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demisexualemmaswan · 4 years ago

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to make the season bright

Summary: Killian's been in love with his roommate, Emma, for as long as he's known her. But when she admits to him that she's lost a sentimental Christmas present, how can he prove to her that she means more to him than what would've been underneath the tree that year?

[Read on Ao3] A/N: Wow, I can't believe that this is my 6th year running for doing Captain Swan Secret Santa! And I still get someone new every year! This is a gift for @resident-of-storybrooke who has been absolutely so lovely to chat with over the last month! I hope you like your gift! Thanks to @cssecretsanta2020 for organizing this year’s event!

Shoutout to @kmomof4, @teamhook, @lonelyspectator12, @hollyethecurious and the entire CSMM discord who kept me motivated while I was writing!

Killian Jones was a neat man.

His days from the Navy—and Liam’s strict rules from his childhood—instilled that habit in him. And while he was well aware that not everyone would feel the same as he did, he was not so tested until he started living with Emma Swan.

He’d met Emma at a party. Her boyfriend at the time had gotten very aggressive after copious amounts of eggnog and tried to swing and Killian, who’d promptly flipped Walsh and broke Ruby’s coffee table. Ruby was easily persuaded to forgive once Killian had bought her a new coffee table.

At first, he was sure that Emma hated him for what had happened until a few weeks later, when she’d demanded, eyes aglow with fire and determination, that she teach him how to flip people over. She’d cited it was necessary for her job, and he hadn’t quite known what that meant until he saw her flip a skip onto his back when he tried to punch her.

Their self-defense lessons after his shift then turned into quick lunches, which turned into movies nights with just them in addition to their friend group’s movie nights. It was during a group movie night that it was revealed that despite breaking up with Walsh at the Christmas party, he was still living in the apartment because Emma couldn’t afford the rent by herself. While Emma was surprisingly prudent in her savings given her general cavalier to almost everything else in her life including what she ate and the state of her room, she was only paid as long as she could work. Any long-term injury would send her careening backwards in her savings, and letting Walsh live in the apartment was a way to offset the financial risk.

Killian, a life-long believer in good form, simply wouldn’t stand for it. Since the apartment was in Emma’s name only, Walsh had no claim to it. And surprisingly to all (or unsurprisingly) that as soon as Regina mentioned her sister was single, Walsh had no problem moving out of Emma’s apartment, allowing Killian to move in.

So here he was, 9 months later, trudging up to the apartment that he and Emma shared.

His cheeks flushed even though no one was around.

The first time he’d mentioned that he was moving in with Emma, his brother had squawked and protested that he should’ve known Killian was seeing someone. And every time Killian spoke to Liam, Liam always asked if he and Emma started dating yet. Which…they were not a couple, they were just friends. Though Killian would’ve absolutely dated Emma in a heartbeat, if given the opportunity. She was beautiful, strong, and incredibly intelligent in a way that surprised people who were just meeting her. He absolutely adored her and cherished every moment he spent with her. But with the strength of their bond also came with the vulnerabilities Emma allowed him to see. She had been betrayed, hurt, and let very few people know what was truly going on in her mind. He was honored that after such a short time, she had let him into the circle that only included a handful of people. So he didn’t push her for anything romantic, for fear that if his intentions were misperceived that she would draw her walls up again. Not that he blamed her. She’d been disappointed by so many people in her life, and it would kill him if he ever joined those numbers.

Besides, what sort of a man would force his intentions by someone with whom he cohabitated a space with? Well, Walsh would, he could hear Emma’s derisive remark in her head. Still, he began marching up the steps in their apartment complex, hoping that Emma could hear. Tonight was the night that they were exchanging gifts before he went off to his brother’s house and she went off to her brother’s house. It was a tradition that Emma valued most highly, having missed her fair share of Christmases in her youth. Emma had been passed around the foster system almost her whole life until she’d met Ruth Nolan at age 16. Well, correction: she’d met Ruth’s son David (her now brother), who had brought her home to his mother on her first day of school, and Ruth had done everything humanly possible to keep Emma with them.

Killian, having been taken in by his older brother when his brother had emancipated from their father, could sympathize with wanting spend time with family. Though he was sure that, knowing Emma, she’d been caught up in something and waited until the last possible moment to wrap his gift despite her imminent departure. He knew this because he’d walked in on her wrapping his gift on his birthday. She’d scowled when he laughed, and her cheeks had turned red with embarrassment. But it had been the perfect gift and she still had surprised him with a wonderful chocolate cake.

His heart warmed affectionately upon how she’d gone out of her way to get it from his favorite bakery, one that marked the halfway point between where he lived and his brother’s. He recalled the shy smile that tugged at the edge of her lips when she told him that she hoped he liked his cake. It was the memory of his birthday that had inspired him to go out of his way to get a particularly excellent birthday for her in October, and now an excellent Christmas present. For her birthday, he’d gotten her a pair of high heeled boots that the saleswoman assured him were comfortable, and now were Emma’s go-to piece of footwear for chasing skips.

For Christmas, he’d gotten her baby blanket repaired. She’d been left at a hospital with nothing but a knitted blanket with her name on it. It was all she had given toward any clue toward her parents. But a drunk Will had accidentally unraveled it at Halloween, and although she’d tried to hide it from their friends, Emma was absolutely distraught about the destruction of her blanket.

He was picturing the look on her face, hoping her eyes would light up with joy and he could watch her fingers reverently trace the knitwork when he arrived at the front door and was overcome with the notion that something was very wrong. The door was slightly ajar, which was unusual for their apartment. Immediately shifting into high alert, he opened the door gently. The apartment was beyond a disaster.

Things were thrown about everywhere, the window was thrust right open and one of the flowerpots was shattered on the ground. Killian began to catalog all of the damage, wondering whether or not there had been a robbery, when he heard the tiniest of sniffles. His blood ran cold, his shoulders became stiff and tight and his heart began to pick up in his chest. “Emma?” he called, trying to keep his worry at bay. As he moved through the apartment, there was a path of destruction no matter where he went. His mind kept picturing horrible scenario after horrible scenario, particularly as Emma’s sobs became louder and louder as he approached her bedroom.

“Emma?” he tried again, not hearing a response. Unable to stand it any longer, he thrust the door open. Her room had seemingly taken the worst hit; even though it was normally in a state of disarray, the destruction in her room could only be described as catastrophic. And there was Emma, in the middle of it, sobbing like the world was ending. He immediately scooped her up and placed her on the bed, frantically assessing her for injury. His Emma was a tough lass, and so for her to be crying like this meant the absolute worst of the worst.

When she seemed to realize it was him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against him. He wrapped himself around her protectively, stroking the back of her hair. “You’re all right, love,” he whispered softly. “You’re safe. I’m here…it’s all right, Emma.”

“’s not!” Emma choked out, curling up against him, her entire body heaving and shaking with the force of her cries. “It’s not all right!”

“What happened?” he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Though he was not entirely unsure that she was unharmed, there still was the state of the apartment to contend with. He was desperate to clean it, but if there needed to be a police investigation, he couldn’t touch the damn thing.

Her shaking damn near broke his heart and he held her closer, shushing her gently. “It’s okay, love, it’s okay,” he promised her again.

“It’s not!” she hiccupped. “I lost it! I can’t find it!”

His heart picked up again, wondering if she’d gone looking for her baby blanket for comfort and was unable to find it. Suddenly, he felt like the world’s biggest asshole, taking her blanket without permission. It was something she treasured and was comforted by and he had no right to take it without her permission.

He looked down at her, preparing to make a million and one apologies to her and to assure her that her baby blanket was safe and she could have it right then and there, when she added miserably, “I lost your Christmas present!”

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded. He nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all but seeing how devastated Emma was kept his tongue in check. He knew that she wouldn’t have appreciated his chuckling.

She pulled away her head hung low as she continued to cry. “You must hate me!” she declared, still not looking at him. “I know it’s Christmas and I’m so sorry…I should’ve taken better care of it…”

It was only then that he realized that she’d mistaken his shock for anger, and he gently reached for her hand. “Emma, love,” he tried to soothe softly, running his thumb across her knuckles. “It’s okay. I’m not angry…”

“You will be when you find out what it is,” she muttered, her head still hung low.

“Emma, trust me, whatever my gift was supposed to be, it cannot be worse than the scenario I’d concocted in my head when I discovered the door ajar and the apartment destroyed,” he replied, reaching for her again. Maybe there was a part of him that still needed to reassure himself that she was safe. She finally looked up at him, her head cocked to the side curiously. “I…when I saw everything in disarray and heard your cries, I…I thought we’d been robbed and you’d been hurt,” he admitted shyly, taking his gaze away from hers now.

Her emerald eyes were wide with shock and her mouth hung open a little bit, still needing to reconcile every so soften that people cared about her. Emma’s jaw slid open as she stared at him, her tears stopping almost immediately at the revelation. “You were worried about me?” she squeaked.

“Aye, of course I was,” Killian breathed, holding her close to him. “Everything had gone to pieces and the apartment was not how I left it this morning.”

Emma sighed, scrubbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I wanted to clean it up before you got home but then I couldn’t find your present and—" Her breathing picked up again and tears began pooling in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Killian murmured, cupping her cheek in his hand. His thumb gently dragged across her cheek.

“And now I’m gonna leave you with all of this cuz I’m supposed to go to David’s!” she babbled. Her body seemed to tremble viciously in his hold. It was clear she’d been on edge and frantic for a while now, only just coming down. Her hand trembled visibly in his hand, and he’d never seen Emma so emotional or terrified. She’d come home battered and bruised, he’d stayed with her overnight in the hospital, but he’d never seen her like this.

His heart seemed to stop. He knew that she held great stock in her trusty bug, but he was unable and unwilling to place her life at risk on it. She was in no position to drive.

“Love, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go to be driving in the condition you’re in,” Killian said softly. “You know David won’t hold it against you if you delay your trip another day. You’re in no state to be driving right now. It’s dark, and you need to be at your best when you get on the road.”

Emma’s lips came together in a thin tight line. “Trust me,” she said sadly. “You’re not gonna want to spend the rest of the night with me and I should go.”

Closing her eyes, she hung her head. “Liam called a few weeks ago, and said he found some of your mother’s hand sewn ornaments in the attic...he wanted to know if...if you wanted them for your birthday. I told him no, that they’d make a lovely Christmas present.” Her voice got smaller and smaller as she spoke, and a pit of dread formed in Killian’s stomach.

“I got the box and I don’t know where I put it and I’ve looked everywhere...so I’ll just...I’ll clean up and then I’ll go. You can return my Christmas present if you want to,” she finished quietly, not even daring to look at him. “And...and if you want to move out or if you want me to move out, I understand. I’ll need a few days to find a place, but...but I promise I can clear out.”

Killian took in a shaky breath. The loss hit him harder than he was willing to admit. His mother died when he was quite young, but he remembered her sitting in her rocking chair and sewing any ornament Killian or Liam asked of her. “Did...did Liam send me all of them?” he asked, unable to help the question. There was so much about Emma’s speech that he needed to address and respond to, but he couldn’t cling to the desperate hope that some of the ornaments survived.

“No,” Emma rasped, and she watched him with some trepidation. “I had to beg him to take some of them.”

Killian sighed with some relief, knowing that all wasn’t lost forever. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths. She’d made the decision to save some for Liam. She’d tried to do this nice thing for him. She was always trying to do nice things for him and she deserved the benefit of the doubt.

And if he was honest, she wasn’t particularly the best searcher. Most things she looked at with a half-hearted glance before declaring she couldn’t find them.

So he wasn’t going to let himself believe that his present was gone, until he’d helped her search every last inch of the apartment.

“Let’s clean everything up,” Killian said kindly. “And we won’t discuss anyone moving out until we know for sure it’s lost to the ages and not in a hidden, obscure spot because you were sure you’d remember it later.” He was going to tease her about how many times she’d misplaced her keys, but she’d all but tackled him to the ground before he could take another breath.

He squeezed her tightly as she tucked herself into him. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Aye, love,” he promised. “I won’t send you away.” Her whole body seemed to melt at the reassurance. He knew the need for her to hear those words stemmed from her days as a foster child, and he was more than happy to give them.

Seeing how she had clearly and thoroughly mentally lashed herself made it very hard to be angry with her. And if it had turned out that they were gone, he would mourn them like he mourned his mother. He hadn’t known her ornaments had survived after his father seemingly removed every sign of his mother from the house.

And to only know that they existed only when they seemed gone was upsetting, he wouldn’t lie.

But it certainly wasn’t a friendship ending event in his eyes. He would need some space to mourn, but he wouldn’t banish her from her home.

And she needed some tender care at the moment too. It was more than clear that she had done everything in her power to try and relocate them.

He scooped her up in his arms and gently carried her to the couch, which had mercifully been spared. “What—?” she started, pushing herself back up.

His heart seemingly broke again, looking back at her. The circles under her eyes seemed so dark. Her eyes were red and red-rimmed. What kind of awful, imaginary scenarios had she conjured for herself while he’d been thinking the worst?

They were so similar, both scarred by their pasts in different ways.

“I wasn’t joking about you recuperating, Emma,” he said softly. “So I’m gonna make you some cocoa. And when your nerves have settled, you can join me in the cleaning of the apartment.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Emma complained, throwing herself dramatically against the couch. “I lost priceless family heirlooms and destroyed the entire apartment…”

“I think you’ve already beat yourself up enough for it, love,” Killian murmured, trying to imbue every ounce of sincerity into his words. He knelt beside her, hoping he was being reassuring. “And while I won’t lie to you: I’ll be devastated if it well and truly is lost, you shouldn’t feel like you have to continue to beat yourself up.”

Emma frowned as she looked at him. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but then closed it. She seemed to slump into the couch, all the fight drained out of her body.

He went into the kitchen to give her some space. In addition to her cocoa, he decided to get some Christmas cookies from his hidden cookie stash. Killian tried not to listen as she declared to her brother and she was the worst person alive and she had no idea how Killian was going to forgive her or how she could even think about enjoying Christmas if she lost his gift.

Emma treasured sentimental things. He knew this about her. But he hoped that he would not forsake her favorite holiday for his sake.

He’d survive without the ornaments. Truly.

But he hoped to god that they found them. As each moment passed, he was becoming more painfully aware that his friendship with Emma may not survive this event. But not from his side.

She would probably keep herself at a distance and put her walls up out of sheer guilt.

He couldn’t stand to be behind those walls again.

He couldn’t stand her not knowing just how important she was to him.

Knowing how sentimental she was, he figured he had one last move in trying to prove her importance in his life. Breathing deeply, he rushed to his room. His bedroom was still immaculate, and so he was able to quickly duck under his bed.

The gift was still neatly wrapped, the bow skillfully placed on top. He smiled softly at the box before heading back out into the living room.

She’d wrapped a blanket around herself and she was curled up on her side.

She’d never looked more beautiful to him.

Killian gently walked toward her, and she tilted her head up at him questioningly. She blinked owlishly at him for a moment, blurting out, “That’s not my hot cocoa.”

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing in spite of himself. “No, it’s not,” he chuckled, putting the box on the table in front of her.

“But why?” Emma protested, her shoulders coming up around her ears. A guarded and caged look entered her eyes.

“Because I need you to know just how important you are to me, Emma. More important than any ornament ever could be.”

“But they were your mother’s,” Emma protested softly. Her voice caught as she added, “I’d kill to have something of my mom’s. All I have is a torn baby blanket.”

“Open your present, love,” Killian insisted softly.

Delicately, she undid his careful wrapping and made sure to save the bow. “It’s a box,” she said, looking up at him, not making a move to open it any further.

“Your gift is inside the box,” he teased.

Her hands stayed firmly folded in her lap. “Killian, I can’t accept this. Especially after what I did. I ruined your Christmas.”

“Love, don’t you know that you’re all I need for Christmas?” The words well and truly flew out of Killian’s mouth before he could stop them. Her head jerked up abruptly and her eyes were wide with shock. He was almost positive that his jaw was hanging open too. But he continued, “Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you. You here and happy is all I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted.” Killian scratched nervously behind his ear. “Perhaps some day as more than friends. But even if you never felt that way about me, it would still be all I’ve ever wanted.”

He could see the desperate flicker of hope enter her eyes, and he could practically see the thoughts chasing themselves across her face. He could say all those kind things to her, even when she had done what she considered to be an irredeemable act.

Because he truly cared for her.

And so he said the one thing he knew he could to confirm Emma’s hope.

“I love you, Emma.”

Before he could blink, his arms were full of her yet again and her mouth cautiously slid against his. He tightened his arm around her before returning her kiss, all but melting with relief that she not only believed in the strength of his feelings but seemed to return them as well.

When they broke apart, she rested his forehead against his. Very quietly, she asked against his lips, “You love me even though I didn’t get you a Christmas present?”

“I’d say you just did, love,” he hummed, chasing her lips again. She pulled away, levelling him with a look that told him that she genuinely did need the reassurance even though the corners of her mouth were twitching as if to fight back a smile. “Aye, love,” he promised. “They’re just ornaments.”

“I’ll make you new ones,” she promised, resting her hand on his chest. “They’ll be ugly and misshapen, but I’ll—” He silenced her again with a soft and gentle kiss, and Killian let out a sigh of relief when Emma seemed to melt against him. When they broke apart again, Emma’s head rest against his shoulder and he swayed with her gently in the kitchen.

“How long have you been hiding my present from me?” she asked, still staring at the box on the coffee table. “And where? I go into your room like all the time, I can’t believe I didn’t find it!”

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Why, I put it in the one place I know you don’t look: under the bed.”

Emma gasped and jerked her head up so quickly that he would’ve had a broken nose if not for his quick reflexes. “I know where the box with the ornaments is!” she cried joyously, tearing herself from his arms. He followed her back to her room, where she was more than halfway under her bed, pushing things out. “I hid it behind a ton of other stuff in case you ever went looking under my bed!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled.

“Why would I go looking underneath your bed, love?” Killian asked, unable to hold back his laughter this time.

“Because hiding anything from you is a full-time job,” Emma retorted happily, wiggling out from under the bed. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes covered in dust, but her eyes gleamed with unadulterated exuberance as she held a small white box on her hand. Liam’s handwriting on the shipping label only confirmed that these were indeed the box of ornaments.

She all but sprung up and thrust the box into his hand. “Open it!” she demanded excitedly. The grin on her face was infectious, and she was every bit of the “kid on Christmas morning” picture, even though she was a fully grown adult.

Looking at Liam’s handwriting and knowing that he was only some clear tape away from being connected with a piece of his mother made his eyes water. Emma’s hand was quick to brush away any tears before they fell, and he dipped his cheek to kiss her palm. “Thank you,” he rasped, his voice too choked with emotion to be any louder. “Really, Emma. This is…”

“Don’t you know that I love you too?” she asked as if it was all the explanation he could’ve ever needed.

“Aye, I do,” he replied, and gingerly opened the box. There were some familiar ornaments that he’d seen in pictures: a kite from her grandmother that dated back to 1895, a pig, a basket, and angel, each one with a hand-embroidered date on it. But the one that caught was one he was not familiar with. The date on the back said 1990, which would’ve been his first Christmas. Gingerly flipping it over, a beautiful swan stared up back at him and he found his eyes watering again.

“Did you know?” was all he could spit out.

“No,” she replied, her voice equally choked up. She gingerly rested her head against his shoulder as she looked into the box of ornaments with him. “But it seems your mom did.”

“Aye…” he chuckled wetly. “So she did.”

“Can we put them on the tree?” Emma asked hopefully, looking up at him. Unable to help himself, he leaned down to kiss her again, pouring his love and thanks into the gentle kiss.

“We should,” he agreed against her lips. “And we will. But only after you open your present.”

Emma rolled her eyes playfully and all but dragged him back to the living room with her. He watched as she opened the box and then immediately shut it again. “Is that…?” she asked.

“Aye, love,” he promised. “It is.” With the most care and reverence he’d ever seen her take with anything, she gently took her repaired baby blanket out of the box. Her fingers gently trailed over the stitching, the letters of her name, all of it, as if to try to prove to herself it was real.

He would never forget the loving and content look on her face for as long as he lived.

It was probably what motivated to get her another box one year later.

Only that one had a ring in it.

And two years later?

She gave him a box with a onesie inside that said “I was Daddy’s Christmas present”.

#csss20 #captain swan secret santa 2020 #resident-of-storybrooke #blaire's writing #captain swain fic

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cosmiceverafter · 4 years ago

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Ch. 2 - Three’s Company

Summary: Isobel's plan is to play matchmaker. Too bad the two she's trying to bring back together, are now playing with her love life instead.

A/N: This is the second chapter of my fic Legend. It’s a post-canon fic. Also, I bet you're not the least bit surprised Malex made it into this fic, because I'm not. I'm looking forward to writing their story in the background through other's POV, while Isobel finds her way to love. Here’s hoping they all find their way to their soulmates.

Read the entire fic on ao3

*** “Stop laughing, Michael."

"No, no, it's great, really," Michael snorted as he sipped his beer. "So...when did it all start?" Isobel rolled her eyes at her alien sib and sighed, "Back in high school."

That only made Michael chuckle more. "Oh, yes, those high school loves."

"You'd know a thing or two about falling for a Manes man in high school, wouldn't you?"

That shut him up.

Michael sighed with a somber look, "You're right. What is it about them? It's like they put a spell on us or something."

"I suppose so," she nodded and took a sip of her wine. "We're the aliens; we're supposed to be the charmers."

Michael wiggled his eyebrows, up-and-down, "Who says we're not?"

"Well, why don't you go test it on that human over there then?"

He turned to look where she was pointing, right at Alex Manes.

Turning away and taking a big sip of his drink, he shook his head. "Nah, Alex is dating someone else."

"Right now."

Michael looked up at her and gave her one of his famous exasperated expressions. "Right now," he repeated in a monotone manner. "I'm going to respect that."

"Very gallant of you, dear brother, let's test out your noble notions...shall we?"

"Wait. What?"

Isobel looked towards Alex, "Hey Alex! Over here."

Alex looked over and waved with a smile. She motioned for him to come over, and he put a finger up as he ordered a drink first.

"What the hell are you doin', Iz?" Michael growled, trying to hush her up. He should know better by now. Making her move on Gregory wasn't the only thing to do on her check-list; the other was getting these two cosmic love-sick puppies back together. If she had to pull in Valenti for support, she would.

"It's about time you two work on the foundation of your friendship, and I'm going to help you both." While Michael shook his head, Alex made his way over, with a small noticeable limp. "Well, hello there, Alex!"

"Hi guys," Alex replied with a grin. He looked over at Michael, and of course, Isobel noticed how their eyes lingered on each other. Perfect. It was already in the bag.

"Won't you join us?"

"He probably has plans already, Isobel," Michael said, raising an eyebrow.

Alex shrugged, "Actually not till later. I was just coming by to grab a drink while I write."

"Ooo! More lyrics?" Isobel replied with a clap, moving over so Alex could squeeze next to her in the tiny booth.

"Yup," Alex said as he sat down. "Guess I'm feeling inspired ever since I did mic night."

Shoot. The elephant in the room. Michael had left after seeing Forrest, and Isobel knew it caused him great pain. After that night, Michael had told her he had regretted walking away, but he wanted a fresh start. In the weeks that followed, he was trying to heal and better himself. She was proud of Michael. But she understood having a fresh start with someone. It just hurt her to see her Michael in so much pain. Something all the aliens excelled with having.

But maybe she could do some damage control along the way. "That's wonderful. You were amazing by the way," she said. Isobel pointed to Michael, "We both thought so."

"And here I thought you didn't like it," Alex replied with a sheepish grin. She noticed he was looking right at Michael.

"It was great, Alex, really," Michael took another big chug of his drink, "We, uh, unfortunately, couldn't stay long. Had to help Max with something."

This wasn't a lie, but internally, Isobel groaned but nodded on the outside, attempting to have Michael's back.

Step 1: Get these two to communicate.

Alex's eyes widened, and Isobel knew he didn't buy it. But Alex was too lovely to dispute it right then, "Ah. Gotcha."

Michael stood up, obviously wanting to escape the awkwardness, "I'm going to go get another drink. Do either of you want anything?"

"Another red, please," Isobel replied, pointing to her empty wine glass. Alex shook his head.

As Michael walked away, Isobel touched Alex's arm slightly, "He did love the song, Alex. I promise."

"Thanks for the reassurance," Alex said, taking a sip of his drink. "I can never tell with him." He laughed without humor, "There was a time I thought I knew him better than I knew myself." Alex shook his head, "Funny how things turn out, huh?"

She thought about her life for a moment and nodded, "I'll say." Isobel patted him on the back, "Just give him some time."

"I've got all the time in the world."

Isobel nodded, wishing they both could work it out now. She had such hope for them. "How are you with everything else? Your dad...."

"Um," Alex cleared his throat, "honestly, it's weird, the entire situation. Just going through the motions, I guess. At first, it was almost a relief, but now it just feels off. I feel angry...."

"That he's gone?"

"No," Alex said, shaking his head, "that people never got to see the real Jesse Manes. He went out a hero, and that's not right. Not after all the shit that he's done. What he did to Michael. Caulfield. All of it."

"It's frustrating," she agreed. "In a way, I know how you feel."

"Really?" He looked at her with a soft expression, one he excelled at making.

She nodded, "Noah." Isobel shuddered at the memory, and Alex, bless his heart, grabbed her hand softly. "Everyone thought he was such a gift when he was anything but that. He was a monster, who manipulated me from when I was a child, as you know. But the world will never know what he was."

"Exactly," Alex murmured. "That's exactly it."

Isobel smiled gently, "At least we're not alone in this." She nudged his shoulder, and he smiled, nudging her back.

For the first time, she felt genuinely connected to Alex Manes. His amazing heart was comforting to be around; she understood why Michael loved him in the way he did. Isobel was going to start hanging around the guy more often.

As they sat there, a nagging thought wanted to surface so severely that she just went ahead and asked it, "Um, how's Gregory doing with it?" The guy, after all, had been the one who pulled the trigger.

"Greg is...dealing with it. But honestly, I don't think he regrets it." Alex looked over towards Michael as the alien was making his way back over, drinks in hand. "He was saving our lives."

"It was very heroic," Isobel agreed, her chest warming from the thought of it.

"What's heroic?" Michael asked as he set the drinks down and hurried back into the booth.

"We were just talking about Greg and how he defended us against my old man—once and for all."

After Michael observed Alex's expression, he made the conversation lighter in only a way he could. "Remind me to send that fruit basket to him."

They all laughed and gave cheers with their glasses.

"Speaking of Gregory," Michael added with a mischievous grin, "next time you should invite him out with us, Alex."

Isobel's head shot up, and she gave a warning glance to Michael, who winked back mouthing payback.

"Oh yea, sure, why not?" Alex said with a nod. "I'm sure he'd enjoy that."

"I know Isobel would."

Isobel kicked Michael under the table, who then grunted, but Alex made a curious expression and looked over at her, "Are you and Gregory close?"

"Well—"

"She wants to be," Michael laughed, running a hand through his curls.

"Michael, you can shut up at any time," Isobel retorted. Usually, she didn't feel embarrassed, but it was Gregory Manes, after all. He wasn't just someone; he was that something special that got away.

A small grin formed on Alex's face as the wheels starting turning, "Interesting... Okay, well, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. That's for sure."

"Let's not make it a big deal or anything," Isobel scoffed, as she waved a hand through the air. "He's just a nice guy, and coming from this town, it's hard to find one of those. For example, look at this one," She pointed towards Michael, and Alex laughed, clearly understanding what she meant.

"Oh, you know you love me, Iz," Michael innocently said as he batted his eyes, reaching for her hand.

She moved it away and shook her head.

"Listen, don't be embarrassed!" Alex interrupted, "As I said, it wouldn't be the worst thing, because I know that Greg would also enjoy your company."

Isobel looked at him, calmly, "And why might you say that?"

Alex shrugged casually and took a sip from his drink, "I don't know, maybe because you were all he talked about in high school." Isobel's eyes went wide, and Michael's mouth fell open playfully. "Oh, and he might've gotten a bit excited on the phone when I told him that Isobel Evans was joining us at the reservation that day."

"Wow," Isobel said as her cheeks grew hot, "I'm not sure what to say."

"I think you do know what to say," Michael answered, tapping her phone. "It's been a long time coming."

"Here, let me give you his number," Alex added with a wink. "What's the worst that could happen?"

How was it that these two were somehow now helping with her love life? She was supposed to be helping them.

As she looked down at her phone, Isobel didn't want to think of all the ways this could blow up in her face, but instead, all the possibilities it could present.

#belmanes #belmanes fic #gregory x isobel #malex #malex fic #isobel evans #michael guerin #alex manes #finding their way back to each other while helping isobel find loove #roswell new mexico #mention of forlex #alex is dating him...probably not for long #mention of jesse manes #tw: mention of death

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snkpolls · 5 years ago

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SnK Chapter 125 Poll Results

The chapter 125 poll closed with 1,469 responses. Thank you for your support! This month’s poll results were compiled by /u/alooulla, /u/_Puppet_, @shifter-lines and @momtaku.

RATE THE CHAPTER 1,387 RESPONSES

While still overwhelmingly positive, and slightly improved over Chapter 124, the “wow” factor still wasn’t there for many. Those selecting a perfect five was less than half of respondents (49.3%).

Transitions were unbelievably good, hardly noticed we were at 5 different scenes this chapter.

Not really hype like some chapters have been, but it was wonderful to see all the character and story development.

Created a number of different plot threads, but was not as satisfying as recent chapters

Everyone in this chapter (except Flock) deserves love

Good chapter, juggles lots of POVs excellently and opens up multiple opportunities for where the story may go. I love how desperate everything is.

Beats gonna drop soon

Jean honey if you push Floch out the hole in the wall everyone will swear it was an accident

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR FAVORITE MOMENT? 1,421 RESPONSES

They only appeared on two pages, but “Levi and Hange are back” was the top pick out of a long list of options with nearly one-third (27.7%) selecting them. “Armin and Mikasa’s argument” secured second (14.3%) and “Annie and Hitch together” (12.6%) round out the top three.

LEVI AND HANGE ARE BACK! OMG!!!

I loved Annie's backstory, the conversation between Floch and Jean, the talk between AM, Shadis, mr Leonhart, literally everything.

I loved hearing Annie and Hitch talk, and the Levi and Hange situation finally got addressed :)

I'm so happy to see Levi and Hange, and so happy that they've run into Pieck and Magath. I hope they can reach some kind of truce and work together.

Floch is the Queen of Paradis confirmed.

Shadis once again made this chapter for me. What a great, deep speech. He is a true hero.♡

WHO WAS THIS CHAPTER'S MVP? 1,416 RESPONSES

While denied the favorite moment, Annie was the favorite for chapter MVP with more than one-quarter of respondent (26.6%). Hitch, the other half of the girl power duo, made a strong showing (19.6%) for number two. Most shocking perhaps is that Hange (13.6%) squeaked out a narrow victory over Floch (12.6%) for third.

Annie is the best girl

Floch did nothing wrong

Hitch nipping at Historia's best girl-crown

HAAAAAAAAANGE

ANNIEEEEE A AAAAA AA A AA A A A A A A MY GIRL

Floch is such a crazy piece of shit, I love him, he's a great villain and I'm glad that Isayama added a character like that to the story. Also, funny with how he represents the rabid Eren stans, parroting the bs they keep saying ("we're free now reeeeeee").

S H A D I S T H E C H A D I S

Hange my queen how the hell did you save Levi, I wanna know!!

Hitch yeeting Annie made me scream, I love them together so much.

My babes Shadis and Magath are BACK!! 😍

So happy to see Hitch back. She is such a fun character and so underrated!

THE CHAPTER OPENS WITH RESIDENTS OF STOHESS REACTING BOTH POSITIVELY AND NEGATIVELY TO EREN’S ACTIONS. WHICH EXPRESSION OF THE CROWD ARE YOU MOST SYMPATHETIC TOWARDS? 1,416 RESPONSES

The citizens of the walls are as divided as the fanbase over Eren’s actions. 36.7% are on the side that says the Eldians on the island would all be dead without Eren, while 34% respond with the fact that he’s responsible for many of their deaths himself. 25.1% don’t want to side with either faction.

“You can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs”

Both are right and wrong at the same time…

Both sides are ignorant as to what is actually happening so it is difficult to gauge who actually feels what they do considering their limited knowledge but I'm edging towards the justification of it.

Eren has planned this all along, he knows there will be no true peace by doing the rumbling and has some kind of third goal

Even if the first expression is true (and no one can say if it is or not for sure) it doesn't make the belligerents right, or mean that Eren shouldn't be held accountable for his actions

Both sides are justified. Both sides reacted according to their personal views in response to an outside force they had no control of.

I sympathize with both. One on hand, it seems as though the wall titans were the only effective retaliation the island had left, but on the other hand, Eren did kill many of his own people and aiming to wipe out the rest of the world is definitely pretty extreme for even Eren. That's why I think there's still a HUGE part of his plan that we haven't been made aware of yet.

There's no real right answer here. Obviously genocide is bad and no one can deny the fact that Eren killed his own people but, what other options were available in the limited time they had?

Whatever your thoughts on The Rumbling, Eren is being extremely reckless and it's going to backfire like crazy. Member when Erwin pulled off an almost-bloodless coup? I have a feeling Ereh is too preoccupied with thoughts of PATHS and FREEDOM to really consider the consequences of stuff like civilian casualties or letting a fascist cult take over the government.

What the tic tac patty wack snick snack quarterback big mac heart attack race track double back guy named jack did he just do?

Sasageyo

ANNIE BACKSTORY! WHAT DID YOU THINK? 1,420 RESPONSES

Annie’s finally back! And she sure got a lot of page time, finally getting her chance to speak her story. The majority thought seems to be that it was okay, at 60.3%, whereas 33.2% absolutely loved it, and 6.5% thought it was a waste of time.

Develops her character a bit but otherwise not too important

we got an entire Annie backstory and it answered NONE of my questions about the crystal. If its purpose was just to protect her like the Warhammer's crystal, and she was semi-conscious -- why couldn't she escape it on her own? Is there something unique about the Female Titan? Was it a chrysalis? Has she undergone a metamorphosis?

I'm just glad Annie's back

I really liked it and especially the Annie focus although I expected more from her justifications.

Don't care for her this late in the story tbh it's just a waste of pages

this chapter confirmed that Annie is the best character of SNK !

It was pretty much exactly what I expected, fairly boring and didn’t change my perception of her character at all

This puts so much context on the murders she committed back in the female titan arc and her personality in general. This is so great! Waited forever for this

I especially liked learning Annie's entire backstory, and her interactions with Hitch in this chapter were great.

Lil' Orphan Annie deserves more spinoffs. We need one about her awkward preteen years trying to fit in with the popular girls while continuously kicking them in half by accident.

MY GIRL ANNIE DESERVES MORE.

AFTER CONSIDERING HER STORY, WHICH THOUGHT MOST CLOSELY MATCHES YOUR OWN? 1,410 RESPONSES

There sure was a lot to consider in all Annie said, and the two primary thoughts seem to be a feeling of tragedy that she never felt that anything mattered, and a hope that she’ll see her father again, at 23.7% and 22.6% respectively.

Can't forget what she has caused, but glad she found meaning in life.

I hope she can find peace

I understand her reasoning, but her saying she'd do it all again hurt a lot.

Interesting plot point, but was it really necessary? Kinda felt like forced drama to add this "adoptive child" thing.

Is it wrong to wish for her happiness?

It may mirror Eren's motives. To her, nothing else matters except returning to her father, not even other people's lives. If Eren is intent on protecting his friends, then other lives wouldnt even matter.

It's interesting how seems similar she is to Reiner but how different they actually are. Annie is nihilistic and realistic because the lack of love, Reiner is idealistic and longing for love in a tragic way because he fantasize the love which doesn't exist

Annie has always been, in my opinion at least, one of the most honest characters, and I'm glad we can see that her core hasn't changed (but I’m so happy we can hear her talk and that we are finally getting some character development). Unlike Reiner and Bertolt, Annie never pretended to be friends with the Shinganshina trio, she never acted more nicely than she felt she should. She kept to herself and did what she knew she had to do. But this does not make Annie cold or resilient to atrocities; when she was manipulated by Reiner to take off Marco’s 3D maneuver gear, we can see she doesn’t do it easily and she does show remorse, in spite of everything. All of the SnK characters are tragic, some more than others, and for me, Annie is probably one of the most tragic ones. Adopted, trained to become a killing machine, completely alone with no one to really rely on once she joined the army, Annie goes towards her goal, stripping every bit of romanticism from the notions of peace, good vs bad governments, Marley, Eldia, humanity, etc. Annie does not fight, or pretend to fight, for the greater good; as perceptive as always, she sees the situation for what it is, just like she sees people for who they really are. I hope this brave young woman gets a happy ending with her dad.

DO YOU FIND IT REASONABLE THAT ANNIE HAS BEEN SEMI-CONSCIOUS IN THE CRYSTAL ALL THIS TIME 1,411 RESPONSES

Hitch sure was surprised that Annie had actually been listening to her all that time, but the fandom wasn’t. 86.3% found it reasonable, but 10.7% still aren’t convinced it makes sense.

Considering we had Ms. Tyber being aware of her surroundings in her own crystal, looking back on that it's like "oh yeah that seems legit". Granted I'm sure Ms. Tyber had practiced the technic to use it in battle proficiently. But it doesn't seem too out there for Annie to be at least semi-conscious

Honestly no. But this story has people transforming into giant monsters so I can't really complain.

I find hard to believe she is not crazy. Being unable to move in darkness for 4 years with only voices to keep her company is pretty brutal.

I'm wondering how her body condition is near to normal.

It reminds me of ymir being a mindless titan for 60 years

Wall titans also seemed to be semi conscious if I remember the original scene with eye movement and fear of light energizing them.

P A T H S

ANNIE WAS COVERED WITH SOME SORT OF FLUID THAT DOESN’T SEEM TO BE EVAPORATING. WHAT DO YOU THINK IT IS? 1,408 RESPONSES

We ended last chapter on Annie in a pool of this liquid, and this time we see Hitch follow it to where Annie is. But… what is it? 66.2% think it has something to do with the crystal’s hardening, 15.2% DO NOT want that knowledge, and 11.6% think it’s a human bodily fluid.

A fluid to keep her alive (something like the lcl in evangelion)

Amniotic fluid is the warm, fluid cushion that protects and supports your baby as they grow in the womb.

a liquid that makes her body hibernate so she can stay alive

I think it's a weakened form of the hardening. Perhaps it was also this fluid around the creature in the well from Ymir's backstory.

If I recall correctly, some crystals do have water in the form of “hydrates” so in theory, the fluid in Annie’s crystal is what kept her alive by supplying nutrients and and water to her body. Because of this, the fluid may have possibly come from Annie’s Titan as it formed the crystal around her.

amniotic fluid - some unique property of the Female Titan

Tears of readers who waited too fucking long for Annie to break through

Armin juice

WHERE DO YOU THINK HITCH AND ANNIE ARE HEADING? 1,408 RESPONSES

So many groups in so many places! Where is this one going to end up? A little over half, at 55.9% think they’ll run into another group before they get to a specific destination, about a quarter at 23.4% think Shiganshina, and 19.2% think the port.

Following the Colossal Titans

Honestly it was very reckless of hitch to let Annie go. If she causes more trouble for Paradis then what will she do

Based on them leaving Stohess in the same direction as the colossal titans it is likely they will pass through Trost. They will continue south towards Shiganshina and maybe the port but on the way they will likely run into Hange, Levi, Pieck and Magath, or Connie, Falco, Armin and Gabi.

Kiyomi's plane

Marley, to Annie’s father

To Historia

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE STATE OF THE ELDIANS IN LIBERIO? 1,399 RESPONSES

We jump across the ocean, only to find Mr. Leonhart starting a rebellion in Liberio! About half feel there’s going to be an absolute bloodbath, 32% are glad they’re finally rising up, 11% are focused on Mr. Leonhart being a badass, and 6.1% are scratching their heads as to how this is relevant.

I feel it's setting up for eldians in all internment zones rising up, although i don't know what significance that would hold if they're gonna be flattened like pancakes anyway

I'm actually glad because while I have still and always despised the Warriors, Annie's dad felt relatable to me, good to see non-powered, regular citizens rise up against the enemy

Isayama stop trying to be clever with names is there a single part of this series you haven't put thought into?

It is rather unsettling to see since it all seems to head towards a massacre although the reactions of the Eldians are understandable and sound.

It makes sense why they'd rise up: they know what's coming, and they just want to get to safety. After all, they should be spared from the Rumbling because of their race. As expected of the Marleyans though, they won't listen to the Liberio Eldians' current plea, and it will surely cost them (the Marleyans).

The Marleyans are comically dumb it's not even funny; I mean why would they orchestrate a revolt now

This was Eren's plan all along, he wants Eldians everywhere to rebel under the threat of the wall titans.

Why should we care about what happens to anyone outside the Walls? This scene was totally unnecessary.

Worldwide Eldian Rebellion I am excited

I'm worried about them! :(

WILL MR. LEONHART SURVIVED THE SCUFFLE WITH THE GATE GUARD? 1,408 RESPONSES

A somewhat interesting split here; though most responders think there’s more to come with Annie’s father and being killed by the gate guard wouldn’t be the right way for him to go, especially with unfinished business with his daughter. The next highest response was ‘I am not sure’ followed by ‘No he won’t survive’ with a still respectable 24.7% of the vote. One to keep an eye on, here.

Weird that she wants to return home so much just because her dad was nice to her for a few minutes (he's been torturing her all her life).

It had some very much needed character development for A LOT of characters. I can't wait to see how certain plot points like Connie's mom and Annie's wish to see her dad will be resolved.

I saw some parallels between Mr. Leonhard vs. the guards and volunteers vs. Floch. Anarchy reigns; power struggles everywhere, yay! I want to see Mr. Leonhart leading a rebellion. I want to see Eldians all over the globe rising up and busting out of internment zones. Also - we got an entire Annie backstory and it answered NONE of my questions about the crystal. If its purpose was just to protect her like the Warhammer's crystal, and she was semi-conscious -- why couldn't she escape it on her own? Is there something unique about the Female Titan? Was it a chrysalis? Has she undergone a metamorphosis? Will it even matter if Ymir is freed from her sand slavery and refuses to transform any more titans? Still -- it's interesting that Annie was adopted, and I have to wonder if her lineage is important. Final thought: I'm growing tired of Isayama sidelining people by having them unconscious/uncommunicative. I get why he may want to render some characters unable to affect the plot at certain points but 'unconscious' is his go-to and I'm losing patience with it. Okay, Historia got stuck with 'pregnant' but I lost patience with that ages ago. Wake up already, Reiner. Say something, Levi. At least Falco's awake again. And Annie, for the love of Eldia, please explain your crystal.

Speaking of Mr. Leonhart, he may be crippled and defeseless against the Marleyan guards, but at least he wasn't swayed by fatalism against his current government unlike Jean/Armin.

WHAT DID YOU THINK OF KEITH’S ADVICE TO THE TRAINING CORPS MEMBERS? 1,394 RESPONSES

Instructor Shadis is still instructing, and 46.1% of you are still chanting SHADIS THE CHADIS. 23.5% loved his advice, 16.5% enjoyed the callback to being a bystander, and 12.1% wish he’d encouraged them to rise up.

Foreshadowing that they‘ll overthrow Eren and Floche.

He gives up too easily. I don't like this.

I'm glad he told them not to fight the Yeagerists but for the wrong reasons

Shadis doesn't want them to risk their lives, understandable, but giving Floch&Co time to gain even more power is not a good idea.

He's being smart and cautious because they've had enough losses for now

By far the best piece of advice he could have given them. Not is it only the most reasonable thing to do in the current situation, but it also goes to show how much Shadis values life and how well, thanks to his experience, he can see what the future might bring. When he thought fighting was a viable option, he wanted the trainees and soldiers alike to dedicate their hearts (and he dedicated his own as well), but now when he sees that they’re clearly getting overpowered and that any form of resistance would inevitably lead to death, he advises them to stay put, but not lose sight of themselves. That’s what a good leader/ elder/ parent does. Despite the fact that he failed as commander and that he was usually the only one to come back from his missions outside the walls, he shows that he has learned a lot and can strategize and draw the right moves. And it even reminded me of Levi, this desire to not waste lives. And Shadis is special, I just wish he’d realize that along with many others. Unfortunately, a very underrated character.

I am hyped to see these characters actually amount to something because of chadis!

A giant death flag.

WAS ARMIN IN THE RIGHT TO RAISE HIS VOICE AT MIKASA? 1,402 RESPONSES

Armin has returned to being shell-shocked like he was in Shiganshina, and he took it out on Mikasa, but was he justified? Just over half don’t think he was justified, but don’t blame him for snapping. 23.9% believe it was the right choice to try to make her more independent. The last two options are tied at 10.3%, saying he was completely in the wrong, and the other saying he was justified in that Mikasa needs to focus on more than Eren.

Armin has been the one others rely for guidance, however at this point he seems stressed and probably over thinking (when he refers back to Erwin).

Armin just reached his breaking point. So much has happened in one day, and he needed to rant.

Asking ANYONE to stop thinking about Eren right now is pointless, let alone Mikasa. He was wrong, but stressed out.

Both. She needs to be encouraged to make her own decisions, but he didn't need to be mean about it. She has always been nice to him.

Feel like many are misunderstanding mikasa's comment about eren. He is the biggest concern so why shouldn't she mention him? Personally I don't think she was still in eren obsessed mode.

That's a complex question. Everyone is stressed right now, especially Armin, feeling guilty for being brought back and feels so much weight on his shoulder to be a leader so to say. So it reasonable for him to yell and it might spark something in Mikasa as well.

Armin needs a nap, a warm bath, and a foot rub.

WILL MIKASA START ‘THINKING FOR HERSELF’ NOW, AS ARMIN SUGGESTED? 1,395 RESPONSES

Mikasa’s character development is being pushed to its tipping point now, will Armin’s words make her start thinking for herself? The majority, at 56.3% think that leadership isn’t her style, but she’ll step up and support what she feels is right. 18.6% feel that she’s already made the step into thinking for herself, and the last two options are split at 11.3% between a full ‘yes she’ll finally step up’, and a full ‘she’s always thought for herself.’

Armin: think for yourself! Mikasa: Where is my scarf?

Hopefully, I want to see more independence. Assertive and confident in her actions.

I don't know if she'll able to think for herself. maybe she will do something, but I guess whatever she will do on her own, I don't want to expect much from her. Anyway I have the feeling that Mikasa's own decision could be that she accepts Kiyomi's offer and leaves Paradis because the whole situation is obviously killing her.

I hope Isayama has something special planned for Mikasa's development

Mikasa has always thought for herself. She’s never been a leader, but she’s always followed her own hearts desires. Nobody knows what to do and for once it was actually reasonable for her to ask about eren, given what he’s about to do to the world.

Mikasa isn't wrong to look to Armin for leadership, but when she brings up the elephant in the room, he flies off the handle at her. But ultimately, I think that Armin is right. She'll have to make decisions based off her own judgement and I'm excited for it.

I kinda doubt that. She went to Jean, because Armin told her so and I don't think that she would do anything in the situation between Jean, Floch and the Volunteers. If she would be able someday to make her own decision, I'll think that could be to do with Kiyomi's offer to go on one of her ships, but we will see.

I think she will be an impromptu leader, similarly to what she did at Trost after eren got eaten by the santa titan

Mikasa did nothing wrong, she tried to take advice instead to run somewhere else like Connie or give up like Jean.

Yes she’ll become more independent. I think itll lead to “see u later eren”

AT THIS POINT, ARMIN STILL THINKS ERWIN WAS A BETTER CHOICE TO REVIVE. DO YOU? 1,391 RESPONSES

The question of whether Armin or Erwin should have been revived in Shiganshina proves to be one of the most contentious issues in the series, nearly on par with when we asked you guys what you think of Eren’s (stated) plan. 52.2% of you are Team Erwin, and 47.8% are Team Armin. Regrettably, I can’t make a good joke out of either of those numbers.

I've said it before, but I think Armin was the best person to revive from a story telling point of view. Erwin was the better leader, no doubts there, but it is the lack of him that has pushed all these other characters to develop more. I believe the relationships between characters and the characters themselves would've remained more static if he had still been there. So therefore, Armin was the right choice

Erwin wouldn't have let any of this happen

WHO TOOK THE SCARF? 1,403 RESPONSES

There could only ever be one winner of this question; given the girls fandom of Eren in general and Mikasa in particular, 72.5% of you picked Louise as the scarf thief, particularly since she knew it was there and gave it a look after Mikasa left. The next highest answer was Eren having sent someone to retrieve it, at 13.8%, followed by ‘someone else at 9.1%, with Floch and Jean respectively taking up other minor answers. I look forward to the questions in the future of why the scarf was taken, and how will it affect the story?

Oh, and Louise definitely has the scarf. I think there will be a confrontation over it and Mikasa will Realise Things, so that's cool.

Louise totally stole that scarf.

WHICH NAME IS BETTER? 1,395 RESPONSES

808 of 1,395 of you came out to represent Gabi Gang, while the remaining 587 of you like Mia better. Mia Myriad? Eh. Mia Myriad’s weird. I like Gabi Gang better.

WHAT'S UP WITH JEAN WHEN FLOCH IS TALKING TO HIM? 1,399 RESPONSES

Floch tells Jean he can finally have the life he always wanted, what was Jean feeling at that moment? 40.5% think he was just totally shell-shocked, 30.4% think he;s faking weakness for a plan, 16.4% think he had an epiphany about Eren based on what Floch said, and 10.7% believe him to be considering what Floch has to say.

Definitely debating whether or not to kick his head in-- once he's decided I think he'll pounce

he has been asking over and over for how long they would have to keep fighting. So Floch telling him is over has a great effect on him. Although he will chose to keep fighting.

He is bothered that the Yeagerists consider him a “hero”

He is in disbelief over how AWFUL Floch is and once his brain processes it he will snap and punch the bastard in the face

He's both in shell shock and trying to fake weakness.

I think he's coming up with some sort of plan to finally rid the world of Floch.

Jean looks so tired in these panels, as in physically tired and mentally. He probably wants this all to be over, and Floch is giving him a way out. But Jean has come too far to give up, I think, so I hope he turns his brain back on.

ARE THE ROCKS THAT GO MISSING WHEN FLOCH TURNS HIS HEAD AN ARTISTIC OVERSIGHT OR DOES IT HAVE FUTURE SIGNIFICANCE? 1,406 RESPONSES

THE ROCKS ARE GONE. About half of the fandom, at 46.2% are pretty sure Jean pocketed them to use as a weapon. 29.7% did not notice the disappearance, and 24.2% think it’s just Isayama overlooking an inconsistency.

Bitch boutta throw some rocks

I hope Jean can something do too otherwise the Volunteers would get forced to fight for Eren and to help him destroying their own motherlands (oof) or get killed. I hope the theory about the pocket rocks get relevant and true in the next chapters

Floch be a bitch with a nest boutta get moulded by rocks

Getting ready to bash floch

there was a gun next to him and then it was gone. The boy boutta blooooow

FLOCH CLAIMS THAT EREN TOLD HIM THE ENTIRE PLAN. IS HE TELLING THE TRUTH? 1,399 RESPONSES

Eren doesn’t seem to have confided his plan in anyone, but Floch says otherwise. 60% confess Eren likely told him a fair bit, but not everything, 32.9% think Floch’s just BSing his way through things to look better, and 5.6% truly believe Eren told Floch everything.

Eren is the only one who knows his true plan, anyone that claims to know what Eren is doing was just a pawn that Eren used.

Eren probably forgot who Floch even is

Considering how Eren is acting now, I fear he did tell him everything after seeing his extremism.

Floch believes Eren told him everything, but he probably didn't.

floch is an arrogant bitch who thinks eren and him are best buds

I mean, the plan so far seems to be 'let's retrieve Zeke, overthrow the government and unleash the Rumbling', so why won't he tell Floch all of it? He seems to be fully on board. If there is more to the plan, then Floch doesn't know it.

I'm still not sure how much of Eren's betrayal of Zeke he was in on, but I'm damn sure Eren didn't task him with any 'removing internal resentment' job.

Jean knows he has more of Eren's trust than Floch does. From this, Jean figured out either Floch is lying for his own gains, or is being used by Eren.

Floch is just a dumbass and Eren is using him to get the necessary pieces into place without him doing it all himself

Something tells me Floch actually just overheard Yelena talking with Eren about Zeke's plan during the railway opening ceremony. I could've sworn that in the chapter Floch mentioned that he "heard" Eren's plan, and the way he uses that word gives me the impression he only listened to parts of what Yelena told Eren without knowing what Eren's ulterior motive was when learning Zeke's plan.

That’s certainly what he *thinks*

Eren is manipulating Floch's ass six ways to sunday and I'm here for it

WHO DO YOU THINK WILL BE THE ONE TO TAKE DOWN FLOCH? 1,398 RESPONSES

From previous polls, Floch seems like a popular choice to die next, but who would do it? Nearly ¾ of that fandom believe Jean will end him, though 6.5% don’t believe Floch’s dying anytime soon. Eren, Mikasa, Shadis, and Yelena were other popular options.

Could be anyone at this point, really. Would be cool if it was just some random volunteer and the death would be meaningless.

Better not be anyone, Floch is making way more sense than Armin

Armin

I hope no one does, he's the most entertaining character at the moment

I really hope all of the above and I hope it'll be a gruesome death.

King Floch is the father and will outlive the rest of the 104th.

Let him be squashed under a Titan foot, pls

Nobody, Floch will be the only survivor of the rumbling

HISTORIA! QUEEN!!!! How is the rightful ruler of Eldia not a choice here?!

I hope he doesn't die at least next chapter, because him dying is too predictable. But if he does it should be Jean.

I HOPE IT'S EITHER LEVI OR HANGE. But I think it's probably going to be Jean.

I think floch is going to have an utterlessly meaningless death. Just to show the irony that surviving that day didn't change shit.

I think since he survived on pure luck and destiny up until now, I could imagine his death will be more by accident or by unfortunate circumstance then someone else succeeding to kill him

SHADIS THE CHADIS no but actually probably Yelena or Mikasa.

The 109th Recruits

Onyankopon, Jean and Mikasa, I hope.

Who knows. Hope he dies.

ZEKE JAEGER

Isayama

It'll be a team effort

CONNIE AND FALCO ARE EN ROUTE TO RAGAKO. WHAT DO YOU THINK THE OUTCOME WILL BE? 1,398 RESPONSES

Bets for the Return to Ragako arc are placed, and the majority (~43%) of you think that the overwhelming scent of cinnamon wafting from Falco will entice Connie to spare him. Not far behind, with 30.5% of the votes, is the prediction that Armin and Gabi will swoop in and save the day. The next most popular option was Falco feeling the sudden urge to die for Reiner, causing him to transform and escape. Following that was Falco realizing his predicament without getting his memories back, and after that, a very small amount of you guys (18), think Falco’s gonna get chomped.

Connie finna die

I can't think of how bringing back Connies mom will save Reiners life, so it won't happen.

Is it weird that I think Connie's mom has already turned back to human?

WHICH UNLIKELY TEAM-UP IS THE MOST EXCITING? 1,391 RESPONSES

An overwhelming majority of you guys are most excited to see the Magath/Pieck/Hange/Levi squad team up, while the distant runner-up is Hitch/Annie, followed by Armin/Gabi, and then Connie/Falco. I can’t imagine why Connie/Falco got the least votes here.

WHICH TEAM, IF ANY, DO YOU THINK WILL MEET WITH HISTORIA? 1,384 RESPONSES

With a 31.6% majority, the… quad...duo… quaduo? That’s definitely not a word but it should be, technical definition pending. What I’m trying to say is that Team Magath/Pieck/Hange/Levi got the most votes for “Who’s going to meet up with Historia?” Following that was… uh, nobody. As in the next most common answer is “nobody”. You guys are not making this write-up easy for me. After that was Team Hitch/Annie, followed by Armin/Gabi, and then Connie/Falco. The graph is proportional enough that you can see all the percentages, so that’s cool.

Historia is the key to ending this story and getting all the context we need. Which means we probably won’t see her again for awhile.

SLEEPING THROUGH THE APOCALYPSE. WHO DID IT BETTER? 1,399 RESPONSES

We didn’t ask for a reason behind this selection, but Reiner’s rather ill-timed cozy cottage snooze (58.5%) trounced Levi’s “return of the mummy” slumber (41.5%). Maybe it was the appeal of the fruit and snacks?

DO YOU THINK LEVI WILL BE ABLE TO PARTICIPATE IN THE UPCOMING BATTLE? 1,400 RESPONSES

Nearly 60% of you think Levi will recover enough to encourage the others to fight, 20% think he’ll recover enough to fight, and 15.3% think he’ll be unconscious for awhile. The white space on the graph is what happens when there are too many single-voter responses, but we can read them behind the scenes, and one of them suggested that we’re about to learn how titan serum affects Ackermans, and I just want to say that I appreciate your devotion to Titan Science™, anon.

TITAN LEVI INC

Crack theory: he‘ll eat Zeke after Zeke offers himself up because he lost his will to live. So yes, he‘ll be fully healed and badass again.

He is going to become a shifter by eating Zeke with the cooperation of Pieck/Magath, fulfilling his promise to Erwin.

He won't be recovering but he'll fight all the same, with his teeth if necessary

He'll recover enough to make one last heroic action before dying

I don't really know. I hope he can still fight. I think Isayama-sensei didn't let Levi live to be a useless soldier.

i don’t want him to participate. i just want him alive

I think that Levi will not be able to fight, but he'll be awake, and I'd like to him take on a mentorship role. I would love to see him make a full recovery by the time the manga concludes.

Some unforeseen magic will happen

HAS THIS CHAPTER AFFECTED YOUR FEELINGS ABOUT THE RUMBLING? 1,385 RESPONSES

The destruction on the ground, Floch’s reign of terror, and the 104th’s horror at what’s unfolding seems to have shaken some in the fandom with one quarter of respondents indicating that their support has lessened somewhat (20.6%) or significantly (5.7%). The remaining 75% are staying the course with close to 40% completely opposed to the rumbling and 35% in full support of it.

HAS THIS CHAPTER AFFECTED YOUR FEELINGS ABOUT EREN? 1,387 RESPONSES

The responses here are about what we might expect; a fairly even split between those who support Eren fully (or at least think he’s got some mysterious ace up his sleeve) and those that do not support him/are losing faith in him. Interestingly, the smallest response was from those who have lost a significant amount of faith in Eren, indicating the battle lines are still drawn at this point.

Eren did nothing wrong

Eren Yeager is GOD! Bow Down!

We're left in the dark of what Eren is really planning and so I can't judge this consequence too much. It is very extreme and I'm skeptical of it all.

Another aspect of the continual violence and really justifies Eren's position.

The inner fighting among themselves is going to get worse and they all will turn on Eren.

They should support eren, and the yeagerists, not plan to overthrow them

I DONT GET WHAT IS EREN TRYING TO DO? How is he gonna claim he wants to protect his people then end up killing him ??

I hope that among his friends there are on the eren side, eren's decision was correct, although it was too cruel, but it was all for the people he loved. why his friends no one sided eren , I'm sad to think about it.

I love eren but :(

AT THIS POINT, AROUND WHICH CHAPTER DO YOU EXPECT THE MANGA WILL CONCLUDE? 1,406 RESPONSES

As much as I hate to think about the end of the manga, and the subsequent never-ending feud over the serum bowl and the Rumbling, we’re bound to become the next NGE at some point. It can’t be stopped. The majority, at 45.7%, think we have until around Chapter 134, which gives us about nine more months. Following that, 30.2%, think we have until Chapter 138, which gives us more than a year. A lesser but still significant quantity of votes say we have until Chapter 142+, and I feel a little bit like the Vince McMahon meme typing this. You know the one. Lastly, 8.7% of you think there are only 5 chapters left. Why anyone would even entertain such an idea is beyond me.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST HOPING TO SEE NEXT CHAPTER? 1,409 RESPONSES

Wow! A huge split of opinion here regarding hopes for next chapter, as might be expected; but out in front with 27.8% of the vote is a wish to see more Hange, Levi, Pieck and Magath; no doubt because we haven’t seen them for a while. Coming up in second place is Jean and Mikasa, with a number of fans hoping they will fight back against Floch. And of course, third place is the everpresent wish to see Historia once more. What on Earth is she up to???

Historia hopefully

A solid chapter with a lot of great character development. Who wants to bet that Connie and Falco are going to run into Historia at Ragako?

Give me Historia

Jean has an epiphany about himself and Eren's actions (since Floch is Eren's fanboy, like Jean was to a certain degree))

Jean and Floch will fight!

If Floch doesn't make Jean react, I don't know who else will. Their relationship has always been complex, so it would be beautiful to see Jean killing him. But as long as it's not a Jaeger, I'll be fine.

I can’t help but feel that there was something odd about the way Hange spoke about Levi to Magath and Pieck. “Rest assured, he’s just a harmless man who failed to die”. Harmless? Levi? Really? And Hange doesn’t speak like that, so to me this looks like strategizing and covering something up. I don’t think Levi is 100% okay, far from, but I don’t think he’s on the verge of death. And even if Levi will physically be unable to fight, he still isn’t harmless. He wasn’t dubbed Humanity’s Strongest only for his physical strength; Levi is smart, he’s an excellent leader, he’s compassionate and experienced. So, even if we don’t see him engage in fights as a soldier, I believe we will get to see him devise plans and strategies, negotiate, etc. After all, we still don’t know what the Ackermans are capable of. We know they have superhuman strength, so I believe we’re all in for a surprise (or not so much of a surprise) when it comes to Levi. He’s played an enormous part in the story already, but his story isn’t over. Best boi love him yes.

I hope he can still fight. I think Isayama-sensei didn't let Levi live to be a useless soldier.

All aboard the ship! Ms. HanjiXMagath is setting sail! (???)

HISTORIA BACKSTORY, OR I WILL END THIS WORLD

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 1,328 RESPONSES

Reddit continues to dominate the responses to this question, and this month there were literally more people who don’t discuss the series than people who discuss it on Tumblr. A direct consequence of banning Titan-presenting nipples, surely. Lastly, something ominous is going on in the Snapchat cult, because there were only two of you this month, down from five last month. That’s still enough to reproduce though and it makes me uneasy. Regardless of where or whether you discuss the series though, we appreciate all of you guys’ participation in the poll. We literally couldn’t do it without you!

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER?

hE dID nOtHing wrOnG

I mean it's not like Eren could be like "wait while you're breaking out of the wall, can ya be clean about it?" but also....yeahhhhh umm I'm not positive that Eren cares for the majority of Paradisians

Petra's death still burns... Yet I can't really hate Annie.

[Annie’s] story kinda looks like a copypasta of Zeke's but I'm glad it's established she doesn't care for her grand goal and would sacrifice everything to achieve hers if it needs to be brought again

I feel for the wall Titans, they've been conscious for the last century, just chilling there.

Isayama couldn't have made the parallel between Annie and Eren any more blatant if he tried.

I don't know why people are so surprised with Eren being in cahoots with Floch. He is already killing billions to secure peace for Paradis, installing an authoritarian government for the same reason is not unlike him. He already said, he is going to take the freedom from people if they threaten his even innocents.

0/10 no Reiner. jk, the chapter may not have "action" per se, but i love the focus on how the rumbling affects all the characters, including the eldians in the camps. also, all the pairings are really interesting. i hope the HLMP combo leads to good things for the future. i wonder if Armin & Gabi'll talk, and whether she'll learn that he is the Colossus titan, or if she'll catch onto Reiner's great familiarity with these people…

another average chapter in SNK standards (awesome in manga standards)

Another set-up chapter - would be good to see some major events occur to keep the momentum going. Also want Eren/Zeke POVs

After 10 months of wondering where Levi was and if he was alive, i fully sympathise with Annie stans, who had to wait the better part of a decade. But I'm glad to know Levi's alive for now.

Seeing almost everyone other than the Jeager brothers was so damn fresh. Now everyone's gotta work together to stop the total downer ending.

Felt like this a needed chapter to see where all the characters’ directions are headed. Whether we see more compromise or more tension between characters. It creates more anticipation and excitement for what’s to become of Eren and his plan.

Isayama been sleepin on some important characters 💤

Very interesting seeing so many different perspectives, if only we could get Historia some day

Great chapter. But if hange teams up with Pieck and Magath I am going to be very disappointed. They have no reason to rely on the the people who have been trying to exterminate them for years. I get they need to stop eren but they cant let forget the atrocities Marley has done to them. Regroup with the rest and figure out another goddman way.

A very interesting chapter. I fully expect an emotional outburst from Mikasa any time now. Maybe directed at Eren himself.

aaahh I just want Zeke

Give me Eren

Give me Historia

How the hell will Isayama cover all these separated smol groups in only 12 chapters??? Can he rly end the manga this year cos I have doubts!

All pieces are on the move, time to wrap things up, Isayama-sensei! Though I don't see any way to stop Eren, unless they maybe use Historia and her royal blood? Can't wait to see how Isayama will solve all of this.

I love the setting of the rumbling as a slow moving mass of dust and meat that we’re all powerless to stop. I love how we’ve seen it from the perspective of people on the receiving end of the destruction, from people that support it and most of all, people who would never support it but are still benefiting from it. Regardless, none of them could stop even if they wanted too. It makes the issue seem so much more real.

Annie is pretty much like Eren right now, knowingly doing terrible things for the people they care about, both have accepted the cruelty of the world and acted accordingly and is not like the world has given them reasons to think otherwise. But this mentality has only brought pain and suffering around them and to themselves, I hope in the end she changes her outlook in life and finally goes against the "current" of the way things are as she described and do the right thing.

Annie needs to get Armins head out of his ass. Floch was executing people next to his friends and he just runs off wtf

I DONT GET WHAT IS EREN TRYING TO DO? How is he gonna claim he wants to protect his people then end up killing him ??

Armin did nothing wrong. I've seen people complaining about he "yelling with waifu" and even comparing with Eren, even tho what Eren did was totally intentional, while Armin wasn't he didn't mean to hurt her, he snapped under stress, but when he saw he hurt her he regretted so much that even brought Erwin to the picture. But apparently his feeling and emotions are nothing compared with Mikasa's...

Armin made the right choice to go after Falco. His strategy is to ally with the Warriors and Marley. His tactic is to use Falco as barter. It is the best move he can make with the situation as it is. If he succeeds he gains Connie back in the fold, Falco, Gabi, Reiner, Pieck, and Magath. This type of quality help will raise morale and lessen the pressure that everyone feels. Hopefully they work as a team and communicate with each other. Don’t be like Eren who has no fog of war because he knows how it ends and, yet, doesn’t tell anybody about it.

As long as the rest of the world is unwilling to negotiate peacefully I’m not sure what other options were on the table. Obviously eren’s actions are irredeemable, but I feel that he’ll have the same sentiment Annie expressed: if this is the only way his friends make it out alive then he’d choose this path every time. I don’t think all of the blame is on eren(though he is still responsible for his own actions). Every side played a role in this and it should have never come to this to begin with.

I really appreciated the scenes with Armin, Mikasa, and Jean. The rumbling is a world-changing/ reality altering event and Armin said as much, but I'm really hoping these three can manage to salvage some peace for themselves despite the chaos.I think Eren has already accepted his own mortality re: the Curse of Ymir and has fully resigned himself to doing whatever he deems necessary for Paradis, I'm interested to see his end. I also enjoyed seeing Levi and Hange, I never doubted their survival; it also might be a further indication that Floch is BS'ing his way with his power grab when he said that they were killed...This series is excellent.

Wake up already, Reiner. Say something, Levi. At least Falco's awake again. And Annie, for the love of Eldia, please explain your crystal.

Can't wait to see Jean snap at Floch

It was great but isayama please let us see eren...

I just really hope Connie doesn't die but I'm not feeling too optimistic... I can't believe Annie's back and I'm really looking forward to whatever her and Hitch do next.

The reaction to the Armin and Mikasa scene initially drove me up the wall, because people's readings of Mikasa are just so fucking bad--she's literally right??? LMAO. Mikasa and the 104th have always followed Armin's guidance, so she isn't even wrong when she asks how to make herself useful. But the reaction to her question about Eren is just...

Levi surviving the thunderspear was bullshit. Hopefully he stays permanently injured and not overpowered again. Isayama give us Historia please. I hope we get to see my baby Reiner wake up next chapter. I wish that Reiner and Annie meet again please

I got emotional when Falco was starting to "remember" Connie. While Sasha's scenes after her death could have been written better, every time I see a Ymir reference, something interesting happens. We need to remember best girl, and finally we get to see that Connie was an important comrade of hers.

I hope Connie makes the right choices, my boy has suffered enough!

It somehow gave positive vibes despite the apocalyptic setting, and I was extremely happy we got to see almost everyone again.

I want to see more about what happened to Ymir Fritz after she gained her freedom.

I'm glad Levi is ok but i gotta know: how is he able to breathe when HIS ENTIRE FACE HAS BEEN BANDAGED UP

It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fiiiiiiiiiine

Lame ass chapter, everything feels pointless and forced and the ambiguity and moral grayness of the story is gone.

Levi has to give meaning to those deaths. It's what will give peace to his heart. He deserves to fight one last time.

mikasa let me hug you and protect you

Can we agree Keith is badass? He advised trainees to not lose themselves despite the government. It's such a stark contrast with Floch in this chapter. He was so traumatized by his first mission as a SC, losing his comrades, watching them die meaningless deaths and seeing the SC fighting over who should be lived other than the commander. As he shot that voluteer he made it clear he casted his values aside for survival. In the end he learned they were just as meaningless as Marlowe's death.

More Yelena pls

This chapter was a lot of scenes I had been waiting for put together. We had Annie and Hitch interaction, an update on Connie and Falco, Gabi and Armin now heading their way, and Levi and Hange are finally back. Now all we need is Historia. The wait for her stopped being funny a LONG time ago...Actually scratch that, it wasn't funny to begin with. 😒

Levi is alive bitches

Really glad it's not all wrapping up with Eren activating the rumbling. Seeing how everyone is handling the chaos has been incredible. I was telling my friends that I honestly don't think the final battle will be against Eren. It's just everyone versus the pure chaos of the situation. I don't see Eren getting beat

The EMA trio was never my favorite, but it still kinda hurt to see them all split up.

The Erwin references were amazing!! Both in the manga and the end text!!

With all these relatively slow-paced, character-driven chapters recently, it seems as if the ending will be very rushed. I have faith in Isayama’s writing skills, but I just hope he will be able to pull off an ending that will do justice to all these wonderful characters he has built up, while rounding out the plot in a satisfying way. This story, in my opinion, is a masterpiece so far - and an ending could either make or break it at this point. Either way, I look forward to seeing the coming chapters very much.

Where is Kiyomi ? (2nd edition)

#snk polls #snk poll #snk 125 #snk chapter polls

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britesparc · 4 years ago

Text

Weekend Top Ten #450

Top Ten Characters with the Best Star Trek: The Next Generation Episodes

As I’m writing this, it’s officially Star Trek: Discovery day; the first episode of the new season is up on Netflix and ready to watch. Given how little time I manage to find for watching anything that I want to watch, I’m cautiously optimistic that I can get to see it this weekend, but we’ll see; my lovely wife might want to finally catch up with Star Trek: Picard first, which for some reason she never finished. Regardless, I’m excited, and I wanted to write about Star Trek again.

The new Star Trek series have been a bit of a roller coaster, because whilst they’ve both generally been very good, they’ve certainly had their odder and more controversial moments, and neither of them has consistently felt like classic Trek. If I had to be critical, I’d argue that there are plenty of darker adult-tinged sci-fi shows at the moment, including ones set in space, but not that many that follow the day-to-day travails of a starship crew, which as always been Trek’s raison d'être. However, both shows have succeeded in giving us some compelling stories and – especially in the case of Discovery – a fantastic cast of new characters to celebrate. Great characterisation has been the cornerstone of Trek since the beginning, and no doubt one of the reasons why it still resonates to this day, from the “Holy Trinity” of Kirk, McCoy, and Spock, through to the wonderful and insanely empathetic Saru in Discovery and Captain Sexpot Rios in Picard. The fact that we’re now in a new time period, with no established history to try to tie the narrative to, means Discovery 3 is in a great place to give us some great new stories.

Anyway, to celebrate all of this – the new season of Discovery and my overall love of Star Trek characters – I’ve decided to go back to the Next Generation well and talk about just that: characters. TNG famously hit its stride when it started focusing each story through the lens of the different characters on the show, so that we tended to get a “Worf episode” or a “Riker episode”; even the best eps, the biggest and most epic, really had a tendency to hone in on one or two characters specifically, such as the all-time classic “The Best of Both Worlds” really being about Picard and Riker, or “Yesterday’s Enterprise” being a much-belated Tasha Yar episode.

But which characters have the best episodes? That is, if you know an episode is focused on a particular character, how likely is it that it’s going to be a belter? Can you reasonably say one character was better served than another in terms of the quality of “their” episodes? Well, yes. Yes you can. That’s this list. That’s the whole thing.

So this list is basically which characters have the best episodes, or are more likely to. It’s not a list of my favourite characters, or even really a list of the best episodes overall; it’s just, well, who got to chew scenery the most on the bridge, basically. Now, I really feel like I should end this blurb with an appropriate Star Trek quote, but I must have used “Make it so” and “Engage” before, so I’m not sure what else to say.

May the Force be with you, I guess.

Picard: Yes, of course; he’s the star, he’s the stand-out actor of the bunch, he gets the best episodes. If it focuses on the captain, you can rest assured you’re in for a treat. Whether it’s an epic mythology-enhancing saga or – even better – a slower, sadder meditation on life, Picard’s episodes are engaging. Chortle. Also if there’s room for a classic Picard Monologue, all the better; I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about Patrick Stewart, but the guy can chew scenery. Key episodes: The Best of Both Worlds, The Drumhead, The Hidden Light

Worf: Worf’s complex backstory offers a lot of opportunities for great stories, with the caveat that pretty much all of them focus on Klingon history or the contrast between his heritage and his place in Starfleet. Issues of familial loyalty rub up against quasi-Shakespearean dynastic dramas, often with high adventure. You can assume a Worf ep is a good one, despite the fact that quite a few of them are also about Alexander. Key episodes: Sins of the Fathers, Redemption, Birthright

Data: everyone’s second-favourite emotionless nerd on Star Trek, Data’s eps are almost uniformly great, and often poke at what it means to be alive. There may be a bit of ground retrod as we examine the notion of humanity, or sentience, or emotion, but his episodes are always interesting, and often very funny, and Brent Spiner is a continuing delight. Key episodes: The Measure of a Man, The Offspring, Brothers

Q: is it cheating to include a recurring guest star? Maybe, but I don’t care. John de Lancy is just phenomenal as Q, one of the best Trek characters, and so good he became a My Little Pony. He’s arch, he’s hilarious, he can take the show into new directions; he raises questions of fate, or of the concept of divinity; and underneath it all there’s a malevolent streak, a genuine sense of danger exemplified in his first appearance. Pairs very well with Picard, naturally. I didn’t like the Robin Hood episode, though. Key episodes: Deja Q, Encounter at Farpoint, Q Who

Riker: he’s a Kirk-esque horn-dog ragamuffin with a heart of gold and a fist of steel, so there’s always a lot to love when William T. takes the helm (see what I did there?). Often issues of loyalty, or duty versus personal wishes, arise; he’s frequently putting his life on the Enterprise above his career. But he’s also a very moralistic character, so quite often he’ll be trying to do the right thing in tough circumstances. Key episodes: The Pegasus, Future Imperfect, Frame of Mind

Crusher: always a stand-out supporting character, Crusher has some great episodes focused on her too; usually quite a self-righteous sort who puts the immediate moral obligation above her own safety or duty to Starfleet, which raises lots of interesting, thorny questions. She’s a smart cookie, exemplified in the astounding Remember Me; her relationships with her son and with Picard are good to explore too. She also shagged a ghost, but let’s try to forget about that. Key episodes: Remember Me, Attached, Suspicions

Wesley: pigeonholed somewhat unfairly due to a few ropey first-season episodes, Wesley Crusher is actually an interesting character whose stand-out storylines offer a good deal of nuance and intrigue, as well as exciting hi-jinks, insights into the Federation, and – should you go that far – weird magic Jedi stuff. He gets a nice romance with Ashley Judd, we unpeel his relationship with Picard over multiple episodes, and the bloom comes off the rose in spectacular fashion when he gets to Starfleet Academy. Wil Wheaton was a good young actor and was sadly underserved by the show, but at least we get these eps. Key episodes: The Game, Final Mission, The First Duty

Pulaski: say whaaat? Yes, she’s only in the show for five minutes, but Doctor Pulaski gets a few crackers under her belt in that time. A bit like Crusher would later, she often excels when standing up to authority and presenting herself as a moral arbiter. Interestingly, she’s not always right, and it’s a fun dance to watch. She’s also been round the block a bit, adding facets to her relationships with other characters, particularly Riker. And, of course, she flirts with a bunch of polygons when Geordi and Data cock up the Holodeck. Key episodes: Elementary, Dear Data, Unnatural Selection, The Icarus Factor

Troi: sadly suffering in the face of a bunch of soppy romances and storylines involving her mother that are, shall we say, an acquired taste, Troi still gets some good stuff, mostly later in the series’ run. Taking her out of her comfort zone, making her a spy or an investigator, or giving her some proper dramatic meat, works wonders. Also once she was a cake. Key episodes: Face of the Enemy, Eye of the Beholder, Dark Page

LaForge: oh, Geordi. I love Georgi, but he kinda got done dirty a little bit. Always an interesting and dependable secondary character, unfortunately the bulk of his episodes as a primary character tend to revolve around him being a bit of a jerk or a bit of a creep. Obviously the most heinous sin is making a computer program based on a real person and then, well, trying to shag it, but he also has a tendency to be a dick to anyone new in Engineering. He’s even a bit of a dick to Scotty! I sometimes think the writers never quite had a handle on Geordi’s character; is he a young tech genius with poor social skills? Is he supposed to be arrogant? A wannabe lothario who’s just really unlucky? Anyway, like I say, I still love the guy to bits, and LeVar Burton is fantastic, but of all the main ensemble, his are the flakiest solo episodes. That said, the three listed here are all belters. Key episodes: The Next Phase, The Enemy, Relics

Anyway. There we are. I’ve still, as of going “to press”, not watched Discovery season 3, and my wife’s still not watched the end of season 1 of Picard. Any day now…!

#top ten #star trek #picard #discovery #the next generation #star trek discovery #star trek tng

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emospritelet · 5 years ago

Note

Sutherelle : 24 - “We can have our own Christmas party”

I made it Sutheracey, so I could get these two idiots laid. Hope you don’t mind. Please excuse the utter ridiculousness of this fic but Lacey is very, very bad and I’m having fun with her XD

[Part 1] [Part 2] [AO3]

The kitchens at Chequers held a large supply of candles, and Lance provided a torch with surprising speed in order to locate them, so it wasn’t too long before Sutherland could see what he was doing. Within reason, anyway. He had moved from his study to the library, where a fire had been lit, and had poured himself a glass of whisky. Lacey was leaning against the desk, still clutching her open bottle of champagne, and he couldn’t be bothered to tell her to bugger off. Besides, the library was at least warm, and he had nowhere to send her with the snow blanketing the roads around them. The rest of the party guests had gotten out just in time, it seemed.

Lance’s shift had finished, but Sergeant David Nolan had taken over, and Sutherland had tasked him with finding out what was going on with the power loss. It turned out that the whole of the estate and the nearby villages were also dark, and Nolan said that the storm had knocked out power lines.

“It won’t be fixed tonight, sir,” he said. “No way anyone can get out in this weather, and it’s likely the roads will be impassable tomorrow.”

“Understood,” said Sutherland. “Keep me posted.”

“Sir.” Nolan eyed Lacey with a bemused look on his face. “I’ll - uh - be outside, sir.”

He stepped outside the door, closing it behind him. There was silence, but for the crackle and snap from the fire, and Sutherland looked at Lacey. Firelight danced, sending flickering shadows and bursts of warm light around the room. It highlighted the smooth curves of her cheeks and shone in her eyes.

“Well,” he said. “I’m sorry you’re trapped here, Miss French.”

“I’m not,” she said. “And it’s Lacey.”

“I should see about getting you a bed for the night,” he said. “The guest rooms are always ready.”

“What about yours?” she said.

He wanted to shiver at the low note of promise in her voice, and wanted to click his tongue in exasperation. She’s probably not even talking about getting in your bed, she’s telling you to get to bed. Stop letting your cock rule your bloody brain!

“I’m not tired yet,” he said simply.

“People don’t just go to bed when they’re tired.”

She was smiling, her eyes gleaming with gold in the light from the candles and the crackling fire. He licked his lips nervously, feeling his cock twitch with interest. Lacey let her tongue wet her lips, making them glisten, and he looked away before he could grow fully hard. Damn the woman! Okay, she’s doing this on purpose! She knows exactly what she’s doing to me!

More silence. Sutherland paced back and forth in front of the fire, wondering what to do with her, and discarding every suggestive notion his lust-fuelled brain was coming up with. You should probably just go to bed. Leave her down here. Nolan will show her to a guest room, she doesn’t need you here to entertain her. Go to bed, you idiot! Go to bed, have a fucking frenzied wank, and get it out of your system!

When he looked around, Lacey was slowly pulling the pins from her hair. He had opened his mouth to tell her Nolan would show her to a room, but the words died in his throat as he watched her tilt her head back, exposing the pale length of her throat as she raked fingers through her hair. separating it into gleaming curls that bounced around her shoulders as she looked up. His pulse throbbed in his throat, and Lacey locked her gaze onto his, her lips parted a little. He could see her chest rise and fall with her breath, blue sequins glittering, and he was aware that he was staring with his mouth open. He snapped it shut, and Lacey tilted her head as she held up the champagne bottle.

“You want to help me drink this?” she asked.

“N-no thank you, I’ll stick with whisky.” He rubbed at the spot just above his left eye, where he could feel a headache forming. He probably shouldn’t be drinking at all with Lacey there to tangle his wits, but whisky in the evenings was something of a ritual. “Go ahead.”

“I don’t have a glass.”

“There are glasses in the cabinet over there.”

“It’s cool, I’ll just drink out of the bottle, I ain’t proud.”

Lacey slammed the bottom of the champagne bottle down on the desk, making him jump, and a gout of white foam spurted out of the open neck. She bent her head, letting the foam squirt into her mouth and run over her lips, sucking at the neck of the bottle. Sutherland felt his eyes widen at the sight of it, his cock swelling as his mind took the image and ran with it, as he imagined that sweet mouth wrapped around him, sucking him hard and drawing him deep. She let out a tiny moan, and straightened up, white foam running over her chin before she wiped it off with a thumb and sucked it clean. He swallowed hard, and Lacey sent him a tiny, secret smile.

“Oops,” she said.

She’s trying to kill me. She’s actually trying to kill me.

“Uh - you said you were at university earlier,” he said desperately. “What are you studying?”

Lacey pursed her lips, pushing herself up onto the desk on the heels of her hands.

“What would you say if I told you it was politics?”

“I’d say you don’t strike me as the political type,” he said dryly, and she sniffed.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m doing a Master’s in Global Environment, Politics and Society.”

Sutherland raised an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“What’s the matter?” she said flatly. “You were expecting me to be an airhead?”

“No, not at all,” he said, lifting his glass to take a sip. “I just had you pegged for something on the arts side, like English, or journalism.”

“Want me to peg you?”

Sutherland choked, spraying whisky, and Lacey bit her lip to hold in her amusement. He coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and feeling his cheeks heat.

“Suit yourself,” she said. “The offer stands. I’ll even bring the lube.”

“Are you intentionally going all out to make me feel out of my depth, or is this just how you interact with everyone?” he demanded, and Lacey shrugged, one shoulder rising and falling.

“I think you’re probably surrounded by people telling you what you want to hear all day,” she said. “It’s good to mix things up a little.”

“Clearly you haven’t attended any Cabinet meetings,” he muttered.

“No, but maybe I will in the future,” she said. “My dissertation’s on the Climate and Renewable Energy Bill and the studies and political pressures that led to its drafting,” She lifted her glass. “Maybe one day you and I will be sitting around a table in a briefing room.”

“I suspect it would be the Minister for Climate and Environmental Protection, rather than me,” he said. “And I wish them the best of bloody luck with you.”

Lacey chuckled.

“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t had fun this evening.”

Surprisingly, he realised he had. Despite feeling as though he hadn’t the faintest idea what was happening to him, it was exhilarating. Perhaps that was the reason. Perhaps she was right; every waking moment of his life had been mapped out and organised since he entered 10 Downing Street. It was almost refreshing not to have a bloody clue what the rest of the night would hold.

“Why did you stay here?” he asked. “Why hide away until everyone else had gone?”

Lacey sent him a puzzled look.

“Don’t you know?”

He stared at her, unwilling to say anything in case he had read her very, very wrong, and Lacey sighed.

“I want to have sex with you,” she said. “Please don’t lie and say I’ve been subtle, because I absolutely haven’t.”

Sutherland stared at her, trying to swallow past the lump in his dry throat. He took a sip of whisky to help.

“No,” he said hoarsely. “Subtle is not a word I would apply to you, Miss French.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said. “We can have our own Christmas party. You up for it?”

He drank the last of the whisky to give himself time to think, but his brain was filled with white noise and was providing him with no answers other than a gentle whisper of how good she would feel. He set the glass down on the mantelpiece.

“You do realise the tabloid press have been trying to catch me in some sort of sex scandal since I came to power?”

Lacey snorted.

“It’s the biggest blizzard in a decade, from what you told me,” she said. “I really doubt any of the paps are camped out in the gardens with a long lens on the camera.”

“I’ve learned you can never be too careful, in my line of work,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

“This is your place, right?”

“Yes.”

“Staffed by your people.”

“Correct.”

“Who you trust completely.”

“I do.”

“So no one gets in without their say so, right?”

“Again, correct.”

“Then why would you think anyone would ever find out?” she pushed. “This is probably the safest place in the world for you to do something you want to keep secret.”

He hesitated, unable to fault her logic.

“Besides, why is it so wrong?” she added. “We’re both adults.”

“You’re half my age.”

“Does that bother you?”

Sutherland was silent, and Lacey smirked.

“Well then.”

“It would bother some.”

“They’re not here, and given that none of them are gonna give me a mind-blowing orgasm, I don’t give a flying fuck what they think.”

He chuckled at that.

“I like your confidence in my abilities,” he remarked. “Probably misplaced, but even so…”

Lacey smirked, and set down her glass, pushing herself off the desk with the heels of her hands and walking towards him with a slow, sensuous sway of her hips. He felt his heart thump in his chest as she drew nearer, until they were almost touching, and her eyes locked onto his. One hand rested against his chest, fingers walking up his silk tie, pressing gently, one by one.

“You strike me as the kind of man with a great deal of energy and attention to detail,” she said, her voice a low purr. “Those are excellent qualities in a lover.”

“Is that what we are?”

“We could be, if you stopped over-analysing everything and kissed me.”

“Really?” he growled, and her smile grew, fingers tightening around the tie and tugging his head down to meet hers.

“Really,” she whispered.

He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his palm.

“Fuck it!” he whispered, and her smile grew.

“That’s the spirit.”

His mouth found hers, and she moaned as his tongue pushed inside, her taste sweet from the champagne, her mouth hot and wet. One hand slid up into the short strands of his hair, her touch sending shivers through him, and he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him. It had been years since he’d had a good, long snog, and he’d forgotten how pleasant it was, how arousing to feel the press of a warm body against his and the intimacy of putting his tongue inside someone. His cock was a rigid line in his pants, pressing against the fabric of his boxers, and Lacey pushed against him, moving her hips to grind in a slow circle. It made him gasp into her mouth, and she broke the kiss, lips wet with saliva and both of them breathing hard. She smiled, a slow curve of her mouth, eyes flicking up to meet his.

“Gonna take me upstairs?” she whispered, and he nodded.

“If you want.”

“I do.” Her hand tightened on his tie, and she nuzzled his nose with hers. “Like I said. I never saw a candy cane I didn’t want to suck.”

She kissed him again, and Sutherland groaned into her mouth, the kiss growing messy and frenzied. Maybe he’d tell Nolan to stay downstairs for once.

#sprite's festive fic fest #ripperblackstaff #fic: international relations #sutheracey fic #sutheracey #my fic #rumbelle fic

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kiruuuuu · 6 years ago

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Kapkan/Fuze oneshot in which they resolve an argument in their own way. (Rating M/E, fluff + not very explicit smut, ~4.5k words) - written for @yovelie! Thank you so, so much for commissioning me again, I’m enjoying your requests immensely ❤ Find my commission info here!

This has also been posted to AO3! You can read it here :)

Shuhrat gets assigned a new room. Not much changes, except that he doesn’t need to hide his cigarettes anymore since none of his new comrades smoke and the little thief with the lisp has been reassigned. His new roommates are improvements in some regards and worse in others, neither of them snore but one of them has a habit of getting up late, risking the ire of their superior, one talks too loudly and another has a buddy system going on with someone outside who hides candy and naughty pictures on the outskirts of their training grounds in return for a little cash. Shuhrat gladly trades one or two of his smokes for chocolate and biscuits despite them being worth less and turns down any other offers. He has no use for the other wares his roommate provides.

And then there’s the guy with the shockingly bright eyes. Sometimes they’re aqua blue, sometimes a pale grey, and Shuhrat spends too much time figuring out their real colour.

The guy is not dim – can’t be, not with how much respect he seems to have earned, not with how long he’s survived in Spetsnaz so far without suffering any major injury, has gone a few years and his track record is allegedly excellent. And still, his equipment malfunctions surprisingly often.

Making a show out of sighing, explaining the basics and looking down on him is beneath Shuhrat, so he silently shows him how to maintain his guns, demonstrates simple repairs with an air of irritation and maybe slams the fixed piece onto the table separating them with a little too much force. The man possesses the opposite of a green thumb for electronics and the likes, it’s as if he produces his own magnetic field designed to destroy and whenever he’s entrusted with anything, he inevitably ends up turning to Shuhrat for aid.

If he’s honest, he doesn’t have time for this. He could be sleeping instead of messing with the tiny radio but his pride won’t allow it despite how exhausted he is most of the time. In climbing ranks quickly and proving himself, he’s hoping to bring honour to himself, his family and his new home country – and fixing someone else’s mistakes isn’t really part of it. And yet he stays up late to dull his favourite screwdriver on this stupid transistor radio just so he can present it to its clueless owner the next day and collect his well-earned payment of crinkling skin, a flash of teeth, and sparkling green or grey or hazel.

Sometimes, they spar. He’s banned the other man from using knives after bleeding through his thick jacket one day and since then, it’s become routine, a quick gaze and a nod enough of a signal for them to slink away and throw each other onto mats or the soft earth outside, taking no longer than fifteen minutes to vent their pent-up aggression and return to their daily duties. Once, they find a stash of their roommate’s under some shrubbery and decide to leave most of it out of goodwill, though piercing eyes lock onto a chocolate bar which ends up snapped in half and quickly wolfed down by the both of them. Neither of them pays the pictures any heed.

When he comes back from a week-long training trip, he mockingly asks a different colleague about grey-blue-eyes’ gadgets self-destructing without him there to repair them.

All he receives is a short laugh and the meaningful reply: “They only do that when you’re around.”

~*~

Fuze wakes up with five minutes left to get ready. He examines the large, empty bed, throws a glance at the alarm clock and decides to be reasonably grumpy for the rest of the day. As a shower is out of the question, he goes through a slimmed-down version of his morning ritual and devours the still-warm pancakes he finds in the kitchen. Since his clothes have already been laid out – and it’s a tighter shirt than what he’d normally choose, but at this point he can’t be picky –, he manages not to be late after all, arriving at base just in time.

Just in time for Kapkan to bitch at him, too.

“Did you drop your brush down the toilet? What happened to your hair?” Kapkan seems offended at how Fuze’s hairstyle is going to reflect badly on him, as if their CTU was a family and he’d failed one of his children’s behavioural education.

“I overslept”, he states simply as it’s the truth but somehow it makes the other man flush in anger.

“Well, it’s not my fault you can’t set your alarms properly”, he snaps and earns odd looks from the other three Spetsnaz who seem taken aback at his foul mood.

“No”, Fuze replies politely. “It isn’t. And no one implied it was.”

Kapkan turns even redder and storms away dramatically as he seems to find no more wisdom to bestow upon Fuze, leaving the rest of his CTU to look after him, puzzled.

“Is he alright?”, Glaz wants to know, concern shining through his features. Fuze decides it’s best not to answer as he doesn’t want to poke the bear any more than necessary, and collects his lunch which has been placed on top of his locker for later consumption.

Around noon, he gets asked for the fourth time.

“What’s up with Maxim?”, Mira yells through half the workshop as usual and turns quite a few heads in doing so, attracting everyone’s attention without being aware – Fuze is unsure how she does it as every other gaze he notices lingering on him burns uncomfortably on his skin and reminds him of the times he had to present anything in class, stumbling over unfamiliar words and hearing the usual boys snicker at his expense. Kapkan once called him allergic to attention jokingly, adding how it was typical for someone from Uzbekistan. When Fuze told him it was the smarter choice to be invisible as an Uzbek in Russia, he grew quiet. It took him a week to apologise.

At this point, Fuze has grown tired of the question. He supposes it’s fair enough, seeing as Kapkan and he are usually inseparable, huddling in a corner while they’re on their phones or occasionally lost in a topic, never more than a few metres apart in the workshop, and definitely not actively avoiding each other. It’s no wonder everyone has noticed though he wishes he weren’t the focus of the resulting curiosity. “We had a disagreement”, he clarifies for everyone’s benefit and hopes this ensures no more nosiness. The Spaniard isn’t as persistent as Ela is, at least normally, and she seems appeased with the answer.

“What about?”

Well. Not everyone is.

“I am not at liberty to say”, he addresses Rook diplomatically and doesn’t miss the raised eyebrows following his statement. Maybe he should’ve worded it differently – this will only pique everyone’s interest even more and the last thing he needs is literally all of their colleagues scrutinising their interactions, watching them out of the corners of their eyes. Capitão already noticed them bickering over a dessert recently, he doesn’t need to add to potential suspicions.

True to his fears, the Frenchman turns to his small group and murmurs: “Did he accidentally disclose a state secret or what?”

Before he can dispel this notion, however, Kapkan bursts into the room. He presumably came straight from physical training as he’s still sweaty, and despite all occupants of the workshop openly staring at him, his eyes snap to Fuze immediately.

It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done in his life not to let his gaze run over Kapkan’s form, bask in the damp t-shirt clinging to muscles visible through the slightly translucent fabric nor dwell on the messy wet locks. He might’ve gotten away with it (as everyone else’s attention is directed towards the same target his own is) were it not for Kapkan’s impatient expression. Wordlessly, Fuze reaches for his bag, pulls out the extra water bottle and the towel he packed this morning and tosses both towards the man who looks more akin to the animals he likes to hunt than his normal, civilised self. Fuze feels a prickling at the back of his skull. An itch with which he’s intimately familiar.

Kapkan nimbly catches the objects despite his bad throw (and this only serves to heighten the tingling), turns on his heel and vanishes once more, in his wake leaving Fuze a little short of breath and unable to concentrate on his current collaboration with the taciturn Japanese man whose direct style of communication he appreciates.

For a lack of a better option, he starts gathering all the equipment Kapkan will need once he’s showered and changed and piles it up on his usual table.

Standing on the threshold of his flat, Kapkan reminds him more of a feral cat than ever – he’s always moved with such grace when he’s uneasy, as if anxiousness triggered slumbering feline instincts in him. Fuze prefers it when he’s comfortable enough to let his guard down, to stubbornly keep throwing rubbish at the bin until he finally lands it but he can’t deny enjoying Kapkan’s proximity when he’s charged like this, tension in his muscles and ready to pounce at any time. Especially when, on very rare occasions, he reluctantly allows Fuze to pet him nonetheless.

“You’re early”, Fuze informs him. He’d pair it with a smile but he’s still miffed and doesn’t bother to hide it.

“Are you cooking?” Kapkan is mirroring his disapproval and a scowl is pulling on the corners of his mouth.

“Salmon and baked potatoes.” The frown dissipates. It’s one of Kapkan’s favourites and Fuze knows it. “You made breakfast and lunch, so I thought it fair if I made dinner.”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t get up on time”, comes a hostile response apropos of nothing.

Ah.

That’s what this is.

Fuze fights the urge to assure Kapkan again that no one claimed otherwise and instead steps aside so Kapkan can enter his abode which is really their abode as the other man’s apartment is as much of a front as Blitz’ occasional assurances of not wanting any more sweets. It’s believable when met with no scrutiny but ultimately serves no purpose other than to project outward for the benefit of their colleagues.

Now he reads it in Kapkan’s body language, too, a slight duck when the Russian passes by, bright eyes darting around, conscious footfalls. He leaves the man to it and enters the living room, pushes the coffee table aside, moves the couch, picks up some dirty dishes and places them next to the sink in the kitchen. They include a butter knife he prefers to be out of reach. The potatoes will take a while so he can wait with the salmon, meaning he has at least a quarter of an hour of free time.

Convenient.

Blocking the first three punches half-heartedly thrown at him once he’s back in the other room is comparably simple, withstanding the leg sweep which follows isn’t – and yet he manages. One of his jabs lands on Kapkan’s ribs but he suffers a graze on his cheekbone for it, and now that the niceties are over, he follows an impulse and goes for the crotch. His world tilts and the cream-coloured rug is suddenly his sky instead of the ground; his ankle slams against the edge of the table and causes a painful sensation of white noise in his toes. He should’ve known better.

“You should’ve known better”, Kapkan deadpans and takes a few steps back to catch his breath. “I told you it would never work again.”

He did – more than two years ago. Groaning quietly, Fuze rises and shakes out his foot cautiously until he can feel his sole again, pointedly ignoring the small smirk on Kapkan’s face.

When they’re back at it, the Russian takes care not to move too much and pretends they’re wrestling in cramped conditions so Fuze doesn’t need to strain his aching leg. He gets the air knocked out of him several times and manages to make Kapkan stumble, trades a knee to his guts for an elbow in Kapkan’s sternum and laughs when they briefly hold on to each other to not lose their balance. They give as good as they get and yet Kapkan’s features are soft, eyes gleaming mischievously when he finally fells Fuze with one swoop.

Giddiness has taken over both of them at this point, relief bubbling up with nowhere to go, so they roll over the floor, haphazardly throwing limbs everywhere until Kapkan hits his head on the radiator and then his teeth are on Fuze’s throat, and at least one of them lets out a low growl. A button rips, callouses brush over the bumps of Fuze’s abs, there’s unruly hairs tangled in his eyelashes and a warm weight grounding him. Kapkan becomes the space between his hands, a writhing and squirming mass whose undulations resonate with Fuze’s quickening heartbeat so he adapts, tugs and shoves and yanks and only stops once all the skin is available to him.

The spots where he got hit still ache and the scorching tip of a tongue only inflames them further, seeking them out with enviable precision and pressing against soon-to-be bruises, so he returns the favour with fingertips and earns a variety of primal noises in return, rumbling against his own chest. Another struggle breaks out and this time Fuze is victorious, ends up on top and snarls at the hand pulling on his hair. His own hands are occupied, one used to prop himself up so his mouth can seek out its counterpart and the other between their slick bodies, leaving Kapkan’s to roam freely and weaken his focus with every erogenous zone they relentlessly attack. Leftover energy crackles between them and Fuze begins rolling his hips, thrusting into his grip and sliding his hard shaft over Kapkan’s. The cavern of his mouth houses the first few moans until Kapkan breaks free and releases several into their living space, echoing off the walls and sweet to Fuze’s ears.

He needs to see. He cranes his neck so he can drink everything in, the sight of two torsos glistening with sweat, two blunt heads rubbing together, strong thighs, an abundance of marks on pale skin, some of which he put there, most of which he didn’t. And when his gaze wanders further up, there are two icy grey eyes staring directly into his mind, dismantling his composure with their intensity and communicating without words. The only syllables escaping swollen lips are part of his name, strangled, pleading, outraged.

“You’re beautiful”, Fuze addresses the wild being below him, the creature which allowed itself to be tamed, the deity benevolent enough to put up with him. He speaks the truth, never before has he witnessed anyone this chock-full of life and determination and resilience. Claws draw blood and fangs bury themselves in his shoulder to interrupt the mantra calling for Fuze as if he wasn’t here with him right now, and his tempo is unchanged, fast, impatient.

The climax hits him harder than expected and they both spill onto Kapkan’s flat stomach together, moving in unison, gasps and pants mingling as they revel in the moment before beginning to come down. The afterglow transforms Kapkan into something with fewer edges, less tension, and though it’s sure to change once he’s sobered up, Fuze makes use of the moment by examining the now decidedly human features of the entity sprawling on the carpet in front of him.

“Why”, Kapkan mutters, disgruntled, and motions to the mess on his upper body, just as the timer in the kitchen goes off.

“Because I need to finish cooking”, Fuze replies, smacks an inviting-looking thigh and flees before Kapkan can retaliate. The fish should go into the pan right now if he wants to time everything perfectly, so he foregoes dressing in favour of fetching the apron someone gifted Kapkan as a joke a while ago. He’s not keen on hot oil splashing onto any of his exposed body parts.

The gaze in his back is tangible, even if he didn’t hear Kapkan enter the kitchen. His presence is unmistakable, the air of a different quality whenever he inhabits a space.

Once the salmon is almost done, Fuze asks without turning: “Are you still mad?”

And the waves of irritation rolling off of Kapkan who silently moves to his side to glare at him accusingly are answer enough. Even so, his aggression has mellowed into childish pouting and his yes is followed by entrancement undoubtedly caused by Fuze’s backside perfectly on display and framed by the wine red fabric. In contrast, Kapkan is fully clothed again.

They chat briefly while gorging on the food and the way Kapkan piles up even more on his plate after tasting it tugs on Fuze’s heartstrings. Kapkan washes up of his own volition and pretends to be unbothered by Fuze lounging on the sofa for two hours, restlessly moving about the flat, tidying shelves which don’t need to be tidied. He overlooks the space available between Fuze’s legs where he normally lies and even heads out to buy some beer. Fuze acknowledges the bottle set in front of him with a nod and tries his best not to let his amusement show.

Long after they’ve turned off the light, Kapkan scoots closer on the mattress and presses his back to Fuze’s.

The next morning, Fuze wakes up to the smell of freshly-baked waffles. His bed is large and empty and his alarm clock informs him that he has ten minutes left to get ready. What a luxury – if he’s lightning quick about it, he can even squeeze in a shower. After having gone through most of his morning routine, he notices the single piece of clothing laid out for him to wear for the day and barks out a laugh. Maybe he should cook more often. He stores the apron in the kitchen where it came from and chooses a less revealing outfit he knows Kapkan still likes instead. He arrives at base just in time.

“Is this going to be a trend? Are there wild birds nesting in your hair?”

Tachanka, Finka and Glaz are already tired of Kapkan’s antics. It’s obvious in the resigned glances they exchange and the sigh one of them accidentally lets out. They’ve spent the previous day hovering around the two, full of hesitation of whether they should intervene and try to mediate or leave them be altogether and Fuze imagines it’s draining, to neither know what’s wrong nor what the best course of action is. Kapkan is famous for being quick to annoy yet holding a grudge goes against his usual behaviour, whereas Fuze is known for being unflappable. If their team is this worried, it means Fuze has let some of his internal imbalance show on top of Kapkan’s attitude. And he assumes they’re unaware of its source being the brilliant light inside him, eternally trapped rays refreshed every time his eyes make contact with Kapkan’s.

“I overslept again”, he responds, tone gentle. Kapkan used to remind him whenever they entangled their limbs before drifting off to sleep, so Fuze remembers whenever they cuddle in bed. Since Kapkan is upset, there’s no reminder.

“Again? How?”, Glaz hopes to de-escalate the situation by speaking up before Kapkan can snarl at him again.

“Sweet dreams wouldn’t let me go”, Fuze says, making sure to not break eye contact with Kapkan as he takes out an extra pen. He knows the other man has forgotten his.

And once again, his workday begins with Kapkan storming off while blushing furiously.

When Fuze gets asked the eighth time, he decides he’s had enough. Kapkan has sulked sufficiently and he’s not going to stand for everyone on base getting involved in their private matters – if he can avoid a repeat performance of the week when Kapkan was made of sharp remarks and pointy looks, he’ll gladly do so. Seeking him out and dragging him to an empty meeting room is surprisingly difficult since the other man seems dead set on refusing cooperation, but mutely remaining by his side and waiting patiently does the trick.

Kapkan’s dissatisfied grimace melts the second Fuze pulls out the ring.

“What”, says Kapkan.

“It’s for you.”

“We said we wouldn’t do rings. We said we wouldn’t do anything.” He takes it nonetheless and inspects it against the light, runs a thumb over its smooth surface. It looks like it belongs already.

“It’s a wood ring. Grey maple.” The colour of your eyes.

“I’m not gonna wear this. People will ask.”

“You don’t have to wear it.”

Kapkan pushes it onto his right ring finger, blinking a little too often. Its neutral grey and simple make suit him perfectly, adorn without being tacky, decorate without drawing too much attention. He needs two minutes to compose himself during which he keeps turning and moving his hand as if to get used to the sight. “Is this an apology?”, Kapkan eventually wants to know.

“Only Sasha, Glaz and Lera will ask. Wedding rings are worn on the left hand almost everywhere else.”

He can’t stop touching it, distractedly explores its surface with his fingertips. “Why this one? Why wooden?”

“Because it’s unusual.” Some of Kapkan’s scorn returns at the word, so Fuze continues speaking: “Your brother married before you and inherited your grandparents’ rings. My family will never approve and so I don’t want any of their tokens. This is made for you and no one else. Not many people have wedding rings made of wood but it’s beautiful nonetheless. It suits you.”

The moment Kapkan understands is the moment Fuze knows without a shadow of a doubt that he will carry this ring to his grave. He might not wear it in public, might not wear it the majority of time but have it on him regardless. It’s a promise, a reassurance, a reminder, and for a moment Kapkan looks so helpless that Fuze is utterly incapable of resisting the urge to lean in and press their lips together.

Again, he should’ve known better. He’s done this only once before, displayed carefully controlled affection in public, in a place where they could be seen and paid the price for it, was starved of caresses and devoted gestures for a while as punishment and vowed never to repeat this mistake – Kapkan neither forgets nor forgives easily.

And yet, when Fuze withdraws, the stormy eyes piercing his skull aren’t furious. Not angry at all.

Kapkan drags him back in and kisses him, properly this time – what they did the previous evening hardly deserved the title, more akin to frenzied feeding instead of a soft slide of lips on lips, but this. This is blissful, warm and gentle.

He’s accepting Fuze’s explanation and acknowledging the fact it’s no apology as well. Fuze will not apologise for the emotions roaring in him whenever he’s basking in Kapkan’s presence.

They must be emitting a peaceful aura when they return seeing as their entire team once again stares at them, thunderstruck.

Finka, of course, is the first one to notice the grey band on Kapkan’s finger and speak up about it. “What happened to you guys? Did Shuhrat propose?”

The smile on Fuze’s lips seems to be his permanent companion now. “I did not propose, no.” It’s not even a lie.

“You know I’m married to my work”, Kapkan adds dismissively and this, too, isn’t a lie – he is indeed married to a certain part of his work. He’s emphasising his claim with how barren his apartment is every time he invites anyone over, comes across as single-minded and devoted to his work only because he’s scattered his belongings and memorabilia all over Fuze’s flat instead.

“But you guys are good now?”, Glaz clarifies and makes no effort to hide his relief when the two of them nod. “I’m glad. What did you even fight about?”

They exchange a glance and no more is needed for them to be on the same page. “Shuhrat called my favourite shirt ugly”, Kapkan replies drily.

Fuze still can’t stop smiling. “I said it was unusual”, he corrects gently and doesn’t add: and therefore suits you.

And all they earn are more blank stares, a lack of understanding born from the fact they will never know just how long it took both of them to accept themselves. How much of his life Kapkan wasted desperately trying to fit in, be normal, be like everyone else. How terrified he’d been at first, mirroring Fuze’s trepidation, both of them stumbling and stepping on each other’s feet like unskilled dancers too stubborn to quit, how the happiness Kapkan felt whenever he saw Fuze drove him to tears at some point. How he shied away from anything considered abnormal. They won’t know of Fuze’s own struggle, his reluctant acceptance of being other and the journey towards coaxing Kapkan out of his shell so he could share Fuze’s self-approval.

Whenever he declares any part of Kapkan outside of the norm, he earns panic, confusion, and hurt. He’s still self-conscious about his body and unconsciously hides it whenever he can despite Fuze’s best efforts, and so his comment sparked a half-silent argument full of accusing glares and unfinished sentences, the underlying issue never really spoken out loud. Kapkan doesn’t appreciate being reminded of how unusual they are, having found each other in their line of work, whereas Fuze has trouble taking the other man’s insecurities into consideration despite sharing them to a certain point. They kept snapping at each other about the piece of clothing but were really referring to an entirely different subject instead.

Neither of them will tell the other Spetsnaz about any of this. They’re keeping this secret close to their hearts.

“Maybe I should’ve called it special instead”, Fuze admits and hardly registers Tachanka's amused that actually makes it worse because Kapkan knows exactly what he means, and though he plays off the colour on his cheeks as anger while he complains about this new choice of words, Fuze has no doubt ire isn’t the emotion flooding Kapkan’s face with this flattering pink.

An hour later, Kapkan seeks him out under the guise of his phone malfunctioning, asking Fuze to fix it and in the process mentioning his pistol being strangely inaccurate as well. Fuze promises to take a look and suggests assisting him with his newest EDD prototype, to which Kapkan enthusiastically agrees.

He is certain he won’t oversleep the next day.

#rainbow six siege #kapkan #fuze #kapkan/fuze #fanfic #oneshot #commissions #they ended up surprisingly sweet #and I imagine the years helped #the beginning must've been atrocious concerning their communication #I won't get tired of thanking you #especially because of all the kind words you had for me

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missmungoe · 7 years ago

Note

How would Ace handle the news of a child named after his father? Ah! So much cute bonding potential right there

(I love the two completely different suggestions for this scenario)

WHAT MAKES US // Shanks x Makino // an addendum to The Things We Owe and Stranger Families Than This

“You did what?”

The look Shanks shot him brimmed with amusement, taking in his incredulous expression, sharp features brightened with sudden offence and his brows furrowed deep, and the whole ensemble offset by the happy, red-haired baby cooing over the string of beads around his neck, although Ace seemed suddenly oblivious to the small, delighted attentions.

“We named him,” Shanks repeated, with insufferable patience. “It’s common to give them names—your kids. Calling them ‘you’ seems so impersonal, you know?”

Clearly unappreciative of his questionably appropriate glibness (although to be fair, most people in Shanks’ acquaintance were), Ace just stared at him, before he turned his gaze to Makino. “Roger?” he asked, as though for extra clarification, in case he’d somehow misheard. Shanks had a thought to ask if he wasn’t hoping that was the case, even as Ace added, disbelieving, “Why?”

“Because all my other suggestions were brutally shot down,” Shanks answered, tossing Makino a meaningful glance, although he only feigned his offence; Ace’s was entirely in earnest. “A crime, if you ask me. Some of them were really good.”

“You went through my entire shelf of whiskeys,” Makino countered, and to Ace, said, “And hard as it might be to believe, I’m not being literal when I say that.”

“Hey, Jameson could have worked,” Shanks told her. “Johnnie, too.”

She raised a delicate brow. “And if it had been a girl?”

He didn’t miss a single beat, and chirped with a cheerful grin, “Talisker. Tali for short.”

She shook her head, but before she could say anything—no doubt to contest the notion that she’d ever consider naming their child after a brand of whiskey—“Either of those would have been better,” Ace told them both, looking between them, the gurgling baby still in his arms. “Seriously. Roger?”

A sharp note lanced through the name, something harder than disbelief colouring his voice now; it had come to settle in his brow, and the tight press of his mouth.

As though sensing his rising agitation, the baby made a sound of distress; a tiny, bubbling noise that quickly swelled to a wail, before cresting in a startled shriek. Ace winced, and reached over to hand him back to Shanks, who accepted the exchange with practiced ease, despite his lone arm, and the now screaming baby grasping his cloak for purchase.

Luffy had his hands pressed over his ears. “It’s loud.”

“You think this is loud?” Shanks asked, voice raised to reach over his son’s wailing. “He’s got nothing on me.” And with a lewd wink at Makino, quipped, “Just ask my wife.”

From the common room at their backs, several groans rose to accompany the remark, although Roger’s screaming didn’t pause for breath, even as Shanks rocked him.

“What?” he asked, at the enduring look Makino gave him. He nodded at their son. “He’s too young to understand.”

“I’m not!” Luffy shouted, hands still over his ears, although seemingly for a different reason now, and Shanks laughed.

It took a few attempts of soothing to still the cries—and one impromptu rendition of a favoured shanty, loudly accompanied by the whole bar while the long-suffering subject of the song demonstrated her mortification by making a strategic retreat into the storeroom, before all that remained were the lingering sniffles muffled into the collar of his cloak, the humming dregs of the last chorus murmured against his son’s hair, and to the backdrop of their laughter, soft and breathless by the time Makino reluctantly emerged from her hiding place.

Ace was watching the baby, a pensive weight across his brow that was acutely familiar, although Shanks doubted it was a good time to point out that he looked his father’s spitting image with that expression.

Beside him, Sabo was frowning. “You okay, Ace?”

“Ace?” Luffy asked, when their brother made to slide off his barstool.

“I need some air,” Ace said, and before either of his brothers could ask anything else, he was making for the doors, his steps unhurried but a curious urgency thrumming in the tense line of his shoulders.

The soft whine of the doors left swinging in his wake lingered amidst the conversation, having descended to a manageable level.

Shanks looked to Makino. “And here I was hoping there’d be a few more years before we had to deal with our kids walking off in a huff of adolescent disagreement,” he mused, although he was already rising from his chair as he said it. And when he moved to hand their son over, she was there to meet him, pressing a kiss to his hair when a noise of distress left him at the prospect of separation, before she reached to gently pry loose the little fingers gripping the collar of his father’s cloak.

“You know,” Shanks told her, hand resting over their son’s back where she’d wrapped her arms around him, “you might have better luck with this conversation. He actually likes you.” Then, one brow arched, added, “Potentially a bit too much, from what I’m hearing, but I’m choosing to let that slide.”

The look she gave him was fond, and wholly knowing. “I think you know who needs to have this conversation.”

Shanks sighed. “Yeah.” He tucked a kiss to her brow, before reaching down to run his fingers over the baby’s head where he’d buried it in her throat. “At least you can’t walk out in a huff yet. Or walk, for that matter.” He looked at Makino. “If he pushes me off the docks and the sea king finally gets the rest of me, please know that I love you both. And that you wilfully sent me to my fate.”

She gave him a gentle shove towards the doors. “Stop teasing, or I’ll be the one pushing you off the docks.”

“Do I hear an implied offer to go skinny dipping? Because you know I’m always game.”

“Cap!” Yasopp called from across the room, before gesturing in the direction of the bar, where Luffy was making an impressive show of trying to physically melt into the bar-top. Sabo gave his brother a sympathetic pat on the back, as Yasopp laughed, “Have some mercy on the kid, jeez.”

Grinning, Shanks stuck his tongue out. “Fat chance.” And to Luffy as he walked out, “Welcome to the family, Anchor. Rest assured, there’s more where that came from. I haven’t even started embarrassing you yet.”

Then with a loud laugh drifting behind him, he pushed through the doors, and went to look for Ace.

It didn’t take long to track him down; he hadn’t gone further than the wharf, and sat with his legs over the side, watching the sea beyond the port, and the languid descent of the evening sun, dripping honey into the water. Shanks didn’t doubt that he’d felt him approaching, but said nothing to announce himself. And he had no problem talking enough to fill both sides of a conversation, but he also knew to recognise the times silence was the better alternative. It had been a long time since he’d been twenty and indignant, and frankly, pretty damn full of himself, but that was part of being young, and it was part of being old to respect that.

Of course, another part of being old was giving the young grief for their exaggerated dramatics.

“This is a good place to sulk,” Shanks mused, coming to a stop beside him, although he made no move to sit down. He allowed his gaze to sweep across the bay. There was no sign of the sea king. “Nice view. An appropriately melodramatic setting. Personally, I prefer somewhere a bit more public, where everyone can share my grievances whether they like it or not. Ben can attest to that, as can my lovely wife. I am nothing if not an excellent sulker. You are subpar at best, although I don’t doubt that you’ll get there with a little practice.”

“I’m not sulking,” Ace said.

“Of course you’re not,” Shanks agreed. “Although the first step of sulking is to vehemently deny the fact that you’re doing it. It really is a fine art.”

Ace cut him a look, which Shanks countered with an innocent lift of his brows. “What?”

He just shook his head, but the breath he let loose held a note of resignation, and, “Was there really no other name you could have chosen?” Ace asked.

Shanks shrugged. “Sure there was. Aside from Makino’s extensive liquor collection, we had a whole ledger full of options.” He cocked his head, his look meaningful. “But people are more than their names.”

“That doesn’t mean you had to force that one on him,” Ace snapped, and when Shanks only raised a brow, seemed to realise he’d let his temper slip. His expression contorted, and he turned his eyes back to the water.

Shanks said nothing, just watched him; his hunched shoulders, and the tattoo across his back, the ink distorted by a large burn scar, still pink even after nearly three years. But then he knew better than most that some scars took time to heal, and sometimes, even that wasn’t enough; regrets cut deeper than flesh, after all. He might have survived his own execution, but Shanks didn’t doubt that it had stayed with him; the charges that had been laid against him more than anything else.

Dragging a breath through his nose, Ace took his time letting it back out. “There are better legacies to honour,” he said at length.

“That may be,” Shanks conceded, “but we chose to honour this one.”

“It’s a burden.”

“Only if you make it one.”

Ace scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“No,” Shanks refuted calmly, frowning. “It’s not. It’s actually the opposite of easy, but I have to believe my kid has some power over his own fate, and that it’s not decided by the blood in his veins or the name we gave him. Otherwise, it would mean believing that I doomed my son just by fathering him, and that there’s nothing he can do about it.”

When Ace frowned, Shanks sighed. “You want to talk burdens? Look no further. A name is only that, but there are worse things my son might have to endure in his life that he’s gotten from me. And I’m not just talking about the hair.” He tried for a smile, although it felt forced; the breezy quip hadn’t come as easily as he’d hoped.

“I’m not much different from Captain Roger,” Shanks said then, and before Ace could open his mouth to protest, cut him off. “I may not be the Pirate King, but the Government doesn’t really care about distinctions when it comes down to it. A pirate is a pirate. And I’ve got no fans in Marineford, as much as it pains me to say it. I’m a likeable guy, but you can’t charm everyone. Believe me, I’ve tried. Old Tsuru has a soft spot for me, but I’m pretty sure if given the chance, Akainu would see me executed in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t bother with a public event. A shame, really—I’d put on one hell of a show.”

His second attempt at levity came a little easier, but it still didn’t budge the expression on Ace’s face, and Shanks’ smile softened. “You were ready to disagree when I said I wasn’t that much different from Roger,” he told him then, head cocked in consideration. “Why?”

Ace gave a shrug, as though to say the answer was self-evident, even as he offered it. “You’re not my old man. You’ve done good things, and Luffy likes you.” Then, this time with a wry, half-smile, “Makino-san does, too.”

“Hmm,” Shanks agreed, smile curving. “Yeah, I’ve been suspecting that for a while now. She did marry me, and she’s the mother of my child. I think there might be some affection there. Could be wrong, though.”

Ace rolled his eyes, and Shanks grinned over a laugh. “What?”

He shook his head. “You’re just different than what I thought you’d be, back when I was really eager to meet you,” Ace said.

“Gee, thanks?”

He sighed a laugh. “From Luffy’s stories, and Makino-san’s. I always imagined you being cooler.”

“…and once more I reiterate: gee, thanks?”

When Ace gave him a look, Shanks just grinned, before letting it soften. “I’m glad to hear there’s someone who thinks I’ve got a modicum of coolness, but Luffy’s experience doesn’t have to be yours,” he said. “Like my experience of your old man is my own. You’re entitled to your opinion, and your feelings, but it doesn’t change mine.”

Ace said nothing to that, but there was something like acceptance in the slight forward hunch of his shoulders, however reluctant that acceptance was in truth. But then, Roger had never conceded to anything without putting up a fight, not even petty arguments, and least of all reason. The blatant obstinacy was familiar, and a curious comfort—to see some things remain of the captain he remembered, in the son he’d left. This small, wholly human thing; a trait that didn’t have anything to do with the Pirate King, just the man who’d held the title.

Shanks wondered idly if anyone had ever pointed out that similarity to Ace, or if the legacy he dragged behind him like a cross was all from the pirate.

“Are you really that upset about it?” Shanks asked then, considering him where he sat on the wharf, the sinking sun bleeding the red from his hair. And Roger’s hair had been all black, Shanks remembered; the red tones had to be from his mother. It was a kinder legacy than his father’s memory, and one he carried without conscious thought, the weight of it unnoticed. Not unlike the stubborn press of his brow, or the calculating cleverness that sometimes entered his eyes; the little remnants of Roger that Shanks doubted Ace was even aware he possessed.

“Not upset,” Ace said, and when Shanks quirked a brow, amended, “Just…a little weirded out, I guess.” He looked up at him where he stood. “But you’re right. You have a different experience of him.”

“Well, yeah,” Shanks said. “I knew him, for one.”

“I don’t think knowing him would have changed how I feel.”

Shanks shrugged. “Maybe not.” A pause, and then, “Tell me something,” he said, and when Ace glanced up, asked, “Who told you about him? Roger. I imagine you asked, growing up.”

Ace didn’t answer immediately, his gaze far away, perhaps looking back to said childhood, forever a part of the island sprawling behind him, the opposite direction of the sea before him; the one he’d claimed as his own.

“Gramps,” he said then, after a pause. “And folks around the island. Oyaji told me some stories.”

Shanks hummed. “So, all fairly biased opinions, then.”

Ace raised a brow. “Like yours isn’t?”

“I didn’t say that,” Shanks was quick to counter. “But it’s a different perspective.”

“Still the same guy.”

Shanks grinned. “Yeah. And he was one hell of a guy, your father.” His smile eased a bit; sat a little gentler on his mouth. “And a better father than the one I was born to, anyhow.” At Ace’s dubious look, he lifted one shoulder. “That ship was home to me. That crew was my family. Still is, although Buggy would probably eat his own hat rather than admit it.”

Ace looked back in the direction of Party’s. “You’ve got another family now.”

“You say that like I can’t have both,” Shanks said. “Which you know isn’t true. You choose your families.”

“Not the one you’re born into,” Ace murmured.

“No,” Shanks agreed. “You can’t choose who you’re related to, but loving them as family is a choice.” When Ace’s look of reluctant consideration persisted, he sighed. “Look,” he said. “I’m not guaranteed that my son will grow up loving me. I can’t make that decision for him. I can only do my best to be a good father. The rest is up to him.”

“At least you’re trying,” Ace said.

“Roger would have tried,” Shanks told him, not half a beat missed. “If he’d had the chance. And you can ask both your grandfather and your captain and they’d probably tell you the same thing, whatever their personal feelings about him. I can’t guarantee that he would have been a good father, but he would have tried to be. Whatever that’s worth.”

A pause, before he added, “And my son will be his own person, regardless of the blood in his veins, and the name we gave him. He won’t be me, and he won’t be your father. Just like you’re not.”

Shanks allowed the silence to fill the space left behind his words, seeming to remain between them, as though imprinted on the air. The sea breeze cut with a tender chill, carrying the ocean with it, the lazy, steady push of the water against the wharf like a slow heartbeat.

Ace was quiet, considering the water, and the ships moored to the port. Shanks saw as he lifted his eyes, taking in Red Force’s considerable bulk, and the little lion nestled in her shadow. A curious convergence of fates, in such a small, seemingly insignificant port, but its importance was greater than its outwards appearance suggested. But then, greatness grew out of all kinds of soil, and under all conditions; it wasn’t measured in grandeur or fame. The most important things in his life had little to do with power or influence, or the name he’d made for himself. No, his legacy was more than that; was the kind, gentle heart of the girl he’d married, and the son that had come of it.

As though his thoughts had followed the same path, Ace looked up at Shanks then, the corner of his mouth lifting, along with the pensive weight across his brow, and, “She seems happy,” he said. “Makino-san.” He paused, before he added quietly, “Your kid, too.”

“Careful,” Shanks laughed, the sound too soft for his usual volume. “Someone might take that as approval.”

Smiling, Ace said nothing, but pushed to his feet. When he turned to walk back, Shanks fell into step beside him, an implicit offer and acceptance in the silent exchange. Not everything needed forgiveness, and not all forgiveness needed to be spoken.

“You know what is a good name?” Ace said then, as they set off towards the bar, the sinking sun and the sea at their backs, the island ahead. “Ace.”

Shanks’ grin was quicker than his laugh. “Wow. The shameless narcissism is noted, and admired.” He made a noise of consideration. “In another universe, maybe we’d name him that. One where he’s not named after a whiskey, at least.”

Ace hummed. “Jameson would have been a cool name,” he agreed, and Shanks laughed, delighted.

“Right?”

—It took a little while for him to get used to it, but all new things become old, given enough time, and as the years passed, the novelty eased into familiarity, until there was little left of the initial weirdness, or of old, personal grievances.

He shored his vessel to the Fuschia docks one late afternoon, the last remnants of a spring shower having left the streets muddy and the air damp, and he breathed it all in as he stepped into the village proper, happy to leave the sea behind him for a little while, to seek the kinder heart of a familiar port; one of his many homes, although like families, Ace had long since learned that there was no limit to the number you could claim for yourself.

Striding across the porch, the soles of his boots muddying the planks, already bearing signs of a busy day with many patrons, a rap on the doorframe announced his arrival, and, “Hey,” Ace called, stepping through the bat-wing doors into Party’s common room. “Am I late?”

The man standing behind the bar looked up from the list he’d been reading, plucking the wire-rimmed glasses off his nose, a smile stretching along his mouth. Ace caught the gleam of silver in his hair, the veins thicker than when he’d been home last, although his shoulders were loose, an ease having come to settle that had taken years to get comfortable. But then leaving the sea was a process; Ace knew that as well as any pirate, and Red-Hair had been a pirate longer than he’d been alive.

“Depends on what you were hoping to reach in time,” Shanks said, inclining his head towards the storeroom, and Makino as she stepped through the door, pregnant stomach teeming under her apron.

“Ace!” she greeted warmly, brushing her hands over the considerable curve, and he had to blink his eyes at the sight. The last time he’d seen her, she’d barely been showing. “Welcome home.”

The greeting found a chorusing echo, rising up from the crowded common room, and Ace grinned, hand lifted in an answering salute. For all that he’d once associated Fuschia with quiet and slow, staggering boredom, things had changed, and it was rarely a quiet homecoming that greeted him, with the crew that had settled down with their captain.

On the subject of certain retirees. Ace eyed the apron hanging off Red-Hair’s hips. “You look ridiculous.”

Shanks stuck his tongue out. “Say whatever you want—the tips I’m making in this speak for themselves.”

Ace looked to Makino. “You miss his pirating days or what?”

Her laughter was soft, creasing her eyes at the corners. She’d braided her hair, pale threads of silver woven through the dark, along with a bright red scarf. Motherhood suited her; it brought out a strange sort of brightness, tempered to something soft and gentle by the way she held herself, like the sun breaking through the surface of the sea, the glare calmed by the water. And she’d always been soft, and gentle, but there was something almost of another world about it now.

Ace often wondered if his mother had looked the same, when she’d been pregnant with him.

“Oh, no,” Makino said, flicking her eyes to her husband. “I actually like the apron.”

“See?” Shanks asked, pleased and making no point to hide it, but then Ace had never known him to try. He slipped her a wink, his arm snaking around her waist, to spread his fingers over the curve of her stomach. “Can’t take her eyes off me. Or her hands. It’s a miracle anything gets done around here. Well, other than me, anyway.”

Ace just shook his head, looking between them. Had he been younger, he might have made more of an effort to look sufficiently disgusted, but his smile had come to stay, even as he said, “I’m glad to see some things haven’t changed. Or disturbed. I never know which it is with you two.”

He swept his gaze across the room, and the people gathered; pirates turned farmers and fishermen and an assortment of curious souls between them. He saw his little brother’s crew, and a handful of former revolutionaries scattered among the tables, the common room filled to bursting. But one thing was missing.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” he asked the two behind the counter, forever caught in a bubble of their own make; the living heart of a bar that sat at the junction of so many different fates.

“He’s playing out in the fields,” Makino said, gently slapping her husband’s reaching fingers away, her grin too quick for her to hide her delight in the small attentions, although she’d always been terrible at hiding much of anything. But her eyes were warm, and her words earnest when she told him, “He’ll be happy to see you. He’s been waiting all day for you to arrive.”

Ace smiled. “Then I guess I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“Feel free to keep him distracted for a while,” Shanks called after him as he made to leave. “We’ve got inventory that needs doing. In the storeroom. In private. Wait, did I say inventory? I meant I have a wife to ravish. What?” he asked Makino, catching her gaping. “They’re not home that often, I’ve got to take whatever chance I get to mortify them! Roger isn’t old enough to get it yet, it all goes over his head. Not that Luffy’s much better—twenty-five years old, and he thought I was actually talking about inventory. Gives my barkeeping too much credit, that kid. You’re familiar with my particular work ethic—the only inventory I’ll do without complaint is cataloguing what’s under your skirts.”

Makino suffocated a helpless laugh with her palm, and Ace cheerfully flipped him off as he made for the doors, shaking his head, Red-Hair’s laughter chasing at his heels all the way off the porch and down the street.

It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for, his hair easy to single out amidst the open fields, the red lit bright by the sun creeping through the clouds stretched like gauze across the sky.

“Roger,” he called, the name sitting easy on his tongue after six years. It didn’t feel like his father’s anymore; didn’t immediately invoke his memory upon speaking. Now all he associated with it was the bookish, red-haired little boy with a smile too big for his face—the same smile that widened now, as Ace raised his hand in a wave.

“Ace!”

His own name reached towards him, sounding shrill with excitement, before the boy followed, sprinting across the field towards the fence where Ace had climbed across it, to drop down on the other side.

He was out of breath by the time he reached him, pausing with his hands on his knees, heaving for air. Ace laughed, and was about to tell him to take it easy when his eyes caught on something familiar.

“I see Luffy already beat me to it,” he said, flicking the brim of the old straw hat resting against Roger’s back, the worn string pulled tight across his throat. “That’s some birthday present.”

Roger’s smile widened, bright and full of teeth. It curved his cheeks, round with youthful pudge and smattered with freckles. His father’s spitting image, but there was no resentment at the thought; the words that had so often been offered to Ace, although without kindness, and the echo of them found within himself whenever he’d looked in the mirror. “I know! Isn’t it cool?”

“I saw Sunny docked in the port, but he wasn’t at the tavern with the others,” Ace said. “You know where he went?”

An eager nod; his hair bounced around his face, cheerfully unruly. Ace picked out a rogue leaf stuck in it, as Roger said, “He went to see grams with Sabo-nii. I was gonna go with them, but I wanted to wait for you.”

Ace smiled. “Well, I’m honoured. And I’ll have to catch up with them later, but first,” he said, reaching up to lift his own hat off his head. He watched as Roger’s gaze tracked the movement, sitting wide and dark in his face. His mother’s eyes, full of the same, easily invited rapture.

Those same eyes widened even further as Ace plucked the strings loose, the ones holding the bone medallion, before he reached down to place it into the small awaiting hands, cupped to accept the sudden offering. “I bet your mom could sew this into the brim, if you asked,” Ace said. “She’s good with a needle.”

Roger stared at the medallion, little mouth agape, and Ace’s smile stretched into a grin. “It’s not the Pirate King’s straw hat, but that thing is getting really old. It could use a touch-up, if you ask me. A little extra flair.”

His delight was so intense, he looked at a complete loss for words, and Ace laughed. As much as he resembled his father in looks, he had a lot of his mother in him. And something that was uniquely his, weaving the two together.

“Happy birthday,” Ace said, reaching up to ruffle his hair, and got a startled grin in return, and a small, stuttered thank-you that spoke even louder than the telling brightness in his eyes.

“So,” Ace asked then, sitting back on his heels, “what else have you gotten? Was this year’s haul better than last year’s?”

His head bounced with an eager nod. “Uncle Ben got me a ship in a bottle. And Sabo-nii brought me firecrackers from the New World.” He lowered his voice, his whisper conspiring and his look full of familiar mischief, one that spelled Sabo with bright, bold letters. “Dad was excited. Mom was not.”

Ace laughed. “I bet.”

Roger considered the bone medallion nestled between his palms; Ace watched as he fiddled with it, his excitement softening, although it was no less earnest. “I was hoping I’d get a baby sister, but mom says it’s not time yet.”

Smiling, Ace let a hum sit on his tongue. “I don’t think it’ll be very long, from the look of her.”

He got a grin for that, the quick curve of it holding a small secret, as Roger confessed, “Dad’s nervous. He pretends he’s not, but I can tell.” He frowned then, seeming to consider the thought. “I dunno why he is, though.”

Ace didn’t comment on that, and carefully kept his smile from faltering. He knew perfectly well why Red-Hair had concerns; his own mother hadn’t survived having him, after all. And the thought that the same fate might befall Makino—

Forcibly redirecting his thoughts, and the subject of conversation, although not so much that it would raise his suspicions, “Have you thought of a name for her yet?” he asked. “If it’s a girl.”

Roger nodded, his frown slipping right off his face, leaving his smile bright. Wholly unconcerned, the way it should be. “Mom wants to name her Emmy, after my grandma.”

“Yeah?” Ace mused. He only had vague memories of Makino’s mother. She’d been stern, he remembered, although not unkind. “What do you think?”

Roger shrugged his shoulders, mouth pursed with consideration. “I don’t know. Names are hard.”

Ace felt as his smile softened. “They are that.”

Roger’s grin showed all his teeth. “I really like mine,” he said. “I’m named after the Pirate King!” Then, correcting himself, as though Ace needed it, “The first one, not Luffy-nii.”

Ace reached out to lift the straw hat onto his head. It was still too big, the wide brim coarse where it slipped down over his brow and the straw worn, but the red ribbon was new, he saw. “That’s a pretty cool legacy,” he said, nudging the brim a little higher, like he’d done so many times with Luffy, growing up. It had been too big for him once, too. The king of the world.

Roger was still holding the bone medallion, clutched between his fingers with a child’s wordless reverence. And they were legacies in their own right, the hat and the medallion; a small patchwork of inheritance, but their combination making something entirely new. A little boy, red hair bright and his mother’s eyes ever-spellbound, and his name invoking an old, dead king, and a glorious age.

And there were better legacies to pass on, Ace knew, but what had come of the ones he’d been given—that easily-ignited wonder, and an innocence the world could afford now—there was nothing better than that.

“Hey,” Ace said, lifting back to his feet. “I want to stop by Dadan’s before dinner. Want to come with me?”

Grinning, Roger nodded. “Yeah!”

Reaching down, Ace took the medallion from his hands, to tie the strings together behind his neck, until it dangled down over the front of his shirt. “There,” he said. “So you don’t lose it.”

Small hands palmed the medallion, and he remembered suddenly the baby he’d held, years ago now, so easily delighted. And that delight was the same, Ace found, even if his first instinct wasn’t to shove it in his mouth. He’d grown up, his own person, regardless of what they’d left him; the things he carried with him, too light to call burdens, but none of them insignificant.

And children grew up. Tides changed, and governments, and it was a different world he’d grown up in than the one Ace remembered from his own childhood. A different sea, and a different Pirate King ruling it, but then that was their legacy; the ones who’d fought and died for it. Including his father.

“You know, you’re lucky your parents gave you that name,” Ace said, reaching down to adjust the straw hat on his head as they set off down the path towards the forest, and Dadan’s cabin, the mud drying under a cold spring sun.

“Oh yeah?” Roger asked, nudging the brim up a bit to look at him.

Ace grinned. “Yeah. After all,” he said, tone musing, “you could have been named after a whiskey.”

There was a pause; a single, breathless beat. Then—

“What?!”

#Shanks x Makino #One Piece #ASL brothers #Portgas D. Ace #Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks #Akagami no Shanks #Makino (One Piece)#Monkey D. Luffy #Sabo the Revolutionary #Red-Haired Shanks x Makino #Shanks/Makino #otp: sing me sea shanties #Ace Lives AU #opfanfic #One Piece fanfiction #mungoe writes

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wonderfulworldofwinchester · 7 years ago

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What’s A Ship Got To Do With It?

Pre Dean x Reader (They are not together, and don’t get together in this fic, but there is an underlying notion that they have feelings for one another.)

Request By @permanentlylostinthought : Alright! First of all I love your writing it's fantastic! I have a one shot request, how about a pre Dean x reader in the episode (that I can't remember the name of) where the boys find the books. In this the reader has been with them from the pilot and they find out she is the character the fans ship with everyone.

Summary: While working a case, the reader and the boys stumble upon the Supernatural books. After leafing through them, they decide to look the series up online, and well turns out she’s been shipped with just about everyone.

Word Count: 1527

Warnings: A smidge of language. Reference to Dean watching porn. References to smutty fics. Mention of a Sam X Y/N x Dean fic.

A/N: I hope this is okay :) I started writing and it just took a turn, and I decided to run with it to see where it went haha. As always, if you see something I missed in the warnings, please don’t hesitate to reach out.

I don’t even know what happened in this one...

Part 2 | MASTERLIST | Feedback/Ask Me Anything | Tag Lists

How long have you known the Winchesters? That’s simple, for as long as you can remember. You may not have always been with them, but your dads worked cases together when you were younger, so when they called and said their dad hadn’t been home, it was no question, you were going to help them.

After that, you just kind of became close. It started with meeting up, working more cases together, and before you knew it, there you were, living life on the road with Sam and Dean Winchester. Just the three of you against the world. You experienced every high, and every low right along side of them, and you wouldn’t have traded a single day for a million in any other life. They were family.

Flash forward about four years. You guys had caught wind of a possible haunting, and decided to check it out. It was just a simple case, nothing too exciting. Well, at least it wasn’t to begin with.

Somewhere along the way, you and the boys had split up, and they made a rather interesting discovery while you were gone. In some old comic book store, the boys discovered, you guys’ world, just got a whole lot bigger, and a whole lot weirder.

When they started asking the owner about about the building, he recalls a set of characters from a book series. “You’re asking questions like those two guys from that book.. .. uh Supernatural, I believe it’s called. You know two guys, fake badges, hunting down ghosts, monsters. What are their names?” He thought scratching his head for a moment; Sam and Dean exchanged a look. “Sal and Dane?”

Dean cleared his throat, “Uh, Sam and Dean?”

“Yea, Yea, that’s it.”

“So it’s a book?” Sam asked.

The owner nodded his head, “Yep, well a series actually. They never sold very many copies though. Mostly an underground following. This one the first one in the series I think.” Handed Sam the book.

Upon leafing through it, they asked for every copy of the books he had. It was weird enough that the cases were documented, but the details they had in the books were downright scary. They knew things that no one could. They even disclosed details of the hookups you’s had while one the cases. Dean of course enjoyed reading about yours.

You had no more than stepped one foot into the motel room, before Dean and Sam, both looked at you funny. “What?”

Dean picked the book up off the bed, looked at it for a moment, then back over to you with eyes that let you know, he knew about something you had neglected to share. “So Y/N, that guy back in Texas...”

“What about him, Dean?” “Nothing happened between you two, right?”

“Right. But why do you care, and why now?”

He stood up, book open in his hand, and strode over to where you had plopped yourself down on the other bed. He handed you the book, “Do me a favor, why don’t you read this page for me.”

“Dean I don’t know what this has to do wi-” You were cut short when you realized that this book had somehow managed not only to have every detail of that night but also, the names were correct. “What the ..”

“Okay, putting aside the fact that you lied about that night, this is weird right?”

“Where the hell did these come from?”

“The guy at the comic book store, thought we were role playing. Sold us these books that we reminded him of. These books that document, all our lives for the last four years, down to every juicy little detail.” he added the signature Dean Winchester smirk and sass to that last part.

“I feel violated.”

“Join the club.” He huffed.

The sound of Sam almost choking on his coffee, drew your attention. “You alright Sam?” you asked making your way over to the table, where he was sitting.

“Oh, yea, yea it’s nothing. It just went down the wrong pipe.” The closer you got the more his gaze avoided yours. And upon arrival at the table, he quickly and awkwardly slammed the laptop shut.

“Woah dude. Seriously. Look I don’t care if you watch porn, but please, dude, not while we’re in the room, and for the love of god, not where we eat .” This earned a chuckle from the elder Winchester, as he got up and made his way to the table.

“What? Ew. No. Why would I watch porn with you guys right there? I know we’re close, but there are just lines you don’t cross.” Sam said, holding his hands up defensively. “I just read something that surprised me that’s all.”

“mhm.. so what was with the violent slam of the computer when I walked over here?”

“Oh it’s just.. I... The thing is.... You don’t want to know.”

“Okay now I just really want to know, Whatever it is has gotten you all kinds of flustered.” You said, immediately, snatching the laptop. “Alright, let’s see.”

Dean sat down next to you, looking at the screen as you tried to figure out what made Sam so uncomfortable. “Why are they talking about ships? What do they have to do with anything?” He asked.

“In this case, ships are basically a fictional couple. People who are fans of a certain book or show, ‘ship’ two characters, meaning they see them as being involved in some sort of relationship, or believe that they should be.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Look, I may have been a hunter all my life, but I was still a teenage girl once. Now, let’s see what sort of stuff could have made you react like that Sam.” You went back to digging through the massive amounts of posts on the site.

“Y/N, really I wouldn’t...” Sam started.

“What the hell....”

Dean laughed, “Well look at you. Someone’s popular with the fans, and apparently many other people.” The site had you shipped with just about every character at some point or another. “ I have to say, Ruby, now that surprises me, but I can’t say I would mind seeing that happen”

You through a quick jab of your elbow into his ribs, and got up from the table. You were trying to rationalize the fact that these people know your lives, some of them better than you do. As if that weren’t enough, said people keep putting you with angels, and demons, and god know what else.

Dean was still browsing when you snapped out of it for a moment.

“There are groups upon groups of people fighting about this crap. And no offense Y/N, but how did you get in the middle of all of it.”

“How the hell should I know”

“Oh wait, this is interesting. Looks like a bunch of people are fighting over the two biggest ‘ships’. You wanna know what those are?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Dean don’t”

“We have, Sam x Y/N and Dean x Y/N.” Man they are really adamant about it too. Wait now someone just said Sam x Y/N x Dean? What the hell does that mean?” You couldn’t hep but snort at his innocence when it came to this stuff. “Oh, okay, no. No. That better not mean what I think it means.”

“Oh like you’re so innocent, you watch pervier things all the time.”

“What’s a slash fan?” “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?” You asked raising an eyebrow.

“What the fuck! They do know we’re brothers, right?”

“Fandoms, man. We play by our own rules.”

“Wait, we?”

“I’m not in on this mess, but like I said, I was a teenage girl once.”

The few days following that were, extremely awkward between he three of you. At first there was a level of joking that you could play on, but after that dissipated, there was nothing to cut the uncomfortable air between you. Sam was being awkward, becuase he was the one who found the fanfic stuff, and because he knew what some people had written about you two when they shipped you. The worst part, he knew how Dean felt about you, it was just weird, even though he didn’t actually do any of those things, they were still mentioned.

The space between you and Dean was beyond awkward. There is not even a word to describe what was happening. Sure you’d thought about the older Winchester more than you care to admit, but it was just something you thought about, not really ever planning on acting one it. But now, all your mind could think about was how man people shipped you two. They had excellent points too, making it more difficult to say it was stupid.

You knew it would only make it worse, but later that night you had gone back, and read some of the posts people made about you two. Not gonna lie. They were hot. Great now, not only can you not stop thinking about Dean, but, now you can’t stop thinking about him doing ‘things’ .

If you want to be added to my tag list, just ask :)

Deano Bambinos @straitsupernaturalmalefan , @angelofchaos , @kayladools , @pandazombie69 , @brindz30 , @aubreystilinski , @akshi8278, @whimsicalrobots , @woodworthti666 ,

The Anything and Everything AKA Forevers @tillielynn16 , @fandomaskedstuff , @naruko88558855 , @saltysamgirls , @hillface89 , @unusualcorn , @trilloku-blog , @perpetualabsurdity , @ria132love , @emoryhemsworth, @mogaruke , @dramaqueenrolf, @ghost–facers , @herbologystudent252 , @darthhayber , @nj-padackles , @arses21434 , @cassiopeia-barrow , @percussiongirl2017 , @gailski1975

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localbizlift · 6 years ago

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Where did social media go wrong?

For most of my life, the internet, particularly its social media — BBSes, Usenet, LiveJournal, blogosphere, even Myspace, early Twitter and Facebook — consistently made people happier. But roughly five years ago it began to consistently make people more miserable. What changed?

I posted that question to Twitter a week ago, and the most notable response was the response that did not exist: not a single person disputed the premise of the question. Yes, Twitter responses are obviously selection bias incarnate — but looking at the opprobrium aimed at social media from all sides today, I’d think that if anything it understates the current collective wisdom. Which of course can often be disjointed from factual reality … but still important. So, again: what changed?

Some argued that new, bad users flooded the internet then, a kind of ultimate Eternal September effect. I’m skeptical. Even five years ago Facebook was already ubiquitous in the West, and we were already constantly checking it on our smartphones. Others argue that it reflects happiness decreasing in society as a whole — but as far back as 2014? I remember that as, generally, a time of optimism, compared to today.

There was one really interesting response, from a stranger: “The nature of these social networks changed. They went from places where people debated to places where lonely people are trying to feel less lonely.” Relatedly, from a friend: “The algorithms were designed to make people spend more time on those sites. Interestingly, unhappy people spend more time on social sites. Is unhappiness the cause, or the result of algorithms surfacing content to make us unhappy?” That’s worth pondering.

Pretty much everyone else talked about money, basically buttressing the argument above. Modern social media algorithms drive engagement, because engagement drives advertising, and advertising drives profits, which are then used to hone the algorithms. It’s a perpetual motion engagement machine. Olden days social media, early Facebook and early Twitter, they had advertising, sure — but they didn’t have anything like today’s perpetual motion engagement.

Even that wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that there’s apparently a whole other perpetual motion machine at work in parallel, too: engagement drives unhappiness which drives engagement which drives unhappiness, because the kind of content which drives the most engagement apparently also drives anxiety and outrage — cf. Evan Williams’ notion that social media optimizes for car crashes — and arguably also, in the longer run, displace other activities, which do bring happiness and fulfillment.

I don’t want to sound like some sort of blood-and-thunder Luddite preacher. There’s nothing automatically wrong with maintaining a thriving existence on Facebook and Twitter, especially if you carefully prune your feeds such that they are asshole-free zones with minimal dogpiling and pointless outrage. (Some outrage is important. But most isn’t.) Social media has done a lot of excellent things, and still brings a lot of happiness to very many people.

But also, and increasingly, a lot of misery. Does it currently bring us net happiness? Five years ago I think that question would have seemed ridiculous to most: the answer would generally have been a quick yes-of-course. Nowadays, most would stop and wonder, and many would answer with an even faster hell-no. Five years ago, people who worked at Facebook (and to a lesser extent Twitter) were treated with respect and admiration by the rest of the tech industry. Nowadays, fairly or not, it’s something a lot more like disdain, and sometimes outright contempt.

The solution is obvious: change the algorithms. Which is to say: make less money. Ha.They could even remove the algorithms entirely, switch back to Strict Chronological, and still make money — Twitter was profitable before stock options before it switched to an algorithmic feed, and its ad offerings were way less sophisticated back then — but it’s not about making money, it’s about making the most money possible, and that means algorithmically curated, engagement-driven, misery-inducing feeds.

So: Social media is increasingly making us miserable. There’s an obvious solution, but financial realpolitik means we can’t get to it from here. So either we just accept this spreading misery as a normal, inescapable, fundamental part of our lives now — or some broader, more drastic solution is required. It’s a quandary.

#marketing

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pmsocialmedia · 6 years ago

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Where did social media go wrong?

via Social – TechCrunch https://ift.tt/2uph9Zt

#IFTTT #Social – TechCrunch

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un-enfant-immature · 6 years ago

Text

Where did social media go wrong?

For most of my life, the Internet, particularly its social media — BBSes, Usenet, LiveJournal, blogosphere, even MySpace, early Twitter and Facebook — consistently made people happier. But roughly 5 years ago it began to consistently make people more miserable. What changed?

I posted that question to Twitter a week ago, and the most notable response was the response that did not exist: not a single person disputed the premise of the question. Yes, Twitter responses are obviously selection bias incarnate — but looking at the opprobrium aimed at social media from all sides today, I’d think that if anything it understates the current collective wisdom. Which of course can often be disjoint from factual reality … but still important. So, again: what changed?

Some argued that new, bad users flooded the Internet then, a kind of ultimate Eternal September effect. I’m skeptical. Even five years ago Facebook was already ubiquitous in the West, and we were already constantly checking it on our smartphones. Others argue that it reflects happiness decreasing in society as a whole — but as far back as 2014? I remember that as, generally, a time of optimism, compared to today.

Even that wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that there’s apparently a whole other perpetual motion machine at work in parallel, too: engagement drives unhappiness which drives engagement which drive unhappiness, because the kind of content which drives the most engagement apparently also drives anxiety and outrage — cf Evan Williams’ notion that social media optimizes for car crashes — and arguably also, in the longer run, displace other activities which do bring happiness and fulfillment.

So: social media is increasingly making us miserable. There’s an obvious solution, but financial realpolitik means we can’t get to it from here. So either we just accept this spreading misery as a normal, inescapable, fundamental part of our lives now — or some broader, more drastic solution is required. It’s a quandary.

#TechCrunch

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engl2030021 · 6 years ago

Text

Ahmad Afridi

Professor Mohrman

February 4, 2019

Washington Post Throws Shade at Trump

The Super Bowl provided many insightful advertisements that ranged from creative and deep to funny and extroversive. However, there was a Super Bowl ad that had the most connotative messages was the Washington Post commercial. The commercial by the Washington Post had taken on a serious tone, it was filled with dark images and narrated by a very monotone voice. This advertisement is trying to combat the current presidential situation in America. The Washington Post is sending connotative messages about the executive branch of government more specifically about Donald Trump.

The advertisement opens up with D. Day in World War 2, the image is in black and white and shows American troops storming the beach Normandy in a cloud of smoke. This smoke is iconic because it shows that the soldiers don’t know where they are going i.e. they are lost in a cloud of smoke, however, the smoke could also represent how America doesn’t know where it is going either in this cloud of smoke. In that scene, there is also some war sounds in the background that really helps to immerse the audience member. The sounds and the visuals keep the audience engaged. This could be a reference to our current presidential situation. The nation is in a cloud of smoke when it comes to our current political situation. The population fears Trump just like the soldiers feared the German opposition on Normandy beach. However, just like the American troops that had hope and prevailed, the Washington Post is telling the viewers to have hope in America's future political situation.

The second image to appear after D. Day is the Selma to Montgomery march. This march was detrimental for people of color as it helped them win the right to vote for people of color running for office. The image like the previous is also in black and white. It shows a massive crowd and in the front of the crowd there is someone holding a banner in big bold letters “We march with Selma,” and on the smaller signs below that it says, “Freedom.” The person who included this photo in the advertisement specifically chose to include not only the march with Selma banner but also included the banners with freedom written on them, it immediately grabs the audience’s eye. The photo contains a lot of white backgrounds, so any bold colored characters happen to stick out to the viewer, and those words that stick out happen to be powerful words which evoke powerful thoughts. This picture in the advertisement is very important when it comes to President Trump. This photo is a direct correlation between Trump and his ideology: which is a divided nation. When many people think about Trump, they think about a nation divided, often between people of color and non-colored people. This March for Selma poster is very important in this advertisement, it is alluding to Trump's bigotry and how even though he talks about a divided nation, Americans just like the protestors in Selma should be unified under one flag, just like the pledge of allegiance states.

Next, we move onto the third image which shows the American flag on the moon. This entire image is encapsulated on the American Flag that is shining brightly in a background with no color. It is the only piece on this image that has color, the good ole famous red, white, and blue. Not only are the colors a factor but the fact that the American flag is the highest object in the image and the fact that the narrator states “when we soar to our greatest heights” is reinforcing the idea that America is above all, everything else is beneath us. This flag is referencing the American people. This advertisement is telling us to stand unified, stand tall, and that America should shine brightly even in dark times. The advertisement is also showing its viewers that, America is not a nation of white and black, but a nation of every creed and color, it is what makes stand tall and shine brighter than the rest, the same way the American flag is shining brighter than the rest of the image.

Following the 3rd photo the fourth photo is a photo with a casket in the middle with people surrounding that casket, and like the previous image, the center of attention is the American flag. Now what is interesting about this photo is, the people of all colors surrounding the casket are in a perfect circle which shows unity between all walks of creed and color. Not that, but the ring of people around the flag shows that all of us whatever gender, race, religion or ethnicity, all of us encapsulated America. Another thing to take note of is that this photo is not in black and white, it is full of color. This is to show the fact that multiple races came to show up to George H. W. Bush’s funeral. There are also powerful words being used with this image, the narrator uses words like mourn and pray to input emotion into the commercial. The George HW Bush funeral picture was meant to go against Donald Trump and his notion of a divided nation. It shows the funeral of George HW Bush a Republican leader surround by people of different races, ethnicities and political beliefs. The people are in a ring all connected as one, opposite of what Donald Trump envisions. This advertisement is directly combating to Donald Trump and his policies and ideas.

After all the images of America's history have been portrayed, Washington Post begins to portray news reporters and their sacrifices. They portray Marie Colvin a reporter who lost her eye reporting on Sri Lanka's political situation while in a government-controlled area. She ultimately died in 2012, while reporting in Syria she lost her life to an IED. This is huge when it comes to Donald Trump's accusations of how news reporters create fake news and how news companies like the Washington Post and CNN create fake news stories in order to bash and make Trump look like an idiot. The Washington Post is showing the spectators of the Super Bowl how these reporters put their lives on the line to deliver the truth and nothing but the truth, reporters like the Marie Colvin a truth-seeking reporter, or Kashogi a journalist killed in Saudi Arabia for trying to pursue the truth.

After all the images of America and of the reporters are over the Washington Post throws in their catch phrase (which has all bold white letters on a dark background): Democracy Dies in Darkness. These words are telling us as an audience that the more the population of America is in the dark (in terms of information) the less democracy there will be. An example of this could be North Korea, a nation who control how much information their populations receive the less they know the less they will choose to stand up for true democracy. The Washington Post is alluding to the fact that Donald Trump may in-fact be a dictator. He tells his followers what media to listen to and what media is supposedly “fake news.” This is all because, in mid-January, Donald Trump’s team mentioned that the allegations about Russia’s interference with the election posted by the Washington Post are false and that supposedly spread fake news. This is the reason why the Washington Post played this commercial they are attacking Donald Trump and his cabinet.

This notion of speaking and representing Trump as an idiot is ironic. The Washington Post keeps preaching about how freedom of speech is important and how democracy dies in darkness, but they won’t mention any wrongdoings of their CEO/owner Jeff Bezos. When the scandal of how Jeff Bezos was caught cheating on his wife and how she demanded a divorce which in turn is making her the richest man in the world. The Washington Post was reluctant to call out the Amazon CEO, and even when they did Jeff refused an interview with them, instead of pursuing him or criticizing him like they do Donald Trump, they let the story drop, and don’t mention any of Jeff’s wrongdoings.

In truth, this commercial was an excellent way to captivate millions of Americans into the world of journalism and how the idea of freedom of the press should be truly free since “Democracy Dies in Darkness.” But for the Washington Post, this isn’t always the case. Sure they pursue Donald Trump when he keeps things secretive from the press and purses his lucrative lifestyle and this is all good, this is exactly what a news station should be doing, informing our democratic nation about what is going in the world, especially when these matters concern our president Donald Trump. However, this should also be the case when it comes to writing about their owner Jeff Bezos. The idea of the freedom of the press should hold true to everyone in our democratic nation. This nation is lucky to have a privilege to write about whoever and whatever they want to write about, and that should be true for everybody because in America no one is above the law, that includes leaders, owners, everyone.

CITATIONS

Anonymous. “Bans Washington Post Sissy Meme - Donald Trump (51528) Page 1024 • MemesHappen.” Memes Happen Meme Generator, memeshappen.com/meme/donald-trump/bans-washington-post-sissy-51528/1024.

Post, Washington. “Washington Post Super Bowl Message: Democracy Dies in Darkness.” YouTube, YouTube, 3 Feb. 2019, www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZDjfg8YlKHc.

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goldenscript · 8 years ago

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basketball player!jungkook

author’s note: this is part of a sports series with my girl @wangpuppo (: and a request from one of my cute anonies that i miss. also, the bit with meeting a cute boy in philosophy happened irl and inspired this so heh enjoy!

meet jeon jungkook, power forward of seoul university and computer science major extraordinaire

you would think from the size of his thighs and his arms that he was a hockey player but he assures anyone that it’s really just a hobby for him and that basketball actually has his heart

his mom is actually the reason how he got acquainted with the sport bc a little before he was born, she was actually a college player with a semi-pro spot ready for her until she met his dad who was actually the waterboy

they shyly flirted with one another until some of her teammates locked them in a supply room closet together bc it was so unbearable for everyone else to deal with their feelings (lol) so by the time they were out of the closet they were together and happily so

however, come around their final year in college when things go kinda wrong and she ends up pregnant with baby jeon and of course they’re ecstatic but holy shit they haven’t even graduated yet and they’re gonna have a baby and well…. she didn’t go onto the semi-pro team and jeon’s dad did his best to work hard for them while she finished getting her degree WHILE nursing jungkook for 9 months

to say the least mama and papa jeon managed to get through the whole ordeal with degrees

by the time they graduated, baby jungkook was born and he became the light of their lives and despite their initial struggles they did their best to provide the family and make it as comfortable as they could for him because dammit they brought him into this world, they wanted to make him live well too

the comfort of their lives came the moment papa jeon scored a position as a nutritionist and mama jeon became a physical therapist so that’s how jungkook got acquainted with the world of fitness and finding interest in the way his parents could take care of people

however, the moment he fell in love with basketball was when he saw his mom’s basketball tapes. all the glorious videos of her scoring that winning shot and zooming around the court with such swiftness and agility he damn near got whiplash from trying to keep up

and from that moment on, he wanted to play too

of course, his parents were very ecstatic about that and enrolled him in a community team and he excelled so damn quickly

for the next nineteen years of his life, he played basketball and loved every damn second of it and along the way he found an interest in computers too. (let’s just say he read a few books that his high school computer teacher gave him and he was determined to take apart a computer and put it back together - he succeeded) and so that is why he has a full ride to SU with a basketball scholarship as a compsci major

anywho, seeing jungkook on the court is honestly a sight because you would expect him to be stomping around, too slow for the muscle all over his body, but jfc no he is so goddamn quick and agile. he could be on one side of the court and somehow end up right in front of the opposing member to block for his teammate to make that shot

he’s a great team player really, not much for the glory and usually to himself, but on a handful of occasions he’ll surprise even his members with a half-court shot

he doesn’t care much for the glory of the winning shot, just the feeling that basketball gives him when he’s on the court, gaining callouses from the ball, and running around until he can’t seem to feel his calves and god the happiness on his parents’ face always gets to him

so yeah, that’s jungkook as a basketball player - a really sweet and hardworking boy who loves to make his parents happy and to make his teammates happy too

remember how i mentioned how he’s a compsci major?

well, you’re actually a compsci minor because you find computers really fascinating and cool and unfortunately quite a few others do too so it leaves you two at a disadvantage as first years compared to the upperclassmen so you’re both resorted to taking these random General Education (GE) classes i.e intro to philosophy

it’s hard not to notice jungkook that’s for sure, especially when he’s lugging around his sports bag and when he’s cute as all hell in your honest opinion

you once told this to your friends and they never let you down about it either. honestly they’d tell you when he’d walk in or try and get you to sit by him but the closest you’ve ever gotten was probably sitting one person away and that was on the final exam day

on a few occasions you two would actually inadvertently glance at one another during your discussion (dear god none of your friends let you live, best believe that) but you were always too shy to approach him and he was actually quite shy himself because let’s face it baby boy is a shy nugget who only knows basketball and comp sci and some philosophy (barely tho lol but it’s okay cuz you knew the bare minimum too)

anyway, that quarter you didn’t get to know him as you wished and both of you ended up regretting that because damn y’all thought each other was cute. for him it was especially seeing you laugh with your friends and for you it was that little perplexed expression on his face when the professor would mention soundness and the theories about the concepts and dshgjds yeah you really wished you had taken that chance to tell him he was cute on the last day like you initially planned but was too chicken to do

but guess what?

the next quarter you see him in your intro to computers class and somehow you two end up seated by one another and although there’s no seating chart, it just becomes a thing that this is that person’s seat the moment they sit there more than twice and so you both are seated not too far from one another

your hair is a slight mess and your eyes are puffy while you sip your coffee and he looks fairly content albeit sleepy with his hood drawn up and you both don’t even realize it’s each other until hour two of the lab goes by

you’re both starting to wake up and looking around at each other cuz people are shuffling around and some are moving closer toward one another and then it strikes you that the kid with slightly ruffled hair is very familiar and then it hits you and you’re just like “wow ok holy shit cute person from that philosophy class!!!!”

but this isn’t enough to get you two to start talking to each other

that self-established seating chart has already set in notion and so there’s no honest chance in getting to know him from that and so you kinda give up because you’re very sure he probably doesn’t remember you and dammit your TA is standing over your shoulder staring at your codes with narrowed eyes (rip you but he was just playin’ cuz he liked what you had)

this whole exchange isn’t to say you both never talk because on this chance encounter of finding out why he lugs that damn nike bag around all the time comes full circle

so you do work at the infirmary, usually filing papers and the like since it’s sort of the track for your major and on a particular day comes in jungkook!

he looks like he’s in a lot of pain clutching his shoulder and the nurse gets him to do the necessary papers and shovels him off to the doctor who tells him that he has a pretty bad fracture and he won’t be able to play for the rest of the season (at least that’s what they think)

reason: some asshole from one of the other teams hit him a little too hard after one too many unnecessary roughness calls and on this blow jungkook fell a little too hard and too awkward for it to just be another minor bruise and yeah :(

he’s pretty devastated about this and he has to go through a bunch of testing and whatnot and as an assistant you usually run around making copies until you have to hand off some paperwork for him to fill out

prior to this, you noticed how most of his appointments took up his time during the labs and the lectures so you nicely set a copy of your notes with his, adding in things you figured he might need to know from the lecture since he was unable to attend and the moment he receives the large stack his eyes grow wide

and you’re like “oh so i remember you from my comp sci class and i figured you might these notes… -oh and those are just basic info that the doctor wanted you to sign off on and the like”

he blinks at you, still pretty surprised at your kindness (and totally not freaking out that such a cute person is chatting from him aka the same one he’s wanted to talk to for a while) but he flashes you a small smile (and omg you love it so much) and thanks you

coincidentally most of your volunteer shifts are during his appointments and whatnot so you talk every now and then, usually about the notes and eventually about your majors

the doctors and the nurses think it’s absolutely adorable so sometimes they let you two chat a little longer than usual just for young love to bloom <3

this exchange goes on from some time until he finds the guts to ask for your number when you hand him the large stack of notes in this rushed blurting of words i.e. “soumiwaswonderingificould-maybe-getyournumber??”

you: “wait what”

he looks down, cheeks quite pink, “can i -um- get your number? since y’know we have comp sci together so it’d be easier to like study for exams and talk about it and stuff…. yeah….”

you grin and nod, scribbling it onto one of the notes and the two of you can’t deny the butterflies and erratically beating hearts y’all have going on

you both see each other during his check-ups but he’s healing quite quickly thanks to having such strong bones so he may not be out for the rest of the season like they thought thankfully and so when he’s fine and his check-ups are less and less

so along the way, you two end up talking day by day even sitting by one another in your comp lecture because you’re semi-friends now and it’s just nice to have someone you know in that class since none of your other friends were interested in comp sci like you so nowadays you’ll text one another about the class and how your days are and those little butterflies emerge whenever you wait for his text or receive a response and you’re just like “dsjghsdjgshdgs”

little do you know he’s honestly the same exact way and his roommates jimin and taehyung are always like “???? WHO DAT? :D” and jungkook’s like “lol gtfo bye”

anyway, one day you text him about the upcoming final bc you’ll be damned if you miss out on your chance to actually ask his kid out and studying together and he agrees but it’d have to be after his practice and you ask him about his shoulder and if he’ll be good to play at championships

and he’s like “oh yah!”

and you’re like “o: woah, can i come watch? i haven’t gone to a game and i wanna see you play. prolly treat ya out if you win”

and ok, at first he’s a lil’ shy but he says “ok sure, just say you’re with me at the door” and you do and jin (the RA)’s at the entrance like “O: WHAT MY FLOOR CHILD HAS A GIRLFRIEND, THAT PUNK KSJHFJS” but before he can say anything else one of jungkook’s buds urges you to sit by the front and you do until you see jungkook and he looks so nervous, glancing around until his eyes settle on you and he just flashes you a grin and wave which you return as well

the game is going by swimmingly and you can’t help but watch jungkook especially because even though he’s the power forward he’s also very conscious of his shoulder which you were extremely worried about until you feel like you can finally breathe when your school wins and you stand with the crowd cheering like crazy

out of everyone tho he actually approaches you first with a grin and you’re congratulating him and he feels so elated he really just wants to take you up in his arms and kiss you tbh but he has self control and mercy bc he’s sweating like crazy

ngl tho he looks crazy attractive in your opinion

anywayy, as you two are talking since you did tell him that you’d buy him food on his win, the rest of the team’s like “yooo kook! party at jackson’s!!!! you in??”

and although you’re disappointed you tell him you won’t mind if he goes but he turns to you and says with a grin “nah i got plans already” and jsdkghsjgh the team goes “oOOOOoooooOoooo” but y’all ignore them and he goes “i’ll be back ok? gonna get cleaned up and we can get food?”

so you’re content to wait by the locker room for him, grinning af bc holy shit the cute boy you really wanted to get to know last quarter is going to dinner with you!!!!!

meanwhile jungkook’s so nervous and stuff cuz he plans on confessing and stuff since it just seems right and his teammates clap him on the back like “yo you got this bro!!!!!!! goood luck tho jin definitely sent him some salty messages and warnings to be safe ahahaha

and ok so y’all go to dinner at this nice ramen shop and it’s really great! and you two are laughing your asses off about how this one time oneo f his roomates taehyung got stuck in between the washing machines because he was so certain he could fit and how they had to call the fire department to get the boy loose and yeah ahaha

and he’s just in awe with how damn beautiful you look when your laughing and he just blurts out “you have a really nice laugh” when you ask him why he’s staring and you’re like “o: oh thank you…. you do too”

and he says “i wanna hear you laugh more and be the reason why you do….” he lets out a deep sigh, appearing a lot more nervous than before, “i like you a lot. i think you’re incredibly cute and i love that you love compsci as much as i do and talking to you these past few weeks have made me happy and god i really wanted to kiss you after the game but i didn’t want to scare you and i feel like this is a lot less eloquent than in my head so i’m sorry”

and you’re just in awe because damn you really planned on confessing first but you can’t deny the smile spreading on your face and you tell him “kook, i like you too. and i’d really like it if you kissed me, by the way”

and he’s all wide eyed but he grins and after y’all eat and you’re strolling around the city with his arm draped over your shoulders, you guys stop at the top where it overlooks the city lights and on a particular moment when you both are still and quiet and glancing at one another you lean in and do it

and it leads to a shocked expression on his face but he lets go of your shoulders and puts his hands on either side of your face and kisses you again

and ahh it’s just so damn sweet and neither of you can stop grinning because damn it really worked out as you both hoped

dating jungkook entails a lot of visits to his practices after you’re done with volunteering where you’ll come by with ice packs and water and snacks and usually you’ll bring enough snacks for the others who absolutely adore you for that

you also have a tendency to fuss over him whenever he overexerts himself because he’s a very big overachiever in sports and academics and sometimes you gotta threaten to withdraw your kisses and affections just to get him to settle down honestly

his roommates were so happy to hear how things turned out for you two and they go out of their way to tease him whenever you’re around and dear god Jin

well when he found out you two got together, he saw y’all holding hands and he literally sat you both in the lounge, brought out some snacks and just chatted with you

to jungkook, this was horrendous but you loved chatting with jin because he’d lay out a bunch of things about kook like how he isn’t the cleanliest and you shouldn’t be surprised to find anything and everything under his bed and how there was one time when jungkook spent an hour googling how to work the washer and dryer were right by the bulletin board in the room and that’s when kook lost it and dragged you away

it was then decided that jin approved of you tho

bc after the season when everyone is still training after, jungkook’s shoulder was bothering him and he refused to admit that he might’ve overexerted it and you stormed over to the dorm and scolded him for not taking proper care of himself before running around just to grab some ice packs and just a mini kit of dealing with this brat and jin just knew that you’d take care of this kid so he leaves y’all be and even closes the door to the dorm tho you pay no attention as kook starts opening up to you

even on days when he feels his worst like he feels like everyone depends on him and he’s not sure if his abilities are good enough since his shoulder’s constantly bothering him and all you think to do is give him words of advice and kissing him to let him know that he isn’t alone

because although you count on him, you want to be there to support him and well…. jimin and taehyung aren’t in the room and with the ice pack on his shoulder, you climb atop the bed, sitting on his lap and kissing him with more and more fervor that he reciprocates

you convince him to let you take care of him and you do indeed~

the one day he actually loses a game (bc hey no ones perfect) and you’re there doing your best to comfort him he just tells you how much he loves you and is grateful for you being there

and holy shit this is the first he’s told you this, you tell him you love him too and god he looks significantly happier

on days when you’re at your worst, he tries his best to get your mind of it, taking you on walks to your favorite places and carrying you when you’re too tired

other days he’ll even forgo practice, finding the frog leaps on the stairs worth it, when he can pick you up after your volunteer shift just to surprise you with snacks and a semi-well made bento box and boba and it’s just so damn sweet ok

you and jungkook manage to complement one another in the best way possible and when you’re both overexerting yourselves you’re there for one another to tell each other to chill

to say the least, both of y’all have never been more grateful for a philosophy class even if you both suffered incessantly in that damn class

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