#but I’ve ’gotten over’ the fear of being seen as a fraud | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kojinnie · 4 years ago

Text

Why you should NOT date AOT boys... (2)

I advised you but you still didn’t listen just because your fave was not on the first part. So hereby I present to you, reasons why these boys will only give you headache, part two!

Enjoy my lovelies, and stop hurting yourself with these men!

Regards,

Your ever-so-concerned friend, Kojin.

erwin - zeke - jean - connie

part one here (levi - eren - armin - reiner)

— ERWIN

This is not gonna be easy. You’re dealing with a man who has received multitude of achievements and recognition for being who he is and for doing things his own way, so obviously he is at that point in his life where he’s very comfortable in being who he already is. It’s all for a reason though, for Erwin oozes a certain kind of authority that is justified by his sharp thinking and years of experience. He is a self-made man and his success was the work of nobody but his own doing. So obviously, he has this uncanny self-assurance that is not easy to be dissuaded. He is ”The Man” character you hear about in pop songs and movies, and alike to dating Levi, the idea of being with Erwin gives you a sense of pride, you’ll be the most flattered whenever you hear people look at you with certain kind of acknowledgment, “Oh, that’s the one Erwin chooses.”

If you have problem with your self-esteem or you constantly doubt yourself, being with Erwin –especially when you have an established relationship— can really encourage you, to make you realize that there is a great thing in you, that even someone with the caliber of Erwin Smith can see. However, this may also lead to a bad thing because little by little, whether you realize it or not, your identity will be blurred with the constant presence of Erwin around you, simply because he has that magnificence in him that lures the limelight in, and your name will only be left as a prop to better dress the mannequin. This is a man who hardly ever hears “no” in his life, although he will never be violent or do things against your wish, it feels natural for him to always have a say in whatever you do. From the way you dress, your career trajectory, to decision for everyday chore. You would often feel as if you have no room to grow on your own because everything is decided by Erwin, where your opinion is dismissed. The most infuriating aspect of Erwin is that he will do all the aforementioned in such a sweet way. Caressing your cheek, patting your head softly before condescendingly says things like: “Honey, if you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you’ll understand. So for now, let’s just go with [insert his decision], okay?”

The ideal relationship for you and Erwin is if you have been with him since the get-go, before he made a name for himself. The good thing about Erwin is that he values nurture and he will show the utmost gratitude to whomever stood by him since day one. He will flaunt you, mention your name in every awarding speech, praise your perseverance for staying with him while actively making your own mark in your job. Basically, to survive a healthy and thriving romantic relationship with Erwin, you gotta see the quality in him before all the flashy titles, and you gotta be at similar degree of excellence with him. You gotta have his respect, you gotta make a name for yourself, only then he will listen to you and treat you as equal. So if you are still unsure about yourself, and you need constant reassurance about your role in this world, don’t go for Erwin, it will only exacerbate your self-doubt.

— ZEKE

Good god, this man. Where do I start? Okay, so you’re dealing with someone similar to Erwin, who enjoys a point in his life where his professional excellence has been widely established, he even has attained an almost mythical status. Remember how much the Warriors look up to him, saying things like “The enemies are no match to Zeke”? That’s basically his everyday life, and he has gotten so used to hearing that drilled into his ears for years.

For sure, he has a solid self-assurance; he knows what he wants, he knows how to get it, and anyone’s opinion holds very little value to him. But unlike Erwin, Zeke has grown sick of the compliment and has come to think that people are just licking his ass. This is because he made his success with little to no help from anyone else, and he has seen how differently people treated him back when he was just a nameless guy, compared to now, where he has made a name for himself. This experience, created a contradiction in his personality: One, the confident and self-assured Zeke, where he realizes that he’s smarter than most people, and; Two, the self-doubting Zeke, thinking that he is deemed as smart just because everyone comparable to him is stupid. He fears that it’s only until he meets someone smarter than him, before people finally realize that he’s a fraud. He’s the type to spew seemingly condescending remarks in a very casual way, like whenever someone comes to him in an awe and asks how does he do the things he does, he will just shrug it off and say, “I don’t know why everyone’s making a big deal out of that. It’s so easy.” When actually it’s just him, displaying his incomprehension on what make people think that he’s amazing when he hardly sees it.

Zeke leads a life where he thinks he can do whatever he wants, since he does not have a care in the world for anyone’s opinion and validation. This is because Zeke thinks either they are unworthy of his attention, or any person who has ever shown any interest towards him was only after something for themselves. In his early life, Zeke gets used a lot by people he trusted, and so this resulted in him not believing that someone would come to him and truly care for him with no pretense or hidden motives. The idea that he can be loved unconditionally is incredibly foreign, if not impossible to him. And this is the truth about him that he does not like to admit.

This is a person whose motto is to “enjoy things” because the enjoyment of things keeps him distracted from the disappointment he holds against people. So naturally, he does not like sentimental attachment, let alone committed relationship. What Zeke needs is just someone that he can ring up casually (and only occasionally because he’s always kept up with a lot of his professional endeavors), and spoil him with nearly childish affection. He likes to come home to someone who does not see him as this heroic figure that everybody sees, and rather just a careless kid who collects baseball cards with no active parent figure. He likes the cuddles, the kisses, the strokes, the lazy mornings where you pamper him like a demanding baby, because he never gets to experience such candid loving from his childhood, for he had to fend for himself since very young.

He likes to call you up late at night, with a sulk in his voice, “Baby can I come over…?” for you to act annoyed and reluctantly say yes to him. He likes that. He’s corny like that. But once he’s out the door, don’t expect him to text his whereabout or make your name known to the world, because he cannot afford such dire attachment. He’s as free as the bird, and after all, caging him into a committal relationship only justifies his belief that someone would only love him because they’re after something.

— JEAN

Jean is tenacity personified. He wasn’t born talented or lucky enough to have special heritage runs in his blood, he is flawed with a lot of shortcomings, but what makes him stands out is his capability to persevere in the eyes of adversity. To keep on trying although he does not pass the initial mark, and that’s exactly what makes him special. In dating Jean, you will never run out of things to do or talk about, because Jean will always try to make the best out of every situation with his resourcefulness. It’s very nourishing to see someone make such a big effort for you, and if you lack assurance that someone would go extra miles for you, then seeing Jean breaks his back trying to catch your smile is such a sight that you will cherish for a long time.

However, deep inside, Jean is a very exhausted man. He often feels like he is at the end of his wit trying to make everything works. He is deeply wearied by having to be at his top game every minute to compete, and fears that if his grasp slips even just a little, he will quickly fall behind everyone. This will result in Jean being torn apart between work and you, for he always has the urge to put tenfold effort to match others’ casual effort. So expect a lot of calls unanswered and rescheduled date nights during the weekdays. Although he feels extremely regretful with this condition, he also believes that there is nothing he can do, for he thinks he was born unfortunate and this is the effort he has to make due in order to catch up with the others.

All this unhealthy sense of urgency from always having the need to compete often sends Jean into a state of paranoia. He fears that people may team up against him, or that he’s being left out. It’s really frustrating to see Jean having the need to reply to a stupid meme Eren sends at 4 AM while getting high, just because Jean fears that if he does not reply immediately, he will wake up the next day with people already talking about the things he missed. He is always on guard, and as much as he tries to give in to his relationship with you, sometimes you would feel like his mind is not at home. His mind is out there wondering whether he will ever make a name for himself without being compared to people who exerts considerably less effort than him.

Being with Jean, you gotta understand where his fear lies, and you gotta be very calm when dealing with all of his paranoid urges. Whenever he’s not home because he overworks himself, don’t bombard him with calls and text messages, just give him time and welcome him home with warmth and a sense of ease. Be the person where he puts his hair down after a whole day of gruesome work. Jean needs a lot of validation especially from the person he loves (and he feels guilty towards for seemingly neglecting you over work), all he needs to hear is just “You did well today”, and he would be more than thankful. Make time as well to give him little surprise, to make him realizes that you are the one place he does not need to compete with anyone else for you are his home. When it comes to Jean, it’s about give and take, he doesn’t do well with a diva who demands attention 24/7, nor he does well with someone who is seemingly way over his league, for it will worsen his insecurity.

Point is, Jean is an amazing man, guys, I couldn’t really point out why you should NOT date him, because in fact, you SHOULD date him. Being with him is a learning curve, not only for you but also for him, to understand that in a relationship not only that you gotta love, but also to compromise.

— CONNIE

Connie, oh Connie. We all love Connie, he’s the guy who would complete a picture, a party is a bore without the sight of him, we all just love us some Connie, but often to his expense. People love Connie because he is outgoing, humble, and has this salt-of-the-earth persona, but more often than not, people also use him as a comedic relief, and although at first, he enjoys it because he would like the idea that people look forward to him, sometimes it also takes a toll in him, it makes Connie wonder whether he will ever be fit for bigger purpose other than someone else’s humor.

Connie thrives in being helpful to other people, he believes being of service is his greatest merit and thus he never complains whenever someone asks him to do something, nor does he ever dislike doing things for other people. But often he wonders even after all the great services he has done to other people, why haven’t people seen him as more than just a comedic relief? Why can’t he be the hero of a story, instead of just the people’s favorite side character? This thought lingers a lot in his mind, and if he does not find a way to let it out somehow, this may grow into a bitterness for he feels used.

Make no mistake though, Connie does not yearn to have the limelight on his own, he is content with his position, all he needs is a bit of credit and affirmation that he is as important his other peers. That he is not overlooked nor that he is expendable. Without this, Connie might grow to become resentful of people as he thinks they will only use him to their advantages. He will get easily jealous or at high alert, just because you passingly joke about Jean being handsome with his new haircut. He may go into that rabbit hole of anxiety, waiting until the day when you finally leave him for being mediocre and opt for his more attractive friend.

When this side of him comes out, initially he will be overtly self-deprecating. Masking it as a joke just to fish a reaction from you. If you laugh along, not knowing that it was a test, he will be sure that you are just using him and it won’t be long until you depart for someone with more load than him. Once he sets his mind, he can be quite vindictive to you, casually assuming you of the worst while trying to pass it as a joke. When this side of Connie comes out, the last thing you should do is to get riled up. Connie is not being rational, so you gotta be the adult here unfortunately. You gotta shower him with a lot of affection in the form of services like he’s always do to people around him, and slowly work your way to the topic you are meaning to ask. Connie might be alluding the question for a while, until he finally comes clean that he was jealous and did not know how to properly address this feeling.

Being with Connie comes with the responsibility of making a home for him where finally he gets to be the center attention. He is not a narcissist, so he does not want everything to center around him. All he wanna be is to be seen, in which every effort he has made to the people he loves are being outwardly recognized and thanked for. Little things would really make Connie happy, like posting a lot of photos with him on your social media, or arranging surprise birthday party with his co-workers where he can finally experience what it feels like to be the likes of Eren or Jean.

Thank you guys for all the likes, reblogs and comments - YOU ALL MAKE MY DAY. I was on the verge of being sure that no one would like things I write, but this.. This... (wails in telenovela style). I thank you and I wish you a great week ahead!

Guys for real if you still simp these guys even after this fair warning then I have no choice but to give you a personalized reason on why you should not date your fave AOT characters!

> [CLOSED] Twisted Match-Up! Send me three worst traits of yours + your AOT fave character and I’ll make you a short scenario on how shitty your relationship would be with them. Fire away here!

#aot headcanons #erwin headcanons #zeke headcan #jean headcanons #connie headcanons #erwin smith #zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #connie springer #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk headcanons #aot #snk #kojin writes

300 notes · View notes

abybweisse · 4 years ago

Text

Ch172, Let’s look at Lau again, too

⚠️ Very long post!

What is he up to?!

I mean, yeah. He’s the Jester archetype, so I shouldn’t be too surprised, but it’s nerve-wracking, all the same.

His main gimmick is saying deep, dark, knowledgeable things (which are probably not a joke at all)... and then giving a well-timed pause... to then play the fool who knows nothing. I could give so many examples, but if you read the manga, you already know exactly what I’m talking about. He’s pulled that running gag almost half a dozen times by now.

I think he’s drawing from his own private experiences, mostly, it’s just that they fit so well with what’s going on, in that moment, that it’s unnerving to our earl, Sebastian, and anyone else present to hear it. Then it hits hard that he apparently doesn’t know what’s going on in the here and now. But the reader gets the distinct impression that he has had terrible experiences that parallel our earl’s enough and that he might also know way more about what’s going on than he pretends. His words might be entirely about himself, and he might be oblivious to the subject at hand. But I don’t think so. He’s pretty damn observant for someone who keeps his eyes closed most of the time. Plus, he’s an informant.

He couldn’t give our earl warnings about Haku and Owl, if he didn’t pay close attention to current events. And he acts hella-fast on the information he has. Somehow gets word about Haku’s assassination plans and has some knowledge about Owl? Sends a warning (by letter) while en route by ship so fast that it arrives at Phantomhive Manor before he can even make landfall in England. Finds out the truth about Mina and Harold? Sends Ran-Mao after them. Knows the Yard is after our earl and company? Locates them almost immediately and shows up in time to thwart the Yard’s manhunt. If Ran-Mao is his “cat”, then who TF are his “little birdies”? 🤨 Seriously, who are his own informants? Who are his messengers? Who needs Claude when you’ve got Lau in the center of his own web? It will be very interesting to learn (if we ever do) the extent of that network. Is it spies all over the place? Is it a handful of trusted people, like the girls at his opium den? Is it... just Ran-Mao? 🤷🏻‍♀️

But this all just makes him fit the Jester archetype even more, because that character is often burdened with extensive and heavy knowledge, and this behavior is a lighthearted way to portion out that knowledge or serious observations to other characters, as well as to the reader. This role gives them an easier way to break the fourth wall, for example. Though I haven’t noticed any examples of him doing that. This is also the archetype that needs to be entertained, otherwise they will lose interest and get bored. We know Lau has even told our earl how he’s motivated to stick around as long as it’s interesting and entertaining for him.

Similarly, Lau has done some hella scary and intimidating things... and then made light of them. Does it even matter to him whether Sebastian can survive the swords through the wardrobe “trick”? Either he knows Sebastian isn’t human and will be okay... or he doesn’t know and doesn’t particularly care. Are Harold West and Mina actually alive or dead? Acupuncture needles used as weapons and kept in your sleeves... are still weapons. He’s probably never even used them for medical purposes. There is a wild recklessness and ruthlessness about him, and the only times I’ve seen him so much as flinch are: 1. When he goes to Undertaker’s funeral parlor. Because Undertaker is scary even when he’s serving tea and offering biscuits... and 2. When Ada and her staff bust in with hazmat suits and spray Lau and Bard down with sanitizers. And strip them bare. And shave... everything. ✨ This is when you know he’s actually surprised.

I know the post is already long, but now it’s time to talk about what he’s doing in ch172. I’m breaking down every panel I noticed him in.

Why Chang, other than the fact it’s another common Chinese name?

This is a good excuse for when the staff finds his acupuncture needles, since I’m sure he brought them with him. Idk if they will return them to him. Possibly, even though he won’t be assigned to treat “Mr. Burgh”. We will have to see who calls him out on his tattoos and when. Someone might decide it’s best to hold onto his “Chinese medicine” supplies.

Qigong.

He can think on the spot, since they didn’t expect to be separated like this.

Bringing “Mr. Burgh’s” family’s wishes into this is a smart idea.

But then he does THIS. 🤦🏻‍♀️ I cannot imagine Lau saying this without realizing what he’s saying.

And he starts to walk out, instead of backing up his previous excuse that he needs to stay because of his client’s sensitivity and his family’s “strong request”.

Where was he going to go, once he got out the door? Sit in the waiting room... snoop around (good luck!)... leave the facility?

The feathers are a bit campy, but it does emphasize the “softness” of the interaction, even if it’s just an act.

Is it 💯 an act? I mean, it is an act. However, there might be a part of Lau that actually feels sorry for Bard, a part of him that sympathizes and knows what it’s like to survive combat while friends (or family) die. I feel as though Lau has extended such kindness to someone else in the past. Ran-Mao? Someone else? Who knows. At this point, it’s merely a feeling I have, since we know so little about his own hardships. But he had the, of that I’m sure....

As cute as many will surely find this image, this is some tense “we are either golden or about to die any moment” shit, right here.

They cling to each other not just in the hope of making this look real... but also possibly with their legit fear of being called out as frauds.

And they hold this pose until they are certain they have gotten their way. Bard with determination and fear on his face. Lau with a look of caring and concern. If you were to replace Bard with someone personally dear to Lau, this would not look odd at all.

I also want to point out that Lau has his eyes open here. It lends credibility to his seriousness. In a way that the sanatorium staff cannot understand. But we know he’s not to be messed with when his eyes are open. To the staff, it might just denote a level of protectiveness. Maybe even a silent plea.

This might be the first time we have seen Lau speak in Chinese. We’ve seen Ran-Mao do it a few times. Given the circumstances, it’s probably fine. It might even help convey a feeling of genuine gratitude.

Here’s a close-up of their facial expressions when they both simply say “Yes”. Bard is still being quite serious. Lau has completely lost the gravity he was displaying a very brief moment ago.

But then Lau completely drops the doctor persona and talks (with eyes open) about them barely making it through this. There, he’s seriously relieved they passed this test.

Closing his eyes again, Lau openly says “master cook” and “acting”! Says he had no plan on how to come back if he had left the room! If I were Bard, I’d want to punch him, too.

I think Lau is seriously scrutinizing this young nurse, Layla, and coming up with an assessment of her. Then he goes from serious to chipper. Gives a big smile. Says nothing is wrong. What does he really think about her?

The last thing he says to Layla reminds me of what Sebastian said to Arthur about taking care of our earl....

I am reminded of the cover page for ch170, and I still can’t make heads or tails of his ultimate goals. The ones that led him all the way to England, where he expects to use whatever means to reach whatever ends.

And I cannot get it out of my head, what the historical Ronald Knox said about not including a “Chinaman” in your detective fiction. It’s one of his “Ten Commandments of Detective Fiction”. Yana-san already broke all ten, in some way or other.

Will Lau turn out to be a Fu Manchu character? We already know he was ruthless in his rise up the ladder of Qīng Bāng. We just don’t have the details. What’s he willing to do now to achieve his ultimate goals?

😬

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #lau #jester #archetypes #character analysis #ch172 #motives #modus operandi #observation #fu manchu #historical ronald knox #ten commandments of detective fiction #qing bang #long post #long reads #jan 18 2021

27 notes · View notes

phroyd · 4 years ago

Link

Joe Biden is going to be the next president of the United States. He will be inaugurated on January 20 and take power at noon that day. There is nothing, legally, that Trump can do to stop that.

What Trump and his feckless Republican Party might do illegally to try to overturn the results of the election and prevent Biden from taking power is a different matter. Trump has evidently intimidated the administrator of the General Services Administration into refusing to acknowledge Biden’s victory and thus prevent his team from starting the transition process. Only a smattering of Republicans have acknowledged that Biden won, and most of those who have, like George W. Bush, no longer hold any political power. Trump has already filed a raft of baseless lawsuits. His people are drumming up talk of some kind of Electoral College devilry to overthrow the popular will. And Trump fired the secretary of defense, Mike Esper, yesterday, which seems like the kind of thing one does before launching a coup d’état.

Years of watching Democrats snatch defeat from the jaws of victory gives many the sinking feeling that “it’s happening, again.” But rational thought tells us that these Trump gambits, all of them, are pointless. Biden won and his ascension to power is now inevitable, whether Trump accedes to that reality or not. As a wise man once sang: Gravity always wins.

Still, we’ve all seen Trump wriggle out of approximately a billion other defeats and scandals. He’s exposed the weakness of our democratic institutions, revealing just how useless they are in the face of his norm-breaking assaults. So it feels somehow naive to believe that his loss at the ballot box will translate into his loss of an actual job. It feels smart to consider that he might have a secret plan to retain that job, despite being voted out of it. Trump is the Michael Myers of our politics: He can’t be defeated, because the horror movie franchise makes too much money to ever end.

And yet, despite all this, I have gone to bed every night since Friday confident that President-elect Biden will become President Biden. I’ve come to this peace over the objection of my amygdala, which is the part of the brain that screams in fear and anxiety and tries to overpower rational thought. Here’s what I tell myself in order to help me sleep at night. Perhaps these are conversations others can have to achieve my level of forced serenity. (Amygdala in bold italics.)

Who won the election?

Joe Biden.

Who won the election if we only count legal votes?

Only legal votes are being counted. Joe Biden won those.

What about the possibility of a recount in swing states like Michigan or Pennsylvania?

Recounts traditionally do not change more than a thousand votes. Even if we’ve gone completely through the looking glass and this recount changes an unprecedented number of votes, like 5,000, which is completely unheard of, Biden’s margin of victory is too great to overcome. A recount would not change the result in states like Arizona, Georgia, Michigan, Nevada, Pennsylvania, or Wisconsin. If Trump wants to lose twice, that’s up to him.

What about all the lawsuits, especially the ones they keep filing in Arizona and Pennsylvania?

Trump’s election lawsuits fall, broadly, into three categories: lawsuits alleging poll watchers were too far away, lawsuits complaining about the established rules for submitting mail-in ballots, and lawsuits alleging Trump voters were denied their vote because of some kind of ballot machine malfunction.

None of these lawsuits provide evidence of massive voter fraud. None of the lawsuits provide evidence of voter fraud at all. Some of the lawsuits allege some accidents, but the remedy for those accidents is counting more votes, not fewer. Trump’s claims that his poll watchers were not allowed to watch the counting of mail-in ballots in Pennsylvania is flatly untrue, and his lawyers have had to admit in court that they were allowed in the room. They’ve been reduced to arguing that their poll watchers were not close enough, which, whatever. The remedy for that is to move them closer, not throw out tens of thousands of votes.

In fact, none of the Trump lawsuits allege anything that can be used to throw out tens of thousands of votes. Throwing out votes that have already been counted is not something that courts do. We can recount votes, this time with Trump watchers breathing down the necks of ballot counters and giving them Covid-19, but again, recounts don’t usually change the balance of votes by all that much.

The important thing to ask with each new Trump lawsuit is this: What is the remedy? If the remedy is “throw away tens of thousands of votes from people whose votes were clear in their choice and timely in their submission,” then that lawsuit is going nowhere. And if the remedy is not throwing out those entirely timely and legal votes, then the lawsuit will not change the results of the election.

Why would the Trump people be pushing these lawsuits if there was no chance for them to change the outcome?

Because Trump people are dumb? Hanlon’s Razor tells us: “Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.”

Joking aside, there might be many malicious reasons for the Trump campaign to be pushing lawsuits they know are destined to fail. Stirring up doubt in Biden’s victory is a prelude to refusing to acknowledge his authority as president. Trump, or one of his kids, or somebody “Trump-approved” is surely going to run for president in 2024, and making Trump’s rabid, white-supremacist base feel like the election was “stolen” from them has a political upside as they fight for their new “Lost Cause.”

And, there’s also the grift. Trump’s campaign is broke. They’ve literally written checks they can’t cash. Trump doesn’t like spending his own money on these things (to the extent he actually has any). These lawsuits purportedly challenging the election are a huge money-making opportunity for the Trump campaign. If you read the fine print on the new fundraising e-mails Trump’s campaign is sending out to supporters, they say that “60 percent of contributions” will go toward retiring campaign debt.

Would the Trump campaign put America through 70 days of trauma to make a buck? You better believe it. The whole Trump presidency is a guerrilla marketing campaign for the Trump brand that went too far.

But the Republican Senate is going along. This is just like impeachment. Republicans wouldn’t remove Trump then and they won’t now.

Well, it’s not up to Republicans to remove Trump from office. The Constitution does all that work on January 20. Joe Biden is the president on that day whether Republicans acknowledge it or not.

But now Bill Barr has gotten in on the game, and he is the worst of Trump’s henchman.

Yes.

He’s given federal prosecutors the green light to open up investigations into possible voter fraud.

So?

SO?

There wasn’t election fraud. Trump’s legal team has no evidence of election fraud and has no money to investigate to find such evidence, so they’re using the taxpayers’ money to look for it. But Barr’s prosecutors won’t find anything because there’s nothing there. This is going to turn out the same way it did when Barr investigated but didn’t arrest Hunter or Joe Biden.

The head of the Election Crimes Branch, Richard Pilger, resigned. That should tell us how wrong this is. But Barr is not going to succeeded. It’s just another thing to remember in 70 days when Barr is out of a job. We should arrest him and charge him with abuse of power.

What if Trump refuses to leave the White House?

Biden can be president from Delaware until the White House runs out of cheeseburgers. He’ll come out of hiding eventually.

But what if Republicans never acknowledged that Biden is the president?

How’s that different from the way they treated Barack Obama?

Good point, but what about a re-vote? I’ve seen MAGA people online calling for a re-vote.

Re-voting is not a thing. There is no statutory or constitutional language that can compel a nationwide re-vote. States will certify the results of their elections in the coming weeks. And then the Electoral College will meet on December 14 in a pro-forma session to…

WHAT ABOUT THE ELECTORAL COLLEGE?

Damn it.

Can Republican state legislatures put forward a slate of electors who will vote for Trump even though Biden won those states?

Let’s be very clear: The states get to choose how they will determine their own electors, but that determination has to be made before the election. A state with a Republican legislature—let’s say, Pennsylvania—could have decided to choose electors based on a simple vote of the legislature. In fact, Republican legislators contemplated doing such a thing. But they didn’t. Instead they decided, like every other state, to let the popular will in their state determine the slate of electors.

They can’t change the method of picking electors after the election has taken place. Remember, when voters showed up to vote, they technically weren’t voting for “Joe Biden” or “Donald Trump” but for a slate of electors who would vote for Biden or Trump. If Pennsylvania wanted to change those rules, it would have had to tell its voters before they voted. It can’t run a bait-and-switch on an election. It can’t say that a vote for Biden’s electors was actually a vote for the Pennsylvania legislature to choose the electors. This is an election, not a Groupon.

The only legal recourse, which some Republicans are arguing for, is to determine that the voters “failed to make a choice” on which slate of electors to nominate, or that the results of that choice are somehow unclear. But the results will be clear once Pennsylvania certifies its election results (and, in this case, the governor and secretary of state, who certifies the results, are Democrats). It will be a close election, but voters made a choice and that choice will be clear upon certification.

States have until December 8 to certify the results of their elections.

But what if Pennsylvania’s Republican legislators insist that the results weren’t clear? Would the Supreme Court’s conservative supermajority allow the state’s Republican legislature to choose a Republican slate of electors, even though it’s unconstitutional?

Maybe? Conservatives on the Supreme Court act in bad faith all the time. But consider that Biden has likely won this election with 306 electoral votes. For this gambit to work, legislatures in Pennsylvania and at least two of the other states Biden won would have to submit a slate of Trump electors. The Supreme Court would have to OK this upending of the popular will three times in total. That’s incredibly unlikely and would spark almost immediate civil unrest directed right at the Supreme Court, which has no army to enforce its rulings.

Well, what’s our plan for that?

My dude, I don’t have a plan for “nothing matters anymore.” The end of democratic self-government is not a thing one has a legal plan for. That’s like asking what my plan is for closing a demonic hell mouth that opens in my backyard. Die. My plan would be to die. I’m not Keanu Reeves.

What if Trump fires FBI Director Chris Wray and CIA Director Gina Haspel and gets the “deep state” to keep him in power indefinitely?

I’m not Kiefer Sutherland either. I cannot find the mole.

What if Trump launches a full-scale coup d’état and uses the military to keep him in power?

Then we’re at war. Honestly, what do you want from me? Yes, there is a non-zero chance that Trump’s refusal to accept the results of the election leads to a civil war and, in such a conflict, Abigail Spanberger forms a Vichy government to “compromise” with Trump supporters, and I have to pilot a jet carrying Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez off of Naboo in hopes of finding friendly Jedis willing to fight for our cause.

But there is no legitimate way for Trump to stay in power now. There’s no peaceful way for Trump to stay in power. Either he’s gone on January 20 or he remains atop a military junta willing to use violence to enforce his will.

This makes you feel better?

I find it comforting that a full-scale military takeover is now the only way for Trump to stay in power. Because if there’s one thing I know about Trump, it’s that he is a coward. President Bone Spurs is not the guy to cross the Rubicon.

I look at it this way: Captain von Trapp hiked his enormous family over the Alps to get away; all I have to do is drive my people to the Thousand Islands Bridge while we all sing “Edelweiss.” Thinking much beyond that is pointless.

Well, you could get your lazy ass on the elliptical trainer in case you’re needed to fight.

Don’t start this with me again. Goodbye.

Phroyd

#the nation #trump #election2020 #biden

26 notes · View notes

rosequartzakapinkdiamond · 5 years ago

Text

Everything’s Fine

you know what got me the most about ‘Everything’s Fine’? this scene:

‘I’m a fraud.’

on god, i felt that

when you’re mentally ill, abused, neuro-divergent, or have had anything different in the way you think, you CONSTANTLY feel like you’re masking, like you have to wear this facade to stay included, or loved, or safe, until you’re so far down that hole you don't know how to get out, so you deny its even happening, and you work yourself up inside with all this self-hatred, after all you’re lying to people, and you begin to believe deep down that you’re not good anymore. that you polluted yourself. and so everything in you wants to pretend its not real, and the cyclical facade continues.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m fine, awesome in fact! Ah- c’mon, you’ve seen me when I wasn’t doing well. Nothing’s wrong, and besides, I don't want you to worry.’

Steven is deflecting, trying to draw attention away from his problems so the others won’t fret about him, because worry leads to scrutiny, which leads to concern, and then he could burst, everything he’s tried to prove, tried to show as true, is all going to shatter. he’s so, so used to being the one who catches the other in a trust fall, he doesn’t know how to lean back himself, so when faking doesn’t work, he immediately tries to remove himself from the situation.

‘It’s not that easy! You know what, I don’t have to deal with this!’

if he’s not in the room, the atmosphere can’t follow, he can find somewhere safe and far, and calm down, but this doesn't work. its another attempt at deflecting, and neither Pearl, Amethyst or Connie allow it, they know he needs to talk it out before they can help

and so now, the lies begin to come out, and oh god it hurt to watch. ive been exactly where Steven is and hoo boy sucks, because you instantly try to dumb it down as a protection measure, despite how it feels to lie further. throughout the show we’ve seen how much Steven values the Gems’ opinions of him, Connie and Greg too, as early on as ‘Laser Light Cannon’ he’s desperate to show he isn’t a liability. he’s taught himself to not be a problem, to not cause problems, so he can stay included and helpful, and help them get better instead. its just so much easier to focus on other people over yourself. its distracting, it’s comfortable.

‘Hahaa... It wasn’t that important you guys! You’re making a big deal out of nothing! Have I done some thing wrong? Sure! I trashed the house today, I broke an anvil, but what teenager hasn’t? Dad and I had a little disagreement, but that’s practically a rite of passage! I mean, it would be weird if we didn’t, right?’

he’s still looking for their approval, their assurance that it’s not a problem, repercussions can go away, and everything can just go back to normal, but you can see in their faces, they’re angry, and this only spurs on his deflecting, because now he’s faced with rejection, again. so he tries to assure himself that it’s just the everyday teen problems, nothing to make an issue out of, because that’s too raw to think about, I mean, Connie's had disagreements with her parents right, that’s the same?? right?

‘And maybe I’ve had a not-so-nice thought or two, about, like, slamming White Diamond’s head through a pillar, but, but, it’s not like I actually went through with it! Ha, I-- I only actually shattered Jasper!’

and what’s horrible is it’s almost a satisfying feeling at first, technically he succeeded!! he got away with it, and doesn’t that make him smart, or capable of coping, or maybe he’s getting better!!! he could’ve done those horrible things, but its okay! he fixed them, or they weren’t as bad as they sound, or, or, or--

ive done plenty of damaging impulse things thanks to my mental illness and neuro-divergency, and ive had exactly the same script. you try so hard to make it seem like the problem isn't as large because really, you know what you did was bad, or stupid, or dark. but you still did it, you couldn’t just stop yourself. you still made the mistake and now you want to move past it as quick and as painlessly as possible, but doing so puts other things in jeopardy and means telling other people, and that’s scary. you can’t avoid letting people know about your problems, but what Steven’s struggling with is that he’s on a completely different page to the Gems, Connie and Greg. he’s had all this time dwelling on these thoughts-- he’s several chapters in, but they’ve only just picked up the book, so no wonder they’re shocked and horrified to read the blurb. these thoughts of inflicting harm, whether it be or others or otherwise, are dark, so who wouldn’t be shocked?

so Steven immediately deflects again. he pushes himself to sound positive, so desperate for the facade of normality, that it borders on unstable, as he overcompensates for this fear of criticism

‘Oh! Don’t worry, I fixed that too! I can fix anything! I can just keep messing up and fixing things forever and you’ll never have to think or know about any of it!’

it’s because they had no idea there was anything wrong that cemented this idea in Steven that he had to keep hiding, because what they didn't know couldn’t hurt them, right, and he’s Steven! he fixes things! if you’re always deemed as perfect, any flaw can’t be shown, right? any fall and you’re out, you’re not a crystal gem anymore and you can’t go on missions or hang out with Connie or protect anymore, protect the town, protect the earth, so you hide, and you can go on, self-sabotaging and hiding and stressing, without anyone knowing a thing.

but you know. you know well, too well, and eventually everything crumbles whether Steven wanted to ever acknowledge it or not. it just became too much for one person to hold.

‘How messed up is that? That I’ve gotten away with this for so long? You have no idea how bad I am!’

what strikes me about this too is ‘gotten away with this’ and ‘you have no idea how bad I am’. cannot tell you how many times ive said these phrases word for word in therapy and i almost screamed at my computer when I heard him say it, because that’s EXACTLY how it feels. you’re acting. the whole time you’re acting in self-preservation because of this all consuming anxiety of failure, and its always in your head and hey, you know its BAD-bad, even if they don’t notice, or ask, because you’re absolutely not going to tell. he already tried, remember, and they brushed him off, so nope, no, their fault.

so now Steven’s faced with actually looking at what exactly he’s done and how no one noticed. how not one of them thought to have this conversation with him before, did they not care? did they not see him? did not one of them wonder why Jasper just appeared suddenly out of their bathroom, at the least? could they not bother to try to reach him?

but it’s not a matter of them not loving him, or seeing him. it’s that they didn’t listen in the right way to understand him. Connie’s speech in the following episode sets it out perfectly

‘Yes, you hurt him, but this isn’t the time to make this all about you! That is not helping! Maybe Steven would care about how sad you are, because he always puts everyone else’s feelings first, but he can’t do that for you right now, because he needs us this time!’

she acknowledges that they needed to hear Steven, especially when he wasn’t laying out exactly what was wrong, because he didn’t know what was up either (the dude has only been to the doctor once, he doesn’t know what c-ptsd is, let alone anxiety or depression), and because they should, as adults, realise that while their actions and feelings do matter, it cannot be at Steven’s detriment. his venting to Garnet, and to Greg, in ‘Together Forever’ and ‘Mr Universe’ wasn't an opportunity for them to give him advice or lay their own experiences on top, it was a chance for them to really listen to, and really hear, what Steven was telling them he was feeling and then see that as his truth. no ‘you had it better’, no ‘it was inevitable’, all he needed was ‘I hear you, I love you, let’s fix this together’.

‘We all had Steven when we needed him, but the only person who’s never had Steven, is Steven! So, how can we be there for him now?’

which makes what Steven says next all the more painful, as he’s been holding this role on his shoulders like atlas holds the sky and its breaking him.

‘You think I’m so great, I’m so mature, and I always know what to do, but that's not true! I haven’t learned a thing from my problems. They’ve all just made me worse!’

thus far, Steven’s been taught that every experience is a chance to learn, like in ‘The Test’ (which was another ep that made me go FERAL when i saw it). he’s searching for meaning in all the horrible things that happened to him but sometimes, there is no moral. sometimes things are just that. they’re bad and they hurt you.

‘You think of me as some angel, but I’m not that kid anymore! I’m a fraud. I’m a fraud. I’m a monster!’

when you believe so deeply in yourself that you’re not a good person, it really hurts, especially when the people around you keep reminding you of who you used to be, see the whole of ‘Snow Day’. you feel like a fake, because who exactly are you? who are you without that mask? who is Steven Universe if not the boy who helps? yes, he’s not that kid anymore, but he doesn't want to be this ball of pain either, so what’s left after but to think he’s just ruined? he’s not an angel, he’s not helping anymore, he’s just angry, hurt and lost.

what’s left but a monster?

#can i get an f and a therapist in the chat?#meta #*mine #steven universe #steven universe future #su spoilers #suf spoilers #greg universe #connie maheswaran #garnet #amethyst #pearl #lion #everything's fine #i am my monster #fr tho I felt seen in a sad way #because man alive that shit hurted #I only got semi-diagnosed this year and all they have so far is 'either ADD or somewhere else on the spectrum' which is a good step #but its not far

148 notes · View notes

trillian-anders · 5 years ago

Text

chambers - v

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, angst, slow burn

word count: 3273

description: Post-Endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Very loosely based on the Netflix series of the same name.)

an: a little shorter than the others, but! I just had a hellish weekend at work that’s not quite over yet and writing this between tables makes it a little better so... enjoy loves.

The community center was in Brooklyn, the large brick building housed many different projects. An after school program for kids, a homeless shelter at night, various ‘anonymous’ meetings during the day. This wasn’t like the typical VA. It was very much a hodgepodge group of people brought together by the circumstance of Sam Wilson being a good human being. Sam Wilson was probably one of the kindest people you’ve ever met.

You didn’t belong here, maybe this was a mistake. You were standing very awkwardly off to the side, holding a cheap styrofoam cup of coffee. If anything this dress was definitely a mistake, the button up t-shirt dress you figured was a nice middle ground of looking nice but not trying to look too nice, but everyone else’s jeans and t-shirts made you feel like you should have just worn jeans and a t-shirt. The exception was Sam, who ran the group. He was in a nice button down and slacks, but even Bucky was just in a black t-shirt, jeans and a leather jacket.

You were trying not to think about it.

“Are you going to be okay while we make some rounds?” Sam asked you. The two wanted to leave you momentarily to go and greet people they know, “Grab a drink, we’ll be right back.”

You didn’t belong here. These men and women who actually lived it. You flinched at the memory that plagued you last night. Boot camp. It was rough, but Steve made it through. Not without sore bones and an asthma attack or two. But it wasn’t you.

You feel like a fraud.

You could feel yourself at a different time, a darker room. People who were a little more sad.

After the blip, when everyone came back, the world was a mess. People who had moved on now had their spouses, partners, kids back. Some of them had new kids, had gotten remarried. Others had died during the blip. The accidents caused by disappearing drivers, pilots. People who couldn’t handle the loss. People returning was just as bad as people disappearing. But everyone picked themselves back up a little easier.

There was optimism with loss. Iron Man, Tony Stark. Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff. Captain America, Steve Rogers. They sacrificed their lives in order to save everyone in the entire universe. There were murals of their faces in every borough of New York City. You passed three on your way in.

“This VA is a little different than the one I ran in DC,” Sam said, “But it’s pretty much the same.” There was a mural of their faces in this community center. It made you a little sick. You could almost feel him looking over your shoulder, Steve, hot on your back. Like he was actually there.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Bucky told you as the three of you parked the car, “Get some coffee, eat some snacks. You can just observe.” He was trying hard for you, hand on your back, rubbing slightly to comfort you, but you felt empty when he walked away to talk to a man who was much older. Someone who was almost his actual age, in a wheelchair playing cards with men not much younger than him.

It wasn’t hard to forget that Bucky was supposedly in his hundreds. It was 2025, the guy was 108 years old. He looked to be in his 30s. You felt like you were a hundred, suddenly the coffee wasn’t that bad.

“New here?” A man sidled up next to you, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the metal coffee server next to you. He was handsome, but had the same hollow look in his eyes that you’d often seen in Bucky and Sam. Even Steve. You scraped your fingernail gently against the styrofoam. Nervously you answered,

“Yeah,” You took a sip from your coffee. Fraud. “I’m just here with some friends though,” You explained, gesturing to Sam. “I’m not- I haven’t.” He chuckled, stirring his creamer with one of the wooden stir sticks before studying you.

“It’s okay,” He smiled. Charming. “You don’t have to explain.” His hair looked like it was cut with kitchen scissors, you noticed. Shaggy and reaching around his ears. Five o’clock shadow, motor oil around his nail beds. “I’ve been coming here for about a year now,” He explained. “It gets easier.” Sip of coffee and a sweet smile. “No matter what brought you here.”

“I’m Y/N.” You offered him your hand. He grinned, his teeth were perfectly straight.

“I’m Eric.” His hand was rough and calloused in yours, a shiver went through your body when you noticed he had dimples. “Do you wanna sit by me, maybe?” He gestured over to where Sam and Bucky were setting up the circle of chairs. You looked over at the both of them, who seemed intent on trying to not pay attention to your conversation. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared at Bucky for a moment more, heart aching,

“Sure.”

He refreshed your coffee for you and sat a little too close to make you comfortable. You didn’t notice Bucky and Sam exchange a look, before Bucky decided to sit on the other side of you.

“You okay?” He asked, nudging your arm softly, eyes pointedly glancing at Eric. You nodded silently, giving him a soft smile.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You could tell he felt unsure, shifting down in his seat so he could look at Eric from behind you.

Bucky was unsure about this guy.

“He’s just being friendly,” Sam assured him as they brought out the metal folding chairs from the utility closet. “We left her alone for a while, she obviously was uncomfortable.” Bucky huffed grumpily.

“He’s trying to hit on her.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Relax Buck.” Sam unfolded the papers from his pocket and laid them on the chair he’d be using, “She’s fine.” It didn’t stop him from heavily taking the chair next to yours, leaning back in his seat to examine the guy as he talked, trying to read him and see what he was all about.

“I lost my wife in the field.” He said. Your heart broke, “We were in separate divisions. I’m a marine, she was in the air force.” You could see Bucky shift in his seat. “During the blip she was running drills with a teammate, the plane went down when her teammate blipped.” Eric’s eyes were watery when they met yours, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “I had blipped myself so…” He swallowed harshly. “When I came back… I had nothing to come back to. I always thought if either of us were to die at war it would be me y’know? The air force is typically pretty safe.”

“We were all affected by the blip,” Sam explained, “Some in more ways than others. You’re very brave for sharing that with us.” Bucky grunted next to you and you looked over at him, sunk down in his seat, hands in his jacket pockets, starting ahead at Sam.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered to Eric, placing a hand on his arm. He looked at you with a watery smile.

“I’m trying to move on,” He explained to the group. “It’s been two years since I’ve been back and I think it’s finally time.” The group clapped for him in encouragement.

The air here was tense. Everyone had a story like this, something similar anyway. Sam lost his best friend out in the field. A girl named Ally lost her right leg in Afghanistan. A man named Neil’s daughter died overseas in war, he fought in Vietnam. It was heartbreaking. These people were laying themselves bare, exposing their insecurities and their fears. Their never ending night terrors and crowd anxiety. Slowly, over time, the room became lighter. More relieved.

“You think you’ll be back?” Eric asked you as people were collecting their belongings. You shifted your empty coffee cup between your hands, looking at Bucky behind you.

“Maybe,” You said with a nervous smile.

“We just have to clean up and then we can go if you want,” Bucky interrupted, giving Eric a tight smile before looking at you.

“We can stay if you wanted to play some cards or something?” You offered. Bucky had promised one of the older men from earlier that he would stick around and play a hand or two. He shrugged, looking over at Sam.

“I’m just saying, the first time is kind of intense,” Eric was standing off to the side awkwardly during this exchange where Bucky seemed to be ignoring his presence. “If you wanna go back home we can.” His hand lay comfortingly on your arm.

You shake your head, “No, go ahead. I’ll be fine.” He nodded once, eyes drifting back to Eric’s momentarily before grabbing both of your chairs and walking away.

“Your boyfriend is scary.” Eric laughed nervously.

“Oh he’s not-” You gestured towards Bucky, “He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just like-” You didn’t know how to properly explain it, “Roommates.” Sounds about right.

Relief crossed Eric’s features, “Oh good,” He walked with you back over to the coffee and continued as you poured yourself another cup, “So it wouldn’t be too forward of me to ask you to dinner?” Your hand stilled under the coffee server, looking up at the man beside you.

He was handsome and from what you could tell he was kind. It just wasn’t the right time. You had so much going on. How would you even begin to explain the compound? He had to know who Bucky and Sam were.

“Is that a no?” He chuckled nervously. You sighed and looked down at the black liquid in your cup.

“I’m sorry,” Your eyes met his crestfallen ones, “It’s just…” you looked over at Bucky and Sam, sitting down to join the older men in a game of poker. “I’m recovering from heart surgery and it’s been…a process.” A soft smile broke out on his face,

“Not technically a no… can I at least give you my number?” He offered, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Maybe once you’re a little more out of the process?” You’ve never really dated, having been too sick for most of your life. This could be your chance to go on an honest to god date. Flowers, dinner, everything. You were still so unsure of your feelings. Steve’s and yours mixed all together in this overflowing pot you’d been trying to keep from spilling over.

“Sure,” You pulled your phone out of the pocket of your dress, exchanging numbers with him. He was charming and if that dimple was anything to go by, you could imagine caring about him. Someone that seemed as broken as you felt. Maybe. In a different place, a better life.

“Stay safe out there.” He called as you left to join Sam and Bucky at the poker table.

“You too,” You called back, choosing to pointedly ignore Sam and Bucky’s questioning looks.

“What was that all about?” Sam asked teasingly. A blush spread across your cheeks,

“Nothing.” Bucky was stiff next to you. They dealt you in, a game you’d never played before, but the older man--Louie--assured you he’d help you out. He was wearing his Vietnam veteran hat and he told you that you reminded him of his granddaughter.

“You shouldn’t really be dating right now.” Bucky said later on in the car on the ride home. Sam gave him a side eye,

“Buck, chill.” Sam glanced at you in the rear-view mirror.

“It’s none of your business frankly.” What the fuck? “I told him no.” You pulled your phone from your pocket, sinking down in the back seat.

“I’m just saying,” Bucky shrugged, looking out the car window, “You should be focusing on figuring out whatever is going on with you right now.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” You snapped, glaring at the back of his head. God his hair was shiny. “What is your problem?”

“Yeah, Bucky, what’s your problem?” Sam pulled up to the gate of the compound, scanning a key card to enter. He grumbled in the passenger seat,

“Something’s off about that guy.” He explained to the both of you, “I don’t like him.”

“Something off like what?” You asked angrily, leaning towards the passenger seat. “Him asking me to dinner or him crying about his dead wife?”

“I don’t know yet.” You rolled your eyes, shifting away from him.

“This is just like that time Barbie Goldstien asked me to the Sadie Hawkins instead of you, you literally swore she was doing it to be mean.” You accused. Heart dropping out of your chest practically as you realize what you just said. The car was parked and the three of you sat in a tense silence. No one moved. Your throat was closing up, where did all the air go? Bucky practically ripped the car door off, kicking it open with his foot, leaving it open. He walked four paces away towards the front door before turning and returning to the car, ducking his head back in to stare you down, face enraged,

“She did ask Steve as a prank, I told her to either go with him for real or to fake sick otherwise I was going to tell everyone about her pissing herself in the hallway in the first grade. So my intuition was right.” Car door slammed and he was stomping up to the house, leaving the two of you in a strange silence. You tossed your head back, looking at the sky from the back window of the car, tears welling in your eyes.

“I can never win Sam.” He leaned back against the headrest sighing heavily. “I’m losing what’s me and what is him.” He looked at you from the rearview mirror, you lifted your head to look at him.

“Bucky is never going to be easy.” He explained, “He’s trying.” You know he is. “He’s trying.” Sam repeated again, rubbing his eyes.

You didn’t see either of them for the rest of the night.

“I’m getting better at it,” Wanda said, her powers. Practicing. They were incredible, powerful. She was strong, “I lost a lot of confidence after what happened in Nigeria, but I’ve come a long way since then.” She was lifting things in the gym, both of you in workout gear, she was showing you how easily she could lift heavy objects, but you already knew that. You’ve already seen it. “I try not to use the mind warping unless I actually have to.” She explains. You remember that too. She’d shown you Peggy.

She’d shown Steve, Peggy.

You could almost feel her dress beneath your fingertips, swaying side to side, dancing in your living room. Nat King Cole crooning over the speakers of the record table under the window that faced the rose bushes you’d planted for her, their buds just peeking over the windowsill. A roast was in the oven, it was Sunday.

“I was thinking of taking a Holiday,” She whispered against your chest. “We could go to the beach?” You hummed in contentment,

“We can do that.” You flitted back to the quiet singing coming over the speakers. This is what you wanted wasn’t it? Peggy was in your arms, shield and hammer packed away. For all intents and purposes you were a house husband. Coming out whenever Peggy had something she needed your help with, but for the most part…

You cooked, cleaned, you’d recently been discussing having a child.

Who were you now?

You were just Steve Rogers.

Just Steve.

“Hey,” Wanda was in your line of vision, “You okay?” You hummed,

“Yeah, did I have another seizure?” She shook her head.

“No, you just kind of drifted off, like daydreaming.” Huh. “You had another memory?” Her brow was pinched in concern.

“Yeah,” You shake your head as if clearing a fog. “I did.” You sighed heavily, rolling back to lay down on the mat beneath you, staring at the ceiling.

“What was it about?” She asked, sitting herself next to you.

“Peggy.” You gave her a tense smile. “It’s so strange to love someone—remember someone—in such an intimate way, someone I’ve never known myself… but Steve loved her.” Wanda nodded, hand coming to rub your back soothingly.

“He left all of us for her.” Emotion thick in her voice.

It was hard to remember that Bucky wasn’t the only person that lost Steve. The only person who was devastated by him leaving. He left handprints on all of these people’s lives and just left. “The only selfish thing the guy’s ever done in his life.” Sam told you with a humorless laugh.

No.

Steve’s done a bunch of selfish things.

The accords.

You felt the self-righteousness. The belief in being right. A part of you still staunchly believes you did the right thing, the only thing you could have done. The only thing Steve could have done. But you know that it could have been handled differently.

Steve was clouded by thoughts of Bucky and the need to protect the man who always protected him. Bucky was a good kid. Better than Steve ever was. While Bucky was taking care of his Ma, his sister Becca, and Steve himself, Steve was off getting into fights and trying to illegally enlist in the war he would lose Bucky to.

Bucky was really good at science and math, he liked dancing and music, he loved the movies. He had time for all of those things, when he wasn’t pulling twelve hour shifts at the canary and picking Steve’s sorry ass off the street where his face had found someone’s fists.

You suddenly realized why Bucky looked so tired.

He’s been tired his entire life.

“I can understand why he did it,” Wanda continued, “If I had the chance to have either of them back…” You nodded solemnly, the two of you coming to hold each other in the middle of the gym.

“That’s the thing though right?” You stared over her shoulder, watching Bucky as he entered the gym, eyes catching yours, “If we all got everything we ever wanted the world would probably be a much more terrible place.”

You were trying to sleep when the first text came in,

Eric: Hey, I know this is a little soon and you said you weren’t ready to date, but everyone has time for friends right?

You stared at your phone screen in the dark, thinking about the man you had met earlier in the day. You’ve always felt pretty average. You knew you weren’t ugly, but you wouldn’t exactly compare yourself to Gal Gadot or anything. You’d just never had the time for actual dating. You were born with heart problems, they persisted throughout your entire life getting increasingly worse until you found yourself on the table under a knife getting the heart of a deceased super soldier. In high school, prime dating years, you spent more time in the hospital than in the classroom and you were sickly, pale, always with bags under your eyes and a crushing fatigue.

You’d never been approached like this before.

You’d never been asked on a date before.

You’d never had someone ask you for your number and then text you the same day before.

This was new.

So what are you supposed to do? You stared at your phone screen in the dark, the light from it illuminating your face as you typed out your reply.

Do you want to get coffee sometime?

taglist // @nutellakirb @witch-of-letters @torntaltos @emotionallysalty @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @albinotigerpython @an-lover

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #Avengers #captain america #sebastian stan

350 notes · View notes

thatsaweirdwaytospellundead · 4 years ago

Text

Winter Troupe’s 7th Play: Hotel Compass 3/ 4

In a certain region, in a certain town lies Hotel Compass.

Established over one hundred years ago, the hotel sits far from popular tourist destinations and even the nearest train station. Unfortunately with its poor location, competing hotels have quickly snatched up many potential guests and this once grand hotel has begun to fall into disrepair.

The hotel has also been short staffed for quite some time, forcing the owner, Owari, and manager, Tsuzuki, to perform the majority of the maintenance and upkeep of the hotel. They spend each day tending to the needs of their few, but always eccentric guests.

Characters

Note: The theme of this play is “compass” with all the characters have direction-based names. I have included the character’s names in Kanji along with the double-meaning.

Azuma as Owari (尾張, sounds like “終わり, End”)

Guy as Tsuzuki (津々木, sounds like “続き,Continuation”)

Homare as Higashikawa (東川, East river)

Tasuku as Minami (三波, sounds like “南, South”)

Hisoka as Nishi (西, west)

Tsumugi as Kitami (北見, north view)

Due to the length of this play, I will be posting it in 4 parts.

[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 ]

Owari

Hey, is Mr. Minami alright?

He’s been sitting in the same position at that table for a while now.

I think by now its time to lay down the pen for a bit.

Tsuzuki

Really now...

Owari

Mr. Minami.

Is everything alright?

Minami

That’s it...

Yessss....

It’s all coming to me now...

HUH?

What is it?

Owari

Oh, is there anything we can do for you?

Minami

Some coffee please.

Owari

Right away, sir.

Tsuzuki, if you please.

Tsuzuki

It will be ready right away, sir.

Minami

My brush is flying.

My zest for life is overflowing...

I can still write my novel!

Owari

I am glad to hear that.

Minami

Oh, hey Kuroda!

Owari

...?

Minami

I have finished my rough draft, wanna see?

Hello, hello, Kuroda?

I have finished my rough draft so aren’t you gonna come have a look?

Huh, what? You’re at my house?

Wait, you’re not at the hotel!?

Huh, uh no it’s nothing.

Understood. I’ll email you right away.

Yes, I am alright.

There is no problem at all.

This is going to be my next masterpiece!

Owari

So Mr. Kitami had nothing to do with Mr. Minami after all...

After eavesdropping on Nishi’s story, Minami is suddenly filled with inspiration and begins writing again.

Whilst writing, Minami also feels his will to live flowing back into his body.

Kitami appears and Minami tells him he is finished with his rough draft, however Kitami seems perplexed and simply walks away.

After a phone call with his editor, Kuroda, Minami realises that he had mistaken Kitami for his editor after all.

Owari

Sigh...

Finally some time to catch my breath.

Tsuzuki

Today has sure been eventful.

Owari

I feel like we have had more troubles than we have guests.

Owari: Why does it feel like our hotel is filled with only the most eccentric of guests?

Tsuzuki

Well our hotel is a place for lost travelers to come and rest after all, right?

Owari

Lost travelers, huh?

I feel like I’m the one who’s lost my way.

I’ve been slaving away trying to take care of the hotel that’s been around since my grandfather’s time, but for what?

After my wife and children walked out, I feel as if I have been working my ass off for nothing.

This hotel has been so dead ever since they left.

Does that mean I’ll be the last owner of this hotel?

I should really just quit before it’s too late.

But I don’t think I could bring myself to really do it.

This is the worst.

Well, no use dwelling over it now I guess.

I suppose if things keep going downhill we’ll just have to file for bankruptcy.

Tsuzuki

There are a lot of people that depend on this hotel.

Tsuzuki: If Mr. Minami could get back on his feet, I don’t see a reason why we couldn’t do the same.

Owari

I suppose you’re right.

That evening, Owari takes a moment to catch his breath and take a much needed break. Owari complains that he feels like their hotel has been taken over by only the most eccentric of guests. Tsuzuki tells Owari that their hotel is a place for lost travelers to stay.

Owari confesses to Tsuzuki that he also feels lost. He reveals that his wife and children had all left him some years ago. Owari wonders if he can even continue to keep his grandfather’s hotel open or if he will become the hotel’s last owner. Tsuzuki tells Owari that there are many people that depend on the hotel.

Detective

....

Owari

Welcome.

Detective

We are with the police. Could we have a moment of your time?

Higashikawa

Huh!?

Detective

Have you seen a man who looks like this?

His name is Hashima Ryou.

He is wanted on account of murder.

A man who looked like the suspect was last seen at this hotel.

Owari

Suspected murderer...

I don’t think I have seen anyone that fits that description...

I think I would have remembered if I saw someone with hair like that.

Detective

Some features may look a little different to this image.

Well if you have any leads, please contact us right away.

Owari

Understood.

Higashikawa

By the way...

If they’re looking for someone suspicious maybe that Mr. Kitami has something to do with it.

Owari

Well we just haven’t seen his true face.

.... It does seem suspect.

AH!

Higashikawa

What is it?

Owari

It’s just Mr. Nishi said earlier that one person will disappear from this hotel.

Higashikawa

HUH!?

WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!?

WAS HE ANNOUNCING HIS PLAN TO MURDER SOMEONE!?

Owari

Maybe...

Tsuzuki

What’s going on?

Higashikawa

Big SOS, Tsuzuki!

We have a murderer amongst us! ALLEGEDLY!

Tsuzuki

A murderer you say....

Higashikawa

And on top of that, someone in this hotel is going to die, probably!!!!

Owari

I think you’re overthinking it.

Higashikawa

We need to see Mr. Kitami’s real face!

I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight if we don’t!

Owari

However...

Higashikawa

The police did tell us to tell them if we had any information. We gotta try at least!

Owari

And what will we do if he is the murderer?

Higashikawa

Then I’ll let Tsuzuki take the wheel!

Kitami

....

Higashikawa

Mr. Kitami!

Kitami

Owari

Hey, Higashikawa.

Higashikawa

Sorry to bother you, but we just got a visit from the police. We were wondering if you could take off your mask and--

Kitami

-- AH!!!

Tsuzuki

STOP RIGHT THERE!

Higashikawa

But Tsuzuki!

If we don’t see his real face--

Tsuzuki

There is no need for that.

Because, I am the one the police are looking for.

Higashikawa

HUUUUHH!!!?

Tsuzuki

I apologise for causing trouble.

I will now go turn myself in to the police.

Owari

So you’re saying you really are....?

Kitami

....So we meet at last, Hashima.

Owari

HUH?

Tsuzuki

You are--

Kitami

I am the son of Shimoi, the man you killed.

Tsuzuki

That you are...

I can see it in your face.

Higashikawa

I-Is this some sort of plot to avenge his father!?

Owari

RUN, TSUZUKI!

Kitami

Not at all.

Actually I wanted to give my thanks to Hashima....

Owari

Thanks?

Kitami

My father, Shimoi, was truly the most despicable type of human being.

He was known for committing numerous frauds, blackmail, and extortion, he even was violent towards the rest of our family. He was the type of person who was really just asking to be killed.

I felt so relieved when I heard the news of my father’s death.

It felt as if I was finally released from hell.

Tsuzuki

No one deserves to die.

I am no better than him as I am a man who has also attempted to run from his sins.

Kitami

But you are the one who saved my life.

Tsuzuki

---

Kitami

I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am, Hashima.

Just in case anyone staying at this hotel knew who you were, I made sure to wear a mask so as not to draw any further suspicion. I am truly sorry for all the trouble I have caused.

Tsuzuki

No, the secret would have gotten out eventually.

It is not like I could run forever.

The time has come.

It is a good thing we had this chat.

That evening, the police came to look for a suspected criminal. Owari recalled Nishi’s words and wondered if the two are somehow connected and if Nishi really knew a murder would happen.

Naturally, Owari and company first suspect their masked guest, Kitami. However, when they went to try and apprehend him, Tsuzuki makes a startling confession that he is the murderer. Owari and company are left in shock.

Kitami then removes his mask and reveals that he is the son of the man that Tsuzuki had murdered.

Owari and company tell Tsuzuki to run for fear that Kitami had come to avenge his father. To everyone’s surprise, Kitami tells the group about his father’s awful behavior in life and in fact felt relieved upon hearing news of his father’s death.

Kitami continues to explain that he came to the hotel to thank Tsuzuki for his actions. However, to avoid raising suspicion from the police and others at the hotel, Kitami wore a mask.

To be continued.... Read part 4 here!

#a3 #エースリー #a3! translation #c:citron #play:hotel compass #a3:guy #a3:azuma

5 notes · View notes

silver-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

Bad Liar (Mysterio x Reader)

"Oh, hush, my dear, it's been a difficult year And terrors don't prey on Innocent victims Trust me, darling, trust me darling It's been a loveless year I'm a man of three fears Integrity, faith and Crocodile tears'

- Bad Liar (Imagine Dragons)

Summary: Aiming to live up to her sister’s legacy, a whole lot of trouble is in heading for (Y/n), trouble in the form of a Blue eyed devil.

Word count: 2.9k+

Hahaha guess who came back from the dead ! Me! This is the first part of what I expect will be a miniseries at the least, hopefully you guys enjoy it!

(Y/n) followed behind Fury and Hill, sharp eyes assessing the damage around them in the small Mexican village. Rubble, pieces of broken glass and wood, torn pieces of clothing, the classic aftermath of a tornado.

“This is merely a tragedy, not our kind of problem.” Hill announced, not knowing why there were investigating a natural disaster. “Locals claim the cyclone had a face, now that seems like our kind of problem.” Fury replied to her. Scanning the scene, (Y/n) spotted a young child, no older than ten, sitting on the ground with a bleeding knee and an old lady trying to help him.

Wasting no time, she leapt over the pile of rubble, kneeling down besides the kid and pulling out the small med kit out of her utility belt and helping the kid, completely oblivious to the cape clad hero that appeared out of nowhere.

He recognised her, of course he did, she was a regular face in the Stark Tower. He knew about her comings and goings, she was essentially an Avenger, well, more of a behind the scenes Avenger. Sort of like Black Widow but she operated at a more secretive level.

Seeing her in that Mexican village, his heart rate jumped, fearing that she would recognise him, and he’d be exposed, exposed for the fraud he was.

But it seemed like the stars and heavens were in his favour, and she looked right over him, not recognising him, gun out of the holster faster than he could blink with an intense ferocity that mirrored his rage for revenge. Her and Hill’s actions mirrored each other’s, both revolvers pointed straight at him as he raised his hands.

She was rather close to Stark, he’d heard him mention her name a couple of times, but Quentin struggled to remember, but whatever it was, all it mattered was that she didn’t recognise him and at this realisation, a devilish plan began to formulate in his mind as he thanked himself for keeping a ring on his finger, he’d make them all pay for the dead man’s sins.

“My name is Quentin Beck! I’m here to help!’ He announced, trying his hardest not to smirk.

_____

‘Mr Beck, if you would follow me, Director Fury would like to talk to you” (Y/n) announced, straightening her back, pulling her arms behind her back, standing up tall in front of the blue-eyed hero. He gave her a swift nod and she began to lead him through the maze of hallways.

She was different from what he had expected, in the time he had been here, the only words that had left her lips were short, one worded response. Perhaps it was the age that matured her mind, or the events of the last five or so years but whatever it was, it certainly made his job a little harder.

You see, every hero had their damsel in distress, Stark with Potts, Thor with Jane, the list could continue but Mysterio, he didn’t have a lady, and it would be a step up if his so-called damsel was basically an Avenger no?

______

“Peter!” (Y/n) gushed, ruffling the younger boy’s brown hair as he engulfed her in a tight hug, she hadn’t seen the kid for a while, not since the funeral.

“Ms (Y/N)!!” The younger boy beamed back at her, feeling relieved upon seeing a familiar, almost familial face. Quentin observed the pair interact, Peter telling her all about his plans for the trip and how Fury shot his friend with a tranquilliser. His eyes were set on (Y/n), she was almost an impossible book to read, the only advance he had made was the day he initially met her and all he could do now was give her long, calculative glances.

“Do you reckon you could talk to Fury for me? I really, really need this break, I, Mr Stark is gone, (Y/N) I can’t, I’m not ready for this” Peter rambled. The older girl felt her heart sink, he had suffered so, so much at such a young age. There was just too much responsibility on his young shoulders, shoulders that weren’t ready to carry the weight of the world yet. He was just a kid. Before she could respond, Fury appeared out of nowhere.

“Mr Parker, if you’d follow me.” He announced, his loud voice booming in the room, alerting every one of his presence and (Y/n) nodded and turned towards Peter, giving his warm hands a soft squeeze, knowing there wasn’t much she could do and gestured for him to follow the Director.

Peter gave her a dejected look before following Fury into another room, leaving the pair alone in the large space. Quentin quickly returned to the holographic map on the desk, pretending he hadn’t been staring at the (h/c) girl.

“Why have you been watching me?” (Y/n) soft voice echoed through the room, causing Quentin’s head to shoot up. She had noticed, of course she had, there was a reason she was one of the best in SHIELD, she never missed a detail. Of course, when she noticed a pair of blue eyes following her

It was working.

“I uh, I don’t know what you mean.” He replied, leaning back against the table as he faced her, she was no longer in her SHIELD uniform, but rather black jeans and a baggy grey hoodie.

“Don’t pretend to be naïve, I’ve seen you, you’ve been watching me, I'm a trained spy, I know when someone’s watching me Mr Beck, this got anything to do with that night in Mexico?” She asked, folding her arms and leaning sideways against the pillar, eyeing the blue-eyed man. He dropped his head as he fidgeted with the gold band on his middle finger, drawing her eyes to it.

“I uh, I should have apologised earlier Ms (Y/n).”

“Yes, maybe, but that doesn’t answer my question, why have you been watching me?” She continued, slightly enjoying the fact the hero was getting flustered.

“You just, I uh, you remind me, you remind of my wi- of someone I knew’ He mumbled. (Y/n) straightened up, a clueless expression taking over usually emotionless face and she tilted her head sideways.

“Whatever it is, just keep your eyes to yourself Mr Hero.” She chuckled, standing her guard, it wasn’t in her nature to let any of her emotions take control of her.

“Who are you? Director Fury called out, aiming his own gun towards the cape clad man. Ushering the old lady to take the kid and leave the scene, (Y/n) stood up, keeping her gun still pointed towards the mysterious man.

Luscious brown hair, a scruffy beard, light coloured eyes, she couldn’t judge the colour properly from this distance, a gold armour and a red cape, was this another Asgardian? Thinking that this would be another New York situation, she rolled her eyes, an action Quentin didn’t miss.

“My name is Quentin Beck, I’m here to help!” He called out, raising his hands in the air, praying they wouldn’t shoot him thinking he was the bad guy, but like come on, how much more obvious could it get that he was the hero? He had a cape on for crying out loud.

“You’ve got five seconds before we shoot!” Fury called out, knowing better than to be naïve and believe everyone he encountered.

“I’m from another Earth, these creatures, the Elementals, they destroyed my Earth, and now they’re using portals to attack the other Earths, and this was the wind one.” He explained, coming closer to the trio. Fury nodded, amused at the explanation and motioned for him to continue.

‘I know where the next one will strike, the Water Elemental, it’s the same coordinates as the attacks on my Earth.” He continued to explain, hoping that they would believe him. Fury motioned for Maria and (Y/n) to lower their guns and they reluctantly did, still being alert in case the situation went south as Beck continued to explain.

Another Earth, creatures called Elementals, the loss of his Earth, tear from Thanos’ snap, what a story. He was in the middle of explaining the next Elemental’s attack when a strong gush of wind appeared again, in the shape of the large animal.

“Stand back, you don’t want any part in this.” Beck yelled, flying upwards as green mist surrounded him, shooting green laser beams at the creature. Hill and Fury dove to the left side, taking cover under a half-broken stone building, whereas (Y/n) dove under the protection of a half standing wall.

Beck continued to fight the wind creature, shooting lasers at it, as the ones around it took cover. (Y/n) knew shooting at it wouldn’t help so she stood her ground, staying crouched next to the broken wall, constantly keeping her gaze on the scene, instantly spotting the same young kid she was helping before, crying as he tried to limp away, barely away from the battle itself.

Seeing her options, she crouched down, gun drawn as she moved along the length of the wall, reaching the end and waiting for the opportunity to cross the empty field. Seeing that Beck had gotten the creature down, she made a run for it.

She was so focused on the child in trouble that she didn’t see the large rock that came flying her way, hitting her on the side of her abdomen, knocking her down. She groaned in pain, feeling blood seep out as her shirt began to turn red. Grunting, she got back up, making it to the small pile of rubble the child was hiding behind. “Shhh, it’s ok’ She spoke, hugging the kid as he cried in her arm, no one else was dying on her watch, certainly not this young kid. Wrapping one arm around his torso and one around his head, she kept him close to her body, making sure to shield him from any rubble that flew at them.

Beck defeated the creature, well, of course he did, but he couldn’t keep his gaze off of the (h/c) haired girl, her shirt was obviously covered in blood in the abdominal region, a small cut decorating her left cheekbone as she limped over to walk the kid back, out of the rubble.

She really was something, this was going to be fun

________

It was in the late hours of the night that the Director announced for them to disperse, knowing that the next predicted attack wasn’t until a week later. Excusing herself, (Y/n) made her way to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid out of the cabinet, she sat down on the edge of the small tub, groaning in pain she lifted the hem of her shirt, exposing her wound.

It was now covered in dried blood, she hadn’t gotten the chance to clean it up all day, Fury had assigned her on the clean-up of the village and when she got back to base, it was nothing but more discussion with Beck.

“Ah fuck.” She groaned, feeling the alcohol burn the wound, it was pretty deep because as soon as she cleaned the dried blood off, it started bleeding again. She had been so focused on the wound that she had forgotten to lock the door and the minute she pulled her shirt off, the door opened wide.

Quentin’s eyes widened as he saw her, sitting on the tub, a massive gash on her stomach, her shirt off, just in her sports bra. “Oh I’- uh, I must have forgotten to lock the door.” She mumbled, grabbing the towel on the counter and pulling it over her stomach.

“It’s ok, I-I should have knocked” He replied, his eyes scanning her, toned arms, glowing (s/c) skin, her hair no longer tied up but rather a mess on her shoulders, dried blood on her face and all over her abdomen.

“Do you need help with that?” He asked, pointing towards her stomach, there was no way she’d be able to bandage herself easily. He was no longer dressed in his hero outfit, but rather in sweatpants and a black tee. “I wouldn’t want to bother” She replied, not wanting to bother him as her gaze fell to the floor. “Ah it’s alright, here, don’t think you can do it yourself” He gave her a soft smile, and she handed him the disinfectant.

He crouched down in front of her, his blue eyes fixed on her stomach as he moved the towel away and began to apply the disinfectant. “It’s a deep cut” He remarked, continuously wiping the dried blood that was all over her abdomen and the sides of her stomach. Her face began to warm up under his gaze, it wasn’t everyday someone saw her half naked.

“I wasn’t going to let the kid get hurt, I’ll live” She chuckled, as he looked up to her, giving her a good view of his blue eyes. Brown hair, light skin, a scruffy beard, plump lips and most of all, eyes bluer than the ocean, actually no, they were lighter than the ocean, more like when the sun shone on the ocean and it twinkled a light blue, yeah, like that colour.

“I admire that, wait, I never actually got your name before.” He awkwardly chuckled, putting the bottle of disinfectant away as he threw the used cotton in the bin. “(Y/n), (Y/n) Romanoff.” She replied as he placed the ointment on her wound.

Romanoff? As in Natasha Romanoff? Holy shit, she was the Widow’s sister?

Shaking off his surprise, he continued to apply the ointment, causing her to hiss from pain. “That’s a beautiful name (Y/n).” He replied, beginning to bandage the wound. “Here, raise your arm up a little more.” He instructed her and she nodded, lifting her arm around so he could wrap the bandage around her waist, his face coming in close contact with her chest, causing his ears to turn red, hey, just because he was evil doesn’t mean he wasn’t human. Finishing up the bandaging, he looked up at her face, seeing the cut on her cheekbone.

“Here, there’s another cut.” He smiled at her, holding up more cotton and disinfectant and moving towards her cheek. She hissed again in pain as he placed the disinfectant on her cheek.

“Shhhh, its ok, almost over” he spoke softly, blowing air onto the cut to soften the stinging as she flinched. He finished up and placed a small band-aid on her cheek.

“Thank you for the help Beck.” She smiled, giving his shoulder a soft pat. He gave her a smile in return, leaning forward, placing a hand on her other cheek as he placed a kiss on her forehead, “Take care (Y/n)’ He mumbled against her skin, before getting up and leaving the wide (e/c) eyed girl alone in the bathroom, with a tinge of red coating her warm cheeks.

_____

“Hey kiddo, how’d it go with Fury?” (Y/n) asked, she had been given the job to escort Peter back to his hotel along with Demetri.

“I said no Ms (Y/N)-” He began but she cut him off. “How many times have I told you not to call me that, geez you make me sound old Peter, it’s just (Y/N)” She chuckled, allowing him to continue.

“I said no (Y/n), I just, I need this break, I really do, he, I-” He stuttered, not being able to find the right words to put his feelings into words.

“I get it Peter, we all need a break, but you’re so young, you have so much to do than to be dragged into this mess.” She gave him a weak smile, giving him a soft pat on the back, earning death glares from Demetri.

“Thank you for understanding.” He replied, leaning into her shoulder as she put her arm around his shoulder. “How’s the trip been going?” She asked him, rubbing his shoulder. She could still visualise Peter from the funeral, bloodshot eyes, messy hair, a loose tie, he had been crying that entire morning, she found him in the backyard, all alone. She had offered to fix his tie, to which the young boy agreed to with a weak smile. At that point, she had only known Peter for a little while, she had initially met him during the Sokovia accords situation.

She had sided with Tony on that situation, but she was fiercely against him bringing in a 14-year-old kid to make his point. He was just a kid, and he had literally picked him out of his life and put him into a situation that even the grown-ups around him couldn’t comprehend. And of course, then came Thanos, the mad Titan. One minute she was in Wakanda, fighting along with her sister, and the next, she came back to a world where she no longer existed.

‘It’s good Ms- (Y/n), there’s this girl I really like, and I, I’m th-thinking of con-confessing’ He mumbled, playing with his hands.

‘Peter that’s amazing!’ (Y/n) gushed, ruffling his hair as his face heated up, the younger boy’s face broke out into a massive grin, his pure smile melting her heart.

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so happy, but alas their boat ride came to an end and she big farewell to Peter with a hug as he entered the shabby hotel his schoolmates were staying at.

Nat would be proud of her, she always had a way of making (Y/n) smile, and if she could make an innocent boy like Peter smile, she was content with herself.

AN: Slow start but I promise it’ll get so much better! I have some (hopefully) great things planned! Got any other requests? Shoot them through!

#spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #mysterio x reader #mysterio #spiderman ffh #spiderman far from home #mysterio imagine #quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #quentin beck fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #spider-man far from home #quentin beck imagine

276 notes · View notes

doof-doofblog · 4 years ago

Text

"I'd Like To Talk To Somebody About Reporting A Mortgage Fraud!"

Tuesday 1st December 2020

Hello again everyone! We're finally into December, the count down to the Christmas episodes starts now!! I'm sure we're going to be in for an eventful Christmas! I'm really looking forward to seeing everything unfold! What are you guys most looking forward to? Ian getting his comeuppance and being attacked? Finding out who it was who attacked him? Or the reveal of Mick's childhood abuse? Either way, it's a going to be a roller-coaster full of emotions I am sure!

Let's make a start with the blog following last night then, the episode begins with Max minding his own business, getting everything prepped in the restaurant, as Ian makes his way in - INSTANTLY you can see the smug look on his face!! You can see he's going to enjoy himself putting Max in his place! Max seems surprised to see Ian standing there watching him, questioning whether he has other things better to do - such as getting the money he owes him - instead of standing there. However as soon as Max mentions his money, Ian is quick to inform Max that he's not letting him boss him around anymore, and what's even more of a blow, is that he won't be selling the Vic! Max looks completely and utterly confused and asks whether Ian has actually had some knock on his head, it's then that Ian really smugly grins and warns him that he won't be receiving a penny from him unless he wants the Square to know about his rendezvous with Linda, simply blackmailing the poor man! Max is absolute shock and disbelief as Ian grins and walks out the room, I'm quite saddened to see how these two partners - considering they became civil and started to support one another during a brief time, have come to this!

Meanwhile, at the Carter apartment, all the decorations that Linda had put up to surprise her husband are still hung up around the living room. As she walks into the kitchen with little Ollie, Mick is seen sprawled across the sofa, it looks as he's asleep. As Linda is getting her things together, little Ollie looks over to to his Dad, and in such a gorgeous sweet voice asks his Mum "What's the matter with Daddy?" - Is this the first time we've ever heard Ollie speak?! If so, he is so adorable! I'm sure we all have our own favourite child actors on the Square, I have to be honest, mine is Ollie - he's just an adorable little boy and such a cute little actor!! But of course all the young actors in EastEnders are fantastic! As Ollie questions his Mother, Linda simply explains that the young boy's Dad is just tired. As they both leave the room, once again the camera is focused on Mick and he slowly opens his eyes after hearing his son and wife talking about him.

At the Cafe, Tiffany and Keegan are enjoying their breakfast as they talk about how many missed calls she had from Stuart and Rainie the previous day. Tiffany seems to be a lot more understanding than Keegan is as she assures her husband that it's mainly because the couple are excited about becoming parents, it's something they have longed for for so long. Suddenly Rainie enters as Tiffany is about to chow down on a vegetarian breakfast, Tiffany pleads to her to at least let her eat her hash brown before talking about periods again - but Rainie is quick to apologise for how she acted, it was completely out of order and unnecessary. She questions the redhead whether things are still okay between them, Tiffany assures her that everything is fine and nothing has changed, Rainie seems surprised to hear this - as after Ian revealed to Whitney what Tiffany had gotten involved in, she was sure things may have changed. However, Tiffany reassures her that things are still set in stone for her to be her surrogate, only as Rainie leaves the Cafe, Whitney enters and as they both their separate ways, they both clock each other. It's then that Whitney approaches her younger sister and informs her that they need to have a serious talk.

Meanwhile, at the laundrette, as Linda is busy doing the washing, Max enters - once again Linda appears a bit cold when it comes to his appearance. Max warns her that they have to discuss what happened the previous night, even though Linda is just insistent that it was a kiss and it didn't mean anything, he tells her the very important piece of information that it just so happens that Ian saw them in their embrace. Linda looks in shock and a bit of fear that the worry sinks in that Ian could say something to someone, even Mick.

At the Branning household, Whitney has brought Tiffany and Keegan over to Jack's to discuss Tiffany's promise to Rainie. Whitney is stunned to hear that they have been offered £10,000 to have their baby! Tiffany is adamant that she wants to go ahead with it, considering that the money they've been offered with help pay for her course and Keegan's new stall on the Market. However when Whitney asks whether it's legal - I'm sure Stuart and Rainie both informed Tiffany that everything would be above board and they'd get the right paperwork they'd need - however, I have done a little bit of research. Whitney reveals that Tiffany's age is in fact 17, the legal age of someone to become a surrogate is the "Adult Age" of 18. However, even though it's legal for someone to be surrogate at the age of 18, the preferred age is between 21 and 45. With Tiffany being so young, there may be more complications down the road that they all might face, even though Tiffany may be fit and healthy. The main reason why they consider 18 to be too young is because of 3 main reasons :- the persons emotional maturity, their physical maturity and whether they've had a previous pregnancy. I'm not saying that this is in Tiffany's case, but that is what the research I have found states, I'm sure EastEnders will handle this storyline in a really touching and careful way. As Whitney and Jack still voice their concerns to the teenager, she leaves the room feeling incredibly frustrated.

Back at the laundrette, Linda is fretting whether Ian will leak the news about her and Max to the community. She informs Max that her husband hasn't been the same for weeks and if he found out that they'd kissed for a second time, it would absolutely destroy him. Max tries to calm her down and informs her that he will take the rap for it, he explains that he'll tell Ian that he came on to her instead, so that she won't be looked down on by her neighbours, plus it would be a way of saving her marriage to Mick. He promises that he'll sort it and he'll take care of Ian and informs her not to worry. Linda is incredibly thankful to Max as he leaves her in search for Ian. Meanwhile, as Callum is walking alone down the road, DI Thompson confronts him after jumping out of his car, it looks as if he's been parked up for some time waiting for Callum to make an appearance. He corners Callum as he informs him that the police department have put him under review because of the anonymous 999 call which they still have no leads on. It looks as if Thompson is blaming Callum because he used his ID, to which Callum recalls him mentioning it would be okay, but from DI Thompson's point of view, he said he wouldn't report Callum, but it looks as if things have made a really dark turn and Thompson is now trying to get his own back on Callum. But he thinks fast on his feet and reveals that if he was going to take him down, Callum was just drag him down with him as he wouldn't be able to answer any questions they would have, in response Thompson punches Callum really hard and deep in the stomach, only he picked the wrong timing as Stuart witnesses everything from a distance and informs Thompson to back off and leave his young brother alone. Callum begs his brother to leave it, he informs him that Thompson is in fact his boss and he'll only get into trouble if he did anything. Only as Thompson says that he can do whatever he likes, Stuart takes his chance and wallops him right in the nose! (Deep down, I was cheering - YES STUART!!!!!!!!!) - Callum is stunned to see his brother assault his own boss, but let just hope he hasn't made it 10x worse for his younger brother.

At the park, Keegan approaches his wife as she's sat alone at a picnic table, he questions whether she's okay, but she reveals to him that she is sick of being treated like a child. Suddenly Jack approaches them from behind slowly, Keegan notices him first and then Tiffany turns to see her Uncle. Jack explains that he's not there to argue with them, he admits that they can make their own choices in life and agrees that they are both now adults making very important and life-changing decisions, however he does drop the bombshell to them that Rainie can't pay them the amount she's offering, as it would be illegal. Much to the young couple's shock, he reveals that they only amount they'd get is "Reasonable Expenses" - now I've done a bit more research to this to try and explain what that means. If they go through with the surrogacy through the proper channels, once Rainie's and Stuart's baby is born, a court will decide how much Tiffany and Keegan will get - in the UK there is no standard figure, but on average the amount between £12,000 - £20,000 is the accepted rate for surrogacy. Jack does also explain that obviously the devastating motion of giving a baby up once giving birth to it is one of the hardest things to go through. He worries whether the young couple will end up like himself and Denise. Tiffany and Keegan both reassure him that they both will be okay. With this information, he politely leaves them to it to discuss the situation more.

Meanwhile, at the Vic, Bobby shows off the lovely, glistening, shiny, blue Lucy Beale Award to Sharon, she gushes over the sparkly vibrant award and informs the young teenager how beautiful it is. Suddenly Kathy makes an appearance and whispers to Sharon whether a certain something has arrived, as Sharon motions her to the back of the pub, Kathy informs her Grandson to stay put as she has a surprise in store for him. As she disappears to the back, Bobby begins to go through everything that needs to be done for the night's event, informing Sharon that the food needs to be chilled and then questions her whether she has everything prepared on her phone. As Sharon promises the young teenager that everything will go according to plan, Kathy appears from the back with a huge cheque for £20,000! Bobby is but dumbfounded as he compliments it being a bit big, but Kathy reassures him that it looks exciting and professional! Suddenly as Ian appears behind the bar, Bobby is excited to show him the reveal of the Lucy Beale Award, however his Dad only comments on the colour, and very disrespectfully says that he would've gone for a silver colour instead of blue, much to Kathy's irritation and Bobby's disappointment, it absolutely baffles me how Ian is not more supportive towards his son, he's literally shown no interest in his son's charity, in his own daughter's name. Ian looks incredibly smug once again as he informs Sharon that he's managed to have words with Max and that he won't be selling the Vic, Sharon appears to be very happy and very proud of her friend - oooh I can't wait till she discovers the truth about everything. As things carry on, Ian happily places a delivery into the freezer, although whilst in there, the door slowly closes behind him and we can see a hand on the door's handle. Max! - Sorry, but even though I am glad that this is happening, locking someone in a freezer is incredibly dangerous. Of course, Ian has no idea how he's managed to get trapped inside, he bangs the door and calls for Sharon's help, but Max just grins and allows him to carry on yelling for help.

Outside on the Square, Shirley and Tina catch Linda as she's leaving the laundrette, they ask her whether she managed to get through to Mick the previous night. Linda devastatingly informs them that Mick showed no interest in their evening together and she didn't even manage to get a word out of her husband. They look in defeat as Linda walks away, Tina is still lingering onto hope of the idea of getting the Vic back for Mick, but Shirley is eager to get any information she can on Ian, she pleads to her sister that if she knows any information at all she needs to spill the beans if it gives them any chance of getting back in the Vic. Even though Tina promised her boss she wouldn't say anything, something tells me that Tina will have no other choice but to reveal what Ian did to his Mum to the papers. I'm sure Kathy has no recollection of informing her colleague about Ian's wrongdoings, but how will she react if the news became public?!

At the Prince Albert, Callum and Stuart are sat talking about their previous encounter with DI Thompson, Callum seems to be stressing even more now that Stuart has had to interfere, but in all due respect, Callum was sticking up for his little brother, no matter who it was that punched him, he would've done the same to anyone! Callum informs his brother that he followed his advice on trying to get the bug from the Arches back, but the devastating truth is that Phil got there before him. Luckily Phil doesn't yet know who planted it, but Callum really needs to start treading carefully. Stuart informs his brother that they need to put a stop things before anything else gets out of hand, Callum is already up to eyeballs in it, how much worse can things get for him?! He tells his brother to leave him to it, and leaves the bar, but something tells me that Stuart is just wanting to help his brother and somehow, someway he will find a way of finding a solution to help his younger brother.

Meanwhile, back at the Vic, Max has still trapped Ian inside the freezer. Ian is calling out for Sharon, Tracy, anyone who could potentially be listening. Suddenly, Ian starts to panic - and as he does so, he starts to have flashbacks of locking poor young Dennis on the boat and him screaming for help. Max smugs and laughs as he can hear Ian screaming at the top of his lungs, Ian's breathing becomes raspy and he starts panicking for his life (GOOD!) - He realises that this is exactly what young Dennis must've gone through. He lets out one last cry for help and Max slowly opens the door, Ian is hunched against the floor as Max places his foot against Ian's throat, he questions how long it would've taken for someone to realise he was actually stuck in there, no one would've noticed him! Ian begs Max for his mercy and pleads to let him go, but before he does, he warns Ian not to say a word about him and Linda to anyone, plus he'll get him the money he is owed, otherwise he'll do what he should've done a long time ago and finished him off. Ian nods to the agreement/warning and Max removes his foot, insulting him before he leaves.

Back at the Carter's, Mick is now sat up and fully awake, he hears footsteps approaching the living room and Tina pops her around the corner, happy to see her brother looking a bit more alert. She looks around the room and notices all the decorations that Linda has put up from the previous evening, she questions whether they had a late night. Mick softly reveals to his sister that he wasn't feeling in the mood and that the truth is, he went to visit the old children's home from their childhood. Tina is surprised and questions him why he went there, he explains simply that he needed something, something in his head told him to go there. Tina seems to realise and understand what her brother is saying, she explains that it was possibly like being in the Vic, having a family around him and if he's having those feelings, maybe visiting a property can make you think about old times and maybe relive memories. Mick nods and confirms to his sister that she's absolutely right, but of course - that's not all the truth really is it, we all know the main reason why he visited that place - Tina cocks her head and tells her brother to leave it with her, she'll be able to sort something. What the hell is Tina thinking of doing?! We know she's determined to get the pub back in the Carter's name, but how will she be able to get Ian to sign it over to them?!

Returning to the Vic, Ian is sat alone with his hands stroking around his neck, he appears to be in a world of his own as he recall's Max's words. Sharon makes her way into the living room and approaches the laptop in front of her, ready to sort out the charity account for Bobby's charity. As she looks at her phone, she comments on how small the writing is on her phone and asks Ian to read out an account number for her, as he does so, little Albie begins to cry and Sharon has to leave to see to her young son. Only as she's absent, Ian takes a swift look at the laptop screen - what is looking at exactly? As Sharon returns, he is looking very shifty and looks completely on edge as she starts to get to work on the laptop.

Meanwhile, at the funeral directors, Stuart has caught up with his wife, who appears to be looking at baby items on the internet. Stuart begins to worry as she mentions about the extravagant baby items she's found, she looks at him with concern and questions whether he still wants to have a baby. Stuart reassures his wife that that is all he wants right now, more than anything - but truth be told is that he made so many mistakes with his daughter, Zara, he's scared he might make the same mistakes. Rainie then takes it upon herself to reassure her husband that he's brilliant with young Abi, and that any child would be lucky to have him as their Dad. She also confesses that she too is terrified about becoming a Mother, she recalls watching her sister, Tanya, having a children and remembers the feeling of distraught that she wouldn't be able to have children of her own, but now with Tiffany and Keegan's help, their wish is becoming true, and softly and gently, the husband and wife share a kiss. Although, unbeknown to them, whilst they're having this deep discussion, Tiffany and Keegan are having a discussion of their own. Tiffany informs her husband about all the videos and articles that Whitney has sent her in warning to being a surrogate, it's then that Keegan drops the bombshell that he thinks that Jack and Whitney are right. Tiffany is devastated to hear that her husband has changed his mind, he informs her that in the first place, they were only doing it for the money, and now they know that they might not even receive it, and that he fears her giving birth to a child and falling in love with it is inevitable. He voices that the first baby they would have together, deep down, he'd want it to be their own. Tiffany asks her husband whether he never mentioned this before, but eventually reveals that to her it is also a big relief. It looks as if they may no longer want to go through with the surrogacy - only how will they be able to tell Stuart and Rainie?! They're going to be heartbroken! Does that mean they'll need to find another surrogate?!

The final scenes of this episode show Tina is scooping popcorn into separate bags at the Prince Albert whilst Kathy is revealing everything that has happened during the day involving Ian and Bobby. She's happily informing her about Bobby's effort into putting on an Award ceremony in the name of his deceased sister, and also informing her disappointment in her son, Ian, about his response to Bobby's hard work. Commenting on how Ian criticized the award itself because of the colour, she voices that she wishes Ian would be more supportive of his son, but it looks as if Ian will never change his ways. Tina is silent as Kathy reveals all this information to her, but also nods and acknowledges Kathy's words. She then agrees to attend the award ceremony to show Bobby some support. But as Kathy leaves the building, Tina grabs her mobile phone and quickly dials a number, it looks as if she's either called the police or possibly another newspaper declaring she wants to speak to some to report a mortgage fraud! Is she finally going to reveal the truth about Ian?! Meanwhile, as she's doing this, Ian and Sharon are upstairs of the Queen Vic watching television, however Sharon has fallen asleep on the sofa with the laptop open. Ian looks over and decides to sit himself next to Sharon and take a look for himself how much the charity has raised - we can see that the charity has raised a whopping £20,137.00! Only Ian goes and stoops the absolute lowest he can get - he transfers £20,000 of that amount into Max's account! He's only gone and stole money from his own daughter's charity!! How on Earth can he stoop so low?! Something tells me though that he will get his comeuppance for doing this! Bobby is going to be absolutely devastated when he finds out (It wouldn't surprise me if he does attack his Dad!)

Something also tells me that, now Max has had money transferred into his account, he will see where that money has come from. It won't say "Ian Beale" but instead "The Lucy Beale Foundation!" - so he will know full well that Ian has transferred it from the charity account into his - I hope that Max isn't accused of stealing it, as that would be another huge twist in the mix and another reason for Max to go after Ian! If Max's notices in time, I'd like to think he'd to the decent thing and either put the money back into the right account or let everyone know that it was Ian who gave it to him!! This is a very interesting cliff-hanger, and I'm really intrigued to see how it's all going to unfold! I apologise for this blog being so late, but tomorrow I will post another blog following tonight's episode! Thank you all for reading, please feel free to leave any comments or opinions on the current storylines, I'd love to hear your thoughts and I'll always respond! Thanks again folks and enjoy the rest of your evening! Love you all! xXx

1 note · View note

letterboxd · 5 years ago

Photo

Screen Time.

Can the data about actors’ time on screen help bust open Oscars category fraud? Jack Moulton talks to stopwatch-wielding Academy Awards fan Matthew Stewart about his hours (and hours, and hours) of timing Academy-nominated performances down to the second. Pictured above are the longest on-screen appearances for winning lead and supporting performances: Charlton Heston, Vivien Leigh, Tatum O’Neal and Mahershala Ali.

“It’s a shameful practice and in order to argue against it, there has to be evidence.” —Matthew Stewart

The Oscar categories for Supporting Actress and Supporting Actor were introduced at the 9th Academy Awards in 1937 to recognize those who excelled in roles that were less-than-leading, but no less important to the story. It’s a category in which emerging actors, fantastic character performers and non-famous industry veterans have found their way to Oscar glory.

Except that in recent decades, there’s so much more to an Oscar-winning performance than what we see on screen. It’s often a deliberate campaign, using every publicity trick in the book: red carpet walks, ‘surprise’ Q&A appearances, press coverage about the sacrifices involved in playing the part, narratives about previous ‘awards snubs��.

And then there’s category fraud—a strategy where studios split two stars across two categories, in order to nudge both towards the Academy’s podium. Example: for their equally leading roles in Carol, Cate Blanchett won the leading actress nomination, while Rooney Mara was nominated for supporting actress.

The problem, as Anne Thompson writes in her recent Thompson on Hollywood column assessing this year’s likely category-shifts, is “when lead actors (or actresses) decide they have a better chance in supporting, they take a slot away from another deserving performer”.

As history moves on and the politics fade away, measuring screen time is perhaps one of the few objective, quantifiable and finite pieces of information the director passes along to the audience and Oscar voters about an actor’s contribution to a film.

Enter Matthew Stewart: a 28-year-old Oscar buff and Letterboxd member from North Carolina who’s been following the Academy Awards for fourteen years. Curious as to why Frances McDormand and William H. Macy were nominated for Lead Actress and Supporting Actor respectively for Fargo, he set out to investigate how egregious their category placements were, by comparing their time on screen. Turns out Macy is on screen for 38 seconds longer than McDormand.

Matthew is our type of completist. Over the past twelve years, he has made it his mission to time all of the Academy Award nominated performances; tracking actors’ seconds on screen (whether seen or heard), keeping track of the time in his notepad, and then summing it all up. He certainly knows more than the Academy, who broadcasted incorrect trivia on last year’s Oscar game that Matthew was quick to put right.

His motivation is largely to debunk myths, such as the commonly repeated ‘fun fact’ of Anthony Hopkins in The Silence of the Lambs having the shortest Best Actor Oscar-winning performance. The shortest, in fact, is David Niven’s appearance in Separate Tables, which is exactly one minute and thirteen seconds shorter than Hopkins’ Hannibal Lecter.

Of course, screen time does not reflect quality by any means. Having a character on screen for longer does not mean the role is better acted or more well-written. In many ways, it can be more impressive when an iconic or powerful character is technically on screen for half an hour or less.

We spoke to Matthew about his hobby, his opinions on category fraud, and the data he has on this year’s nominees. He shares his results on Twitter, his Letterboxd profile and his website, Screentime Central.

Vivien Leigh in ‘Gone with the Wind’ (1939).

Let’s get to those stats. In Academy Award history, what is the longest performance to be nominated for an Oscar? Matthew Stewart: By length, 1940 Best Actress winner Vivien Leigh is seen on screen in Gone with the Wind for two hours, 23 minutes and 32 seconds. By percentage, 1976 Best Actor nominee James Whitmore is on screen in Give ’em Hell, Harry! for 96.52 percent of the film’s runtime.

And the shortest? Both by length and percentage, 1960 Best Supporting Actress nominee Hermione Baddeley is on screen in Room at the Top for only two minutes and 19 seconds, which is just 1.98 percent of the film’s runtime.

You’ve done the math: what was the most egregious category fraud of all-time? And also—the worst failed attempt at category fraud? The most egregious case of category fraud is Richard Burton’s supporting nomination for My Cousin Rachel. Others come close, but that is the worst. He’s the main focus of the film and is in 85 percent of it, making it one of the 25 longest performances nominated in any category. And his co-star, Olivia de Havilland, is only in 44 percent of the film, so there’s no explaining it.

One of the most serious cases of fraud I can think of that didn’t result in a nomination is Jacob Tremblay being campaigned as supporting for Room. It’s a shame that that kind of bias against child actors still exists. And then there are cases where a definitive decision on placement wasn’t made, resulting in no nomination at all, like Lesley Manville in Another Year.

How does your husband feel about your time-consuming hobby? I actually didn’t tell anyone about my hobby for the first four years or so. I wanted to avoid the judgment of people thinking it was odd.

My husband was interested as soon as I told him and showed him my work up to that point. He’s always been willing to listen to my Oscar-related ramblings, so I shouldn’t have been worried!

Why do you think it’s important to keep such scientific track of category fraud? I think it’s important to because it’s a shameful practice and in order to argue against it, there has to be evidence. And the evidence is stacking up just about every year. I want to provide as much screen-time data as possible as a way to support correct category placements, and of course I hope that someday the Academy will catch on.

Now we have the data, has category fraud gotten worse over the years? Can you tell if the recent absence of Weinstein has helped ease fraud? Category fraud seems to have gotten worse in recent years, with cases like Rooney Mara [in Carol] and Alicia Vikander [winner of Best Supporting Actress for The Danish Girl] in 2016 and the cast of The Favourite last year. But really, it’s not any worse now than it’s been since the introduction of the supporting categories.

The worst thing about it now is how blatantly greedy some studios are in terms of winning as many Oscars as possible. It’s sad that we’ll never again see two leading actors or actresses nominated for the same film out of fear of them cancelling each other out and neither winning. Campaigning one of them as supporting makes for two potential wins.

I think Weinstein intensified the trend so long ago that his absence doesn’t change much. Some studios have campaigned that way for so long that I don’t think it will get better any time soon.

Which is the most significant difference between a nominated lead and supporting performance in the same film? [See Matthew’s list: Who’s Supporting Who?] The worst case is Timothy Hutton [supporting] over Mary Tyler Moore [leading] in Ordinary People. Hutton is onscreen for 32 minutes and eighteen seconds more than Moore! I would personally classify both of those performances as leading, as well as Donald Sutherland’s performance in the same film.

Meryl Streep in ‘Kramer vs. Kramer’, the first—and longest—of her three Oscar-winning roles, from a record 21 nominations.

Have you timed which actor or actress has the most Oscar nominated minutes ever? Or, let me rephrase: how many minutes do Meryl Streep’s 21 Oscar nominated performances add up to? Meryl Streep’s Oscar-nominated performances add up to 21 hours, 19 minutes, and 39 seconds, which gives her an average of about 61 minutes per performance.

And the runners up? After Streep, it’s Katharine Hepburn (12:45:10), Jack Nicholson (12:32:27), Bette Davis (12:09:13), and Laurence Olivier (10:54:22).

Which were the hardest and easiest films to time? Naturally, the harder it is to see the actor on screen, the harder it is to time them. So I really despise drawn-out battle scenes or scenes with huge crowds. Timing Charlton Heston’s performance in Ben-Hur during the chariot racing scene wasn’t that hard, because you know where he is, but timing Hugh Griffith’s performance in the same scene was much harder because he’s part of that enormous crowd.

The easiest one I’ve ever done is James Whitmore in Give ’em Hell, Harry!, since it’s a filmed one-man stage show. Sleuth and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? were easy too, because there are so few actors in the cast.

What results surprised you the most? I remember being shocked to find out that Robert Strauss’s supporting performance in Stalag 17 is nineteen minutes longer than William Holden’s leading one. But still, in that case, I don’t have a problem with the category placement. More recently, I was surprised by the shortness of Sam Elliott’s performance in A Star Is Born [eight minutes, 45 seconds!], and the fact that Scarlett Johansson’s performance in Marriage Story is 20 minutes shorter than Adam Driver’s.

Of those you’ve timed so far, what are the screen times for this year’s nominees? [Actors are ranked below by screen time as a percentage of each film’s total runtime.]

Best Actor in a Leading Role: Joaquin Phoenix (Joker) – 1:43:44 / 85.3% Adam Driver (Marriage Story) – 1:25:03 / 62.1% Jonathan Pryce (The Two Popes) – 1:12:42 / 57.7% Antonio Banderas (Pain and Glory) – 59:31 / 52.5% Leonardo DiCaprio (Once Upon a Time in Hollywood) – 1:01:12 / 37.9%

Best Actress in a Leading Role: Renee Zellweger (Judy) – 1:27:29 / 74.0% Cynthia Erivo (Harriet) – 1:25:12 / 68.2% Saoirse Ronan (Little Women) – 1:15:01 / 47.7% Scarlett Johansson (Marriage Story) – 1:05:19 / 47.7% Charlize Theron (Bombshell) – 37:16 / 34.3%

Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Anthony Hopkins (The Two Popes) – 55:14 / 43.9% Brad Pitt (Once Upon a Time in Hollywood) – 55:12 / 34.2% Al Pacino (The Irishman) – 53:58 / 25.8% Tom Hanks (A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood) – 44:56 / 41.4% Joe Pesci (The Irishman) – 43:22 / 20.7%

Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Florence Pugh (Little Women) – 42:06 / 31.2% Margot Robbie (Bombshell) – 26:16 / 24.2% Kathy Bates (Richard Jewell) – 25:06 / 19.2% Laura Dern (Marriage Story) – 18:36 / 13.6% Scarlett Johansson (Jojo Rabbit) – 15:36 / 14.4%

It looks like the more time on screen, the better the chances of a win, judging by some of the frontrunners this year. Is that an identifiable trend in your data? Looking at the data from the last ten years, Oscar wins do tend to favor longer performances across all categories. The shortest Best Actor or Actress nominee of the year has only won once since 2010—Olivia Colman last year for The Favourite.

The average winning leading performance since 2010 is 75 minutes long (63 percent of screen time), with none under 50 minutes (when the previous decade had eight under 50, and five under 40 percent). The average winning supporting performance since 2010 is 36 minutes long (28 percent of screen time), with only one under 20 minutes (which was Allison Janney in I, Tonya).

Have you noticed any fun stats for this year’s nominees? The only screen-time-related stat I’ve noticed is that this year’s Supporting Actor nominees have either the highest or second-highest average length of all time in the category. I can’t say for sure until after I time Tom Hanks, nominated for A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood.

With an average age of 71.6, this year’s Supporting Actor Oscar nominees are the oldest group ever nominated in any acting category. This is the fourth time this decade that the Supporting Actors have broken the long-standing record of 61.3 held by the 1965 Supporting Actress group.

Also, all of this year’s acting nominees make up the second-oldest group ever nominated, with an average age of 51.8. The record is still 53.1 for 2017—the third time the record was broken this decade after previously being held by (again) the 1965 group (49.3).

So far, this year’s nominees haven’t broken any records. Phoenix’s performance could be the overall longest Oscar-winning performance of the decade, but that’s about it.

Mahershala Ali as Don Shirley in ‘Green Book’ (2018).

What nominees in the past decade broke records? I think one thing worth mentioning is that Mahershala Ali just broke the record for longest Supporting Actor winning performance last year [for Green Book], previously held by Christoph Waltz in 2013 [for Django Unchained], who took the record from Timothy Hutton.

And the female percentage record was broken twice this decade after being held since 1991 by Meryl Streep [for Postcards from the Edge]; by Marion Cotillard in 2015 [for Two Days, One Night] and then by Charlotte Rampling in 2016 [for 45 Years].

Three of the ten longest Best Supporting Actress-nominated performances of all time (by minutes) are from 2016 (Mara, Vikander, Leigh). Mara and Vikander also make the percentage top ten, along with Hailee Steinfeld (True Grit), Emma Stone (The Favourite) and Julia Roberts (August: Osage County)—so exactly half of that top ten are from this decade alone.

2019 was the first time ever that two performances under ten minutes were nominated for Best Supporting Actor in the same year—Sam Elliott, and Sam Rockwell in Vice.

And what about performances you timed from 2019 that were snubbed? (More from other years are here.)

Awkwafina (The Farewell) – 1:00:19 / 60.4% Zhao Shuzhen (The Farewell) – 37:33 / 37.6% Constance Wu (Hustlers) – 1:02:31/ 56.8% Jennifer Lopez (Hustlers) – 53:09 / 48.3% Robert De Niro (The Irishman) – 2:14:19 / 64.1% Lupita Nyong’o (Us) – 57:21 / 49.3% Robert Pattinson (The Lighthouse) – 1:23:18 / 76.4% Willem Dafoe (The Lighthouse) – 56:02 / 51.4% Margot Robbie (Once Upon a Time in Hollywood) – 17:00 / 10.5%

You’ve watched more nominees than most people (let’s face it, maybe all people). Forgetting screen time, what are the most underrated nominated performances you think people should check out? Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne in The Guardsman (I can’t separate them, sorry!), Mickey Rooney in The Bold and the Brave, and Norma Shearer in Marie Antoinette.

How about greatest snubs. Who are you dying to see get nominated for an Oscar? When I think of who the Academy has snubbed the most, I immediately think of John Goodman. He’s everyone’s go-to answer, but it’s true. After him, I’d say Emily Blunt, Steve Buscemi and Alfred Molina.

What Oscar win are you rooting for the most on Sunday? My favorite Oscar-nominated performance of the year is Joaquin Phoenix in Joker. I know the film is polarizing, but he’s undeniable, and I hope he wins. As for upsets in below-the-line categories, I’d love it if The Lighthouse won Best Cinematography, and it’d be so cool if Parasite won Best Film Editing.

The 92nd Academy Awards take place on Sunday, February 9, at 5:00pm PST. See also: The Best Best Picture Lineups and All the 2020 Oscar Nominees.

#academy awards #oscars #oscar #oscars 2020 #awards #acting #actors #time on screen #matthew stewart #leading actor #leading actress #supporting actor #supporting actress #letterboxd

6 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 4 years ago

Text

826

All About the Letter F

Please List! (at least one)

Animals I Like: Ferrets and foxes.

Foods I Like: Fettuccine alfredo, feta cheese, falafel, fondant, French fries, fried rice, and everything else that’s fried, honestly.

I Know Someone Who’s (jobs): Flight attendant, fashion designer, feature writer, features editor, field reporter...I know my girlfriend’s mom watches out for fraud activity within the company she works in, but I’m not sure what her title is.

I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Finland and Frankfurt. I’d love to go back to Fukuoka too, considering I only spent an afternoon there.

Sometimes I Feel: Frustrated, furious, frightened.

Music I Listen To: Fall Out Boy. I also wouldn’t mind hearing some Flume and FKA twigs.

Movies I’ve Seen: Funny Face, Full Metal Jacket, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Fight Club, Finding Nemo, Finding Dory, Forrest Gump, Flipped, Friends with Benefits.

Names I Like: Fiona, Frida, Francesca, Frankie for a girl, and Finn (hola, Lane! haha).

Some of your “firsts”: Not really sure what this means, heh.

And now, onto the random questions!

Do you have loud farts or are they silent but deadly? Honestly, I hold back farts on purpose so I’m not super in touch with mine. I know it’s a normal bodily function and I really don’t know why, but I personally always just found it gross while I’m fine with burping lol.

How many friends do you have? I have a large enough circle that counting every single one of my friends would be a lot of work.

Have you ever had a pet fish? Yeah, mostly when I was younger. We went through several goldfish.

Have you made/worn friendship bracelets? Sure. For some reason they became kind of a trend back in like 2016, so it was one of the things that helped Gab and I bond when we were mending our friendship after the breakup. I bought the both of us a pair of matching bracelets first, and she did the same.

Do you enjoy Fig Newtons? I don’t know what those are.

Do you wear things with floral patterns on them? I’m definitely not opposed to them! I have a few floral jumpsuits.

What’s your favorite flower? Peonies. I also like roses and sunflowers.

How about your favorite fruit? I hate fruits. I do like avocado, but I’ll only have it if it’s part of a meal like an avocado cheesecake, or avocado shake.

Are you more fearful or fearless? For now I’d say fearful. I don’t know a world outside school just yet, so there’s still a lot left for me to pick up, learn, explore.

What’s your favorite flavor of fudge? I don’t eat fudge and didn’t even know it was a whole separate food. I’ve always thought fudge just pertained to brownies.

Aren’t flies annoying? The actual bane of my existence. If you want 3x the normal amount of flies (though I don’t see why anyone would want that), go to Southeast Asia.

Have you ever flown in an airplane before? Yep, many times. I’ve never gotten over it; I always feel childlike excitement whenever we have to travel by plane.

Do you wish that you could fly? Yeah it’s like the first superpower I ever wanted. As early as when I was around 6 or 7 flying to me meant getting to places for free and skipping all the boring stuff like passports and immigration lol.

Do you play with fire? Absolutely not. I’m so scared of fire. A few days ago my dad was busy and he was asking me to lower the heat on the rice pot that was already boiling, and I swear I had to mentally prepare myself before I went ahead and did it lol.

Have you been in many fights? I’ve had my share of drama with a number of people, but I prefer being shadily passive aggressive than being involved in full-blown screaming matches or physical fights.

What does your flag look like? It has a white triangular section on the left side, with three stars and a sun. The rest of the flag is horizontally divided into blue and red, with blue being on top if the country is at peace and red if otherwise.

Do you floss regularly? Eh, sometimes.

Have you ever fractured a part of your body? No, just a sprain.

Do you listen to Five Finger Death Punch? Nopes.

Do you like going to fairs? They’re alright I guess, as long as I’m with the right people. I wouldn’t get on the rides though. I’d just tag along to have a reason to be out of the house and to see my friends having fun.

Would you consider a job in forestry? I’m personally not interested but it’s such an underrated career, especially where I live. Boomers like to look down on it when it’s a really important job.

Do you cover your leftovers in foil? No, we put them in containers and place them in the fridge until someone wants to heat it up.

Does it get foggy often where you live? Not in this part of the city, which is the lower section. When going to the upper part, which is on a mountain, it gets foggy in the morning around the months of December and January, when it’s the coldest.

How often do you feel foolish? At least twice a day, I’d say.

Have you ever thrown a coin into a fountain and made a wish? Yeah, I’m still a child in that way.

Do you go on Fmylife.com? No.

Would you rather visit Florence or France? Florence.

Have you ever used a fly swatter? I don’t think I have, no.

How big are your feet? Eh, not that big. I’m a size 6/7.

Do you have filthy thoughts? It happens, but they don’t run all day lol.

Have you ever flashed someone before? Kinda...we were staying at a hotel and I was feeling bored and silly, so I went up the window and quickly flashed to everyone driving down the highway at that moment. It’s a tall building and we were on one of the higher floors, so I for sure doubt that anyone saw; it was just a silly thing to do at the time haha.

Can you do any flips? Nah.

Flobots or Florence and the Machine? Florence + the Machine.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#survey #surveys

1 note · View note

flowrxchild · 5 years ago

Text

🌼Get To Know Me Tag🌼

Thanks @satans-helper for tagging me!!! This is gonna be a long one so if anyone feels it’s necessary, please tell me to shut up! oke doke les do it❤️

1. What’s your middle name?

Olivia!

2. How old are you?

20, very cool and very funky years..

3. When’s your birthday?

January 8th

4. What’s your zodiac sign?

Capricorn 🐏 also an Aries rising, Libra moon if anyone cares lol

5. What’s your favourite colour?

Rn it’s yellow!

6. What’s your lucky number?

Ok I rlly gotta pick one soon cuz I just don’t have one lol

7. Do you have any pets?

Used to have a chubby brown lab but she was an old girl:( BUT recently I have fed a stray cat enough for him to come back everyday so he is now mine by Ricky Law™️

8. Where are you from?

Toronto, Canada baybee

9. How tall are you?

5’5

10. What shoe size are you?

7 and a half? I think?

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

Not that many like 5 tops lol

12. What was your last dream about?

Last night I dreamt about going horse back riding?? I woke up like ...she’s a horse girl, I knew it..

13. What talents do you have?

I can draw/paint?? Also I’m a pretty snazzy photographer

14. Are you psychic in any way?

I’m definitely intuitive...I’ve experienced some very strange coincidences in my life...

15. Favourite song?

Jimi Hendrix’ Voodoo Chile

16. Favourite Movie?

Moonrise Kingdom

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

*stares in Josh Kiszka yearn*

18. Do you want children?

Erm not sure yet

19. Do you want a church wedding?

Lol I want whatever the opposite of a church wedding is..

20. Are you religious?

Nope.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

Yes. I’m so clumsy I am a danger to myself at this point...

22. Have you ever gotten in trouble with the law?

No I’m literally a baby chicken and will cry if u raise ur voice at me

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

Not formally? I’ve seen a lot of random celebrities just walking around tho cuz I live in a big city

24. Baths or showers?

Showers, practically but I love me a good bath now and again

25. What color socks are you wearing?

Im not wearing any ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ;-) Sam Kiszka tease ;-) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

26. Have you ever been famous?

One time my painting was put into a community art gallery and they took my photo for the local newspaper except they made the centre fold of the page fold into the picture around my face so it got all distorted and it was like when Mike Wazowski was in the Monsters Inc commercial...

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

Not rlly..

28. What type of music do you like?

Rock, folk and indie but I will listen to anything

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Yes. Me and my friends do it every year as a cottage tradition!

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

3...I need to be snuggled AND supported

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

I don’t sleep unless I curl up into the smallest ball possible like a friggin cat

32. How big is your house?

She smol

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

Literally just coffee most days. I love anarchy

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

Nope. Don’t have the desire to either.

35. Have you ever tried archery?

I have not but I’ve always wanted to!

36. Favourite clean word?

Cozzy

37. Favourite swear word?

Cunty but like as an adjective

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

Not rlly sure...probably only a day. I’m a very sleepy person

39. Do you have any scars?

Yep

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

If I told you, they wouldn’t be secret ;-)

41. Are you a good liar?

No not at all. My face gives it away so badly

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I like to think so. My first impressions of people tend to be true.

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

Ya but not well ahsgag

44. Do you have a strong accent?

I don’t think I do, but my family from the states always says we have the stereotypical “Canadian accent”.

45. What is your favourite accent?

I loooove Irish accents. I find them very pleasing to hear!

46. What’s your personality type?

INFP-T to be precise

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

My prom dress I think? I got it a Free People for 90$ and at that store, that’s a steal...

48. Can your curl your tongue?

Yeth

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

If this is referring to my belly button then, innie

50. Left or right handed?

Right handed

51. Are you scared of spiders?

Ew ya

52. Favourite food?

Ok my fave food is also my fave foreign food and it’s Indian!

53. Favourite foreign food?

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

messy...ITS CAREFUL CHAOS OK?

55. Most used phrase?

I really am not sure...

56. Most used word?

probably ‘like’. Yes I’m gen Z, yes I have trouble articulating my thoughts. And what about it???

57. How long does it take you to get ready?

I need at least an hour...I like to plan

58. Do you have much of an ego?

I don’t think so??

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

If you bite lollipops, you’re in jail now, I don’t make the law.

60. Do you talk to yourself?

Yes, I’m the funniest person I know.

61. Do you sing to yourself?

Yes, funny you ask, I’m not only the funniest person I know, but also North America’s greatest entertainer!

62. Are you a good singer?

No! But I will preform for myself and the spiders living in my room. Yes, we exist!

63. Biggest fear?

Losing the people I love, being trapped.

64. Are you a gossip?

No yuck i hate it.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

this is too broad and difficult but The Witch. It’s spooky and dramatic.

66. Do you like long or short hair?

I don’t rlly have a preference...

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

Probably if I try really really hard lol as a Canadian, this is a good road trip game

68. Favourite school subject?

Art or English!

69. Extrovert or introvert?

Introvert

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

No but something about makes me anxious

71. What makes you nervous?

I would really love to find something that doesn’t make me anxious. Let’s start with that.

72. Are you scared of the dark?

No! I find it comforting sometimes actually

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

Depends. I hate confrontation so I only do it if it really matters...

74. Are you ticklish?

Ok I wanna know who isn’t! Like whomst is not ticklish??

75. Have you ever started a rumour?

I hope not...I would feel very stinky

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

If by authority you mean telling my sister to get out of my unassigned-assigned spot on the couch even though my voice cracks a little as I do it causing her to laugh even harder, than yes.

77. Have you ever drank underage?

Yes. *police sirens grow closer*

78. Have you ever done drugs?

I have done a weed or 2. Yes

79. Who was your first real crush?

My neighbour lol

80. How many piercings do you have?

3! My ears and also my cartilage! Used to have my septum, but it caused me too many problems so i let it grow over :(

81. Can you roll your R’s?

Ya!

82. How fast can you type?

So fast *spongebob voice* wanna see me do it again?

83. How fast can you run?

I would probably be the first to go in a horror movie

84. What colour is your hair?

Dark brown

85. What colour are your eyes?

Brown

86. What are you allergic to?

Nothing substantial.

87. Do you keep a journal?

Ya I do!

88. What do your parents do?

My mums a school secretary and my dads a fraud investigator

89. Do you like your age?

U know what, ya..I can’t complain.

90. What makes you angry?

Injustice and rudeness

91. Do you like your own name?

Ya I don’t mind it

92. Have you already thought of baby names if so what are they?

I mean I have names that I like but it’s not something I write down so I always forgot lol

93. Do you want a boy or a girl child?

I really couldn’t care less

94. What are your strengths?

Physically, I’m a sack of bones with the upper body strength of a new born baby but I like to think my sense of humour makes me tolerable *finger guns*

95. What are your weaknesses?

I am one frightened human bean.

96. How did you get your name?

Tru story: throughout my moms whole pregnancy, everyone including the doctors were convinced I was gonna be a boy because they could never get a clear look at me in the ultra sounds so my parents had only picked out boy names until I was born to which they changed their choice of “Eric” to Erika :))

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

Not at all lol

98. Do you have any scars?

Did I already answer this one? I think I did?

99. Colour of your bedspread?

White with pink floral pattern! (From ikea lol)

100. Colour of your room?

It’s an off-white

Ok I wanna tag these lovely beans @pe2chie @turntonightfirelight @camomillacatalina @witchgoddess @blackdressedtinyone 💗💗💗

#tag game #get to know me tag #ty!!

14 notes · View notes

nicolabarth · 6 years ago

Text

Birthday Fic: Fangirl’s Heaven

Pairing: Lucifer/Sam Winchester, side Michael/Dean Winchester

Summary: Sam's roommate Becky is a huge serial killer fan, but he's never expected her to invite her celebrity crushes home.

Warnings: Serial Killer AU, serial killer fandom, lots of fangirling, Becky is creepy, crack

A/N: I wrote this for @coplins‘ birthday. Happy Birthday! You said you wanted lots of bickering. So here you go.

Also, I want to thank my beta readers @askatosch, @brieflymaximumprincess and @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell

Read it on AO3

Sam probably needs to find another roommate. It’s not that Becky Rosen isn’t friendly. She’s even stopped being too friendly after some very stern words. But ever since she learned that he’s fascinated by serial killers and knows the body count and the MO of some of them, she thinks he’s one of those people. One of the people that write love letters into prison. Like Becky herself does every week.

That’s probably also why she thinks it’s okay to yank open his door one evening and screech: “The Archangels are free!” on the top of her lungs. As if that’s good news.

Sam looks up from the book he’s been trying to make sense of. “Didn’t they have a life sentence?” He asks.

“They totally did!” Becky is bouncing with barely contained enthusiasm. “But they broke out last night! Tumblr is going nuts right now! I already wrote another Michael x Reader where he needs the reader to hide him and it’s getting new notes by the minute!” She gets a dreamy look, staring at a point past Sam’s right shoulder. “And we’re forming a prayer circle for them to stay safe, and I know it won’t happen, but if Michael showed up here, I wouldn’t even care, if he killed me.”

For a moment, Sam kind of hopes he would, because that would spare him Becky listing everything she likes about Michael – which is a long list. He knows, because he’s heard it already more than once. “You know they’re not actually the typical serial killers?” He says to distract her. “They’re contract killers. So unless someone wants you dead–”

“Yes!” She interrupts him, beaming. “I’m mostly safe, right? I’m just saying, those hands? Imagine them wrapped around your neck!”

So much for distracting her. And that’s another thing Becky assumes about Sam. That the fact that he’s bi means he totally agrees with her when she talks about things she finds hot in men – and that he wants to hear about it. At the beginning he’s tried to stop her, but there’s no stopping Becky when she’s in gushing mode.

“Oh, and what I’d give to touch those abs at least once!”

“Becky,” Sam tries anyway, “I have a test tomorrow.”

“Sam! The Archangels are free! How can you think about tests right now?”

“Right.” Sam sighs. “Maybe you should check how many notes your new œuvre has by now.”

“Oh! Yes! I should!” With that she’s gone and Sam can concentrate on his studies again.

He’s almost ready to go to bed, when there’s a knock on the door of their little student apartment. Frowning, he starts towards the door, but Becky is faster. Sam can hear her moving in the small hallway with it’s kitchen niche. She unlocks the door, then there’s a gasp.

“Oh my god! OH MY GOD!”

If Sam hadn’t known better, he would’ve said Michael was standing outside, judging by Becky’s reaction. But it was probably just some other guy she was having a crush on. She was getting new crushes every week.

“Sssh,” comes a voice. Someone steps into the apartment, then there are more footsteps, more people.

“Oh my god!” Becky says again. The end of it is muffled, as if a hand is clasped over her mouth.

“Raphael, left door,” the voice says. “Lucifer, right door.”

Or maybe it really is the archangels, because Sam knows those names. For a moment he’s frozen in disbelieve. What the fuck did Becky do? She probably gave Michael her address when writing all her love letters didn’t she? In hope of getting one back. Of course she did. Sam curses silently, then hurries to his nightstand. In the upper most drawer, there’s a gun. He manages to wrap his fingers around the handle, before there’s a voice from the door.

“I’d drop that, if I were you. And then turn around. Slowly.”

Damn. Sam lets the gun go and turns around, lifting his hands. In his door stands a blond guy that he remembers vaguely from some Tumblr posts Becky has shown him. Even though those had always revolved around Michael, sometimes the other Archangels had been mentioned too.

So, this is Lucifer. The pictures hadn’t done the intensity justice with which his blue eyes look at Sam. He gives Sam a quick once over, lifts an eyebrow in a way that may imply that he likes what he sees, and motions for Sam to come closer. “Join us out here, will you?”

Sam slowly lowers his hands again, because he feels stupid with them up, but keeps them in sight. He knows the drill from when he’s still worked with his dad and Dean. They’d gotten into trouble often enough. That’s also why his heartbeat stays mostly steady, and only his thoughts are racing, going through his options, trying to assess his chances of making it out of this alive.

He walks closer toward the door, while Lucifer steps out into the hallway again. The gun always stay on him, though. Sam ignores it and looks around. By Becky’s door there’s a shorter man, talking to someone inside her room. And then there’s Michael, who has Becky backed against a wall, knife at her throat and one hand clasped over her mouth.

“You know,” Sam says. He can’t help it, because this is kind of funny. “That’s probably one of her fantasies.”

That makes Lucifer snicker.

Michael pulls a face as if he knows exactly what Sam means. Of course he does. He’s read the love letters. He doesn’t look happy about it, though. “Who are you?” He asks.

“Roommate,” Sam says. “Didn’t tell you about me, did she?”

“Which is a shame,” the short man by Becky’s door says. He must be Gabriel. “Not mentioning someone so–” He catches a dark look from Lucifer and grins. “Freakishly tall,” he ends his sentence.

Michael turns his attention to Becky again. “When you basically invited me to stay here, what did you imagine your roommate would say about that?” He takes his hand away from her mouth.

“You invited him to stay here?” Sam bursts out.

“I’m sorry, Sam!” Becky says. “But how could I not?” Slowly, she lifts a hand and puts it on Michael’s chest. A blissed out expression drifts over her face. “You’re even more beautiful in real life. Your lips, they’re–”

“Answer my question,” Michael interrupts her, knife digging a bit deeper into her skin.

Now there’s a hint of fear on Becky’s face. “Well, I figured you’ll be able to deal with him.”

Wait, did she just really …? “Did you just imply that they should kill me?”

“Wow,” Gabriel comments. “I hope she wasn’t your friend. I’d hate to have friends like that.”

“I’m sorry, Sam!” Becky almost sounds like she really is. “But you have to understand.” Her hand travels up Michael’s chest, and he scowls, grabs her wrist and pins it against the wall. That makes her gasp, and Sam doesn’t even want to be able to tell, if that’s a shocked or an excited gasp. He would almost feel sorry for Michael, if his brother or associate or whatever didn’t still have a gun pointed at Sam.

“Can we not?” Lucifer asks. “I kinda like him.”

Well, at least that’s slightly reassuring. Before Sam can say anything to his defence, the door to Becky’s room opens completely, and a woman with dark hair and high cheekbones appears in the entrance. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Well,” Gabriel says, “to our stuck up brother’s defence, we don’t exactly have many friends right now. And she sounded loony enough to be the real deal and not a trap.”

Raphael rolls her eyes. “From what I’ve seen on her computer screen, she definitely is the real deal. I would advise not to read, by the way. Unless you want a description of all of our brother’s … assets in great detail.”

Sam can practically hear Michael roll his eyes. “So no bugs anywhere?”

“No bugs,” Raphael says. “She’s really just a fan.”

“Of course I am!” Becky exclaims. “I’m your biggest fan! Of course I understand that you have to be careful, but–” Michael puts his hand over her mouth again.

“Gabriel, take a closer look at her computer,” he says. “And Lucifer, make sure the roommate doesn’t tell on us. I don’t care how.”

Now Sam’s heart starts to race, while Lucifer backs him into his room again. “Listen,” he hurries to say. “I don’t mind, if you crash here for a while. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

On his way backwards, his knees bump into the edge of his bed, and he half falls half sits down. Lucifer steps closer, barrel of his gun almost touching Sam’s forehead now. And Sam really doesn’t want to be a second Becky, but those blue eyes are mesmerizing. He finds himself staring up at them without being able to look away. “You’ll understand that we can’t just take your word for that.”

“‘Course,” Sam says. He wracks his head for something to say that would make sure he stays alive. Instead he just starts babbling. “But I’ve been there myself. Dad did all kinds of illegal business. My brother is actually in prison right now.” Wait, isn’t Dean in the same prison the Archangels have been. Maybe he can use that? “Maybe you know him. Name’s Dean Winchester. He’s sitting for credit card fraud and burglary.” Hopefully, they don’t know and hate him. It’s been a while since Sam has spoken to Dean. They hadn’t parted on the best terms.

“Dean Winchester?” Now there’s a grin on Lucifer’s face again. “Mike!” He calls. “I think I found your boyfriend’s brother!”

“Don’t kill him!” Michael calls back.

Sam collapses in relief. Michael’s boyfriend? What the fuck? This is the craziest coincidence to ever happen, but right now he takes anything he can get. Lucifer puts his gun away, still grinning. “He wanted to break out with us, got caught, though. Said you’d maybe help us, but he wasn’t sure about it and he wasn’t even sure where you live these days.”

“Well, I’ve been trying to stay out of trouble,” Sam says and can’t help that it sounds a bit reproachful. Now that it’s established that they won’t kill him, he feels bolder. “So it’d be really nice, if you didn’t get caught while staying here. But I’ll help you alright.”

“You can always say we forced you to help us.” Lucifer looks him up and down again, tip of his tongue visible in the corner of his mouth for a moment. “I can always hold you at gunpoint again. You know, that bitchface you made was glorious.”

Sam throws him exactly that bitchface again, and Lucifer laughs. “Wouldn’t be against tying you up either, if you prefer that,” he adds.

“How about you buy me dinner first?” Great. The whole situation is such a throwback to old times that he starts quoting Dean now.

“Good idea,” Lucifer says. “How about I buy you dinner as soon as we’re not number one topic of the news anymore?”

“Seriously?” He’d thought Lucifer was joking. Is he really flirting with him?

Lucifer opens his mouth to answer, but before he can say anything, Gabriel calls from the other room. “Lucifer! Come and look at this!”

“Not now, Gabriel!” Lucifer calls back.

“Seriously! You have to see this!”

Lucifer rolls his eyes, then he extends a hand to help Sam up.

“I have a test tomorrow!” Sam protests.

“And you can go and take your test, but for the time being, I’m not giving you alone time with a phone. Trust is a thing that has to be built slowly.” Lucifer winks. “Also, you don’t expect all of us to bunk in fangirl number one’s room, don’t you?”

Sam had kind of hoped that. “I’m not sharing my bed.”

“That’s a pity, but we’ll make do. Come on now.”

With a sigh Sam takes Lucifer’s hand and allows himself to be pulled to his feet.

Next door Becky is sulking in a corner, while Gabriel and Raphael are huddled together in front of her computer. Michael is leaning against the wall next to the door, arms crossed in front of his chest, not looking amused at all.

“I’ll tell the whole fandom that you’re pretty rude to your fans!” Becky complains.

“We kill people for a living,” Raphael says. “What did you expect?”

“Well, I never liked you anyway!” Becky spits.

“Raphael has killer abs, too!” Gabriel chimes in. He’s rewarded with her elbow in his ribs and a bitchface from Becky.

“I’m not one of those shallow fangirls!” Becky insists. “Of course Michael has the looks of a greek god, but I’ve also analysed all of his kills, and it’s obvious that he’s always very gentle and merciful. That’s what drew me in!”

Next to Sam, Lucifer is laughing silently. “Gentle and merciful.” He snorts. “If you call burning people alive merciful, sure. But maybe you should live up to your reputation and be nice to your fan, Michael. Maybe give her an autograph to make her happy or something.”

In her corner Becky visibly perks up. Well, at least she’s easy to appease.

Gabriel turns to Lucifer and motions for him to come closer. “Come, look! There’s a whole fan community dedicated to us! You wanna know what they say about you?”

Lucifer glances at Sam with a doubtful look in his face. “Do I?”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to grin. “You probably don’t.”

“You’ll hear it anyway,” Raphael says dryly.

“Damn right, sis!” Gabriel turns towards the screen again. “This here is great! It’s a post about Lucifer not sitting in chairs properly during all our court dates. The caption reads: ��Luci, my precious murder baby. Do you even know how chairs work? Look at him! So adorable!’”

“Did they seriously call me adorable?”

Sam can’t help it, he laughs, even when Lucifer throws him a murderous look.

“Well, let’s see what they write about you.” Lucifer grabs the back of Gabriel’s chair and pulls it back, away from the computer.

Gabriel tries to get up, but Raphael puts a hand in the middle of his chest and pushes him back. “Payback,” she says with a pleased smile. Sam definitely likes her.

In the meantime, Lucifer starts a search for Gabriel’s name. “Oh, look at this!” He calls. “Smol bean Gabriel. Too pure for this world. My sugar loving son. Protect him at all costs!”

Gabriel huffs. “I only ate candy during one court date! One!”

Now even Michael laughs. “They’ll send you lollipops until the day you die.”

“And probably put them on your grave, too,” Lucifer adds.

“Well, at least they love me,” Gabriel says. “Not gonna argue against a crowd of adoring fangirls. And boys. Do I have fanboys, too?”

“And fan nonbinary people probably,” Lucifer says. “It looks like a big crowd.” Then he starts a new search. For a while, there’s silence. “Hey!” He says after a moment. “Apparently ‘gay for Raphael’ is a search tag.”

“Finally some good content.” Raphael lets Gabriel go and steps next to Lucifer. “Let me see.”

Grinning, Lucifer steps back until he’s next to Sam again. “So …” He says in a low voice. “About buying you dinner.”

Sam smiles. “If you don’t make me fail my test, I’ll consider it.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely make sure you pass that test.”

The Archangels stay for a few days, and it’s pretty crowded, but also kind of nice. Sam realizes that he missed Dean, and it’s good to hear news from him. When they finally decide to move on, Sam holds Michael back for a moment. “If you get Dean out later, let me know.”

Michael nods. “You should visit him in prison while you still can.”

Sam smiles. “I’ll consider it.” He probably will.

The next moment there’s a hand on Sam’s shoulder. He turns to look straight into Lucifer’s icy blue eyes. “I’ll let you know about that dinner date.”

He’s definitely persistent. Sam’s smile gets a bit wider. “You do that.”

And that’s the point where they should say goodbye, but for a moment none of them moves. Finally, Lucifer leans forward a bit. Sam’s hands move almost by themselves and find their way to Lucifer’s waist, pull him closer until they’re flush chest to chest.

The next moment their lips meet. It’s a very chaste kiss at the beginning. Then the tip of Lucifer’s tongue flickers out, and Sam chases it, wants more.

A breathless “Oh my god!” from the direction of Becky’s room makes them break apart. When Sam looks over Lucifer’s shoulder, Becky is standing there, hands clasped to her heart. “Don’t mind me! Oh, you’re so cute together! I totally ship you!”

Lucifer pulls a face and Sam can feel himself do the same. He leans closer to Sam’s ear. “You should get a new roommate.”

Sam nods.

A few moments later they’re gone. And Becky leans against the kitchen counter, fanning herself. “Oh my. That was something! They are pretty rude, of course! But everybody will be so jealous of me! And you and Lucifer!” She gets that dreamy look again. “I totally have a new ship!”

Sam very much hopes that doesn’t mean there’ll be fanfic about them, but he fears there will. He makes a mental note to never google himself ever.

“Becky,” he says. “If you tell anyone that they were here, I’ll kill you.”

“Oh my,” Becky says with a smile. “You really fit right in, don’t you?”

He really has to get a new roommate.

Tagging: @schizonephilim@coffee-queen448@little-boyking @solo-skywlker @talkmagically@whinywingedwinchester @spn-you-idjits@samwise-the-true-hero @hooker-legs@consultingmooseintimeandspace@savagearchangelforthewin2-0 @me-fangirl@hardcorefangirlgroupie@thisisnotsteva@wearemykingdom @cat-n-claw

#samifer #sam winchester #lucifer #archangels #spn #supernatural #thearchangelnetwork

54 notes · View notes

ellenembee · 7 years ago

Text

The Revelation of All Things - 58. In which the truth is disappointing as usual

Read the full fic on AO3.

Read on Tumblr (desktop)

Evana braced her hands against her knees as a newly regained memory seared through her consciousness. The Nightmare had stolen the memories, and part of her wished she could just let it keep them.

She was a sham after all and the mark nothing but an accident - a result of her bumbling interference in a ritual Corypheus had begun, using the Divine as a sacrifice and the Grey Wardens as his stooges. She'd walked in and distracted Corypheus long enough for the Divine to knock the orb from his hand. Then, like an idiot, she'd picked up the elven orb. It had seared her with the mark that Corypheus had planned for himself. The rest, as they say, was history.

And she was nothing but an accident.

But the Divine had led them to those fragments of her first trip to the Fade hoping they would allow Evana to better understand her enemies, so she gritted her teeth and bore the shame. Unfortunately, as she relived the experience, everyone around her got to see inside her head as well. They all knew she was an accident, too.

So that's pleasant.

To think, she'd almost come to believe in this shemlen Maker. As they moved forward, she found her hand reaching again and again to press against the coin under her armor. Creators take her... if she was this upset, how would Cullen feel to know his lover was a charlatan? And what must Cassandra think? The Seeker was terribly quiet, even as Varric and Hawke bantered back and forth about the nature of the thing presenting itself to them as the Divine.

They pressed on, fighting through waves of demons as the form of the Divine cleared as much of their path as possible. As they fought through another pit of demons and wraiths, the fear demon began speaking to them, taunting them. She cringed every time it spoke, only half paying attention to the spells she let fly from her fingers - all of them muscle memory with zero strategy - as she waited for her turn to be shamed by the demon's acerbic tongue.

She had so many fears to choose from... though perhaps her biggest had already been revealed. She was a fraud.

"Dirth ma, harellan," the demon's voice echoed around them. "Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din."

For a moment, Evana's heart stopped at the elven words, but as she struggled to translate what the demon said, Solas spit out a disgusted, "Banal nadas."

Although the demon's words had apparently been for Solas and not her, they left her uneasy - especially the part where it called Solas a trickster. The Nightmare, however, had already moved on. Cassandra was next, and again, by extension, Evana.

"Your Inquisitor is a fraud, Cassandra. Yet more evidence there is no Maker, and all that your faith has been for naught."

One of Cassandra's beautiful noises of disgust echoed through the Fade. "Die in the Void, demon."

Evana looked over to find Cassandra giving her an encouraging smile, and she gave the Seeker a bemused smile in return. How did Cassandra do it? Evana's own faith had been nascent, barely there at all. But perhaps Cassandra's faith was rooted in something else? If they... when they made it out of here, Evana determined to ask Cassandra about it. If anyone could help make sense of all this, it was the Seeker.

Evana's head whipped toward Varric as the demon struck at her friend with the one thing that could hurt him most. His jaw set in determined indifference as the deep, creeping voice echoed off the rock walls around them.

"Once again, Hawke is in danger because of you, Varric. You found the red lyrium. You brought her here..."

"Just keep talking, smiley," the dwarf spat out through clenched teeth.

Finally, Evana came across a final set of memories. As she collected them, the flash of running to the rift, of the Divine running close behind her, and then the Divine being ripped from her hand... No, not being ripped away as much as letting go so that Evana could escape. Evana shook off the memory and hesitantly approached what she now knew had to be a spirit.

"It was you. They thought it was Andraste sending me from the Fade, but it was the Divine behind me. And then you... she died."

The spirit hesitated a short time before responding with a simple, "Yes."

Stroud's voice was low and hesitant. "So this creature is simply a spirit."

Hawke, who hadn't quite gotten over the seeing the Grey Wardens holding the Divine up as a sacrifice for Corypheus, rolled her eyes at Stroud. "I think we all knew that was the case, Warden."

The spirit's face took on a sad countenance. "I'm sorry if I disappoint you."

Then they watched as the spirit shook off the physical form of the Divine and morphed into a glowing gold light. Evana buried her disappointment. It didn't matter.

"The only thing that's important right now is getting out of the Fade. Whatever you are, you've helped us so far."

Hawke was still miffed. "What we do know is that the mortal Divine perished at the temple thanks to the Grey Wardens."

Evana sighed as Stroud shot back. "As I said, the Grey Wardens responsible for that crime were under the control of Corypheus. We can discuss this further once we return to Adamant."

"Assuming that the Wardens and their demon army didn't destroy the Inquisition while we were gone."

"How dare you judge us? You tore Kirkwall apart and started the mage rebellion!"

Hawke suddenly took two steps forward and almost shouted in Stroud's face. "To protect innocent mages, not madmen drunk on blood magic! Even without the influence of Corypheus, the Wardens go too far. They need to be checked."

Evana, still caught up in Hawke's jab about the Inquisition being destroyed while they were away, barely caught Solas' affirmation of Hawke's words.

"Agreed. The Wardens may once have served a greater good, but they are far too dangerous now."

Cassandra nodded, and Evana was forced to try to pay attention. Apparently, everyone was giving their opinions now... here... as they stood in the Fade...

"The Wardens are a risk. Send them away before they cause even more trouble."

Varric shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. There are a few good ones, but an awful lot of the Wardens I've known went crazy."

Evana finally had enough. The idea of all their soldiers... of Cullen... dead or dying somewhere in Adamant... It was too much. She sent evil stares at her companions and then pushed both Hawke and Stroud away from each other.

"By the will of the Creators! Will all of you please shut up!" She backed away and pointed up to the rift. "We can argue after we've escaped from the giant fear demon. Ok?"

They all had the decency to look chagrined, but it didn't last long. The screeches of the fear demon's minions reached their ears in the next moment, and Hawke's face turned from sheepish to "aww shit" in two seconds flat. Evana looked at Varric.

"Well, now I know where you got it from."

Varric gave her a grim chuckle as he pulled Bianca from her holster. The spirit, still using the Divine's voice, was their Captain Obvious of the moment.

"The Nightmare has found us."

Hawke and Stroud looked at each other, and an understanding seemed to pass between them.

"Form up!" Stroud shouted as her moved to Evana's side.

Hawke appeared at her other side. "I'm with you."

Evana raised a brow at them each in turn. "That's more like it."

They made short work of the "fearlings" as Solas called them. They looked like giant spiders to her, sending chills all through her, but she'd learned earlier that the other saw different things when they looked at the little demons. Cassandra saw moving piles of crawling maggots, for one.

"Come," Solas said as he placed his staff on his back. "Real or not, the Divine is the key to escaping the Fade."

They moved on, but it wasn't long before the Nightmare came after Stroud. "Warden Stroud, how must it feel to devote your whole life to the Wardens, only to watch them fall? Or worse, to know that you were responsible for their destruction? When the next Blight comes, will they curse your name?"

Stroud's response dripped with quiet with rage. "With the Maker's blessing, we will end this wretched beast."

And just like that, the voice turned on Hawke. "Do you think it mattered, Hawke? Do you think anything you ever did mattered? You couldn’t even save your city. How could you expect to strike down a god? Fenris is going to die, just like your family, and everyone you ever cared about. Or wait... is it Varric you most care about? It matters not. He will die, too, and you will have the pleasure of watching."

Evana looked to the Champion, sympathy in her eyes, but Hawke, mouth set in a grim line, kept her eyes ahead. After a moment of tense silence, she shook her head.

"That's going to grow tiresome quickly."

Evana's eyes sought out Varric, who in turn had his gaze fixed on Hawke. The look on his face - more vulnerable and devastated than anything she'd seen from him - tore at her heart.

The Nightmare continued, apparently addressing them all as they continued to fight through another round of fearlings. "Do you think you can fight me? I am your every fear come to life! I am the veiled hand of Corypheus himself. The demon army you fear? I command it. They are bound all through me!"

The form of the Divine gave a breathy laugh as she hovered just ahead of them "Ah, so if we banish you, we banish the demons? Thank you, every fear come to life."

The Nightmare roared in frustration, and Evana let out a hysterical little laugh. She held her nervousness and fear and anger all bound together inside. She could no longer separate one emotion from another. The entire ordeal wore her thin in ways she'd never experienced before, and she followed the glowing golden form of the Divine... or spirit... with a near mechanical step. The Fade seemed to go on forever. Her steps took her nowhere. At every turn, terrors and shades and wraiths hunted them. She tried to tell herself it was no different from any other day in the field, but in truth, it simply felt like a never-ending rift. One from which she feared she'd never escape.

They fought not one, but two Pride demons at once. Then the Divine led them to an open area, but they were ambushed. Evana felt her strength waning as a third Pride demon descended on them. It was, of course, the perfect time for the Nightmare to strike its blow against her. The thing she feared most...

"Dearest Inquisitor, you think all those people will still revere you - love you - once they know? You think he will still love you? You are nothing but an upstart. You are, in fact, nothing at all. Nothing but an accident. He will throw you away, reject you. Just like Hanir. Just like your clan."

Cassandra let out a perfectly timed noise of disgust. "Of course, he will still love her. He has been in love with her for ages. If you think this would change anything, you know nothing of our Commander."

Evana blushed at Cassandra's very specific rebuttal shouted loudly at the greenish-hued sky. The curious revelation that Cullen had been in love with her "for ages" held her attention, though. What did that mean? How did Cassandra know? Evana found herself fighting harder against the demons if only to give herself a chance to ask what Cassandra meant. The fight was over soon enough, but the Divine spirit urged them on. Evana added her questions to the list of things to talk about with Cassandra when they escaped from the Fade.

Then, the strangest thing happened. The Nightmare spoke aloud to someone - but it was no one in their party.

"My little seer, where have you gone? I can still feel the echo of your delicious fear in the air. I will find you soon enough. There is nowhere for you to hide."

They all stared at each other in confusion. In front of them, the spirit paused, as if listening.

"It is faint as a stone's ripple in an angry ocean, but another presence lingers here." After another moment of silence, it floated forward at a quicker pace. "We must hurry."

They ran forward, eager to be done with the Fade. Rounding a corner, the rift finally came into view.

"The rift!" Hawke called to no one in particular. "We're almost there!"

Varric sighed. "Great one, Hawke. Why not just dare the Old Gods to try and stop you?"

Unfortunately, they emerged into a clearing to find that the Nightmare stood between them and the rift. Of course, it would be in the form of a giant spider. And by giant, she meant monstrous.

"That thing is the size of a mountain," Cassandra commented matter-of-factly as her neck strained to see up to the top of the multi-legged, multi-eyed creature.

Hawke laughed, a harsh sound edged with malic. "Or at least a very large hill. Come on, Seeker. Don't tell me you're not up for a challenge? I can't wait to sink my sword into that thing."

Eager to have it over with, Evana began moving forward. However, the glowing spirit pushed her back and floated forward instead. Her golden shape pulsed as she neared the demon, and the voice of the Divine drifted back to them even as the spirit moved forward.

"If you would, please tell Leliana, 'I am sorry. I failed you, too.'"

And with that, the spirit's glow intensified until they could no longer watch. An explosion pushed them all backwards, though none of them lost their footing, and the Nightmare let out a chilling shriek. The demon fell back, weakened, and Evana didn't even look back at her companions. She charged forward knowing full well they would be behind her.

The demon backed away, curling in on itself and disappearing into the mists. However, it was nice enough to leave behind an aspect of itself to block their path to the rift. The sight of the open rift beyond gave Evana a much-needed second wind. She could almost see Cullen beyond it... almost hear him call out to her.

Evana organized her team for a long fight as the aspect of the demon hopped from one location to another and struck at them with dizzying speed and force. The voice of the Nightmare sent out occasional taunts and jabs, but the disembodied voice had lost its hold on her. It had already revealed her deepest insecurities to her companions. She had nothing left to lose.

It took time - a gradual wearing down of the powerful demon - but finally, the demon fell under their collective power. They all stood around, panting and gaping at each other for a moment, before Evana gathered her wits.

"To the rift! NOW!"

It took her a moment to get her own exhausted body moving toward the rift, but Hawke and Stroud reached out to assist. The three of them were further from the rift than Solas, Cassandra and Varric. Relief coursed through her as she watched them run on toward it and disappear into the realm of the living. Soon she would be through as well.

A small part of her dreaded what she might find on the other side, but even still, Evana nearly cried when the nightmare demon crashed down between them and that glowing green rip in the Veil. She never thought she'd be so angry to be separated from a rift in her life.

"We need to clear a path," Stroud shouted.

Hawke nodded and turned to them both. "Go, then. I'll cover you!"

But Stroud shook head head. "No. You were right. The Grey Wardens caused this. A Warden must-"

Hawke cut him off. "A Warden must help them rebuild! That's your job!" She turned to the Nightmare, her voice gritty and low. "Corypheus is mine."

Evana looked between the two of them with dawning comprehension. "What? No! We either die here together or we emerge from that rift victorious! I will leave no one behind!"

Both heroes shook their heads, and Hawke put a hand on Evana's shoulder even as the Nightmare demon took a menacing step toward them. "No. If we all take on that demon, we all die. Who will stand against Corypheus if you are not there to lead? Who will close the rifts? You at the very least must survive. And then we'll need a strong Warden to rebuild. That's Stroud. I need to make up for my silly mistake of thinking I could kill a darkspawn magister. He got out of that prison in part because of my negligence. I must be allowed to remedy that."

Stroud was already shaking his head. "I am but one of many strong Wardens. Hawke, your own sister could easily lead and rebuild the Wardens here in Orlais. And sacrificing yourself in this way - it does nothing to strike at Corypheus himself. You have more work to do." Stroud turned to Evana, a resigned and yet determined look on his face. "Please, Inquisitor... I have known for many weeks what this encounter would bring. My death in this place was foretold. Just promise me that you will spread the word of how the Wardens were redeemed in the end."

Despite her initial confusion at his words, Evana's tears came on hard and fast as her exhaustion overtook her. She threw her arms around the Warden's neck and whispered hoarsely in his ear.

"Go then. May your Maker guide you, or if he does not, let Falon'din guide you to rest. If you somehow survive, there are many rifts still open. Find one, and come back to us!"

Stroud awkwardly embraced her in return then backed away to bow to her. "Inquisitor. It has been an honor."

With one last look at Hawke, Stroud rushed forward. "For the Wardens!"

While the Nightmare focused on the Warden slashing at it from below, Hawke and Evana ran forward to the rift. With a final look back, she dove through. A steely resolve flowed through her as she raised her hand to the rift and watched Stroud hack and dodge the Nightmare as long as the rift remained open.

Then, as the rift grew ever smaller, Evana noted with surprise that the Nightmare seemed to turn its attention away from Stroud. The screech of anger it emitted was the last thing she heard before she closed her hand into a fist and pulled at the connection. The rift snapped shut with a final, thunderous explosion of light.

The demons in the courtyard fell as the rift magic tore through them, and a cheer rose up through the troops gathered around. A great number of Inquisition soldiers lingered among the Warden warriors, her first indication that all had not fallen apart during her absence. She sent up a quick prayer of thanks and began scanning the crowd for a certain lion-hearted Commander.

Relief rolled through when their eyes locked across the courtyard. He immediately fell to one knee, breathing heavily and leaning on his sword. Concern replaced a measure of her relief at the strange look on his face, but just as she took a step toward him, a tired smile cut through his pained expression. He looked at her like a thirsty man looks at an oasis in the distance.

She tried to smile in return, but the memory of Stroud's sacrifice wouldn't allow it. At least she didn't have to face Varric with the news of a fallen Hawke. Thank the gods for small favors amid this absolute shit show.

The Champion approached her now, gesturing to the Warden mages being released from their bonds on the other side of the courtyard. "She was right. Without the Nightmare to control them, the mages are free, and Corypheus loses his demon army. Though, as far as they're all concerned, the Inquisitor broke the spell with the blessing of the Maker."

Evana sighed and shook her head. Damned lies.

"Once they understand what really happened..."

Hawke was already shaking her head. "They'll be terrified. I for one am tired of giving fear demons anything to feed on. Let them have their story."

Cullen approached her now and hovered close by. She could tell he wanted to touch her, to make sure she was really alive and well before him, but he hesitated with all the people around them. After all she'd been through, however, it was too much to stand on ceremony. She needed to touch him just as much as he did her. She stepped forward, reached out, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Commander. A report for me?"

His hand immediately came up to enclose her forearm in a death-grip, his eyes boring into hers. He nodded and tried to catch his breath, though she couldn't tell whether it was more from all the fighting or from an emotional response.

"Yes, Inquisitor," he finally said. "The archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared, but we've captured the Magister Erimond alive - I thought you'd want to deal with him yourself. As for the Wardens... those who weren't corrupted did help us fight the demons... eventually."

They dropped their hands from each other as a Warden warrior joined them. The armored man bowed before her.

"We stand ready to help make up for Clarel's... tragic mistake. But where is Stroud?"

Evana and Hawke shared a tortured look, and Evana fought back the tears as she raised her voice so all in the main hall could hear her broken words. "Warden Stroud died striking a blow against a servant of the Blight. We will honor his sacrifice and remember how he exemplified the ideals of the Grey Wardens even as Corypheus and his servant tried to destroy you all from within."

The tears flowed freely down her cheeks now, and she felt Cullen's strong hand briefly take hers and squeeze before he stepped back. She took a deep breath and faced the Warden now in front of her. A flare of righteous anger joined her grief just looking at him.

"Now, to atone for your fatal mistake, you will stay here in Orlais and do whatever you can to help destroy Corypheus. Stroud died for the ideals of the Wardens. In war, victory. And we are still at war. Do you believe the Wardens can still help?"

The armored Warden tilted his head. "I do, Your Worship."

Evana nodded. "You are still vulnerable to Corypheus, and possibly the Venatori, but there are plenty of demons that need killing."

Her sensitive elven ears twitched as she heard Solas let out an exasperated sigh and Cassandra grumble a response about giving them yet another chance. Both were clearly displeased, but at this point, she didn't care. This was about ensuring a force remained in Orlais that could fight off a Blight. It was also about honoring a man who died for the sins of his order - sins he himself did not commit.

Evana looked to Hawke again. The Champion clearly felt the same way, but she drew herself up and rolled her shoulders back.

"While they do all the stabby stabbing of the demons, I'll inform the Wardens at their headquarters in Weisshaupt of all that's happened. Best they're not caught off guard." Hawke then made a funny little bow. "Good luck with your Inquisition, lady Herald. Try not to start an exalted march on anything, will you? I'll let you know when I've returned from Weisshaupt. Please don't hesitate to give me any other means to fight Corypheus. I need to finish this." As she began to back away, she saluted Evana, then stopped suddenly. "Oh, and take care of Varric for me. He'll get himself into trouble without me here to look after him."

Evana laughed half-heartedly at Varric's indignant harrumph coming from somewhere in the back of the courtyard. Hawke changed directions instantly and followed the noise. Evana knew the two friends would likely have a long talk before Hawke truly left for Weisshaupt.

She then turned to find Cullen, but he'd moved away from her during her interactions with the Warden warrior and Hawke. He was now speaking with Captain Rylen and a few lieutenants. She almost walked over to them, but Cassandra approached her instead. Evana took a breath and braced herself for a lecture. Instead, the Seeker merely wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her off the dias.

"Come, Inquisitor. You need a healer and rest."

Evana pulled away and shook her head. "No one else is going to get any rest tonight. Why should I?"

"Because you are injured, and your body is going to give out on you soon if you do not see a healer. Look here."

Evana was about to protest again until she followed the Seeker's finger to an apparent hole in the side of her armor. The white armor in that area was conspicuously covered in blood. Her blood. It could be mistaken for a demon's blood except for the fact that it was still flowing... out of her. Where had that come from, anyway? She still didn't feel...

"Ooooohhh... ooooo... why did you do that? I couldn't feel anything until you pointed it out!"

"Which means your body is already in shock. We must get to you a healer. Come now, please."

"Where is Solas? He can-"

"Solas disappeared right after you recruited the Grey Wardens. I didn't have an opportunity to stop him and explain. We'll have to go down to the healer tents outside the fortress unless we can find someone along the way."

Evana let the Seeker put an arm around her waist once again. She saw Cullen turn now and give her a concerned look, but he was still on the opposite side of the injury. He'd not seen it, yet, and really, she was fine. No need to worry him. She gritted her teeth through the sudden and intense pain and then smiled at him, waving him off. He nodded, looking at her for a moment longer before turning back to the soldiers hovering around him and waiting for instruction.

The further they backtracked through the fortress, however, the more apparent it became that this had been an absolute blood bath on both sides. She was sure some of the dead had already been removed, but even the remaining bodies and pools of blood lining the stone battlements galled her. Evana felt the bile rising in her throat as she considered each of these men and women had families, loved ones...

She suddenly broke away from the Seeker to vomit into a stack of hay near a battlement. Every heave caused unbelievable, shooting pain as the torn muscles in her side contracted and tore further. She was crying uncontrollably by the time the heaves subsided, and the sobs made things even worse. Cassandra actually looked quite worried now.

"Inquisitor! There is no time! I must carry you."

Without waiting for approval, Cassandra lifted Evana into her arms as if she were a child. In fact, Evana felt like one as the Seeker hurried through the crowds of people sorting through the bodies trying to find survivors. If she hadn't been so sleepy, she might have felt embarrassed by the whole thing.

Luckily, they didn't have to go all the way to the healer tents to find a healer. The Iron Bull paced through the entry area near the gates and triaged injuries as people came through. The most seriously injured remained at the gates with the most experienced healers, while the rest were sent to the tents over the hills. As soon as he spotted Cassandra, he began roaring out orders.

"You! Clear a spot there. Healers! To the Inquisitor. Now!"

The healers surrounded Evana almost before Cassandra put her down, but she was no longer in a position to care. Darkness encroached on the corners of her vision as the mages started their work, and before they'd even pulled off her armor, the darkness claimed her.

Evana woke to bright light and a warm hand rubbing circles into her clammy palm. She felt groggy and weak, but the pain in her side had subsided. Her mouth tasted of sour bile and felt like cotton. Cracking an eye open, she tried to adjust her eyes to the brightness of the small tent.

"Cullen? Where am I?"

"No such luck, darling. Your lover is out organizing people and such. You know, commanding. The thing he's oh-so-good at besides looking pretty. I'm afraid it's only me, your favorite smart-ass Tevinter mage. And you're in your own tent resting up. Have been for days now."

Astonished, Evana tried to sit up. "Days?"

Dorian pushed her back down on the bedroll. He was sitting beside her on the ground, smirking.

"Steady on! I didn't expect you to take me so seriously. It's only been a few hours since you popped out of that rift like a painting come to life. Just relax. Here, have some water."

Evana drank the water down, swishing it around to get rid of the sour taste in her mouth, and handed the skin back to him. "More, please."

Dorian smirked at her. "Well, at least you haven't forgotten your manners with all that Fade walking."

She groaned and threw her arm over her eyes as she heard him refill the skin from a pitcher in the corner. "Don't remind me. It was... It was awful, Dorian."

The hand returned and gave hers a squeeze before placing the skin in her grasp. She brought the skin to her lips as Dorian consoled her... sort of.

"There, there. Don't think about it right now. Focus on healing. And whatever you do, don't get Solas started. I made that mistake before I found out you were injured." Dorian let out an overzealous sigh, but his voice perked up instantly as he continued on. "Thank you, by the way. Your not-really-but-could-have-been-life-threatening injury gave me the perfect excuse to leave him mid-sentence in order to tend to you. I've never been so glad to be called to a person's sick bed before."

Evana rolled her arm off her eyes and let it land on the bedroll above her head. She graced him with an eye-roll and a wry smile.

"You are so selfless, Dorian. Whatever would I do without you?"

"That is a question I can't answer, my dear. I have no idea what it's like to be without me... though I imagine it's quite dreadful."

She gave a weak chuckle, and Dorian smiled briefly before his face turned serious. "But you should know, your Commander has been by the tent at least ten times in the last four hours just to check in on you. I'm not sure if you're aware, but he's really quite smitten with you. If you're not truly interested, please do let him down easy and then send him my way? I felt quite overwhelmed with all his heroics and find myself falling in love. Why, his stamina alone... I'm sure he hasn't slept at all since the assault, but he's still out there making things happen."

Evana sighed and shook her head sadly. "Poor Bull. He never stood a chance, did he?"

Dorian scoffed. "Against the Commander? Not likely. Although the take-charge attitude Bull exhibited with the healers... and when he started triaging those injuries with such force and grace, muscles rippling as he moved around... that was quite exhilarating to watch." Dorian paused for a moment, tapping his chin with an inexplicably well-manicured finger. "On second thought, I take it back. You can keep your Commander."

"I certainly appreciate that, Dorian."

Cullen's deep voice was followed by his overwhelming presence in the tent. Evana rolled her arm back over her eyes to keep the sudden and unexpected tears from showing.

"Well, that's my cue to be elsewhere, I suppose."

Dorian's hand patted hers twice before leaving it cold. The shuffling stopped for a moment, and she heard Cullen's hushed voice utter a heartfelt thanks to Dorian. The mage, of course, brushed it off. But she knew Dorian was actually quite pleased with the thanks - and she was sure Cullen knew that as well.

Sucking in a tremulous breath, Evana tried to pull herself together, unsure of why she was even crying at all. Perhaps just exhaustion, both mental and physical, was to blame. She gritted her teeth, bit her lip and managed to hold back the tears as she heard him sit on the floor beside her. But just as she thought she'd composed herself, a bare, calloused hand slipped into hers, and his tentative voice split the relative silence of the tent.

"My love?"

That did her in. The tears flowed again, but this time, she was thankful the sobs didn't hurt nearly as much. Cullen's hand gripped hers as he whispered encouraging things to her, and she knew instinctively that he would have gathered her into his lap if he hadn't been afraid of aggravating her injury.

Screw that.

She lifted her arm from her face and reached out to him. Instead of pulling her to him, however, she found herself suddenly surrounded by him as he joined her on the bedroll. He didn't hover over her, but she turned her face into his chest, thankful that he wasn't wearing his armor. His solid presence grounded her, and she gradually quieted.

"I would offer you a handkerchief," he murmured, "but I don't seem to have one with me."

She sniffed rather ungracefully and turned to pull at some of the used cloth strips in the corner. It was her blood on them after all. After even more ungracefully - and rather painfully - blowing her nose, Evana turned to her good side and faced him. Her hand immediately went to his scruffy face and traced the dark circles under his eyes with her thumb.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked hesitantly.

Evana nodded and then asked a question of her own. "Is it true? Have you not slept?"

He gave her a wry smile as he gingerly rested a hand low on her hip. "Too much to do. Although Rylen has already organized sleep schedules for the troops so we can continue to work day and night. He ordered me to get a couple hours of rest a few minutes ago, cheeky captain that he is, but I wanted to see if you were awake. And here you are."

He paused and turned his head to kiss her palm. When he looked back at her, his eyes were serious.

"Why did you not tell me you were injured?"

"I honestly didn't know," she explained. "Cassandra had to point it out to me. It must have happened sometime during that last battle with the..."

Her voice trailed off as everything hit her all over again, and she had to hold back tears that threatened to overtake her once more. Her mark was an accident. She was a fake. And Stroud had likely died so she could continue being a fake. Herald of Andraste? More like a bumbling idiot who needed to be saved by the Divine. Why had the Divine not let her die in the Fade instead? Surely that would have been better?

But the simple fact was, the Divine couldn't close rifts. Whether Evana had been destined for it or not, she alone bore the mark, and now she would bear this cruel turn of fate as well. She would likely die in the end, anyway.

"Evana?"

She shook her head, attempting to dislodge the painful memories. "I... don't know where to begin. And maybe it's just better if I write it all down in a report... Besides, aren't you supposed to be sleeping right now?"

Cullen scooted closer to her on the bed roll. "I would rather stay here with you."

She hummed her approval, but her tone was teasing. "What will your troops say?''

He turned his serious eyes on her again. "I have wasted far too much time worrying about appearances. I don't think it would be wise to flaunt our relationship, but behind closed doors - or tent flaps as the case may be - I will not be influenced by anything other than what the woman I love wants from me."

Her heart thrilled to hear him say the words aloud again, but his voice and face reflected such a mixture of pain and tenderness that she could only stare at him in concern for a few moments before replying slowly, "Are... are you alright, 'ma lath?"

His gaze dropped to the bandages clearly visible under her tunic. Dorian had retrieved a clean one for her from somewhere so she was no longer completely covered in blood, but her breeches still reeked of her own blood as well as the gore of what felt like a thousand demons. When he looked back up, he only met her gaze a few moments before his eyes dropped closed, but she'd seen the unshed tears glistening in them.

"You disappeared. For a time, we didn't know..." His voice broke and descended into a ragged whisper. "I thought... I thought I'd... lost you."

His hand moved away from her hip to cover his face, even as her own hand remained gently cupped around his cheek. A few hot tears slid past his fingers to the bedroll below before he sucked in a deep breath and wiped down his face with his hand. It took a moment more before he removed his hand completely, and even then, he couldn't seem to meet her gaze. Sliding her hand around his neck, she tugged him toward her and pressed her lips lightly against his.

"And yet I'm still here," she whispered against his mouth.

The reminder of their first kiss on the battlements had the desired effect. He chuckled weakly and pressed a kiss of his own to her chapped lips.

"So you are."

She gingerly scooted back from him and patted the bedroll. "Lie on your back."

Finally meeting her eyes, he gave her a confused look but turned to lay back on the bedroll anyway. She then proceeded to gingerly remove her soiled pants.

"Um... what are you...?"

Evana smothered her laughter when she looked over to find him staring at her with wide eyes. She left off shimmying and patted his cheek.

"Just getting comfortable, 'ma lath. Don't get any ideas. The healers wouldn't like it."

He half rolled his eyes at her, but the flush of red across his cheeks gave him away even as he sat up to help her scoot the rest of the way out of the ruined pants. When he laid back down, she pressed herself against his side, stretched an arm out across his chest and rested her head in the crook of his arm.

"Shall we sleep? Cheeky Rylen's orders."

She felt the vibration of his laughter run through her entire body. "As you say, Inquisitor. I am but your humble servant. Although, it will be quite warm soon. You may want to reconsider."

"Will it bother you?"

"That is highly unlikely. I'm struggling to stay awake as it is."

"Then sleep, vhenan."

He raised his head to kiss her forehead and then laid back. One of his hands rested lightly against her lower back and the other covered her own hand where it lay on his chest.

Content for the first time in weeks, Evana's eyes dropped closed as she listened to his breathing fall into the even rhythm of sleep. Then, moments later, she followed him into blessed oblivion.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #da:i #my fanfiction #revelation of all things #revelations #evana lavellan #here lies the abyss #western approach #the fade #cullen x lavellan #angst with a side of fluff #a little sweetness at the end #a new chapter #I'm back!#troat

3 notes · View notes