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marigoldsandbuttercups · 4 years ago

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How do the fellswap gold, undertale and underfell boys annoy their brothers? Every sibling has their petty moments ;)

I went a little too far with this-

How Do They Annoy Each Other

Sans:

- Will go into Papyrus' room while he's there, looks around like he's some sort of inspector, only to push his brother down onto the bed (where he had placed a whoopee cushion prior) and book it, with his brother screaming in the background.

- Will mimic Papyrus in everything he does, all the way down to the way he speaks. He can do an insanely good impression of his brother but insteads just does the goofiest voice to annoy him instead.

- Will absolutely noogie him on the head, despite the height difference. Those shortcuts aren't left to be used for going to different places alone-

- You know that one meme, where the girl is followed by her bro playing the trumpet? That's exactly what Sans does to Papyrus whenever he hears Paps talking about him being lazy as ✨ 💕 payback 💕✨

- Also will low-key moves the objects when Papyrus is busy, but it's so subtle that Papyrus doesn't realize it until he's reaching for the marinara sauce for the sixth time in a row and he can hear Sans wheezing from the next room.

Papyrus:

- Likes to start random snowball fights and never fails to hit Sans straight in the face with one everytime. Little dude could be chilling at his sentry station and the last thing he'll hear is a distant "INCOMING" and WHACK his vision is clouded with snow.

- When Sans is being an ass, Papyrus plays the baby brother card. And by that, he will pull out the puppy eyes to have Sans do his bidding and Sans is annoyed that it works Every. Time.

- And of course, with only Sans raising him for most of his life, Papyrus is exposed to many embarrassing moments. And boy, does he like to recite the time Sans tried to goof around with some snowballs and got them stuck in his sockets because they were parts of the snowman word for word.

- Will deliberately write the most absurd stories and forces Sans to read it every time for him because Sans is his number one supporter, right? He knows what he's doing, and what's a good way to show brotherly love than to subject them to some story that doesn't even act like a story, more like an inner monologue of Papyrus and sans is concerned-

- Along with that, he also will make Sans his personal guinea pig for when he wants to try cooking something new. And oh boy, did he enjoy watching Sans eat up his ketchup and snow sundae and watch as his beloved older brother goes through the five stages of grief before telling Paps that he loves it.

Red:

- Any snarky comment that Edge has is instantly retaliated by Red. He can and will mess with his brother and make him even more annoyed when he wins the battle of wits that day.

- He's a bit of a bully. And by that, being a bully means he has absolutely no qualms about mimicking his brother when he gets on his nerves. Think of that one Spongebob meme and replace it with Red, it's Edge's worst nightmare because Red. Won't. Stop.

- He also likes to find the most cursed and obscure memes and send it to Edge with little to no explanation. You can imagine how great his annoyance was being called "Dababy" by Red for two weeks straight and being sent surprise messages that, upon opening it is that stupid, starsforsaken image!

- Though, they do have.... Brotherly wrestling to get all that anger out of their system. And when this happens, Red likes to do a wet willy and boy, he always sticks a mean one into Edges ear every damn time. Edge does try to prepare for this when they fight, but that bastard seems to have his ways. F in the chat for Edge-

- Red also likes to do that thing where, on occasion, he just flips off Edge for no reason at all with a "ya stink". Cue one angry skeleton and one that can teleport who, upon dodging everytime, says "Ya stanky ass" and proceeds to piss Edge off even more.

Edge:

- While he won't do this in public for obvious reasons, he will pick up Red and make fun of him for his height when man's just minding his own short business- it works everytime-

- Also has a huge amount of prime blackmail material just to bully Red into silence when he's being an ass. Just a casual mention of peeps (yes, the candy thing) and Red goes silent with an angry glare.

- While he doesn't pull dirty tricks like Red does, Edge will tug on the shorter monsters clothes if he was being rather annoying that day. It is the norm for them to roughhouse often so don't be surprised when one of them suddenly shoves the other and snickers loudly to rub it in their faces.

- Also has a tendency to noogie Red just for the sake of it.... Well, somewhat. He's gotten past the days of throwing monsters and people alike out the window. Usually, the noogies are what would prompt the wrestling matches cause Red can't let this slide by-

- Also, this is only when he's feeling ✨extra annoying ✨, he will send one of the hounds to hang out with Red. Hanging out is used very lightly when he throws a bone at the conveniently placed sentry station, almost always getting it into Reds clothes. Ah yes, watching the look of terror on his face as the massive hound rushes through the snow is delectable.

Wine:

- Can and will cry whenever Coffee is about to do something. He's usually Coffees biggest hypeman but stars, he can't help but embarrass his sweet baby brother as well and knows full well that the younger skeleton will take revenge on him-

- That one meme with the Kardashians and the mom going "You're doing great, sweetie"? That's Wine to a T, and he will do this sometimes ironically even when Coffee is eating or doing something with the other skeletons just to tease him and the rest of them.

- Oh, and if Coffee has a fit and talks back? Cue the dramatics as Wine falls to the ground, sobbing like he was in a telenovela and his rent was due tomorrow so he's doing his best. Holds a hand up to the sky, pulls it back and let's out a small, broken sigh. This is a weekly occurrence--

- If Coffee was being a butt that day, Wine would also bring out the baby pictures, saying that he could not believe this young skeleton would do him "so dirty" like this, and the way he says it makes Coffee cringe so bad like no pls stop-

- On top of that, he really, really likes misusing current slangs. If he hears Coffee using any of them within a five mile radius, you bet he's misusing the shit out of it for the next week or so just to mess with him.

Coffee:

- If Wine was being a bit too... Enthusiastic that day, Coffee is definitely hiding some of Wines things. And the man is incredibly good at stashing away things.

- Since he's the baby of the house, Wine, in a way, is not his only older brother anymore. And Coffee knows this irks Wine more than he'd like to admit. And it especially gets him when Coffee goes to Red for some brotherly bonding.

- If Wine or really, any of the more affectionate skeletons go in for a hug, they're gonna be greeted with a gross raspberry and trust me, they hate it so much-

- He also likes to trolls his brother with the ever sophisticated "jebaited". It occurs at random moments when Wine gets a text, thinking Coffee is going to be nice to him only to see that, cue a very frustrated screech.

- If Wine had been a little overbearing, Coffee will come home and head for his brothers bed first, sparing nothing, not even the pillows as he rolls around in them. This is because Wine is a bit of a neat freak and doesn't like it when people lay in his bed before changing their clothes. Oh, Coffee is already in glee at just hearing the tired sigh in his brothers voice.

#I had too much fun with this-#sans #papyrus #undertale #undertale sans #undertale papyrus #underfell #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #fellswap #fellswap sans #fellswap papyrus #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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delimeful · 4 years ago

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let my mind reset (2)

happy holidays, i brought everyone's favorite gift: high tension plot & tragic backstories!

warnings: imprisonment, mentions of death/mass murder/genocide, involuntary drug use, antagonist original character, panic attack, flashbacks, mild injury, taser

Roman wasn’t sure how long he’d been stuck in the holding cell.

His first idea had been to mark the cycles on one wall, to gather his bearings by the sky’s map, but there were no window ports, no view of the universe outside at all. Not even the greatest Crav’n navigator could’ve worked without a single star to go off.

He knew he was on a vessel, at least. Unlike his crewmates, Roman was more than familiar with the difference between artigrav and genuine gravity. They didn’t really understand it when he attempted to describe the sensation, but then, they didn’t seem to get headaches from low-quality antigrav systems, either.

Gods above, his crew. He hoped they were safe, hoped that at least that Human was good for something and would keep them from venturing onto the same moon that Roman had been so underhandedly abducted from.

No, with any luck, they wouldn’t be able to get involved. The way he’d been abducted-- drugged and dragged off-- it reeked of black market smuggling. Whatever they’d nabbed him for, it was probably his species they cared about, not his crew. He tried not to think too hard about what that meant for him, but...

There wasn’t much to do but think, in a cell like this. He had enough space to take three strides, from one wall of bars to the next, and no more. Nutrient gel packs were dropped through the slot of the back wall with alarming irregularity. The neighboring cells were empty, and everything was alway eerily, lifelessly silent.

Roman wasn’t sure how long he’d been stuck in the holding cell, but it was long enough that by the time he heard a distant cacophony, he was instantly alert, scales prickling in anticipation.

The noises grew closer and closer, and a piercing, glowing alarm lit the connecting corridor moments before the door to the cell block was being slammed into. Roman backed up, trying to figure out what sort of internal invasion he’d gotten caught up in.

On the third blow, the door crumpled inward like cheap plating, and an undeniably Human figure stood in the empty frame, panting. Familiar eyes immediately locked onto his cell.

“Virgil?” Roman squawked in alarm. He took a daring step toward the bars, barely believing what his own mind was perceiving. Was this another dream?

“Roman! You’re alive.” Virgil’s shoulders slumped dismissively, as though he wasn’t the one who had apparently boarded an enemy ship to find him. Despite all the questions he had, Roman felt immediately and irrevocably offended.

“No need to look so disappointed,” he growled, making the Human’s face scrunch up unpleasantly.

“What? No-- Never mind. We can chat when you’re out of there.” Virgil hurried down the hall to his cell, gripping the lockbox as though he could pull it apart. “Where’s the key?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Roman hissed, attempting to glance over his shoulder to the open hall the Human had come from. It was empty, for the moment. “I haven’t even seen another person in this place, let alone the vital instrument to my escape!”

Virgil pulled back, freakish eyes strangely wide. “Seriously? You’ve been alone this whole time?”

There was something oddly strained about his voice, but Roman didn’t exactly have the luxury of attempting to interpret whatever the Human was implying at the moment. He felt his tail thumping the floor anxiously. “Can we please focus?”

“Right.” Virgil shook his head sharply, releasing his deathgrip on the lockbox. “Right, uh, maybe I can li-- ghk.”

Abruptly, the deathworlder seemed to freeze up, jaw clenched, limbs rigid, chest still. To Roman’s horror, he spotted a trickle of red spill from the corner of his lips. “Virgil!”

As though the spell had been broken, the Human staggered, and then fell forward, knocking clumsily into the bars and gripping them for support as his breathing started up again, twice as ragged as before. The overhead alarm went utterly quiet.

Now that Virgil had half-collapsed, Roman could see past him, to the door frame.

There was another Human standing there at the threshold.

They were tall, with pallid skin and rust-colored hair cropped shorter than Virgil’s, wearing well-fitted clothes, and with a finger on the trigger of a black, boxy weapon that Roman couldn’t identify. Thin, barely-visible wires connected it to Virgil. Virgil, who had taken four paralyzers at once and managed to keep fighting, but was barely stirring after one hit from this.

He opened his mouth to speak, not knowing what would come out, and his eyes caught on the emblem sewn onto the Human’s outfit.

He knew it.

It felt like his every scale was on end, unfiltered terror coursing through him.

“Found it,” the Human said, completely composed. Their free hand was raised up to an ear, pressing against the communicator there. “Ended up at the Crowned’s block instead of an exit. Should I take it to the reinforced cells?”

There was a pause as whoever was on the other end replied, and the Human glanced to Roman with nothing but ice in their gaze. “And the Crowned? … Of course. Right away.”

Clicking the comm off, they stepped forwards and yanked the wires free, ignoring the way Roman flinched. They poked at Virgil’s leg with the tip of their shoe, and then easily hauled their fellow Human to his feet. Virgil’s eyes went wide at the sight of them, but only for a moment. He immediately bared his teeth, gripped the other right back and dug his fingers in. “Let go.”

“Vicious, are we?” They muttered, unconcerned. “You can’t win, so don’t even try. I’ll be nice and warn you in advance: anything you do to me, I’ll double back onto your Crowned friend over there.”

At the gesture to Roman, Virgil went still, his hold loosening. There was something off about that, Roman thought, but his mind seemed to be working through a thick fog, everything hazy and slow. The unfamiliar Human only nodded, as though they’d confirmed something, and pulled open the cell next to Roman’s before half-shoving Virgil towards it. “In.”

Still unsteady, Virgil stumbled heavily as the door was swiftly shut and locked behind him. The Human turned away, hand already returned to their communicator.

“I need two reinforced cells prepared for our lady. Clean up whatever’s left in them.”

They stepped past the shattered door, out of the room, and were gone. Roman felt his frozen posture thaw slightly, but there was no sense of relief. His pulse continued to race.

A cell over, Virgil leaned heavily against the bars, a sheen of sweat across his skin.

“That rescue attempt,” he said, voice rough, “went less than good.”

Ire rose in Roman hot and fast, like boiling water. It was as good a distraction as any. He turned to Virgil sharply, arms spread aggressively. “What were you thinking?”

“What?” Virgil asked, going still with surprise.

“You shouldn’t have come here. We’re both trapped here now.” He grabbed his own arm tightly, claws digging in. “This isn’t some low-grade smuggling ring you can slaughter your way out of!”

“Roman, I--,” Hurt, and then frustration flashed across Virgil’s face. “Come on, I came to help you--!”

“Oh, what a joke.” Roman snarled, his breath coming faster. “Help me? All you’ve done is gotten us both stuck in an even tighter trap.”

“I wasn’t trying to--”

“Oh, yes, I’ll believe that, coming from a Human,” Roman scoffed, ears flattening back aggressively. His head pounded in rhythm with the painful buzz of the artigrav.

Virgil stood up a little stiffer, eyebrows drawing in. Roman felt an odd vindication. The Human had certainly never made this harsh expression around Patton. “Me being Human doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Roman’s laugh caught oddly in his throat, coming out bitter and shattered. “It has everything to do with this. You think it’s a coincidence that this is the first Human that we’ve run into since you? That they abducted me for no reason?”

Virgil stared at him, glancing at the open doorway the other Human had vanished through. “You know this place.” It wasn’t a question.

“I know these Humans,” Roman corrected sharply, trying to keep the chill from his bones as reality set in. It was harder, now that the heat of his anger was fading out.

“How?” Virgil asked, apparently doing his best to stoke those dying embers. He glanced at the door to his cell, assessing. “If you know something that could help--”

“Nothing can help us!” Roman snapped, breaths harsh and gasping. The walls were drawing closer, pressing down on him. “These Humans took everything from me! Everyone I ever knew, gone in a single night! I’m the only one left!”

There was no sudden ringing silence, no perceptible shift in the universe now that he’d admitted the truth. There was just him, and the Human, still in cells, still doomed.

“I’ve lived-- all this time for-- for them, and Humans,” his lungs were beginning to ache, “Humans can’t even-- won’t let me do that right.”

Virgil moved closer to the bars, slow and uncertain. “Hey. Roman, hey, easy. Roman, you have to breathe. Breathe, okay?”

His voice was lower, softer. Coaxing, like he was luring a small animal out of hiding. It was like watching a Human pretending to be an ally, like watching a Human using the voices of other victims, like watching a Human turn and slaughter his tribe-- his friends-- his family.

The past and present seemed to overlap, an insignia burnt into the Human’s clothes where it hadn’t been before. Roman snarled at him, but the noise came out choked and small, like he was a kit again.

Virgil-- his mother’s murderer-- the Human was still talking, the words echoing and rolling over each other until the noise was indecipherable. There was an undertone of urgency to its voice as Roman backed further away-- pushed himself deeper into the hidden crevice-- hid away like a coward.

When he finally blacked out, it was almost a blessing.

---

When he woke, his cell was different.

It was narrower, and composed entirely of thick, interlacing bars, no solid back wall to lean on. No food slot, either. The space was lit from above, and in the cell next to his, he could see Virgil pacing like a caged animal. The rest of the room was too dark to make out.

The moment he shifted to sit up, the Human’s eyes were on him. “Roman!”

Roman steeled himself, but Virgil was oddly muted, and he stayed firmly on the side of his cell furthest away. Even that meager distance wasn’t far enough to keep Roman’s pulse steady-- or enough to hide the bruised swelling on one side of Virgil’s face. “What happened to you?” he asked, pressing a palm to his own headache. The non-Human one.

Virgil’s hand drifted up to the injury absently. “Made some trouble when they were moving us.”

Roman stared at the injury for a moment longer. If this was how brutal these Humans were to one of their own, he didn’t even want to think about how they’d treat him.

“I called their bluff,” Virgil continued, as though Logan had connected their minds. “Whoever they answer to explicitly instructed them not to let you get hurt.”

“Not yet, at least,” Roman replied darkly.

Virgil just nodded, face tight with stress. “Not yet. That gives us time.” He paused, working his jaw for a moment. “If... if they’ve been keeping you here for this long, maybe we could find other survivors—“

“They’re dead, Virgil,” Roman cut him off, voice flat and toneless. His anger had burned out. “The bodies— I was the only one left to perform the wake afterwards.”

Virgil went quiet. Roman felt his mind slipping back to thick smoke and burnt flesh, and shook himself harshly, one loud rattle of his scales to try and ground himself. “How long was I out?”

“Not long,” Virgil replied, and then paused before Roman could demand a less vague answer. He pressed a finger to his mouth. “Hang on. Footsteps.”

There were a few beats of silence, and then a door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. For a moment, the hallway beyond was enough to cast a dim light over the rest of the room. Roman could make out rows of these narrow, empty cells, enough to hold more Humans than he ever wanted to see again.

It was the same Human from before, and Roman was surprised to find that their lip was split, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been. It was vindicating to see that Virgil had given as good as he’d gotten.

Any semblance of calm fled Roman’s body as the Human walked into the circle of light shining down over their cells, right up to the meager barrier between them. Human limbs were thin enough to reach through the bars, and the thought was enough to make him shift back, flaring up aggressively with every threat display he had.

“Don’t worry, your highness,” the Human said, their eyes rolling strangely in their skull. “I’m not here for you, not this time.”

Almost against his will, Roman’s gaze flickered to Virgil, who was standing stock-still in the middle of his cell, chest rising and falling only fractionally. The Human popped open the cell casually, and then waved when Virgil didn’t move.

“Come on, come on,” they chided, “you have a doctor's appointment to keep.”

Like the words were an igniting spark, Virgil took two running steps forward and launched himself at them.

It was barely a fight. The Human didn’t even hesitate, smoothly catching Virgil by the upper arms and twisting until he went down with a cry of pain Roman had never heard from him before. Even half-pinned to the floor, he continued to writhe and twist, a guttural hiss escaping him.

“Relax,” they ordered impatiently, shaking him once, “they know how to properly sedate here. Anesthetic and everything. You won’t feel a thing.”

Contrary to their attempt, Virgil’s struggles doubled in intensity, thrashing with a strength that seemed to surpass anything he’d displayed in front of Roman or the others before. “No! No!”

The Human swore offhandedly, grabbing something from a pocket. “Damn. Thought that would work, with reports on how you came in.”

In one simple movement, they wrapped their hand around Virgil’s neck, and waited as his struggles became heavy and leaden.

They were killing him, a tiny, panicked voice in Roman’s mind screamed.

He didn’t realize he had crossed the short length of his cell until he was already gripping the bars, rattling against them. “Stop! Let him go!”

The Human glanced up, eyebrows raising slightly. When they lifted their hand, the distinctive white square of a tranq patch was left behind, pressed firmly into the skin.

Not dead. Roman felt a shocking amount of relief, his scales drooping with the force of it. He just… didn’t want to see another person murdered by a Human, that was all.

The Human slung Virgil over a shoulder, recapturing his attention.

Right. Not dead. Just drugged into unconsciousness, about to be dragged off to who-knew-what.

“Wait!” Roman reached out, barely able to fit his wrist past the bars. There was white noise rising in his ears. “Look, it’s me you want, right? To-- To finish what you started, tie up the loose ends. That Human doesn’t have anything to do with this. So don’t do anything-- he’s not involved.”

“Oh, now that’s funny.” The Human laughed, the sound caustic, and leaned in. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, your highness. It doesn’t matter if he’s involved or not. Out here, the only thing a rogue Human needs to do to be targeted is exist.” They paused, mock-thoughtful. “Kind of like you, actually.”

Roman felt his entire being prickle with white-hot fury, a low growl rumbling in his chest. To say that his people deserved to be slaughtered for just existing… Human cruelty really knew no bounds.

“Speaking of,” the Human continued languidly, “I'll be back soon to show you to your own appointment.”

Roman felt his insides turn to ice.

“The boss has finally called for you.”

#sanders sides #wibar #lmmr #let my mind reset #ts virgil #ts roman #original character #writing #my writing #im not exactly happy with how this chapter turned out so im going to say please donnt be too rough on it #also the original character is not a side just 2 be clear #this chapter is a little heavy take care of yourselves #but also remember things get better! promise

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years ago

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Gold Strings & Red Picks- PT 1

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: The Weasley's invented a band! Having a band, means you need a band manager; someone to help find venues, gigs and sponsors. After finding one, Ron seems to be hopeless drawn toward them.

Warnings: flirting, swearing, bickering, sexual tension??, Punk Pining Ron but also Smug Ron, naming a guitar ‘Cherry Popper’, dm me if I missed any.

Notes: I plan on having some chapters kinda spicy. I made an entire gif for this and yes it is Rupert playing 👀 and god is this self indulgent. Hope you guys like it!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWERE~

It was a Friday morning when you quit the Static Dragons and posted the news on every piece of social media you had. It didn’t take long for you to edit your bios to state you were looking for a new band, and it managed to catch someone's eye just as quickly. It was Monday evening when you got a dm on Instagram from a user called ddchrmrs-official. The user basically sent you a paragraph about how he was the lead singer of a band he and his siblings threw together and they were looking for a new manager. You agreed to meet with them and talk about the potential of the band and he agreed, using more than a few explanation marks after his reply. He even sent you a few of their songs once he deemed you worthy enough.

So, you found a dining hall, an equal distance from your house and theirs, and with the lead singer's approval, Fred, you booked it for Tuesday afternoon. Fred even made a post explaining the good news- why he was acting like one of the Weird Sisters followed him back, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t help but be excited too. The songs were good- more punk-rock than you assumed from the band's name. Something about the name Daydream Charmers gave off a softer, boyband type.

The day of the band meeting couldn’t have gone much worse. You missed your morning alarm, you couldn’t find your laptop charger and the clothes you picked out the night before ended up covered in stains from breakfast. GPS even gave you the fastest route and you still managed to be 10 minutes late, but you managed to find the right hall. It was a bit different compared to the pristine image shown on the website.

The roof looked like it was caving under an invisible weight and the actual size of the hall looked like a small barn. The walls were made of red and black bricks, most of which seemed to be chipped, broken or bending, like it was being crushed. The door frame was slanting, the door’s white paint was chipping, the sidewalk was splitting at almost every corner. You were desperately hoping the building was enchanted so it was bigger (and nicer looking) on the inside.

You parked your car on the pebble covered asphalt, right next to an equally old and rusty blue car. You had no idea how four people, a sound system, a bass, an electric guitar and a full drum set fit inside of the small wagon, but figured they managed to spell the inside bigger. You weren’t bothered by it- how could you be? You felt your wand hit your laptop inside the bag as you threw it over your shoulder after climbing out of the car. Shutting the door, you hurried up the broken concrete, shoving your keys in your pocket.

You chewed on your lip, adjusting the collar of your shirt as you approached the door. A smile pulled at your lips at the refreshing sound of genuine laughter and bickering. You had an internal battle of whether you should knock or just barge in. It sounded like they were having their fun and you didn’t want to interrupt anything. Soon enough, the laughter was dying down and someone was strumming a bass quietly, practicing a few chords from one of the songs Fred gave you. You raised a fist to knock on the door and the silence that followed was close to defining. Soft footsteps followed the silence and you swore you could hear soft breathing behind the door before it was yanked open.

“Hey! You made it! We were worried you got lost on your way here.”

You weren’t expecting to be face to chest with an individual. Their band's logo was printed across the front, red letters with a gold outline that clashed drastically with the bright orange fabric of the tight shirt. You tilted your head up, meeting cocoa brown eyes and a crisp white smile. His ginger hair was spread across his shoulders, his ear lobes were pierced with two shiny black flat stud earrings and the little white nostril piercing on the left side of his nose was reflecting the sunlight.

“Fred?” You asked, matching his smile. You could tell he had fun, you could sense it. His arm raised, inadvertently showing off his muscles, and rested against the door frame.

“The one and only.” He grinned, clearly just joking. Before he could say anything else, he was rudely interrupted by a foreign voice behind him. Fred’s smile dropped into a frown like he was suddenly slapped across the face.

“Is it the pizza guy?” The voice asked from somewhere behind him, excitement clearer than crystal. Fred looked over his shoulder to respond.

“No, Ron. That’s not for another twelve minutes.” He rolled his eyes after looking back at you and letting out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry about him. His appetite is larger than Big Ben and it literally never stops. Anyway, I hope you like pizza! I tried to message you about it.” He pulled his phone out of his front pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through his messages and swiping right on notifications he didn’t care for.

“I was using my phone for GPS. Must’ve missed the messages.” Your hands slid into your front pockets, your weight shifting between your feet as embarrassment began to settle in. Maybe this wasn’t the best first impression. Before you could think about it too long, a low whistle was resonating from beside Fred.

Without warning, Fred was being nudged aside by a slightly shorter ginger, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours. They didn’t stay there very long though. They slowly dragged down your body, taking in your form, and his head tilted in appreciation.

“Oh.. I’m not gonna complain about the pizza when Merlin delivered us a cutie.” He gave you a dizzying side smile. “What’s your name, sweetheart? Surely, it’s something as handsome as you are.” Just as quickly as he appeared, Fred was pushing him back, faking a gag while driving the unnamed individual back with Fred’s hand against his forehead.

“Ew! Ron, down! Seriously? Keep your yap shut! He’s our new band manager and I’d actually like to keep this one, thank you.” Fred groaned, a sneer pulling at his lips. He blocked the smaller ginger from the door with his body before turning back to you with a sigh. “I’m sorry. He’s usually not like this. Usually he’s moping about his ex-” You could see Ron jumping behind Fred to get another look at you. The reaction had you snorting into your hands.

“Fred. Fred, move, mate. I wanna see ‘im again!” The ginger whined, tugging at his older brother's t-shirt. He was dodging around Fred’s constant moving hands to get one more peek at you.

Fred let out a groan, his head falling backwards in agony before letting out a loud “George, please help!”

“Wait! Wait, wait!” Ron’s voice matched the panicked hand trying to hold onto the door frame before it was hilariously slapped off the wood and was dragged into the mystery hidden behind the lead singer. His begs and pleas began to echo and soften which you thought caused you to giggle a bit.

“I’m sorry. We’ll put a muzzle on him or something. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Fred shifted out of the door way, allowing you to enter the hall. It was bigger on the inside than the outside, that much had you relieved. Fred shut the door behind you with a satisfying click and let you soak the place in while he sat himself down on a velvet red coach. It was dimly lit, about half the lights were on, and the walls were painted a light tan, which easily could’ve been mistaken for white, if white wasn’t used for the tiling.

Next to Fred on the couch, was a girl with long, slightly darker, ginger hair. Her hair went well past her shoulders, and a bright orange base sat on top of her crossed legs. She had gone back to laying a few chords once you entered, just relaxing as her two brothers basically wrestled each other.

“Ginny, this is (Y/n).” Fred spoke up, pointing from his sister to you, then back to her. (Y/n), this is the youngest Weasley in the family, Ginevra.” Fred smirked, but it turned into a pained expression when she landed a hard slap to his chest.

“Except if you call me that, I will break your legs. It’s Gin or Ginny, nothing else. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/n). Fred hasn’t shut up about you.” She smiled at you, reaching a tattoo covered hand out to shake yours.

“Really?” You couldn’t help but grin. You shook her hand proudly, knowing it was probably your reputation that kept the oldest Weasley in the band chatting up a storm. “It’s nice to meet you too, Gin.” You gave her a cheeky grin before turning to the other side of the hall, noting another Fred standing in front of Ron, who was sitting in a chair quiet grumpily.

The double picked up a deep red guitar covered in stickers and shoved it into Ron’s lap, causing the younger to gasp out a wheeze. It was obvious he had chewed Ron out for his behavior, but nevertheless, he gave his unplugged electric guitar a few strums, which seemed to satisfy Fred 2 because soon enough he was storming back to the couch, shaking his head the entire walk there.

He sat himself down on the arm of the couch, right next to his doppelganger. His arms crossed back over his chest once again. Fred 2 had the same length hair, different piercings though. He only had one set of black earrings, but had an industrial across his left ear. He had a straight line of freckles across his cheek bones and right across his nose. The spots went down his neck and across his forehead.

“He’s bloody useless.” He grumbled out, his snake bite moving to the right as his tongue ran across it. “Oh, hi!” Fred 2 scooted over to the edge of the arm rest, reaching his hand out to shake yours. “You must be the band manager! I’m George, Fred’s twin bro-”

“Younger twin. I’m the oldest.” Fred interrupted, smirking again as he pointed a thumb to himself. His smirk dropped when he was smacked in the chest again- by both George and Ginny.

“I’m his twin brother. Ignore him, he has a God complex.” George rolled his eyes, smiling at you while he shook your hand. He pulled his hand away before scooting back to rest his back against the back of the couch. You could tell he wasn’t comfortable, but he seemed dedicated to the spot. “I’m sorry you had to meet Ron the way you did. Usually he’s tamer than that.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, your gaze turned down to your shoes. Your cheeks were beginning to heat up as his flirting rebounded through your head again.

“Nah, he wasn’t that bad.”

“I wasn’t?” Ron’s sudden voice behind you had nearly jumped out of your skin. You spun around, your backpack strings nearly catching on one of Ginny’s bass strings. You swallowed down a squeak. “Georgie was trying to convince me I was being inconsiderate and rude and that mum would smack me if she saw.” He was still holding the guitar by the neck, and that was when you noticed the bright gold strings with a red pick trapped between them.

“Well, it’s not like you were asking about my shoe size… “ Your eyes landed on the hands holding the black neck of the instrument and you couldn’t help but gawk at them. Rings covered his finger knuckles, veins popped out from beneath his skin. “Wow.” You didn’t mean to verbally gawk over the hands, so you had to force your gaze down to the instrument and ignore the urge to stare at the pale, freckle covered skin that was making your mouth dry.

You shook your head, looking at the shiny strings. You had you stop yourself from reaching out and caressing the polished neck, the textures strings and hidden pick. It was clearly loved and carefully taken care of.

“Beauty, isn't she?” Ron grinned, showing off the red body drowning in decals- most of which were bright orange Quidditch themed or terrible chess puns. You almost forgot to check if they were a muggle band, but this told you enough. “My best friend got it for me, he’s a blessing. Mum didn’t approve, of course, said we all had better purposes, but dad said rock on.”

“She really is. I’m guessing you named her?” The second the question fell from your lips, the three sharing a spot on the couch groaned in agony, but Ron was grinning in pride.

“Of course I have! Her name is Cherry Popper and she’s the love of my life. Unless,” Ron was taking a step closer to you, a twinkle in his eyes as he continued speaking, “you plan on cha-” His flirting was cut off suddenly.

“And that’s enough of that! Please sit down and, for the love of Merlin’s beard, rename the damn thing!” Ginny cried out, almost knocking her own instrument straight into the tiled floor. She ran a hand through her hair, her free hand holding the bass hard enough to make her knuckles pure white.

“I mean, come on! Name it something classic like ‘Bertha’ or ‘Jasmine’, or, and here’s my personal favorite, don’t name it at all!” Fred waved his hands while he spoke, counting the names on his fingers before doing jazz hands at ‘don’t name it at all’.

“Fred, that’s hypocritical. You named your mic.” George spoke up, pulling two white marble drumsticks from his jeans pockets and began to spin one between his fingers.

“That was a joke.” Fred stuck his tongue out at his twin. “At least I don’t do it seriously. And leave Echo out of this.” Fred ripped the non spinning drumstick from George’s hand, holding it out of his twins reach.

“Shut up and give me Crystal back!”

“No, if you wanna talk about terrible names, we can talk about the band's name! Merlin, Fred, were you sky high when you made it?” Ron shot back, his arms crossing over his chest, one still holding the guitar.

Knowing this kind of fight could go for a good while, you slipped past him, patting Ron on the shoulder while you walked past while a pained gasp rented the silence that flooded the hall. You set your backpack on the white table, opening the zipper and pulling out your laptop. You sat down, pulling the laptop onto your lap before opening the notepad application.

“I made the name! And dammit, I think it was clever! It even has a unique backstory! At our school, we had a um- small business and it was quite successful. By ‘we’, I mean George and I and by successful, I mean we run an online joke shop. I thought it fit the shop pretty well.” Fred held a look of pride- a smirk was, once again, drawn across his lips as his eyes twinkled.

“Mate, it’s horrible.” Ginny spoke up, not even bothering to throw the truth as a curve-ball causing two of her older brothers to nod in agreement. She copied Fred’s movement by yanking the drumstick from his hand, but handed it to George, smiling at him.

“Why couldn’t it have been something cool? You named your shop something cool. Why’d you give the band something’ shitty?” Ron rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the door, the guitar balancing on his sneakers and leaning against his ripped jean covered legs. His attention didn’t stay with his siblings for long. Soon it was shifting over to you, like he was naturally drawn toward you. He grinned at you, sticking his tongue out. The little gold ball stamped into the middle of his tongue had your full attention.

You swallowed thickly. The ball and his guitar strings were the exact same color and reflected the same light. You felt butterflies fill your stomach from the simple action and noticed, almost suddenly, the ginger was actually quite attractive and funny. You sucked on your tongue, hoping the blush across your cheeks didn’t give too much away. Ron looked back at his brothers, his side grin screaming he basically saw your body temperature rise.

“I was led to believe you all loved the name, but no! I’m starting to think you guys are just trying to embarrass me in front of the (Y/n), but since you think it’s so easy, come up with a new one.” Fred cried out, crossing his arms over the printed long sleeve t-shirt, and was pouting like a child now, sinking lower into the couch.

“It makes us sound like a cheesy boy-band going after 12 year olds.” Ginny scoffed, propping her bass up against the couch. She looked over at her slightly older brother, nodding her head in Fred’s direction.

“It does. We could’ve been Fire Wicks.” Ron pointed at Ginny and the teaming up began. “Or like Solar Skips.”

“Or The Red Bloods.” Gin nodded, pointing back at Ron while her other hand pulled out her phone. The game was ‘Who-Cares-If-It’s-Bad-Let’s-Prove-Fred-Wrong’ and you could tell it was for shits and giggles. You were going to pitch in an idea, but someone beat you to it.

“Or FireBolt Bitters.” Spoke up George, who was now gazing up at the ceiling, shaking his head in mock shame, but you could see the edges of his smile growing at the corners.

“Ooh, I love that one!” Ron leaned over, stretching his arm as far as it could to give George a high five, before turning to look at you. He grinned at your confused expression. “Are you writing these down?” He pointed at your computer before giving you a wink. The butterflies came back, doubled in strength, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head no, laughing louder when he waved his hands in a panicked manner. “Write them down, mate!”

You rolled your eyes, typing random shit down just to please the younger one. Your eyes trailed across the dumplings, noting three quarters of them were smiling. Fred’s crabby expression made it was clear he didn’t get picked on very often.

“Charlie texted saying ‘The Copper Horntails’ would’ve been better.” Ginny said, looking up from her phone. She dropped the phone onto her lap, wincing a tad when the device collided with the instrument on her lap. She quickly forgot the pain and leaned back, enjoying her brother's pain.

“You asked Charlie?!” Fred squealed loudly, his hands holding his head. Right beside Fred, George had begun to tap his sticks together, improvising a beat to go with the arguing.

“You know what? That’s a great idea! Let’s ask Percy next-” yelled Ron over Ginny’s laughter and Fred’s agonizing scream. His smirk only grew when Fred tossed his head back.

“Ok, damn! I get it! But I already made t-shirts so deal with it.”

“Fred, we have magic. We can always change the print.” George piped up, tapping the white wooden sticks against his thighs in some random pattern, his head nodding to a beat. He shrugged his shoulders, not focusing on his words all that much,

“George!” This time it was Fred’s turn to smack George in his chest. He glared at him before leaning over to whisper in his twin's ear. It was something you couldn’t make out, but you figured they were debating over your status. You rolled your eyes, reaching behind you.

With a clear of your throat, you gained their attention before pulling out your wand from your backpack. While waving it, you locked eyes with Ron, playfully chewing on your lip to try to hide your smile.

“But-” Fred scrambled to grab his phone. You knew he was going to pull up one of your profiles to show none of them mentioned magic or wizarding or anything.

“The quidditch stickers were a dead give away.” You pointed to Ron’s guitar with the tip of your wand before putting it back in your bag. “That, and the tiny blue car that somehow carried four band members, and all of their equipment even though, that should’ve been impossible. I do enjoy Firebolt Bitters, though.”

Your own smile grew when the siblings broke out into loud snorts and sniggers, save for Fred’s. Ron walked over to you, and you were sure his cheeks were hurting from how hard he was smiling. He laid his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he faced his band members.

“I like this one.”

A smile stretches across your face as your cheeks get warmer. Out of everything to come out of today, this was something even the strongest and most willed seer’s couldn’t have predicted. It wasn’t even half past noon and you’d already started to develop a crush on a punk guitarist who shares a band with his siblings. You were clueless on how you were going to do your managing and keep it strictly platonic when he grinned at you like you were everything he wanted.

#Ron Weasley #ron weasley x male reader #ron weasley imagine #hp x male reader #x male reader #male reader #ron weasley smut #hp imagine #hp fic #punk!ron weasley

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general-mahamatra · 4 years ago

Note

This is very specific but do you have any headcanons about double dates between Jeanbilee and Silvercyclops? That or how do you headcanon Charles and Erik’s sexualities? I think of Erik as pan and Charles as gay.

Hehe... Oh I can do this.

For Charles and Erik’s sexualities, I definitely agree. Charles is gay and Erik is either bi or pan (that one I’m not too solid on).

With the double date, catch me putting this in a modern setting. It’s under the line since there’s a lot

Individuals

Scott

Scott was definitely against the idea of a double date

Why? Because it’s kind of awkward to go out on a double date where the other couple... one of them is your ex

Yeah he’s still good friends with Jean! He’s just not sure how to handle going out to an event with her in a sort of romantic setting. Especially because there’s that slight problem that you KNOW he’s kinda anxious. Like what if people who knew him when he was dating Jean finds him all close and romantic with Peter?

Of course that’s not gonna happen. Man’s just anxious

But Peter managed to convince him and assure him that it would be alright

“It’s just a movie, Scotty. No one’s gonna care,” Peter had said. “Literally it’s dark and the seats are set up in pairs, you don’t need to worry.”

Scott protested immediately with, “but what if--”

“I’ll pay for the popcorn and treats. And the drinks. I’ll pay for it all for you.”

Scott caved pretty quickly

Except he didn’t know that before the movie the group was going out to dinner because for some reason his mind completely omitted that information. By the time they got together, he remembered, but oh man. He was not prepared

Yeah he was dressed up because Peter was really insistent on him wearing something decent, but the fact they were going out to dinner skipped his mind entirely

He was antsy during the dinner at first. Really shifty-eyed and such and was overall just visibly nervous

But he cooled down fast

He had a lot of fun at the dinner, even if he was a bit awkward with Jean at first

But he loosened up. He found himself enjoying the event much more as time went on and he even managed to calm down enough to comfortably interact with Jean just like he used to

It was actually kinda refreshing

He had whole conversations with the ginger. While Jubilee and Peter were going off about their crazy ideas and plans and things that have happened to them over the past weeks, Scott and Jean were just talking about... life. Catching up on what they’ve missed since they split apart and inevitably pulled away from each other (Scott moreso than Jean)

It brought a sense of closure to Scott that he didn’t realize he needed

He found himself warming back up to interacting with Jean and was... happy with it

Peter

Oh Peter was excited for the double date

Ever since Jubilee ran up to him and proposed it to him he was completely on board. Hell, he even helped plan it out with Jean and Jubilee at times

It was actually Jean’s idea for Peter to convince Scott that things would be alright. She knew he was worried about it, even if it was all irrational. She also knew that he was their best bet on helping Scott out and getting him comfortable with the idea

So Peter did just that

He actually did a lot more than just blatantly tell Scott that he was going to pay for everything at the movies

Peter did a lot of minimal prodding. Stuff to get Scott to talk in a way that wasn’t too intrusive or anything (it’s honestly a special ability of Peter’s). It helped him understand what he was gonna have to do to help his boyfriend out

Because Scott had never been on a double date before

And Peter actually found that kinda funny

But when it came to the date itself, he was completely down for it. He wanted to do it since the moment Jubilee told him about it and he decided he was going to put about as much planning effort into it as her. After all, it’s not different from other... events they’ve planned in the past. They have a perfect system

The movie was his idea

He deemed it “necessary after eating at some dumb fancy place. Because who in their right mind is gonna go out to eat and then just head home at like, 7pm?”

(Peter was also the reason they didn’t end up going to a restaurant where you had to dress up SUPER fancy)

(Granted he wasn’t entirely successful. Jean shot him down and made him settle with having to dress up a little. She wasn’t going to drive them all to dinner if it was gonna be some fast food shit)

Honestly, him and Jubilee are on the exact same wavelength for the date

Jean

Jean was definitely the TRUE brains behind the double date

She was the one who mentioned the idea to Jubilee who then took the idea and ran with it, making it a true plan

She did it because, well, she’s always wanted to have a double date. It was only possible now that she was with Jubilee and her other friends were together

Besides, she like anyone else was aware of just how close Jubilee and Peter were. It was honestly a perfect plan

Scratch something off her bucket list while also getting the two away from their peers so everyone could actually catch a break from their high energy

Actual perfection right there

That and she could tell Scott was awkward around her, even if they’ve been broken up for almost an entire year by this point

There were a lot of times Jean tried to reconnect with him and get him to loosen up but nothing really worked until she came up with the double date

It would give her the opportunity to get her friend back while also allowing him to be in a sort of comfortable environment (she’s noticed the way he tends to cling to Peter whenever she comes around. She isn’t sure if she should be hurt by it or not but she knows he doesn’t mean ill will)

She has to admit though, Peter’s idea of a movie after was a great idea. It’s not something she would’ve put forward or even thought about

Then again... she wasn’t expecting the duo to take over the planning and make it a lot more “light” than an actual “true” date

Jean was looking to reserve them stuff out at a true fancy restaurant. Maybe get them to all dress up and put them in a romantic setting but she was quickly put in her place by Jubilee and Peter’s insistence that it’s a double date, they don’t need to be in a super romantic area

And honestly, they had a point

But she refused to let them make the event completely casual. If she was going to be involved in any planning, they were gonna go somewhere where they have to dress up at least a little

She won that argument easily

Jubilee

OH MAN

Okay yeah Jubilee was definitely the front runner with the planning and setting everything up

Even with the double date originally being Jean’s idea, Jubilee took it upon herself to plan it all out mostly because she wanted to treat her girlfriend

(You act as thought Jubilee doesn’t know her own partner’s bucket list. Jean literally has it written out in a notebook under her pillow, Jubilee has gone through it multiple times)

She wanted it to be perfect

Which is why she went to Peter

Jean was the one who planted the idea of going on the double date with Scott and Peter but let’s be real, Jubilee would’ve chosen the boys anyways. They were the best bet

Either way, she was ecstatic

She literally has so much experience with planning from the pranks and events she’s set up with Peter, she knew exactly what she was doing when she got with him to plan everything out

Jubilee was actually the one who chose where they were going to dinner

It was a nice Hawaiian themed place. A seafood restaurant with a tropical theme and generally considered a 4 or 5 star restaurant. It was a perfect place, especially with its looser “dress code” (it was basically a sort of business casual, for lack of better terms. If she tried to describe it she would just point to Scott wearing a nice button up with no tie and Jean wearing a cute blouse and flowy pants to match)

(The really funny part is her and Jean low-key made it out to Peter like super fancy restaurants require you to wear formal clothes just so he would cave and “go somewhere less strict”)

(He never found out)

But if she was going to be honest, her favorite part of the double date was the movie afterwards

It was the newest Men in Black and she was losing her mind throughout it

Did she tune out the boys while they were nerding out quietly to her right? Yes, yes she did. She was much more focused on the humor and action and experiencing it with her girlfriend

Overall

Not gonna lie, Scott definitely clung to Peter at first

Like that much is obvious, but it really wasn’t that... obvious? It was if you looked closely at how he hovered closer to the older boy or how his head always seemed to be turned slightly towards him during conversations as if looking to him for stuff to say

Peter noticed it for sure, just as Jean did

Both of them let it happen. Because even when Scott loosened up as the night went on, he still wanted to stick close to his comfort and they didn’t want to pull him away from that

Man just doesn’t handle break ups well

Honestly though, the dinner was wonderful for the entire group. There was so much laughter and chatting and catching up, especially since they aren’t consistently hanging out together anymore

Jubilee convinced Scott to try some really spicy squid dish that he couldn’t remember the name of for the life of him and Peter just... kept ordering more chocolate milk

(They quickly learned that he forgot refills aren’t free)

(That didn’t stop him)

Outfits

Scott: Nice blue button up and black slacks. Honestly really basic typical “oh that guy looks cishet” kinda look, especially with the very plain uniform look to him

Peter: Black button up with white specks across it that look like stars and some slacks as well except his belt was a bit more... decorative than Scott’s. (It’s colorful)

Jean: A cute, loose blouse with a nice white and red floral/watercolor sort of pattern that sits nicely on her frame with some flowy pants and flats. Her hair was done into a braid

Jubilee: A nice long sleeve sweater-like yellow top and a short white skirt with a pair of flats as well. She had her hair down and man was it nice and curly

Honestly everyone was dressed so nicely, it was almost a miracle

During the movie, the couples sat together. That’s a given. But the way they interacted was definitely different from each other

Jean and Jubilee were vibing in their seats. They had chocolate and slushies and popcorn and were overall having a great time just enjoying the movie. There wasn’t too much commentary other than them laughing together or making fun of something they saw on screen

(Jean one time did yell at someone for having their phone on in the movie...she’s that person)

Jubilee was constantly touchy with Jean whenever something crazy happened or there was something intense. Hell, she ended up wrapping around Jean and crying when her favorite character died

Jean took it and honestly... it made her soft

She didn’t know it was possible to fall even further in love

Peter and Scott, though, were different. They too had all the treats and candy and such like the other couple but they were much closer than the girls. They were BASICALLY cuddling (Scott will never admit it). Like come on, you know it’s true

Scott was curled up against his boyfriend. Like head resting against Peter as the older had his arm around him. You know the drill

Again, Scott will never admit to it

But the entire time they were geeking out. Both of them grew up with sci-fi, especially MiB. And BOTH were excited for the newest movie and were having a great time pointing out the aliens and all that stuff and just overall having fun

After the date, the drive was both full of energy and calm. It was 10 by the time they were leaving the theatre and honestly... it’s an experience none of them would give up for the world

...they planned another one for the future

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hammeredalcoholic · 5 years ago

Text

Backseat Serenade

inspired by: Backseat Serenade by All Time Low

oh god, i’m sick of sleeping alone

i finished it. 4k+ words and 10 full pages on my google drive. you’re welcome.

rated: nsfw/18+

One thought harassed your mind over the last week, staying in the back of your head as a menacing reminder. It had been months since you last felt this way, why was it suddenly rearing its ugly head back into your life?

Oh wait, that’s right.

Everything in your life had unceremoniously crashed down upon you, barely giving you enough space to breathe. School was just becoming a reminder that you no longer had friends, no one to sit and chat with, no one to study for the upcoming exam with, no one even bothered looking in your direction.

In simple terms, it hurt. You knew that you’d been an outcast your whole life, generally not fitting into the scene, but when you’d gotten into a relationship with Josuke Higasikata, that changed everything dramatically. You had people to talk to, people to hang out with, and overall have a good time together.

Yeah, they were a weird bunch, but it’s not like that mattered to you in the slightest. It just felt good to have people who supported you, and wanted to be your friends.

But, that only lasted so long. You and Josuke had been dating only a year when things started falling apart. Not agreeing on things, fighting at the drop of a pin, and awkward tension and silence was shared whenever you hung out with his friends. It hurt, but you knew it wasn’t going to last.

So it was a mutual agreement between the both of you. Part ways so that it didn’t get worse. Josuke had said that he still cared about you, and if you needed anything to just call him and ask him. You had laughed at that internally, you knew you wouldn’t let yourself stoop that low, crawling back to your ex because you were insecure and lonely.

When you felt the loneliness and sorrow creep into your mind for the first time, you didn’t know what to do. So, thinking logically, you took the next best step.

You stole hard liquor from your parents cabinet, went to the corner store down the street and bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, along with a mixer. That’s the night you climbed onto your roof, looked up at the stars, which reminded you of Josuke, and got blackout drunk.

It had worked for awhile, smoking cigarettes at lunch instead of eating, and as soon as you finished your homework at home, you poured yourself a tall drink. It numbed the pain, and got your mind off of the loneliness corrupting your mind.

That was until you had gotten so drunk that you were puking until 4 am on a school night. You decided it would be best to not go to school tomorrow anyways, but the drinking was starting to wear on you, and it wasn’t having the same effect that it used to.

So you looked for other methods.

Which involved sleeping with people you barely knew. You never once slept with someone that went to your high school, the thought of rumors circulating about that was too much of a burden to bear. You had three main choices, from which you circulated between:

A tall black haired man with aquamarine eyes that barely spoke to you during your run-ins, which was fine, you didn’t want to talk to him anyways. A slim artist that you knew was famous but you didn’t care enough to actually look him up, and a normal business man with blonde hair who was maybe a little too obsessed with your hands.

But none of them compared to Josuke, in your mind. It was just sex-- no emotions, just primal need for pleasure and release. With Josuke, he cared about what you were feeling when things got steamy, he wanted to learn everything that made you feel good, so he could repeat it time and time again.

With the other men, they didn’t want that. They wanted to see a twitching body beneath them, and you knew that they didn’t care who it was.

Sleeping with the three of them lasted you about a year. You were getting better, at least having the knowledge that 3 men in this stupid town thought your body was attractive. But that didn’t last long either. You had suddenly been fired from your job, without any reason. It was the one thing that you looked forward to, making iced coffees for middle aged moms, who didn’t ask you questions or ignored you.

Your parents weren’t helpful after that, they thought you were a bum that couldn’t keep down a steady job. It pissed you off to no extent. You didn’t know why you were fired, as far as you knew you had been doing everything right. After that point, you had nowhere to turn. Cutting off all activity with the other men, you barricaded yourself in your room, barely going to school.

It’s not like it mattered anyways.

Depression was hard to deal with, as you soon found out. The three men had been trying to contact you, leaving messages on your phone, and some of them even sounded concerned for your well-being. Whatever, you didn’t reply anyways, they weren’t anyone that you wanted to talk to.

So there you stood, leaning against the open window in your room, smoking the third cigarette you’ve had today. It felt good- the rush of nicotine to your system, flooding out the overwhelming numbness that coursed through the pit of your stomach. The sun was high in the sky, and you heard the bustling of the city, along with cars driving past your house.

You felt calm.

That was until your phone started going off. The ringer cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife, and you pulled it out of your pocket. Who the fuck would be calling you? Your parents were at work, and as far as you knew, the three men had stopped trying to contact you about a week ago.

Glancing down at the screen, you felt your blood turn cold.

Josuke Higashikata.

The screen flashed, the old picture you set as his contact a long time ago appeared. Why? What did he want? You had no idea what you were doing, and your fingers answered the call and brought it up to your ear without your consent.

“Hello?” You heard him say, but you couldn’t reply. Your mind was racing with thoughts that all consisted of the word, why? Why now? What did he have to say?

“Hey.” You replied momentarily, shaking your head of all thoughts. He’ll explain himself in time, so you just have to listen. Shifting your gaze back down to your cigarette, and taking another drag.

Josuke coughed slightly, and you could tell he was uncomfortable. It didn’t sound like he was going to say anything any time soon, so you took pity on him. “What’s up?” You sighed, staring into your front yard.

“I just- um. You haven’t been at school lately.” Wow, very observant of him. You didn’t think he’d keep an eye out for you after you’d broken up. “Yeah, what about it?” You replied, biting back on the stern tone you almost let out.

“Well, I wanted to know if you were okay. This seems very unlike you.” Josuke said, concern prominent in his voice.

That surprised you.

“I’m alright.” You replied, lying through your teeth. He didn’t know that all of this was because of him, and you didn’t plan on giving him anymore than that. He didn’t have the right to know, anyways.

“If that's the case, then I want to see you.”

He what? No, no, no. Your mind screamed at you, telling you that this wasn’t okay in the slightest. “Why?” You replied dumbly, letting your mouth move before your mind caught up to you. Josuke sighed into the receiver before continuing.

“I know you’re lying to me. I can’t stand to see you like this. You know I still care about you, and I want to make sure you’re okay.” He stated matter of factly.

You froze, unable to process what he just said. Why did he still care about you? It’s been well over a year since things ended. Shouldn’t he have moved on by now? There were plenty of other people in all of Morioh that he could get along with just fine, why did it have to be you?

“Look- I know this is sudden, and I probably should have done this a long time ago. But please, can you come pick me up? We just need to talk, is all.” Your hands were shaking, and you felt that deep feeling of dread crawling up your back, settling in your shoulders.

“I guess.” You spoke, letting him know that you didn’t really want to do it in the first place. He ignored it though, and continued. “Alright, I’m at my house. Just send me a text when you’re here.”

And with that, he promptly hung up on you.

You shoved your phone into your pocket, and looked back out your window. Why was this happening so suddenly? Why was Josuke still not over you? And why were you still not over him?

Flicking the cigarette butt you had between your fingers out over the window, and reached to grab another. Before you even attempt to leave the house, you need to try and calm down. Lighting it up and taking steady drags, letting the smoke sit in your lungs for a few moments before blowing it out your window.

This was insane, and you knew deep down you shouldn’t be going to meet him. It could bring back unrequited feelings, awkwardness, and just not be a good time. What if you fight? What if you tell him about all the things you’ve done? How would he react to that?

You let those thoughts wander as you finished your cigarette. Throwing it out, you turned around and left your room, walking down the steep stairs into your kitchen. You grabbed your keys out of the basket on the counter, and stepped out into the sunny day.

Quickly shutting the door behind you and walking to your car, you got in and turned the keys in the ignition. It roared to life, surprisingly, you haven’t driven your car since you got fired from your job. Pulling out of the driveway, you headed in the direction of Josuke’s house.

It wasn’t a long drive by any means, but it still gave you time to let your mind drift. Music played softly in the background, as your thoughts took over. What was he planning on doing? What did he want to talk about? If he was going to ask to get back together, you weren’t sure what you would do.

It feels like you’ve already soiled this relationship. You’ve slept with 3 other men-- older men, drank until you couldn’t see anymore, and cried your eyes out at any hour of the day. Was it really worth it? What if you guys broke up again? Shaking your head, you rolled down the windows and popped another cigarette in your mouth.

If Josuke didn’t like your new habit, then it sucks. You weren’t quitting it anytime soon. Within moments, you pulled into his driveway. Shuffling your phone out of your pocket, you sent him a quick text. You leaned against your window, inhaling from your cigarette and exhaling it through your nose.

After a minute, you saw Josuke stumble out of his house. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, just a plain shirt and jeans. It looked nice on him. He calmly walked to your car, opening the passenger side door and getting in. He glanced over at you, before his eyes widened.

“When did you start smoking?”

You rolled your eyes at him, flicking your ash out the window. “Like, a year ago. It’s no big deal.”

His shoulders slumped slightly, and if you hadn’t been paying attention, you wouldn’t have seen it. Gazing back at the wheel, you sighed. “Where do you want to go?” The words came out a little bit harsh, but it’s whatever. Josuke is a man, he can handle it.

“Let’s just go to that one place. Y’know.” Ah, right. The place he was talking about was out of town, near a cliffside. It’s where you lost your virginity to him. In the same car you were driving now. This will be interesting.

“Alright.” Flicking your cigarette butt out the window, you backed out of the driveway, and drove in the direction of the secluded place. Your nerves were racing, and your mind couldn’t stop thinking of useless things. Josuke was attractive-- he always has been. Bright eyes, big smile, and his body was just as perfect.

You wondered if you could get in his pants. One last time. Just for fun.

Your mind screamed at you, informing you that it was not a good decision and you should not be thinking of that. He wanted to talk, and that’s it. He’ll probably scold you for not going to school, picking up smoking, and god knows what else. It was going to be hell, and you knew it. There was a kick in your stomach, bile rising in the back of your throat.

You grabbed the water bottle in the center console, drained it, and then turned up the radio to get your mind off of these things. Josuke just sat in silence beside you, watching the scenery pass by. It was almost calming, reminiscent of what your relationship used to be. But sometimes ships sink, and you have to deal with the outcomes.

The town started to disappear, and you turned on a gravel road. It wasn’t too long before you reached the area, and the thought of it getting closer scared you. You didn’t want a confrontation. You wanted to continue your life, worthless as it may be, and drown in your own sorrow. What is so wrong with that?

Moments pass, and the little cliff was in view. The gravel road led up to it, and there was a small clearing to park in. Pulling up, you put the car in park, and let out a deep breath. Here it comes.

Josuke didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look in your direction.

That scared you even more. Your hands started to shake, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. Why wasn’t he talking to you? What did you do this time? What haven’t you done?

Then, his voice cut through your thoughts.

“This place has always been beautiful, huh?” Josuke asked softly, barely a whisper. You looked over at him, wiping the tears from your eyes quietly. Glancing out the windshield, you did think it was beautiful. The cliff overlooked the town-- showcasing all the buildings, as well as the beaches and the long stretch of ocean.

It soothed you, but only a little. Was he just trying to stall? There’s no point in that. It’s always best to just rip the bandaid off. Get the pain over with. You sighed again, deciding that it might be best to just bring it up yourself.

“Josuke.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady. It wasn’t really working.

The said man looked over at you, and then a look of concern was written all over his face. He started to reach out for you, but you stopped him. “What did you want to talk about?” Tears welled in your eyes again, but you had enough self control to hold them back.

“I’m- I’m just worried about you. You’ve changed so much-- I never see you at school, you smoke, and I’ve heard a few things about your… Encounters.”

Encounters? Wait- No. No, how could he know about that? There’s no way- you made sure you covered your tracks. You didn’t tell anyone, and you made the men promise to keep it a secret.

“H-How?” Is all you could manage without emptying the contents of your stomach.

“Erm, well. Jotaro- He’s my nephew.” Jotaro. Jotaro? Who was he-- tall, black hair, and strong aquamarine eyes flashed in your brain. You should have guessed. Of fucking course they were related, he looked too much like Josuke now that you think about it.

“I-” You struggled, your body was fully shaking now, and you knew tears were sliding down your cheeks. Gripping your sides, you just wanted to die. You wanted to leave, to run away, to get the fuck out of this town. This can’t be fucking happening. It can’t be.

“Hey! Don’t freak out, it’s okay. I’m not mad, really. We were not together, and you didn’t know who he was. He didn’t even know your name.” Josuke’s hands came to cover yours, instantly snapping you back to reality. His eyes were full of worry, looking down upon you.

“I’m disgusting. I know. You don’t have to lie to me.” You spat, not at him, but more at yourself. How could you do this?

“No. You need to stop that. Get your head out of you ass, and fucking listen to me.” Josuke grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were brimmed with tears.

That shook you to your core.

You have never seen Josuke cry. He didn’t when you were in a relationship, as well as when you broke up. Not a single tear shed. What did you do to him? Your hands reached up to his face, wiping away the small tears that flowed down his cheeks. He was too beautiful to cry.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, continuing to sooth your fingers over his face. He leaned into the touch, and his grip on you tightened. “No. I’m sorry. I did this to you. I want to make it up to you.” You did a double take at that. Make it up to you?

“What- What does that mean?” Your eyes searched his, trying to find a clue to what he was talking about. Nothing.

“I still love you. I always have. I just don’t think it was the right time for us.” He ran his hand along your side, and you shivered against the touch. Josuke leaned in close, your lips almost meeting his, but not quite.

“I want to start over. Will you let me?” He mumbled, his eyes focused on your reaction. A million thoughts went through your head. But one word that they all managed to land on was, yes. You wanted this. You missed him so much, every day. It was hell, getting up every day, and having nothing to look forward to. No one to tell you good morning, no one to tell you how beautiful you looked, no one to lay you down and talk to you about anything and everything.

You wanted this bad.

“Yes. Please, Jos-” Your words were cut off by a fierce kiss. His lips met yours, pressing harshly. You accepted almost instantly, letting a hand drift up his face, pulling him as close as he could get. You missed this too-- The feeling of another body pressed against you, hot lips against your own. But this time, it was different.

It was Josuke.

Your head was spinning when his tongue ran across your lower lip. You let him in, parting slightly and deepening the kiss even more. The sun was setting across the ocean, the pink and oranges mixing into one.

Josuke’s hand dipped under your shirt, and your skin felt like it was on fire. You needed this, you needed Josuke. Everything he was willing to give you, you would take. Pulling back from the kiss, you licked the saliva off your lips. You gazed at him, a blush covering your cheeks.

“Josuke, I want- No. I need you.”

He didn’t look surprised. A dumb grin spread across his face, and he spoke lowly.

“Backseat. Now.”

You ripped your seatbelt off faster than humanly possible. Before getting out, you turned the radio up higher, letting the music take over. You almost threw yourself into the backseat, Josuke following behind you closely.

His hands were on you once more, pulling off your shirt and throwing it to the floor. You gasped, and he took it as an opportunity to kiss you. Your tongues mixed hotly, his hands feeling your skin again, and it felt right. Everything felt right.

Leaning up against him, your hands went to rid him of his shirt, which he pulled back and discarded. Josuke was so handsome-- built, but not too much, just enough to leave your mouth watering. It was fantastic, and you hated to admit it, but you’ve thought of this situation before. And gotten off to it more than once.

His eyes trailed down your body, admiring your breasts, hips, thighs. He then looked back into your eyes, gripping your pants. “I want to love you. I want to make you forget any other men you’ve slept with.”

That statement alone left you absolutely soaked. Josuke could tell, because he wasted no time in tugging your pants off. His fingers went to your panties, feeling the wetness through them. “No other man can make you feel as good as I do.” He punctuated that with a swift rub to your clit, earning him a sharp gasp.

You shook against his movements, hooking your legs around his hips. It felt so good to finally have him touching you, every movement felt so hot. “Please, Josuke.” You moaned out, your hands falling back to cover your face. Josuke smiled, looking down at your figure against the stark black of the seats.

“Please, what?” He asked, rubbing against your clit faster, making you pant hard. You couldn’t form words, the pleasure was too much. You haven’t even touched yourself like this in weeks-- it felt so good, you didn’t want to stop.

But he did.

Josuke’s fingers retracted, leaving you cold, soaked, and on the edge. He repeated his question as he worked off his belt. You panted hard, staring right into his eyes.

“Josuke. I need you to fuck me.”

His pants were on the floor within moments. You grabbed his shoulders, leaning him down with you, pressing kiss after kiss against his lips. Hands grabbed your panties, and with a lift of your hips, they were gone. Josuke groaned against you, his erection straining hard against your thigh.

Moving a hand down swiftly, you yanked down his boxers, and lined him up with your entrance.

“Please, Josuke.”

That’s all it took. He thrusted inside you, all the way to the hilt. You clenched hard around him, being stretched in the best ways. It felt like heaven, having him inside you, filling you up. You didn’t want it to end.

After a second, Josuke pulled out, and slammed back inside you. It rocked the car slightly, and that just fueled both of your arousal more. He quickly started a pace, thrusting inside of you while his hands gripped your hips tightly.

You moaned loudly, the feeling of his cock pumping inside of you was all you could focus on. It was intense, passionate, and despite the urgency, so full of emotion. Your legs tightened around his hips, bringing him closer to you.

He leaned his head down, his lips meeting yours in a crushing kiss. It was amazing, the feeling of being so full and so cared for almost brought tears to your eyes. A coil began to tighten in your core, setting your skin on fire.

Your hands found his face, cupping him and holding him against your lips. You never knew that you needed this so badly. Josuke continued his thrusts, starting to become erratic, but still so full of pleasure.

One of his hands traced down your side, settling on top of your abdomen. His fingers dipped down, rubbing fast circles against your clit. You pulled back from his lips and cried out at the feeling, before losing your voice completely as you were thrown off the edge.

Shaking hard against his body, you clenched and released, your hands gripping onto whatever they could. Your name was on his lips as he continued to pound into you, speeding up before he came with a groan.

His seed filled you up, and it was a feeling you hadn’t realized you missed. Josuke laid his head against your neck, pulling out of you gently. He peppered soft kisses to your collarbone, before leaning up and pressing one against your lips.

Josuke’s eyes were brighter than you’ve ever seen them before. The blue shining in the moonlight that surrounded the both of you for miles. It was a sight that you never thought you’d be able to see again. It warmed you up, a strange feeling settling in your shoulders, but it wasn’t a bad one.

He ran a hand through his hair, which was now disheveled and lacking it’s original style. Josuke sighed, before pulling you up and settling you in his lap. He pulled you close, his arms surrounding you.

It was nice. More than nice really, it was the best you’ve ever felt in the past few years.

“I love you so much.” He spoke softly against your lips, his hands rubbing along your back.

“I love you too, Josuke.”

#josuke higashitaka #josuke x reader #josuke higashikata x reader #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #jojo reader insert #jjba reader insert #jojo imagine #jjba imagine #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba part 4 #jojo part 4 #diamond is unbreakable #im deleting the draft #so this is all you have pals #take it i worked really hard on it #i was FOCUSED

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themonkeycabal · 4 years ago

Text

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, ep 3

Good morning!

Spoilers! of course

Previously on:

The new Captain America is a massive tool, but his buddy, "Battlestar" (lol), is a little bit adorable. They work for something called the Global Repatriation Council, which sounds like a bureaucratic delight and joy.

Bucky got arrested for skipping his therapy appointment to go to Germany (nothing good ever happens to you in Germany, Bucky. Stop going to Germany.) on a mission with Sam (the mission went badly). And once he's sprung from the clink, he and Sam are suckered into the most awkward team therapy session in many an age. Things Are Said and everybody ends up mostly feeling pretty bad about everything.

Speaking of feeling pretty bad about everything — we discover there was a black super soldier in the US Army during the Korean war who was repaid for his service by being imprisoned and made a lab rat for thirty years. Just as awful as it sounds.

Also our pseudo-terrorists from the first episode turn out to be a pack of idealistic kids who grew up in a blipped world and whose goals are probably as murky to them as they are to me. They, however, have pissed off somebody much bigger and badder (probably by stealing super soldier serum).

To find just what in the sam hill was going on with the super soldier serum being out in the wild, Bucky suggested they go talk to that very stable and rational repository of Hydra knowledge, Zemo. I'm sure this will go swimmingly.

I've got my chips and guac and beer, it's 12:30 a.m., and I'm ready for some good ol' fashioned fisticuffs! Bring it, Marvel,

And we open with a sunny, smiley propaganda ad for the Global Repatriation Council. Helping you get back to the way things used to be. Reset. Restore. Rebuild. Cut to a shady black police van with the GRC logo and militarized police hop out along with Captain Massive Tool and the shield that really shouldn't be his. They seem nice.

"Don't give them a second to delete, shred, or breathe," says Captain Biggest Bestest Hero Ever as they prepare to breach a graffiti covered building. Ah, it's the hideout in Munich where Karli and the flag stompers gang were bunked last episode. The owner refuses to give up any info, calls them brutes, spits in Captain Tool's face, and Captain Biggest Bestest Hero Ever roughs him up and yells "Do you know who I am?" The owner replies for us all, "yes, I do, and I don't care."

Captain Tool leaves and grumbles about not having intel on that super dangerous criminal 12-year old, Karli. Battlestar (lol) points out she's giving shelter and meds to displaced people, and so they're loyal. And I'm just going to let that go at this point, because last ep she was on about how the GRC only cared about helping the returning people and not the people who were there all along, and the Flag Smashers wanted to return the world to how it was during the blip. But now suddenly they're all about helping the displaced, who I thought were the ones who were gone, thus, you know, being displaced when they come back to a world that's moved on without them. And I'm letting it go …. now.

Or not. I mean, I guess we could say that they're helping the displaced the GRC doesn't want to help, because they're not politically useful or the GRC is funneling its massive resources somewhere else. Or … something. Like I said, it's all very murky at the moment. I could keep watching and probably discover the answer. And I'm sure the GRC is corrupt as hell, so you go Karli! Though, she's like 16 (okay, maybe early 20s), and I'm not sure how she's managed this level of pull and resources in the few months since the great Un-Blippening and also she's got like a team of 8 (or 7, one died last ep) and she's not exactly oozing charisma. But, never mind. Moving on. For real this time.

That's all my way of saying that 3:48 into this episode and I'm already super done with Captain Massive Tool.

In Berlin, Bucky and Sam are visiting Zemo in prison. How'd they get permission? The guard seems very chill about them being there, he even leaves so Bucky and Sam can go to Zemo's cell alone. Which is so very weird. Are they hoping somebody will shank the weirdo who sits in his cell listening to opera and playing chess all day? "Oh no, he's dead, how sad. Heinrich! Get the mop!"

Anyway, Bucky says he'll go in alone, because Sam's an Avenger and Zemo doesn't really have warm fuzzy feelings for Avengers. Sam, who is currently in possession of the duo's one (1) brain cell, remembers how Zemo literally stalked Bucky and tried to frame him for a bombing and mass murder. "He was obsessed with Hydra. We have a history together," is Bucky's very questionable counter-argument. Well, I mean, technically yes, I guess.

Seriously, they just let him walk right in. Wow.

Zemo steps out of the improbably dark recesses of his cell and immediately starts reciting the Winter Soldier control words. "I just wanted to see how the new you reacts to the old words." By staring. It's his thing.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. It was never personal." I don't know why, but this made me laugh. His delivery is great. It's just like "hey man, good to see you again, hope you got past that whole framing you for murder and the global manhunt thing. Sorry and all. I just really hated your BFF for that time he dropped a city on my family. Bygones, amiright?"

Bucky skips the chat. "Somebody recreated the super soldier serum. I need to find out who." Ah, Zemo is super interested. But, of course. He killed all the other Soldiers, he wouldn't be keen on others around, would he?

Zemo knows where to begin looking for the answer. Cut to Sam and Bucky walking around in a dark room full of some sort of vague equipment (ah, it's a garage), Sam regretting every life decision he's ever made that led him to this point "what are you talking about you want to break Zemo out of jail? Where the hell are we? Buck, have you lost your mind?" Stupidity, who knows, and yes.

"Zemo's going to mess with our minds. Especially yours. No offense." "Offense." lol idiots.

Bucky finds the lights. They argue some more about Zemo. "Super soldiers go against everything he believes in. He is crazy, but he still has a code." Sam's like, yeah, I saw his code, it was blow shit up and kill a lot of people. Sam cannot believe he is hearing this crap right now and he's got to be like "steve rogers, if you weren't 106 I would beat your ass for leaving me with this moron".

"Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?" Sam, feeling those cold, tingly chills, the slowly creeping horror of realization, "What did you do?" "I didn't do anything," Bucky lies like the terrible liar he is. Wow he's a bad liar.

Cut back to Zemo's prison cell. Zemo ticks another off the "creepy euro villain" checklist, when Bucky randomly asks what he's reading and Zemo says Machiavelli. But of course. He's hiding something in his book. A key card.

Meanwhile, in the garage Bucky is explaining things to Sam. "The weakest point of any system isn't the software, or the hardware, it's the meatware." lol elegantly put, Bucky. "The human element."

Anyway, to sum up, Bucky's already broken Zemo out of prison. Poor Sam, the look on his face as Bucky hypotheticals through all the steps of the breakout, I laughed so hard.

Sam: “i hate everything, especially this asshole”

"And where are we?" Sam asks, very fed up with Things.

The door opens and here comes Zemo in his purloined guard's uniform.

"You're going back to prison!" "We need him, Sam." Zemo, politely, "If I may—" "NO!" "NO!"

Argue argue argue. Bucky makes a weird pitch about how Steve didn't sign the Sokovia Accords and neither did Sam and, they went all illegal and on the run, they did it for him and so he's asking Sam to do that again. I mean, Sam's still slightly cheesed about that, Bucky. But, it seems to work, and Sam agrees with A Great Deal Of Reluctance.

Zemo's just standing there all quiet and well-mannered as they go through this, like he's their little pet whackjob.

The garage is full of classic cars belonging to Zemo and they're full of weapons and other goodies. He says he spent years tracking down all the Hydra people who might know how to make the serum, because if it's out there, then somebody could create an army of people like the Avengers. He's taking clothes out of one of the cars and finds a purple ski mask, which he stealthily slips into a bag. Nobody cares about your weird purple mask, Zemo, I've thought that thing was dumb for 30 years.

"To do this, we'll have to scale a ladder of low-lifes." heh

Next they go to an airfield. In Germany. You guys, come on.

Anyway, Zemo owns a plane, he's rich, his family was royalty, he's a baron. Sam's like 'wtf?' Bucky just rolls with everything. Or he does until they're on the plane later and Zemo has somehow lifted Bucky's book of amends and decides to read through it. "Who is Nakajima?" And Bucky's got him by the throat.

Sam's all hey that's Steve's book. "I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What did you think?" "I like 40s music, so…" "You didn't like it?!?!?!?!" "I liked it." Zemo chimes in, "It is a masterpiece, James. Complete, comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience." lol wtf

"Everybody loves Marvin Gaye," Sam is so offended. "I like Marvin Gaye," Bucky says, probably trying to remember 'who is Marvin Gaye?' "Steve *adored* Marivn Gaye," Sam insists. lol. I like Marvin Gaye, Sam.

Zemo starts going off about Steve, and how the danger with those heroes and super soldiers is they're put on a pedestal and we forget about their flaws. And while he's not wrong, he also clearly wants Sam to throw him out of that airplane.

"Do we want to live in a world with people like the Red Skull? No. That is why we're going to Madripoor." Ahh Madripoor, I haven't thought about that place in a long, long time. A wretched hive of scum and villainy, iirc. Ah, yes, Zemo and Bucky confirm.

Zemo says they can't go as themselves and Bucky's going to have to "become someone you claim is gone". Bucky looks Deeply Unhappy.

On to a GRC resettlement camp in Latvia. Karli is playing soccer with some young kids. Because of the good-natured idealism. She's summoned to a hospital bed, in a ward stuffed with beds in an old, fancy building that's seen better days. Somebody is dying and she's crying at their bedside. Her mom maybe?

Back to Madripoor. It's a glittering city of colorfully-lit skyscrapers. The trio are walking across a bridge to give us a picturesque view and exposit about what they'll be doing. Sam is wearing a very questionable suit with like a black and red floral pattern and yellow-green circles. Or something. I can't tell what's going on with that thing. He says he looks like a pimp. Well no, but it is a terrible suit. Zemo calls it fashion forward, but Zemo wears a great coat with a fur collar and a purple ski mask. Don't take fashion tips from Zemo.

He says Sam will play a "sophisticated, charming, African rake, named Conrad Mack. Aka the Smiling Tiger." Sam is still not thrilled, "even has a bad nickname." Though, yes, the original dude does dress that poorly and he looks like Sam, so suck it up, Sam.

Fortunately they don't have to walk all the way across the bridge (it is a long ass bridge), they're met by a car about halfway and Zemo says they have to super duper stay in character no matter what happens.

The car is surrounded by elaborately decorated motorcycles ridden by very armed people. Hell of a welcome wagon. They're escorted to a graffitied, crumbling underpass, presumably the entrance to Low Town. It's part Macao, part Kowloon, part Jakarta, crammed full of neon and people and ramshackle buildings piled together in a maze of narrow streets, rails, and weird building-to-building bridges. Good set design.

Everybody is "fashion forward" and very heavily armed. They pass a wall with the words "Power Broker Is Watching". That's the charming fellow Karli and her do-gooders stole from.

They enter a bar decorated with golden baboon skulls and koi fish. Zemo asks "are you ready to comply, Winter Soldier?" he's attracted attention from unsavory sorts. I mean, more unsavory than the already unsavory sorts who fill the bar. The bartender is surprised to see Zemo and the Smiling Tiger. Zemo asks for Selby.

Somebody at a nearby table pulls a hood over her head, and by somebody I mean Sharon Carter. NOT SUBTLE SHARON!

Bartender asks the Smiling Tiger if he wants the usual and Sam silently nods. The bartender seems suspicious, but he takes a pickled snake out of a jar, cuts something out of it, drops it in a glass and places it in front of Sam who's like 'what in the actual I am going to puke'. lol Sam bravely tosses it back and does not puke no matter how much he really wants to and he really wants to. Bucky's being the Winter Soldier and is not at all laughing in his head about this.

A power broker minion comes over and tells Zemo he's not welcome there. Zemo says if PB wants him to leave, he can talk to him himself or bring Selby. The minion looks at Bucky and asks if he got a new haircut. Bucky gives him pure murder face. So the Power Broker and his minions know the Winter Soldier, so they were Hydra? Or, I guess, they all ran in the same shady circles.

Anyway, PUNCHING AT LAST! Power Broker minions approach to remove Zemo and Zemo tells the Winter Soldier to attack. Bucky is not pleased, but I am, because now there's punching. It's just been the sort of week that needs punching to improve it. Bar brawl! It's a lopsided fight, Bucky's wiping the floor with these dudes and the suspicious bartender is moving away to make a call.

"It didn't take much for him to fall back into form," Zemo tells Sam. Shut your pie hole, Zemo. Aw, now the guns come out and the fight's over. Zemo calls off the Winter Soldier and the bartender tells them Selby will see them.

Selby is lounging in her backroom, listening to 50s french pop, and hanging out with lizards and piles of cash. As you do. She'd like to know why Zemo is there and by the way wasn't he in prison? She makes a weird purring sound at Sam. lol. I like her. The actress looks familiar but I can't place her. Anyway.

Zemo says if she tells them what she knows about the super soldier serum, he'll give her the Winter Soldier and his control words. Then Zemo weirdly fondles Bucky's face and like rubs at the cleft in his chin. lol. fucking weirdo.

Selby is charmed. She says she's glad she didn't kill him straight away. Weirdos of a feather, I suppose. Anyway, she says the serum is in Madripoor and developed by Dr. Wilfred Nagel. He was working for the PB. She won't give up Nagel's location for free, though. …and Sam's phone rings. Pro tip, Sam: turn off your phone when you go into meetings with deeply shady crime bosses.

Everybody stops and stares at him and he just sort of lets it ring. It's his sister. Dude, just turn it off. Too late. Selby wants him to answer it on speaker. Okay, well, she'll kill you either way, so just refuse the call and get ready for punching and running. So, he answers it.

Sarah says she needs to talk to him about the situation and he wants her to say exactly what situation. So, she says the one with the boat, dummy, and are you high? So he's going to play this off as a Doing Crime phone call. And it kind of works until Sarah calls him Sam. Selby's like wtf kill them and then she gets shot in the chest by … I don't know who? somebody from the outside. Now this trio of geniuses is going to get blamed for it. Immediately a bounty for them goes out to like everybody in Low Town. lol. That went well, guys.

And the shooting starts, they run. Except not so great for Sam who we just discovered is wearing heels. "I can't run in these heels!"

Here come the bikers. And they get picked off by somebody in a nearby warehouse. Oh, is that Sharon? Yep. And she's salty .When asked what she's doing there, "I stole Steve's shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass so you (sam) could save his ass (bucky) from his ass (zemo)." lol. She didn't have any backup so she's off the grid in Madripoor. Did nobody think to clear her after everybody was all heroic and then pardoned after the Un-Snappening? Come on, guys.

She's better than they deserve and despite being bitter, she says she's got a place in High Town they can hide.

Sharon runs a gallery selling stolen masterpieces and other hot craft goodies. The creators of this show bless us with a long shirtless Sam scene as he changes out of this Smiling Tiger duds and apologizes to Sharon. She says she'd be arrested if she went back to the States and Madripoor doesn't allow extradition. Besides, she muses, heroing is hypocritical bullshit. Right Sam, since you gave up the shield and all. And Sam's all "bwhu?"

Then she turns her bitter on Bucky and asks how the new Cap is and Bucky's like "i hate him the most" and she's all 'come on', she knows he buys into all that heroic bullshit, "before you were his (zemo) pet psychopath you were Mr America, Cap's best friend." Well, no before that he was the Winter Soldier long before Zemo.

"Wow, she's kind of awful now," Bucky tells Sam. lol. You really get a sense of how much Bucky lucked out with his goat farm. Thanks Wakanda!

Sam gets them back to the point and wants to know where Nagel is, though Sharon says they should stay out of it to be safe. Sam presses, he says he can help clear Sharon's name and she's like 'wow, bargaining with my life?' but he gives her a Cap-worth speech about trying. "They cleared the bionic staring machine and he's killed almost everybody he's met." "I heard that," Bucky says from ten feet away. "I don't trust charity." You just tried to guilt him about bargaining with your life, Sharon!

Anyway, they strike a deal.

Zemo's being suspiciously quiet.

Then they go to a rave. Madripoor is party central. Sharon's gallery is hosting a party for clients and whatnot. She'll see what she can find. For some reason she invites the boys to join her at the party because hiding from the bounty on them and probably also from the Power Broker means walking into parties packed full of the sort of people who buy expensive stolen goods in Madripoor, like say, the Power Broker or his wealthier minions.

Zemo's just happy to be out of prison. The shot of him dancing. lol.

Sharon finds a lead on Nagel and the next day this quartet of galaxy brains heads to the docks. Nothing bad ever happens when you go look for scientists at the docks. No sir. And he is apparently hanging out in a shipping container. Sharon's like hurry up you've got a bounty on your heads and I'm sick of you three already.

The container is empty, but Sharon insists it's the right one. Zemo goes in and finds the false back which leads to a set of stairs going up. "Comin' Home Baby" is playing in the distance. I know I always listen to Mel Torme when I'm tinkering on gene-altering serums in my secret shipping container lab.

They find Dr. Nagel, who is not keen on chatting but he's willing to maybe listen to offers. He's definitely the mad scientist type.

Sharon, keeping watch outside, spots trouble. Some bad guys heading towards the container. She attacks! Moar punchies! Or beating the shit out of people with a baton. It's eleventy zillion bounty hunters. How did they find them? Did that Very Wanted Trio maybe go to a very popular party the night before, or something?

Bucky attempts to persuade Nagel with his gun. Nagel says he was brought in to Hydra to work on the Winter Soldier program. Then he was recruited by the CIA. They had blood samples of a subject (Isaiah? the black super soldier from last ep), and he was able to recreate the serum off of that. "I was a god! I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do."

Zemo is pacing around like a very, very angry psycho about to shoot the mad scientist. Guys, maybe it wasn't a good idea to bring Zemo to the person who could create the super soldier serum, given that is the opposite of what he wants. Kill Nagel, no more super soldiers. This is gonna end bloody. Zemo seems to have found a gun hidden in the lab. Yep.

"How have we never heard about this?" Sam asks. Well Sam, it turns out Nagel was blipped. Thanks, Thanos! Anyway, when he came back the CIA project was abandoned but the Power Broker was happy to help fund him. He made 20 vials and Karli stole those. And then Karli being a super duper genius, called him a few days earlier and asked if he could help somebody dying of tuberculosis. Karli … don't call the bad guys and ask for help after you stole from them. That's like day one stuff, kiddo.

Meanwhile, Sharon is still fighting every bounty hunter in Madripoor. She's killed like twenty guys.

Sharon runs in "guys we're seriously out of time" and Zemo takes the distraction to shoot Nagel. Who didn't see that coming? Oh yeah, Sam and Bucky and Sharon. Nobody was using the one (1) brain cell today. Or Zemo was. That's what you get for loaning it to the lunatic.

And then somebody fires a freaking rocket at the shipping container lab. Man. But, can you collect a bounty if all that's left are unidentifiable, charred corpses? Nobody in Madripoor is using the brain cell today.

Now they're trapped in a burning lab that's full of probably very bad explosive chemicals and o2 tanks. And yep, it partially blows up. Zemo gets away. Or seems to have, anyway. It's a gun battle now and also arguing. lol. Sharon's like "FOR REAL YOU IDIOTS?"

Oh, here comes Zemo, stomping along the top of a shipping container, carrying his purple ski mask. He fires at a gas line, the explosion distracting the bounty hunters and giving the trio time to run. Zemo beats up some bounty hunters and then finds a convertible muscle car in a container and swings by to pick up the others. Sam is very grumpy "you're going back to jail". lol.

Sharon's like 'okay, buh-bye!', she's had enough. Aww, is she really only in one episode? Well, Sam does promise to try and get her that pardon, so …

Anyway, Bucky calls shotgun and refuses to move the seat up for Sam. Payback is sweet. Heh.

Oh, not done with Sharon yet. She meets a minion and says they've got a couple of big problems.

Lithuania. Karli and one of her pals are stalking a GRC depot. Karli's sad. Her buddy says she should take some time to mourn. But, no, she's got do-gooding to do. They chat for a bit about what they'd be doing if they weren't do-goodering. She'd be a teacher or some such. They were all in Madripoor, washed up there during the blip, put then put out when everybody returned. Hmm. Lots of expositioning. Blah blah, scary taking the serum. "But it was worth it, because this world is ours." And they're going to give it to the kids in the displacement camps. … alrighty then.

Anyway, she's convinced that now that Nagel is dead, the Power Broker will come to her begging for the rest of the serum. No, sweety, I really don't think a person like that begs. Yikes.

"So we've got the one fight ahead of us then? I'll take those odds," says her very dim buddy.

In the prison in Berlin, Captain Massive Tool is talking to the guards about how Sam and Bucky where there when Zemo escaped and the guard's all "you … you don't think they had something to do with him getting out…." World class security. I find it really grating that Captain Tool calls Sam and Bucky by their first names. It's just so weirdly familiar that it almost crosses into dismissive. Completely unearned familiarity.

Lemar says they can't just accuse Sam and Bucky without evidence, but Captain Tool seems to think they can just, you know, make it up or some shit. "If we get the job done, do you think they're going to sweat us on the how?" Fuck you, Captain Tool.

Back in Zemo's plane, Bucky's fastidiously cleaning his metal arm, like a big grumpy cat. And Sam is trying to get a lead on the person (Madani) Nagel told him Karli wanted to help. He's got Torres on it.

They get to talking about the shield and how many people died or got messed up because of it/the serum. Sam says he made a mistake giving it up and he should have destroyed it. Bucky says, "Look that shield represents a lot of things to a lot of people, including me. The world is upside down, we need a new Cap, and it ain't gonna be Walker [preach]. So before you destroy it, I'll take it from him myself." Kick his ass, Bucky!

Torres gets back to Sam just as Zemo brings them lunch. Such a good host. "They found Madani. Dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea." … was that last bit really necessary? Like Riga is such a mystery? Even if you don't know where it is, like, that's so weirdly clunky. Somehow I think if you don't know Riga, you probably don't have the Baltic in the map in your head, either. 'Have you ever been to London? A city on the River Thames.' 'I've always wanted to go to Los Angeles, a city near the Pacific Ocean.'

Bucky should have said "oh yeah, i love Riga. I killed a diplomat there back in '64. Great beer."

Zemo's got a place they can go and he's looking forward "to coming face to face with Karli." Not creepy at all, Zemo. Nope.

Meanwhile, the kids are raiding the GRC depot and chatting way too much and calling each other by name. Oh dear.

"Filthy Flag Smashers" grumps a soldier tied up on the floor. I can't take them at all seriously with a name like that. Karli says they had six months of supplies just sitting there. "Don't you understand, we're fighting for our lives." Are you? Why and in what way?

Okay, so this is my continuing issue here. They're trying to build up this un-Blipped world, which is great, but they're doing it through So Much Exposition and so much of it is vague. We're supposed to think the GRC are probably shady, but are they? I don't know. Could be. They're sitting on these supplies! Evil! Maybe they are, but why? Why stockpile all that? Is it being sold on a black market? Or diverted to other people? Who knows! I don't. You don't.

We're supposed to sympathize with the Flag Munchers, but they're so vague in their goals. They want the world back how it was during the Blip. Okay. How was it? I don't know. What was so great about it? What we saw in Endgame didn't look all that great. But, we saw it from a different point of view, to be sure. So, what was it like for the average person who survived? Hell if I know. Also the Munchers want to help the people in the displacement camps. Okay. So do those two goals go together? I don't know. Are all the displacement camps bad? We're meant to think so, but I don't know. Is it just some of them? Is it regional? Who, exactly, are the displaced? It seems to be a mix of those who were blipped and those who weren't. I guess. I don't know.

It's just all taken out of the Big Book Of Cliched Assumptions for Lazy Worldbuilding. Why actually do the hard work of details, when they can just fall back on tropes, make vague pronouncements about how 'bad' things are, and let us assume the answers. This might bother me less if we didn't have to spend so much time with Captain Tool and the Flag Munchers. I cannot tell you how much I currently don't care. I find this all very frustrating. I don't mean to spoil the fun. Let me look at Sam's face again:

That was better. But, I stopped too soon. We're still with the Munchers.

They're leaving the building they just looted, and there’s a bit of business I don’t care about, involving Karli’s car and how she’s not taking it, she’s going to just leave it parked, completely unsuspiciously in front of the building. And, she’s going to ride with her pal Mr. Dimbulb.

She tells him to put his seatbelt on and she's very insistent. And then her car blows up and the building catches fire and it’s very dramatic.

Her buddy's like wtf there were people in there and Karli says, "This is the only language these people understand." ARGH. Who people? Why is bombing them the only language they understand? Like, in this show, the GRC have literally DONE NOTHING. Nothing we’ve seen and nothing we’ve heard. At least have people chat about dark and dire rumors or something. Hell, they haven’t even been accused of doing anything other than ‘caring more about the people who returned than the ones who never left’ which is literally their job. sighing all night long. Maybe they’re horrible and evil and the Worst Thing Ever. But I DON’T KNOW THAT, because nothing in the show has bothered to establish that.

ANYWAY

Riga, a city on the Baltic Sea

The trio are walking down the street, Zemo expositing for us again. Sokovia was apparently swallowed by neighboring countries, erased from the map. "I don't suppose any of you bothered visiting the memorial? Of course not. Why would you?"

Bucky's looking not happy. Probably remembering '64. They get to Zemo's place and Bucky says he's going to go on a walk. Zemo and Sam go on ahead and Bucky watches until they're out of sight and he circles back and finds a beeping thingy on the ground. He notices something across the street. Ah another round beepy thing. Now he's collecting them. He steps into an alley and says, "You dropped something". Nobody immediately appears.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up." And he turns around and it's one of the Dora Milaje. She looks unhappy and she’d like to know where Zemo is. Yeah, the Wakandans are not just gonna let Zemo wander free. That's a sticky situation you got yourself in, White Wolf.

Credits.

Well, I really enjoyed the bits that didn't contain the Flag Munchers or Captain Tool. Do better with your world-building, people.

#tfatws #tfatws spoilers #tfatws liveblog #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #long post #sorry this got away from me

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years ago

Note

CHALLENGE: write your own recap of Clem's story before TFS.

Huh, interesting. Okay, I can write up a recap of Clem’s story before she and AJ enter Ericson’s gates. Though, be warned-- it’s gonna be long.

When Clementine was eight-years-old, her parents took a trip to Savannah and left her with a babysitter, Sandra. Before leaving, her father, Ed, gave Clementine the signature hat that she wears throughout the series. He told her she could borrow it until they came back home.

Clementine's final conversation with her parents was over the phone a few days before they were scheduled to come back.

“See you soon.”

Unfortunately, while they were gone, the walkers showed up and the world changed. They destroyed the neighborhood, Sandra was killed, and Clementine was forced to hide out in her treehouse until one evening when she heard a car accident off in the distance. Leaving the safety of her yard, Clementine saw an injured man calling for help.

Lee Everett stumbled into her yard, looking for help in her home before Clementine tried reaching out to him through her walkie-talkie. When he was attacked by her now zombified babysitter, she saved his life with a hammer.

Lee swore to protect her, taking her with him in search of a better place all while thoughts and worries of her parents weighed down on her. They eventually found a group and settled down in a motor-inn where things took a turn for the worst. Their food supply grew low, fights broke out between Kenny and Lilly often, and the realization that things wouldn’t go back to “normal” for a long time dawned on them. Clementine remained hopeful that her parents would find her. She had her walkie-talkie, after all.

Walkers, bandits, cannibals, destruction, violence, blood, betrayal, murder- all of that followed Clementine and Lee during their time together. Eventually, they were forced to leave the motor-in after bandits attacked them. Lilly, still suffering with the grief and trauma that came with her father’s murder, ended up murdering a member of the group herself. After deciding Lilly’s fate, they came across a fully functional train and the homeless man, Chuck, living inside.

It’s at this point, the only other kid her age, Duck, is on the verge of death after being bitten by a walker during the escape from the motor-in. In her grief, Katjaa takes her own life, leaving Kenny alone and broken.

While this happens, Chuck tells Clementine that what happened to Duck is going to happen to her, which rightfully scares her and angers Lee. After a chat with the old man, Lee comes back and decides that he and Clementine need to work better as a team, meaning she needs to learn how to shoot a gun, cut her hair, and work out a plan with him for when they hit Savannah.

On the way, they meet up with Christa and Omid, and it’s discovered that Clementine has been talking with a strange man who claims to know her parents over the walkie-talkie. Eager to see her parents again, Clementine tells him everything and trusts him to the point where he’s able to get her alone and kidnap her while the group hides out in a house within Savannah.

This man is later revealed to be the owner of an abandoned vehicle Clementine’s group scavenged, and his plan was to get revenge on Lee and the others while claiming he and Clementine can be a family.

He takes her to the Marsh House and locks her in a room after she’s able to get a hold of Lee. Clementine’s terrified of this man, realizing that he’s not as nice as he pretended to be and now she’s stuck with him, hoping that Lee would find her before this man hurt her.

Lee shows up and, with Clementine’s help, takes care of the stranger. With Clementine safe, but hundreds of walkers outside, Lee covers her in walker guts to disguise her scent so they can walk through the streets undetected.

As they’re walking, Clementine finally finds what she’s been looking for since the walkers showed up: her parents.

Lee falls down beside her, unconscious. Clementine, while horrified to see her parents as walkers, manages to drag Lee to safety in an abandoned, tightly secured jewelry store.

It’s here that Lee reveals that he was bit by a walker and doesn’t have much time left before he turns. Clementine urges him to try and get up, to leave with her, but instead, he asks her to handcuff him to a heater. They take care of a walker, and Clementine’s left with a gun and keys to the door.

After Lee dies, Clementine wanders by herself until she spots two familiar figures off in the distance- Christa and Omid. The three of them travel together all while Christa goes through her pregnancy.

Months pass. They come across some bathrooms and take the time to clean up. Clementine enters one by herself, eager to wash her dirty face when she accidentally knocks over her water bottle. Going into one of the stalls to retrieve it, the bathroom door opens, and a stranger enters. Clementine left her gun on the sink, and it finds its way into the stranger’s hands.

The stranger threatens Clementine, which catches the attention of Omid, who does his best to sneak in and help.

Omid startles the stranger, resulting in her fatally shooting him. Christa runs in, shoots the frantic stranger, and cradles Omid’s dead body while Clementine watches in horror and overwhelming guilt.

Clementine travels with Christa for a sixteen months, and during that time, Christa lost her baby and holds bitterness towards Clementine after what happened to Omid. They end up separated after a group attack, and Clementine falls into a rough river.

Alone, freezing, and hungry, Clementine comes across a camp with a lone dog named Sam. Sam attacks Clementine after she finds a can of food, and she has no choice but to fight him off, killing him in the process.

Exhausted, traumatized, and with a torn apart arm, Clementine wanders into the walker-infested woods. Luckily, she’s saved by a couple of survivors, Luke and Pete. They discover her dog bite, mistaking it for a walker bite. Before they can decide what to do, Clementine passes out and wakes up with the cabin group.

Carlos, the group’s doctor, suggests they lock her up in the shed and wait to see if she’s telling the truth about her bite rather than being a decent human being and helping her. Clementine is forced to sneak out and steal supplies to stitch up her own arm. During this time, she meets Sarah, another kid who wants to be her friend.

The group finally brings her in after she kills a walker that broke into the shed and berates them for not believing her. Apologetic, Luke sits at the table with her as she eats a hot meal and shares bits of her past with him. Once she’s left alone to finish her meal, Rebecca comes in. Rebecca is pregnant and far along in the pregnancy, and with a child that may not belong to her husband, Alvin.

After a visit from yet another stranger, Clementine learns that this group is running from a man named William Carver, the same man who could possibly be the father of Rebecca’s baby. He’s hunting them down in order to get Rebecca and the baby back, and the group needs to leave the cabin.

After several days of travel, they come across a lodge with another group living inside, as well as a familiar face- Kenny. The nice reunion sours quickly as Kenny immediately becomes possessive over Clementine while reminders him of what happened to his wife and child come back up, making him hostile.

Carver’s group tracks them down. After a handful of deaths, they’re forced to cooperate and be apart of Carver’s community. While there, murder and violence are reoccurring events. With the help of a loner woman named Jane, they develop a plan of escape after Carver murders a man in cold blood because Clementine and Sarah weren’t working in the greenhouse properly.

The plan goes awry after Luke’s caught, leaving Carver bloodthirsty to know where a missing walkie-talkie is- the one Clementine stole. Kenny protects Clementine by taking the blame for this and Carver almost beats him to death.

That night, they put their new plan into motion. Clementine sets off a sound system in Carver’s office to attract a horde of walkers to Howe’s, Kenny murders Carver, and the group covers themselves in walker guts to escape. Carlos is killed, sending Sarah into a full-blown breakdown. Sarita is also bitten at this point, something Kenny places full blame on Clementine for. The rest of the group manages to escape.

Rebecca’s baby is close now that her water broke, so Clementine and Jane find a safe place for her to have the baby. While there, they meet a kid named Arvo who’s hiding meds he claims are for his sick sister. Jane threatens him before kicking him out.

Rebecca eventually has the baby- Alvin Jr. Though she becomes too weak after the birth and eventually dies when the group is attacked by Arvo’s group, causing a shoot-out.

AJ manages to be okay once the dust settles, and Jane makes her return. Taking Arvo hostage, he leads them to a half-built house with food and a fireplace. However, Kenny’s rage gets the better of him and he beats Arvo, only stopped when the others intervene.

The group grows more and more afraid of Kenny and what he’s capable of. Jane warns Clementine against him while Kenny pleads for her to trust him. When Mike, Arvo, and Bonnie plan to steal all their supplies and drive off, Clementine is shot in the shoulder, falling unconscious and dreaming of Lee.

With everyone besides Kenny and Jane either dead or missing, Clementine has no choice but to stick with them as they drive through the snow. An argument breaks out between Kenny and Jane, escalating until they come to a roadblock.

They all get separated. Clementine’s forced to trudge through the snow until she finds a safe building with a frantic Kenny inside. Jane finds them, too, but she’s no longer carrying AJ.

The breaking point is breached, and Kenny and Jane fight to the death while Clementine pleads for them to stop.

The only way to stop the fighting is for one of them to die, and Clementine knows this. She makes a difficult choice.

AJ’s cries can be heard in the distance. Clementine finds him in a car, alive. Jane hid him away to make a point about Kenny. With AJ safe and in her arms, Clementine either goes with her new caretaker or goes off on her own.

About a year later, Clementine and AJ are surviving on their own, running from walkers before taking shelter in a small, abandoned building. Here they meet another survivor named Ava. They hide out together until the walkers leave, and Ava invites her to meet her people, a group called the New Frontier.

Clementine and AJ end up joining with them for a while before AJ got sick. Dr. Lingard does what he can to help him, but eventually, everyone gives up hope that AJ will beat the sickness... all except Clementine. Desperate to save him, she refuses to listen to Dr. Lingard or anyone else, taking it upon herself to get the medicine AJ needs to make him better.

Unfortunately, she’s caught and kicked out. David takes AJ away from her, telling her he’ll die if he goes out there. She’s devastated and heartbroken at this, calling them all monsters for taking her only family away from her.

She has no choice but to leave where she survives alone for a bit, traveling between communities. One evening, she spots a working vehicle and decides to cut a tree down to stop it, intending on taking it for herself.

Here she meets a bound man named Javier Garcia who claims he was kidnapped by the group and his family was left at a junkyard. Clementine offers to help him if he gives her his van.

The two make it to a community called Prescott where Clementine interrogates a man who traded her bad bullets. In the fight, she accidentally kills him, which causes an uproar within the tavern. People around Prescott talk about how she murdered a man in cold blood.

Eventually, Clementine and Javi are able to make it back to his family only for the happy reunion to be cut short after Javi’s niece, Mariana, is murdered. This confrontation leads this group of assholes to attack Prescott, destroying everything and killing its people. Clementine and the crew manage to get away, but with Kate shot and in need of more help than they can offer, they have no choice but to head over to another community called Richmond.

It’s revealed that Richmond was taken over by the New Frontier, which causes Clementine to panic. She confides in Javi about her secret connection to the New Frontier, revealing the brand on her arm. Conrad overhears this conversation, threatening to shoot Gabe if she doesn’t cooperate and come with them as their hostage.

They make it to Richmond where it’s discovered that David is Javi’s brother, Kate’s husband, and Gabe’s father. Despite this, the group ends up kicked out. Clementine once again confides in Javi about AJ’s fate.

They meet up with David again, who Clementine is furious with, demanding to know if AJ suffered before he died. David reveals that AJ’s still alive, that he got over his sickness and was left in Dr. Lingard’s care. Full of a new determination, Clementine decides to head back to Richmond with the group. She separates to find Dr. Lingard, who is unconscious due to drugs.

Javi comes in, wounded, and Clementine stitches him up. When Lingard comes to, he makes a deal that he’ll tell Clementine where AJ is if they give him a lethal dose to kill him.

With Javi stitched up, Clementine reunites with Ava and Gabe, who exchange friendly words. They put the plan to save David in motion, finding that Joan is going to have him executed in front of the whole community. They manage to stop this, but when Kate drives in and breaks a wall, it lets in a horde of walkers that begin attacking everyone.

Once they regroup, they form a plan to get out of Richmond and find a vehicle that’ll help save its people. During this time, Clementine inquires more info about AJ from David.

Once they find a working vehicle, a fight breaks out between David and Javi. Clementine steps in to break it up, only to have David grab Gabe and leave. Kate insists that she has to go back to help the people of Richmond, and Javi and Clementine are left with a choice of what to do.

In the end, Richmond is saved but with lots of casualties and work left to be done. Now that Clementine knows where AJ is, she makes it her goal to find him no matter what. But first, she asks if Javi will give her a haircut before she leaves.

Clementine says her goodbyes to Javi and the Garcia’s, set on finding AJ at McCarroll Ranch.

“I’m coming, AJ.”

And she found him.

#asks #long post #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg lee #twdg christa #twdg omid #twdg kenny #twdg jane #twdg javi #twdg david #twdg gabe #this was weirdly fun to write out?#hmmmm

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flowercrown-bucky · 4 years ago

Text

As it turns out, adventuring in the unconscious mind is super overrated.

Fandom: 1970s!Loki Multi-Chapter

Pairing: Loki x ConArtist!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, drug references, later death, later smut, crime, loki and the reader are con artists..... It’s a wild one y’all, hold onto yo’ seats.

.Word Count: Lots

Chapter One

[Something Wicked This Way Comes - Chapter Two]

Loki’s life on Asgard has become vapid; uninspiring. He’s got the taste for a little danger. During a trip to earth, he finds just the danger he’s looking for.A partner in crime - in every imaginable sense.

TAGLIST IS OPEN - EITHER COMMENT OR MESSAGE ME TO BE ADDED

Authors’ Note: When I worked as a barmaid, one of my regulars used to refer to his wife as ‘the current Mrs Osbourne’. I always found it funny, and I snuck it in here.

Also - I’m back. Yipee ki yay, motherfuckers.

You sighed as you slept, your breasts heaving.

Loki turned on his side, running the tips of his fingers over your sleeping form. The thin blanket was draped over you, not quite thick enough to warm your body properly.

You snored, he had noticed, and it had bothered him to no end. As a god, he was required to sleep very rarely, which left him with nothing better to do than watch you sleep, most nights.

He was intrigued by your mind. He had never entered a consciousness quite like it before, and the mystery of the contents of the shelves was really getting on his nerves.

Over the last few weeks, you’d been sharing a room. After all, it was cheaper to have one room and it helped maintain the pretence that you were husband and wife.

Your system had become fairly streamlined, and you’d become quite comfortable in each others’ presence. Comfortable enough that you’d allow yourself to sleep and trust him to protect you. After all, your body was a powerful asset, and you would rather it remained in one piece.

Your unconscious mind, however, was a mystery to Loki, and one he fully intended to investigate.

He lifted his hand, pressing his palm against your forehead.

He looked around, briefly. It was just ask dark as it had been before, and just as empty.

He wandered towards the boxes again. What was stored in your mind that you so badly needed to hide? You had revealed everything to him, but not your mind, and that was a concept he really, really struggled with.

He grabbed at the handle, jiggling it with all his might, but it just wouldn’t budge.

“I told you never to invade my mind again.” Your voice startled him.

“You’re supposed to be asleep.” He spun on his heel.

“And you are most certainly not supposed to be inside my head, so don’t try to take the highroad with me.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’re supposed to be asleep.” He repeated, blinking incredulously. “Your body is asleep. How are you not asleep?”

“Are you broken, or owt?” You raised your eyebrow. “As you can well see, I am not asleep. I find it suits me to be at least partially conscious at all times.”

“Are you always like this when you’re sleeping?” He eyed you suspiciously, sat once again on your chair.

During the short period of time he’d known you, he had discovered that you found it very difficult to sit normally on a chair, opting instead for a number of uncomfortable looking and seemingly anatomically impossible positions. It didn’t annoy him as much as had he thought it might.

He’s asked you about it once. You’d mentioned that you had been briefly employed as a contortionist, but brushed it off whenever he tried to bring it up again.

In all honesty, it wasn’t the most unusual thing he’d discovered about you.

“Yup.” You popped the P. “And yes, that does mean that your midnight perving has not gone unnoticed.”

“I do not perv.” He rested one hand on his hip. “I observe interesting things. You happen to be interesting.”

“Well, I sure am glad you think so.” You drawled. “Anyhoo, to what do I owe the pleasure of this little midnight intrusion?”

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s in all these boxes?” He asked.

“Trust me when I say it is best for our combined safety that I don’t.” You looked straight into his eyes.

He hated when you did that. The only other person who had ever looked at him was that same intensity was his mother, and she had always had quite the knack for staring straight into his soul.

Come to think of it, so did you.

Loki shifted his weight in his seat, lifting his eyes from the steadily melting ice cube in his glass to the pair of breasts that had shifted into his line of vision. They were, he noted, rather nice breasts. Large.

“Another drink?” A smooth voice asked him.

“I’m good, thanks.” He cleared his throat, waving a hand dismissively. With the assistance of his unique talents, the evening’s entertainment had left him rather better off than he had started.

To any other man, being dealt a three and a seven as a holecard in your first game of the evening would surely be a bad sign of things to come. But Loki was no ordinary man, and with a little coercion his cards had switched themselves out for a slightly better hand. Never a pair of aces, he had learned, it was much too suspicious. No, two queens were his weapon of choice.

But, as ever, if you made a man a fool, he would call you a thief.

It did not bother him much. He had been called far worse.

He’d had no need for your quick hands and easy deceptions in his games this evening - but you were, as ever, his charming accomplice, as pretty and poisonous as you had been the night you met him.

His eyes were on you now, and it seemed he was not alone in that. You were slightly distracted as you crossed the room, one hand running through your hair to smooth it. Your carefully outlined eyes had smudged ever so slightly, the seam that ran down your left thigh slightly askew.

“Really? Him?” He raised one eyebrow as you approached him.

“What? He’s cute.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “Sort of.”

“Finished?” He continued, holding out his hand.

“He certainly is.” You raised your eyebrows.

He pulled a face at you, and you couldn’t help but grin as you reached your hand into the side of your dress. This was, he had learned, your favourite place to keep things you would rather not lose - with the exception of your handgun, of course, which was always either tucked into the band around your thigh or under your pillow whilst you slept.

He wondered briefly how the hell you explained why you were in immediate possession of a 10mm glock to the gentlemen you entertained.

A tiny metal key dangled between two of your delicately manicured nails, and he grinned.

“You beauty.” He held his hand out further to you, palm up, waiting for you to drop it.

“Tut, tut, tut. Where are your manners?” You teased. “Ask nicely.”

He stared at you incredulously. You tilted your head to one side, sticking your tongue out mockingly.

“You are an infernal nuisance, you know that?” He rolled his eyes, leaning over to grab your arm and tug you into his body. You were supposed to be his wife, after all.

“So I’ve heard. Now, if you want the candy..” You leaned into him, your voice dropping to a low whisper. “You’ve got to play ball.”

Your lips brushed gently against his jawbone, nothing more than a chaste brush of skin, leaving a burning trail in their wake.

“You know I could just kill you, right?” He turned to you, trailing his fingers down your arm, his own wrapping round your waist.

“But what would be the fun in that?” You blinked up at him innocently.

If he wasn’t a god, if he didn’t have so much self restraint, he would be melting in your hands.

He felt a gentle jingle and a slight weight in his back pocket, followed by the gentle brush of your fingers across his bum.

“You know, a good fuck would really sort out your little attitude problem.” He mused, turning to face you.

“Nice try, Loki.” You rolled your eyes. “And, well..” You waved your hand at the gentleman who had been your evening’s companion.

“I said good.” He chuckled. “And by the way, darling, you really shouldn’t touch a man’s bum like that. Leads the mind to all sorts of unsavoury places.”

“You fucking wish.” A very un-ladylike snort left your mouth.

“Mr Evans, who exactly might this delightful young thing be?” A sharp voice drew his attention.

He glanced up at the man standing before him. He was tall, taller than Loki, and thin, like one of of those gross spiders you find in the corner of your room. His face was drawn, likely from stress, he concluded . A smattering of whiskers littered his chin, a slightly unpleasant twinkle in his lined eyes.

“My lovely lady wife.” He smiled, pulling you in to him a little tighter. “The current Mrs Evans.”

You turned your head in such a way that only he could see you rolling your eyes.

“Charmed, I’m sure.” You turned back to face your company, a tight lipped smile curving on your face. “I do apologise, but I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“It does seem that way, so please, allow me to introduce myself.” He took your hand in his own, lifting it to his face and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Roger Slater. I was just chatting to your husband here, not twenty minutes ago.”

Something about the way he was looking at you made Loki grab you a little tighter.

“Would you like anything to drink?” He asked, trying to remain as polite as he was able. “I’m sure my fine lady can assist me in carrying a few extra drinks.”

“An old fashioned, if you would, my good man.” His tone was level, his voice smooth. It made Loki cringe.

You weren’t paying that much attention to either of the men before you, so the cold fingers wrapped around your wrist and the sudden sharp tug came as something of a surprise to you. So much so, that you almost yelped in surprise.

Almost.

You gathered your composure as you steadied yourself, smoothing down your skirt with your free hand. You weren’t sure whether it was the heels that left you so unsteady on your feet, or the negroni you had necked not five minutes earlier.

Loki’s hand was tight on your wrist as he led you towards the bar, his fingers icy cold on your delicate skin. Why was he always so cold?

“Be careful with that one.” He whispered. You opened your mouth to question him, but he had turned towards the barmaid to request more drinks.

The man to your left wasn’t particularly subtle in his eyeing of you, his gaze sweeping your form a few times before shooting you a smile that made your skin crawl.

You shuddered, grabbing at the tumbler closest to you and taking a long sip, scowling to yourself.

“Why the long face?” A look of bemusement settled on Loki’s face - something you found really, really infuriating.

“These men.” You grumbled. “They talk to me, treat me like a pretty little piece of fucking meat.”

“That’s because to them, you are.” He shrugged dismissively. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Rage bubbled in the pit of your stomach, like an angry, venomous torrent climbing up your throat.

“Why, you little - hmmmph.” His hand slapping over your mouth cut you short.

“Might I remind you, darling, that you have a role to play. You shall get your vengeance.” He shot you a sickeningly sweet grin. “But for now, you shall have to grin and bear it, little pork chop.”

You seethed from behind his hand.

“Hold your tongue, that’s all I ask of you.” His gaze was earnest. “Will you do that for me?”

You cast your gaze downwards, nodding your head.

“Good girl.” He lifted his hand from your mouth, smiling as you glowered at him. He kissed your hand delicately, a brush of his lips across the skin of your knuckles, before holding out his arm for you to take.

The unusual gentleman, Mr Slater, was, as promised, still waiting for you across the room. He thanked you politely as you handed him his drink, his eyes alight as if something were terribly funny.

“Are you sure we have never met before, Mrs Evans?” His left eye quirked as he spoke. “You seem awfully familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“I guess I just have one of those faces.” You shrugged.

“Yes, quite.” He said. “Anyway, I have a rather unusual talent that I often whip out at parties, just as a little amusement. I feel it might interest you both, if you care to indulge my silliness.”

You glanced across at Loki, trying to hide the bewilderment from your face. He shrugged, holding out his hands.

“Be my guest.” He agreed.

You weren’t really sure what exactly you were expecting. Perhaps table top magic - rabbits out of a hat, coins from behind ears, that type of thing. Hell, maybe he was truly psychotic and was going to stab the both of you.

“It’s more of a childish parlour trick, really, but I have this unusual gift for reading people. Amateur psychology, really, but rather fun.” He grinned at your confused faces. “I pick up little things about people, tells me all sort of things. Secret affairs, family feuds, the yearnings of the heart. Even people’s greatest fears.”

He paused for a moment, lifting his glass to his mouth. He gathered the drips from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, looking back up at you both.

You thought it was a real shame he considered ‘people reading’ his greatest talent and not this overblown display of amateur dramatics.

“The pair of you are a little more enigmatic than most, but I think I could give it a crack, if you would allow me.”

You nodded breathlessly as he leaned towards you, your heart hammering in your chest. It was almost as if every nerve, every cell in your body was imploring you, screaming at you to not let this strange man come any closer to you.

Your feet felt frozen in place as his hand landed on your shoulder, his calloused palms like sandpaper against the soft skin of your shoulder. A breath stilled in your throat as his head dipped so his lips were level with your ear.

“You will kill again, and it terrifies you.” He whispered. “It keeps you up at night, doesn’t it? Not the knowledge of what you have done, but what you know you will do. It’s okay, darling, your secret is safe with me.”

You exhaled sharply as he drew away from you, a nervous laugh bubbling out of your chest.

Who the fuck was this guy?

He winked at you as he took another sip of his drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Loki’s line of vision flitting back and forth between the two of you, looking for any hint of what he had said to you, what could’ve so clearly, so deeply, unsettled you.

You sure as hell weren’t going to tell him.

Your eyes followed him closely as he leaned in towards Loki. Unlike you, he maintained his cool composure, but you were fairly certain you saw something adjacent to fear flicker in the back of his eyes.

Over time, you’d become an accomplished lip-reader, but this time, you felt for sure that your skill had failed you. You’d not picked up much, a single word, in fact, but you knew it couldn’t be correct.

That word, that single word, that allegedly had Loki witless with fear?

Himself.

His hand shot out, grabbing at your wrist, his nails biting into your skin.

“I’m really sorry, but my wife and I have to leave.” He spat out, turning on his heel, and striding away as quickly as his legs would carry him, almost dragging you behind him.

You had never seen him this flustered before. His cheeks were ever so slightly pink, his eyes glittering with anger, his chest rapidly expanding with every shallow breath. His grip on your wrist was like a vice, and you felt for certain that there would be the imprints of his long fingers marring your skin in the morning.

Just before you reached the door, you were fairly certain you heard the unusual man call ‘See you around!’ cheerfully over your shoulder.

“Who the hell was that?” You asked as you hurried down the corridor towards the lift.

“I don’t know.” He replied. “Like he said, we were talking when you were out. He owns a jewellery company. I didn’t think he’d try and get to us. Messing with you in that way, saying he thinks he knows you to try and catch you offguard.. It’s certainly unusual behaviour.”

“See, there’s the thing. I don’t think he was fucking with me there. He looked familiar to me, too. I think I’ve met him before.” You pressed a finger to your lip thoughtfully. “And don’t even try taking the ‘weak mortal’ path here. You were bricking it too, I could see it in your face.”

“You see what I want you to see, little mortal, and nothing more.” He shot you a glare. “Now, about that key.”

“We all see only what we’re shown, Loki.” You mused. “Even you.”

He glanced at you curiously as you stepped into the lift.

The encounter with Mr Slater had left Loki deeply unsettled. From the very off, something about the strangle man had made him uncomfortable.

He couldn’t even really work out why. He was, if anything, perfectly pleasant. Polite, courteous, well spoken. There was, at least on the surface level, nothing wrong with him.

But yet, he was nothing short of creepy. His smile wouldn’t have been any more unsettling if black widow spiders had crawled out from in between his pale lips.

When he revealed he had a little talent, Loki wouldn’t have been entirely shocked if he’d told him it involved punting kittens.

He himself was not exactly known for his strict adherence to anything resembling a moral code, and if anything, it made it all the more unusual that he had affected Loki so badly.

If there is anyone in this world - or any other - to be truly afraid of, it’s not the man who stalks your nightmares - it’s who stalks his.

He was, however, desperate to know what Roger had said to you. You would, of course, never tell him. Under other circumstances, he would consider subduing you in some way, but from the few encounters with your subconscious mind he had already had, he got the feeling that even then you wouldn’t willingly surrender the information.

It was this he was pondering as he rifled through the irritatingly mundane belongings of one Mr J Grey. When you’d selected him as your victim of the evening, you’d done so on the premise that he was wearing a very expensive suit, but as Loki was discovering, he hadn’t quite been the man you were looking for. Aside from half a gram of cocaine in a small ziploc bag - honestly, who kept their narcotics in their bedside table? - and a scuffed Barclaycard with yet more cocaine tightly pressed into the embossed numbers - expired, he had checked - he had found nothing of any real value. Knock-off watches, fake leather wallets, poorly made suits, but nothing particularly valuable.

“Your judgement is poor, darling.” He said. “This man is both immensely dull and revoltingly messy.”

“I am sorry to disappoint, but we Terrans are a rather messy species.” You remarked. “In fact, we are renowned for it.”

He laughed, staring down at his gloved hands. You were quite right - humans truly were a messy, invasive little species. A cosmic nuisance, of sorts. He was just glad that, for the most part, they stuck to their own planet. The furthest they had actually gotten was their own bloody moon, so they weren’t exactly regarded as a threat to other species.

“I think we should cut our losses and get out of here before he gets back.” You sighed, running your hand through your hair.

Loki muttered his agreement, rising from where he knelt on the floor. He was happy to dispose of the clammy plastic that clung to his hands, flinging them into his pocket dimension as he headed towards the door.

He dropped a throw-away comment as he walked down the corridor, eliciting a true, from-the-chest belly laugh from you. Quick as ever, you responded within a heart beat, but Loki found himself missing your witticism, distracted by a sudden thought.

Since when did humans start referring to themselves as Terrans?

TAGLIST: @chxrryycola @the-middle-oldest-child @possessedjoker @amour-delicate @marvelouslyme96

#loki x reader #tom hiddleston x reader #loki smut #tom hiddleston smut #loki #tom hiddleston #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki fanfiction #thor the dark world #thor ragnarok

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cora-the-dramatic · 3 years ago

Text

BNHA_WAXQUIRK_OC

[semi-coerent ramblings]

The Candle Wax Hero: Soybean(name under revision lmao)

Name: Hirose Kaoru(First name means fragrance)

Appearance:??

Parents:??

Quirk: Wax, can make wax constructs, like the wax-wax devil fruit. Is low-key about her powers, makes people think that she can make and most a shed or small house when she can totally make concrete-strong apartments out of wax. Keys, rapped fire sharp wax projecticles, wax armour, wax prison, etc. When she overuses her quirk her hair catches fire, she gets a fever, a headache, desidrated, and all around exhausted but unable to sleep.

Personality:??

Dream: To be an average gal pal hero, who absolutely does not know ANY weird shit at all, no sirr. (She wants to help people, but also wants to live happily, and boringly.)

-----000-----

-Has her own agency.

-Is not low-key, but not flashy either

-Very oblivious to people's admiration, but when she notices fells flattered and happy.

-doesn't check out other heroes or the rankings very often. Normally only watches the top 15, and *maybe* top50 heroes.

-When she is interviewed she goes on long ramblings about what she's doing to help the community, why it's important, why other heroes should do it, and how civilians can help. When confronted with any prejudice she completely derails the show, extolling about the difficulties of mutation-types, villainous quirks, weak quirks and the quirkless. The reporters that thought she was timid or just a pretty face are barreled over by her oblivious essay-reading talks, minimizing or completely eliminating the chance for gossip, publicity or drama. Because of it she becomes a meme and internet celebrity, as well as a small idol for the victimized and villainized people; also because she's completely hilarious, as well as posting her essays, articles, and funding online(only eventually noticing that they get money). Unfortunately she only goes there to use it as a public journal as well as an awareness platform.

-she absolutely does not notice when she gets to the top 200.

-She does not have a lot of official merc, but they're all practical and come for all body types and mutations, being all types of quirk-prof and coming quite cheap. It ends up being used as a cheap, durable, affordable clothing by all.

-She volunteers stuff, what most would do to public service punishment, chatting with people, discussing stuff, helping around the community. Playing with kids, volunteering in hospitals, picking up trash, cleaning trash heaps with her quirk(compresion), occasionally cleaning the streets and helping around in general, Making support beans and just helping around in general. Not being flashily like that.

-she influences others to do more too. To do more community service, to have their own honest vloggings and posts. To volunteer and help.

-she gets a minor rival(?) who tries to out-do her by doing all the community service, Kaoru instead thanks them, said she admires them and obliviously one-ups them by opening like, a school or something, idk

-Uses a mask? Maybe? Either that or she's always been recognized.

-helps out with underground stuff when she can

-Is publicly disappointed in both the commission and Endeavour.

-Publicly says she doesn't like all might, or rather, what he represents.

-loves boba tea.

-has a side job of selling candles. Bethey big and artistic, small and compact, they're all pretty.

-Secrets keep being dumped on her lap, she doesn't like this.

-She believes she's succeeding in being lowkey. She is ABSOLUTELY not.

-She does not attend the annual gala for top 200. Everybody is surprised. She's invited by the top interviewers, and ends up rambling about how she kinda wishes she could have gone and its moments like these that she wishes she were a top 200. Everybody kinda stalls at that. And realizes that she is, in fact, not kidding. They make her look it up online and her face is meme-worthy.

-interviewer: why didn't you go to the gala

Her: i'm not a top200, but i wish

Interviewer: you are, in fact, a top200

Her:???what?????

-Is invited to do presentations at school

-is publicly suspicious of the commission.

-post{ uh, does anybody think Hawks is an overworked baby or is it just me??? #givethismanahug #getsomesleephawks #mycomissionsensesaretingling #newfannammeforhawks:babybird}

-post{congratulations again to endeavour for completely analihating a villain that had three broken ribs, a concussion, malnutrition and was having a flashback due to accidental misuse of quirk after being assaulted by a hero using exercise force for stealing groceries! Great job, buddy! #flamingtrash}

-post{...i'm halfway tempted to sue UA for this shit. @LordExplosionmurder if you want some lawyer contacts just hit me up. #whyisthisbabychainedup??? #unnecessary #unjust}

-private text{ Soybean: Hey! It's pro hero Soybean, I'm wondering if you're okay after the shit you went through at the festival? If i can help in any way or if you just want to chat, hit me up!}

-post{actual serious essay about why ua action was bad after info gathering. Hoping they change ways and policies, and that this never happens again.}

-post{everyone that thinks those 1-A kids need therapy say aye! #omg #therapy #lookatallthesetraumatisedbabies Comments: Soybean: AYE! *fixed*}

-post{ i never feel as gay as i do as when i see Miruku destroy villain ass #powerfull #beautiful #shelooksatmeandillDIE}

-agency growns.

------0000------

Story outline{ imma be following cliche movie shit that i hate. Imma use the flashbacksies}

Chp1: •Dramatic inner monologue on a roof. Is a hero, achieved all she wanted in life, has her own agency. Hears a sound and goes to fight villain, she accesses the situation, form a climax/tension->

•flashback/past, The day she knew she would become a hero.

•(?)interceding flashes of past and present of her determination to be a hero(beat the villains ass ayyy, ends with a flash of the future(?)

Chp2: •Description of her day, painfully detailed, as boring as possible, end in cheerful note about how she loves how boring it is, and how for her its not boring at all. Description includes how her agency works, how it interacts with nearby agencies, what the status is for the neighbourhoods in general, how the crime rate is, compares it to other crime rates for other villains and hero's areas. Talk about her small number of employees and how she found them, briefly. Talk about where she sleeps, if its in an apartment, if it's in the office, where both are located and about the neighbours. Talk about the neighbours, about their clothes and their voices and how she feels about them, all in that satisfied this-is-normal-and-i-love-it kind of way. Talk about if she has a pet, about her apartment, touch briefly about something that reminds her of hero school, continue describing her apartment and the things there. Move on to what she's gonna eat, from where, what fast food and groceries, about how she thinks about food and who or if she shares her meals with. Have her have an idea for the community in general and head to bed.

•Flashback that surrounds the item that made her remember something. It needs to be something that makes her bittersweet. Like how her school was full of assholes, and that her teacher didn't like her because she was either too quiet or too loud, how she poked at too many sore spots and was bullied for it. Talk about a grand event similar to the sports festival at UA, and how a teacher -just tease, maybe don't even properly name- encouraged her to be better, and made her actually put up a fight, despite considering herself a coward at the time, and ended up getting 3rd place. Finish with her hurt, in pain but staring her bullies and the people who defeated her(maybe someone with something similar to pain quirk) down(also bullies?).

Chp3: •Describe in painful detail about her day to day school life. Her first year or second. Describe the building, if its dorm system or home-to-school system, describe what she sees on her way there, and the people she talks to. Talk about her bullies and the victims, and the people who watch, talk about the other classes and someone she admires at school, who she wishes she would talk to if she only had the courage. Talk about the teachers, how they interact, talk about her favorite teacher and how he helps her so much and how he takes care of her.

#semi-coerent ramblings #bnha #boku no hero academia #Fanfic ideas #bnha oc

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phoenotopia · 4 years ago

Text

2020 July Update

Things have gone slowly... again.

The good news is that the game is now submitted to the console "authority" and it's entirely off my hands. Once it gets through the console "checking" process, it can get a release date and we can sprint towards release. Until then, it'd be at least a month's wait or more until I hear anything. Understandably, their checking process is impacted by Corona, so wait times are increased.

On my end, I was also slow to submit the game. I submitted it late late June, since I ended up spending 7 weeks fixing bugs (and not 2-3 weeks like I estimated in the last blog post). There were just SO many bugs - now squished, thankfully. Since this is a blog post, I'll talk about what kind of bugs I've been fixing.

The other thing that slowed down the submission process was simply due to unfamiliarity with how these submissions proceed. There were pages and pages of stuff to read, guidelines to follow, and legalese to wade through. It really made me wish I had a publisher to guide me through the process. But I was able to clear it with a couple days work. I had an impression that the submission process went like A->B->C->D, with no room for concurrency. Turns out I could have done steps B & C at the same time and sped things up by 2 weeks... So that's that. I'm taking that as a lesson for next time.

The Console Revealed

What is this console that I talk about so stealthily? So that this blog update isn't completely unexciting, I'll reveal which console I've been working on until now. Drumroll please!

It's Switch!

We actually got the Switch dev kit in late 2017. From my understanding, around this time in the USA, the Switch kit was quite hard to get for indies as it was just starting out and high in demand. So I was surprised that my application got approved. I didn't know it then, but the game would still need a few more years of development...

Tweaking performance and fixing bugs

Here you can see my "expert" playtest setup. Since the Switch is more powerful while docked, I needed to playtest it in handheld mode, so I could catch and profile any problem areas where the framerate was unsteady. The most common thing that caused framerate drops were areas that went overboard with lighting. For these areas, I'd tweak or swap out the lights with alternatives that looked similar while also being less computationally intensive. Maintaining 60 FPS is a must!

An old camera (Nikon D3100) trained at the screen recorded my playthrough and would let me rewind to any moment a bug occurred. It could only record in 10 minute chunks, so I'd have to repeatedly repress the record button. On the plus side, because it's so old the movie file sizes were small and convenient.

The number one bug that I tracked and fixed in the past two months was what I dub the "Gear Ring De-equip" bug. The Gear Ring functions as customizable shortcut keys for the player to map items and tools (see an old video demonstration HERE). Through regular use of the inventory, somehow the equipped items on the Gear Ring would be de-equipped. It was an elusive bug since the de-equip event would happen very quietly and you would only suspect something had gone wrong much later. By then, the trail had gone cold and you weren't sure if a de-equip had actually occurred or if the player had simply de-equipped the item themselves. Two other playtesters noted that something left the Gear Ring in their playthrough, but I dismissed them. "Are you sure you didn't just de-equip it yourself?" It was a bug that bred mistrust and discord. I didn't truly believe it until it happened to me...

Luckily, with the camera setup, I was finally able to track it. In the literal 67th video, I caught a live instance of the bug occurring. After which, it was all too easy to recreate the exact same inventory and gear ring setup and replicate it.

(With this exact item layout, combine the 2nd item with the 14th item... and viola! Gear Ring de-equip!)

After fixing this bug, I then proceeded to fix it 5 more times. Every time I fixed it, it would later reappear through a different mechanism.

Why do bugs like this happen? Underneath, there are two lists of items. Tools on the right and items on the left. Items can occur multiple times because they're consumable. Both lists start counting their indexes with the value 0. However, both items and tools co-exist on the gear ring. So to uniquely identify an entry you need both the item ID and the data index. Failure to check both data types resulted in bugs like the Gear Ring de-equip. Now throw in a bunch of item operations that can confuse the system. You can split items, combine items, swap items, or discard items. The more freedom you allow, the more ways there are for the system to trip up.

If you didn't get all that, that's alright. It was needlessly complicated. Imagine doing more and better and with less code and less bugs! Such a thing is possible if you start with the right design. I'm definitely taking notes here on how to design inventory systems for next time. In the meanwhile, I'm very confident I've squished all inventory related bugs.

Other bugs squashed and features implemented in the past 2 months include the end game arts not unlocking properly, collection percentages climbing beyond 100, stray doors floating in the sky, low HP sfx blaring when loading different files, balance tweaks on bosses, a max HP display when the menu is open - too many to count really! It was only after I fixed them all that I was confident enough to move forward with submitting the game. I apologize for the delay this will cause!

PC version back in progress

You may recall in the March 2020 update I talk about how in pursuing the Switch version, I unwittingly ruined the PC version. Well, since the game is "done" now and I'm waiting for it to go through the checking process, I've started working to reclaim the PC version.

And there is some good news to report. The PC version can compile again! Of course, it will need to have some work done, since it was late 2017 when I last had a functioning PC build.

The opening menu is broken, the underlying save file system needs to be updated, and the controls... oh Lord, the controls. Controls were probably the #1 factor in pushing me to pursue a console version first. There are just so many controller options. Even just the usual suspects are numerous: Xbox, Nintendo, Sony, Logitech, Hori, 8Bitdo, Steam...

One of the number one complaints received regarding the flash game (which was keyboard primarily) was that I didn't allow controller rebinding to start. It was then that I learned of the vast array of different keyboard types.

(Ever heard of an Azerty keyboard?)

I shan't make the same mistake twice! One of the things I'll definitely tackle is the Right/Left face button feud when it comes to which should one should be 'confirm' and which one is 'cancel'. I want to allow the player to choose which is their "YES" and "NO" preference and allow that to overlap other actions like Attack or Jump.

Even after control bindings are taken care of, some things just won't translate well. The right control stick is currently used to access the gear ring and for fishing. Keyboards have no right stick. Aiming the crossbow with a full 360 degrees of range is done with the left control stick - if keyboard only, would the crossbow simply be locked to the 8 cardinal directions? What about those tutorial prompts with button graphics (e.g. "Press 'B' to Jump"). If using the playstation controller, it'd need to be the CROSS symbol. How many button graphics are we gonna load into the text module? What if the player, mid-playthrough, decides to swap out controllers? Indeed, there are many issues to tackle where controls are concerned...

Perhaps I'm overthinking it because even some AAA games get this wrong (Dark Souls has 'B' as 'Yes' on Switch, and it's not remappable, which I find quite annoying). I've seen games on consoles where the controls wouldn't mention the console's controller at all but instead mention a mouse and keyboard. Or, if you remapped the controls, the tutorial prompts still showed the old control bindings, making for a confusing experience. I definitely want to do the controls justice, so this will take some time.

Phoenotopia DISCORD Channels

Ryan and Firana have been running a Phoenotopia discord since late 2017, which I promoted on this blog once. It's been a couple years and it turns out that the old discord link I promoted expired. It's long overdue, but their channel could use another shoutout. Here's their channel : https://discord.gg/cnjrYST

Also, Khalid recently reached out to me about creating a Phoenotopia discord as well. I see no reason why we can't have 2 or more discords, so he has created that one with my blessing as well. You can find his discord here : https://discord.gg/cfnsCwy

I personally don't use Discords, since I'm very busy and there's too much new tech to keep up with. I hear there's a Tik Tok now? Should I create a Tik Tok for Phoenotopia? Hmmm...

Anyway, if you'd like to chat with other people who are similarly enthused for Phoenotopia, do check them out!

Fan Arts

We have five new fanart submissions this time around from regulars and new alike.

Cody G. returns with this pair of sketches of Gail. One seeks to answer the question, "how is Gail so strong?" Cody's answer is that under her sleeves she's actually really buff! This might be the most ripped rendition of Gail yet. Also, in the right drawing, the letter 'E' kinda melds with her bat, making it look like a keyblade!

What if Gale was a Shrek character? A new artist, Samu Kajin, from tumblr answers that question with a rendition of Gail sporting ogre style antennae. Samu Kajin says she can be called "Gaek" or "Shrale". I like the poncho!

Shafiyahh returns with a pretty portrait of Gail. Unlike their previous digital pieces, this one was made with color pencils! I like how her hair blends pink and purple colors together, and this pattern is also present in the eyes. Reminds me of a certain character. And the eyes are so sparkly despite using color pencils! Major props!

Negativus Core also returns with this relevant image of Gail, masked and running, presumably from Corona. It gave me quite a chuckle! I like the angle and tilt of this run pose because you can see the sole of her foot - that's how you know she's at full sprint! A skillful blur localized to her left foot show's just the right amount of motion. Gotta love the robot's expression too!

A rare 3D art has emerged. Dany Q crafted this adorable figure of Gail that is as cute as a button! I like how well it translates the pixel character over to 3D, capturing the 3 stitches on her shirt and even catching her stray strand of hair. It kinda reminds me of a Wallace and Gromit character, so I can picture it moving and animating in that unique claymation style.

Next Time

I'm ~80% confident we can clear the Switch console checking process and drop the trailer with a release date before the next blog post. But once again, if things go slowly, you'll hear from us in 2 months...

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kominum · 5 years ago

Text

swept away // t.h.

hello, new writing blog here! i have another writing blog for a different fandom, but i wanted to make a separate one for t.h./p.p. scenarios. since this is new, i’ll be writing for prompts that interest me, but you can send in some as well for blurbs and whatnot!

genre: some angst, some fluff, pining, uni!au

prompt: you’re baking cookies in the communal kitchen at 3am and you’re really angry and hungry (adjustment from the prompt where another person is angry and hungry)

length: ~1.8k

This should not become a habit, you think to yourself. In fact, it shouldn’t have happened enough to begin with to even come close to becoming a habit, but after a couple of nights with too much alcohol and hangovers you’d rather never experience again, you’re here.

Here, in this communal kitchen, at 3 in the fucking morning, baking chocolate chip cookies in the oven.

Yes, homemade cookies are better. Yes, the tear-apart cookies from the grocery store are low-key trash. Yes, you know that they’re really not that good for you. But no, your professor decided to be an insufferable asshole during a physical chemistry lab session for the fifth fucking time, and you’re going to unwind somehow. You know that if you don’t, someone else will get the bad end of the stick aka someone will unfairly be on the receiving end of your murderous stare and you’d rather not get on anyone’s bad side. There’s a part of you that desires to be liked by everyone, which is probably 80% of the explanation as to why you let this asinine professor walk all over you for four hours a week.

So here you are, messy hair, lids heavy, eye bags dark, curled up in a chair and staring angrily at the oven, just waiting for the cookies to cook and let themselves be devoured by you. In the last few times, no one has been here, and you’re not worried about anyone catching you clad in a fandom hoodie and stained sweatpants.

As you’re thinking about all the different ways you could “accidentally” spill a harmless but staining chemical on top of your professor’s hair (especially the one that he very first yelled at you about because he truly thought you were stupid enough to not wear gloves, but instead the chemical had stained past the nitrile for fuck’s sake), soft padded steps make themselves known behind you. Naturally, you freeze and peer into the reflection of the oven cover, eyes trying to make out the details of the person behind you. A young man walks in donned in an oversized t-shirt with some scrawled text on it and pink pajama pants who later jumps back when he spots you around the corner. You watch him flinch in the reflection and almost drop his unwrapped bags of microwave popcorn before you turn in your chair and just...stare.

He’s cute. Despite the outfit, he’s ridiculously cute, and you can’t find the energy to muster a smile or even say hi. So essentially, he’s receiving a bitch stare while fumbling with the unpopped popcorn, finally managing to place it correctly in the microwave and glance in any direction but you, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his thigh. Your 3AM, sugar-addicted brain decides that it’ll do the stupid thing and force you to speak.

“Don’t you have a microwave in your own room?”

Cutie in pink zips around to look at you, completely bewildered, and he clears his throat. “Well..uh..the uh, um...microwave in my room is broken. Housing hasn’t come by to fix it,” he mumbles towards the end, your ears picking up a British accent. You hum in understanding and take a glance back at the timer on the oven, gauging whether or not your cookies needed more time. They’ve got a couple of minutes.

“Housing can take forever sometimes,” you add, trying to sound empathetic. “Both bags of popcorn are for you?”

“No,” he replies, sounding slightly offended. You throw your hands up in innocence, fighting a smile. “My mate and I are having a movie marathon. What about you? I can smell the cookies.”

“Yep, all 12 for myself. One of those days, you know? And it’s perfectly fine to have 2 bags of popcorn to yourself. Lord knows I’ve done it,” you snort, thinking about how just two weeks ago, the two bags of butter popcorn had become your dinner on a night that you needed to really hunker down and study.

“One of those days? Wanna talk about it?” He asks while listening for the number of pops in the microwave. Harrison would never forgive him if he burned popcorn because he was too busy talking to a girl.

“Well,” you rub your temples and stand up to take the cookies out of the oven. “Long story short, I have an asshole professor and I see him way too much for my own liking. If he makes another snide sexist comment about women being in science, I’ll be sorely tempted to complain to someone higher up.” Your hand picks up a cookie to check the bottom and nods in approval. “Want one?” You ask over a cookie in your mouth, handing the tray to the boy who’s putting in the second bag of popcorn.

He shrugs, “Thanks.” Doing the smart thing, he blows a bit on the cookie first before popping half of it into his mouth, eyes closing in satisfaction at the warm chocolate hitting his tongue. “Anyone who argues that warm cookies aren’t the best things sent to Earth, I have half a mind to have a go at ‘em.”

“I’m with you on that,” you laugh. “Better this than alcohol. Wanna take some more for your friend?”

“Yeah sure. Actually,” he pauses, gazing deeply into the microwave. “You wanna come watch the movies with us? Bring the cookies there too?” His eyes are full of hesitation and he chews nervously on the inside of his lip. Maybe he was too forward, maybe he was too friendly, maybe --

“Why not?” You shrug, said too fast and partially out of need for human contact and partially because the popcorn smells too good. It’d be nice to balance out the sweetness with some salt. “I hope they’re good movies.”

“Trust me, we have great taste in movies.”

And that’s how you found yourself following a cute British boy to his room with a tray of cookies and a warm heart.

Things had kicked off since then, the surprised look on Harrison’s face that day still ingrained into your mind. You had also passed out on Tom’s shoulder and woken up with a sore back on the couch, both boys missing but a note on the table for you. Since then, numbers had been exchanged and a group chat formed. Tom has taken to asking you if you want cookie dough every time he goes to the grocery store now, and their room never seems to run out of microwave popcorn. Late night sessions turned into not-so-late rants, sometimes just tiredly knocking on their door and either one of the boys opening it for you. Sleep is important, and not only for the weak.

Yet when being caught up in the wind of things, you couldn’t deny that you felt something for Tom. College was a busy time and yes, you should have fun, and yes, you should shoot your shot or whatever the Internet says these days, but the fear of rejection outweighs the possible acceptance. Things are too good with Tom and you wouldn’t want to lose that. You know that if Tom denied your feelings, you’d immediately run away and lock the door on your heart for who knows how long. You’d abandon all traditions and any paths that could cross with them, foreshadowing that if you ever did see them, the embarrassment would overtake you. At that moment, you would want nothing more than to dig a hole and stay in it for the rest of eternity.

“You’re being so dramatic,” you mutter to yourself, knees bent as you lay on a throw pillow against the arm on Tom and Harrison’s couch and flip through their Netflix. The microwave had long been fixed, and though your ears can definitely register the sound of corn kernels aggressively hitting the sides of the bag, they evidently didn’t catch Tom coming to see if you’d made a choice on a movie yet.

“Who’s being dramatic, darling?” He asks in a genuinely curious tone and you almost want to smack yourself in the head.

“Harrison,” you fib, mind scrambling for a scenario. “He’s watching the popcorn like a hawk.”

“Oi!” He yells from the corner where the microwave is. “We can’t be having burnt popcorn under this roof, not on my watch.”

You give Tom the look, the kind that says see what I mean? and it only makes Tom laugh, which makes you happy because that’s the sound that dissolves any of your worries for the day. Well, except the one where you might accidentally burst and confess your undying affection for the guy. Other than that, it’s one of the few things that can really calm you down and let you relax.

As Harrison dumps the popcorn into a bowl, Tom comes to sit next to you and your feet naturally pick themselves up to give him his space. He then pushes them back down so you can spread your legs over his to create a perpendicular model, and you try to ignore how the motion makes your heart flutter or how just his hands on your legs send heat surging through your system. It’s not fair -- no person should have such an effect over another human being. Can this be illegal? Can this not be allowed?

While thoughts are swirling in your brain, Tom can only think about how much he craves the moments like these, the ones where you’re comfortable enough to be in a position like this, the ones where you sometimes crash in his bed and he gets to see what your sleeping face is like. He prides in the fact that you seek him out on the rough days, that you see him as a source of comfort. Tom wants nothing more than to be that and more for you, just for you. It’s sappy, it’s gross, it’s cheesiest of all cheesiness, but he can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed by how enamored he is with you.

Harrison had caught on long ago on how whipped he was. “Just tell her bruv,” he pushed one time when Tom had gotten a little tipsy in their dorm. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She rejects me and never wants to see my face again,” Tom had immediately slurred back and his eyebrows had sagged into the saddest kicked-puppy look that Harrison had ever seen for the first time in a while. Of course, he rolled his eyes to let Tom know that he was being unreasonable. Clearly, you were just as smitten, but both of you were as blind as bats.

With the apprehension that neither will accept the other, both you and Tom have learned to become content with whatever is happening now. But at the end of the day, when good nights have been said and lingering hugs given, you and he both can’t help but wish for just a little more time with each other.

Just, a little more.

#tom holland #peter parker #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland scenarios #uni!au #college!au #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff

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theliberaltony · 4 years ago

Link

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to FiveThirtyEight’s politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarah (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): On Sunday, The Washington Post published leaked audio of an hour-long conversation President Trump had with Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, where he urged the Republican to “find” enough votes to overturn the result in Georgia and declare him the winner.

This story has captured headlines, as it is by far Trump’s most brazen attempt to overturn November’s results, although it is hardly his first time trying to do so. Trump has repeatedly tried to cast doubt on the election results since Biden was declared the winner on Nov. 7, citing false claims of voter fraud and launching countless futile lawsuits to try and overturn the election. And now as Congress prepares to vote on Jan. 6 to certify the election results in what should be a largely ceremonial, low-key affair, a faction of GOP senators plans to mount a protest vote, even though it is destined to fail.

There is no question that this is bad for democracy — polls have found a record number of Americans distrust the election results — but let’s talk through some of the biggest consequences of this push to delegitimize the results, in addition to whether this jeopardizes Trump’s role as the de facto party leader once he’s left the presidency.

To start, what do you view as the biggest consequence of all this?

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): I think the biggest potential danger is that in any election where the Republicans earn fewer votes, they will make unfounded and exaggerated claims of voting irregularities and fraud and try to toss out or overturn the results. No election is conducted perfectly, but using minor problems as a pretext for invalidating the outcome is a huge problem. You can’t have a democracy if one of the main parties can’t admit defeat.

I am really worried about this in the context of these Georgia Senate runoff races. If Jon Ossoff and Raphael Warnock both win their races, that would give Democrats total control of Congress. So will Republicans be able to accept losing these races if they do? Or will there be an endless stream of lawsuits trying to prevent Ossoff and Warnock from being seated?

julia_azari (Julia Azari, political science professor at Marquette University and FiveThirtyEight contributor): Biggest consequence: This splits the GOP and deepens the dilemma for Republicans (and possibly Democrats) about how to deal with the other party. Namely, can they continue to thread the needle in arguing that the other party’s constitutional and political views are illegitimate, but the processes are legitimate and thus they sometimes win? Or will the other party’s victories, as Perry suggests, not be tolerated?

I don’t want to “both sides” this — obviously, the Democrats are not the ones creating the current situation, but I think this creates potential dilemmas for them, too, regarding the way they treat the idea of legitimate opposition.

sarah: What are some of the dilemmas you think Democrats face as a result of this, Julia?

julia_azari: Well, take the debate happening over how Democrats should react to this news. There’s a question of whether the House should consider impeachment, which I’m guessing they probably won’t do. On the one hand, I’m not sure impeachment would have much public support, and there’s plenty of other issues that Congress needs to work on. But on the other hand, it does sort of leave the impression that these kinds of norm violations are sort of begrudgingly tolerated.

This will linger after Trump leaves office, too, I think. You’ll have Democrats who want to move on and not ratchet up the stakes of partisan disagreement. And you’ll have others who want to seek accountability for some of the laws that they think were broken by the last administration.

sarah: That’s a really good point, Julia. One thing we saw after the 2016 election was a big drop in the share of Democrats who thought the election was fair and accurate, but it’s nowhere near as big as the drop we’ve seen among Republicans here in 2020. That’s why what you and Perry are hitting on — how the parties handle loss and what that means for voters’ trust in democracy — is the biggest consequence of all this to me.

But maybe you all disagree? Should Democrats be digging into Trump’s behavior more for the reason Julia cited — that this behavior otherwise seems begrudgingly tolerated?

julia_azari: Well, the fact that COVID-19 continues to pose a very real challenge for the country, creates a bit of a problem for Democrats, because if they look like they’re focusing too much time on investigating the Trump administration, they look like they’re ignoring the pandemic and its consequences. But if Democrats try to take this on in a less high-profile way — subpoenaing lower-level officials, etc. — then maybe they’re accused of not being transparent enough.

The impact of this norm-breaking administration isn’t just that it violates these unwritten rules, but that it behaves in ways that make the whole system of usual practices not work. That makes things extra challenging for Democrats.

perry: Questions about what the Biden Department of Justice, congressional Democrats and state attorneys generals do about Trump’s conduct are all still very much up in the air. If there was some criminal activity, he should not be above the law. Perhaps there are some congressional hearings — and maybe even charges filed by the DOJ and/or attorneys generals — involving some Trump associates and maybe Trump himself. I don’t expect Biden to talk about Trump that much, but other actors might weigh in.

sarah: What is the end game here for Trump and Republicans? Trump admitted on the call to Raffensperger that, “I know this phone call is going nowhere.” I know we can’t speak to the president’s state of mind, but what can we point to for why refusing to concede the election has become Trump’s defining stance?

julia_azari: Well, it fits in well into this idea that “grievance politics” have turned into a somewhat successful brand — especially in a place like Georgia, where a history of racist voter suppression informs the context, and where Democratic victories are especially tied to the mobilization of Black voters.

However, I don’t see how having this kind of split within congressional Republicans is helpful to the GOP in the long term.

perry: Trump has lied and cheated in a lot of different venues in his life. That is just the truth. So him insisting that he won an election that he lost is nothing new. He likes to push and push people and see if they will uphold their ethics or bend to his will. For the Republican Party, part of this is just the trajectory they were on anyway, even without Trump at the helm. When you are writing voter laws targeting Black people with “surgical precision” (North Carolina Republicans), making it harder for felons who served their time to vote (Florida Republicans) and gerrymandering in a way that almost makes a mockery of majority rule (Wisconsin Republicans), then unfounded voter fraud charges that aim to disqualify the votes of Black people in particular are just a more aggressive step in an anti-democratic direction.

But part of this is directly tied to Trump. Elected and aspiring Republican officials know he is very connected to the party base, so aligning with Trump is aligning with the party base. So that is why you see Georgia Sen. David Perdue, in light of this phone call, attacking the secretary of state for leaking it, and not Trump for what he said.

2/ “To have a state-wide elected official, regardless of party, tape unknowing – to tape without disclosing a conversation – private conversation of the President of the United States and then leaking it to the press is disgusting,” Perdue told Fox.

— Jake Tapper (@jaketapper) January 4, 2021

julia_azari: I think the intersection of what Perry and I have said is this: “The future of the Republican Party is the division between those who say the quiet part out loud and those who don’t.”

One key difference is that Republicans used to win national majorities with the quiet part. That’s no longer the case. Per Rep. Thomas Massie, who along with six Republican colleagues authored a letter that pointed out the necessity of preserving ‘s comments on the Electoral College, the bullhorn can occasionally at least win a plurality. Matt Glassman, who studies Congress as a senior fellow at Georgetown University, on it:

The Senate vote on the objections will be lopsided—at a minimum 70-75 votes against, probably more like 80-85—and also starkly split the GOP caucus.

It may feel like the end, but this is really the beginning of the party fight over the meaning and future of Trumpism. https://t.co/8E9AW9GJul

— Matt Glassman (@MattGlassman312) January 4, 2021

sarah: If Glassman’s whip count is right, though, we’re still talking about a smallish wing of the GOP, right? In other words, it’s possible that the battle over Trumpism splinters the party, but that maybe the movement loses power?

Calling the integrity of the election results into question has clearly become a litmus test or demonstration of fealty for those in the GOP, but some senators like Ben Sasse and Mitt Romney are speaking out against it. Do you think it’s possible that Trump is ruining his ability to be the party’s leader post-presidency?

julia_azari: Well, our readers should stay tuned for my upcoming piece where I address that question!

But to give you a sneak peak: I think political scientists would frame this question as, “Can populism, on the right, be compatible with participation in a pluralistic, multi-ethnic democracy in which you sometimes lose even when you claim to truly represent the Constitution and the people?” The issue is that a wing of the Republican Party has skirted answering that question for decades now.

perry: Having covered the GOP in the era of Trump for the last six years, I will always bet on the more extreme wing of the party carrying the day. The fact that Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell would not acknowledge Biden’s win until mid-December was extraordinary. If I had told anyone that in 2015, they would have thought I was crazy.

The moderate voices in the Republican Party are not well organized, not connected to the party base and have no real compelling leaders, whereas the more extreme voices in the party have Fox News, Newsmax, One America News Network, Rush Limbaugh, Tucker Carlson and Trump. I see very little chance that the Republican Party changes its general direction, even if Trump himself recedes.

Would you bet on Sasse winning a battle over the soul of the Republican Party against anyone whose last name is Trump?

julia_azari: I would probably bet a small amount that it is possible, Perry, especially since Sasse seems like a fairly skilled politician and the Trump kids do not.

That said, I generally do not disagree, but I wonder about the sustainability of it all. I think I have some questions on what counts as “moderate” — specifically, considering the GOP, as political scientist and Bloomberg View columnist Jonathan Bernstein has been saying for quite some time, is post-policy.

perry: When I say moderate, I mean people like Romney or Sasse, who are quite conservative on policy but generally avoid white identity politics-style moves (attacking Black Lives Matter or immigration reform) and are full-throated in favor of democratic norms and values. Republicans who are moderate on policy, like Susan Collins and Larry Hogan, are basically nonexistent among top Republicans now.

sarah: That’s largely what FiveThirtyEight contributor Lee Drutman outlined in his piece on why there are so few moderate Republicans left, Perry.

Given how favorable the down-ballot results were for Republicans, however, one of my takeaways from the 2020 election was that a lot of voters rejected Trump but not necessarily the Republican Party, making it a little harder for me to understand the extent to which the GOP has lost moderate voters.

At the same time, it’s hard for me to see a Romney, Hogan or Sasse winning the 2024 Republican nomination, given the current dynamics we’re seeing play out in the GOP — a largely ceremonial, non-headline grabbing vote on certifying the results of the Electoral College, for instance, has now become this big-stakes issue. That said, I’m not sure we can know at this point the success of Trumpism moving forward. I think, for instance, Democrats will face some real tests in the next four years on whether they can keep their big umbrella coalition of both moderates and very liberal voters happy, and that might create opportunities for more middle of the road or moderate Republicans.

perry: I am not confident who will win the 2024 nomination. I have no idea. I do think in the short term, though, that Trump will remain highly influential in the GOP, as will his style of politics.

I just don’t see an easy path for the Republicans to get off that ramp.

julia_azari: This is a bit of a cop-out but I’d need to think more about the costs and benefits for various Republicans. I’m gonna hold off on 2024 predictions until I get a feel for what politics in the Biden administration looks like. And per my earlier comment about how Trumpism has changed the unwritten rules for everyone, I feel a lot more uncertain about what this will look like now once Trump is gone than I have in previous administrations.

sarah: A lot probably hinges on how the Senate runoffs shake out tomorrow, and like you’ve both said, I really don’t have a sense of how “Trumpism” plays out now. It’s unclear to me, for instance, whether Trump is doing a lot of harm … or if he’s the future of conservatism in the U.S.

But at the very least, can we agree that the lasting consequence of this might be an escalation in how the parties oppose each other when an outcome is in dispute?

I’d argue we’ve seen a ramping up of this in the last decade, but it’s largely been over more procedural things, like the Senate changing rules around judicial appointments, and making it a more partisan affair. But now we have this extreme example — contesting a free and fair election. That ups the ante, no? And it seems as if partisan infighting could get much worse.

perry: I’m not sure I’d say we’ll see an escalation in how the parties oppose each other, at least not yet. I think it’s a change on the Republican side. I don’t expect Biden, for instance, to be fighting his defeat for two months if he clearly lost by a wide electoral margin (not one state by 500 votes) in 2024.

julia_azari: I agree with that, Perry. But I think it’s possible that Democrats will start to feel pressure to both uphold norms and be “reasonable” while also responding to norm violations more forcefully.

perry: I am wary of suggesting we are seeing escalation on both sides, though, as I think we are really only seeing big escalations on the GOP side. And I worry things could get worse. If Republicans controlled the House right now, I would be really worried about this election certification issue, for example.

julia_azari: For me, it comes down to a question of sustainability, and of possible splits among Democrats on this issue. But to be clear, I don’t see any of them supporting the scenario you described, Perry. But I could start to see them play a bit more “constitutional hardball.”

sarah: Yeah, I think Julia is getting at what I meant. I definitely don’t want to “both sides” this. But I do think what Julia touched on earlier, about the mechanisms for expressing legitimate opposition being brushed aside, leaves Democrats in an awkward position, as Trump’s brand of politics has challenged how the whole system works.

julia_azari: My main point here is that the parties are not self-contained, and I don’t think the Democrats have really figured out answers to some of the questions posed by Republicans’ norm-violating behavior (which again, is a situation Democrats did not create).

perry: Julia is getting at an important and complicated question here, and one we kind of saw play out around whether Democrats should add justices to the Supreme Court given Republicans’ rush to nominate Amy Coney Barrett before the election.

Biden was clearly uncomfortable with it, but the party activists really pushed him on the issue. So what does Biden/the Democrats do about what we have seen over the last two months?

Biden, in this pre-inauguration period, is basically ignoring Trump and suggesting Republicans will work with him. And I can’t tell if he is 1) pretending, 2) clueless, or 3) Republicans will actually work with him. But Biden’s theory of the case and how other Democrats approach this issue, not to mention how the two parties interact on this, will be interesting. I truly do not know the answer to this question.

sarah: Exactly. It will be interesting to see how Biden and the Democrats work to address this — or whether Trump’s brand of politics has upended everything.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #A FiveThirtyEight Chat

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