these conversations like, ‘How do we actually get people to watch it?'” he adds. “But that’s a big part of the reason I wanted to do this movie: because it felt like something I missed seeing.”

“I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who want to make something out of love”

So in a way, Love and Monsters was a risk for an actor seeking to establish himself outside of a bankable movie franchise and a hit TV show. O’Brien has only made four films since his final Maze Runner outing in 2018, and insists he hasn’t been tactical with his choices. “I don’t have anyone saying, ‘We need to get you in an Oscar vehicle’, or any of that kind of shit,” he says. “I’m really lucky to be surrounded by people who think like me: that you should do what you’re drawn to, and make something out of love.”

He’s recently finished shooting a mysterious crime thriller called The Outfit in London with Mark Rylance. Directed and co-written by Graham Moore, who won an Oscar for his screenplay to Alan Turing biopic The Imitation Game, O’Brien calls it “quite possibly one of the most special pieces of writing I’ve ever experienced”. He first read the script on a plane and says he “actually stood up and clapped” when he got to the end. Considering O’Brien probably wasn’t flying Ryanair, this reaction presumably attracted a few baffled glances.

Anyway, it must be pretty intimidating walking onto set with Rylance, a multi-award-winning actor revered by his peers – Al Pacino once said he “speaks Shakespeare as if it was written for him the night before” – but it sounds as though O’Brien took it all in stride. He says he’s confident in his abilities, but admits to having a slight wobble whenever he begins a new project. “I’m always sort of re-questioning everything – like, ‘Can I even act?'” he says. “But I think there’s something very natural about that. I think even Rylance could relate to that feeling. Acting is like starting a new year at school every single time.”

At this point in his career, O’Brien has made peace with the fact that some people will have preconceptions about him based on what he’s known for: Maze Runner and Teen Wolf. “People will put you in a box no matter what,” he says. “There was definitely a time when that would get to me, especially when it felt like somebody had a perspective on me that in my soul, I just felt wasn’t accurate.” Still, there’s no doubt he wants to show us what’s really in his soul with more films like Flashback. “If anything,” he adds bullishly, “it just makes me think: ‘Right, I’m really gonna show them now’.”

‘Flashback’ is out on digital platforms from June 4

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 4

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Perma tag: @nathleigh

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

Marinette almost missed Hawkmoth. Sure, she ended up extremely emotionally repressed, but hey! At least her opponent was stupid, at least she never had to fear losing.

But, yeah, that was why she didn’t notice the fact that chloroform was on the floor. That was way too smart for a villain, in her opinion. Wasn’t Joker supposed to be insane or something? Why wasn’t he completely stupid like Hawkmoth had been?

Those were her last thoughts before her vision blacked out.

She blinked her eyes open one time while she was being transported, but… it wasn’t enough. Her head pounded, her limbs felt like lead. She tried to pull one of her arms away from the five goons carrying her around -- she giggled at how much effort they were going through to keep a half-conscious person down -- but it was too weak to even break their grip. She wasn’t going to be getting out of the situation anytime soon.

She rested her head back against the chest of whoever was carrying her head.

Her eyes fluttered shut without her permission.

It took a while for her to be able to open her eyes again, and when she did she was almost tempted to close them. She was tied up with Red Robin, hanging upside down over a vat of acid. Decidedly not a good situation to be in. Maybe she could ignore it for a little longer…?

She buried her face in the neck of Red Robin’s suit, using the cool material as a kind of cold pack to try and soothe her pounding headache.

… wait... Red Robin!

She had a bit of protection because of her mask covering her mouth and nose and miraculous immune system, but he was a human and both his mouth and nose were uncovered! Shit!

Marinette pulled back as much as she could to check his face and see if he was okay and then cursed the domino mask blocking his eyes from her view. What she could see wasn’t good, though: the skin of his face had broken out into hives where he had come into contact with the chloroform. Ouch.

She tried just poking the good parts of his face with her nose to get him to wake up, but clearly that wasn’t working. Alright, new plan.

“Red Robin?” She whispered.

Nothing.

“Red Robin Red Robin Red Red Red Red Red…”

She was pretty sure she was doing this annoying thing right. She didn’t have siblings, how could she know?

Wait wait wait, what was that one thing that his siblings always said to him?

“Reeeeed Robin, yum~.”

Not even that got a response? Damn, he must really be out of it.

Time for drastic measures, then.

She tipped her head back as far back as it could go and then slammed her forehead against his. This evoked a lot of swearing from both parties. Apparently, headbutting people doesn’t help headaches.

When her head stopped ringing as loudly, she peeked her eyes open. “Sorry, checking to see if you were alive.”

He gave about as much of a nod as he could. “It’s… I understand why you had to do it.”

She gave a tentative smile. “Right. Still, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, then glanced down to see what they were working with. He bit his lip anxiously. “Ah, that’s not good,” he said after a few moments of consideration.

She rolled her eyes because, yeah, obviously. She didn’t say that aloud, it wasn’t productive, so she said: “I’m going to squirm. See if you can free your arms a little?”

“Do you think I have some kind of gadget in my gloves for every situation?”

“Don’t you?”

He hesitated. “I mean… yes, I do have something that could help us out of the ropes, but we are kinda over acid right now. How fast is your reaction time?”

She tipped her head from side to side with an awkward smile. “Not great.”

“Then maybe we should just wait for backup --.”

“Do you think they’ll get here before Joker does?”

“... you’re right. Start squirming --.”

“Wow, you two hate me that much? I’m hurt,” a voice cooed.

Marinette jumped out of her skin. She craned her neck to glare at Joker for scaring her…

And immediately regretted it. Why was his face not attached to his skull properly? Did he cut his own face off? Who even does that? Ew.

Red Robin scowled at him. “I can’t say we were all glad to hear you were out.”

“Red Robin...” she warned.

“Wow, not even old Batsy was happy to hear the news?”

“Nope. Didn’t say anything, actually.”

Joker’s smile wavered. “He didn’t?”

“Um, Red,” she tried again.

“Nothing,” he confirmed. “Not. A. Word.”

Joker didn’t seem to know what to do about this information. Batman wasn’t even paying attention to him? What was the point, then?

Marinette was also concerned about what was going on, but for a completely different reason. She leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Why are we trying to anger the psychopath?”

He gave as much of a shrug as he could while tied up. “If he’s talking he’s not trying to kill us.”

“And what if he gets angry enough to kill us?”

“He probably won’t.”

She winced. “Okay, I really don’t like your use of ‘probably’ there --.”

With both of their hands forced behind their backs, the only comfort he could really give was pressing his good cheek to hers. It shouldn’t have worked, but apparently life or death situations mess with your emotions.

“Just… trust me?” He pleaded quietly.

She sucked in a deep breath before turning to glare at Joker, who was still having a crisis over the fact that Batman didn’t care as much as he did. Well, she guessed that she had to take out her headache on someone. Might as well be the bitch in ugly clown makeup.

“You know, I don’t even understand why people are scared of you.”

Joker frowned and turned to look at her. “What?”

“I mean, I get why Poison Ivy is feared, I get why Mr. Freeze is feared… I even get Penguin and Riddler since they both have a high enough intellect to make up for their lack of powers… but you’re just… some guy.”

Joker gave her a cold look. “I could kill you.”

“So could a particularly determined cow, you’re not special.”

Red Robin snickered. She smiled, a little proud of herself for making him laugh.

Their grins were wiped off their faces when the rope holding them up dropped.

It caught them again dangerously close to the acid. Red Robin was a few centimeters from getting a new haircut. Marinette wondered, morbidly, whether her suit would go with her if she disintegrated.

“Not going to kill us, huh?”

“... well, I did say probably,” he mumbled, his face a little red.

She swallowed thickly. “If we live, I’m going to kill you.”

“Fair. Want to mess with him if he’s going to kill us anyways?”

“... yes.” She whipped around to glare at Joker again. “I mean, honestly, why aren’t you dead yet?”

“We don’t kill,” supplied Red Robin.

She grinned. “Sure, and I get that. I’m also not fond of murder... but is every citizen in Gotham just agreeing to not kill him? Does Batman spend all his time making sure that civilians don’t do it? Why hasn’t anyone seen him on the street and just tried to run him over?”

“... I mean, Robin hit him with the Batmobile once.”

“See?” She grinned. “And don’t even get me started on Punchline and your goons, Joker. How did you find so many people loyal to you?”

“I love him!” Said Punchline defensively.

“... sweetie, if you want a pasty white guy with green hair just watch 2016 Jacksepticeye.”

Red Robin nodded. “At least he’s kind of funny sometimes.”

“If you need the guy to be evil, how about the evil alter ego he made… what was he called?”

“Antisepticeye.”

“Ha, you’re a fucking nerd,” Marinette teased.

Red Robin blushed (or maybe that was just the blood slowly rushing to their heads from being upside down for so long) and pointedly ignored her: “Look up Antisepticeye. It’ll probably be healthier for you.”

Punchline didn’t have a retort for that. Marinette was deciding that was because she was considering it, not because she probably didn’t know who Jack/Antisepticeye was.

She pushed on: “And, hey, you goons don’t have to give Punchline over there the glory. Stab your boss. C’mon, it’ll be cool. Doubt he’s paying you more than whatever bounty is on his head, anyways.”

“If you’re going to rally henchmen maybe you shouldn’t call them ‘goons’,” suggested Red Robin.

She pouted. “But ‘goons’ sounds cuter.”

He opened his mouth to retort but she’d never know what he was going to say because, at that moment, Signal and Robin came busting in through the skylight.

~

Tim relaxed when he heard the glass shatter. Whether Marientte’s henchmen rallying had somehow worked or their backup had come, it at least meant that Joker and Punchline were distracted from wanting to murder them.

He struggled to crane his neck to see what was going on.

Oh. Damn. Damian was back from his angsting on the weird murder island? And he was here? Nevermind, he’d prefer Joker and Punchline. Damian was never going to let him live this down.

Speaking of Damian, a weight jumped onto their ropes and the three vigilantes became a pendulum. Tim grit his teeth tightly and Marinette let loose a long string of swears as their headaches worsened.

But, apparently, the world wasn’t done with them. Damian sliced the line at the highest point and they went flying across the room. Tim was the unlucky one on the bottom when they hit the ground, which he doubted was an accident.

Damian left them to deal with things on their own from there. Least he could have done was cut them free with his katana, but Tim supposed that was too much to wish for from the youngest brother.

He rested his head back against the cool floor for a second. He could feel Marinette stretch across his shoulder to do the same. They sighed in relief. This was the closest they had come to treating their headaches and wow was it nice.

But, frankly, resting in the middle of a fight isn’t a great idea. So, they wriggled around on the floor until he was able to flick open the tiny knife in the index finger of his gloves and cut the rope binding them without, y’know, cutting one of them instead.

Freedom! What did they do with this newfound freedom, you may ask? Scratch their heads. Turns out chloroform sucks for many reasons and one of those is that it’s a major skin irritant.

He also vomited. Thank god they’d been freed. He’d been only a few seconds away from throwing up on Marinette. He felt especially bad about that when she peeled a hand from her itching to hold his hair away from his face.

The fight was over soon enough. Duke and Damian came over to watch the two of them attempting to peel their skin off layer by layer.

“Pathetic,” chided Damian.

“Don’t be a dick --.” Marinette cut herself off, her hand flying to her mouth. “I swore in front of a baby.”

“I’m twelve!”

“Exactly: a baby.” She reached out and cupped a very affronted Damian’s face in her hands. “Look, you still have baby fat! You shouldn’t be fighting crime!”

Tim couldn’t tell if she was messing with Damian for being rude to them or if she genuinely saw him as a little kid. He wasn’t going to correct her. She’d remember he was a gremlin soon enough.

Damian wrenched his face from her grip. “If I hadn’t come you two would have been burned in acid.”

“Please, we all know Signal probably could have dealt with this entirely on his own,” Marinette waved him off.

Duke rested a hand over his heart like he was touched.

Tim rolled his eyes and pulled Marinette to him, resting his head on top of hers lazily. “We should get a checkup at the cave. Chloroform has… not nice effects and we both rolled around in it a little while fighting.”

Duke and Damian both winced, but Marinette didn’t seem all that concerned.

“I’ll be fine. My immune system is enhanced by --.”

Duke clapped his hands by her ears as loudly as he could. Neither Marinette nor Tim were particularly happy about it.

“Behold: a headache, one of the main symptoms of chloroform. Your face also has some red streaks, so don’t even try to deny that the chloroform is affecting you.”

“I take back my praise, I’ve decided I hate you,” she murmured, massaging her temples.

“I just remembered that I need the siren on my bike on to tell all the other bats we’ll need them at the cave...”

“Wait, no --.”

~

Marinette glared at Black Bat and Spoiler. The batboys had left the infirmary area for her own comfort and that was nice of them but she would really prefer if she hadn’t had to come at all.

Now she sat in some of Black Bat’s pajamas and one of Spoiler’s spare masks as they inspected her.

Her nose scrunched as Black Bat drew blood from her arm.

“This is dumb. I don’t need this.”

“We’ve been told. Humor us?” Spoiler said and, though Marinette couldn’t see her face from where she was, she knew she was rolling her eyes.

“I would if you were actually funny.”

“I think we can definitely put her down for irritability,” commented Spoiler.

Black Bat nodded and dutifully wrote it down. Traitor.

The cool metal of a stethoscope was pressed to her back and she cringed.

“Deep breaths.”

Marinette complied, however reluctantly. Might as well get all this bullshit over with as soon as possible.

… she was regretting that decision, now, though.

She gave Batman a cold look. “You can’t keep me here.”

“You need to stay so we can monitor your state overnight. You could have asphyxiated.”

“But we didn’t,” complained Red Robin, who looked just as annoyed about this as she was.

“We have lives, B,” she said.

“You weren’t going to do anything other than patrols tonight, don’t act like I’m tearing you away from something important.”

“The protection of the city is important,” Red argued.

“Neither of you would be much help tonight in the state you’re in, anyways.”

Red Robin stuck his lower lip out in a pout. Marinette gave her best puppy-dog eyes.

Batman wasn’t moved. “If you need something, Agent A will provide it.”

She blinked, eyes returning to normal in her confusion. “Who --?”

He disappeared into the shadows before she could finish the conversation, something she was, unfortunately, getting used to.

Marinette scowled at where he had last been.

Maybe she should have expected this, maybe if she had been less out of it she would have. They had given her pajamas when she’d had clothes and insisted on cleaning her old ones ‘for chloroform’. The checkup might have been a genuine checkup on her state, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered what the results were. She was always going to end up staying the night in the cold, dingy cave filled with bats.

She sighed and laid back against the stone floors. She heard Red Robin groan and looked up to see he had been locked out of the Batcomputer for the night. He leaned back in his chair and mumbled curses.

She giggled at his distress and, despite himself, a tiny grin poked at his lips.

“Want to race to see who can hack into it first?” She suggested.

He raised an eyebrow at her under his domino. “Think you can win?”

“Considering I don’t know that much about hacking, I’m going to say probably not.”

A wide smile spread across his face, now, and he waved her over. She took a seat on the desk beside the keyboard and he started teaching her everything.

Most of what he said, while technically heard, wasn’t exactly understood. She couldn’t concentrate. It was the first time she had seen him in anything but his vigilante suit and she decided that that was a crime because he looked so cute in the Batman-themed pajamas. Furthermore, the way his long hair was pushed back by a headband to keep it out of the green paste spread over his face to alleviate the chloroform’s rash reminded her of a spa day in all those movies.

And then there was the smile. It made her heart flutter in her chest because she was so used to his grins but this was just a genuine smile. He looked so passionate about the intricacies of cyber crime. She was almost sad about the domino hiding his eyes because she wanted to see the way they lit up while he explained different ways viruses could be accidentally downloaded to devices.

Basically, she was a mess for this random cute guy she worked with. She had never seen him so casual and at ease and it felt far more intimate than it maybe should.

She rested her head on her hand, nodding along as he talked about data encryption versus decoding.

Well, maybe a forced sleepover in the Batcave wouldn’t be so bad...

~

Tim was suffering a lot more than he would ever admit, and only a small part of it was due to chloroform.

He was going to be having a sleepover with one of his idols and he was going to be spending a large amount of the time trying not to throw up. And she could totally tell, too, why else would she be watching him so intensely? Someone kill him, please. He was so glad he had a secret identity because he didn’t know how he would manage if she thought Tim Drake-Wayne was a loser.

Granted, she was going to think Red Robin was a loser... but at least he had a second chance as Tim.

He rested his chin on the back of his chair. He had hacked into the Batcomputer already but it was a relatively dull night out on patrols and he wasn’t eager to be yelled at for showing Marinette some files on top of already hacking into them when he wasn’t supposed to.

“Wanna do something?”

She grinned. “Is there anything to do here other than train?”

“... nothing approved.”

She tipped her head to the side. “And of the things that aren’t approved?”

He matched her grin. “Well…”

And that was how he ended up setting up a movie projector in the cave so they could watch Groundhog Day. Marinette had taken to making them a pillow fort.

Duke stumbled down the steps, half awake, and raised his eyebrows at them from behind his domino. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that they had made and took a long sip before sending the two of them a wary look. “Do I want to know?”

Marinette didn’t look up from her and Tikki’s base construction. “Dunno. Do you want to watch Groundhog Day with us?”

He frowned. “Isn’t that the one where that guy in a time loop stalks his co-worker until he knows enough to make her fall in love with him?”

“Just say you don’t like romcoms and go,” Marinette irritably.

“I’m fine with romcoms, it’s just… a little messed up that he uses the knowledge he gets from being in a time loop to ensure she falls for him?”

“It’s a story about self-improvement,” Tim said, sending his brother a glare. “He grows as a person until he is worthy of her love.”

“Him learning about her is part of his arc. He starts off selfish and he ends it with a deeper appreciation for other people,” agreed Marinette.

Duke held his free hand up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Enjoy your stalker movie.”

“It’s not a --,” Tim tried to argue, but Duke was already heading back upstairs.

He huffed a little and finished setting up the computer and projector, then took a seat in the pillow fort. She poured each of them a cup of coffee, put a straw in hers to maintain her identity, and then took a seat beside him.

He took it from her with a bright smile and turned on the movie.

She rested her head on his shoulder as the happy-go-lucky music started up.

Unfortunately for them, they didn’t manage to stay awake for all that long. Duke had drugged the coffee pot.

~

Marinette shifted awake a while later and promptly decided that being awake sucked.

Nothing about her current situation sucked, of course. At some point during the night they had fallen asleep and now she was laying half on top of Red Robin, clinging to him like a koala. He didn’t seem all that upset about it, though, with his arm wrapped around her and his face buried in her hair.

Unfortunately, the time on the bottom right of the Batcomputer’s screen told her she didn’t have much time to enjoy it.

She started the slow process of extracting herself from him. Getting the arm off of herself was easy, getting his face away from her head was much harder (this wasn’t helped by the fact that the paste on his face had stuck to her hair).

There was one scare where she thought he was going to wake up. She pushed herself off of his chest and he took a long breath in. Marinette froze, watching his lips tighten… and then he turned over in his sleep.

Oops, apparently she’d been suffocating him a little in her sleep. Sorry, Red.

Well, at least she was free now.

She slipped out of the pillow fort and glanced at the time again.

Even less time to do what she needed. Because that’s how time works.

She sighed and called Tikki over with a tiny wave of her hand, walking over the edge of the railing. She looked down at the abyss that stretched many feet below.

Tikki couldn’t have looked more disapproving if she tried.

“It’s just a little insurance,” Marinette signed.

This didn’t make Tikki any less upset with her, but she hadn’t really expected it to. She signed for her transformation. She tied herself to the railing with her yoyo as a precaution and then hooked her legs around the railing.

And down she went.

She flexed at an awkward angle, flashlight in her mouth, and stuck a tracker to the bottom of the platform.

And, really, she wasn’t intending on using it. Like she said, it was just insurance. They had drawn blood from her earlier and she knew for a fact that it wasn’t necessary for chloroform inhalation. The only reason that made sense for that was that they wanted to check and see if she had inhaled some but they already knew that so… what did they want with her blood?

She was willing to bet it had something to do with her secret identity. And, hey, she didn’t particularly care if they knew her identity, she trusted them, but if it ever got out because of them revealing then who the bats were would be 1) revenge and 2) a good distraction.

“Hey --?”

Thank the kwamis she had tied herself to the railing because she’d been surprised enough to let go of the platform.

“Shit, sorry!” Said Red Robin.

She pulled herself back up onto the platform with his help and then collapsed on the cool stone. She spat the flashlight from her mouth. “Fuuuuuuck, don’t do that again, please.”

“Sorry,” he said again. Then he glanced back at where she had been and, momentarily, his lips pulled into a frown. “I gotta ask: what were you doing?”

“Hm?”

Shitshitshit.

“Oh, I wanted to see if there was anything down there or if it was just for The Aesthetic.”

“Why not just use your yoyo to go down?”

She shuddered. “The flashlight barely did anything. Would you want to go down into that darkness with no clue even how far down it goes?”

He seemed to accept the answer. “It’s an old iron mine. No one uses it anymore, though.”

She nodded her understanding.

She pushed herself back up to a sitting position and looked at him.

“The bats don’t get back for a while and we’re still on lockdown, so… want to do something?”

~

Damian was the first one to get home. Apparently he had broken a leg on patrol. This was fine (well, maybe he shouldn’t have been driving himself, but whatever).

What was not fine was that he had promptly decided to be an asshole.

Tim and Marinette had been playing Minecraft on the Batcomputer and, like all younger brothers, Damian asked to play.

And, like all older brothers, Tim barely looked up from his controller to tell him: “No.”

Damian looked to be on the verge of a meltdown.

Marinette sighed and sent Tim a tired look. “Red, don’t be mean. He’s just a kid. There’s more controllers, we can just give him one.”

“But…” He started. Damian was a terrible partner to play Minecraft with because he never helped out with anything except for the farm.

However, Marinette was looking at him expectantly. Tim bit his lip, considering.

Damian looked between the two of them and a wicked grin spread across his face and oh no.

Damian took a seat next to Marinette and gave her puppy-dog eyes (a real feat, considering the fact that he was wearing a domino and therefore his eyes were invisible). “Miss Ladybug, can’t you please make him let me play?”

Marinette gave Tim a tired look. “Red, c’mon, just for a bit.”

Damian smirked a little but, by the time Marinette turned back around, he had schooled his face back into a pout.

She handed him her controller. “You can have mine. I’ll find another for myself.”

The two watched her leave and Tim sent his younger brother a glare. “I can’t believe you would embarrass yourself this much just to play a game.”

“Anything to annoy you, ‘big bro’.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but then Marinette came back and all he could do was send him a glare behind her back.

Damian retaliated by sitting himself on Marinette’s lap. She looked down, amusement making her eyes crinkle, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge it. Damian smirked and stuck his tongue out at Tim.

That little shit.

And it continued on for hours while the three of them waited for the rest of the bats to come back. Damian would cling to Marinette in some way and he would become the bad guy for glaring at a child. He was seriously considering breaking the No Killing Rule for this kid.

Finally, though, people started coming back and apparently Damian thought it too embarrassing to do such a thing in front of more than just the person he was trying to annoy because he clambered off her lap to play just a little bit away.

Bruce was the last one to come in and he looked at his kids with the patented Batdad Glare because they had managed to drag Steph into playing with them (without much effort) and Cass into watching (with much more effort). Which meant that there were currently five family disappointments. Yay them.

Tim smiled innocently. “What? We got bored. Maybe you should let us out so this doesn’t happen again.”

“I’m keeping you here for your own safety.”

Marinette and Tim both groaned.

“I have work to do.”

“Me, too.”

Bruce didn’t relent because he was a stubborn asshole.

But that was fine. They really hadn’t expected them to. Tim glanced at Marinette and she twirled her index finger against her flat palm, the sign for ‘start’.

One flash and smoke bomb later, the two of them were running as fast as they could to his bike. He grinned as he helped his giggling friend get on and hopped up himself. Arms wrapped around him tightly and her face buried in his back. They tore out of the cave, giggling all the while.

[annakie]

Patchy

A little under two years ago I made this post, a chronicle of Patchy, the outside feral, turned inside kitty who took ten years to learn to love being petted.

Today we got some bad news.

TW for pet illness under the cut.

Patchy’s always been a bit of a puker, usually oh, say, once a month or so she’d have a good puke for no reason.  I’ve had other cats that are pukers so it’s not that surprising.

In the late winter/early spring I started to notice more frequent pukes.

I’d decided around that time that I needed to find healthier food for my cats, with Leela, the oldest turning 16, Fry turning 11, Pemily turning 7 and Patchy turning, I don’t know, 12 or 13.  No way to really know.  They already got decent food, but I did my research and had started looking at Blue Buffalo, American Journey and Dave’s canned food. 

Patchy had been on a mostly canned food diet since she went to the vet back in early 2020 and had a bunch of teeth pulled.  Also, as a note, Patchy’s brief flirtation with hanging out in the rest of the house ended after like a month.  She and Fry fought too much, and eventually he claimed the rest of the house is his.  He also still thinks the master bedroom should be his, but, Patchy defends that territory well if anyone else encroaches. (The door just stays closed most of the time.)  I really wish they could have all gotten along, I loved having Patchy out, but both Fry and Patchy agreed it wasn’t going to work.

The food she’d been on was pretty junk-food-ish though, which she did love and eat. But I wanted everyone on more or less the same diet and the highest quality food I could readily get them.  So I bought a lot of cans of different kinds of food, and kept a list of which ones seemed to be hits and misses. (I still have a dozen cans of the kind nobody liked -- Blue Buffalo Wilderness Salmon -- I’ve been meaning to take to the city shelter).

Around halfway into this experiment I noticed Patchy puking more, so I decided to try to stick with her favorite kinds, which, I thought was helping.

But once I was fully vaccinated this year, it was time to get all the pets to the vet.  I noticed Patchy had still lost some weight, I thought it was due to switching around her food too much earlier, and tried to stick with the things I felt she really liked.

Then, of course, Leela got sick, spent two and a half days in the pet ER and almost died back in April, and then it was like... yeah we’re done being afraid of COVID, we’re done waiting.  It’s time to get them all their checkups.

My regular vet was doing COVID restrictions so no pet owners inside the clinic back then, so they took Patchy (and the others) in without me.  I thought Patchy had lost some weight, but Dr. B. sounded alarmed when he called me with how much lost she’d lost in the last year, about five pounds.  He wanted to do some bloodwork for Patchy, and I said of course go for it.  

He called back, sounding much calmer and was like “her bloodwork couldn’t be more perfect.  Let’s try switching up her food, get her on some sensitive stomach food and let’s see how she’s doing in a couple weeks.”

So two weeks later it did seem like she was doing better, I called Dr. B back and he said to bring her back in a month.

It was my plan to take her back next week when I had some PTO coming.  I admit, later than planned... my last couple of months have been mucn more focused on Leela... who, thankfully, continues to thrive.  But feeling like my time with her is running out, she’s been my main area of concern.

The last few days though, Patchy has really not been eating well.  Sometimes she does OK, sometimes nothing at all.  And then puking every day.  I swapped her back even to a few cans of the Junk Food (Whiskas) I still had laying around.  She’d eat it... and then puke it up.  And also she... stopped sleeping with me.  I thought... well, it’s summer.  It’s probably too hot to cuddle.  But she stopped laying on the bed.  She stopped coming up for pets when I come to bed and hang out for awhile specifically to spend time with her and pet her.  She runs under the bed again when I come into the room.  It’s like we regressed to three or four years ago... just two weeks after our two year anniversary of getting to pet her.

So this afternoon we went to the vet.  Getting her into the carrier sucked.  I tried nice methods, then I had to scare her into the closet by running the vacuum, and then pretty roughly grab her.  I have scratches and a pretty deep bite on my thumb which either maybe hit a nerve or is infected, may have to go to the doctor for it tomorrow. (Yes, washed it thoroughly with soap as soon as I could.)  I also hated betraying her trust that badly, but it’s for her own good.  But it was rough.

Dr B. wasn’t working so I saw one of the other vets.  I liked him. Also COVID restrictions are gone so I got to go inside. But after talking to him for a few minutes, going over her history and what changes I’ve made, he spent a long time rubbing her intestines (Patchy was perfectly behaved, at least.)   Then he looked concerned.  Then he said let’s do an ultrasound.

A few minutes he came back in and showed me her scans. 

Lymphoma.

I was a bit stunned for a second so I missed a bit of the technical speak he said next, but it came down to the best thing we could do is give her some medicine that may buy her more time.  It doesn’t sound like Chemo or Operating is even really an option.  I’m going to call back tomorrow and see if Dr. B or the vet I talked to can talk me through it a little better now that I’ve had a chance to digest.

If I can get Patchy to take the medicine, and if she responds well to it... she may have 3 - 6 months left.

If she won’t take it, or if she doesn’t respond, it’s at this point, a matter of her comfort and quality of life.  So... weeks.  And I’m worried about getting her to take the medicine, especially since she won’t even come let me pet her and we just had a huge trust betrayal today. I don’t know if I could take her spending her last few weeks hating me, especially if the medicine doesn’t work.

The vet also told me that... I didn’t do anything wrong.  And we did the right thing six or so weeks ago by changing her food and seeing if a few other things worked. Especially with how good her blookwork looked.  He barely felt the cancer today, he said six weeks ago Dr. B wouldn’t have been able to feel it at all.  And for this particular type of lymphoma... there’s not a lot to be done, anyway.  That made me feel better, at least.

(As a really dumb side note, after I got her home, I sat down to eat dinner and watch an episode of Star Trek to take my mind off of all of this since I’d been crying since I found out, paid my bill, and drove home, stopping at a drive through so I didn’t have the mental load of cooking.  And I’m in the middle of my rewatch of Enterprise.  I bet any trekkies reading this can guess what episode was next in my rewatch because yep I’m in season two and A NIGHT IN SICKBAY started playing, of course, so obviously I NOPED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT EPISODE.  For the non-Trekkies.... the Captain has a dog on board, an adorable beagle, Porthos.  The dog gets sick and almost dies and spends his night in Sickbay.  He does pull through.  But the ONE episode centered around a beloved pet getting sick and almost dying... and that’s the episode that fate decreed I was supposed to watch tonight. I did not.  I don’t know if I can watch it anytime soon.)

So now for the next few weeks I will spend my time being grateful that Leela is alive and thriving and pray she keeps doing so -- I will continue to give her extra love and care and attention, and also I will need to do the same for Patchy.  I can’t even do it at the same time because Patchy will not come out here, and will not allow Leela in her room. 

I am low-key freaking out that there’s the possibility of the nightmare scenario happening to me again.  In winter 2016, after months of being sick, I woke up on Christmas morning and my 16-year-old cat Jim had died overnight.  It was terrible, and traumatic, and I had to deal with everything all alone because anyone who could support me was... well, it was Christmas morning and my family was all out of town, too.  Posting about it on Tumblr... actually really helped me, since it’s the only place I felt like I could talk about it.

That Christmas was on a Sunday.

Wednesday morning I woke up to hearing my dog, Cebu, moaning in pain.   I rushed him to the vet, but whatever happened overnight, it was too late, maybe there wasn’t anything we ever could have done even if I’d been awake when the puking started.  The vet said the kindest thing we could do was put him to sleep.  And we did.

Also I just, JUST now realized that the vet who helped put Cebu to sleep was the same vet who I saw today about Patchy.

But I lost two of my pets within 3 days of each other.  I was very lucky that my job let us have the week between Christmas and New Years off that year.  I had a few days to pull myself together, and I needed it.  It took months to recover totally, though.  Every once in awhile I think about that week and I still cry, though.  I miss them both so much and they both had deaths that were less than ideal.

I remember thinking then “I have like, five years of reprive.  Leela will be sixteen in five years, and that’s when I have to start to worry again, when I have to be ready to say goodbye again.”

I thought then that even after that I’d have two or three years until Patchy would leave me, and two or three years past that until Fry.  And then five more years with Pemily.

Right now I’m realizing that I will likely lose Patchy, very best case in six months, but possibly before July is over.

I need Leela to keep thriving.  I don’t know how I would handle losing another two so close together again.

Patchy is... she’s the one who chose me.  I chose my other cats.  Fry and Pemily I plucked from the backyard when they were tiny kittens and brought them inside.  They didn’t have a choice.  Leela I adopted from a rescue, she didn’t have a choice.  Patchy chose to stay.  She chose to stick around when she realized I’d feed her.  It took years but she learned to trust, she chose to come inside when it was cold, when it was hot, when it was storming, and when she was pregnant.  She chose me to help raise the last litter of kittens she’d ever had.  (My entire Rescue Kitties tag is full of adventures in finding, raising and usually adopting out strays. Lots and lots of posts about Patchy and her final litter.  Been awhile since I’ve done it, though.)

I used to joke that Patchy was my roommate, not a pet.  She ate, drank, did her business, and kept to herself for a long time.  Don’t get me wrong, she was a very good, quiet, considerate roommate and I loved her.  But it wasn’t until that wonderful day she let me pet her that I felt like she was my pet. 

I loved having her just hanging out living in the house since 2014, but the last two years especially have brought me such joy.  I’ve tried to never take Patchy’s trust in me for granted.  It was EARNED.  Every small step forward was a milestone to be celebrated. I worked for every bit of trust and love Patchy has given me, and have been rewarded.  And it was worth it.  Every minute.  Every long, patient year.

Even now I’m telling myself... without me, she would have died years ago.  Probably violently, or starved, maybe frozen to death.  Getting to die of cancer brought on by older age is not something that most feral cats ever get to do.  Getting to become an inside kitty where she’s loved, and comfortable for the second half of her life was something remarkable, brought on by her wiles and will to survive for so many years, bolstered by the food I left out for her.  She’s had this much time, this much life, this much comfort and love that she would have never had otherwise, and that’s something to be happy about.

I’ve watched dozens of ferals come and go through my neighborhood throughout the years.  I feed them, I work on seeing if I can get them to trust me enough to let me TNR them, but even those that I have, I don’t keep seeing for much longer.  There’s one right now, I jokingly call him Patchy’s Boyfriend.  He still won’t trust me and never has fallen for the trap when I’ve tried.  But he’s there most nights when I feed him around 11.  He’s getting terribly thin despite the quality food I leave out.  I’ll miss him.

But none of them were Patchy.  None of them became what she is to me. None of them survived long enough to adapt and decide to live another life.

Also?  I wouldn’t have Pemily without her.  Pemily is literally Patchy’s Granddaughter and that is one more thing I love Patchy for.

I feel guilty sometimes, both because I don’t spend nearly enough waking hours with her I feel, but I have three others who need me, as well. One who’s time is growing short, as well.  And they don’t get to sleep with me, she does.  What a joy it was all winter when I would wake up and she’d be sleeping on my chest.  I’d get a bit annoyed when she’d sleep with her backside to my face and her tail would tickle my face and wake me up.  I’m a side-sleeper half the night and she hated that it was harder to get comfortable on me that way.  She still doesn’t want to have my hand just stay on her, she wants pets and skirtches, no long-form touching.  That’s ok.  I sleep better with her weight on me.

I don’t know what the next few weeks or months will hold, but at least pet-wise, it’s going to be rough.  I’m going to wrap this up and give these three out here a good pet, then go hope Patchy comes and asks for love, too.  Tomorrow is one more day with all four of them, and for that, I’ll be grateful, for every remaining day.

[haberdashing]

i want you to straighten out my tomorrow (4/?)

The last thing Jon remembers is working into the night in the Archives in early 2016. Now he’s in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, Scotland, with Martin Blackwood as his only companion. Obviously Jon’s missed something along the way here…

Inspired by beloved of jon, though it can be read separately.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

on AO3

“It’s alright, Jon, it- it’s really not as bad as you seem to think-”

Jon closed his eyes as he pressed his hands against his face. “How bad is it, then? How much danger are we in? And we’re just- just sitting around talking, eating breakfast like nothing’s wrong-”

Jon’s voice started to quicken as his speech went on, his breaths quick and shallow. He was panicking, that much was clear, but he also didn’t especially see a reason to stop.

“Well, for one thing, odds are good nothing’s going to happen right this minute, we, we’ve been here for almost two weeks and nothing’s gone after us yet-”

“But something might go after us.” Jon couldn’t bring himself to unbury his head, to go back to looking Martin in the eye just yet. “Like Daisy.”

“Probably not Daisy, honestly. She was a hunter, yeah, but she was on our side. She, er-” Martin let out a strange sound somewhere between a wheeze and a laugh. “She was your friend, I think.”

“She tried to kill me, and now we’re friends?”

“That’s right, yeah. Trust me, it...” Another one of those strange sounds. “It seems odd to me, too. And it took some time.”

If Martin thought it was odd, and he was there, he remembered all of it happening... god, how much deeper did this rabbit hole go?

Jon opened a gap between two of his fingers just wide enough for him to be able to peek out, though he wasn’t sure if Martin noticed as much. “If not Daisy, who?”

“There’s the hunters I mentioned before. They came all the way from America to the Institute to go after you--you specifically, I mean. Actually, come to think of it, both of them come up in statements early enough you might know the names--Trevor Herbert and Julia Montauk ring a bell?”

Jon gave up all pretenses at hiding then, put his hands back down at his side so that he could more effectively stare at Martin in disbelief. “The vampire-hunting tramp and the serial killer’s daughter teamed up in America to become hunters that want to kill me?”

“Oh, you do remember them! That’s about the long and the short of it, yeah. Apparently you stole something from them after they kidnapped you?”

Jon’s mind was swimming again. If this was all a giant puzzle, evidently it had even more pieces than he had initially thought.

“Wait, Trevor Herbert... didn’t he die? I thought you said he died of lung cancer.”

“Oh god, not this again.” Martin muttered under his breath, the sound quiet enough that Jon wasn’t quite sure if he was meant to hear it.

“Again?” Jon repeated.

Martin’s face turned a bright pink. “This came up before once. I thought I’d heard that he’d died, but I must have mistaken, given that the guy’s still around... and, you know, out to kill you.”

Jon sighed, tempted to get in a dig about how Martin couldn’t even manage such basic research but instead only voicing a frustrated, “Great.”

“Though upside is, at least this time you’re not using that mistake as a reason to accuse me of murder.” Martin paused for a moment, and when he spoke up again, his words were softer, his voice subtly shaking. “You’re not accusing me of murder now, right?”

Jon nodded silently. He wasn’t sure how much he could trust Martin right now, whether his ramblings were haphazard lies or just flawed attempts at explaining a complicated truth, but even if he let his paranoia run wild, murder wasn’t on the list of misdeeds he could imagine of Martin at the moment.

“That’s... good. Certainly better than the alternative, anyway.” Martin let out a short bark of a laugh.

“Why did I think you killed someone, anyway?”

“Good question.” Martin laughed again, but there was no humor to the sound this time. “After I found Gertrude’s body, we weren’t sure who killed her, and you got all paranoid thinking someone you worked with was the killer, and that they’d be after you next. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, I guess, since Sasha’d just... gotten replaced.”

“Is that, that Not-Sasha thing the thing that killed Gertrude too, then?”

Martin shook his head, and Jon was struck by the sight of his wild red hair moving to and fro, how his streak of white strands mingled with the rest as it fell around his face. “No, that was... now, this might sound a bit crazy-”

“Because the rest of it hasn’t already.” Jon muttered in a low voice, more for his own benefit than for Martin’s.

Jon wasn’t sure whether Martin could make out what he had said, but he was greeted with a weary stare just the same. “-but I promise it’s true--Elias killed Gertrude.”

“Elias?” Jon furrowed his brow. “Why would he kill Gertrude Robinson?”

“Because she was planning on destroying the Archives, and him in the process. Almost self-defense, in a way, if you want to be generous towards him, which I really don’t.”

“Gertrude was the Head Archivist; why would she want to destroy the Archives?”

“Because they’re evil, Jon!” Martin threw his hands in the air. “Because we work for an evil organization dedicated to an evil fear power, and the Archives are the worst of it--well, besides Elias himself, anyway. On top of killing Gertrude, and then killing Leitner and framing you for it, he’s the one who made the Institute such a mess in the first place.”

Once again, Jon was finding a lot of information being thrown at him in a short period of time. Martin had mentioned Leitner before, but not that the man was dead, a murder Jon apparently was framed for--was that why he’d been “on the run” before, or was that a separate, equally-chaotic brush with the law?

(Also, some small, dark part of Jon that had hardened in place when he was eight years old was a little bitter that he wasn’t the reason Jurgen Leitner was now dead and buried.)

But that wasn’t what first came to mind when Jon opened his mouth to make a rebuttal, though whether he cared more about proving his knowledge or simply clarifying the situation Jon couldn’t say.

“From what I’ve seen, it sounds like the Institute was a mess well before Elias got a hold of it. If anything, Jonah Magnus should get the blame there.”

“Yeah, yeah he should, you’re not wrong! But the point’s moot, because Jonah Magnus is Elias.”

“...what?”

“He’s been, been swapping bodies or whatever for two centuries now, keeping a hold on his precious Institute.” Martin made a series of vague hand gestures to accompany his words, though their exact meaning eluded Jon. “Probably has some master plan involving the place. He was James Wright, too, and whoever was the Head before that, but now he’s Elias Bouchard. The whole Institute exists just to be some creepy monument to the Eye, to suck in power from his fear god.”

Jon’s head was starting to hurt something fierce, and as he realized one of the many implications of this latest tidbit of knowledge, his heart started to pound almost as fiercely as his head.

“...you said I have powers from the Eye, too, because I’m the head archivist. The same ‘fear god’ Elias has, according to you. Does that make me evil, then?”

Jon had hoped that Martin would eke out a quick “No,” maybe add in a bit of comforting reassurance, move on from the question quickly enough.

Instead, Martin hesitated for a long moment, and when he spoke up, it wasn’t to give Jon the simple “no” that he so dearly craved.

“I mean, not exactly, but... it’s complicated. You certainly can do evil things, or, or unnatural ones, with your powers--make people spill their deepest secrets, I think you cut off your finger once and it just grew right back?--but I know you try not to do that sort of thing... most of the time, anyway. You’re not just some amoral monster like Prentiss was when she attacked--I mean, obviously not, or else we’d be having a whole different conversation--but you’re also not... entirely human, thanks to your connection with the Eye. I wouldn’t say you’re evil, but the Eye is, and sometimes it’s hard to tell where you end and it begins.”

“...Christ.”

“Yeah, I know, this has to be a lot to take in, and I’m here to support you however you need me to...”

Jon looked around at his mostly-empty plate, at the dreary weather outside the window, at the safehouse and its thrown-together furniture and the half-done jigsaw puzzle on the far table, and his head swam as he tried to take it all in.

“Does that ‘support’ include you doing the dishes? I think I need a nap.”

Martin looked at Jon quizzically, though he obediently started clearing the table. “Jon, you just woke up.”

“Yes, and I’m going to take a nap now. I think I could use it; my head’s hurting pretty badly right now.” It wasn’t a lie, not exactly, but also Jon just wanted some time to himself, to think things through without Martin’s presence or input.

“Need a paracetamol? We’ve got a few in the bathroom cabinet.”

Jon noticed the way Martin casually, unblinkingly referred to the two of them as “we,” implying that their possessions were one and the same, but he didn’t have the mental energy to parse all the implications behind that single word right that moment.

“Maybe after my nap. We’ll see.”

“Alright then. Just... just come calling if you need anything, alright? I’m not going anywhere.” Martin shot Jon a weak smile as he finished that last sentence, and Jon wondered if there was something he was missing there, some inside joke or connection that was lost to him now.

“Will do.”

The bedroom was still small and awkwardly-decorated and the bed was still far too big for Jon alone, but as he lay there, trying his best to mentally put together the pieces to this convoluted puzzle, Jon was glad that he had some space to decompress on his own, tiny and awkward though that space might be.

[we-rate-tmnt]

Give us the Donatellos!

Donnie is my favorite so Imma be super biased on this one. Maybe I like smart guys or maybe purple is my favorite color, you’ll never know!

Up first, the og ‘hehe turgle’

Donatello (1987)

Yeah I’m sorry for making this 

First of all, not the biggest fan of his voice. It has a bit of a whiny quality to it, and I’m not about all that jazz. His gismo’s look pretty lame a lot of the times, either it’s a grey box with some buttons, dials and flashing lights or looks like it was pulled directly from Lost in Space. Still a cute design but he felt pretty bland and seemed to be used for plot convenience most of the time. To put it simply, he was cute and essential but kinda bland. I’m always really harsh on this version because it’s so painfully dated and cheesy, which ain’t my cup of tea, but what can I say be hehe turgle.

5/10

I had a crush on this Donnie so you know that this is not remotely close to a fair rating but eh, I love him and yall do too

Don (2003)

His voice, such a huge improvement. I’m really sound-oriented and I often like to play a game of ‘I’ve heard the VA before, but which role?’ when I watch cartoons and I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty good at it. So when I heard that soft, caring voice, ten year old me was head over heels. Which is one quality I love about him. His heart is so huge, like I can think back to a bunch of side characters and most of them were introduced through Don helping or knowing them. The Atlantians and the homeless in the show owe so much to Don, but he goes out of his way to make sure that they are alright. In the last season (which everyone hated but I actually really liked so fuck me I guess), Splinter is lost into tiny pieces across the web and Don blames himself and goes without sleep and food for days to bring him back. It broke my heart, and I’m pretty sure a lot of others, to see him like that.

On a lighter note, I vaguely remember this one scene where the triceration dude is like ‘you did this!’ and Don’s like ‘I did? Good for me then.’ and had a very pleased grin on his face right after. I don’t know why, but that killed me. Bless Don and his rare, but excellent, comebacks.

He really does so much and there were quite a few episodes focused on him. He also had quite a bit of character development, not as much as Leo, but whoever gets any more development whatsoever besides Leo?

I love him he’s amazing protect him/10

Next up is the Donnie that helped me love my old gap tooth.

Donnie (2012)

Voiced by the very talented Rob Paulson, this Donnie goes back and forth from really great character to eh. The whole April thing was just kinda strange to me and I don’t really think it added anything other than some interesting Casey and Donnie banter. His crush was really strong the first two seasons and came off as stalkerish almost. Although I’m guilty of having a picture of a crush as my lock screen once as well, so I can’t judge that much. I really liked that they actually addressed this when Bigfoot had a crush on Donnie and he realized how April felt. Yeah, that episode was weird and just didn’t make any sense, but it really helped Donnie gain a new perspective and made him go from super crush to (mostly) hidden pining. He has a nice design as well, especially with the gap tooth. I used to have one and was really embarrassed of it but whenever I saw that Donnie had one, I thought it looked neat and I started to see myself in a more positive light. It’s closed up now, but I can still spray water between the little bit that’s left as a parlor trick. But seriously, what the FUCK was up with Don visiososoos whatever tf his name I I don’t understnad my tiny brain don’t understand why my purple boy tried to kill this dude who looked like he should’ve been wearing a red jumpsuit in the background of a pixar robot love story. Anyway, my tall gap tooth son, ily.

7/10

Then, the barely changed but fantastic

Donnie (Heroes in a Half Shell: Blast to the Past)

Baby but Bastard at the same time purely because of the ‘Anyone who bothers me, ejector seat button’s right there’ line. 

10/10

Now this version has one of my favorite designs out of all the Donatello’s!

Donatello (2014/2016)

They put a lot of thought into his design psychically, the long body, the near-constant look of surprise and curiosity in his features, the gadgets made of common objects, the wraps on his arms, I would love to be able to think of and make those kinds of details! It was all really well thought out and he stood out since he wasn’t as bulky as the rest of the turtles. I really like the little lines and the actor did a fantastic job on the delivery and really made the character come to life. Some favorites: ‘Ohmygod, they have guns’, the little awed, snorty chuckle when he flips a car over with his bo staff, ‘doitdoitoitdoit im not gonna stop til you do it doditdoit’ and when he straight up yeets himself out of a plane. He has a genuine curiosity in everything he does and I think he might be my favorite version. It’s hard to choose when it comes to Donnie because he varies so wildly. But for detail, voice and writing alone, definitely the 2014 Donnie.

8.5/10

Next up is God himself

Donnie (2018)

Chaotic as all hell, like I can’t think of a more chaotic character from ANY of the versions other than this Donnie. I have a lot of thoughts about his character in general, from design, to psychology and complexes. First and foremost, Donnie is a softshell turtle, meaning he has a DOPE battle shell and overall looks pretty damn neat. Although, I think that just the fact he’s biologically weaker has caused him to put up a lot of boundaries between him and his family and friends. He can’t be incredibly strong like Raph, agile like Leo or fast like Mikey and even though he brags about being smart, he feels almost beneath his brothers and strives to outdo them in any way he can. He wants to show them that he’s just as, if not more so, talented and feels overlooked because his inventions become ‘too smart’ or ‘too over the top’ and even the ones that work out incredibly well are written off for flashier projects. 

He depends on technology and feels like that's all he has, and (ironically enough) he’s built up a shield around him. He acts confident and narcissistic and has an almost nihilistic outlook, but he’s frustrated and feels inferior and wants validation more than anything. I came up with this theory when I saw the episode Turtle Dega Nights. I know that the scene was meant for Donnie to express how he feels about Splinter lying about the event and believe that he didn’t genuinely want to hang out with his sons, but that kind of thing feels like it’s been built up over time, like he’s been lied to before about the true meaning behind something. Something like, oh idk, how great his inventions are? Or how helpful he really is? Or how talented he is? Just sayin. Also ngl I might be self projecting a bit, but mmm. Also he has so much purple on him and it’s wayyy more accurate compared to just a purple bandanna bc people who like purple GO ALL OUT. A friend told me this and I thought ‘nah thats not true I like purple’ but then I looked down to find my dyed purple jeans, purple vans and my favorite hoodie, also purple. A really chaotic version but he seriously needs a hug.

9/10

Storytime: One time my friend dressed up as Donnie the same year I was dressing as April O’ Neal and we didn’t even plan it. It was fantastic.

Thank you so much for sending this in! Sorry it’s taking me so long to get around to these! I’m so glad you guys are liking my blog and my opinions!

[musette22]

OKAY so I just learned that Scott Evans is gay (how did I not know this???) so what if Scott was the first person Chris told when he realized he may possibly be bi, and Scott helped him come to terms with it (and get some Romanian ass)

OKAY so, I kid you not, I had the exact same idea when I was in the shower this morning and when I came out, I saw you sent this ask. So then of course I had to write a thing. I realize I could’ve written it from any point in the past, but I had just seen that video of Chris rolling on the floor laughing, and I thought, why not make the most of that bright spot in these weird times and continue where that video left of? 🤷��‍♀️

Hope you enjoy this! It was meant to be a short little drabble, but of course it turned out over 2k 🙄 so most of it will be under the cut!

*******************************

Scott giggles to himself as he posts the video to his Twitter and Instagram. He has no doubt that Chris laughing his ass off on the floor is going to put a smile on so many people’s faces – something that’s sorely needed right about now.

Chris, having exhausted himself, is stretched out on the couch next to him right now, Dodger lying on the floor next to him. The rest of the family is playing board games in the living room, but Chris and Scott decided that a movie night was in order. For a moment, Scott just watches his brother, until Chris notices and turns his head, meeting his eyes.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothin’.”

Chris kicks him gently in the thigh. “Come on, out with it.”

“Suit yourself,” Scott shrugs. “How are you doing, Chris?”

Chris frowns, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. “What do you mean, how am I doing?” he asks. “I’ve got my family around me, we’re having a movie night, I just rolled around on the floor laughing. I’d say I’m doing pretty well.”  

“Okay, but how are you really doing?” Scott presses.

“We talk every day,” Chris says obstinately. When Scott doesn’t answer, instead just giving him a pointed look, Chris’s expression turns thoughtful, like he’s really considering his answer. “I mean,” he starts, picking up his beer from the floor next to the couch and propping it on his stomach, “you know I’m no good at just sitting on my ass, but I know why I’m doin’ it, so it’s okay. And I get to spend some quality time with my family and my dog so I really can’t complain.”

“Sure,” Scott allows, nodding slowly. “But this has been a weird time for you, hasn’t it? Leaving Cap behind, going into politics, then everything suddenly being cancelled at the last minute… Must leave you feeling a bit unsettled, right?” Holding up a finger, he adds, “I know we talk every day, but it’s been a while since we actually had time to do some soul searching together. Like we used to, remember?” He smiles at the memory. “We’d sneak off to the attic with a few bags of chips and some coke and talk about our feelings” – he makes sure to inflect that last word with as much dramatic flair as he can muster, which is quite a lot of it – “while everyone thought we were playing video games or looking at porn or whatever it is ‘normal’ teenage boys do.”

Chris is smiling too now, soft, just a hint of melancholy to it. “’Course I remember. Had some of the most eye-opening conversations of my life in that attic.” He bumps Scott’s leg with his foot again. “It’s where you came out to me, Scottie. That’s not something I’m gonna forget any time soon.”

Scott hums in reply. He has fond memories of that afternoon, too. “So?” he asks after a while. “You wanna tell me how you’re really doing?”

Looking a little hesitant, Chris says, “I don’t know what to tell you that you don’t already know.”

“Sure you do,” Scott says easily. “How ‘bout you start with telling me why you were going around telling everyone you were going to take a break from acting, only to then sign up to two big new projects in the past month or so?”

Chris picks at the label of his beer bottle, looking a little sheepish. “Ah,” he says. “I was kinda hoping everyone’d forgotten about that.” He sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “I mean, I was honestly planning on taking a break, but then I had a couple of weeks off and I just- I just realized I would have all this free time on my hands and no one to spend it with, you know?”

There it is, Scott thinks.

Chris is lonely. He’s good at pretending he’s fine on his own, happy with Dodger to keep him company and spending as much time with his family as he can. But deep down, he longs to have someone to love. Someone to settle down with. It’s just how he’s wired.

“I know,” Scott replies honestly. “You’ve been on your own for a while now, Chris. That isn’t like you.”

“No,” Chris sighs again, “no, it’s not. It’s just… it’s hard, meeting new people. Especially in our business.”

Scott huffs out a laugh. “I appreciate your attempt at inclusive language, but I think we both know that even though you and I might be technically in the same business, your experiences are very different from mine. I’m an actor, you’re a superstar.” He pauses a moment before adding, “Also, I’m gay, you’re not.”

Chris doesn’t reply straight away. “Anyway,” he says eventually, “point is, I’m just so tired of that perpetual cycle of meeting someone, getting to know someone, wondering if this might be it, and then having it all fall apart again. I just don’t know I can do all that again. It’s never worked out before, so why would the next time be different?”

“Okay, now you’re just being defeatist,” Scott remarks, giving his brother an unimpressed look. “Not to mention dramatic. Look, why don’t you let me set you up with someone, huh? I know you think that’s weird, but I know so many amazing women who’d jump at the chance to date you. All you have to do is give them a chance.”

“I don’t wanna give them a chance,” Chris mutters sullenly. “I’m sure they’re lovely but I just…” He makes a frustrated sound. “I just don’t think I want to meet anyone new right now.”

“But you just basically said you’re lonely,” Scott cries, throwing his hands up. “And I know you want to get married and have a family, because you talk about it all the goddamn time.” He sighs, and in a softer tone continues, “Look, I know it’s hard, but you will have to get out there again if you want to have that future. You know that right?”

Chris inhales deeply through his nose, rubbing a hand over his newly-buzzed head. “Yeah.”

“Unless…” Scott says.

Chris’s eyes flicker to Scott’s face. “Unless what?”

Watching Chris closely, Scott says, “Unless, maybe you don’t want to meet anyone new because you’re still hung up on someone old?”

Silence.

Chris averts his eyes, staring at the ceiling.

Scott gives him a disbelieving look. “Fuck, Chris. You’re kidding me, right? Are you honestly still carrying a torch for one of your exes?”

Chris doesn’t reply, which is an answer in itself. “Oh my god, you totally are. Who is it? Jesus, I bet it’s Minka, isn’t it?”

Immediately, Chris shakes his head. “No, it’s not Minka.”

“Oh. Hmm. Jenny? Is it because she’s getting married? Is that what brought this on?”

“God–” Chris lets out a frustrated huff, sitting up and rubbing both his hands over his face. “No, Scott, it isn’t Jenny and no, I don’t care that she’s getting married. I’m happy for her, truly.”

Scott deflates a little. “Okay, well. Then who is it?”

“It’s –” Chris starts, then stops again, swallowing hard.

Scott waits – not exactly patiently, but he knows he needs to give Chris time to gather his thoughts. When Chris sighs again, it’s wearier than Scott has heard him in a long time.

“Do you remember,” Chris says finally, “in 2016, after I came back from that press tour in Asia, and you picked me up from the airport and you said… You said I was glowing?”

Scott nods, thinking back to that time four years ago. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I remember thinking you looked the happiest I’d probably ever seen you. I thought you must’ve just really liked China.”

Chris huffs a laugh that lacks any real mirth. “Yeah, it wasn’t just China.”

“Did you meet someone in China?” Scott’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, did some Chinese girl sweep you off your feet and break your heart? She the one that got away?”

This time, Chris actually laughs. “No, no Chinese girls either. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Then tell me,” Scott presses, bumping their shoulders together gently. “What happened? Who happened?”

This time, Chris is silent for so long that Scott thinks he’s probably hoping they’ll just drop the topic altogether.

But then, after a full minute, Chris opens his mouth. “Scott…” he says, sounding pained. “Please believe me when I say that I didn’t purposely keep this from you. I swear I would’ve told you if things had turned out differently, but… they didn’t. And I didn’t know if – I still don’t know if… what it was.” He finally lifts his head, turning to look at him, a pleading look in his eyes. “That’s why I never told you, because I was just – I was very confused. Still am. I’m so sorry.”

Frowning, Scott searches Chris’s drawn face. “You were confused? About what, Chris? What had you so confused that you’d be scared to tell your own brother – Oh.”

Scott feels his jaw drop, comprehension breaking over him like a wave. Chris, meanwhile, looks miserable, looking at him like he thinks Scott is going to punch him in the nose and storm out.

They’re both silent for a minute. Dodger, sensing Chris’s distress, has sat up, resting his head on Chris’s thigh in an attempt to comfort him.

“Oh, Chris,” Scott says finally. “You should’ve just told me, you big idiot.”

“I know,” Chris says, hanging his head. “I should’ve. You have every right to be mad at me.”

“Oh no.” Scott shakes his head. “I’m not mad at you, Chris. Believe me, I know exactly how you feel right now. I’d be a massive dick if I turned on you now, wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I still should’ve told you,” Chris says stubbornly.  

“You should’ve,” Scott agrees, “but I understand why you didn’t. It was hard for me when I was seventeen and a nobody. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for you these past few years, being who you are.”

The look Chris gives him at that is tentatively hopeful. “You really aren’t mad?”

“No. I just wish you’d have told me so I could’ve been there for you when you were hurting.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m still hurting. So technically, you could be there for me now.”

Scott punches Chris in his stupidly well-developed shoulder. “Well, then you’d better start talking.”

Chuckling wetly, Chris nods. He sits back, leaning heavily into the couch cushions and absently petting Dodger’s head.

He draws in a deep breath. “It’s –”

“– Sebastian,” Scott interrupts.

This time, it’s Chris’s jaw that drops. He blinks at Scott for a second. “You knew?” he asks, sounding almost accusing.

“Not until just now. But you coming out to me and mentioning that Asia press tour…” Scott shrugs. “It makes sense. That kid gives off some serious bi vibes. Plus, something tells me you’d be just his type.”

Chris gives him a wry smile. “As it turns out, he’s just my type, too.”

“Now that you mention it,” Scott says, cocking his head thoughtfully, “he really is, isn’t he?”  

“Yeah.” Chris smiles, his eyes getting this dreamy, faraway look in them that Scott hasn’t seen for a long time.

“Oh boy,” he says, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “He really did a number on you, didn’t he? Fuck, Chris. I can’t believe I never noticed.”

“Well,” Chris says, hitching his right shoulder up to his ear. “I am an actor. I tend to wear my emotions on my sleeve, but I know how to hide something I really don’t want anyone to see.”

“Clearly.”

“Besides,” Chris continues, ignoring him, “he didn’t exactly do a number on me. I was the one who was too scared, too cowardly to stick to my guns. I just couldn’t do it.” He shakes his head, as if he still can’t believe what he’d done. “We started sleeping together a couple of years before, but it was never serious. We just – ended up in each other’s beds a few times, I guess. Well, a lot of times. But on that press tour, something changed. We grew closer, and we were happy, and I wanted it to work. God, I wanted it so bad, but everything seemed so daunting, and I didn’t know what was going to happen after Marvel and the press and the internet were already vicious enough as it was. I just couldn’t deal with the thought of amplifying all of that by like, a gazillion.” His voice grows progressively quieter as he goes on. “So I fucked it up, and I let him go. And I miss him, every day.” The last words are barely more than a whisper.

Scott reaches out, wrapping an arm around Chris’s hunched shoulders pulling him closer. “I’m so sorry, Chris.”

Chris sniffs, shakes his head. “Don’t be,” he says, “it was my own stupid fault.”

“Come on,” Scott protests, shaking Chris a little. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You weren’t ready, back then. It sucks, but that’s just how it was. You can’t change the past.” He pauses, before softly adding, “But you might be able to change your future?”

Giving him a sidelong glance, Chris asks, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Scott says slowly, you and Sebastian are still friendly, right? You didn’t fuck things up so bad that he never wanted to talk to you again.”

“No, I sort of… Let him down gently, I think. He seemed to take it alright, but…”

“He’s an actor, too,” Scott finishes sagely. “I just think that if you really fell so hard for the guy that you’re still not over him years later, then you guys must’ve had a real connection, right?”

This time, Chris’s face almost crumples. “Yeah,” he says, sounding utterly forlorn. “Scott, I – I think I loved him. I think I love him.”

For a moment, Scott is stunned. “God, Chris,” he breathes. “Now there’s something I never thought I’d hear you say. I gotta tell you, as much as I know this sucks for you, it’s kind of amazing for me.” Realizing how that sounds, he makes a face. “Sorry. This isn’t about me, I do know that. Please continue.”

Chris barks out a laugh, bumping their knees together amicably. “It’s okay, I get it. Believe me, it’s a bit of a trip for me, too.”

“Phew, okay. So. You love him,” Scott says simply. Chris winces beside him. “Do you think he loves you? Or loved you, a least?”

“I don’t know. I mean, maybe? He said as much, back in Singapore, but then when it ended, he just seemed to move on pretty quickly. So I don’t know.”

“Chris,” Scott says dryly, “I think if he said he loved you, you can assume he loved you. The guy was probably as devastated as you were but just didn’t want to let on, especially since you guys would still be working together after that.”

Chris stares at a spot on the coffee table, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Scott says, “When have I ever been wrong?” He ignores the deadpan look Chris gives him. “So, my next question would be, is Sebastian single right now?”

A pause.

“I think so,” Chris replies eventually. “I haven’t spoken to him in a while but…”

“But?”

“I’ve spoken to Mackie,” Chris admits, looking a little guilty. “They’ve been filming together, these last few months, and I… I may have called him a few times to check how things were going.”

“To check if Sebastian was doing alright, you mean?”

“I mean, not just that. Mackie and I are friends too, you know.”

“Sure,” Scott smirks. “Okay, so according to Mackie he’s single. According to my latest intelligence, you, Christopher, are also single.”

“… Yes.”

“Yes,” Scott nods. “So what do you think I’m going to suggest you do, right now?”

Chris scrunches up his face. “Call Sebastian?”

“Call Sebastian.”

Chris blows out a long, slow breath. “Okay,” he says. “I guess I could give him a call to check how he’s holding up, under the circumstances. That wouldn’t be weird, right?”

“Of course not,” Scott says decidedly. “These are strange times, they remind us of what’s really important to us. If anything, I think he’ll be very glad to hear from you right now.”

“Okay,” Chris says again, nodding as if he’s trying to convince himself. “I’m gonna do it.”

“Yay,” Scott says, doing an excited little wiggle. “God, I love this.”

“This?”

“Talking about cute boys with my big brother. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Chris fondly rolls his eyes at him. He silent for a moment, before he looks at Scott curiously. “You think he’s cute?”

“Are you kidding me?” Scott says incredulously. “He is delicious. Lord, I probably would’ve tapped myself that if I’d had the chance.”

“Hey.”

Scott holds up his hands. “Okay, sorry, I get it. Back off, he’s yours.”

A soft, almost mushy look steals over Chris’s face. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I hope so.”

A thought occurs to Scott suddenly. “Oh. My. God.”

“What? What is it?” Chris asks, looking alarmed.

“I can’t believe all those tinhatters on the internet figured this out before I did. About my own brother.”

“Oh god,” Chris groans, “please don’t remind me of the internet right now.”

Scott chuckles. “You know the internet’s opinion doesn’t matter, right? The only opinions that matter here are you and Sebastian’s. Fuck everyone else.” Reaching over to grab Chris’s phone from the coffee table, Scott hands it to Chris. “Now, go get ‘em, tiger. Go get your boy.”

Chris gives him a brittle but hopeful smile. “Wish me luck.”

Scott gets up off the couch and leans down to press a kiss to Chris’s fuzzy kiwi head. “Good luck, big bro.”

He notices Chris’s hands are shaking as he scrolls through his contacts, but he doesn’t comment, instead making to leave the room to give Chris some privacy. Before the door closes fully behind him, he hears Chris start to talk.

“Hey, Seb. It’s me, Chris. How, how’ve you been?” There’s a pause. “Yeah, I’m sorry it’s been a while. I just. I wanted to check how you’re holding up. And, um.” A shaky inhale, and then, softly, “I- I miss you.”

Scott smiles to himself as he pulls the door closes behind him. Something tells him they’ll be alright.

[only-here-for-jatp]

The Secret Chord pt 3

I am very thrilled with my poetic serious title and my chaotic mess of chapter titles that don’t do the title justice.

Anyway this entire chapter is Nick-centric and contains some negative self-talk so if you have difficulty with that (like I do) proceed with caution and stay safe and okay pretty please.

Also, we stan Carrie in this house thanks.

Read it on Ao3 here

And also below! ~2100 words

Nick was pretty sure this was a terrible idea.

It’d seemed like a great idea last night when he was watching Julie and the Phantoms at the Orpheum. The music was loud, and the crowd was electric. The bass kept up a steady rhythm pounding in sync with his heartbeat and it joined the audience into one body perfectly in sync. He’d felt so alive as if all of his nerve endings were firing at once. His joy came out as an endless ache while he watched Julie perform her heart out, her own enthusiasm evident in every note and movement.

She shone so bright on that stage, more so than anyone he’d ever seen. He’d long since known of her grit and determination, the perks of being in school together since elementary school. Over the years he watched as the little girl with the big voice and no fear stood up to bullies, teachers, and during what came to be known as Fallout 2016 her (ex)friend Carrie.

Julie held her head up so high as she walked through the hallways and he was in awe of her even then. There were still some things he was still working out about himself and she was so unapologetically herself. He’d often wished for her bravery to be that strong.

At the same time, he watched Carrie struggle to keep her head above water. Her dad loved her, but he was absentminded and often off on the road or some tour or party or something, leaving Carrie alone in that big empty house. Before there’d been the joy and laughter of Julie and Flynn echoing in the hallways, but now she sat alone in her thoughts.

It was almost imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know Carrie, after all she’d always been a little rough around the edges, but Nick watched her harsh mask develop. He watched her use deflection and bravado to hide her fraying internal state. Nobody seemed to notice her growing intensity and focus on Dirty Candi, but it seemed like someone needed to do something.

Admittedly his feelings crept up on him. At first, he’d started small interactions as a friendly gesture. Little things like a smile or a wave so he could try to communicate somebody saw her. While she seemed a little confused at first, she soon started flashing him a smirk and a friendly sarcastic comment. Rather quickly their friendship grew, it turned into long conversations at lunch or studying together in the library. What started out as concern turned to pride and warmth as he watched this girl who hurt so much use her unwavering force of will (and a little pink glitter) to get up and meet each day with a take no prisoners attitude.

Once he saw her perform for the first time, he was a goner. That little smirk just did something to his insides. He asked her out and he was happy. They were happy.

Until Julie’s mom died. Whatever fallout might have happened between her and Julie, Carrie loved Rose. She’d been the closest thing Carrie ever had to a mother, and the loss hit her hard. Nick knew Julie would’ve granted her a temporary truce and welcomed Carrie with open arms to grieve. He was even pretty sure Carrie knew deep inside herself somewhere too, but the walls she’d built were too high and too wide to bring them down.

Nick did his best to be there for Carrie, but he knew he wasn’t what she needed. She needed Julie and the Molinas, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not yet. Instead her unresolved feelings ate at her morphing into jealousy and anger and acid. He watched this beautiful typhoon of a girl let the acid and anger consume her. Defenses and walls started going up against him too, until she treated him as little more than an accessory or a chess piece in her one-sided match against Julie Molina.

Beautiful burning Julie Molina who after a year of retreating into a cocoon, hiding from the world and her pain burst onto the stage like a firework. She maintained her grace and inner fortitude whatever the world, or Carrie, threw her way. Above all else though, she was kind. After months of being treated like a doormat, he craved the kindness and gentle protective ferocity that was Julie Molina.

He knew he followed her around like a lost puppy, but even if he couldn’t be with her just being around her made him feel like he could do anything. Be anything, even himself. Her music lived and breathed inside him, the words filling him up and offering him a lifeline when he didn’t even know how close he was to drowning.

He ached to return the favor of her steady reassurance and unconditional acceptance and support. She was incredible and she deserved to know. If he could emulate her even just a little bit, he wanted to try, wanted to practice being like Julie Molina.

Of course, this was how he found himself pacing the sidewalk for twenty minutes, gathering the courage to bring her these flowers. It shouldn’t be this hard. Flowers were a regular post-performance kind of gift. I mean, he did have a crush on her, but she seemed to be into her guitarist? Would she think he was creepy or weird or persistent? He didn’t want to scare her off. Maybe this was a bad idea. He probably didn’t have a shot with someone as incredible as her anyway. He’d like to think he stood a chance since her guitarist was a hologram, but the way they looked at each other….

What did it matter? These flowers were not crush flowers. He would’ve gotten her Dahlias for that. These were simply good job flowers. They’d performed at the Orpheum! That was a big deal. This is fine. This is normal.

A small burst of confidence propelled him forward while he gave himself a mental pep talk in his head. Later he would kick himself for not being more aware of his surroundings, but to be fair no one really expects a tall, mysterious demon man to sneak up behind them.

Yet here he was staring at this man in some steam punk adjacent costume, a smug plastic grin on his face and a mildly threatening atmosphere. He’d rang the doorbell, but he hoped Julie didn’t walk out here while this creep was still around.

“How sweet. The brokenhearted teenager fighting for his girl.”

Nick was taken aback. For one thing, brokenhearted was not the right word. He was hopeful. For another- “Do I know you?”

“No, but you will.”

Nick didn’t even have a chance to react before Caleb’s hands were around his neck. It felt like fire was racing through his veins, consuming him. He couldn’t move, his arms spread wide, but his insides struggled against the invasion. Thrashing and shrieking he screamed inside his mind.

It started in his fingertips and toes, his body feeling like it was too crowded. Like something was growing and pushing him out. He fought so hard trying to stretch and stand up to the purple smoke that was blinding and dividing him. Yet he was losing the battle with every moment. Feeling himself getting shoved and squeezed until he couldn’t feel his arms or his legs or the breaths he took or the beating of his own heart. Until he couldn’t feel the weight of his own tongue.

The world went quiet first. Then it went dark.

Nick came to in a room of boundless dark. He thought about being afraid, but it wasn’t a place where things lurked. He could tell it was just empty. A brief glance showed that he could see himself, slightly translucent maybe, but still there. The space seemed to go on forever and the longer he looked the more anxious he became. His eyes darted from space to space, but it was a never-ending sea of nothingness.

A voice echoed around him, making the world rumble and shake. “Now now, Nicholas. My name is Caleb and it’s nice to meet you.”

“Who are you!? What do you want!? Where am I!?” Nick shouted at the disembodied voice, hearing the fear and trembling in his tone and wishing desperately for the confidence and bravado typically attributed to jocks. What he wasn’t prepared for was the jolt that through him.

The pain stabbed in his gut and it felt like it was ripping him open, piece by piece. He fell to his knees with a scream, doing his best not to sob as the feeling lingered. Caleb laughed before continuing. “tsk tsk tsk. I am speaking, you just need to listen. I am… borrowing your body for the time being. This little lifer girl and her trio of ghostly boy band made a fool of me. And NOBODY defies my will and gets away with it.”

“What does that have to do with- aghhhh” Nick couldn’t hide the sobs as another jolt shot through him.

“Yeah, I’m going to need you to be a fast learner Nicky-poo. I’m in charge and there’s literally nothing you can do about it. Just sit there and be quiet and maybe I’ll return your body back in one piece. Besides you may not know what I’m talking about, but you’re close with that lifer brat Julie. Her ghosties would never let me get close, you on the other hand, well they can’t stop you.”

Nick felt icy terror roll through him. Julie? This madman demon was after Julie? “No” he wheezed. He kept repeating the word as if it would give him power as he progressively got louder until he was standing and screaming it into the void, damn the consequences. “NO. I won’t let you hurt her.”

Another jolt ripped through him as an invisible force knocked him back. The laughter seemed to echo around the space reverberating into an endless mocking loop. “You? You won’t let me? What exactly are you going to do Nicholas? After all, you couldn’t even defend yourself against me. What makes you think you’re capable of doing anything at this point to stop my plans?”

Nick sagged against the ground. There wasn’t anything he could do. His insides felt hollowed out as hopelessness descended upon him. Useless. He was absolutely useless.

“There you go! Now you’re getting it. Anyway, this is the inside of your head and it can be manipulated into whatever I want. Behave and I’ll make sure it’s somewhat comfortable, continue to fight and defy me and I’ll make sure you relive your worst nightmares. Got it?”

Nick nodded, curling up on himself in defeat. If only he’d stayed home today.

“Good, now I just need to borrow your memories real quick and we can get this show on the road. After all, I have a fight too.”

It felt like someone was slicing his brain into pages and flipping through it like you would a book or a deck of cards. He’d grabbed his head at the pain and briefly resisted before giving into the feeling. It was almost like he could feel the fingers turning through the pages. Flipping through his life as if it were nothing. As if he were nothing. He hoped Caleb got a cosmic papercut.

And then for a brief shining moment there was nothing. No Caleb, no jolts, no rummaging through his psyche, no noise. No world. Unfortunately, what looked like a big screen popped up in front of him. Was that the Molina’s house? Were these his eyes? He almost couldn’t watch as Julie opened the door. Then there he was again. Alone in the dark vastness of nothing. He let out an empty laugh. Of course, he was. That was him, always alone. Always hiding. Unable to make any true impact on the lives of the people around him. He’d failed to help Carrie battle her darkness and Julie certainly never needed him.

He wondered briefly if anyone would even notice if he was gone. If anyone would even realize this thing that occupied his body was using him like a puppet. He doubted it. No one ever managed to make it past his walls. No one ever viewed him as more than as that blonde lacrosse player, or Carrie’s boyfriend.

He was as unseen and unheard in here as he was for every other moment of his life.

The disembodied voice never said anything, but Nick was sure he could feel Caleb roll his eyes and mutter “teenagers”. Suddenly a couch poofed into existence and Nick settled into it, finding it oddly comforting. He curled himself around a pillow that he’d dragged into his lap, ready to watch his life spin out of his control.

[viking-raider]

HOME *Fic Request*

Summary: You and Henry crushed on each other, while growing up in Jersey. But, when he went away to boarding school, then became famous, you lost touch for a long time. Until, Henry decided to return home to Jersey, for a holiday, and recalled his crush on you, now a teacher, when you happen upon each other on the beach.

Pairing: Henry/Reader

Rating: You guessed it, FLOOF!

Word Count: 6,214

A/N: The Lavender and Red roses he brings the Reader mean something, I always felt Henry was a hopeless and amazing Romantic so he’d hide a message in their color. Lavender means: love at first sight, since they fell in love at first sight as kids, and again as adults, and the Red means: conveying deep emotions, since they both love each other very much.

Inspiration: Requested by @jessevans​ (x)

Tag List:@jennylovelyheart​, @peakygroupie​

“Are you ever going to tell her you like her, bro?” Simon asked, watching Henry stare at their next door neighbor, as they all hung out on the beach.

“That requires talking to her, and not stuttering every three words.” Charlie replied, grinning at his little brother.

“Shut up.” Henry barked, walking away from them.

“Hey, Henry.” You called, as he walked by. “You going home already?” You asked.

“Uh, yeah.” He smiled at you, feeling his face warm. “I got, um...homework.” he said, turning to head home, flipping his brothers off as they laughed at him, and unaware of you watching him go.

                                       20 years later – 2016

“Welcome home, bro!” Simon grinned, as Henry walked in the door of his family home in Jersey. “It's only been how fucking long, since you were last here? Home not big enough for the mighty Superman.” he teased, hugging him.

“Fuck off, Simon.” Henry grinned, hugging him back. “I'm not the same little brother I was, last time, I was home.” he commented.

Simon looked his brother over, Henry wasn't the same kid he had been, he was bigger in many ways, especially with all the muscle he was packing now, even more so since he'd just finished filming the Batman v. Superman movie. “Perhaps not, little.” he chuckled, patting Henry on the chest.

Henry laughed back, and the pair started play fighting until their mother yelled at them for it, and told them to come join the rest of the family at the table for dinner. After dinner and spending time with his family, Henry found some time to go down to the beach he enjoyed visiting as kid. He walked along it, watching as the sunset, enjoying the sea breeze and listening to the soothing sound of the waves crashing on the sand; it was the most peaceful Henry had felt since before he became Superman. He paused, seeing someone sitting in the sand a couple yards away from him. A shiver run down his back, catching the last of the sun's rays in their hair, and seeing the profile of their face, making his mind jump back to his childhood.

There was a knock on the door, and a bit of a scuffle behind it, before it finally opened, revealing 13-year old Henry, blushing like mad, and out of breath. “Hey, y/n.” he grinned, wildly.

“Are you okay, Henry?” You asked, tilting your head at him, concerned.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” he gulped and licked his lips, nervously. “Uh, I can, um, help...you?” he asked, trying to play it cool, and failing.

You chuckled, smiling back. “My brothers, and I, want to know if you and your brothers want to go to the beach with us?” You asked, brushing your hair behind your ear, and making poor Henry gulp even harder. “We got a new volleyball net.” You offered, in reason.

“That sounds great, y/n.” You heard Henry's oldest brother Niki say, popping up behind Henry. “We'll meet you guys there!” he said, pushing Henry out of the way, and grinning at you charmingly.

“Excellent.” You grinned back at him, but, your eyes lingered on Henry, before you left.

“You're welcome, Henry.” Niki grinned, going upstairs to get ready for the beach.

“Y/n?” Henry called to you, coming closer.

You started out of your thoughts, and glanced up at the voice calling to you. “Henry Cavill?” You frowned, standing up to greet him. “Holy shit. How have you been, Superman?” You teased him, watching him blush as easily as he did that last time you saw him.

“Good.” Henry answered, licking his lips. “How long has it been since...we last saw each other?” he asked, he'd found you even more gorgeous, now, than he had growing up with you.

“The day before you went off to boarding school.”

Henry's lips pressed into a flat line and he gulped around the horrible memory of going to boarding school, but blinked and shook it out of his head, not letting it distract him from you. “Christ, I was fifteen.”

“Yeah, feels like a lifetime ago.” You sighed, you'd heard how hard it was for him. “And you're famous now!” You smiled, changing the subject for the both of you.

“I am.” Henry laughed, looking down at his bare, sandy feet. “And, what do you do now?” he asked, meeting your eye.

“I'm a teacher, now.” You told him, brushing your hair behind your ear. “At our old Preparatory School, actually.” You blushed.

“That's incredible.” Henry beamed. “You were always great with kids.” he said, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Piers, told me you got married a few years ago, I'm happy for you.” He told you, feeling the bubbling bile in his stomach reach his throat, as he said the words, and forcing the smile to stay on his face.

“Piers, knows better.” You told him, sighing.

Henry blinked, caught off-guard. “What do you mean?”

“James and I had our divorce finalized yesterday.” You grinned, despite the hurt in your chest. You had loved your now ex-husband, but, that loved didn't last a year, into the almost seven-year marriage. It wasn't like the love you'd held close to your heart for Henry, even after all these years. You could still feel it throbbing against your heart, as you looked up at him.

“I'm sorry.” Henry frowned, moving to hug you, before he even realized what he was doing. “I'm so sorry.” he whispered, against your hair.

You were utterly shocked that he hugged you, the gasp you took when he closed his arms around you, letting you feel the impressive change in his body since the last time the pair of you hugged, the alluring scent of his cologne, and warmth of his body against the cool sea air.

“I'm going to miss you, Henry.” You'd told him, standing in his parent's living room, as they threw him a going away party, before he went off to Boarding school, the next day.

“I'm going to miss you too, y/n.” Henry sighed, he'd practically begged his parents not to send him, but they wanted the best education for him, so he was going. “We'll be able to see each other on holidays.” he added, hopefully.

“I'd really like that.” You smiled, then hugged him, quickly, before jetting off to some other part of the house, shy, embarrassed and hurt, that he was leaving.

Of course neither of you saw each other on those holidays, it was a few months later you went on a foreign exchange program to the U.S, and Henry graduated, before you came back, staying in London, permanently.

Suddenly, both of you realized what had happened, and shyly moved apart, stammering apologizes and brushing them off with mumbled words.

“Anyway...” You cleared your throat and ran a hand through your hair. “What are you doing back in Jersey?” You asked, managing to look him in the eye again.

“I, uh.” Henry gulped, toeing at the sand. “I just, uh, finished filming Batman versus Superman, and thought I'd come home and take a...” he wiggled his head, trying to find a word to use.

“Take a holiday?” You helped, smirking.

Henry looked at you slowly, a sweet smile pulling on his lips, meeting his blue eyes so much, you could see the bit of brown in his left one. “A Holiday.” he agreed, nodding.

“Well, Henry.” You smiled back, glancing up at the now dark sky, the bright stars. “It's late, on a school night...”

“Oh, right.” He started, looking embarrassed. “I'm sorry...could I....walk you home?” he asked, flustered.

You looked at him, a tiny bit amused by his being gentlemanly, especially since he played Superman, you thought, fighting a giggle about it. “I'd rather like that.” You smiled. “But, it is like a...fifteen minutes walk to Cannon Street.” You warned.

“Fifteen or fifty minutes, I don't mind at all.” He assured you back, politely offering you his arm.

“Fair enough.” You chuckled, taking his arm.

Henry let you direct him in the way to your house, that you had, fortunately, gotten in the divorce settlement, or you'd be living with your mother in St. John, clear on the other side of the island; where you would have missed Henry finding you on the beach. You both walked together in peaceful silence, but Jersey was a small place, and people generally, always, knew each other, even by just a face. Henry's face was hugely recognizable, and Jersey was largely proud of their home town boy making it big. So, people recognized him, and You, on the street, stopping the pair of you a few times to take photos with him, or sign something, before letting him off the hook, and you took his arm again. You were unphased by all the attention he got, he was just Henry to you. You were proud of him, always. However, he was still that boy you knew; his status might have changed, his body and whatever else, but, he was still that Henry Cavill, the sweet and shy boy next door, that had owned your heart since the day you and your family moved into the house next door to his. You were six, and he was eight. He was good to you, at times, the world was not.

“Well, this is me.” You smiled, pulling you both to a stop in front of your house.

“It's a sweet little place.” Henry smiled, looking up at the simple two-story row house. “Can I ask you something?” he asked, looking down at you, thoughtfully.

“Of course.” You nodded, sweetly, shy butterflies in your stomach.

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” He asked, biting the inside of his lip.

“Like, go out on a date?” You asked, brow creasing.

“We don't have to go out.” He told you, his fingers circling the top of your hand as it rested in the crease of his elbow. “We can have it here, if you're more comfortable. I'll even cook for you.”

“You cook?” You grinned at him, playful and flattered.

“I do,” He nodded, straightening up. “Quite well, if I say so myself.” He added, teasing.

“Well, we can find that out.” You told him, encouraging his suggestion.

“How about Saturday?” He asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You took a deep breath, even this far you could still smell the sea as strong as if the both of you were still there. “If you don't mind me grading papers, while you cook? Friday's are still test and quiz days.” You giggled, licking your lips.

“I don't mind at all.” Henry told you, softly, leaning his head a little closer to yours.

You gulped, feeling his warm breath on your face. “Then, it's a date, Mr. Cavill.” You told him, resolutely.

“Perfect.” He grinned. “Don't worry about groceries, I'll have that covered.” He added, as you let his arm go and started inside.

You looked back at Henry over your shoulder and gave him a wink, then went inside, resting back against your door and giggled with glee at the prospect of Henry Cavill cooking for you, in your house. “I could melt.” You said, pushing off the door.

Henry stood on the sidewalk outside your home; watching, seeing your shadow move along the shuttered windows, his mind flitting around various things, what to cook for you, what wine to bring that you might like, what to wear, and what teasing his brothers were going to give him for finally being able to ask you out...sorta. Seeing your shadow appear in behind one of the windows, he turned abruptly on his heels and quickly walked across the street and back home.

“Where were you, Hank?” Charlie asked, his brothers were staying at the house, for the night, so they could see him.

“Um..” Henry gulped, eyes wide and on the floor between them.

“What did you do, brother?” Charlie asked, smirking, he knew that look of his brother's, he was guilty of something, something juicy.

“You remember,” Henry started, then thought fuck it. “You remember Y/n?”

“Of course, she was like a sister, we all spent so much time together, and you crushing on her like a poor man after bread.” Charlie laughed. “What about her?”

“I asked her out, on a date, just a few minutes ago.” Henry confessed, meeting Charlie's eyes.

“You do know she's married, Henry.” Charlie said, shocked.

“No, she's not.” Henry snapped, butterflies in his stomach. “She's divorced as of yesterday.”

“Well, you went quickly.” Charlie teased, slapping Henry on the shoulder. “How in the hell did you see her again? Don't tell me you went out after dinner, to go looking for her.”

“No!” Henry groaned, frowning, and abashed. “I went to the beach for a walk, and I found her there.”

“And?” Charlie pressured him.

“We spoke and I walked her home.”

“That's a twenty-minute walk!” His brother roared.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“She's my son's teacher.” Charlie smirked, amused and proud of Henry. “And, this is a stupid small place to live, bro. It's not London, where you never see the same face twice.”

Henry pursed his lips, Charlie was right, he had somewhat forgotten the small town effect. “Anyway, we're having dinner at her place, I'm cooking for her.” he muttered, more to himself.

“How romantic.” Charlie smiled, patting Henry on the shoulder before going back upstairs, and finding Simon standing in his old bedroom doorway, smirking, he'd heard it all. “How, did you get her to go to the beach, Si?”

“I called Mary, to walk her there, get her out of the house, since she's been really depressed about the divorce.” Simon replied. “Then, I called Mary and faked an emergency, and she left, and like I knew, y/n stayed long enough after, for our dear brother, Henry, to meet her, after you brought up how nice a night it would be for a walk on the beach.” He grinned.

The two brothers had conspired to get You and Henry together, they'd conspired a long time over it, all three of them. They knew how much Henry and You loved each other, and never understood why things always seemed to keep you two apart; school, work, a marriage and whatever force it was. But, the three of them, would get the two of you together, by the time, Henry returned to London.

Saturday came, and Henry was racked with anxiety and worry about it. He went over the list of what he wanted to buy at the shop before he went to your house, rethought about the type of wine he should buy, worried that it wouldn't pair with the food, or worse, you wouldn't like it. Niki stood in the kitchen, watching Henry mumbled the words on the shopping list, for the twelfth time.

“Hank.” Niki said, his military commander voice coming out. “For fuck sake, man.”

“What, Niki?” Henry snapped, flustered.

“Come on, and grow that set of balls, you fucking have!” Niki barked back, like he was talking to some grunt on base. “You and that girl have been smitten, and goggling, at each other since you met. How the fuck, does me, Charlie, Simon, even Piers, mom, dad, her parents, and everyone on this island know it, and not the two of you?”

“She likes me?” Henry's heart leaped.

“Like you?” Niki grabbed Henry by the shoulders and gave him a good shake. “Y/n fucking loves you, you oaf! She married another man, while still holding on to her love for you. It's been how long, since the two of you have seen each other? And her love is still there. You've dated several women, got engaged once, but, your heart didn't love them. It was y/n, that you love. That's why those relationships never worked out, for either of you. I'm tried of us pussy footing around it.”

“She's in love with me.” It slowly all came to Henry now. “Fuck, I love her, Nik.” he grinned like a fool.

“Yeah, I know.” Niki quipped at him, relieved, finally, to see it on Henry's face. “But, don't be an idiot, and storm the castle, and scare her away. It's been twenty years of holding on to the love, probably feeling no hope of it happening. Not to mention, she's freshly divorced. Be the gentleman and good man you are, Henry. That's who she loves, you. Not your fame or money. She loves the real you.”

Henry shook his head. “No, if she can be so patient, I can as well. It's just dinner, after all.”

“A dinner you're fretting over, like a man going over his fucking vows.” Niki laughed at him.

“Shut the fuck up, Nik.” Henry laughed, pulling away from him. “I have to go shopping.” he said, picking up his coat and heading out.

“Don't fuck this up, Henry.” Nik said, to himself. “She's a good woman.”

You were running around your house like a terror from hell. You'd been cleaning your house, top to bottom, ever since you agreed to have Henry over to dinner. You'd changed outfits twice, and was thinking of a third time; were you too casual or too formal? Fuck, you never fretted this much when you and James were dating, course then, the two of you never really went on dates. So, finally you decided on something that said, I made an effort, but, I'm still bring myself. Nearly jumping out of your skin, when your doorbell finally rang.

“Fuck, have mercy.” You mumbled to yourself, hurrying to the door, paused a moment, then pulled it open, greeted by, a thankfully similarly dressed, Henry, who clutched a paper bag of groceries in one arm and a boquet of lavender and red roses in the other, that made you, instantly smile brighter. You took the roses from him, to release his arms of some of the burden, and smelled them, closing your eyes happily, no one ever bought you flowers before.

“You like them?” he asked, stepping into your entryway.

“I love them, Henry. Thank you.” You told him, stepping out of his way. “The kitchen is this way.” You led him down the hall into the nice and modern kitchen.

“What a kitchen.” Henry commented, surprised, as he set the groceries on the island. “You even have a pot filler by your stove.”

“Yes, James updated it in a frenzy after, God knows what. But, by the time it was finished, he lost interest.” You confessed, looking around it.

“Do you use it?” He asked, pulling things out of the bag.

“Sometimes.” You told him, watching the things he pulled out. “My mother usually the most, when she visits.” You stood on tip-toe to see what else he had, curious to what in the world he was going to make. “What are you feeding me, Henry?” You asked, turning and going down the hall into a closet and taking down at vase from its top shelf, so you could put the flowers in water.

“Thai Chicken and Coconut curry.” He told you, carefully folding the bag and setting it out of his way. “I recall you love Curry.” He said, watching you fill the vase.

“I do, a great deal.” You nodded, looking at him over your shoulder.

“Pans are there.” You pointed to the cabinet above the stove, any utenils you need are in the drawers on either side of the stove, and if you find yourself needing more spices, the pantry is the glass door with the word pantry on it.” You quipped.

“Excellent.” He said, pulling out a skillet from the cabinet above the stove, then turned to the island, biting his lip over all the food laid out over half of it, but grabbed the bottle of red wine, he'd bought two bottles, just in case, and showed it to you with a smile, suggestive.

You smiled back, reaching under the end of the island you were standing at and pulling out two wine glasses, from the hanging rack there. “The opener is below your left hand.” You told him, rounding the island to him with the glasses.

Henry took the bottle opener out of the drawer, and popped the bottle open. “I hope you like red wine, it pairs best with the curry I'm making.” he told you, pouring your glass, then his own.

“I love wine, in general.” You told him, taking a sip and savoring it.

“I'm glad.” He smiled happily at you, took a sip of his own glass and went to the counter behind him to grab a knife to cut up the chicken and other components of the dish, before getting it to simmer with the coconut milk. He tilted his head to you, one hand on your wine and your other holding a red pen, as you graded the big stack of tests in front of you.

“Are the tests still as silly as they were, when we attended?” He asked, coming to stand next to you, to watch.

“No, they're actually quite good.” You told him, scanning the test on top one more time, before setting it in the stack of papers you'd already done. “It's the answers that seem rather silly, nowadays.” You smiled at him. “The curry smells incredible.” You complimented him, your cheeks warming.

“Well, I hope so.” Henry grinned back, a blush on his own face. “Even though, this is the first time, I've made it.” He frowned back at the skillet, worried he'd mess it up or you wouldn't like it.

“I'm sure it will be excellent, Henry.” You told him, resting your hand on his arm. “How can something smell that good, and not be that good.” You inquired, following his gaze back to the stove.

“We shall find out.” He said, going to stir it.

You'd graded a good amount of your papers, by the time Henry had dinner ready, twenty-minutes later. You put them aside and put your full attention onto him as he plated it, biting the side of your lip as your heart skipped, he was gorgeous. The tip of his tongue poked out a tiny bit between his full lips, as he focused, chuckling softly, when he cursed, spilling a little bit on the counter. You got up, grabbing the dish towel by the sink, and leaned in to wipe it up, Henry looked up at you as you did, both of your faces an inch apart.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered, but not for the spill.

“It's alright.” You whispered back, understanding his meaning.

He put the pan down and cupped your cheek, then kissed you, with a pent up passion. You met his passion, tossing the cloth in your hand carefully onto the counter, and wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him pick you up and set you on the counter by the sink. Your kisses grew heated, and sloppy at moments, but, both of you were panting with satisfaction of finally being able to let it all loose.

“I'm sorry.” Henry said again, his hands resting on your hips. “I shouldn't have kissed you, I don't want you thinking I'm trying to rush anything.”

“I don't think that.” You told him, pressing your palms to his neck with your thumbs caressing his jawline. “I'm glad, I finally got to fucking kiss you, the way I've wanted too, for so long.” You confessed, licking your kiss swollen lips.

“As am I.” Henry smiled happily, kissing your lips again, ever so softly.

“We should eat, before it goes cold.” You told him against his lips. “You worked too hard, to let that happen.”

Still smiling, Henry moved away from you, and you hopped off the counter. Grabbing your plates, and refilled wine glasses, you both retired to your dining room, sitting across from each other and dug into the food Henry made.

“Oh god, Henry.” You moaned, eyes closing at the amazing taste of the curry.

“You like it?” He asked, his fork between his mouth and plate, waiting for you to take the first bite.

“It's super good.” You told him, going in for more. “You've out done yourself, Mr. Cavill.” You complimented him. “You are, indeed, a good cook.”

“Why, thank you, love.” He beamed, finally taking his bite, and finding you quite right about it. “So, how long have you been teaching at the school?” he asked, between bites.

“Three years.” You answered. “How long are you staying in Jersey?” You finally dared to ask him.

“I'm staying for a month or two.” He replied, a bit reluctant. “My agent's been contacted with a few roles that I'm interested in, and one that's been asked of me.”

“Oh?” You asked, genuinely interested.

“Yeah, one is Justice League, obviously Superman.” Henry easily spoke with you. “and,” He grinned, at the thought of the role, he hadn't told anyone yet. “One with Tom Cruise, for a new Mission Impossible movie.”

“That is so cool.” You grinned, excited for him. “Do you know what role?”

Henry sighed, still smiling. “Yes, the character is an American, Secret Operative, named Walker.” He explained, loving the look of genuine excitement and interest, not like most of the other women he's been with. Niki was right, you really loved him.

“Good guy or bad guy?” You asked, finishing the last bit of your food and taking up your wine glass.

“I'm not sure yet.” Henry told you. “I'd be excited if he was a bad guy, it's something different than what I've been playing the last little bit. And,” he leaned across the table to you, he was so excited, it infected you. “I get to grow a mustache.”

You giggled, at his excitement over it. “You must be thrilled, I'm sure you'll do an absolutely amazing job, whether Walker is good or bad.” You assured him, you were already proud of him for it.

“Why don't you come with me?” He asked, spontaneously, catching you off guard.

“What?” You smiled, flustered.

“We'll be filming in the summer, so you won't have to worry about school.” He reasoned with you.

“You want me to come with you, to wherever it is you'll be filming, during the summer?” You asked him, your stomach flipped with a flush of maybe it was too soon, and wanting to say yes, all at the same time.

“Yes.” Henry said softly, then blinked, his eyes going to his empty plate. “Fuck, I'm sorry, that was stupid. We've only just seen each other after years, and here I am asking you to come away with me. Nik told me, not to storm the castle.”

Your head dropped back as you roared with laughter, catching Henry off-guard this time. “Niki wouldn't go to the store, without a layout of the store's aisles, names of everyone that worked there, what number of the aisle that a specific item he needed was on, what shelf and where on said shelf, Henry, and you fucking know that.” You laughed, you'd grown up with the five Cavill brothers, and knew everyone of them, well.

Henry bust out laughing with you, knowing you were right. “But, still...” He closed his mouth, then opened it for a moment, before closing it again.

“You can tell me.” You whispered to him, reaching across the table and resting your hand on his. “Anything, you always have.”

“I don't want to rush, but I love you,” He told you, turning his hand to take a hold of yours. “and have since I was a nine.” He finally confessed. “Fuck, I'd take you away right now, if I could...”

“I'd go with you.” You interrupted him, gulping.

Henry looked up at you, his cheek twitching as a smile tried to pull across his lips. “Would you?” He whispered, quietly.

You squeezed Henry's hand has hard as you could, wanting the point to be made physically, emotionally and verbally. “Yes, all you need is to ask me, Henry.” You whispered back to him in the same tone.

“Would you go with me, when I film the movie, this summer, y/n?” He asked, in a steady conviction, dripping with just as much emotion, as he squeezed your hand, gently back.

“Yes.” You answered, in a normal and strong voice.

“Would you do something else, for me?” He asked, meeting your eyes.

“What?” You grinned.

“Come back to my parents with me,” he asked you. “I'll bring you home, I did bring my car.” He added. “I want my brothers to finally see us, and get the fuck off my back.” He laughed. “It seems they've been conspiring for a long time to get us together.”

“I know.” You grinned, slyly.

“What?” Henry asked, surprised, sitting up. “How?”

“Your brother married my best friend.” You told him, thinking of Mary. “She couldn't keep a secret, even if you didn't tell her one.” You chuckled, you loved her, but it was true. “She told me, after overhearing Simon and Charlie, talking about how to get us into the same place, once they knew you were coming home.” You explained, utterly amused.

“And, you didn't tell me until now?” He marveled at you.

“Unlike, my dear Mary, Henry.” You giggled, taking the last of your wine. “I can keep a secret. I mean, I kept the one about loving you, for twenty years.”

“But, everyone knew you had it.” Henry protested.

“Everyone, but you, who I had been hiding it from.” You countered, winking at him.

“Well, you've got me there.” Henry agreed, raising the last sip of his wine to you, in salute, then downed it.

“So, shall we go break the news?” You asked, pushing your seat back and getting up.

“We shall.” He grinned, getting up with you. “And, thinking about it.” He added, noticing the empty bottle of wine and the second one half full. “I think we should walk, we've had a few and it's not that long a walk.”

“Very smart.” You agreed, going down the hall to retrieve your coat. “Maybe, stop by the beach.” You suggested to him, holding out his coat to him as you both stood impossibly close.

“How many hours I've spent on that beach, either thinking about you, or watching you.” He admitted, taking his coat. “To finally step onto it with you.” Henry leaned down and kissed you again.

“You are an incredible person, and soul, Henry.” You told him, pressing your forehead to his. “It's one of the endless things, I love about you.” You brushed your hand through his hair, loving how soft it is, and his curls. “I love you.”

You and Henry entered his parents' house, and found his family just finishing their own dinner. All of them turned in their seats as you stopped in front of them, eyes on the pair of you, then dropping to your linked hands.

“Oh my god, Henry!” His mother, Marianne cried, getting out of her seat. “It's about time you told y/n the truth.” she grinned, ear to ear, and making both you and Henry blush. “Welcome into the family, y/n. Not that I never considered you a daughter to start with.”

“Mother.” Henry blushed, licking his lips and looking away.

“Christ, Henry.” His father chuckled, grinning himself. “Your Mother's planned your and y/n's wedding since you were ten.”

“Holy Christ!” Simon howled, holding his sides.

“A family conspiracy, I see.” You smiled, taking it in stride, and humor.

“So, has your mother, y/n.” Marianne told you, surprisingly.

“What?” You croaked, turning almost as red as Henry, in an instant, and looked up at him. “It's a wonder, how it is, we didn't end up in an arranged marriage.” You said, laughing harder, as Henry practically melted from the hot blush he had going on.

“We did think about it, but your fathers said no.” Marianne farther confessed.

“Mother.” Henry gasped, eyes wide as an owls, but she just shrugged at him.

“We always thought you two were so good for each other...”

“Don't use the soul mate word again, mum.” Niki said, insanely amused by the goings on.

“Again?” Henry squeaked out.

“This has been one, well thought out plan.” You admitted, giving them all props for it. “I commend, and thank you for it.” You looked at Henry, who looked at you, his face relaxing and his color returning. “If you all weren't so insist about it, I don't know if we would have done it ourselves.” You professed, blinking softly at him.

Henry nodded, sharing your sentiment and feelings. “I agree.” he whispered, kissing you, right there, in front of his entire family, Kal included, as Marianne clapped wildly and his brothers laughing their heads off.

“Are you two staying for dessert?” Marianne asked, when the kiss broke.

“Most likely, have each other for dessert, mum.” Piers commented, winking at Henry and you.

“Piers!” Marianne snapped, softly at her youngest, who just shrugged his shoulders and hands at her, unabashed.

“I can go for both.” You whispered in Henry's ear.

“I heard that!” Charlie chimed in.

“Oh, shut it!” Henry barked at him, playfully. “You all got what you want, and we got what we want.” he said, putting his arm around you. “So, what's for dessert?” he asked, as a place for you two was made.

When dessert was finished, You and Henry walked down to the beach, hand and hand, happy and full. You took your shoes off, walking in the wet sand as the soft waves washed over your ankles. Henry seemed content, but also thoughtful.

“What's on your mind, Henry?” You asked, hugging his arm and pulling him closer to you.

“Thinking about how I already miss you.” He told you the truth. “Granted, I won't be leaving until filming for the movie starts, and you'll be coming with me...” he sighed.

“You're thinking about after, when school here starts again.” You nodded, looking out over the water.

“I'll be back in London, and you'll be here.” He watched the water with you. “I know, it's not too far to travel, but it seems almost farther than the time it took us, to get where we are, here and now.”

“Well, what if I told you,” You started, pulling him to a stop. “that perhaps we wouldn't have to be so far apart.” You asked, looking up a him, still holding his hand as your other hand rested on his side.

“What are you talking about?” Henry frowned, shaking his head, confused.

“At the start of this school year, I was given an offer,” You explained to him. “to teach, at a school in London, next school year.” You told him, with the hint of a smile, hoping it was alright with him.

Henry's eyes grew. “Really?” He asked, feeling a hope.

“Yes,” You nodded, smiling up at him, seeing the spark in his eyes. “I was given recommendation from our school.” You told him, grinning.

“That's incredible!” Henry exclaimed, picking you up and kissing you. “Do you have a place?” he asked, still holding you, wet and sandy feet dangling.

“The school offered me a place until I found something.” You told him, feeling the pounding of his heart against yours.

“Fuck that.” Henry snapped, shaking his head. “Stay with me.” he told you, adamant. “I love you! Christ, I think Kal loves you more than I do, he'd love it just as much.” he searched your eyes. “Please.” he begged you, setting you down.

“I am yours, Henry.” You told him, dearly. “I want to go where you are, where ever you are.”

“And, You will.” He told you, grinning so hard his face hurt.

“Oh, don't do that.” You whimpered, seeing tears in his eyes, choking you up. “You know, what happens to me when you cry.” You told him, wiping at them as they slipped down his face, your own falling with them.

“I'm so happy to be home.” He sniffed, holding your face in his hands. “Home.” he empathized, pressing his forehead to yours.

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] Also on AO3

Chapter 10: Statements of Martin Blackwood, Timothy Stoker, Sasha James, and Martin Blackwood Prime regarding the infestation by the being formerly known as Jane Prentiss.

[CLICK]

[DIALOG IS SLIGHTLY MUFFLED, LIKE SOMETHING IS COVERING THE MICROPHONE]

SASHA

Do you have a tape recorder lying around somewhere?

TIM

Why would I?

SASHA

Dunno, but if Jon’s going to get our statements…I mean, you’ll need something to record them with.

PAST ARCHIVIST

(under his breath) Damn. (out loud) I can’t believe I’ve already grown so used to that thing being at hand that I forgot I don’t have one with me. Blast. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow, but…

ARCHIVIST

I’ve got one. Several, I dare say. Give me a moment to find an empty one.

[SOUNDS OF FABRIC RUSTLING, A ZIPPER BEING UNZIPPED. NEXT WORDS ARE LESS MUFFLED]

MARTIN

Here. This one’s ready to go.

PAST ARCHIVIST

How sensitive is the microphone?

MARTIN

It’ll pick up what it needs to pick up.

ARCHIVIST

I suppose you’d like the rest of us to step out for a minute while you do this.

PAST ARCHIVIST

…

No. No, I—it can’t hurt to have everyone here, I suppose.

ARCHIVIST

…Are you sure? I know you don’t usually like an audience when you’re recording statements.

PAST ARCHIVIST

If we’re all here when the statements are made, we won’t wear out the tape with everyone listening to it trying to get an idea of what they missed. And I can just get everyone’s in one go.

MARTIN

(very low, barely audible to the tape) It might help him if you’re here.

ARCHIVIST

Hmm.

[CREAKING SPRINGS, LIKE SOMEONE SETTLING BACK ONTO A SOFA OR LOVE SEAT]

PAST ARCHIVIST

Right.

(deep breath) Statement of Martin Blackwood, Archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, regarding the…infestation by the being formerly known as Jane Prentiss. Recorded direct from subject, third May—

TIM

Fourth. It’s just gone midnight.

PAST ARCHIVIST

Fourth May, 2016. Statement begins. (softer) Whenever you’re ready.

PAST MARTIN

Okay, well, first off, I should…probably tell you that I’ve actually known he was around for a few days. More than a week, actually. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what to say, but I—I did know. We’ve talked some, so I knew who he was and I knew Jane Prentiss was nearby, but he kept telling me I’d be safe, that the worms wouldn’t attack after dark, that—that I wasn’t what they were after. So I didn’t really worry about it too much, except to keep an eye open during the day.

Tonight…last night, whatever…after all of you left, I went to find him, and he was…agitated. He told me things were progressing more rapidly than he expected, and he was going to need my help. He’d just got finished explaining what it was he needed me to do when I heard Tim calling my name. I went out and found him and Sasha there and—I tried to get them to leave, honestly. I wasn’t altogether sure about all of this and I didn’t want them to get hurt. But they insisted on staying, and kept asking me what was going on.

I—I think I would have told them. Over dinner. Tim put stuff in the break room so we’d have it for dinner, we were going to eat in the Archives and I was going to…say something, maybe. But when we got back to the Archives, we heard noises coming from your office, and when Tim called out to find out who was there, he told us to get into the document storage room, right away. We were on our way in there when a whole bunch of worms came…pouring out the door of your office. We made it in safe, luckily, but—well, it meant I didn’t have time to do what I was supposed to do first, so we were trapped.

I told Tim and Sasha what I knew—that he was me from the future, that he was here to stop the world ending, and a little bit about what his plan was. Then Sasha mentioned she could hear…something.

PAST ARCHIVIST

Something?

PAST MARTIN

Singing. In the walls. She said she could hear singing.

I told her she shouldn’t be able to. That room’s soundproof. Future Me told me that. But she insisted she could. She said it was louder near one of the walls, the one that wasn’t by the door, and—and she prodded at it. Well, she kind of hit it. We thought it was an exterior wall, but her hand went through it. It was just plastered over and—more worms came out. Not many, but enough. I’ve been kind of storing fire extinguishers in there—I-I was hiding them, I know it doesn’t make sense, but I just felt like I had to hide them from the worms—so I grabbed one and sprayed until the worms stopped moving.

We grabbed a couple each and went through the new hole. It probably wasn’t safe to stay in that room anymore, and anything was better than being trapped, you know? I didn’t know how many worms might be down in that hole or if they’d all come out into the Archives, but I thought if we could at least slow them down in the walls, we’d have a chance to get back out into the main Archives and stop Jane Prentiss once and for all.

Turned out there were—there are tunnels down there. It’s dark, unsurprisingly. Sasha had one free hand, so I gave her my torch—I’ve been carrying it around wherever I go—and she shined it to show us which way to go. We started looking for a way back out. At least where the worms might have got in. The trouble is, the corridors all twist in on themselves—you go a few steps and nothing makes sense anymore. We got around this one corner and there were a bunch more worms, and they were moving a lot faster. We fought them off, but in all the chaos and confusion I fell behind, and it was just me in the dark. Tim and Sasha were gone.

I tried calling out to them, but it’s—it’s dead down there. It’s like the walls just swallow sound. It didn’t even echo. I realized they couldn’t hear me, and obviously I didn’t have a light anymore, so I just made my best guess at where they might have gone and kept going until I found a set of steps. I climbed up them and found a trap door overhead. I pushed it open, and…well, I was in the Archives.

And I found Jane Prentiss.

She—she smiled at me. Like she knew me. Well, she did know me, I guess. She spread out her hands and asked me if I could…if I could hear the singing. I didn’t answer her—well, not with words, anyway. I still had the fire extinguishers, so I tried spraying her with them. All it did was slow her down for a second, but it at least gave me some breathing room. I managed to get some distance between us.

The floor was seething with worms. It was…it was disgusting, frankly. I sprayed a bunch of them and stomped more, but I knew I’d never be able to get them all before—well, before they got me, so I went back to Plan A. I grabbed a trashcan and threw a bunch of the statements out of the Discredited section into it, just shoved them in there until the thing was good and full, and then I cleared a space under one of the sensors and set it down. I pulled out the lighter Future Me gave me and managed to get it going and lit the whole stack on fire.

It went up pretty quick, but…well, I had to set down the fire extinguishers to do all that, and the worms got too close. They came at me and—you know, getting bitten by those things hurt. I know that’s probably really obvious, but it did. The fire alarm went off about then, but the noise didn’t seem to faze them. And then the system kicked in. I guess there was enough smoke to set it off. And there was this—this scream—like tens of thousands of things without mouths screaming all at once. That’s the last thing I remember before I blacked out.

PAST ARCHIVIST

…

Why the Discredited section?

PAST MARTIN

What?

PAST ARCHIVIST

Why did you specifically burn statements from the Discredited section?

PAST MARTIN

Well, I didn’t—

I didn’t want to risk burning something important. The Discredited ones we knew for a fact were false, they were all the ones you could…record normally, so I figured…if I was going to set a fire, it would be best to use those, you know? Ones that wouldn’t—wouldn’t be important later.

PAST ARCHIVIST

No, that—that makes sense. Thank you, Martin.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST

See? There’s plenty left on the tape.

PAST ARCHIVIST

Hmph.

Were you two together the whole time you were down there?

SASHA

Yeah.

PAST ARCHIVIST

Then I think…

(clears throat) Statement of Timothy Stoker and Sasha James, Archival assistants at the Magnus Institute, regarding the infestation by the being formerly known as Jane Prentiss. Recorded direct from subjects, fourth May, 2016. Statement begins. In your own time.

TIM

We didn’t notice Martin wasn’t with us at first. Not until I asked him a question and didn’t get an answer. We tried to retrace our steps, but…like he said, those tunnels don’t make a lot of sense. I thought we were totally out of luck until we came around a corner and ran slap bang into him, or at least we thought we did. I asked him if he was all right and he wanted to know what the hell we were doing there. He sounded scared and angry and…that’s when we realized it wasn’t our Martin.

SASHA

I told him about the wall being hollow. He said he knew that, but he’d hoped we’d have the sense to stay put, so I explained about hitting the wall because I could hear that creepy singing from behind it even though it was supposed to be an exterior wall. He got kind of upset, actually, and asked if I’d been bitten, but I hadn’t. The worms might have been faster down there than they were in the Archives, and quieter and more aggressive, but we’d managed to kill them all whenever we ran into them, so it was all right there to a point.

We asked him how to get out of there. He said he didn’t know exactly, but that there was a trapdoor leading into the Archives, he didn’t remember precisely where in the Archives it led to. He said if we followed the corridors, we’d eventually wind up at the steps, but that we’d have to be careful.

TIM

That’s when we heard the scream. Scared the hell out of both of us, really. Martin Prime barely flinched, though. Actually looked kind of relieved. He told us that meant Jane Prentiss was dead, which probably meant the CO2 system had been triggered, so we needed to find Martin and get the hell out of the Archives. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said he supposed he’d just stay down in the tunnels, now that they were worm-free, and dodge the police if/when they came down investigating. Find a room or something. Like we were talking about the Ritz instead of what I’m pretty sure is the remains of the old Millbank Prison complex.

And then the door appeared.

PAST ARCHIVIST

Appeared?

SASHA

I swear, Jon, it wasn’t there before. One minute we were standing at a completely unremarkable bend in a hall, and then—my hand was getting tired, so I switched the fire extinguisher and the torch, and when the beam moved it caught on this yellow door right behind Martin Prime. I asked him if that was a safe room to go into, and he turned around and glared at it, then knocked. And…

Michael came out. He giggled, in that creepy way he did before, and asked us if we were lost. Then he held the door open and said he could show us the way. I—I was about to go in, but Martin Prime held out his arm to stop me and said, “They don’t need your way. Leave them alone.”

Michael seemed surprised, and then—I don’t know. Worried, maybe? A little angry? And then he smiled again. It’s really disconcerting. He said, “Well, you’ve been marked, anyway, so you can come through safely enough, if you want to. Will you do that for them?”

TIM

I told him to go. I said that if the police were going to be there, the last thing they needed was to see two Martin Blackwoods, you know? Especially looking almost perfectly identical and all. Don’t want the police thinking they’re seeing double, they’ll have us all arrested for being so drunk it affects reality, right? I asked if he knew where I lived. He said yes, so I said we’d meet him here. He hesitated, and then he nodded and followed Michael through the door—and it just disappeared. Like it had never been there.

We tried to retrace our steps, but “back” doesn’t mean all that much down there, really. Finally we found another door. It wasn’t yellow, so we opened it, thinking it might be the way out, but…no. Just a small room. Square. Dust covering everything. Cardboard boxes full of cassette tapes.

PAST ARCHIVIST

That’s where you found her.

SASHA

Yes. She was sat on a wooden chair in the middle of the room. No worms. No cobwebs. Just an old corpse. I recognized Gertrude Robinson right away. She was slumped forward, but I could see that her mouth was open, like she was trying to tell us something. Almost dropped the torch. Luckily I didn’t. We ran like hell and found the trapdoor not long after that and…well, you know the rest.

PAST ARCHIVIST

Mm.

…

How did Gertrude Robinson die?

SASHA

I didn’t see. Didn’t really look, and anyway, it’s been almost a year. Cause of death could have been almost anything at this point.

PAST ARCHIVIST

Tim?

TIM

…I don’t know. Not for sure. I mean, it was dark and Sasha was the one with the torch, and all I cared about was that she hadn’t been eaten alive by worms or whatever, but—

PAST ARCHIVIST

Tim! How did she die?

TIM

She was shot, okay? In the chest. Three times that I could see.

PAST ARCHIVIST

…Right. Right. Thank you, Tim.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

MARTIN

I’m not altogether sure that’s a good idea.

PAST ARCHIVIST

(tired and testy) I need a complete picture of what happened tonight. That includes you.

PAST MARTIN

Can’t it wait until morning?

ARCHIVIST

(also sounding tired, but more resigned than annoyed) Best get it over with tonight.

PAST ARCHIVIST

Statement of Martin Blackwood…Prime…er, time-traveler…regarding et cetera. Go.

MARTIN

In my defense, none of this was supposed to happen like this.

I’ve been lurking in the Archives for the last two weeks. Mostly trying to get my bearings again—I haven’t been down there in ages, really—but also trying to avoid being seen by any of you. Haven’t been very successful, although fortunately, the only one who never caught me during the day was—well, your Martin, so I could play it off. Our plan was to wait until Jon made it to the Archives, and then the two of us were going to tackle the worms while they were still under the Institute, clear out the tunnels, and clue the rest of you in. Until then, I was just waiting.

I’ve also been trying to help you all, as best I can anyway. I discovered, kind of by accident, that I can still get a feeling for what statements are real and what aren’t. It’s not as strong as it was when I was still an Archival assistant, before…everything happened…but one or two of the more powerful ones still speak to me. I didn’t dare put them on anyone’s desk because I couldn’t risk getting caught, or seen in the same place as your Martin, and I can’t…fade into the background like I used to. So I’ve just been kind of clustering them together in one of the corner shelves.

The thing was…well, I panicked. I admit that. Tim caught me out this morning and I realized after we talked that if he didn’t know I wasn’t your Martin, he’d figure it out quickly enough. And to make matters worse, he’d told me to take the statement I was holding to you. I was going to just leave it on your desk, but you were just getting back from your…meeting when I walked in. I’m sure I made it far too obvious that I wasn’t who I was claiming to be. I couldn’t run the risk of one of you telling…anybody I was here, so I figured I had to make a move. I thought if I cleared out the worms quickly enough, I could just wait about in the tunnels until Jon turned up and we’d go from there.

As soon as your Martin came to talk to me after you’d all left—(pointedly) we thought—I told him the basics of what I had in mind. He wanted to help, but…well, the whole point of all this was to keep all of you safe, so I told him the best way he could help was as backup. I gave him the lighter—honestly, I didn’t realize I was the one who had it—and told him to set up something that would burn enough to trigger the fire system if need be, and that if any worms got past me, to light the fire and lock himself in the storage room and stay there until the worms were all dead. He was starting to ask me more questions, I think, but then Tim called out and we had to scatter.

I couldn’t really hear what was going on, but I thought I heard Tim leaving, so I went into your office. The wall behind that shelving unit is another one that was just plastered over, which I’m sure you know by now, so I just kind of shoved them out of the way and, well, slammed my way through. And there the worms were.

I was just getting the fire extinguishers ready when I heard Tim yell out. I shouted for him to get back in the storage room—I assumed your Martin was with him—and went after the worms with everything I had. I could hear the squirming and—I knew that wasn’t good. In the tunnels, they’re a lot quieter, they don’t make that…noise. They’re faster, too. Something in the Archives slows them down. I’d been hoping the infestation would be small enough that I could handle it myself, but I realized a lot of them got past me and I was just hoping your Martin had been able to get the fire going. I didn’t realize how many worms got past me until I ran into Tim and Sasha later.

[A FULL FIVE SECONDS OF SILENCE]

PAST ARCHIVIST

Did you remember it?

MARTIN

Sorry?

PAST ARCHIVIST

The statement. Jane Prentiss’s statement—the one you brought me earlier. Did you remember it? Is that how you knew it was…real?

MARTIN

…Yes and no. I knew we had that statement—I mean, you said when I first made my statement about being trapped that you thought there might’ve been a statement from her somewhere in the Archives, and I remembered we’d found it in our time, but that’s—I didn’t know which one I had on hand when Tim found me. I just…it felt real.

PAST ARCHIVIST

How could you possibly not have known whose statement you were holding? The names are right at the top.

MARTIN

…

(faintly, as if the word is forcing itself from between tightly clenched teeth) Fuck.

(in a normal tone of voice) I couldn’t see it.

TIM

…Why did none of you stop me from making stupid comments?

SASHA

I’m sorry, is there a time you’re not making stupid comments?

TIM

Why didn’t you say anything?

MARTIN

Honestly? It’s been a long time since I heard you joke with me. I kind of missed it.

TIM

Christ. What kind of person do I turn out to be that you’d think I would tease you about that?

PAST ARCHIVIST

What are you talking about? Why couldn’t you see the name?

MARTIN

I’m blind.

ARCHIVIST

…

(in a choked half-whisper) He didn’t.

MARTIN

Jon…

ARCHIVIST

When he said he could—I thought he had a better idea than—i-if he was going to--

MARTIN

(overlapping) We both knew it was probably going to be the only way. It’s fine.

ARCHIVIST

How can you be so calm about this? You got dropped in the middle of the Archives, mid-infestation, alone and blind and—you didn’t want this! How can you just accept it?

MARTIN

Well, I’ve had two weeks to get used to it. Okay, it’s not ideal, but it’s better than the alternative.

ARCHIVIST

And which alternative would that be?

MARTIN

The one where we have to watch each other die, Jon!

[A LONG SILENCE, SAVE THE WHIRRING OF THE RECORDER]

…Sorry, that—I didn’t mean it like that, I—

ARCHIVIST

(softly) No.

(a bit louder) No, you’re right. I’m sorry.

MARTIN

It’s all right, Jon.

[CLICK]

[sadaboutniall]

something about you;

introduction | masterlist | tag | wattpad

Twenty Two. July, 2016. 

Exactly two months after Isla graduates from law school, Mully asks Emilia to marry him.

Niall had known it was going to happen—Mully asked him for help picking a ring, reasoning that he must be good at picking out jewelry if Isla still wears the necklace he got her when they were teenagers, even though they broke up ages ago—but it still takes him a little bit by surprise when he sees the announcement on Instagram. There’s something about the tiny square image of their faces pressed together, Emilia holding her hand up to the camera, that makes everything feel so scarily real, so very grown up. 

They throw themselves an engagement party at Babington House, a weekend away with Mully and Emilia’s closest friends—which ends up being Niall, Isla, Deo, Laura, and a bunch of other names Niall has heard in passing, but can’t connect to a face. But this is what happens, he tells himself, clicking YES on Emilia’s email invitation, when you spend five years of your life running away. 

Without letting himself overthink it, Niall texts Isla to ask if she’d want to carpool down together, and she says yes so quickly that Niall suspects she’s doing the same, not letting herself think too hard about this thing, whatever is it, blossoming between them. He picks her up at her flat in South Kensington on the Friday, late afternoon sun streaming over the city, and he ignores the way his heart leaps into his throat when he sees her rush down the steps outside her building, sundress fluttering in the wind, overnight bag banging against her side. She shields her eyes with her hand to look across the street until she spots his Range Rover and he ignores his heart again, screaming in his chest, when he sees her familiar smile, the look of excited recognition on her face. 

She slides into his front seat like she belongs there, like he bought the car imagining her next to him. And maybe, he thinks, glancing toward her as he drives westward out of the city, the sun hitting her cheekbones as she sings along to The Lumineers, maybe he did. 

-- 

‘When Emilia first moved to Mullingar, I have to admit, I was really fucking jealous of her. She swooped in out of nowhere—from a place I hardly even knew existed—and pretty much stole the two most important people in my life right out from under my nose,’ Niall’s standing at his spot at the table, champagne glass in hand, cheeks flushed red from the alcohol, the warm evening, the pressure of giving a speech at your best friends’ engagement. He promised himself he wouldn’t drag it out, wouldn’t bore everyone to sleep, so he carries on. 

‘It turns out I was a little eejit, and Emilia ended up being the greatest, most brilliant addition that our group of friends ever could’ve hoped for. Genuinely, Mia, I’ve never seen Mully happier than when he’s with you. And even though I was jealous that Emilia was joining our friend group, I ended up eating my words a few years later, when I fucked off, got a job, and moved to London,’ there’s an eruption of laughter here, maybe at the idea that what Niall does is a job. He keeps going, smiling, ‘I never really talk about this, but it felt like shit, leaving everyone behind. I fucking hated it. I was lonely and in a new place and everyone I cared about was here, carrying on without me. One of my last nights in Mullingar, before I left for good, I called Emilia.’

Mully’s brow furrows, and Niall takes in a deep breath. This is new territory, something he and Emilia have kept between the two of them for nearly ten years now. ‘I was worried,’ Niall explains. ‘Scared about what I was doing, what I was leaving. Emilia was the only person I knew who’d made a big move like that, to a whole new country, all on her own. She stayed up most of the night talking to me about what that’s like, how it feels, the whole thing,’ he quickly glances over to Emilia, whose eyes are welling up, her lips pressed together in a watery smile. She nods at him softly, a go-ahead for a question he hadn’t asked. ‘Before we hung up, I, uh. I asked her for a favor. It feels a bit stupid, looking back on it, but I was so scared, and I trusted her with so much. Before we hung up I asked Emilia to take care of everyone for me, to keep me in the loop, to protect the people I love the most. And she did. I shouldn’t have, like, doubted that everyone would be okay without me—obviously I’m not that important—but it just felt so good, knowing that I had Emilia to reach out to, that she would let me know if something was going wrong at home. No matter where on Earth I was, I knew I could call Emilia to check in at home. And I did. Loads of times. And she always picked up.’ 

‘Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is: Emilia, we are so, madly, unbelievably, ridiculously lucky to know you—all of us are. But I feel extra lucky because having you in my life has meant that the people who I love most are happy. My two best mates in the whole world are your best mates, too. And you’re about to marry one of them. And I couldn’t be any bloody happier for the two of you, I think I’d literally explode from it if I was.’ Laughter, again, but this time a little more watery, sniffly. Niall feels it, too. ‘Mullz, mate, take good care of her. She’s been taking care of you for me all these years. I love you both so much; there’s no better couple in the world. To Mully and Emilia!’ 

Champagne flutes rise as the table repeats after Niall, ‘to Mully and Emilia!’ and erupts into applause, laughter, jovial chatter. In the din of it all Niall sits back down, cheeks redder than before, a little shaky. 

Next to him, Isla’s hand lands on his knee. 

-- 

As the evening settles into night and the alcohol settles into their bellies and the party picks up, Niall finds himself dancing around Isla—a cat and mouse game as she catches up with uni friends and he messes about with Deo. It feels like hours of it: tossing each other furtive looks, flushing and turning away when the other notices. He catches her gaze lingering on his chest a few times and feels a stirring in his belly as he watches her blush, cheeks burning red in the candlelight, eyes glinting under the moon. He tries not to read too much into it, the way she gasps when he brushes past her, hand grazing her waist, or the way she locks eyes with him while she’s dancing, hands above her head, hair whipping around her face, lips parted. 

She’d said it herself, he thinks, when he has a moment alone by the firepit to catch his breath. She wants to be mates. 

‘Did you really tell Emilia to look after me?’ 

Niall nearly jumps a mile, and Isla bursts out laughing, head thrown back, hands coming out to steady him. She’s like something out of his dreams tonight, cashmere sweater thrown over her sundress, hair pulled back in a ponytail to keep the heat off her neck. There’s a sheen of sweat on her skin, the hair that’s escaped her ponytail curling at the base of her neck, and he wants to press his nose into her skin right there, kiss the sweat away, feel her breathing underneath him. Instead, he takes two deep breaths of his own, and says, ‘I did, yeah.’

‘Can’t believe you didn’t think I could take care of myself.’

‘Ah, Isla—’

‘I’m only messing,’ she touches his shoulder, lingers for just a moment as her thumb presses against the sliver bare skin near his collar. It’s like being on fire, her hands on him again. It’s impossible to keep breathing. ‘That was sweet of you. And your speech was brilliant.’

‘Thanks, petal,’ he says, watching the way she looks down to hide her smile, how beautiful she looks in the warm light of the fire. He feels a flicker of something in his chest—hope, maybe. 

‘This is mad,’ she says eventually, dropping her hand and looking back to Niall. ‘A fucking engagement party. Mully and Mia getting married.’

‘I know,’ he runs a hand through his hair, already disheveled from the dancing, the drinking, the heat. ‘Feel old as fuck.’

‘Literally,’ Isla glances up at the night sky, exhaling deeply. It’s thick with stars out here, over two hours away from the city, and it feels a little bit like they can touch them, if they reach at just the right angle. Instead, Isla drops her gaze back to Niall. ‘You know, all this growing up, getting engaged, getting married stuff…’

‘Mmm?’

‘I just,’ Isla smiles softly. ‘I always thought you and me would be the first.’

A thud in his heart, like someone kicking him directly in the arse. A clenching in his chest, like someone trying to choke him. A rush of electricity through his body, like he’s been struck by a thousand bolts of lightning, all at once. 

How could he have been so fucking stupid?

‘Isla,’ he says, closing the gap between them with one small step. ‘I—’

‘Nialler, Boyne! Everyone’s doing shots!’

It’s fucking Deo. Isla exhales a shaky laugh, hand coming to rest on Niall’s bicep. She gives it a squeeze, flashes him a sad smile, a soft nod. 

‘Not the right time, is it?’ she whispers, as Deo keeps shouting their names behind her. 

‘Isla, no—’

‘It’s always like that with us, isn’t it? I feel stupid for even saying anything.’

‘Isla, I’m—’

‘Always one thing or the other: your work, my school, Deo, being an eejit,’ she shakes her head, and it’s like Niall isn’t there, like she’s talking herself out of it, not listening to him. ‘Sorry. I won’t—I won’t bring it up again.’

And she’s turning away before he can get his shit together enough to tell her to stop, to tell her to come back, to tell her that—for all her massive brains and law school knowledge—she’s never been more wrong in her entire life. 

####

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[haec-est-fides]

Filodox’s Trials of Apollo Reactions [Part I]

Welcome to part one of a reflective journey through Trials of Apollo ft. my original ebook annotations! I’ll be your host, 2020!filodox.

For this first episode, we’ll be going back to May 2016, the beginning of it all: The Hidden Oracle.

Annotations for this round are brought to you by 2016!filodox.

Is there anything we should know before we begin, 2016!me?

2016!filodox: I swore on the Styx never to read another Riordan book after he killed Octavian. And yet here we are.

... Alright then! Let’s get started.

But first, a more detailed overview on how this series will work: I will excerpt bits and pieces of the books based on what I highlighted / annotated on my first read. Beneath each quote, I will share what I wrote in the annotation. Below that, I will (occasionally) laugh at my past self, clarify the note, or say how my view has changed.

I encourage questions, comments, and concerns (of which there may be many), so go ahead and use that replies feature if you feel so inclined! However, these are just my opinions and (occasionally) emotional reactions, so no hate pls. <3 (Or, if you do send hate, pls make it funny.)

Now, diving right in with Riordan’s dedication!

To The Muse Calliope. This is long overdue. Please don’t hurt me.

2016!filodox: Hurt him. He didn’t even name the chapters.

As you can see, I had yet to experience Lester’s haiku and was already mad based on the table of contents alone. I went into this series very salty...

I inflicted a plague on the Greeks who besieged Troy.

2016!filodox: At least he did something right. Once.

I was just,,,extremely ready to die on Octavian’s hill. (Though I was a huge Troy / Aeneas stan before all this, just to be clear.)

Is anything sadder than the sound of a god hitting a pile of garbage bags?

2016!filodox: I actually find this particular god crashing into a dumpster quite amusing.

I also blamed Apollo for what happened to Octavian. I think that had a lot to do with how Apollo acted on Delos in Heroes of Olympus, basically disowning Octavian and whining about how some “creature” scammed him? That was bullshit. Apollo needed to own the fact that he blessed Octavian, but he just abandoned him and denied all the blame. TL;DR I had a grudge, okay?

My mind stewed in confusion, but one memory floated to the surface -- the voice of my father, Zeus: YOUR FAULT. YOUR PUNISHMENT.

2016!filodox: Wait, is this bc everyone blames Octavian and therefore Apollo? Bc lol but also no?

*cough* Octavian did nothing wrong 2k16 *cough*

Zeus will reconsider, I told myself. He’s just trying to scare me. Any moment, he will yank me back to Olympus and let me off with a warning.

“Yes...” My voice sounded hollow and desperate. “Yes, that’s it.”

2016!filodox: Apollo is a self centered frat boy, I forgot...but it is slightly...endearing? *narrows eyes*

Ah, how close I was to stanning Lester in the first chapter, when he was at his most “goddy”. You know, I actually made a rule for myself when I started reading Trials of Apollo that I would not under any circumstances stan Apollo. That was a naive goal, because it was never really a danger.

Regardless, Zeus had held me responsible for Octavian’s delusions of grandeur. Zeus seemed to consider egotism a trait the boy had inherited from me. Which is ridiculous. I am much too self-aware to be egotistical.

2016!filodox: I am going to Murder him.

*chef kiss* the hypocrisy ! the lack of self-awareness !

“I just...I assumed -- I hoped this would be taken care of by now.”

“You mean by demigods,” Percy said, “going on a big quest to reclaim the Oracle of Delphi?”

2016!filodox: That sounds like a decent quest, or you know, QUESTING FOR THE SIBYLLINE BOOKS

I’ve always said I can see the future but an inch to the left. Also, I don’t like Ella.

It warmed my heart that my children had the right priorities: their skills, their images, their views on YouTube. Say what you will about gods being absentee parents; our children inherit many of our finest personality traits.

2016!filodox: AND HE’S MAD ABOUT OCTAVIAN?!

I mean ?

Apollo, when Austin and Kayla show ambition: THEY GOT THAT FROM ME <3

Apollo, when Octavian (or Nero, or Caligula) shows ambition: srry i don’t know him ??

He had a weak jawline, an overlarge nose, and a beard that wrapped around his double chin like a helmet strap. His hair was curly and dark like mine, except not as fashionably tousled or luxuriant. His lips curled as if he smelled something unpleasant. Perhaps it was the burning seats of the bus.

2016!filodox: Nero ???

Not quite sure how to feel looking back at this moment. Call out post @ myself for instantly recognizing Nero, when afaik this scene was before we had any hints that Roman emperors were even a plot point? But here’s the thing: I don’t remember why I could recognize him so easily. I don’t remember where 2016!me obtained this ancient Rome knowledge. A mystery.

On another note entirely, did Nero really like,,,astral project into Apollo’s fever dream to address him directly? Because Rhea does. And sometimes Python does. But Nero? Can he do that?

The man laughed as flames licked at his purple sleeves. “You’re not sorry yet, but you will be. Find me the gates. Lead me to the Oracle. I’ll enjoy burning it down!”

2016!filodox: I too enjoy burning things down. # Nero confirmed

My only comment here is “oh you sweet summer child,,,”

Oh. Perhaps some of you are wondering how I felt seeing [Will] with a boyfriend rather than a girlfriend.

2016!filodox: No, actually. I wasn’t wondering. I was plotting how to kill you, them, and quite a few other people. Do you think I could trade you for Octavian?

Oh man, back at it again with the salt. XD

I could only remember my conversations with Octavian, the way he’d turned my head with his flattery and promises. That stupid boy...it was his fault I was here.

A voice whispered in the back of my mind. This time I thought it might be my conscience: Who was the stupid boy? It wasn’t Octavian.

2016!filodox: I can’t really...explain my emotions upon reading this. I’m still not quite okay, but this...it’s bittersweet in a way. I don’t know if this is a poor attempt at a proper closure, the author’s way of beating a dead horse, or just a way to make Apollo seem pitiable. Whatever it is... Octavian was important enough to remain in Apollo’s mortal memory. He somehow made promises to a god and had Apollo wrapped around his finger. And despite being so much like Apollo, the god blames him. Like everyone blames him. But Apollo also realizes, accepts on an infinitesimal scale, that “it wasn’t Octavian”. He wasn’t perfect, but neither is Apollo. Apollo is (at least) subconsciously admitting his own guilt in the whole affair.

...yeah. I will note that this bit isn’t meant to develop Octavian, but rather uses Octavian as a prop to support Apollo’s development? Which is why it still stings. Like thanks, I guess.

“Your judgement in the past has been...questionable. I wonder if you have chosen the right tools for this job. Have you learned from your past mistakes?”

2016!filodox: Nero has made plenty of mistakes to learn from

Love how I just assumed it was Nero back in chapter 10 and went with it, zero hesitation. Also love how I heard Python say Nero has made mistakes and went “oh absolutely”. In fact, here’s something funny in retrospect that will become more and more apparent: I did not like Nero in 2016. Or, at least, I thought I didn’t. There’s something really odd going on here that baffles me, looking back...

“A triumvirate is a ruling council of three,” I said. “At least, that’s what it meant in ancient Rome.”

“Which is interesting,” Rachel said, “because of this next shot.” She tapped her screen. The new photo zoomed in on the building’s penthouse terrace, where three shadowy figures stood talking together....

2016!filodox: Is it bad that I’m smirking? Because it’s getting interesting ~ *clear malicious intent*

Wow, edgy. Triumvirates are just a neat, Roman thing and I stanned.

“The last triumvirate I dealt with included Lepidus, Marc Antony, and my son, the original Octavian. A triumvirate is a very Roman concept...like patriotism, skullduggery, and assassination.”

2016!filodox: THIS IS WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL EVERYONE. MODERN OCTAVIAN IS A VERY GOOD ANCIENT ROMAN. POLITICS, ESPECIALLY SHADY AF POLITICS AND POWERPLAYS, ARE QUINTESSENTIALLY ROMAN. Also, I’d like to note that it’s confirmed, in this universe’s canon, that Augustus was a son of Apollo.

Ohhhh, wait. I think I’d watched the HBO series Rome by 2016, which would at least partially explain my ancient Rome knowledge. (Amazing tv show btw!)

“He heard them talking in Latin.”

“Latin? Were they campers?”

Pete spread his hands. “I--I don’t think so. Paulie described them like they were adults. He said one of them was the leader. The other two addressed him as imperator.”

2016!filodox: !!!! (obligatory 💕)

I was such a simp for Latin in high school. And the Roman Empire. Still am, but hey.

“The Beast is planning some kind of attack on your camp. I don’t know what it is, but it’s going to be big.”

2016!filodox: Runs in the family I guess

The Octavian / Triumvirate parallels are everywhere... 👀

“The emperors made themselves gods. They had their own temples and altars. They encouraged the people to worship them.”

2016!filodox: # deify me

*smacking my past self with a stick* You stop that! Edgy child!

Anyway, a much better point here is like,,,the Imperial cult was huge in the ancient Roman world. Looking at Apollo’s explanation here, why did only the “worst” three emperors get to be immortal? Did famously “good” emperors like Augustus and Marcus Aurelius have the option of becoming minor gods, but they chose Elysium or something? Are there slightly less infamous emperors just hanging around anywhere as minor gods? A lot of Roman emperors live on in human memory is all I’m saying.

“Wait!” Will said as I reached the door. “Who is the Beast? Which emperor are we dealing with?”

“The worst of my descendants.” My fingers dug into the doorframe. “The Christians called him the Beast because he burned them alive. Our enemy is Emperor Nero.”

2016!filodox: I honestly can’t believe it took this long to reveal this? Was anyone surprised?

Nero’s reveal is rather late in the book compared to Commodus, Caligula, and even Tarquin iirc? But it makes sense, being the first book of the series. Also love how 16-year-old me was like “this reveal is silly because everyone, like me, recognizes Nero on sight” and didn’t question that assumption at all.

“Germani.” Instinctively, I moved in front of Meg. The elite imperial bodyguards had been cold-blooded death reapers in ancient Rome. I doubted they’d gotten any sweeter over the centuries.

2016!filodox: BITCH. See? This is why I love Rome. They knew what they were doing.

Ngl, as someone of Germanic heritage, I felt really represented by the Germani, which is hilarious on so many levels.

He tried to compensate for his ugliness with an expensive Italian suit of purple wool, his gray shirt open to display gold chains. His shoes were hand-tooled leather, not the sort of thing to wear while stomping around in an ant pile. Then again, Nero had always had expensive, impractical tastes.

2016!filodox: I don’t exactly like Nero, and actually think he was quite the shitty emperor, but I guess I mildly respect and “like” him on principle (in this book at least).

OH YOU SWEET SUMMER CHILD. I was so convinced that I didn’t actually like Nero, despite all of the lowkey evidence to the contrary? Who hurt you, past me? (Lmao, it was Tacitus, Suetonius, and Cassius Dio.) My working theory is that I was too much of an Emperor Augustus stan at the time to admit liking Nero. It’s hysterical. Look at me equivocating like a champ.

I’d been so proud of my son, the original Octavian, later Caesar Augustus. After his death, his descendants became increasingly arrogant and unstable (which I blamed on their mortal DNA; they certainly didn’t get those qualities from me).

2016!filodox: I’m glad Apollo and I can agree on something. Augustus was amazing and those who came after him...significantly less so.

See! The propaganda really got to me, what can I say?

Nero clasped his hands as if in prayer. “Oh, my. It seems we’ve had a slight miscommunication. You see, Apollo, Meg brought you here, just as I asked her to. Well done, my sweet.”

2016!filodox: This was obvious but I still find it...gods, the only word I can think of is “delicious”

. . .

“The Beast killed my father. This is Nero. He’s -- he’s my stepfather.”

I could not fully grasp this before Nero spread his arms.

“That’s right, my darling,” he said. “And you’ve done a wonderful job. Come to Papa.”

2016!filodox: Okay, but we should have known this since it became apparent her weapons were Roman. Also, oof. Also also, WHY did Riordan feel the need to add that last line? Why?

ASDFGHJKL: I CAN’T

“After the fire, we’ll rebuild,” he said. “It will be glorious!”

2016!filodox: The amount of times I have used this very logic is worrying.

For (some) context, Firelord Ozai is my favorite character from AtLA. <3

The scene might have been funny except that the Germani were now back on their feet, five demigods and a geyser spirit were still tied to highly flammable posts, and Nero still had a box of matches.

2016!filodox: Oh, I find this plenty amusing!

The emperor stared at his empty hand. “Meg...?” His voice was as cold as an icicle.

2016!filodox: The various ways his tone / voice have been described throughout this conversation are just 💕

*looks at camera like I’m on The Office*

Seriously, though. Nero’s voice is like the central descriptive element of his character because he’s so manipulative. It’s really cool and a great use of detail.

[Meg] turned to Nero. “You told me never to lower myself to my enemies’ level.”

“No, indeed.” Nero’s tone had frayed like a weathered rope. “We are better. We are stronger. We will build a glorious new world. But these nonsense-spewing trees stand in our way, Meg. Like any invasive weeds, they must be burned. And the only way to do that is with a true conflagration -- flames stoked by blood.”

2016!filodox: Real 👏🏻 Gods 👏🏻 Require 👏🏻 Blood👏🏻

I was way too enthusiastic about this whole situation, wasn’t I?

Nero grinned. “Good-bye, Apollo. Only eleven more Olympians to go.”

2016!filodox: Wait, shit, WHAT

Having read Tower of Nero, this probably had something to do with Python interfering with the Fates, huh? But does that mean it’s more Python’s plan or Nero’s? If this was Nero’s plan (with his 12 kids literally replacing the Olympians) that’s,,,really fucking bold.

Then I heard the screaming from Camp Half-Blood.

2016!filodox: Music to my ears ~

I’m presenting every edgy detail of my annotations so I have a proper case file when I inevitably have to face the question “On a scale of one to ten, how relatable is Emperor Nero and why should you have realized it’s a ten sooner?”

In a flash of silver light, the camp’s magical barriers collapsed. The Colossus lurched forward and brought his foot down on the dining pavilion, smashing it to rubble like so many children’s blocks.

2016!filodox: Payback! Dear gods, I can’t stop smiling! I’m just like “YES!” I know this will all probably get fixed or whatever but I’M HAVING A MOMENT.

I’ve learned to appreciate the small wins. <3

Percy grabbed one of the crown’s sunray spikes. He sliced it off at the base, then jabbed it into the Colossus’ forehead.

2016!filodox: As much as Nero is FAR from my favorite, I really don’t like defacing ancient (or replicas of ancient) statues and art...

This is where I just start laughing at myself tbh. I was so insistent on not liking Nero. Like, I sound like I’m in denial. Peak equivocation. What happened to that heart emoji a few chapters back? Why did I suddenly make it about *checks notes* ancient art? Updated translation: nooo don’t ruin the Colossus Neronis it’s so sexy aha

Just as the [arrow] reached its apex and was about to fall back to earth, a gust of wind caught it...perhaps Zephyros looking kindly on my pitiful attempt. The arrow sailed into the Colossus’ ear canal and rattled in his head with a clink, clink, clink like a pachinko machine.

2016!filodox: HOW MANY EX MACHINAS IS THIS ?! The dryads, the arrow, Percy, the enchantment, and THIS ?

One of my criticisms of Trials of Apollo in general is just that the stakes are so much higher and Riordan usually solves that problem by having his heroes win on long odds. The chances of them succeeding at like,,,anything they attempt are astronomical, but of course they manage. It’s not surprising but it does get a little tiring.

“Yo, Nico,” Leo called, “please tell me that’s it for the physical abuse.”

“For now.” Nico smiled. “We’re still trying to get in touch with the West Coast. You’ll have a few dozen people out there who will definitely want to hit you.”

2016!filodox: Oh I’d love to hit him. With the flaming, Imperial gold payload of an onager. Preferably WITHOUT the Pontifex Maximus attached to it -- unless of course you mean the false pontifex, Jason Grace.

Leo was the salt in the wound for this one, ngl. He rekindled my undying ire over Octavian’s death. As I said at the beginning of this, I was extremely ready to die on Octavian’s hill after Heroes of Olympus. That sentiment sticks around for a while...

And we can call that a wrap!

Though it may seem like it, my annotations are not, in fact, a compilation of Nero’s greatest hits. There are a lot of scenes of his that I love (naturally) but I didn’t have anything to say about them when I first read the series. Maybe I’ll share those another time.

In any case, I hope you got something out of this ridiculously long post! Until next time! <3

[holidaywishes]

It Had To Be You XXXVIII

Chapter Thirty Eight: Sad Song

  Summary: Fast forward six months and the new Preseason is just about to start. After a rough playoff loss, Tyler wants this season to be better and he has some ideas on how to make everything go smoothly.

  Warning: I guess because this song is so cheesy and sweet, there’s going to be a lot of fluff in this chapter, this one’s also got a few time jumps as well.

  Author’s Note: I don’t really know where I’m going with this series anymore. I think I’m trying to stretch it out to 50 chapters but it all depends on how I’m feeling obviously. Just know that I have a thing with odd numbers. That is to say, I will only end on an even number or a multiple of 5 (45, 50, 55, etc.) But this one will be another short chapter (and I’ll admit this is really not my favourite) but I’ll probably put two out back to back since I have something in my head and I’m literally not doing anything else, so why not? Anyway, I hope you like whatever comes from the rest of this series, ENJOY!

  P.S. This chapter took a little longer than I thought it would but I have some clearer ideas of what the next like four-ish chapters are going to be so that’s exciting.

  P.P.S. I wanted to update the timeline because this chapter has a lot of time jumps as did the last chapter. So here’s a quick recap of the whole series:

  Part I: September 2013

  Part II: November 2013

  Part III: January 2015

  Parts IV and V: May-June 2015

  Part VI: June 2015/January 2016

  Part VII: January 2016/June 2016/November 2016

  Part VIII: November 2016

  Part IX: December 2016

  Part X: January 2017

  Part XI: February-August 2017

  Part XII: September-November 2017

  Part XIII: mid-November-December 2017

  Part XIV: January-February 2018

  Part XV: March-April 2018

  Part XVI: April-June 2018

  Part XVII: July 2018

  Part XVIII: July-November 2018

  Parts XIX, XX and XXI: December 2018

  Parts XXII: December-January 2019

  Part XXIII, XXIV, XXV and XXVI: January 2019

  Part XXVII: late January-March 2019

  Parts XXVIII and XXIX: March 2019

  Part XXX: late-March/April-May 2019

  Part XXXI: May-November 2019

  Part XXXII: January 2020

  Part XXXIII: late January 2020

  Parts XXXIV and XXXV: August 2020

  Part XXXVI: October-Early November 2020

  Part XXXVII: March 2021

  Part XXXVIII (this chapter): July/September 2021/January 2022 (yup I did that)

  Song Credit: Sad Song -- We the Kings & Elena Coats

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

  After the whole quarantine last year, and the season being cancelled, Tyler wanted the next to be better but after being knocked out in the first round he wasn’t in the best mood for a few months. He spent every waking minute training during the summer, except for his seemingly annual trip to the Bahama’s with the guys.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asked when you said you’d stay behind and watch the dogs

  “I’ve gotta work,” you replied, pushing yourself up to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his, “plus, I think you need some time with your boys to let loose. As long as you don’t let loose too much...”

  “Don’t worry, babe,” he replied, pecking your lips between words, “we’ll really just be playing a lot of golf. You know how it goes..” You sent him off with one last kiss and sent him an ‘I love you’ text before he got on the plane. You felt completely secure with Tyler lately but maybe that had to do with the fact that two of you had survived four months in self-isolation together. Whatever it was, you weren’t nervous about spending a week away from each other.

xx

  Tyler’s week away proved to be just what he needed to get his spirits up but as soon as he was back in Dallas, the two of you decided to head up to Brampton to see his family but it was over just as quickly as it began and it was time for the preseason to start. It was a pretty easy start to the season with the Stars winning 7 of their 8 preseason games which left Tyler with a huge grin on his face and he told you he was very positive for the rest of the city.

  “I have a good feeling about this season, you know?” he said, rinsing the dishes as you washed down the counter, “I feel like this could be our year.”

  “I think you guys are looking good out there but--” Tyler put his finger in front of your mouth to stop you from continuing

  “Don’t jinx it. We’re looking good and we’ll continue to look good because we’re in this for the long run.” He said, raising his eyebrows intensely so you got his point and you just smiled before nodding and walking away. You were happy he was so confident about the season especially after everything that happened and seeing him so excited made you excited for the season.

  “Hey, Ty,” you called from the couch, “you’re turning 30 in January. How do you want to celebrate?”

  “That’s a while from now, I haven’t thought about it..”

  “Well think about it!” you laughed, “I know the season will be like in ‘full swing’ or whatever, but maybe we can do something during Bye Week? It’s a big year you know?”

  “Yeah, another year older..” he sighed and slumped next to you on the couch, “I’m getting to be an oldie. I’ll be vintage soon...”

  “Oh stop,” you nudged, “vintage? I have a hard time thinking you’ll ever be vintage. It’s just a birthday. If you don’t want to celebrate it, we don’t have to. But I’ll have you know, men get sexier as they age.” you said, moving towards him to kiss his neck, “It’s actually very annoying.” He kissed you back

  “I’ll think about it,” he smiled and you tucked yourself into his side, “but for right now, let’s figure out something to watch.” As the two of you settled in and started some action movie you were sure you wouldn’t pay attention to, you caught yourself looking up at Tyler for the billionth time, “what?” he laughed

  “What?” you responded

  “I can feel you staring at me,” he continued, still not returning your gaze, “do I have something on my face?”

  “No,” you smiled, “I just like looking at you.” When he finally looked at you, your stomach filled with butterflies and you felt the need to bury your head in his chest; looking back up at him just in time to see his smile stretch across his face.

  “I like looking at you too.” He said, leaning his head down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. You reveled in it for a minute before finally saying anything

  “I’ll never get tired of that” you giggled and he smiled against your lips before continuing to kiss you.

xx

Tyler’s P.O.V

  You hated that you couldn’t be with (Y/N) and the dogs on your birthday again this year, especially because things seemed to be going so well, so you figured out a way for her to be with you in

  “Boston?” she said, a hint of confusion in her voice over the phone

  “That’s where we’ll be on my birthday,” you replied, “there are some great spots though.”

  “I went once,” she said, nonchalantly, “it was beautiful. But I mean.. Bruins fans run rampant” she laughed and you knew then that she would meet you there.

  “So you’ll be there?” you asked

  “If I get to see you, I’ll be wherever you ask.” You could hear her smile over the phone and your smile grew in return

  “Good,” you laughed, “I’ll see you in a couple days. Love you”

  “Love you, too.” You ended the call only to turn around to your teammates waiting to chirp you

  “Ooooh, Tyler and (Y/N) sittin’ in a tree,” they started, “k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes love, then comes marr--”

  “Alright, alright. That’s enough guys.” They laughed and you smiled as you found your way back to your seat beside Rads and Jamie.

  “She’s coming to spend your birthday with you? That’s sweet” Jamie said

  “Well...” you hesitated, “I’m thinking of proposing to her!”

  “On your birthday?” Jamie asked and Rads gave you a sideways glance

  “Yeah...” you answered, “I mean we’ll already be out to dinner and I love her, so..”

  “You think you’re ready?” Rads asked and you took a second to answer

  “Yeah”

  “What if she says no? Then your birthday is like forever tainted by that” Jamie challenged

  “It’s still my birthday, it won’t be tainted. Forever.”

  “She’s a great girl and you seem really happy with her,” Rads interrupted, “I like her and I like her for you. But just make sure, if you feel weird about it, don’t do it.” You took a second to think about what he was saying but you couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d be in that moment and what the rest of your life would look like with her.

 “Thanks Rads,” you finally said, “it’s alright though. I want her in my lie forever. I can’t imagine a day without her there.”

xx

  You showed up at the Boston airport and waited for instructions from Tyler when he sent you a text with directions to his hotel

  “Am I suppose to get my own room or find my way to yours?” you replied as you got into the cab and told the driver the address

  “Don’t worry, I got you a room but it’s close to mine” he said

  “Sounds good, it’s under my name?”

  “Yes. I’m heading to practice, so I won’t be there when you check in but I’ll call you when I’m out. I made reservations at 6 so you’ll have to be ready”

  “What kind of place is it? What if I didn’t pack anything fancy?”

  “I have something for you. I’m always prepared”

  “Well you’re lucky. I figured you might do something like this so I brought a dress”

  “Thinking ahead, I like it” he joked and you rolled your eyes

  “I have to or you’ll get me something wayyyy too revealing”

  “The amount of revealing it would be is debatable.” You let him go after that by sending him an eye roll GIF and he sent back a laughing emoji. A couple hours later, you started getting ready for whatever Tyler had planned, deciding whether you should curl or straighten your hair when he called you

  “Hey babe,” he said happily, “you almost ready? I’m just about to jump in the shower so I wanted to check in”

  “I’m almost ready. I’ll be ready by the time you’re out of the shower so I could meet you in yo-”

  “NO” he blurted out, “I want to pick you up.”

  “Fine,” you laughed, “I’ll be ready soon. Go take your shower, I love you.”

xx

Tyler’s P.O.V.

  You finished getting ready, making sure to do a quick pep talk to yourself in the mirror.

  “You got this dude. You love her, she loves you.” You smiled and made sure you had everything you needed, careful not to forget the ring, and headed over to (Y/N)’s room.

  “Just a second!” she called after you knocked on her door, fidgeting with your suit jacket while you waited. When she opened the door, your mouth dropped at the sight of her in a beautiful blue dress and she smiled before spinning around for you to get a complete look at the outfit, “what do you think?”

  “You look.. stunning,” you smiled, “guess it’s a good thing I didn’t pack anything for you isn’t it?” She smiled to herself, shaking her head as she grabbed her purse. The two of you laughed and she took your hand as the two of you headed to the car.

  “What do you have planned?” she asked as she put on some music

  “A nice dinner, I’ll take you to some of my favourite places in the city,” you said, intertwining your fingers with hers to kiss the back of her head, “nothing too crazy.” She smiled at you and tried, the whole way to the restaurant, to guess where you were taking her or what you were planning. You pulled up in front of the restaurant and a valet opened her door

 “Oooh,” you smiled as you heard her speak to the valet, “isn’t this fancy?” You met her on the sidewalk, thanking the valet and tipping him before taking (Y/N)’s hand to go inside. When she sat down, she browsed the menu and you tried not to give away how nervous you were about what you had planned for later in the night.

  “Anything look good?” you asked about the menu

  “Still looking..” she smiled. You ordered her favourite drink when the server came by to grab your orders, “ahh I get it” she said as the server left

  “What?” you said suddenly

  “You’re trying to be ‘the big man’ tonight. Coming to a fancy restaurant with valets, ordering my favourite drink,” she smiled and you let out a sigh, “who you trynna impress, Seguin?”

  “Only you,” you answered, “always you.” The rest of the meal was filled with smiles from both of you; you watched as her eyes lit up when she talked about her job, her smile shine when you talked about how you felt about the team and the way the season was going and listened to her laugh that you couldn’t imagine not hearing everyday. You kept Rads’ words in the back of your head though, ‘just make sure, if you feel weird about it, don’t do it.’

  “Would you like a dessert menu?” the server asked when he noticed there was a break in the conversation. You were prepared for her to say no, or to defer to you, but instead she said yes and that was the moment you knew she was comfortable with you. It was a small moment, a small thing, but it made everything so much clearer. You paid the bill and thanked the staff, guiding (Y/N) out to the car by placing your hand on the small of her back. You took her to the aquarium and watched her eyes follow the fish and tried to catch her as she chased the manta rays before eventually stopping in front of the shark tank.

  “We may be slightly overdressed for this place” you laughed, noticing the stares the two of you were getting

  “Do you ever wonder what they’re thinking?” she said, completely ignoring your statement

  “What?” you asked

  “Like are they sad? Do they know where they are? Do they wonder where their friends are? Or their families? Do they like it here? Are they happy?” You smiled at her thought process, “did you know that Sharks adapt to fit their environment? So like if there was a Great White Shark here, it would only grow to fit comfortably in the tank but in the ocean it would grow much bigger. That’s why you hear of like 30ft sharks.” She finished, eyebrows raised when she looked at you and you smiled while your eyes danced between hers.

  “Is any of that actually true?” you asked and she smiled at you

  “I don’t know,” she confessed, “it could be. It sounds like it should be, doesn’t it?” She grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours and continued walking, “and,” she added, “who cares if we’re overdressed.” She winked at you, as if to say ‘I’m always paying attention,’ and you shared the smile that she gave you. There was one last place you wanted to go before it got dark and it was the perfect spot for the proposal. A park with a beautiful river running through and a clear view of the Boston skyline. Sure, it was public but it wasn’t overly crowded so it had just enough of people for (Y/N) to have at least one picture of the proposal without feeling overwhelmed.

  “Wow, Ty,” she said lightly, “this place is beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.” She smiled at you and, with her hair blowing in the wind and the sun beginning to set, you knew it was the perfect time.

xx

  “(Y/N),” Tyler said when your back was turned, “I need to get this out so don’t say anything until I’m finished okay?” You giggled at his statement but slowly turned around to face him, surprised when you saw him on one knee

  “Ty, what are you doing?” you said

  “I love you,” he started and your eyes grew wide, “ When we first met, I was so focused on being the best for Dallas, to start fresh after Boston, that you were just some girl. I didn’t think of you really that way, until I saw you with James; I just wanted to see you happy because you deserved that, I just hated that it had to be with him. But now here we are, having chosen each other after all the crap we’ve been through. Together and apart. I know we’ve had some rough times but you’ve always been the person I want to be with. The one I want to wake up next to. Every time we’re apart, whether I’m on the road or your visiting Chris in Calgary, I feel like I’m missing something because I am. You. You’re my favourite part of me and I can’t imagine a day without you. (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), will you marry me?” You stood in front of Tyler for a few minutes, in a state of shock that left you silent when you noticed a few people start to huddle around you and Tyler, who hadn’t moved at all

  “Yes” you whispered, a smile starting to grow on your face

  “What?” he said jokingly, a smile dancing on his lips

  “Of course I’ll marry you!” you exclaimed and he slid the ring on your finger before picking you up and kissing you, you breaking the kiss only to laugh at the round of applause the two of you got. He put you down and waved to the crowd as you buried yourself in his chest out of embarrassment.

  “I love you”

  “I love you too,” you said, tucking yourself into his side while the two of you continued to walk through the park, “I can’t believe you actually proposed.”

  “Why?” he asked, in fake shock

  “I don’t know.. I guess I just never thought you were the marrying kind” you admitted

  “I wasn’t,” he said, kissing the top of your head, “until you.”

  “Well, happy birthday Mr. Seguin” you joked

  “Thank you,” he replied, “and thank you for saying ‘yes’ on my birthday. The guys were convinced that if you said no it would’ve tainted the day forever”

  “I’m surprised you did it on your birthday. I mean, the guys are right. It’s a risk.” You laughed and he shrugged his shoulders

  “It was worth it.”

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

J.I.L.

Roomies for Too Damn Long

Summary: They can’t take her to the Avengers, so Steve has another idea.

Word Count: 1823 words

-.-.-.-.-

Washington D.C – April 5th, 2014

Jeneva didn’t realize how much she missed until she found herself in a car, driving somewhere in D.C. She had missed driving. She missed the feel of the sun on her skin and how obnoxious busybodies in the streets could actually be. Isolation for so long truly made her forget what was normal.

“Forgive moi, but ain’t the Avengers located up in New York?” It only made sense for her to stay there. There would be constant supervision for an ex-prisoner, access to their resources – it would make sense.

“We aren’t going to the Compound.”

Jeneva looks away from the window, catching Steve’s eyes in the rearview mirror. There was pain there. Worry about his decisions. She chuckled. “They don’t know.” Slumping in her seat, she crossed her arms and watched what little reactions she could get out of the man. “Y’have a weird dynamic wit’ your amis, chere.”

“Tony wouldn’t exactly encourage this sort of thing,” Sam told her, looking at her from the passenger seat.

“Why would he? He doesn’t have anyt’in’ t’gain from it.” She looked back at Steve. “So what? Hookin’ moi up wit’ an apartment?”

The two shared a look before Steve turned down a road. Up ahead, she could see an apartment complex. Most likely, where she would be staying. “Something like that.”

---

“And this is your room,” Sam told her, opening the door. Jeneva stepped inside. The room was a basic guest room. Nothing too extravagant which she preferred anyway. And there was even a desk with a laptop. Setting the file next to it, she looked back to the doorway.

There, Sam and Steve crowded looking almost like proud parents. Almost. It was mostly Sam.

“Uh…merci,” she said, chuckling at that proud grin on his face. “So this is y’all’s…brilliant arrangement?”

“It’s temporary. Once you find Bucky, you can do whatever you want,” Steve told her, pushing himself off the doorway. She watched him walk away before looking at Sam.

“Charmin’.”

“Cut him some slack. Bucky’s that one guy who means everything to him,” Sam explained, leaning against the doorway. “And our last time with the guy, he wasn’t in his right frame of mind.”

“Yeah, no shit.” She hesitated, glancing at the bed before looking at him. “Are y’comfortable wit’ this? I know the whole t’ing is Steve’s idea, but I’m not goin’ t’impose just t’fulfill our deal.”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t mind. Besides, having a roommate for a couple weeks could be fun.”

---

July 4th, 2014

Jeneva blamed Sam for her difficulty in finding Barnes. She had no doubt in her mind that he managed to jinx her. He just had to say two weeks. Well, two turned into three. Then a month. And so on because that’s how time works.

“Baise-moi,” she snapped, kicking the blankets and paperwork that surrounded her. The blankets fell to the floor as the papers flew into the air, quickly finding a home on the carpet. She rest her elbows on her crossed legs, massaging her temples. She just wanted to find him. The sooner that happened, the sooner she could go on with her life.

But it was hard to focus with so much static in the air. The lights flickered, shutting off and finally giving her a sense of peace.

“Jeneva!”

It was nice while it lasted.

She looked up as the door swung open. “Hiya, Sammy.”

“We talked about you shutting off the electricity, Jen.” The first time she’d done it, her glowing, cat-like eyes had scared the crap out of him, but he quickly got used to it. The problem was her eyes were the only thing about this situation that he got used to.

Jeneva grimaced. A couple seconds passed and the lights came back on, earning a sigh of relief. He was about to turn to go, knowing she preferred her space, but then he noticed her…well, everything. The mess on the floor, how she was hunched in a disaster of a bed, and the fact that her body language screamed, “Fuck the world.”

“Come on.”

She looked up as he gestured to the living room. “What?”

“I ordered pizza and I’m about to watch that John Wick movie.” Gesturing to her, he explained, “You look like you could use some unnecessary violence.”

“That’s how you’re celebratin’ July fourt’? Really?”

Sam shrugged. “I’m interesting like that.”

Jeneva sighed. “Look, Sam, y’don’t have t’be nice t’moi – “

“I know. But sometimes walking away from a thing actually helps you solve it faster. So get off your ass and watch a movie with me.”

Jeneva groaned but couldn’t bring herself to argue. Crawling out of the bed, she let him shove her out of the room like a mother hen. “There’s alcohol with the movie, right?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

-.-.-.-

March 10th, 2015

“Why is it taking so long?”

Jeneva winced as she heard Steve’s voice from the living room. She didn’t blame him for being frustrated. It had been a long time since they saved her from the Raft and she had nothing to show for her work. She’d gone out a couple times – to New York in case Bucky wanted to relive his childhood. To the middle of nowhere USA in case he wanted off the grid. The thing was, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he kept moving, never staying in one place for long. It made sense at least.

“Steve, you’re having her find a guy nicknamed ‘the ghost’. Cut her some slack.”

There was silence. A small huff. “I know. I do – I understand that. I just…”

“I know. But you haven’t been here. That girl is pouring over every little bit of information she can get her hands on. When she isn’t asleep, she’s looking for him. Her time is invested in this and she wasn’t bullshitting you when she said she’d find him. Barnes is just really good at hiding.”

She looked up at the map on her wall. Little pins of various colors showed where she could possibly find him. Based off his history with HYDRA, she had very little reason to believe he was still in the United States. Her gaze shifted to Europe. It would make sense. He had spent most of his time there.

Maybe it was time to shift her tactics.

-.-.-.-.-

April 14th, 2016

“You have some of the worst ideas.”

Jeneva rolled her eyes as she took a sip of the coffee in hand. Sure, maybe taking a couple visits to Europe was a little extreme. Especially when they had nothing to go off as to where Bucky could be, but she was running out of options. She didn’t want to be sent back to the Raft and, while Sam promised Steve would never do that, she had been at the hands of people making promises.

And she’d been at the hands of those people when they were angry.

“I t’ink y’the only person that would call Italy a bad idea, chere,” she teased as she looked down the streets. Her energy had taken a dip, so he had recommended stopping for caffeine. She could already feel herself buzzing from it, but of course the enjoyment was short lived when she heard Sam complain again.

“You realize that the only reason we were able to do this is because you have a plane, right?”

“’Ey, y’the one that helped moi get it and my ot’er shit out o’ storage.”

“Believe me, I might be regretting that.”

She smirked. “Liar.”

Sam didn’t say anything, sticking close to her as they abandoned their empty cups and went back to work. “I don’t know how you came up with this and thought it was a good idea, Sparky.”

“Better than stayin’ cooped up in that apartment and gettin’ no good or bad results. Just a lot of empty answers.”

“But what made you think Italy?”

“One o’the assignments he was given,” she muttered absentmindedly, recalling the politician the Winter Soldier had been assigned to kill.

Silence fell for a while. Both of them knew that this was a lost cause. Three days of scouring small towns, places that would make sense for him to be hiding.

And still they found nothing.

“Jen,” Sam finally spoke again.

She huffed, jumping slightly when she felt his hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, I know.”

“We’re going to find him,” Sam assured her, having absolute faith in her abilities. Jeneva was too stubborn for him to think she’d fail. “But I think it’s safe to say that we can cross Italy off the list.”

Glancing at him, she ran a hand through her tangled mess of hair. He watched the slight tick of her jaw and how that gold in her eyes flickered. Her frustration was a little obvious. “Let’s just get out o’ here.”

Sam looped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her gently. “You got it.”

“And Sam,” she asked, looking up at him. “’Appy birt’day.”

He snorted. “Don’t get all mushy on me now.”

-.-.-.-.-.-

June 22, 2016

Jeneva’s eyes were glued to her phone, brow furrowed. It didn’t make sense. She’d been studying this man’s file, hunting him down for two years. There was no way he bombed the Vienna International Centre. Right? She couldn’t have been that oblivious to him.

But then her screen lit up, showing Sam’s face covered in birthday cake.

She swiped to answer, holding the phone to her ear and looking around. Maybe the press was wrong. It wouldn’t exactly be the first time. “Sam?”

“Hey, you saw?”

Jeneva huffed. “Kinda hard t’miss.”

“Please, tell me you aren’t out looking for him.”

Jeneva shrugged. “Wasn’t gonna waste a trip t’Romania.” She smiled at a little girl who was admiring the wild curls in Jeneva’s hair, giving her a small wave before the kid ran off to catch up with her mom.

“Jen!”

“It’s not hurtin’ anyone,” she muttered.

“He bombed the UN meeting.”

“I don’t t’ink so.” She walked backwards, rolling her eyes as he kept going on and on about her risking her life. “Sammy, chill. ‘M a mutant. What could happen?”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she had accidentally bumped into someone. As she spun around, she heard a soft ‘sorry’. She looked up, catching a glimpse of the man hiding underneath the baseball cap. Before she even had the opportunity to apologize, to say that it truly was her fault, he was already moving. And she was amazed.

She blinked as he crossed the street, looking both ways. There was no way it happened that easily.

“Hey, Sparky, you there?”

Jeneva swallowed, finally realizing that Sam was still talking to her. “Y’wouldn’t believe what just happened,” she murmured, watching as the man she had been searching for for two years purchased a newspaper. Something so simple.

“What?”

“I found him.”

[unravelling-the-world]

random thoughts related to kagepro (tw for depression?? death?? suicide ?? implied ?? im not sure and idk what else read at ur own risk)

well idk lately ive been thinking a lot and ik ive uh always (? since i can remember?) have been depressed (i mean...it started around age 12...i dont really remember much before that. most of what i remember are bad moments anyways. or very specific scenes. but they dont feel mine. if that makes sense. its like remembering the scene from a movie.  back on track i guess idk well lately ive realized i actually kin some characters and lately ive...been relating a lot to shintaro kisaragi fromkagepro. i mean its ok. there´s always been that specific similarity in us (after all, how many characters in anime are as related to coca cola as shintaro //and me,,im literally a coca cola addict lmao// well anyways. after some days, this lead me to thinking...to a hidden memory within my brain, i guess. I remember introducing my then best friends, to kagepro. one told me haha he´s like u bc the coca cola!! and i think i just laughed and smiled? i truly didn´t see it? i was sad sure, but i couldnt really relate to him. after all, i was the leader of my own little group of 12 year old weebs,right? (i was also 12 btw) i didnt personally dislike shintaro but i didnt rly see myself in him yknow? also i have loved ayano from ever since i have memory so idk like she´s one of my biggest comfort characters and its weird bc if she was ´´real´´ idk if i could date her or anything but im just glad she exists bc it somehow comforts me a lot yeah anyways ayano essay for another time lol. anyways at this age my favorite characters in kagepro were ayano and konoha ( i still love them a lot) thing is, at this point in my life i didnt know/wasnt aware i was transgender but i already kinda liked he/him pronouns so i roleplayed a lot. online. i roleplayed as konoha obviously lmao and actually one of my irl friends related to shintaro ?? and i think we may have roleplayed lmao and stuff.... she even had a facebook account named shin hikkikomori or smth like that. anyways fast forward bc after being 12 a lot of stuff happened obviously. and none of that relates to kagepro until quite some time. i will mention some items that dont really relate to kagepro but marked moments in my friend group that may be relevant later on. Around 2016)? Some of my closest friends changed schools (but we kept contact) yet i still had a big group at school. But it got fragmented along the way. 2017 i went to Japan and formed a new, different friend group with people that even today, are dear to me. When i came back, my friend group fragmented more. I kept contact with other members of the old group but one on one, not as a group anymore. 2018 we graduated, and i broke up my realtionship with one of my former best friends (2016-2018) 2019 was a year of change, and even though i was afraid and shit got weird, i was not doing too bad. i will skip that. Well. Im sure we all know 2020 was a trainwreck, shit happened. i had a villain arc. I lost my shit,definetely. Ups, downs, whatever. 2021 has not been too different. However, even through everything, in early 2020, i kept close relationships with my friend group. as the year moved forward and the restrictions started lifting ( thank you government very cool <3 //ironically obviously, this is the reason this shit wont go away//) some of my friends saw each other irl and stuff, or talked about stuff i didn´t understand/didn´t want to hear while on discord. I felt alienated. I felt empty. I got mad at a friend for the first time, for something he said. I ended up isolating myself. A friend celebrated her birthday. She invited me and never excluded me, asked me a lot of things and asked to virtually include me. But that would just make me feel more alienated, wouldn´t it? I told her it was ok, i didn´t go. Honestly, I felt like a bother. I didn´t want to bother. I wasn´t okay, but i didn´t want to bother anyone, so i isolated myself. I had a very bad breakdown. lasted weeks. When I recovered, it wasn´t the same. It felt like everyone else was closer, while i drifted away. I kind of recconected with some of my friends from Japan after this. In the vacations, i felt like i reconnected with some friends just to drift away again later. However, i never could reconnect with one of my best friends. She never really got mad at me or anything ( i think) but we don´t really talk much anymore. We used to talk daily, be it actual talking, memes, anything. I don´t think we´ve actually talked in weeks. There´s nothing I can do. This year, another friend had a birthday, but I was so disconnected from everyone I didn´t even care. I mean. It´s all broken now, isn´t it? The other day I just started wondering. When did I start relating to Shintaro so much? I had always been like this, hadn´t I? Who am I, actually? Why do I relate so much now? It´s not just about the soda. I had lost friends before, but I never really felt like that. Sometimes I feel like I´ve lost everyone. In a one year span I became a hikkikomori. About a month ago, when I entered classes, I was recognized as Shintaro pfp and I admitted to kinning him to people i´d never talked to before (on chat) // I decided to go apeshit idc anymore about what anyone thinks of me// I had fun. I think I must´ve posted on my stories, because two different people told me they were the ene to my shintaro. I appreciated it. i mean it´s kinda true bc now that i´m only on the pc they do bother me online and try to get me to open up or get better but sometimes the just annoy me lmao but also not bc they all have their own particular lives and they all seem to be doing better than me. Still, my classmates are very nice and inclusive. But it´s not like im close to any of them I guess. I´m just alone now. I´m fucked up man....I don´t feel real anymore. I don´t really know who I am. I guess that´s why I find comfort in seeing a part of myself in Shintaro? But when did i turn out like this? Why didn´t I relate when I was younger? Well, I hadn´t really lost any friends back then. I now know how painful that is. How lonely it is to be alone even when there is people around. idk. and i´ve always been quiet. introverted. shy. a loser. yet now whenever i meet anyone i try to idk connect? but i cant. i wish i could be more evil. maybe it´d just be easier if everyone really, truly hated me. maybe i´d get the strength to actually kill myself then. it´s weird. i really see myself in route xx shintaro. I know that´s fucked up because I know how it ends. but truly, i was trying. I was healing, i think i was going somewhere. and i was trying to keep my newly formed renovated friend group together. I really was trying to. I didn´t mind if we had sub groups on the big group, but we were all there for each other. I tried my best. I felt like i belonged. but now im alone again. and this time there´s nothing i can do. if something, i´ve made it worse. and i keep making it worse. it´s weird. when i first got into kagepro, both shintaro and ayano felt like adults. i thought they were really, really big. im older than them now. now i know theyre not really adults. i get it. i still feel 18. after all, these last two years have been taken away from me. i didnt waste them myself this time.  i feel like a rotten 18 year old...when i listen to lost time memory, i just...get it. i always liked the song. i thought the story was so cool. when it first came out.. i still remember. iwas there. i waited for it. i loved it. i still do, but back then, i just saw it all as some really great and cool song. now i feel like i really, really get it. i love it even more. im hiding away in all my memories. but what is my true heart? what do i really want? i don´t know, i don´t know... If I'm 'wise' then, I can't face forward; I have no reason to so, I'll rot away instead It would be nice if time could be turned back. Years may pass but I'll never die I repeat hopeful words to myself, even though I know I still won't be able to reach you. "It doesn't matter, just die already!" I said as I clutched my wrist, simply cursing it. Unable to do anything, I merely indulged myself in life. "If summer can show me dreams, then let's go to before you were taken away" The days where I hid my embarrassment are illuminating upon the atmosphere and burning my mind. If I'm wishing for a dream that can't come true, then I'll embrace this blurry past and have a dream which I don't wake up from and naturally seclude myself from the outside world. "But that means you can't even see tomorrow?" I don't really care 'bout that, so it's ok I stained my hands in order to kill these boring days I'm choosing "solitude" after all A rotten boy at 18 today too, prayed again while clinging on to your colored smile Underneath the blazing sun Asking "Somehow, please take me away instead of leaving like this!" and my murmuring breath was quietly stopped

I guess i just wish someone could actually help me. take me out of this hole. Maybe some kind of closure would be nice. It´s not the same, though. I don´t have enough bravery in myself to actually kill myself. Mostly because of guilt. I can´t take the guilt of dissapointing everyone. I don´t want my parents to get hurt. I don´t want my bunny to miss me. Yet i wish everyday for it to be over. Lately, half of my dreams have been in Japan, with many friends, some who i met there, some who have never been there. Yet my brain shows me the dreams before it was all taken away. I think one of my favorite parts of the day is dreaming. I like to sleep simply because I dream. And i sleep very few. mayb bc i hate myself? I still barely indulge in life. I do anything to stay distracted. If i think, it all goes to shit. it all does. like now. Heh. it´s funny. I guess no one is truly my ene, because no one actually knows how mentally fucked up i got these past months. No one knows how badly i´ve been treating myself and how badly i´ve been doing. Still, i can´t tell anyone but scream it into the tumblr void. No one has to keep up with my shit. No one has to take care of me. After all, it was I who chose solitude. It was me who kept them away. But I don´t get a second choice. I don´t get a change of routes if things go sour. And i guess I don´t get to get a mentally fucked up friend group where I belong for a second time. Once was good enough, wasn´t it? I.. Even when I wasnt as deep as i am now (again) into kagepro, ive always wanted to die on August 15. It holds meaning to me now as well. Every year I used to ask people to go out with me that day. I know im not brave enough to kill myself. I always hoped for a lil miracle i guess. Last year was the first year...I didn´t do anything. I just... I just hope this year i can make it. I hope the miracle happens this year....I can only hope......its too late for me to be saved, isn´t it? I never thought it´d be like this. I don´t get closure. I don´t get goodbyes. I am left behind on a world that keeps moving. I am nothing.

[goodguydotmp3]

hi i came across ur answer about harry/his music, there was this -- "I also really hate that one song that Zayn did with Usher and Chris Brown, because you have these awful men completely misunderstanding what it means to write a love song, and then you have Zayn at the very end all like “actually I really am in love tho…” I thought the same bcz his verse is so different & feels like it doesn't fit can you explain more about it if you'd like plz? thanks :)

SO I had to re-listen to the song for this ask and it was just as uncomfortable as the first time <3

Alright lets break this down.

I. General Feel

Okay so this song is. It’s just not a good song let me put it like that. It’s an pop R&B song, obviously meant to be at the very least sexy. You have three men that are known for their sexy pop/R&B lyics and/or songs, and somehow two of them forgot how to be sexy? make it make sense. Where is the romance? the ambiance? the vulnerability? No not like that Chris Brown. 

And yes there were three other writers, but that just means there is even less of an excuse for this nonsense. It literally makes my skin crawl.

II. Lyrics

Girl bye. 

a. Usher, what is you doing? He starts off the verse with

Come and ride on me like the waves I flip the pages 'cause I wrote the book On the way how to sex you up, sex you up We can do it like I'm on the stage, we'll have an audience Baby, I'll show you the way that I sex you up

When I tell you I could fucking scream. Who let Usher Raymond do this? I want names, phone numbers, and addresses. 

This sounds juvenile. If someone rapped this over a Nitti Beat back in 2012 I would have thought this was fire. That’s how fucking childish this is. This can’t be the same man you used to sing stuff like “if you didn’t know you’re the only thing that’s on my mind, cause the way i’m starin at you makes me wanna give it to you all night” or “I’ve been waiting all day to wrap my hands around your waist and kiss your face” or “I’ll get you hot I know you oh so well”. now are those groundbreaking lyrics? No. But they sound leagues better then whatever the hell he was doing here, Especially in context, especially when he sung them but I wanna talk about that later.

Next point of contention is:

Or I can lick you up and down 'til you say You love how I eat on that pussy You just might go put a tat' on that pussy That says Usher, Usher There's no other, other (Yeah!) Damn girl, yeah, you got that juicy Love when I make you cum, I make it gushy One without the other I'm the champion lover, lover Fuck you to sleep, wake you up again (Oh) I go so deep, beat it up again (Oh) Girl, come and sit on my tongue again 'Cause I love to taste you, yeah

Would someone be so kind as to let me know when 2010 lil Jon possesed Usher? Or maybe it was 2008 Lil Wayne? 2012 Pitbull? Either way, 2016 Usher just aint got it like. Truly if this was being rapped in a club with the bass all the way up and the melody loud enough that you couldn’t hear it, I would be like “ okay maybe horny people wanna shake they ass” but this is supposed to be sexy? Who is this seducing????? Are they okay? Can they name the current President? How many fingers am I holding up?

Last of his verse is what really gets me heated like

I can tell you been eating your pineapples (Mmm) Girl, your pussy taste like pineapples (Oh) Girl, when I hit your G, you feel like you gon' pee Baby, cum for me

First off, pussy taste like pussy you fucking coward. Second, stop god modding you clearly don’t know all that if you still think pussy taste like pineapples. And this is that immaturity coming back into play I feel like, who is this song for? Not adults. Not like this.  I feel like I can’t over emphasize that this man had been putting out original music for 26 years. 26! Not only are your fans too old for this nonsense, but you should be a master song writer! I know this song came out in 2016 but that’s still over 20 years of experience.

b. Chris Brown

Huh, now where you been? It's been a year Baby, I ain't seen you, you know I miss you (Oh, woah) Baby, let me love you back to sleep once more And I know we don't speak no more (Oh) But I just wanna tell you I'm sorry (Hey!) For fucking 'round with Keisha and MaKayla (Huh) For all the Georgia peaches in Decatur For all these bitches in the elevator I just want you to love me (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, baby, don't test me (Huh), you know I'll do it You want me to say your name, girl? Okay, Karrueche

I Just

What...praytell...is sexy or romantic about...anything said there.

See this is what I was talking about in my other post, He completely misunderstands what it means to white a love song , but more than that, to be vulnerable. Saying you’re a cheating whore and begging for forgiveness in this manner is not actually apologizing for your actions, it’s just airing your dirty laundry. 

If he wants to do that then fine I guess?? But I feel like he wasn't. Like, the idea totally reminds me of Charlene, Wherein Anthony Hamilton name drops his lover and begs her to come back to him. The thing about Hamilton’s song is that he doesn’t sound like a manipulative ass for one. Hamilton makes it clear there were several places he knows he fell short in the relationship, and in the end, he doesn’t make it out to be a callout post, but he does let her know that he intends to wait for her should she come back, and then promises to change his behavior. This is not that at all. When Beyoncé and Alicia Keys said Say you love me and  Put it in a Love Song, This is not what they meant.

ALSO DON’T REFER TO WOMEN AS BITCHES

c. Zayn

Baby, just stay comfortable, I want you as you are Baby, just lay there naked waiting for me Let's not get emotional, let's be who we are Can we do that? Can we do that? Can we? Know it's been a long day, it's 'bout to be a long night So keep your eyes closed 'til I roll through So, baby, when you're feeling like a woman in the sheets Somebody splitting your knees, don't worry that's me I'm over here putting work in Baby, you ain't gotta tell me what you want

Am I Floored? No. Is this his best work? Also no. Is it a helluva lot better than whatever the fuck Usher and Chris B thought they were doing here? Hell yes. The vulnerability! The pleading! The fucked up headspace! This verse has it all!

III. The way the song is sung

terribly Let me start there. Wtf was usher trying to do here. The lyrics were chringy, and so was the delivery. It felt choppy as hell. Like who is fucking to this? Asking for a friend. WHo is aroused by an usher vulva tat 

we need to have words.

second Chis Brown sounds like a whiney piss baby I really hope no one actually paid for that song thinking they were getting a sexy R&B hit and got that.

Zayn sounds fine on this song, like the tone is overall bittersweet, but it matches the lyrics.

okay the last thing I want to talk about is the chorus. after hearing the verses It really doesn’t match. It’s a really basic premise I feel and Usher and CB felt like they were on another song in between the chorus. Like In Sex Room, Ludacris talks a really big game, and the chorus is really simple, but It’s literally all about what he plans to do in said “Sex room”, Usher like someone told him he was gonna be singing a sex song and then went back and put a line that tied to the song at the last minute if that makes sense?

and then CB....okay.

The last thing I wanna say about Chris Brown is I actually listened to the original song, thinking maybe the original was also trash. No actually? It’s not the best, not even by Chris B standards but its not bad like?? Who let him but out this remix monstrosity?

Anyway, I actually have a Sexy R&B playlist if you’re looking for something...better. Don’t get me wrong, they aren’t all romantic, but they’re damn sure sexy, and way better that wtf this song has going on