#i have nothing respectful to say about this man and the way he and his songs make me feel
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
CRAVE | Joel Miller
SUMMARY: thereâs only one thing that joel craves, and it isnât the mental fucking torture of an overly stubborn twenty-something teasing him âtil heâs blue in the face. and balls.
PAIRING: dbf!joel miller x afab!reader. legal unspecified age gap.
WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. alcohol consumption. pervy old man joel. readerâs dad (iâve named him sorrrry) is there before joel gets pervy. some religious themes and also descriptions of religion in a negative light (this is MY experience with christianity, if you do not agree then please donât read), no explicit smut but descriptions of what joel wants to do to youuuu so: mentions of piv, cock-riding, oral f!receiving, choking if you squint, dirty talk asf, joel being cocky which leads to his cock being sad and alone. reader is cunty. not proof-read âcus, once again, iâm a lazy bitch and i donât have time for that. enjoy. đ«¶đ»
An end to craving is an end to suffering.
Todayâs last stream of sunlight fulgurates through the branches of your fatherâs prized Texas Ash, hitting perfectly the dime-sized crucifix situated comfortably between two pert tits sheathed in sheer black cotton.
Joel tries not to stare, but itâs impossible. Heâs been watching you all fucking night. Every time you get up, heâs been glued to your ass. Whenever you lean over, Joel canât seem to pry his eyes away from your cleavage. The more heâs been drinking, the more brazen heâs been with his stolen glances.
When your father rambles about some work-related spielâand youâre sitting so innocently across the wayâhe canât help affixing his eyes to the swell of your breasts. Wondering what itâd be like to touch, and grope, and suck on them.
Your mother was right about him. For all of the years that she knew Joel while your parents were together, sheâd always say that he was trouble. A good-for-nothing, splenetic, perverted old-man who was but a bad influence. And you never noticed, never cared. You always thought that he was a great friend, and a stand-up guy.
Until today. Until you saw him scrutinizing your formâin front of your dadâyou had a lot more respect for Joel. But now you realize that your mother was right. He is a perv. Butâfuckâdo you love that.
Youâre not sure what you enjoy moreâdisrespecting your insane Catholic mother, or knowing that Joel is undressing you with his eyesâbut you canât help yourself feeding into his fantasy.
âDaddy?â Your father hums, not entirely bothered by the fact that youâve just interrupted his conversation. He smiles. âDo you want another beer?â
âPlease, hon.â He hands you his empty bottle, mumbling something about how he was going to get himself one and that you donât need to. But you insist.
The blanket over your thighs is being discarded, hiking your dress up with it. Joel gets a glimpse of your lace panties that he likes to imagine you wore just for him, and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
Bare, supple skin is on display as you get up from the deck chair. You turn to him with a prurient twinkle in your eye, and ask if he wants a drink too. âYeah, another wonât hurt. Iâm already prettyââ he hiccups, âpretty far gone, anyway.â
Dad laughs while you saunter to the cooler and make a big show of bending over, completely unaware of the way Joel is trying to conjure up a plan to get you alone tonight. But thenâŠ
âSame âere, bud.â He laughs before heâs nodding toward Joel. âStay the night, if âya wanna. I mean, youâre in no fit state to driveânone of us areâand I got a spare bedroom.â
His nose scrunches up, as if to decline, before youâre turning around with two unopened beers and a small bottle of wine. Your hand wraps around the neck almost romantically, leaving very little to his imagination.
âYeah, you might as well stay, Miller.â You put down the beers on the table, still holding firmly the Merlot. âIâm stayinâ. I got nowhere to be in the morninâ, and dad bought breakfast stuff.â
Two brown eyes are latched to each of yours, and you feel beads of perspiration roll through the valley of your breasts. Despite the evening cooling down, youâre stifling beneath his unyielding gaze.
âAlright, Iâll stay.â Joel concedes. He takes his can and cracks it open, lifting it up to cheers your father. âSâlong as youâre makinâ me breakfast, Gary.â
Dad salutes and you smile, sinking into the purple cushion with a satisfied hum. You ogle Joel, biting fiercely the skin of your bottom lip. And it doesnât go unnoticed.
Joel swigs his beerâletting your dad drunkenly rambleâand doesnât take his eyes off of you. Wondering how heâs going to make you pay for torturing him like this.
But this hadnât been your intention when Joel showed up to watch the Cowboys v Browns game this afternoon. In fact, him staying past nine oâclock was completely unintentional and if it werenât for your dad pumping him full of Coors and Old Milwaukee, heâd be fast asleep at this very moment.
He supposes that he doesnât mind, being here. Especially because heâs buzzedâstill able to speak and think coherently, which is surprisingâand gets to spend some rare time with you. Even if it is with your dad.
You watch them converseâthe way that friends doâadmiring how patient Joel is with him despite him being a little bit too inebriated for his own good. Heâs the kind of friend that your old man needs; understanding, forbearing. And it baffles you that theyâve not known one another for longer than seven years, but surmise that theyâd definitely be best friends in every other timeline because they just work so well.
But itâs the thought of them being friendsâbrothersâthat urges feelings of unease. Trepidation. Garyâll have a cow if he finds out the way that his so called buddy has been making googly eyes at his little girlâs titties for the last eight hours.
Joel senses the shift in attitudeâyouâre not teasing him nowâand turns the topic of conversation to you. Dad doesnât mind, though. Never minds talking toâor aboutâhis kid.
âWhat made you stay in with us oldies tonight, huh?â
Wine is being swiveled around the glass before you take it back in one swig. A grimace flits over your features, but they both catch it.
âDidnât feel like hittinâ the bars.â Candidly, you say. Itâs refreshing. âCanât be dealinâ with pervy old men tryna touch me.â
Less refreshing.
Joelâs blood runs cold, and you smirk. He swallows thickly the liquid acrimony bubbling from the chasms of his throat. He wants to screw that stupid grin off of your faceâstuff his cock straight between those plush lips and throat fuck you âtil youâre crying and gasping for air.
He just nods instead of saying anything.
âIâll kill anyone that touches you.â Dad says, not sensing Joelâs sudden frigid state. âSeriously. âSpecially if itâs an old fuckinâ degenerate assholeââ
âAlright, Gary.â You halt the hate train, pouring the last few dregs of wine into your glass. âNo need to get all protective. No old coot is cominâ anywhere near me.â
You look directly at Joel when you say; âold men canât do what guys my age can, anyway.â
Dad grimaces. Joel scoffs. You canât help smiling, feeling very proud of yourself.
âYâknow, youâre still my kid? And hearing this shit is nasty.â Your father tells you around a burp, and realizes that this might be the time to call it a night.
Heâs never been able to handle his alcohol, especially after being married to your psychotic beer-loathing, hymn-signing, prayer-group-leading, holier-than-though moronic fucking mother.
He lets himself get too drunk too fast, now. Ever since she went back to Kansasâwhich was totally code for I fucked the priest and got extradited from the churchâheâs really let his hair down, and youâd be lying if you said this version of your old man wasnât the very best. Because heâs living his life the way that he wants to, now.
Itâs nice.
âIt might be nasty, but âleast you donât have to worry about me bringing home a man your age. Or even worse; older.â
Gary gets to his feetâknees clicking and cracking as he does soâand nods. ââSpose thatâs true, kid.â
Joel. Is. So. Fucking. Pissed.
As you say your goodnightsâand put on a few lights so that your dad doesnât trip over his own feetâJoel is mentally counting down the minutes until he gets you alone on this damn patio. Heâs determined to make you regret the few little comments that youâve made tonight.
âDonât stay up too late. Yâknow how cranky âya get with no sleep.â Dad reminds you. âYou too, Miller.â
You hum your response, lifting your empty glass and indicating that youâll be retiring to your room soon, too.
âNight dad.â
âNight, pumpkin.â He turns to Joel. âMake sure she ainât up too late.â
He nods and shifts his gaze to you, eyes darkening. âYessir. Iâll put her to sleep.â
Your father grunts and slides the patio door to close. Leaving his daughter and best friend alone together might be the biggest mistake that heâs ever going to make.
Joel watches him intently behind the glass door, heeding him stumble across the tile. He might be about to rearrange your guts, but he at least wants to be courteous.
Your legs squeeze together, for the only sound you hear is the reverberation of Joelâs Iâll put her to sleep in that sexy, beer-slick tone.
He sees it.
âShe makinâ âya squirm?â
You blink at him. âI beg your pardon?â
âYour pussy.â Joelâas candid as everâelaborates. âIs she flutterinâ âcus âa me?â
The fallout of a chemical bomb would be much more appealing than having to look Joel in the eye after such a lewd statement.
âDonât worry if so. I have that effect on the ladies.â
âMakinâ yourself sound like a slut, Miller.â Coolly, you respond. Your hand is reaching for a can of beer, twining fingertips around the base while another pulls the tab.
Two eyes screw shut when a spritz of alcohol is flushing over your face, neck and chest. Droplets of Bud trickle between those perfect tits that Joelâs eyes have almost burned fucking holes into; forcing even the horniest man on planet earth to render himself utterly speechless.
You trail a finger through the valley of your breasts, collecting the sticky liquid before youâre putting it straight into your mouth; sucking it clean. Your eyes are locked on Joelâs.
âWhat? Cat got your tongue?â
Slowly, he shakes his head. The sight before him is truly one to behold; his friendâs sweet daughter with her fingers between her tits out in the patio. Nobodyâd ever believe him if he told them this. Joel probably wouldnât even fucking believe himself.
âYouâd like that, wouldnât âya?â Is what he says in response. Heâs quick witted, youâll give him that. âMy tongue stuck in your pretty little pussyââ
Heat flashes over you.
âYouâre fucking vile.â
âAinât that the way itâs meantâa be?â He lurches forward, and your eyes travel to the small opening of his shirtâs midsection that highlights perfectly the fact that he hasnât a base layer beneath the flannel.
You see a small patch of hair; brown, and gray and seems a little fuzzy. Itâs a sudden reminder that this man is a smidge too old for you. But you canât find it in yourself to care very much.
âDonât think so.â Trying to out-douche him, you respond. Joelâs thick fingers are twined together, hands resting over the peaks of his knees. âThink youre meantâa have some kinda respect for me. Yâknow, as my dadâs buddy, ân all.â
Joel snorts a laugh.
âIâd have respect for âya, but the way that peachy fuckinâ ass was in the air when âya bent over the cooler tells me that daddyâs âlil girl is more of a slut than me.â
Your jaw rolls. Reaction: gauged.
He inches nearer to you; slimy grin plastered across rough, rugged features. âOnly pullinâ your leg, hon. I know youâre no slut. Too much of a prissy bitchââ
âOh, really?â Irked, you spit.
Joel nods. Pushing at your buttons has never been much of a difficult feat. Itâs something that he quite enjoys, actually.
âMhm, yeah.â The man is leaning backwards in his chair, now. Arms folded behind his head; hands pressed against his dark curls. âGonna have to prove that you ainât like your mama.â
Your blood boils. And then it runs cold.
âDonât gotta prove shit to you.â You defend. Very defensively.
âNo, thatâs right. Donât gotta do nothinâ, kiddo.â
You see the outline of his dick as it stiffens within the confines of his dark, navy-denim jeans. Heâs actually getting off on this.
âUnless you want toââ
âNah, Iâm good.â Youâre leaning back, now, lifting your legs to sit criss cross applesauce. The barely-covering-your-crotch sheer fabric of your thong catches his eye; a glint of something wicked flickers through them as he clears his throat.
If youâre playing the long game, then so is he. He can out-stubborn anybody.
âSo Iâve heard.â He jabs, insinuating that youâre a prude. Again. âCan prove âem all wrong, if âya wanna.â
Itâs killing him, this. Itâs torture. But heâs strong. Ish.
You shake your head, reaching for your almost-empty can of beer. Youâre taking another long pull, making a dramatic show of tilting your head back and puffing out your chest as you do so. His lips purse.
âIâm good.â You tell him again with a syrupy smile. âRather we just talk. Yâknowâbe civilized, ân all.â
His arms are moving to the sides of his deck chair, now. Joelâs tongue runs along his bottom lip. He gives a quick bob of his head.
âYeah, we can talk.â His eyes zone in on your pussy; the engorged wet patch situated on the part of fabric that kind-of clothes your cunt. His mouth waters. âBut whatâll we talk about, baby girl?â
Another surge of pleasure oozes out from between your thighs, turning what was once a purple thong into a jet-black one. Joel doesnât mind, though. The sight is sweet; itâs prurient, in some sick way.
âHm.â You pretend to think, all the while spreading your legs a little bit more. He sees perfectly the outline of your folds as fabric hugs and highlights the inner workings of your beautiful anatomy. âWhy donât we start with what youâre thinkinâ about, Mr. Miller?â
A weakness of his, that is. You referring to him as Mr. Miller has always gotten him hot. Itâs innocent, almost. Itâs like thatâd been engrained into your brain by the god-fearing fruit-loop that brought you up, and you canât quit saying it in these situations.
âOh, doll. Not sure youâll wanna hear what Iâm thinkinâ of.â His tone is rough, now. Like 180 grit sandpaper against the wooden walls inside of your fucking brain. You hum.
Mentally, Joelâs cock is spearing open the tight hole between your legs; making you scream his name. Heâs thrusting his prick up into your cervix while you ride him like heâs the last cowboy on earth, desperate to feel a kind of pleasure that no man your age could ever bestow upon you.
In his head, heâs picturing your crucifix dangling in his face while youâre pleasuring yourself on his length; glistening with sweat, and cum, and Sierra Nevada. Howling at his girth, speechless at the size of him.
He wants nothing more than to wrap a hand around the base of your throat and fuck you into next week; feeling damp walls contract and seize around his cockâ
âNo.â You snap him back to reality; halting his train of thought. âNo, you can tell me. Iâm a big girl, I can take it.â
Oh, Iâm fuckinâ sure she can.
âFine.â He clears his throat. âJust thinkinâ of stufinâ that warm âlil cunt with my big âol cock, âsâall.â
âOh, is that all?â Your tone is teasing.
Joel does not like to be teased.
âIf youâd shut your fuckinâ mouth, Iâd be able to finish.â
In a moment of pure, unapologetic submission, you nod. The skin of your bottom lip is getting fucking gnawed at by your teeth in an attempt to conceal a moan.
It works. Kind of.
âWhat was I sayinââŠâ He strives to recall his last few words; and then he remembers. âOh, yeah. Stretchinâ out that cute pussy âa yours.â
That cute pussy âa yours, is twitching. Fuck that, itâs pulsating.
âAnd youâre so sure of that? You being able to stretch me out, I mean.â
âDead sure, angel face.â He quips. âI know for a damn fact that youâd be havinâ trouble takinâ my fat cock all in one go; be cryinâ for everyone to hear.â
Through long, thick lashes, you stare at him.
âYouâd be seeinâ stars; and not just the ones above us right now.â
You look up to the sky and hope to alleviate some of the mental pain being bestowed upon you right now. Which is entirely your own doing, of course.
Joel shifts in his seat so that heâs a little bit more sunken, able to heed clearly the sickly sweetness blanketing the chair youâre on.
âIâll eat your pussy, too.â
Your attention is snapped back down to Joel, now. Your brows raise.
âSuck your soul right out from between your legs.â
âOh, Joel.â You moan, a little. He lets his eyes shut for a brief moment, only to open them again to find you taking off your panties.
Itâs like Christmas fucking day, this.
âIâd love for you to take me right here; fill me up on one âa the sunloungers.â Youâre getting off your chair, and Joelâs heart is starting to pound within the chasms of his chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Youâre walking toward him; thong in hand. Fingers wreathed through soaked purple cotton.
âCanât think of anything thatâll bring me more pleasure than you fuckinâ me âtil Iâm crying. Or gasping for air.â
âYou ân me both, beautiful.â
You smile. You give Joel your underwear, before youâre running your fingers through his hair and heâs letting a hand glide up the meat of your thigh and beneath your skirt.
âJust a shame, ainât it.â
âWhatâs a shame, sugar?â
The feeling of his fingertipsâcalloused and covered in rough skinâis almost orgasmic. But youâre stronger than what he is. So you pull yourself away from his hold, and begin to feel an unwavering sense of need. You shirk it, though.
Youâre leaning into him now, breasts pressed against his shoulder, lips touching the shell of his ear. Goosebumps prickle over his neck and you assume that theyâre making their way down south, too.
âHuh?â He says to get your attention, for you still havenât answered. âWhatâs a shame?â
Fingertips trace over broad shoulders enveloped in soft, warm flannel. Youâre leaning closer; hot breath on his skin. Your lips part to whisper:
âIf daddy ever found out about this, heâd kill âya.â
âBabyââ
Youâre taking the panties from his hand, and tucking them into the breast pocket of his shirt. Fighting a blushâfeeling very proud of yourselfâyour face remains straight.
You tap at his chest and walk away, but not before throwing a ânight, Millerâ over your shoulder.
Joel looks down at the ground, presently wallowing in some sort of self-pity. But then remembers the visible effect that his words hadâand the way he looked atâyou, and he canât fight the stupid fucking grin pushing its way onto his face.
He mightâve just experienced blue-balls at his big age, but to see you submit to his gaze was absolutely worth it.
He just hopes youâll never tell a soul about his dirty-talk. He has a reputation to uphold, these days.
#please donât look at me. iâm ovulating#dbf!joel#dads best friend joel miller x reader#dbf!joel miller#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#tlou x f!reader#tlou x female reader#tlou x you#tlou x reader#tlou smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#joel tlou#tlou hbo
303 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sometimes I feel like us as the bat family fandom forget how starry eyed people get about Nightwing canonically.
Because with the exception of early era Tim most of the Batkids are like. lol thatâs my loser older brother or some variation of yeahâŠheâs some guy I guess? He helps me with homework?
And Nightwing is the canonically a center of multiversal light.
When Heroes meet Nightwing they do the vigorous handshake and the âitâs an honor to meet you sir, I have heard so much about you oh my godâ
There are so many character where they are literally shown giggling and kicking their feet whenever Nightwing talks to them.
Even the people who donât have the celebrity level worship of him respect the hell out of him and call him as soon as they need help.
From raven to Starfire to Superman to Superboy to all or the flashes there is so much respect and awe given to this one dude.
And it is deserved
But imagine you are Damian Wayne and youâve been working with what 90% of the people youâve met (all bats) have been calling an embarrassment to your fatherâs legacy.
Your mother hates him and your Grandfather doesnât feel that strongly about him.
The red hood calls him an embarrassment and a coward and he couldnât even keep Red Robin from running away.
Your father tells him that he never should have been Batman
And youâve worked with him and you know what you think everyone is full of shit about him and you and him the new Batman and Robin are the best no matter what anyone says.
And fuck it the fact he keeps going in a suit that everyone tells him heâs not good enough for is scratching something in your brain that youâre refusing to acknowledge because why would you feel that way? You are the circus freak have nothing in common (shut up)
And then you meet the justice league and all the extended teams.
And people are falling over themselves to listen to a word out of your brothers, your Batmanâs mouth. They wait for a nod or headshake and dictate decades worth of planning on it.
Both Drake and Toddâs hero teams ask him for advice with or without their designated bats presence.
The man of steel asks for child rearing advice and wonder woman cracks a joke about a spar
Newer heroes whisper about him in the halls
Heâs literally your favorite heroâs favorite hero
And itâs breaking Damianâs Brain
Because well⊠he kinda gets slapped around in Gotham. Heâs the butt of half the jokes the other Batkids make and Dick just smiles and takes it.
The rogues have a bounty on nightwings ass and he gets leered at by goons, rogues, civilians and anti-heroâs alike and he doesnât say anything.
He lets oracle crack jokes about a pretty face and having to do everything herself
Letâs Jason run the alley despite the fact that apparently he knows how to take it back
Apparently heâs had 12 people tailing Drake since Paris and despite being the man Raâs Al Ghul calls detective has yet to notice. (Because you canât tell me Dick was just magically at the right place to catch Tim falling to his death on coincidence)
And necessary to peace talks because heâs the best they have at deescalation
Like imagine you are a child who was raised to believe power is this obvious, all consuming thing. That the ones who control the board are visibly larger than life figures who fought their way to the top and cling to power by even the thinnest hangnail if they had to.
People who ignore simpler morals or an overall greater goal or good
And then youâre taken in by the man who whispers the correct answers into the larger than life figures ear.
Like I feel like that would have such an impact because Dick didnât take power from anyone to reach his goals, itâs why his siblings donât really defer to him unless in crisis.
Dick didnât take power, no people just looked at him and decided he was the best option to give it to.
Everyone basically looked at this kid and went, yeah youâre the future of all heroism.
And if that dude canât even get Bruce Wayneâs respect what chance does Damian Wayne have
#dick grayson#nightwing#batman#batfam#damian wayne#Bruce inside his head: wow I love you Iâm so proud of your achievements#Bruce externally: hmmm you were sloppy#tim drake#jason todd#batfamily#comics#bruce wayne#manipulative dick grayson#nightwing is your favorite heroâs favorite hero#donât try me
340 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Five) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Summary: You should have known the âno refundsâ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.
Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post
WC: 7.0k / navigation / inbox
A/N: Thank you all for waiting for this chapter! I know it took me longer to finish this one than it did the others but it's the longest chapter so far, and I also had a lot of major life events go down in the time between this chapter and last. I appreciate each and every single one of you who stayed patient with me, and I hope that this chapter and that the rest to come are worth the wait :) <3
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
Youâre doing a terrible job at paying attention to where youâre going as you take the elevator, jamming your finger against the 12 button so hard it hurts. Pizza is on the twelfth floor, and youâre hoping Daniel will be there early like you so that you can forget about Jake and his tyrannical rule.Â
Itâs clear as day to you; Jake thinks he has control over you just the same way he has control over the girls that drool over him at the Hard Deck. He thinks one glance will melt your brain into mush, but it wonât. It doesnât, and youâre not letting the cockiest man you know believe heâs won you over. Especially one that you work with. If anyone found out- if any of your fellow aviators knew that youâd succumbed to Jakeâs charms⊠youâd risk losing the respect youâve fought hard to earn on the tarmac. Youâre not letting your career take a nosedive because Jake wonât stop bragging about getting his dick wet. He doesnât get a say in your life if he has nothing genuine to contribute to it. You know him well enough to know that caving in and fucking would be the worst decision of your life, and you refuse to let him feel like heâs won you like a prize. Youâre standing up for yourself; if he can shit-talk Daniel, you can shit-talk Miss Melons.
Your skin prickles with annoyance the more you think about the woman that had approached you both- seriously, did she not consider that she was being intrusive and rude? You assume Jake has snagged her away from her roommate by now, and theyâre probably having a better time than you are.Â
Everything feels unfair, down to the coincidental roommate placement. Itâs like the universe had heard you needed a break, and wanted to punish you for it.
Cracking open your book helps, but it takes you a while to get into the groove. Youâre sitting poolside across from the pizza place, eyes glancing from page to parlor every once in a while to check for a certain bearded man. The main lead is compelling, and your stomach soars as you imagine Daniel in a cowboy hat. Youâd save that horse.
Peace is hard to find while sitting poolside on a cruise, but chaos is actually the perfect white noise for you to read, and your concentration isnât broken until a shadow falls over your lounge chair. You glance up, but itâs not the man youâd wanted to see.
âHey.â Jakeâs already frowning, his face apprehensive like he thinks youâll scream at him to get away. You want to, but you donât want to cause a scene.
âWhat, Hangman?â
âIâm not trying to control you.â He pushes despite seeing your gaze back on your book, âI just donât think youâre meant to be with Daniel. But I shouldnât have given you a hassle for doing the same thing to me. I just⊠I do it because-â
He stops short, glancing sideways at a man running despite the clear no running sign on the lifeguard tower. You decide to help him in his moment of need.
âBecause youâre used to women who let you walk all over them. Even if youâre not trying to control me, youâre used to having that control. Itâs familiar for you, so you expect it, even if you donât know youâre doing it. But Iâm not like that. You canât keep me waiting on you.â
The scoff he lets out is accompanied by an expression that looks truly pained, âThat ainât it at all. But forget it. Donât worry about why I do it. I just thought maybe you were doinâ it to me for the same reasons. But never mind. Iâll shut up about Daniel. Truce?â
You glare up at him, book still open in your lap. He extends an uncharacteristically helping hand, and you wait a truly uncomfortable amount of time before taking it and shaking once.
âTruce.â
He takes the chair beside you, stretched out in the sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your reading time is over as his head turns to you, âSo, Dudley showed up yet?â
âHeâs coming for lunch.â You cling to your novel, trying desperately to ignore Jake and his instantly broken promise, âWhat about Melon girl, they werenât ripe enough for you?â
âShe wasnât my type.â He starts, and thereâs a heavy silence before he continues, âI donât like a woman who thinks itâs fun to get between a couple.â
The sideways glance you send Hangman, the âI-told-you-soâ smirk, is lethal.
âAnyways.â He continues, tone more casual now, âFancy a swim, darlinâ?â
âIâll read instead,â You offer, âBut you have fun, Hangman.â
âParty Pooper,â He accuses, standing from the lounge chair heâs occupying and stretching briefly, âYouâre an absolute mood-killer. No fun, the most boring person on this boat.â
âIâm about to be more of one: have you put sunscreen on?â
âNope,â He grins, âYou volunteering to do the honors, you sleazy thing?â
âAbsolutely not. But you can use the stuff in my bag.â You nod at your tote bag, âDonât use it all, though.â
âYes, maâam.â Jake nods, folding into a seat on the edge of the lounge chair beside yours, âSo, whatâs going on in that book, they boning yet?â
âMhm.â You nod absently as Jake begins smearing sunscreen over his arms and legs, âReal sexy stuff.â
âIâve got somethinâ sexier for you.â
âItâs a porn book, Hangman,â You clarify, in case heâs forgotten, âIâm trying to read porn. Leave me alone.â
âThereâs porn right here!â He calls, arms out to show off his impressively tanned and toned chest, a thick layer of sunscreen giving it a sheen that glistens in the light. As reluctant as you are to admire anything about Jake, you canât lie; he has a body worth ogling. But you will not ogle it.
âThis pornâs better,â You hum, glancing up at Jake through your lashes, deceptively inviting, âThis guyâs got a cowboy hat on.â
âIâve got a million and one cowboy hats,â Jake insists, slowly inching towards you and away from the edge of the pool, âIs that really all it takes, darlinâ? âCause I can slap one on in seconds, if thatâs what youâre after. âEven brought one with me in case my roommate was into it.â
âMm, maybe,â You let him get closer, excitement clearly swirling in his eyes as he advances towards your chair. He doesnât notice the shifting of your feet until itâs too late and one is shoving firmly against his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pool.
Thereâs not anyone in his immediate vicinity besides you, so you take the brunt of the splash, but itâs worth it.
âBut I like it better when the hatâs on a real gentleman!â You call, laughter interrupting your words as Jake emerges from the pool well and truly soaked, shaking water out of his hair. Heâs been thoroughly underwater trained, so heâd been able to catch his breath in time despite the surprise of it all, and thereâs no real harm done besides the initial splash.
âYou dirty rotten minx,â He calls, water dripping from his short hair into his eyes, âYou lured me in with the promise of cowboy hat sex just to push me in the pool?â
âI canât believe you fell for it!â Youâre still laughing, but maybe this bout of giggles is only to annoy him, âThatâs, like, the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe besides the cowboy hat sex thing. But you shouldnât have gotten so close!â
He braces his elbows on the wall of the pool, the border surely burning his skin. But he stares at you regardless, âI thought you were finally givinâ in.â
âItâd take a lot more than a cowboy hat to make me give in, Jake.â You laugh, turning back to your book, âLike, a full personality transplant.â
Jake hears Danicaâs words repeated back to him in his head, âShow, donât tellâ.
âNoted. Iâll look into oneâuh those,â He quips, smile sarcastic and empty as he resorts to swimming alone, âHey, when youâre done with that chapter, you should join me.â
âNo.â
âAlright.â
You glance away from the bookâs pages at Hangmanâs unusual, immediate acceptance of your refusal. But he lifts himself out of the water- no stairs, no ladder, only his forearms against the deck, and your stomach sinks as you realize he might be playing a game of wills with you.
Instead, he sits beside you again, this time facing away from you, âWill you rub some sunscreen on my back?â
You want to say no. You would, if he were only asking to feel your hands on him. And maybe thatâs part of it, but you also know that as much as he tans, he could burn, and his back is the only part of himself that he canât reach. Youâd want someone to do you the solid too, so you sigh and set your book aside.
âFine. But you owe me.â
âMhm.â He nods, passing you the sunscreen, âIâll rub it wherever you want, Y/N.â
You whack him upside the head with the bottle, and when he hisses in pain and pitches forwards, you squirt some of the lotion onto your palm and begin applying it to the broad, tanned, muscled expanse of his back.
Youâre no masseuse, but apparently youâre rubbing all the right places, because Jake lets out grunts and groans that are borderline pornographic. If they were coming from anyone else, you might have squirmed in your seat, but each one sends your eyes rolling skywards as you cover Jakeâs skin in goopy sun lotion.
âDamn, youâre good.â Jake grunts as you dig into a knot beneath his shoulder blade, âDo that again?â
âIâm putting sunscreen on you, Jake, not working out muscle tension.â
âOh, come on, just a little more?â He pleads, turning so that he can glance at you from the side of his gaze, eyes shining in prayer.
You dig extra hard into his muscle, and you take some sort of wicked pleasure in the way that his resulting groan is more of a pained yelp than something of enjoyment.Â
âThere, Hangman.â You whack the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, âYouâre all oiled up.â
âArenât you glad you were the one to get to do it?â Jake grins blindingly, and you bury your nose in your book again to avoid answering his question.
âOh, you can stick your face in that book all you want,â Jake drawls, and you hear the displacement of the water he steps in as he lowers himself into the pool, gracefully and by choice this time, âBut I know you liked having your hands all over me, darlinâ.â
You want to gripe something back- something witty and cutting that will tear him down where he stands, but heâs turned away from you, already submerging himself to begin swimming laps. You admire his dedication to exercise even while on vacation- you have no plans to visit the gym in the lower decks.
Jake sees the diving board just as you do, and you keep him in your peripheral vision as he climbs out of the pool to make his way up the ladder. Your novel is begging to be read, but your eyes stick firm on one fitting word- âabdomenâ so that you can watch Jake from the corner of your eye as he prepares to dive.
Fortunately, you donât need to continue the ruse of reading because Jake bellows from across the deck, âY/N, look!â
Youâre met with a grin when you look up at him, his arms raised above his head and joined flush together in diving position, âIâm gonna dive- watch me.â
âIâm watching.â You call, injecting your voice with as much disinterest as you can manage without feeling guilty, âThis feels like babysitting, Hangman.â
He dives instead of quipping back, and itâs an impressive one, not that youâll sing his praises for it. He comes up on the side of the pool closest to you, arms flinging an arc of water onto the concrete before you.
âWas it good?â He asks, panting slightly, hanging onto the wall.
âYes,â You reply, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you condescend to him, âYou did so good, honey.â
âShut up,â He sends a wave of water splashing over your sandals, and you canât be mad at him after all the teasing youâve been inflicting upon him.
âIâve been workinâ on my diving,â He goes back to swimming around, this time more casual as he keeps his head above the water to speak with you, âMy nieces back home are learninâ to swim so Iâve been in the pool a lot lately. Anytime they drag me in there I dive in and splash them.â
His arms cut through the water with strength and ease, confident strokes as you mull over his words. The image of Jake urging a toddler in floaties to cross a 3-foot gap into his arms is- endearing, not that youâll admit it. You hum in acknowledgement, and tuck back into your book.
Thereâs not many people in the pool this early- most are probably still in bed with a hangover and a mess to clean up - and itâs large to boot, so thereâs plenty of room. Your eyes drift left and catch sight of a jacuzzi, and suddenly your beach chair seems to pale in comparison.
Okay, you wonât join Jake in the pool, but youâll relax for a couple of minutes in the jacuzzi. Just until Daniel gets here.
Jake doesnât notice that youâve stood until your chair is empty, and you have a perfect view of him floundering, scanning the entire deck until he spots you half-submerged in the hot tub.
You get to laugh at him again, and he grants you a good-natured grin instead of getting annoyed.
âI thought youâd finally found whatâs-his-name,â Jake swims over to the separation wall that keeps the hot water parted from the cold, âMind if I join you, Y/N?â
âOnly if youâre- careful!â You shriek, trying desperately to protect the pages of your book from his sopping wet skin as he scales the barrier, âHangman, if this book gets wet, youâre replacing it for me.â
âAlright, alright! Iâll take you on a shopping spree, relax. Hey, if Iâm buyinâ you porn books, doesnât that make me somethinâ like a sugar daddy?â
âYouâre not getting any sugar,â You shrug, âBut sure.â
âJust call me daddy, Y/N.â He grins, âThatâs all the sugar I need.â
You hide behind your book so that he canât see the way your face wrinkles into a grimace. The heat from the jacuzzi spreads inexplicably quick all of a sudden, warming your neck, your ears, your face, and Jake lets out a thick, heavy groan as he settles into the warm water.
âThis is nice.â He muses, eyes closed, âReal relaxing.â
âItâs less relaxing when someoneâs talking the whole time,â You peek across the side of your book, âShut up, maybe?â
Jake snorts, leaning his head back against the edge of the pool, âAlright, alright your majesty. Iâll stay silent.â
You donât verbally thank him, but you donât make a scene when his leg drifts across the jet currents of the jacuzzi to brush against yours.
You cover a good chunk of your novel before a voice calls your name, and this time itâs the two people youâd been hoping to see all morning. Danica waves giddily at you and Jake, whoâs picked his head up from where you thought heâd fallen asleep and is already mad-dogging Daniel. You wave back to Danica, and cast a quick glance down at your bathing suit before standing to greet Daniel. Itâs just as tight and showy as you prefer it to be.Â
You pay no attention to Jake where he gets out behind you, too focused on Daniel to care. But perhaps you should have, because youâre two steps from meeting Daniel in the middle when Jakeâs strong arm shoves you sideways, and your book is wrenched from your grasp as you fall sideways into the pool.
Itâs cold, colder even because youâd been soaking in the hot tub. Youâre surprised, but you suppose you canât even really be mad at him considering itâs just payback for what heâd done to you.
Youâve barely righted yourself in the water before thereâs another splash beside you, and when you finally emerge thereâs hands reaching for your waist, Danielâs as you realize heâd jumped in to help you.Â
âYou-!â You splutter at Jake with bleary, chlorine-soaked eyes, attention split between Daniel whoâs trying to ensure youâre alright, and Jake whoâs snickering while holding your book in his thankfully dry hand.
âYou asshole.â Daniel finishes for you, âShe could have drowned!â
âI know how to swim,â You brace a hand on Danielâs chest- startlingly bare, but riddled with coarse, brown hair, âItâs fine, I- I pushed him in earlier.â
âRelax, Prince Charming. Itâs just a bit of payback. And look,â Jake waves your novel in front of you, âDry as a bone.â
âWell I am- uh, not.â You stand half-submerged in the pool, Daniel still holding onto your waist, âSo, I guess I will go swimming.â
âGreat. You can swim with us.â Daniel smiles, warm and inviting as he keeps his hands on you.
âYeah, us.â Jake agrees, taking Danicaâs towel and spreading it over a sunny lounge chair for her.
Jake helps lower Danica gently into the pool, holding her hand while she takes the stairs, before jumping in beside you so that youâre splashed by the wave he creates.
âYou are an asshole,â You laugh, breaking away from Danielâs grip to shove at Jakeâs shoulder. The grins on your faces are bright and genuine, perhaps the first time youâve both been able to laugh with each other the entire trip. It feels nice, and you donât fight when he shoves back at you with strong arms.
âHey- hey!â Danica shouts, standing behind Daniel with a hand on his shoulder, âWhy donât you turn that pushing and shoving into a game of chicken?â
âIâm down,â Daniel seems thrilled to be opposite Jake as he lowers himself for Danica to climb atop his shoulders, âY/N, you okay on his shoulders?â
Jake does the honors himself, dunking himself under the water and coming up between your legs. You barely have time to plant your hands on the top of his head, fingers twisting instinctively into his hair as you accidentally tug it while he stands at his full height again.
âShit, sorry Hangman.â You let go of his hair, hoping you hadnât yanked too hard. Heâs forgiven, for now, so you wonât resort to childish things like hair-pulling.
âThatâs okay, darlinâ.â He grins, craning his neck back to meet your eye, âI like it when you tug on my hair.â
You have to overlook Jakeâs suggestive comment as Danicaâs already reaching for you, and you eagerly engage in a shoving match while the two men beneath you plant themselves into the bottom of the pool. You manage to get a leg up on Danica, and theyâre both pushed backwards by the force of your shove, but Daniel surges forwards and ends up knocking you and his roommate right into each other.
You collapse against Danica, forehead-to-forehead, giggling like little girls. Her eyes are bright and shining with amusement, and her breath smells minty- like gum, not toothpaste. Youâre more than happy to begin pushing at each other again, and though youâre confident your navy-built muscles are going to prevail, she lands a critical shove against your shoulder that throws you off-balance and sends you toppling off of Jakeâs shoulders.
The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jakeâs facing you, having turned when youâd fallen from his shoulders. Heâs grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.
âShit.â He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and youâre trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.
âWould you cut it out? Iâm trying to help you. Your top came untied.â
âWhat?â You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jakeâs hard, toned chest before heâs fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.
âUp,â He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. Itâs- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps thatâs why youâre so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.
âYou decent?â Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly youâre held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly and inexplicably squirmy happens in your stomach.
âDone. I double knotted it.â He hums, and itâs such a sincere tone, one thatâs completely vacant of all his usual dickishness, that you lose yourself staring at his face when he pulls away. You begin examining it for any sign that perhaps he was murdered and replaced with a poorly-trained doppelganger.
His hair looks right, albeit sopping wet. His eyebrows are growing slightly bushier than usual, but nothing youâd consider a complete and total imposter. His nose is still the same: strong, slightly downturned (though not as far as Roosterâs), and thereâs a tiny patch of sunscreen that hasnât been rubbed in near his right eye. His mouth is set in a determined purse as he double knots the strings of your bikini top together, and his eyes- his eyes are different.
Miles different than youâve ever seen them. The outside edge of his hazel-green rings is softened, like someone has blurred their usual sharp border and lined it with suede. His pupils are huge, and theyâd be eclipsing his irises if those werenât so big and puppy-like. He is, in every sense of the word, gentle, inside and out.Â
Jake has never been gentle before.Â
âYou alright?â He asks, and you snap back to reality with his large hands spread over the expanse of your bare back, the eyes that youâd been examining firmly and concernedly fixed upon you. Only a few meager strings separate his skin from yours, and you nod once, steadily as you gently push his arms off of you.
âLetâs go again,â You call to Danica and Daniel, your voice a piss-poor attempt at strength and nonchalance as it lacks its usual life, âGood hit, Danica. But watch out, Iâm gonna kick your ass.â
âBring it,â She grins gleefully, and her giddy gaze drifts downwards to Jakeâs face when he lifts you onto his shoulders yet again. From the looks of it they share some sort of silent conversation- some inside joke that youâre not privy to.Â
Something about that, something about her excluding you from a conversation with your own teammate makes you shove her, not enough to knock her off of Danielâs shoulders, but enough to show her that youâre not going easy on her. She shrieks giddily as she writhes to stay balanced on Danielâs shoulders, a smidge less broad than Jakeâs. Youâre thankful for that, for the steady mount youâve got, as you resume pushing and shoving at Danica.
Jake is going insane. Not only does the phantom sensation of your bare tits- nipples hard from the chilly pool water - stick to him like a wet t-shirt, he can feel you against the back of his neck, your warm sex nestled snugly against him with only the bottom half of your bikini to separate you. Your thighs bracket his head, close enough for him to reach out and bite at, but he has to focus on keeping his stance sturdy so that you can play properly. Danielâs glaring viciously at him across the few feet that separates the four of you, and heâs not going to let Mr. Mailman win.Â
This time, Jake suspects youâve used that military muscle of yours, because Danica slips backwards off of Danielâs dewy shoulders and splashes into the pool. Your hand cups beneath Jakeâs chin, tilting his head upwards and leaning it back into your lap.
âNice one,â He grins upside-down at you, and you bump your fist against his when he offers it. Then youâre craning your neck down, surely uncomfortable as you leave mere inches between your lips and his, and his ears are ringing.
âBack up,â You murmur, disguising it as a congratulatory speech while Daniel helps Danica back onto his shoulders, âGet them to chase us and weâll use the momentum against them.â
âDarlinâ,â Jake proclaims, pride puffing up his chest that your legs are resting against, âYouâre my kinda woman. Always looking to win.â
âJust do it, Hangman,â You scoff, but your eye-roll is less than irritated, fond if anything due to your partnership as Jake drops his head to face Daniel and Danica once more.
Jake stands in place where heâd been before, but when Danica engages with you he begins backing up. Slowly, carefully, ensuring that his feet are planted steadily each step so that youâre not tipped over, he makes his way towards the drop off towards the deeper end of the water. Daniel follows, taking the bait, and soon enough his predicament becomes obvious: heâs not as tall as Jake.
He stands somewhere close to six feet, surely, but not past it like Jake does. Your partnerâs head is still comfortably above water, smirk in full force as Danielâs beard becomes waterlogged.Â
âThatâs not fair!â Danica laughs, petting sympathetically at Danielâs sopping wet hair, âPoor guy, weâll get you stilts for the next round.â
Daniel lands a teasing pinch against the curve of her ass and she shrieks. You lunge for her, using her momentary shock to catch her off guard as you send her tumbling backwards into the water behind Daniel.Â
You donât have time to celebrate before Jake is ducking down and slipping himself out from beneath you, his strong arms bracing your fall so that you barely sink a few feet into the water. He crushes you in a celebratory hug, his laughter harmonizing with your own. He turns you both to face Daniel and Danica as they splutter to catch their breath, his cheek pressed flush against your own.Â
âChicken Champions,â He declares, holding you tight to his side at his own height, which means your feet float above his own in the water, âIâd offer to go again, but thatâd just be cruel. You ladies wanna chatter in the hot tub while Danny-Boy and I show off on the diving board?â
âI brought a book,â Danica hums, face dripping with water you feel only mildly guilty for submerging her in, âIf you wanna read, Y/N, Iâll do it with you.â
âPerfect.â Daniel nods, already cutting through the water on his way to the diving board, âIâll be careful not to splash you guys.â
âI wonât.â Jake supplies helpfully, his grin turned shit-eating as he eyes you up, âNo point in reading one of them smutty porn books if youâre not soaking wet.â
âSplash me and Iâll throw your room key off the side of the boat, Hangman,â You promise, âYouâll be begging strangers to take pity on you in the elevator.â
âNah, thatâs not my style,â Jakeâs voice is dripping with intent while Daniel takes position on the diving board, his swim trunks dripping steady trails of water. You donât know why until he continues, taking his own bait, âIâll leave that to Daniel.â
You blame Jakeâs comment for why Danielâs dive nearly turns into a belly flop. Itâs instantaneous, really, Danielâs changing of posture as he registerâs Jakeâs biting words, and you have half a mind to admonish Jake for riling Daniel up during a dive- that could have ended badly. As it stands, Daniel does a sort of cannonball, though not intentionally, and you and Danica cringe in unison when he lands, sending water splashing well over the divider into the hot tub. Your book remains mostly unscathed- only a droplet of water lands on the cover and obscures the male leadâs face, blurring out his beard and making him appear clean-shaven.Â
Jake is already scaling the ladder, and when he gets to the top he surveys Daniel emerging from the water.
âSix,â He shrugs, sneering down at Daniel from the highest point on the deck, ââCouldâve clinched a seven if you hadnât splashed the ladies, but your form was still shit.â
He doesnât give Daniel a chance to fire back- or maybe the man is just too smart to take Jakeâs bait - before he sets his arms together above his head, and seamlessly, impeccably cuts through the water. For someone so muscular and bulky, his form is graceful- not that youâll ever tell him that. Water arcs outwards from where heâd landed, one half of the splash practically targeting Daniel where he stands watching.
He swims farther, nearly reaching the other end of the pool before he emerges, shaking water from his hair like a dog as he looks intently at you and Danica in the hot tub for a rating.
âTen!â Your reading companion shouts, blessedly unaware of the tense atmosphere- or again, too intelligent to fall for Jakeâs lowly antics- and you look at the water-stained cover of your novel.
You smear away the water droplet with your dry thumb, and the male main characterâs beard returns.
âFour.â You call, voice deadpan as you lock your eyes on your novel, âFor playing dirty and sabotaging the other contestants.â
Hangmanâs grin is open-mouthed and cemented into place as he stands taller than Daniel in the water, tanned skin standing starkly out from the blue of the chlorinated water, âDirtyâs the best way to play, darlinâ.â
Danica shoots you a look from behind the spread of her novel that youâve sent many-a-girlfriend before. Itâs the wide-eyed, restrained smile that screams âWeâre talking about this laterâ, and you mirror her expression with your own disdain.
âLeave us alone,â You call, grinning apologetically at Daniel so that he knows heâs only a bystander, âWe want to read.â
âLetâs leave the ladies to their smut, Dorian.â Jake calls, louder than he needs to be as he stretches to display his toned abdomen and muscled arms, âWe can find our own fun. Wanna see who can swim the fastest? Place your bets, ladies: pilot or mailman?â
âYou swam pretty slow when you crash-landed in the Pacific that one time,â You muse, fighting to keep a smirk off of your face, âI remember thinking you would die in the time it took for you to swim back to shore.â
âWouldnâtâve gone so slow if I wasnât hauling my RIO back to shore. He hit his head on the way down,â Jake dips his head towards Danica, happily regaling her with the tale, and you realize youâve only fluffed his ego more, âSo he was unconscious. Well I couldnât just leave him there, âpoor guy was only a trainee. So I took him along. It did slow me down, but,â He heaves a disgusting, gaudy, fake sigh, âIt was worth it to send him back home to his mama.â
You taste a hint of blood where youâve apparently chewed through your lip. You let it go and hope nothing escapes your mouth. It would be a shame to stain the pages of your novel red.
Youâre trying very hard not to pay attention to Jake and Danica where heâs engaged her in a staring contest. Well, you suppose itâs not much of a contest that she can win: the point is that youâre losing. Jakeâs showing off his impressive build, still running his mouth with every vaguely self-complementary anecdote he can embellish, and Danica is taking the bait, which means that your rampant attempts to cool Jakeâs ego have failed.Â
You let the warm, borderline-hot water sink into your skin and simmer alongside the building irritation that threatens to blow beneath the surface. Youâre tired. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for you- or, if not relaxing, a good way to blow off steam. You were supposed to be bent in half up against the shower wall by now, not bending the pages of your book with the strong grip youâve cemented onto them while you mediate Jakeâs ego and the willingness of so many women to accommodate it.Â
Part of you wants to let loose and have fun- not with Jake, of course. Never with Jake. But part of you wants to act rationally, forget the constant rivalry between you two and let him shack up with whoever will show him her tits first. But the other part of you, the one that cheers every time he places second in a show of skill, wants to knock him down a peg. Itâs why youâre so persistently humbling him- or, trying to, at least. Something about him putting on this cocky persona- erasing all human emotion to make way for pure sleaze puts you on edge, and you pity the fool who believes it.
You canât tell if Danicaâs that fool yet, because sheâs turned back to her book with a smile, but to her credit she doesnât ogle him while heâs swimming. It would be easy to- heâs all tanned muscle and gestures that show off just the right curve or vein. He knows how to preen, but Danica seems to be minding her own business. That makes it easier for you to read your own novel; you donât feel like you have to keep an eye out for her anymore.
Youâre not sure whether itâs a love for the act or a wordless competition to outswim the other that keeps Jake and Daniel occupied with lapping the pool for so long, but as more and more people filter out of their rooms and onto the deck, thereâs not much room for recreation anymore.
âAre you done?â You ask Danica, peering over at her after someone unknowingly sends a wave of water straight for you both, narrowly avoiding soaking your novels.
âI think Iâm done.â She nods sheepishly, rushing to stand and keep her book dry, âShould we run away before the men notice weâre leaving?â
âExcellent plan,â You laugh, but you can practically feel Jakeâs eagle eye upon you as you race for your towel, leaving soaked footprints behind on the wooden deck, âWe should go get some pizza. Theyâre making more now that itâs a little busier out here.â
âYou shouldnât stare like that.â Danielâs irritatingly smooth voice, pitched up slightly from Jakeâs and entirely free of Jakeâs rugged charm, makes Jakeâs lips yearn to curl into a sneer.
Jake pivots in the cold pool water to face Daniel rather unimpressed, a scoff begging to burst from his lips, âLike what?â
âLike sheâs a piece of meat, or something.â Danielâs arms are crossed, and Jake plants his feet firmly against the concrete floor of the pool.
âOh, youâre so virtuous,â Jake drawls, his skin burning and not from the rays of sun hitting it directly, âYou frenched her in an elevator, Daniel, youâve got no room to be talking to me about class.â
âShe wanted me to kiss her. She kissed me.â Daniel insists, and Jake laughs- actually laughs, a grit of his teeth and a forceful exhalation of air, âThatâs different than staring at her ass while she runs away from you like youâd flip her skirt up at a drive-in movie theater.â
âFlipping skirts,â Jake laughs, sadistic grin in full force, âDaniel, Iâm not that old fashioned! Please, sheâs in a bathing suit that she chose, for a sex cruise that she booked, and you know what? She probably wants you to be staring at her ass in it. And you donât seem too concerned with the other people on the deck, Iâm sure a few of them are looking too. And are you worried Iâm looking at Danicaâs ass?â
âYouâre not looking at Danicaâs ass.â Daniel nearly bites his tongue in an effort to keep his voice level, âBecause youâre not interested in Danica. Youâre interested in Y/N and you canât have her. Sheâs not yours.â
âSheâs not yours, either.â Jake spits, and thereâs a moment of silence where both menâs chests heave with barely-suppressed tension. Jake realizes that heâs admitted to Daniel that he has no real claim over you, but the other man doesnât fight back against not having one of his own. But you are his, you are Jakeâs, in the way youâd fallen asleep in his arms last night, in the look in your eyes when youâd stared into his own earlier, in the stain on his pajama pants.
Youâd moaned his name- his name, not Danielâs.
Someone knocks into Daniel from behind, backing right into him and nudging him slightly off balance.
âOh!â The woman shrieks, âIâm sorry! I wasnât paying attention.â
âItâs fine.â He offers her a tight smile, heading for the ladder, âDonât worry about it.â
Jake hauls himself up out of the pool with nothing but his forearms, using his towel to dry his hair if only to show off the expanse of his chest to any who may be watching. He checks- youâre not.
âSo,â Danica leans forwards into your space at the pizza counter, eyes meaningfully wide, âTell me why heâs acting like this.â
âHe always acts like this.â You scoff, and when she levels you with an unimpressed glare, you insist, âNo, really! Heâs just- everything is a competition to him, everything. I met his mom once, and she told me that he used to have races at the dinner table to see who could finish their food first. He kept making himself sick but as long as heâd beat his brothers he didnât care. He always has to win, and right now, heâs competing for us.â
âNo, heâs competing for you.â Danica corrects you, âIs he winning?â
âHell no. Heâs- heâs not really competing for me, not meaningfully. He just wants to say he âgot meâ, you know? That would be major bragging rights on the tarmac. But thatâs exactly why I canât give in- I canât be known as the woman who slept with her fellow pilot! Then they wouldnât see my achievements anymore, just my mistakes.â
âI get that.â She nods, âBut how do you know heâs just gonna dump you?â
âIâve watched him dump the whole of San Diego,â You scoff, âThatâs what he does. He doesnât do love, heâs the kind of guy whoâs only ever interested in something quick and dirty.â
âEveryone does love.â Danica frowns, âSome people just start later in life than others. And I think heâs starting now. With you.â
âLove,â You laugh, and sure, itâs dramatic, but if it gets through to her, you donât care, âA man who loves me would not have tormented me for my entire career.â
She tilts her head thoughtfully, âI think he does. Even if he doesn't act the way you think he should, even if he doesn't act the way you would, I think he does love you. I think he just loves differently. I think he's new to it. What has he done to torment you?â
You huff, grateful for the opportunity to vent, âHe constantly tries one-upping me- again, he canât lose. He just- he pokes and prods and teases me like weâre on the playground or something, and itâs non-stop. Itâs not like heâs sweet most of the time and then thereâs a few bouts of light teasing, itâs- itâs constant, and I canât ever let my guard down, or Iâll lose.â
âSo youâre fighting to win, too.â Her eyes narrow slightly, âWhy?â
âBecause. I can't be second-best, and I canât be known as the woman who slept with her coworker. Iâm not doing that.â You repeat.
âOh," She laughs, "So you're both stubborn. You don't want to lose, either. But second-best is temporary, rankings come and go. And I understand your thing about not wanting to be known for sleeping with him, but even if you did sleep with him, the whole Navy doesnât have to know.â
âThey will, Hangman will brag. He always brags.â
âHe wonât- not if heâs in love with you, not if you want him to keep it private.â
âHeâs not in love with me-!â
âFour slices of Pepperoni, two cheese?â A large tray is placed between you and Danica at the counter youâre both leaning against, and it snaps the two of you out of your debate.
You turn to see one of the employees looking expectantly at you, and Danica stammers, âUh, three cheese.â
âSorry.â He smiles placatingly at her, scooping another slice onto the plate, âThree cheese.â
âThank you.â You take the pepperoni pizza, leaving Danica to collect the cheese. You feel bad for walking away, even if you know sheâs hot on your trail, but you feel frustratingly suffocated, like everyone is urging you to make the biggest mistake of your life and never considering why you simply canât. She doesnât know Jake, she hasnât spent the last decade with him as heâs blown his way through tourist after tourist, bragging all the while. And he doesnât understand what it would be like- even if he wasnât looking to win, even if he did just want to try casual sex for fun, youâd never be able to escape that reputation.Â
You feel like youâre going crazy, and you plop down between Jake and Daniel where they sit at opposite sides of a table, ready to stuff your face with pizza instead of dealing with any of it.
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin blurb#jake seresin oneshot#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin fic#hangman#hangman x reader#hangman imagine#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#hangman fluff#hangman blurb#hangman oneshot#hangman drabble#jake seresin drabble#jake seresin x reader fanfiction#hangman fanfic#hangman fic#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin imagine#hangman x reader fanfiction#jake hangman seresin fanfic#glen powell x reader
238 notes
·
View notes
Note
I am binge reading your work and I love your Price characterisation so much! Can you please go into detail what you his childhood looked like and what led him to be this angry, stubborn man who is fixated on saving the world at all costs
this is basically a reinterpretation of opening Pandora's box but instead of releasing great evils, it's just me yapping non-stop about John Price whenever i get the opportunity. but i cut a lot out because it was getting too long, so this is a brief summary on what made John Price the way that he is;
re: abuse (physical, mental, emotional; of authoritative power).
Nepo-baby. Born into Military Royalty. The Price name has a lot of sway in the government. Probably lived in Hereford going up before moving to Liverpool at 18. Realistically, Price has no other career choices because I can't see Mr "threatens to hang superior officers" sitting in a cubical and expected to hit quotas without catching several charges for assault and battery when his temper gets the best of him. And it always does.
His homelife was bad (but absolutely nothing compared to Simon's). His dad was just a staunch disciplinarian groomed by the traditional values of 40s-60s England. The typical "father works to provide for his family all day and then comes home to quiet, respectable children neither seen nor heard with food already on the table waiting for him and a wife that only speaks when spoken to and only ever to agree with her husband (and a lil bit of female "orgasm"????? by god! they've brought witchcraft back to the land of her Majesty the Queen!)"
He has an angry, uncompromising father with a temper and a mother who says thinks like, "well if *you* didn't make him angry, then you wouldn't have gotten yourself a black eye."
His dad was very physically abusive to both of them. Price really tried to stick up for his mum, but that would just set his dad off even more. And afterwards, his mum would just side with his dad, anyway. But on the flipside, I think she expected Price to protect her. So when he didn't (because he's a literal child!!), she'd get angry. But she obviously can't lash out like her husband or even her child, so uses the only weapon she has to gain some semblance of control: manipulation.
Price takes pieces of both his parents. His father, the physical aggressor, and his mother, the manipulative victim. And she is a victim, very much so. But I also think she pits them against each other. Gets bored. Causes issues. But there's power in getting someone to do what you want, and that's how she takes hers.
Price catches on to her in his early teens, but that's still his mother. Even though they have a very rocky relationship, she's still the Victim in his head, even when she's whispering in his dad's ear about all the things she despises about her son. And then going to Price (after his dad does something about it - again: disciplinarian, control freak) and playing the pitiful mother subjected to her husband's tyranny and a sad, weak son who can't do a single thing to protect her when she needs him.
Price learns to manipulate from her. Emotional blackmail. Victim-complex. Gaslighting. Scapegoating. But the biggest takeaway is the way he shifts the victim-complex into heroism (esp with Gaz). They can't be the bad guys. It's a logical fallacy in his mind. They're the ones saving the world, and if the world wasn't so riddled with bad guys, with people who need projecting, then they wouldn't need to do what they do.
I think Price has a bit of animosity towards people he sees as weaker (re: his mum having to share the victimhood with her son). But this animosity can also rear as obsession. He's the only person who can save you/them/the world. And since you/they/the world can't save yourself, then you should just listen to him.
And if you don't. Well, that's going to be a pretty big problem.
Honestly on the fence about siblings. If he has any, it's probably an older sister and she's either the equivalent of Janice Soprano (minus any of the backbone and ambition) or Barbara, resigned to her life and utterly forgetful. but I kinda like the idea of him not having any siblings to weather the storm with, you know? Like, it's just him and a mother who victim blames and ignores, and he gets the brunt of his dad's anger.
He was an obnoxious kid to be around. Probably really tried to impress his dad by adopting all of his values; baby misogyny, bite-sized authoritarianism, military fiscalism/militaryâindustrial complex, militarism, etc., before realising (earlyyyyy teens) that he hates his dad and everything he stands for (but I'm a SUCKER for letting Price suffer and I love cyclicity and generational trauma so naturally, as much as he tries to run from the ghost of his dad, it still lingers - just in different ways; the worst thing you could ever say to Price is, you're just like your father).
Turned into a moody teen in the 80s/90s. His anger is a hair trigger. Utterly uncontrollable. But by this time, he learned to hide it because his dad's way of idealing with trauma was to add more. Therapists are pseudoscience, so he taught Price that men just bury these things. And if you can't, then you should be put down like a dog.
The assessment of a man's character was entirely based on the military tests he passed. And with Price's anger, trauma, he probably shouldn't have passed the evaluations, but since his dad, his grandfather, his great-grandfather, were all military dogs, he learned how to beat it. He's also really good at manipulating people.
I think between 16-17 there was a real attempt to do something that wasn't the military and I haven't decided which one I like better but:
He gets a job (as a port worker or in a factory). The Price name has no sway here (and baby Price grew up surrounded by people who knew his family, who revered them for their service to the country, etc). If he wants to make it, it has to be by his own merit. The problem is, while he's a hard worker, his trauma (men who remind him of his father, women who are too much like his mother) causes an incredible rift between him and authority.
If his boss is a man just like his dad, then Price is a match in a tinderbox.
If he isn't, to Price (who has only just learned to hold his tongue), the idea of a nobody being in a position of power over him will also set him off.
Either way, he's doomed.
If he man is a beast that no one can stand up to, and gets away with things because he's the boss, then Price's temper would flare pretty quickly. Especially if he comes after Price. Bullies him. Belittles him. But the worst is the humiliation. He ends up beating his boss very badly, terrifying the men around him but in their fear, and how quickly they listen to him because of it, Price realises he likes it. That fear can be weaponized. Honed.
Or: same situation, but if you lean more towards Price looking out for the underdog rather than his own self-interest, then he sticks up for someone and beats his boss to protect them. Everyone's still afraid of him, but they revere him. They do what he asks. This version, he realises that respect can be weaponized.
(and if the man is not like his dad, then Price will antagonise him into action. He'd throw the first punch, and Price will retaliate. It would still go too far, but - Nepo baby, weaponized fear: the outcome would be the same.)
He gets taken into custody. The tell him his boss is not going to make it. But Price's dad exercises every ounce of power to get his son out of trouble (because this will look very bad on them), and Price leans several things which shape him as an adult: his name has a lot of power; rules and regulations and just policing won't stop bad people unless you take it into your own hands once and for all, and people listen to him and that either version of the above can be weaponized.
He'd probably take the military a bit more seriously but only because he's trying to get vengeance for himself (even if this is subconscious and he doesn't realise it). He leaves at 18. Joins. And climbs the ranks higher than his dad.
At first, there's a concerted effort to do good but something cracks. Builds. Eventually Price comes to the conclusion that he'll have to take a more hands-on approach and get them a little bloody if he wants real change.
I have a lot of thoughts of military-dog Price. But!! That's basically it.
Shaped by physical, mental, emotional abuse; leans into the poor rich kid trope slightly. It all manifests more when he climbs the ranks, gets freedom, and realises that only he can do what needs to be done.
#his complex relationship with his mother (the one i made up inside of my head)#is also why i cannot see him as a brat tamer#he wants the opposite of his mother and a brat is just not that#ahhhhh anyway!!!! thank you letting me yap!!!#john price#john price headcanons
198 notes
·
View notes
Text
They talked about this before it started, that if it got to be much for anything, they would talk about it. Steve would understand. He always did, especially since he was afraid himself. Eddie's panic attacks were happening more frequently, and what happened over spring break was still fresh in everyone's minds. It was difficult for Eddie to breathe, and Steve knew it was coming, and Eddie did too. They could feel it when they touched, kissed, and fucked. They were already mourning a relationship that was never supposed to be serious in the first place. The next morning, Eddie told him that his band wanted to go on the road.
"I figured," Steve said, picking at his blanket.
"You're not mad?" Eddie asked.
"Of course not," Steve said. "This town is killing you, Eddie, I couldn't ask you to stay."
"You could ask," Eddie shrugged.
"You wouldn't say yes, and I wouldn't want you to resent me for staying," Steve said.
"You could come with me," Eddie said.
"You know that I can't leave the kids until they graduate," Steve said.
"And I can?" Eddie asked.
"Yes," Steve said. "You want to go. Do you want to go?"
"I do," Eddie said, swallowing thickly.
"I don't want to hold you back," Steve replied.
"You could never," Eddie said and paused. "I suppose you really can't have it all. You're right, I suppose I can't stay. I know I should have said. . .but I guess you could already tell. This town is killing me and not even you - which is crazy because you're Steve fucking Harrington. You're the most beautiful man alive. Inside and out."
Steve pulled him into a deep kiss, pouring everything he had into it. He could taste salty tears on his tongue. He couldn't tell who was crying more. Steve pulled back with a gasp.
"Eddie, I - " Steve closed his mouth and said nothing.
The next day, they said another goodbye, this time in front of everyone. It wasn't nearly as intimate. No one knew they were fucking. They had still been figuring things out about themselves, and Eddie hadn't been quite ready to label himself or tell anyone. Steve couldn't even tell Robin. The day after Eddie left, Steve took off to another bar outside of Hawkins. He couldn't go to the Hideout, too many memories, and he couldn't explain to people why he was drowning his sorrows. Steve was having a lot more difficult time than he had thought he would, and he respected Eddie's choice but it was killing him that he was gone, that there was an empty spot in his bed. He couldn't even tell Robin why he was so heartbroken. The best thing about this bar was that it was attached to a motel, so he was planning on getting drunk and finding his way to the room he rented. Of course, that's where he met Tiffany, who was just as heartbroken as he was. . .
"Steve, Steeeeve," Robin sang.
"Ugh, Robin, go away, my head is killing me," Steve said.
"Yeah, that's probably because you drank half the motel bar," Robin said.
"How are you here?" He asked, burying his head deeper into the pillow.
"You gave the girl you slept with my phone number, and you told her to let me know if you accidentally died," Robin said.
"I'm not dead," Steve groaned.
"No, but you look it," Robin scoffed. "You're going to need to check out soon."
"Where's - " Steve asked, looking up. "Tiffany?"
"Yeah. She left," Robin said.
"That's probably good for her," Steve said. "Ooh. I'm going to puke. Yeah, no, wait - yeah, I'm going puke."
He slipped out of the bed, butt naked, and ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach.
"Jesus, what the hell? I thought you were done with one night stands?" Robin asked.
"I just - yeah, I mean, I was but then - FUCK!" Steve yelled and then he burst into tears.
Robin frowned and grabbed a sheet of the bed, tossing it over him. She cleaned his mouth, sat on the floor, and pulled his head into her lap.
"Steve?" Robin asked. "I know you and Eddie have gotten close, but I didn't think you'd be this upset that he left. Jesus, how are you going to handle me going off to college? Shit, I put my foot in my mouth again, didn't I? Was that a little insensitive? Steve?"
"I'm in love with him," Steve sobbed, and then everything came pouring out. "I'm sorry and shit, I think I need to apologize to Eddie because I shouldn't have told you."
"Hey, hey, slow down. I think he'd understand," Robin said softly. "There's a lot to process here. I'm sorry, babe, I should have known."
"It's not your fault," Steve said. "I'm just so stupid."
"It's not your fault either," Robin said. "It was just a sticky situation for the both of you. And if you ever call my best friend stupid again, I'm going to beat you up. Only I'm allowed to call you a dingus, okay?"
"Okay," Steve said and laughed.
"Come on, let's get you home. . .dingus," Robin said.
Steve smiled. She always said dingus like she was saying I love you. God, she was his best friend.
"Dingus," Steve said, and Robin laughed.
"You're so drunk," she giggled. "Come on, Popeye."
It was a difficult time for Steve over the next few months, even more difficult than when he got over Nancy Wheeler. Maybe because he had allowed himself to be more vulnerable than he ever had with Nancy, and maybe in doing so, he had fallen harder for Eddie. With Robin's help, he was able to move forward. It helped that he had sold and moved out of his parents' place. They didn't think he could sell the place, but he proved them wrong. And with the money, he was able to tuck a lot of it away and move into a comfortable two bedroom apartment, an apartment that he was allowed to decorate however he wanted. After nearly a year, he was in a good place when things decided to turn upside down again for Steve. We'll, roughly 9 months later, to be a little more precise. . .
"Oh my god! I can't believe you forgot to buy me my favorite chips! After I came all this way to visit you!" Robin yelled.
"If you would move stuff around, you'll find them!" Steve exclaimed as he set up the movie.
"Oh, there they are! I knew you still loved me," Robin said.
Steve rolled his eyes as Robin came into the living room, her arms laden with snacks. She unceremoniously dumped them on the table.
"I'm glad you were able to pull yourself away from Vickie long enough to visit me before heading back to Chicago," Steve said.
"I can prioritize between the romantic love of my life and the platonic love of my life," Robin said.
Steve and Robin snuggled into each other, their matching pajamas firmly in place, as they settled in for the evening. Just as they were about to start the movie, Steve got the phone call. Robin watched as Steve could only give one words answers before finally putting the phone back down, his face pale.
"Steve?" Robin asked.
"We're going to have to cut the evening short," Steve said.
"What? But we've been planning this evening for weeks - "
"Robin, I'm a dad."
They drove to Indianapolis, where Tiffany had given birth, and now they were standing in the nursery, staring at the swaddled baby right in front of them. Tiffany had already left the hospital by the time they arrived.
"She's so tiny," Steve said breathlessly.
"And pink," Robin said. "She doesn't have a name yet. Do you have any ideas?"
"I - I don't know," Steve said.
"Do you want to keep her?" Robin asked.
"Yeah, I know it's crazy, but I want her," Steve said as he took her hand in his, letting her tiny hand wrap around his finger. "More than anything."
"You think of a name while I take your credit card and go get some supplies for your little chicken nugget," Robin said, squeezing his shoulder. "You're going to be a great dad."
Robin pressed a kiss to his hair, cooed at the baby, and then quickly left them alone. Steve watched his daughter wiggle in her blanket and listened to the noises she made, her little tongue darting out every so often. He watched as her brow furrowed in confusion. It must be so confusing to come into this world, not knowing who you are, where you are, and taken from the only place you've ever known. Steve placed a hand on her chest.
"It's okay, I'm here," Steve whispered, and he smiled when she calmed down a bit.
"You can pick her up, you know," the nurse said.
Steve almost jumped. He forgot he wasn't alone in the room. A friendly faced hispanic nurse was there, chuckling at him.
"I know, I just don't want to - she's so small," Steve said.
"Every good parent is afraid of dropping them," the nurse said. "Come sit over here."
Steve sat down in the rocking chair and watched as she picked up his daughter. He glanced at her name tag. Sofia. She placed the baby carefully into his waiting arms. He gasped in delight, the feeling of holding her overwhelming him in a very good way. Was he crying?
"Thanks, Nurse Sofia," Steve said.
"She looks good in your arms," Sofia said.
"She feels good. Feels right," he muttered. "She's so wonderful. Hey, there. I'm your dad. I know, it's crazy. Don't feel intimated by my hair. You're bald now, kiddo, but it'll grow. . .and even if it doesn't, I'll still love you. . .oh, I'm suddenly terrified. I am going to mess her up."
"Hush, you're going to be fine," Sofia said.
Steve watched as the baby's head started to move around, as though she was looking for something and she started to whimper.
"I think she's hungry," Steve said.
"See? Your instincts are already kicking in," Sofia said.
Steve smiled. Sofia reminded him of both Claudia and Sue. Oh, speaking of them. . .they're going to freak when they find out Steve made them grandmothers. Sophia left to go the formula and came back with it pretty quickly. She showed him how to hold it so the baby wouldn't choke.
"Thank you," Steve said. "I really appreciate it. . .oh, she's really going to town. Yeah, she was hungry."
"She goes after it like my four boys did," Sofia said.
"You have four boys?" Steve asked.
"Oh, yeah, they're a handful, but I love them. Supposedly, girls are easier, but I think that's bullshit," Sofia scoffed.
"Oh, girls are just as much of a handful. I babysit a group of teenagers," Steve said.
"Then you have some practice under your belt," Sofia said. "I always thought that if I had a girl, I'd name her Elizabeth. Never happened, but I'm happy with my boys, more than enough for me."
"Elizabeth," Steve whispered.
"Does that name mean something to you?" She asked. "It sounds like it."
It was Eddie's mother's name. He remembered him talking about her all the time, how she died when he was six, and how he got his love of his music from her. Eddie always wished he could have had more time with her.
"Elizabeth," Steve whispered to his daughter, and he smiled.
"Elizabeth Robin?"
"Of course, I named her after you," Steve scoffed.
"Oh my sweet little baby bird," Robin cooed. "I can't believe I have to go back to school soon. . .as her godmother, shouldn't I get like godmaternity leave?"
"Yeah, I don't think they do that," Steve said.
"Well, they should," Robin said.
"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Steve said.
"If you love your child, you would," Robin said. "By the way, Tiffany left you a letter at the front desk. They gave it to me."
Together, they got Elizabeth into the car seat and then into the car with Robin in the driver's seat, bringing her home. . .
Dear Steve,
I hope that night meant a lot to you as it did to me. I wanted to face you and tell you so many times, but I'm kind of a coward. I think we were both very heartbroken that night, and I hope you found the same comfort in me that I did in you. It gave the courage that I needed to face who I truly am.
I feel like something greater than ourselves brought us together that night. I was just a mere vessel. . .I know you wanted to be with someone else. You called out their name, and you said it like a declaration of love. I wasn't meant to be a mother, not yet. This isn't my baby. I hope that everything works out and that you feel it as much as I do. I was glad to help you and be a part of this journey. Don't wait too long to be honest with yourself.
Sincerely, Tiffany
"A mere vessel? What the hell does that mean?" Steve asked.
"Fuck if I know."
A YEAR AND THREE MONTHS LATER. . .
Eddie scowled, his ear pressed to the phone, as Dustin went on about Steveâs new special girl in his life. How many times did Eddie have to say that he didn't want to hear about it? He swore that Dustin's ears were only there for decoration.
"Yeah, yeah, that's great that this Liddie person likes Robin more than you, but I need to tell you something, and you can't say anything to Steve," Eddie said. "You can't say anything to anyone."
"Ooh, a secret, lay it on me, and by the way, her name is - " Dustin started to say.
"Okay, whatever. I don't care. I'm surprising Steve and coming home for his birthday," Eddie said.
"Oh, shit! He'll love that. He's missed you like crazy. We all have," Dustin said. "If you get in late, make sure it's before 7 because that's when he puts her to bed."
"He gives her a bedtime?" Eddie asked.
"Of course, he does! It would be completely irresponsible to let her go to bed whenever she wanted to. She needs a schedule, Eddie," Dustin said.
"That sounds a little controlling, but okay," Eddie said.
"Well, what time would you give her?" He asked.
"I wouldn't give her a bedtime at all!" Eddie shrieked.
"Eddie! You can't do that!" Dustin exclaimed.
"Look, just don't ruin the surprise, okay?" Eddie asked before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone.
Yeah, he was definitely going to win Steve back because, honestly, this new relationship of his sounded a bit messy, and Steve deserved better than that. How much trouble could this girl be that she needed a bedtime? She has to be the one that's trouble. . .right? Steve Harrington couldn't have lost his way. There's no way he would have turned to the dark side after he left. Either way, Eddie needed to intervene.
"Okay, okay, you can do this," Eddie breathed.
He looked at the address written on the piece of paper and checked it again. He was in the right place. He didn't waste any time after visiting with Wayne. Steveâs apartment was his second place to visit. Eddie took another deep breath and knocked on the door.
"Coming!" Steve yelled, and then he heard muffled laughter from Steve. "Lizzie! Stop barking! You're not a dog! I'm going to have to talk to Robin about teaching you that."
Steve opened the door, and he nearly stumbled back at the sight of Eddie. Steve was wearing sweats and an old t-shirt of Eddie's. . .to Eddie's delight. His hair was longer, and he had quite a bit more scruff to him. Eddie was also pleased to see that he was wearing his glasses.
"Hey, Stevie," Eddie said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Eddie," Steve breathed.
They've talked on the phone and written each other letters but it was definitely better seeing each other in person.
"I wanted to surprise you for your birthday," Eddie said. "Surprise!"
"My birthday isn't until next week," Steve said in amusement.
"So, I came early," Eddie said, and then he smirked. "It's not like I haven't done that before. . .but then, you know that."
"Eddie," Steve scolded, but he was smiling and blushing. "Come on in."
"Don't mind if I do," Eddie said, stepping over the threshold. "So, where's this girl of yours? . . . Liddie? I want to meet her."
"She's in the living room, and her name is Lizzie," Steve corrected, laughing. "Come on."
Eddie followed behind Steve, enjoying the view as he did so. When he walked into the living room, all he saw was a playpen with a little girl inside. Was Steve in the middle of babysitting?
"I don't see her," Eddie frowned.
"Lizzie's right there, Eddie," Steve laughed, pointing at the crib.
"Oh my god! Steve!" Eddie yelled, appalled.
"Uh?" Lizzie asked, looking up from chewing on her teddy bear.
"Yeah, I know, I have a daughter," Steve said. "Surprise! Although, I thought you knew."
"A daughter! Oh, oh, thank god!" Eddie said, clutching his chest.
"What were you thinking?" Steve asked in confusion.
"Uh, never mind what I was thinking," Eddie said, blushing. "So, a daughter, huh? How old?"
"A year and three months," Steve said proudly.
"Oh, wow," Eddie said with a grin.
"Yeah. Time flies, and it seems like only it was only yesterday that I was in the hospital with her. . .holding her for the first time," Steve said.
A year and three months. Eddie looked at the kid. She was cute with curly brown hair and big brown eyes. Apart from that, she looked almost exactly like Steve. Eddie chuckled. It almost looked like they had a baby together. A year and three months. A year and three months?! Eddie did the math in his head. They had sex right before Eddie left, which meant that Lizzie would have had to have been concieved sometime around there. Lizzie. . .Elizabeth. . .oh, after his mom?
"Oh my god," Eddie whispered softly and grabbed his arms. "Steve. . .Steve, is she mine?"
"Eddie," Steve said slowly. "I want you to really think about what you just said."
"I am thinking about it! I'm thinking about you going through all that alone!" Eddie exclaimed. "You had to deliver her without me there to hold your hand!"
"Eddie, I didn't - "
"I'm such an idiot! I never should have left, I mean, I could have toughed it out a few more years!" Eddie shrieked.
"Eddie, I swear - "
"Oh, my god, and even though I wasn't there for you, you still named our daughter after my mother," Eddie rambled.
"If you would just stop for a minute and listen - "
"Steve!" Eddie said, grabbing his arms. "Was it the bat bites? Because I slept with a guy like a month ago, and it was only because he was wearing a polo like you! I also slept with a girl. . .she had hair like yours! Can girls also get me pregnant?! Do I have to take a pregnancy test?. . .Lizzie, sweetheart, I think you're going to be a big sister!"
"Arf! Arf!" Lizzie barked.
Eddie bent over, putting his head between his legs as his mind spun around in circles. He felt Steve grab him and drag him into the kitchen. Steve yanked off his vest and jacket, tossing them onto the counter. He turned on the faucet, grabbed Eddie's head, and shoved it under the water. Eddie shrieked.
"Okay! Okay!"
Steve turned off the water and let him up. Eddie scowled as he rung out his hair.
"Are you done?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, thanks, I needed that," Eddie said.
"Lizzie is not your daughter," Steve said.
"She's not?" Eddie asked, with wide eyes.
"Okay, with you looking at me like that, I kinda regret saying that," Steve said with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Eddie."
"No, fuck, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left," Eddie said. "I think I just regret doing that."
"Eddie, this town was suffocating you," Steve said. "You needed to leave."
"Did I, though?" Eddie asked. "Wayne managed to tough it out here."
"You need to stop beating yourself up for reacting to a bad situation that was out of your control," Steve said.
"I regretted the minute I left, but I was already out there on the road with the boys," Eddie said. "I loved it, but I think I might have left my heart behind here."
"You want to stay?" Steve asked.
"If you'll take me back," Eddie said.
"It's hard to say no when you're looking all sad and wet like that," Steve said.
"I want to stay anyway, even if you don't want to take me back," Eddie said.
"I have missed you every single minute of every single day," Steve said. "I haven't stopped loving you or hoping we'll find our way back to each other."
"I love you," Eddie whispered.
"I love you, too," Steve said.
Eddie grabbed him by the waist and kissed him. He felt Steve smiling into the kiss, wrapping his arms around his neck. He pressed Steve up against the counter, melting into him like butter. He broke the kiss, crossing to press thousands of tiny kisses all over Steveâs face. Steve giggled and pushed him back.
"Will Lizzie's mother have a problem with this?" Eddie asked.
"Oh, she's not in the picture. Hold on," Steve said.
He left and came back to Eddie, putting his hair into a towel. He handed Eddie a letter.
"What's this?" Eddie asked, sitting on a stool.
"The day after you left, I went to a hotel bar, drank it, and met a woman who was just as heartbroken as I was," Steve said. "We slept together and nine months later, Lizzie was born."
"A mere vessel," Eddie cackled after reading it. "I like her. She sounds like me."
"She also looks like you," Steve blushed.
"Okay, so we went the long way around, but we got here," Eddie laughed. "She is my daughter."
"What?" Steve asked.
"In every other way except biologically, Elizabeth is mine. I mean, you even named her after my mother," Eddie said.
"Yeah, I did do that," he blushed.
Eddie pulled Steve in between his legs, wrapping his arms around his waist. He studied his face, drinking in every inch of skin, every mole. . .God, he loved this man.
"Steve Harrington, if you want me to, I want to be your baby daddy," Eddie sighed.
"I do," Steve smiled.
Eddie flashed his dimples and smacked Steveâs ass.
"Well, introduce me to our daughter, big boy," Eddie said.
Steve laughed and pulled him up off the stool. Holding his hand, he pulled him down the hall. Eddie stopped him before pulling the towel off his head and fixing his hair. He straightened his shirt.
"What are you doing?" Steve asked, his hands on his hips.
"I want to look good," Eddie said, and then he gasped. "Steve, what if she doesn't like me?"
"Eddie, she barks like a dog. She's going to love you," Steve said.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Eddie asked, and Steve just shook his head.
Eddie followed Steve into the living room, where Lizzie had moved onto a cloth book. Her little tongue was out as her little finger traced the words as though she was trying to teach herself how to read. Eddie smiled. She glanced up and smiled at Eddie then at Steve.
"Dada?" Lizzie asked and held her hands up towards Steve.
Steve pulled her out of the playpen and put her on his hip. Holy fuck, Eddie thought, he looks totally hot.
"Lizzie, this is Eddie. He's going to be your other Dada," Steve said.
"Dada?" Lizzie asked, confused.
"You get two!" Steve exclaimed, pointing to himself and then to Eddie.
"Two Dadas!" Lizzie clapped.
"Wow, she caught on quick," Eddie said.
"Yeah, she's smart. I'm still not sure how much she understands," Steve said.
Lizzie leaned over Steveâs arms and reached towards Eddie. He grinned and took Lizzie into his arms.
"Hi," Eddie whispered.
"Hi," Lizzie said.
"Hi."
"Hi," Lizzie said, and then she giggled.
She reached over and started licking Eddie's cheek. Eddie cackled.
"Yeah, we definitely should talk to Robin about this. She can't go around licking people," Eddie giggled.
"Dada! Dada! Dada!" Lizzie shrieked as she bounced on his hip.
"Ooh! I wonder - ," Eddie gasped.
"What are you thinking about?" Steve asked.
Eddie set Lizzie on the floor and sprawled out in front of her.
"Okay, can you raise your little fingers like this?" Eddie said as he raised his pointer fingers to his head to make horns.
Lizzie blinked at him. She reached over and grabbed Eddie's hair.
"Ah!" Lizzie screamed.
"No, baby, no!" Eddie said while Steve laughed.
Eddie eventually guided her gently and got her to make little horns while sticking out her tongue. It wasn't perfect, but she managed it with Eddie's help. Luckily, it took Eddie long enough for Steve to get a camera.
"Good job, daddy," Steve said.
He leaned down and kissed Eddie. Lizzie shrieked and pushed Steve off Eddie. She scrunched up her face at them before hugging Eddie.
"No, Daddy, don't do that," Eddie laughed. "That's gross. . .Thanks for saving me, baby."
"I ordered dinner. . .Are you gonna stay the night?" Steve asked.
"I'm going to stay forever," Eddie said as he hugged Lizzie to him.
After dinner, Eddie happily helped Steve give Lizzie a bath before throwing a colander over a flashlight in Lizzie's room to make stars. He laid down on the floor with Lizzie curled up between him and Steve, her eyes getting heavy.
". . .so I opened my eyes and wondered if I was floating. I realized a moment later that a beautiful man was carrying me out of hell. He was begging me to stay with him, and I did want to stay with him, but I didn't know why. He spent the next few weeks taking care of me, and I spent the same amount of time trying to fight the fact that I was falling for him, a man. It wasn't until the town had run me out that I realized I was in love with him. When I came back, I realized I never wanted to leave him again. . . That man, of course, was your daddy. So, the next time I go on the road, it's going to be with you and your daddy in an RV. Your daddy is going to be playing obnoxious music, so I apologize in advance."
"Hey, your music is not obnoxious," Steve said.
"I was talking about yours," Eddie grinned.
"Hey!" Steve exclaimed, slapping his chest.
"Shh! Steve, our daughter is asleep. . .what is that sound?!"
"Yeah, she snores," Steve said.
"My god, that's the loudest sound I have heard from someone so tiny."
"Hey, Eddie," Steve whispered.
"Yeah?"
"We're a family," Steve said and Eddie leaned over Lizzie's head to kiss him.
" . . . And they all lived happily ever after. . ."
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#bi as hell bi the way#robin buckley#lesbian robin buckley#robin & steve#platonic stobin#platonic with a capital p#platonic soulmates#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes#rueleigh's thoughts
167 notes
·
View notes
Text
Another 'wonderful news' from Russia for your consideration! This week, the BRICS forum on traditional values took place in Moscow. And it was fucking insane.
In short, the opening meeting was BRICS countries representatives verbally jerking off on how well they oppress or plan to oppress their people especially women. The only person who bothered to contradict this narrative was Egyptian female writer Doha Mustafa Assy.
I will translate some quotes from the russian article. https://www.kommersant.ru/doc/7311174
Russia: "At some point the roles for women have begun to change towards independence and self-sufficiency. We, of course, love and respect our women very much, but we want them to pay more attention to their families, men and children. We do not want them to strive for business, politics, economics, power, or culture. <...> The main traditional value is the preservation of natural purpose, where a woman continues the family line and a man inspires her to give birth to children."
Pakistan: "Any traditional religion upholds and promotes social values and traditions. No father would want to harm his family. No mother would want to break up or disintegrate her family. This <rejection of family values> is deliberately imposed on us and promoted by some power circlesâ
Ethiopia: "In our country it is traditionally women who do the cooking, teaching children and other family duties. So the man's role is not as big as the woman's, and this tradition gives the man the freedom to behave like a child." (?????)
Uganda: [This country experience is âextremely important to the discussion of legislative protection of religious values,â emphasized russian politician Dmitry Kuznetsov, referring to the fact that in Uganda same-sex relations are prohibited, and in some cases violators face life imprisonment or even the death penalty.] âWe did this to make sure that the country would be preserved. I would encourage countries to behave in such a way that the culture that exists in each country is not imposed on others.â btw Brazil and South Africa representatives didn't say a word here even though their countries legalized same-sex mafrriage years ago.
Brazil: "Marriage in no longer a goal for our citizens and the country has the highest divorce rate in history. Meanwhile, children are most often left with their mothers, with fathers unwilling to take part in their upbringing. As a result, many Brazilian boys are growing up without a father figure and 9% of male inmates in prisons don't even know their father's name. Shifting the balance in favor of women leads to the fact that the position of feminism is growing, and the number of people who identify as LGBT people is growing.â At the end of his speech, he marveled, âThis is my first time in Russia, and I didn't know you guys were so conservative. I'm so happy, it's so impressive!â He also admitted that âthe people of Brazil know nothing about Russia,â and Dmitry Kuznetsov promised: âWe will come to you and tell you all about our saving conservatism.â
Egypt: As I mentioned in the beginning the only person who actively argued against this trend was Doha Mustafa Assy. She said: "We on the contrary has a struggle against patriarchy. Tradition and religion are not on women's side, they help men. A lot of women in Egypt ask for divorce only because they feel like slaves at home. He (the husband) has the right not to let her leave the house according to tradition. BRICS is India, it's China, it's Russia, it's Egypt. We are very different. And maybe what you are trying to do in Russia has already became a problem for usâ.
To be honest I don't know what will come out of this forum. Maybe it's just empty posturing, maybe BRICS countries just sent people who had free time on their hand here as a formality. But I despair reading these quotes; twenty years ago we sent a singing duet posing as lesbians to Eurovision; ten years ago I was watching lesbian drama Blue Is the Warmest Colour in a full theater. Soviet Union gave women some attempt in an equal rights in fucking 1917 and we were the first country to send a woman in space. What happened? How has it turned this way? We are now friends with some of the most patriarchal countries in the world and with fucking North Korea. They are planning to remove the Taliban's terrorist status.
What the hell.
118 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.
Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.
"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.
So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.
He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)
One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.
"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.
Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.
He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.
"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.
"Logan.."
"No."
"Logan-"
He shakes his head. "Don't care."
"...She's missing."
He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"
"There's a little girl missing."
"So?"
"Logan!"
"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.
For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.
He never did.
"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"
The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'
".. You find her then." He compromises.
"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."
He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"
"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.
The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"
"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.
"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"
Shit.
"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"
Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."
"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."
Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.
He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."
"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"
"No! I mean... I donât want any help from THEM.."
"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"
"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..
#search and rescue#find her au#old man logan#old man wade#scott summers#what if#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson#deadpool#wolverine#deadpool 3#deadclaws#logan wolverine#worst wolverine
114 notes
·
View notes
Text
I feel like for Laura the reason sheâd like Worst Wolvie so much isnât because he reminded her of her Logan but because he didnât pretend to miss a Logan he didnât know.
See because the timelines and universes are all fucky, my HC is that 10005 doesnât have a Logan of its own but the that Logan (2017) was only known by Wade bc obviously and maybe the X-men because they had some dealings with the multiverse as well. And basically the idea of âThe Wolverineâ is what people idolize more than the actual man.
So when Laura goes to live in the X-mansion she has a hard time coping with the fact that none of the X-men actually knew Logan. None of them actually met him. None of them knew his real name was James or that he talked in sleep, or that he was a sad alcoholic who wanted nothing more than to die in his last years but they all talk about him like he was this BIG HERO. This savior of a world, this bastion of virtue etc etc. And it hurts her that these strangers are talking about her dad like they knew him when all they knew was the stories told through a filter of heroism.
And yeah sure her dad was a hero in some respects but he was also a person, just like her and hurts that even in death he loses his humanity (even though itâs not necessarily negative this time).
Whatâs worse is when they ask her if sheâs proud of him for dying like he did. Or worse, do you think heâd be proud of you for helping a version of himself?
So I think she like Worst Wolvie because he doesnât have any kind of pretense of what a Logan should be. And because yeah he doesnât remind her of her dad because in some ways he is but he doesnât pretend to know her, he tries to get to know her and sometimes it makes her sad that he doesnât know things but at least heâs not pretending.
And more importantly he doesnât pretend he knows anything about her dad and so when asks: Do you think heâd be proud of you?
She doesnât feel angry and or awkward and actually she feel comfortable enough that she cries a little bit (probably the first time sheâs cried in front of someone since her dad died) and says âI donât know.â
She doesnât know what she expects but when Worst Wolvie says (after a little while), âI think you do.â
It almost sounds like her dad and it only makes her cry more but not because sheâs sad but because for the first time since her dad died she thinks he might be right and damn does it feel good to cry.
Worst Wolvie might not ever replace her dad but he doesnât pretend to have known him and over time (because remember theyâre going to live a long time) he might even get to know her well enough that she might not remember the difference between the two Logans. It would almost be like the universe giving them both a second chance at having a family. And she hasnât decided if thatâs sad or not yet but in time maybe sheâll have a dad to help her figure it out.
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
So, I have this wacky Javert & Cosette detective agency AU idea that Iâll probably never writeâŠ
Post-Seine Javert starts a private detective agency â reuniting loved ones, shutting down extortion rackets, stopping forced marriages, things like that. He doesnât make any money because he fails to collect payment on the rare occasion heâs not working pro bono. [Very Angel Investigations, sans vampires ⊠unless?] The work is both penance and its own reward.
Bored of social calls and society dinners, Cosette decides to help him in his work. Javert refuses her, but she keeps showing up. She proves herself useful, as no one ever suspects her of being a double agent, sheâs clever, and she can cry on command â which is an incredibly effective distraction. Since Parisâs underworld is already familiar with him from his previous profession, Javert has had difficulty making progress on some of his cases. But Cosette is entirely unknown. Grudgingly, he allows her to help on his smallest, safest, most respectable cases. Which rapidly escalates into her running the place. Heâs really not an ideas man.
There are capers! Escapades! Daring rescues! A heart-warming Christmas episode!
Valjean and Marius are given to believe that Cosetteâs time is spent volunteering with ladies aid societies. When the truth comes out, Valjean is apoplectic, and itâs the first real risk to his relationship with Javert (well, post Seine, haha), especially when Javert makes it Cosetteâs choice whether to continue. Mariusâs anger burns out much quicker; that boy is nothing if not easily led.
Meanwhile, Montparnasse has filled the leadership vacuum left by ThĂ©nardier and has made great inroads in the Parisian organized crime scene. With Javert foiling many of his more lucrative business interests, Montparnasse decides itâs time to deal with with him more permanently...
Other odds and ends for this âverse:
Javert accidentally adopts some urchins when he attempts to cultivate them as informants, but they keep showing up like stray cats when they realize heâll feed them.Â
Having heard it in her tenderest years, Cosette quickly picks up the accent and argot of the street and becomes a mistress of disguise.
She also purchases an umbrella with a stiletto hidden in the handle, which she mostly uses to underline her better rhetorical flourishes.
Whilst Javert is not an easy man to like, Cosette appreciates his honesty. Granted, that honesty is couched in the most pessimistic, condescending and insulting way imaginable. But after her father and her husband gaslighting her for years, itâs a relief to not second guess the information someone gives her.Â
They both appreciate having someone to commiserate about Jean Valjeanâs idiosyncrasies with. âYou know the way he clears his throat when he disapproves, but wonât say he disapproves â and if you ask him if he disapproves, heâll deny it?â âI know it very well!âÂ
After Jean Valjean is finished being furious, he moves right on into being jealous. He wanted them to get along, but not quite this well. He of course would rather eat glass than admit it.Â
Also, as many of les amis survive as I can reasonably get away with. Definitely Courfeyrac, because I like him. Probably Bahorel, in case they need some additional muscle when working a case. And Joly because theyâd need someone with a medical background to identify the cause of death/provide medical aid. Also no one should die with a cold, talk about insult to injury.Â
Anyhoo. Everybody lives happily ever after with a gentle â90s TV glow. Fuck you, Victor-Marie Hugo.
#I just think Cosette & Javert would be a very interesting dynamic#cosette#javert#les miserables#les mis
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello hi friend (@knight-says-nanana) recently made this post referencing our conversation on Jervis Tetch having Wonderland nicknames for everyone but with actual Meaning to it, and I am here to share my List of them
Edward Nygma/Riddler - Dormouse
Not only could he physically resemble a dormouse (Shorter, they tend to have reddish brown/Orange coats I think?), but again, it's more about the sleepiness. The Dormouse is depicted as asleep/Always falling asleep, and only really waking up to correct Alice. Jervis's likely first or longest first meeting with Ed would be in Arkham. Arkham, where his cell has been shown to have "Keep sedated" on it
Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow - March Hare
A hare matches Jon's aesthetic. Long gangly creepy looking bunny. Typically depicted with straw on his head. It's cute if Jervis refers to him as "My dear Hare". March Hare and Hatter are friends!
And also the Hare is routinely depicted as nerve wrecked or delirious, and in adaptations, often dies or suffers
Harley Quinn - Queen of Hearts
The red and black look, the cards aesthetic already there. Plus, Queen of Hearts is childish, bad tempered, quick to overreact, very feared character (Also has a mallet). And also rarely Actually executed people. This one does play on the negatives more, due to the fact she's an antagonist (More obstacle for Alice to clear) But the queen Does have some better traits
Selina Kyle/Catwoman - Cheshire Cat
Obvious, only major cat themed rogue, but Does have deeper implications. Cat dissapears often and without a trace, seemingly or literally invisible, can go places most do not dare to. And also friendly with both the protagonist and antagonist characters. Inherently chaotic neutral force. It does what it wants for it's own entertainment. It may like Alice and act sorta as a guide sometimes, but that in no way means it sticks on her side
Hugo Strange - Gryphon
Somewhat overbearing, dismissive of the obsession and Sorrow of other characters, says they have no fact. Orders around Mock Turtle. This may not fit the greatest, but I like it
The Batman - The Jabberwock
Some unknown and all around feared cryptid? Yeah makes sense
Oswald Cobblepot/Penguin - Dodo
Flightless bird depicted with a cane. Odd, but good natured. Mostly. Does try to burn down a house as a solution to Alice being stuck in it. Organizes the Caucus races. The Dodo character/Races are meant as a critic on systems that lack clarity and decisiveness, who's actions are ultimately unhelpful or pointless
Now there are a couple I'm not entirely sure about yet. It's actually suprisingly hard to make everything fit well
Victor Fries/Mr. Freeze - White Rabbit
Because. He. Y'know. Is running out of time? I do like this one, mostly cause it's a lil funny to me. And also Freeze is mostly only an antagonist to work for his goal, the Rabbit is only "antagonist" Because he has to work for the Queen
Basil Karlo/Clayface - Mock Turtle
Melancholic, sad that it's no longer a real turtle/Just a turtle
Pamela Isely/Poison Ivy - King of Hearts/The Flowers
She is So hard to pin down. I could say Kimg of Hearts to match Harley (Moderate, calm, the one that pardons the subjects, calms the queen, later revealed just as juvenile and willing to execute), or, I could go with the flowers to match her vibe. I really do not know
Waylon Jones/Killer Croc - Jabberwocky/Duchess
Kinda hate both of these for him. Jabberwock because. The obvious. Duchess kinda due to starting off nice to the queen, then transitioning to friendly and respectful with Alice. Major temper (Nervously agressive) but not inherently bad even though she starts/Is Queen aligned?
Harvey Dent/Two Face - Tweedle Dee & Dum/The Walrus & The Carpenter
Tweedle Dee and Dum seem like the obvious answer but I kinda hate it so much. It doesn't feel like it fits and kinda feels insulting. Nothing Truly fits Two Face. Walrus and Carpenter is the closest I got. Walrus (Two Face?) The leader, conniving moocher, con man, yet hopeful of the future. Carpenter (Harvey?), believes getting an honest job will be better, still goes along with the plan, acts before he thinks, quick to anger
Joker - King of Hearts/Knave of Hearts
King to match Harley but also I dislike most adaptations so mm. Knave because he's a coward/j
#i am so insane about hatter#i could do him better#we could do him better#stop making him an incel/creep/pedo it does Not fit the story he's emulating#jervis tetch#mad hatter#mad hatter dc#edward nygma#the riddler#jonathan crane#the scarecrow#harley quinn#selina kyle#catwoman#hugo strange#batman#oswald cobblepot#the penguin#mr. freeze#killer croc#clay face#poison ivy#two face#dc#batman rogues
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
aang finds the mystery airbender in yu dao.
looking for the mystery airbender (whom toph had dubbed 'scruffy') wasn't what he'd came here for, but when he'd heard a rumor about an underground fighting ring, he had to come check it out. it was a weird place to find an airbender, but toph had been adamant that the guy was probably a regular on all kinds of circuits.
toph's description of him had been, understandably, vague. a little taller than sokka, but probably not much older. probably had short hair. uses dual dao. on the scrawny side. she'd heard someone say something about a scar once?
so when a swordsman wielding dual dao and sporting a nasty facial scar had stepped in to the arena, aang had leaned forward and paid close attention. his opponent was a firebender, who called themselves the scorcher or something, but he didn't really care about them. they'd introduced the swordsman as 'the blue spirit' which was a baffling nickname given that he was wearing mostly brown.
the fight started- and aang felt giddy.
they were an airbender. he wasn't at all familiar with the techniques he was using- but then, he was using airbending to supplement his sword skills, which wasn't exactly a technique he had cause to be familiar with. the airbenders he'd grown up around had never really needed to be so... well. aggressive, he guessed.
and the blue spirit was very much that.
he dominated the match- it was over in short order. aang felt some of his initial giddiness leave him in the process. he didn't like the look in the blue spirit's eyes- or that grin. he knew toph loved fighting too- and he didn't judge her for that (mostly)- but it was a little different to see it coming from an airbender.
as soon as the match was over, aang sprang to his feet and tried to follow the blue spirit. he must have realized he was tailing him, because he shook him off, disappearing after rounding a corner. aang jumped on a nearby roof to search for any trace of him, but he was just gone.
then he felt the swords against his throat.
"avatar," the blue spirit hissed, "-what do you want from me?"
aang held his hands up in surrender. hey, hold on. he didn't follow you because he wanted to fight you mister blue spirit sir. the blue spirit asks why he did then, and aang just frowns. if he knew he was the avatar, shouldn't the answer to that be obvious?
"you're an airbender," aang said, "-right?"
he swears he can hear the blue spirit roll his eyes, but at least he releases him. don't go spreading that around, he tells him. he also tells him has no interest in talking with him. if you're looking for another air nomad, you're in the wrong place. aang just frowns, and really looks at the blue spirit.
he looks almost... fire nation, he thinks. the burn scar is a nasty one, that took up no insignificant part of his face. it tugged at something in the back of aang's memory. like he was supposed to know this particular scar from somewhere, but where he was supposed to know it from was eluding him at the moment.
"but you're still an airbender," aang says, "-i thought i was the last one."
the blue spirit tells him he wants nothing to do with him.
it stings. he's finally found another airbender, and they're not at all what he was hoping for- and even worse, they don't even really seem to want to talk to him. the blue spirit takes a step back and makes it clear in no uncertain terms that he doesn't want to be followed, and aang forces himself to respect that.
(it's only after he describes the encounter to his friends, that it suddenly clicks why he feels like he should know that scar from somewhere. it's the one iroh had described to him- the one that belonged to a young man he was desperately trying to find now that the war was over.
his nephew.
no, aang thinks, no way. that can't be right. it has to be a coincidence. it's not like the missing prince of the fire nation- ozai's son- can really be an airbender, can he?)
youâve done firebender/waterbender/earthbender/nonbender/avatar zuko, so what do you think of air bender zuko?
an excellent question!
love the idea of him existing in stark contrast to aang- they're both airbenders, but they're clearly on two very opposite sides of a spectrum. zuko realizes for himself just how much danger he would be in if anyone found out he was an airbender, so he successfully hides his bending- even when his father calls for a farce of an agni kai after he speaks out in the war meeting and burns his face and banishes him.
he still gives him the quest to find the avatar, but things go a little differently this time. zuko searches the air temples diligently for any trace of the avatar- but it's a lot harder for him to ignore the clear signs that history may not have actually played out like he was taught when he's an airbender too. one day he wakes up in the middle of the night with the realization that he doesn't want to go home.
he steals away in the night, not even telling his uncle.
he decides to actually start practicing his airbending, which basically just translates into him making it all up as he goes. in order to make money, he ends up participating in underground fighting tournaments- first just using his dao, and then quietly incorporating his airbending alongside them. inevitably rumors spread of a 'surviving' airbender, and that attracts all kinds of attention.
zuko doesn't care. he's having the time of his life actually.
(he is in fact, not having the time of his life. this is very much a maladaptive coping mechanism. but he's very good at fooling himself into thinking otherwise.)
he never stays in one place for too long, and is constantly on the move. there's always a new place for him to fight. sometimes he does a little light theft. he's definitely fought toph once or twice, who only actually realizes that he was probably an airbender after she meets aang- who is both thrilled to hear about another airbender and is deeply confused by the way toph describes him.
he doesn't understand. his people are supposed to be peaceful.
(zuko isn't one of his people, of course, but he has no way of knowing this. toph's the only one who has ever met him and she's well. blind.)
he winds up completely sitting out the entire war. he just doesn't care. post-war aang spends a lot of time trying to track down this rumored airbender after the war- and also prince zuko of the fire nation, iroh's nephew who went missing about a year into his banishment.
clearly these two tasks are unrelated, right?
#aang asks iroh about it later and he just gives him a long thoughtful look#the young man you met may have very well been my nephew young avatar#zuko's great-grandfather was avatar roku he says. on occasion those in an avatar's bloodline can be born bending a different element#welp. aang thinks. guess he can't respect the blue spirit's request to be left alone after all.
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
something Iâve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I donât think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldnât have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasnât because he didnât feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone elseâs. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldnât allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasnât, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isnât immune to feeling despair, heâs just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think thatâs why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous âoh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind itâ or âhe can do better than that. heâs so weakâ or âcome on, thereâs no way heâd fall into despair, heâs the Ultimate Hope!â This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didnât feel despair the same way ânormal peopleâ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasnât doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just⊠was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more âgung-hoâ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junkoâs unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesnât all rest on Makoto, heâs just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, itâs clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.
âBut⊠this world is so huge, and weâre so small. What can we doâŠ? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!â
#makoto naegi#Danganronpa character analysis#Danganronpa#danganronpa thh#danganronpa future arc#I fucking love Makoto Naegi man.#I think thereâs a fine line of nuance to Makoto thatâs easy to miss bc he doesnât really make it known#heâs not a pushover and heâs not overpowered. heâs a people pleaser but he will say what needs to be said#heâs an immovable object and the exact opposite of Junko but heâs also just a normal guy whoâs optimistic and (un)lucky#he isnât invincible but he has immense power to his words the same way Junko did#if anything his superpower is being kind above all else. heâs compassionate to some of the worst people in the world.#he was even conpassionatr to an extent to Junko. he didnt want her to kill herself despite everything sheâs done#and he still acknowledges that for years she was a classmate and friend.#I do think the more he learned abt what she did the more heâs come to actually hate her though#post the first game he always refers to her without a suffix to her name which is one of the most subtle rude things you can do#it means you have zero respect for the person youâre referring to#and he speaks about her with some venom he doesnât use for anyone else in the future arc#heâs not incapable of feeling negative emotions#I really liked the future arc scene bc it showed that Makoto DID experience enough despair to have overcome him if he didnât refuse#and that it still affects him deeply. people treat him like heâs either this perfect ideal Chad or this baby chick whoâs so delicate#and no one really focuses on how makoto shoulders so much and yet is still vulnerable.#honestly that guy was DUE for a mental breakdown even without the tape. it would have happened eventually#I actually wrote one based on him finally hitting a breaking point after giving so much of himself away and keeping nothing for himself#that his issues that he shoves down constantly finally canât be held down anymore. Hajime helps him bc he knows how that feels#it was a LONG time ago that I wrote that but honestly if I can remember where i was going w it I might finish it#it was initially an rp but I could make it a fic#anyway. the point is Makoto is SO much more complex than people give him credit for#the most fundamental thing about him is that heâs normal and thatâs ok! thatâs what helps him rise!
70 notes
·
View notes
Note
[same auditory lover anon here]
hi again! đ„°
yes, i know exactly what you mean about the autiomaa mv, it's because this man is so multifaceted, and he is always so effortlessly sexy, even when the topic is heavier. especially in this mv, he is just captivating⊠the dim lights, his outfit/ makeup/ tan, those extreme closeups of his piercing eyes, or his lipsâŠ
now about s=m my god how i love his angry yelling growling rap style đ that was the one thing i was hoping we'd get in the new album
i honestly thought that nothing could ever top him growling "i'm on fucking fire" in rock rock for me (obscene behaviour btw, that's when i first knew i'm a fan). but damn⊠s=m really caught me off guard, both with the aggressive part's lyrics and his delivery
it's the fact that he knowingly does the daddy thing seriously, because it's a rare occasion that he uses a spot on american accent (eg compare it to how he's pronounced "sugar daddy" as a joke in the past). subconciously this tells me "hey don't get it twisted, this isn't a joke, i'm serious about it"
but what really gets me is his rhythm in this verse. his rap here is not fast at all, but it's very sharp and it builds momentum. almost like he is determined to make a clear point. idk if this is going to make any sense at all, but to me each one of these five lines feels like the equivalent of the gesture of a hard spank, not only lyrically but musically too -basically he raps and i hear spanking
hey look! turns out i had many more unhinged things to say! đ
Heey âșïž
I totally agree with everything you said. Him growling "Daddy" is definitely not a joke. He really believes it, he knows it, and he's making it crystal clear with that deep, intense growl so there's no mistaking it.
I totally see your point about the spanks too. It's his way of demanding attention and ensuring we're listening, showing he's not messing around but is dead serious. Every verse one impact, emphasizing his words and making sure we're catching everything he's saying. Also, at the end of each verse he repeats the last word, almost like he's drilling it into your mind đ
I'm having so many thoughts about this and none of them are in the Bible. His deep, growling voice has me on my knees, hair pulled back in a ponytail, promising that I'll behave and be a good girl for daddy⊠đ
I'm definitely adding this song to my playlist of KÀÀrijÀ songs I'd fuck to
Also, thank you Anon for these asks đ„° they're really making me listen to these songs from another perspective and think about a lot of new dirty things!
#ask#your asks made my day thank you so much#don't hesitate to send more i'll be reading them with the biggest smile on my face :D#also i love how these asks turned into analyzing his songs in a horn knee way askjdfk#i have nothing respectful to say about this man and the way he and his songs make me feel#kÀÀrijÀ#people's champion#spicy
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Both Nobara and the blonde witch (Momo?) make good points about the role of women in this Jujutsu society. Momo points out that power is not enough for them, that that which is good enough for men isn't for women, that they are held to higher standards, and for them scars aren't badges of honour as they are for men, but make them undesirable and damaged goods.
And then there's Nobara, pointing out those are sexist standards one doesn't have to adhere to, that it's on them for playing by the rules and having those exigences in mind. That she likes clothes and looking pretty, but for herself, she doesn't expect it from others or respect more someone who does as well if they don't want to, like she likes Maki but dislikes Mai. And she too is right! It's true that adhering to those exigences perpetuates the standards! But what she says doesn't negate what Momo says, which is the fact that, yeah, okay, it sucks, but that's how it is and not playing by the rules just makes everything harder. And harder still for someone like Mai (or Maki) to whom perfection isn't just the goal, but the very starting point being people from one of the main clans. So she can understand and defend Mai's position and approach to the problem, as Nobara understands and defends Maki's.
This all gains layers of complexity and juiciness considering Momo and Mai are Utahime's students and Todo's classmates. I am sure the manga won't go there, but wow is it intriguing how Utahime's situation may have influenced their views. What a pity the manga won't go there
#On the other hand perhaps Gojo's flippancy could have further reaffirmed Maki and Nobara on their own ideas#Gojo is flippant and does as he wants and they see that's proved to be convenient for them#For them as women for them as people without Cursed Energy and for them as people that are considered akin to a curse like Yuuji#Momo says that and she has Todo as a classmate. Todoâ powerfulâ feared well respected scarred Todo. And she has Utahime as a teacher#Utahimeâ mocked for being weak. Utahimeâ kept in the dark about the old man's awful plans. Utahimeâ scarred#It adds so many layers and it's so intriguing. It also adds another context to Utahime's dislike for Gojo#and her passionate way of reacting to his teasing. He's probably just teasing but he also often takes it too far#And perhaps for him it's nothing but to Utahime it has implications#Anyway... I love now even more that Utahime is well loved and respected by her students#Especially with those students being Todoâ a Kamo guy and this Zenin girl#What a pity WHAT A PITY that this manga doesn't dwell more on the actual characters and especially secondary characters#Because this whole thing is soooo juicy and Utahime could be that deep#JJK in general is such a shame. Constant source of wonderful charactersâ dynamicsâ concepts and topics all to end up being mainly nothing#Mainly nothing more than a few long fights#*sigh* I could have really really loved this#Really what a waste of potential. I am so sad all the time haha#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
you know if we do accept the last epilogue-esque sequence as a sort of dream/wish of ted's and therefore not necessarily canon, very funny if we then simply go "yeah, trent's book is called 'the lasso way' actually. he didn't change that. nope."
#listen on one hand#i think that like#i don't think ted actually changed trent's mind about the title#i think trent changed it because ted asked him to#and like that's especially interesting bc he even made a point of being like#'tell me if you disagree with anything and i'll tell you why you're wrong'#but he respects ted; more than that he likes him and he wants him to like the book--like him#anyone else and trent would have told them to fuck off but ted? ted asking him to change the title? yeah#i think he didn't agree with 'it not being about him'--and not bc of any feelings he may have for ted--but if we accept that him changing#the title is canon then like. he did it because ted asked. nothing more nothing less#maybe he felt he owed it to ted as the subject of the book; maybe he just respected him too much not to#maybe it's partially bc of his feelings; maybe it's because he just couldn't say no to ted#but it's ultimately just. because ted asked him.#and trent respects him; trusts him; cares about him#and that's pretty heartwrenching#but like on the other hand if we say 'no that was ted's wishufl thinking trent definitely went 'sorry ted it's called the lasso way''#also like.... him being like. like quietly not changing it and if ted said something him just. being like#ted. i respect you. i care about you. i trust you. but with all due respect absolutely not#yes it isn't ONLY about you but YOU made this happen. YOU are special and YOU have a place here whether you can stay forever or not#yes it's about the team and the coaches yes you aren't a one man band but ted. TED. you touched lives. you changed lives. and that was YOU.#that was you and your philosophy and your attitude.#you made richmond what it is today. yes the team deserve credit too for the kind of bond they have now but YOU facilitated that#none of the coaches currently here woudl be coaches if not for you. the diamond dogs wouldn't exist. literally every single one#of our friends--OUR friends--wouldn't be where they are and probably wouldn't be as happy#you got through to people over and over again who were hurting and lashing out. to rebecca. to roy. to jamie. to nate. to me.#and you can be humble but there's being humble and there's acting like you don't matter to any of us like you didn't have an impact#like you can just leave without a trace. we don't blame you for leaving--i especially don't--but acting like we won't miss you and like#your time with all of us--our time--meant nothing is more insulting than it is humble because we /love you/#and yes. it was the goddamn lasso way that built this place#this community.
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ep 4 :)
#I LIKE Dostoyevsky. I like how mysterious and unreadable he is. What is his goal!!!! Why does he do what he does!!!!!!! He's very cool#I think knowing his ability now REALLY adds to his character. Him being so smart so manipulative so disruptive in the way heâ#seemingly kills people on touch! Only added to this impression of him being âdemonâ and âinhumanâ#But now that we know his ability you realize... That's all his doing; no ability.#His ability in a way does help humanize him by reaffirming that except for the moment he diesâ he's got no superpower at all!!!#It's just him.#And yet at the same time also solves the exact opposite role of dehumanizing him because if it's not his ability that makes him like *that*#then he's even different than other ability users!!! Thenâ if not an ability userâ if not a non ability user: what is //he//?#It's all SO compelling!!! Also makes for an extremely insightful narrative parallel with Dazai#Not an ability user not a non ability user. Not good not evil. (I feel like Dostoyevsky does exceed the definitions of good and evil asâ#much as Dazai does. If he causes evilâ yet does so with the intention of bringing salvation to humansâ is he really *simply* evil?)#Both have these borderline superpowers that make them extraordinary beings (we can call it super intelligenceâ but it goes from controlling#their own heartbit to everything else) but are unrelated to their respective abilities! Once again making them neither this or that#I find Karma's words at the end to be extremely insightful.âAce was evil for sureâ but this man isn't even evil.#He's a being from the beyond. A being that exceeds human limits.â Like!!! That's all that there is to it!!!!!!#Back to this chapter / episode. There's some themes / worldvies once again I don't agree with but narrative wise I think it's extraordinary#I feel like after the Guild arc the writing really matured a lot and this is a kind of preview of what the doa arc is going to be like#(aka very very well written especially if compared to the previous arcs)#The plot twists of this episode are all so unpredictable and exciting!!! I think it's remarkably witty how it takes advantages of previousâ#clichĂ©s - villains always revealing details about their own ability in a way that is quite baffling - to actually surprise the audience.#It's so effective. How skillfully unpredictable Dostoyevsky is to the point you can never guess what he will do next!!!#Him killing Karma is... Idk so so soooooooo interesting. I could talk about this forever but I'm being very dispersive in the rable andâ#running out of tags. The whole episode you're sorta rooting for Dostoyevsky. He's very cool and comes out charming in the way he keepsâ#surprising the audience. He looks bothered by Ace's disregard of other people's lives and that makes him sympathetic too.#But then he kills Karma out of nowhere and it's an âAh! You fell for his lies tooâ remember he's nothing but evil. He cares just as little#about life as Ace doesâ. And then??? Karma in his last words is himself so generous in his words to Dostoyevsky. It's baffling.#And it almost feels like thenarrative is once again turning around and telling you you should root for Dostoyevsky.#It's endlessly fascinating.#I have more to say about the worldviews I don't share and the art style Dostoyevsky was portrayed with this episode (love it!!)#But alas ran out of tags
7 notes
·
View notes