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unbridgeabledistances · 4 years ago

Note

ian + mickeys neck (was thinking of the drunk ian fic and wondered if you would be interested in pursuing this idea further?) <3

anon i am CRYING thank u so much for this!!!! i have been feeling like i need to make my contribution to the “mickey’s neck” discourse for a while lmao and this is my opportunity (esp bc ian holding mickey in the 11x12 stills wrecked me)

in the spirit of following up 11x10 i decided to write this based on an amazing post @mickey-millagher made/a prompt that @pombby sent me about ian teaching mickey to swim at a public pool during lockdown at some point early s11- i hope u enjoy<3

(this is the tiniest notch steamier than what i usually write but it isn’t smutty fyi- tw for descriptions of choking😌)

There was no one at the park— the air hung heavy and humid over the empty picnic tables and wooden benches that punctuated the fields of dying grass. As much as people on the Southside were definitely not taking any part of this lockdown shit seriously, it didn’t surprise Ian how silent the public park was— there was still a scarcer number of people out on their stoops or lounging on street corners this summer. Ian guessed that the few people who didn’t think that this was a hoax realized that this COVID shit was serious enough that they couldn’t afford healthcare if they got it, or whatever— but regardless, that meant that this Southside summer was weirdly stagnant somehow, and felt different from the noisy and crowded rhythms of summers past.

It was the late morning, just as the air started heat like a convection oven as the sun rose over the skyline— and Ian had his heart set on teaching Mickey to swim today. The conversation had come up last night at dinnertime, when Debbie was complaining about the heat wave— and they had all started reminiscing about the rickety, tin-sided pool they used to put up in the backyard years ago until Carl had taken a hatchet to it when he was 11 when he was trying to tear it down. Sitting next to Mickey at the kitchen table, thighs pressed where their chairs were scooted close together, Ian had suddenly remembered his words from their road trip to the border, years ago now:

“You could try swimming across the border.”

“I never learned how, man.”

And he’d immediately opened his mouth, not catching the words before they moved from his brain to his mouth, and asked Mickey in the middle of the dinnertime chatter: “Hey Mick, did you ever actually learn to swim?”

It was funny, and arbitrary, and stupid; they were married now, but for some reason this small fact about Mickey, the fact that he used to not know how to swim and by now he might have learned without Ian’s knowledge, made something warm pool in Ian’s stomach. He’d known Mickey, and had been itching to be closer and closer to him, for a full decade—and there were still so many things that he didn’t know. And this was proof, this question that Ian still didn’t have the answer to about some weirdly fundamental aspect of Mickey’s identity— he was always going to want to keep asking things about Mickey. And he was always going to get to.

Mickey had looked him with daggers in his eyes, then flickered a defensive glance at all the smirks growing on Ian’s siblings’ faces. “Fuck you. I was doing plenty of other shit in Mexico, didn’t really get the chance to lounge on the fucking beach.”

Ian had reached under the table and placed a hand on Mickey’s knee—a peace offering, an apology for whatever Mickey-can’t-swim quips Carl and Lip would inevitably think up as a low blow the next time they all butted heads at breakfast time— but as the chatter about backyard pools and heat waves continued at the dinner table, Ian felt an idea stirring.

Which is why the next morning he’d woken his husband up by pressing a tender kiss to his jawbone, both of their skin damp and clammy from the heat in the stuffy bedroom, and whispered into his neck:

“I wanna try something today.”

Mickey’s mind had immediately veered in… other directions, his eyebrows raising in vaguely disappointed disbelief when Ian had explained his idea to go to the public pool and teach Mickey to swim with an exuberant grin on his face; but after some very enticing morning persuasion that had a lot to do with the fact that Mickey was still half asleep while Ian had pressed kisses down his spine and dragged him out of bed and handed him a pair of swim trunks, now they were at the public pool in the nearest park at midday, with Ian leading the way and Mickey dubiously and sleepily straggling behind him.

Ian slid open the lock on the chain-link fence that surrounded the pool, the same pool that was usually crawling with groups of teenagers smoking weed and toddlers in floaties who were sticky with melted ice cream on a summer day like today. And maybe he was just all hopped up on nostalgia, but Ian was feeling cheerful— there was a lightness to the blinding summer sunshine, radiating through him as it pooled on his skin, that made him feel weirdly exhilarated and giddy about teaching Mickey to swim in this grimy Southside pool, just because he could.

“I still can’t believe you never learned how to swim.” Ian said it over his shoulder as he strode through the gate, holding it open for Mickey.

Mickey just flipped him off, following behind him and setting down two towels and the 6-pack of beers he’d grabbed from the fridge as they’d shuffled out the door minutes before. Ian grinned. He knew the beers would be warm and syrupy in minutes—the air was muggy and humid, without any hint of a breeze for relief. Ian could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of his t-shirt; he peeled it off as he walked over the sunwarmed concrete towards the pool’s edge, crumpling the shirt and throwing it on top of the pile with the beers and the towels. Mickey was hesitant, not following Ian to the border of the water just yet.

“Seriously. I can’t count the number of times I was shoved into our bacteria-infested backyard pool when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure that Frank tried to drown me in there at one point.”

Mickey just shrugged noncommittally, his fingers slack around the bottom hem of his shirt and his eyes zeroing in on the pool of water. Ian thought Mickey would say something in reply— but the only sound in the air was the faint shouting of kids playing a basketball game the street over.

Holy shit. Ian had been so buoyant and excited about his nostalgia-fueled idea of going to the public pool on a summer day and teaching his husband to swim, dragging Mickey out of the house without a second thought, that he hadn’t realized it until now— Mickey was scared.

Ian swallowed down the grin that was threatening to overtake his face— one he knew that Mickey would immediately notice and hate, because he it drove him crazy when people gave him shit in vulnerable moments like this, when Mickey couldn’t do something. So instead Ian kept talking, hoping his chatter would loosen some of Mickey’s nerves.

“Didn’t you and your brothers ever go down to the other pool over on Trumbull?”

Mickey met Ian’s eyes then, raising an annoyed eyebrow. “Clearly not.”

And, okay. This was understandably bringing up some childhood shit. Ian tried to snap Mickey out of his head— he strode over to where Mickey was standing, a good six feet from the poolside, and snaked a hand onto the back of his neck, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a grounding and comforting touch that would drain the trepidation from Mickey’s defensive stance.

“One summer Debbie was so afraid of getting drowned at the public pool that she learned how to hold her breath for 4 minutes.” Ian grinned at the memory of Debbie dunking her head in a tub of water in the kitchen, making him and Lip time her. “Honestly, it was probably for the best you never went to the public pool. It was a shit show.”

Mickey scoffed, but the lightness was back in his eyes. “If I knew how to swim back in the day I probably woulda been the one doing the drowning.”

Ian barked out a laugh— and why did he immediately turn back into his 15-year-old self, with a god-awful crush on Mickey Milkovich, whenever Mick said shit like that? He pressed his lips into a smile, squeezing Mickey’s shoulder once more for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, king of the Southside. You ready to get in the water?” Ian’s hand trailed down from its grasp on Mickey’s shoulderblades, dropping to encircle Mickey’s wrist and guide him towards the water.

Mickey immediately recoiled, yanking his hand from Ian’s hold and taking a step back, squinting and holding up a hand to block the bright rays of sun out of his eyes now that he wasn’t standing in Ian’s shadow.

“Fuck d’you mean? I’m not just gonna fucking hop in there and drown. You gotta show me what to do.”

Ian grinned again, without being able to hold it back. He knew what Mickey was like when he was afraid of something— defensive and grumbly and avoidant to touch. He rolled his eyes. “Can’t really teach you to swim when we’re not in the water, Mick. C’mon.”

Ian walked over to sit on the edge, then slid his torso down into the pool. The water was lukewarm and tepid, barely providing any relief from the sticky air— but it felt nice. Ian let out a little breath of relief from the heat as he waded over to the shallow end. Mickey was still standing by the mound of the towels the ground, watching him warily. Ian raised his eyebrows.

“You coming?”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey aggravatedly pulled off his shirt, tossing it behind him— sunrays bounced off of Mickey’s pale skin, owing mostly to the fact that Mickey had barely left the house in the last few weeks because of their prolonged “honeymoon.” He slowly walked to the very edge of the pool and, in a movement that made Ian’s heart grow ten sizes, hesitantly dipped a toe into the water like a cat trying to paw at something. A corner of Mickey’s mouth flickered downwards almost imperceptibly, a worry line sprouting on his forehead.

“I don’t know, man.”

Ian breathed out a laugh. Leave it to Mickey Milkovich, shit-talking king of the Southside, to be afraid of the shallow end of a public pool. Ian reached out a hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, still smiling like a sappy motherfucker at his painfully endearing husband.

“C’mon Mick, just stand here with me first.” Ian was waist-deep in the shallow end, the water pressing against his upper thighs— he knew that at this height the water would be at Mickey’s waist, right where his swim trunks met his hipbones.

Mickey’s brows furrowed from where he was still perched on the concrete lip of the pool ledge, his two feet firmly rooted. “Explain what I gotta do first. To swim, or whatever.”

Ian blew out a breath, still grinning like an idiot. “It’s not that hard, Mick. You just gotta circle your arms and circle your legs. But you have to get in the water first.”

Ian treaded over, pushing through the water to where he could rest his upper arms on the edge of the pool beside where Mickey was standing, staring up at him with what he hoped was a convincingly pleading face. Mickey’s eyes were still fixated on the water, lapping at the pool’s edge from where Ian had rippled through it. And suddenly Ian had an idea.

With a teasing grin, he reached a wet hand out from the water and encircled it around Mickey’s ankle, splattering the concrete with drops of water. Mickey immediately jerked like an electric shock had jolted through his body.

“You gonna come in, or do I have to make you?”

Mickey tried to shake his ankle out of Ian’s grasp, but Ian had hold of him with an iron fist. Mickey leaned over and tried to swat at Ian’s arm without losing his balance on the pool’s edge.

“Cut that shit out right now, Gallagher.”

Ian just grinned, squeezing Mickey’s ankle like he was about to tug him in. “Come on, Mick.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and, just as Ian had imagined he would— he started to freak the fuck out.

“Ian stop that shit right now, I swear to god I will fucking murder you if you—”

They were at the 6-foot marker in the pool, right where it was deep enough for Mickey to stand on the very tips of his toes; and with this knowledge, Ian tugged at Mickey’s calf— causing him to falter, his arms circling like a cartoon character before he lost his balance and crashed into the water on his side.

Ian immediately placed his hands on Mickey’s hips, standing him upright before his head even fell under the water— but Mickey was still sputtering and splashing, like the drama queen that he was. Once Mickey regained his composure and realized he was easily standing on the bottom of the pool, his head bobbing just above the water, he swiftly splashed healthy burst of water into Ian’s face, the chlorine stinging his eyes and nose.

“Fuck you, Gallagher!”

Ian coughed at the water that had shot up his nose, but immediately splashed Mickey back—and then, because there wasn’t any way this whole pool situation was going to go anyways, he and Mickey were immediately engaged in a life-and-death splash battle, circling each other in the middle section of the pool.

Ian was laughing so hard he felt a stitch in his side— and Mickey was finally grinning again, water dripping down his cheeks and clinging to his hair. After a few minutes Ian threw his hands in the air in surrender, the water cresting at his shoulders.

“Truce!”

Mickey splashed one more surge of water at Ian’s chest for good measure, grinning like a kid in a candy store— then he took a step closer to Ian, eyebrows raised.

“Truce.”

Ian beamed down at him, pressing a quick peck to the top of his damp hair. “Sorry for throwing you in the pool.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“But in my defense, it had to happen eventually.”

Mickey shoved him squarely in the chest, taking a step back. “You ruined the fucking truce.”

Ian gave a smug smirk. “Do you wanna learn how to swim, or not?”

Mickey flicked another burst of water at him, just enough to cast a slew of droplets onto Ian’s cheeks. “Alright. Get coaching, Michael Phelps.”

Ian hadn’t really considered how he was actually going to teach Mickey to swim— but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He tried to think back to when Lip had taught him how to tread water, on an equally as sweltering day in the backyard pool, when the yard was packed with lawn chairs and drunk neighbors and smelled of ashy barbeque smoke.

“Okay. So you’ve gotta move your arms in circles, kinda, to stay floating. And your legs too.”

Ian swam over to the deeper end of the pool, just an arm’s length away from where he and Mickey’s feet could touch, and tried to demonstrate how to tread water. “I feel like the easiest way for you to learn is just by doing it. C’mere.”

Mickey looked at him reluctantly, brows furrowed again in an outward display of his bundled nerves. “No fucking way.”

Ian sighed in exasperation. “C’mon, Mick. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you drown, you can hold on to me the whole time.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow— but then hesitantly took a step towards Ian, the water reaching up to the bottom of his chin.

“Alright, good. Now step where you can’t reach and try to tread water like I did.”

Mickey stepped forward again, then started to circle his arms under the water— and he was doing great, for a second, before he seemed to get too in his head about the mechanics and started to grit his teeth.

“Little help here, Gallagher?”

Ian grinned and stepped forward. “Here, you can hang onto me.” He stood where Mickey could reach and grab onto his shoulders if he needed to— but Mickey seemed to regain his confidence, and was starting to steadily, if a little bit clumsily, tread water.

He kept it up for a while, until Ian could see that he was overexerting himself— waving his arms under the water with a little too much gusto, brows furrowed and his teeth digging into his lower lip in concentration.

“Mick, you’ve got it. Chill out for a sec.”

Ian reached an arm out, a branch for Mickey to grab on to— because he had been joking before, yes, but he really didn’t want Mickey to fucking drown— and when Mickey grasped onto it, Ian pulled Mickey towards him in the water, kicking backwards so they were suspended in the deeper end of the pool with Mickey clinging to Ian’s neck.

Mickey looked nervous as Ian veered them towards deeper waters, his eyes darting from side to side where they were floating, his fingers digging into the back of Ian’s neck— and Ian smirked at how freaked out he seemed, standing only a few feet from where they could both confidently stand on the tiled pool bottom. But Mickey didn’t resist, or try to propel himself back into the shallower waters— he let himself cling on to Ian, fingers interlaced behind the tops of Ian’s shoulders, as he kept them afloat. Ian laughed softly in a warm, wet gust across Mickey’s cheek. “You okay?”

He could feel the heat radiating off of Mickey’s body, squeezing up close against him— and Ian couldn’t help it, the wave of fondness that came over him as he looked down at where Mickey was pressed against his chest; trusting Ian to keep them above the water, trusting Ian enough to go along with his stupid plan to teach him to swim in a public pool on a random morning just because Ian wanted to. Ian couldn’t help but feel warmth in his stomach at this simple moment, at the two of them bobbing in the pool— at teaching his husband to swim, something Mickey’d never gotten to do as a kid but something that they had the rest of their lives to do together.

“Maybe we could teach Franny to swim next summer. If we have our own place.”

As he said it, Ian hoped that Mickey could see the flood of hopes that he had for them in his eyes— that he wanted a place with a pool, and a balcony, maybe a backyard, and maybe even a fucking garden—he’d always wanted to grow tomatoes. More than anything he wanted to build something sturdy, that could stand up to whatever ground would inevitably shift beneath them in the years to come— he’d been thinking about that a lot these days, especially with all of the pandemic shit that had pulled a rug out from under this entire neighborhood.

Mickey’s gaze flickered up from where it had been boring a panicky hole in Ian’s sternum, meeting Ian’s eyes at the phrase “our own place”— and Ian instantly knew that he got it, that he could see the dreams that Ian was building for the two of them right in front of their eyes. That after months and years of obstacles and chaos and other voices infiltrating their heads, now it was just them— now it was just Ian and Mickey, clinging to each other and drifting through the calm, chlorinated waters.

And maybe it was their proximity, or the intensity Ian knew he was pouring out in his gaze, but instantly the air between them shifted as Mickey looked up— starting to hang heavy like the press of the humidity in the air. Their faces were centimeters apart— and Mickey’s lips parted slightly, his eyes now cast downward at Ian’s lips. Ian could smell the sweet, warm beer on Mickey’s breath, mingling with his own; he looked at Mickey, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck, water dripping down his face from the hair that was fanning over his forehead—and Ian just had to pull him in, had to place a hand in the damp hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck and tug him closer, backing them against the tiled wall of the pool.

Ian could taste the faintest bitterness of chlorine on Mickey’s lips, from the water droplets lingering there, as he took Mickey’s bottom lip between his teeth. Mickey’s hands were still limply wrapped around Ian’s neck, keeping himself afloat— even though Ian had backed them against a wall in the shallow end of the pool again, and Mickey could probably touch his toes to the ground if he wanted to.

Ian raised his hand from under the water, wanting Mickey closer— he pressed a hand to the side of Mickey’s neck, slick with water, and slid a thumb over Mickey’s collarbone, pressing down with the pad of his fingers.

And Mickey gave a little involuntary noise from the back of his throat, sending a jolt down Ian’s spine.

Ian’s hands circling Mickey’s neck was definitely not a foreign concept while they were kissing— it was something they did a lot these days, especially as their hours in bed had taken a turn from the crazed, I-missed-your-body-so-fucking-much sex they were having in the beginning days of being in prison together and those early months after Mickey had gotten released— but both in prison and during this fucking quarantine, they’d gotten a bit more experimental, and a bit more reckless—especially before Ian had gotten his warehouse job and they were still on their structureless “honeymoon,” spending entire days lounging in bed.

It was those days of lazy, languid kisses, after years and years of already knowing each other, that Ian realized that he was maybe a little bit obsessed with Mickey’s neck. He’d always joked about liking Mickey’s legs, and that was true too (if he was being honest, there wasn’t a part of Mickey’s body that didn’t make his blood run hotter)— but the first time Mickey had grabbed Ian’s hand and put it up to his neck while they were tangled together, pressing down until Ian’s hand covered most of his throat, Ian knew that they’d opened Pandora’s fucking box.

By this point, Ian’s hand was pretty much always on Mickey’s neck at some point while they were fucking or even just making out— if he was being totally honest, Ian’s hand was on Mickey’s neck more often than not in lots of contexts these days, once they realized how much they both loved it. But there was something about this current moment, of Mickey wantonly desiring a point of contact there, right now, while they were very randomly and decidedly making out while floating in a public pool on a lazy weekday afternoon, that made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and rush quicker through his veins.

Ian let the pads of his fingers creep up the velvet skin of the side of Mickey’s neck, pressing a little deeper, a prelude— he could feel the vibration of Mickey’s heartbeat starting to flutter from where Mickey was still pressed against his chest, still clinging to his neck in the water.

They’d already extensively discussed limits and everything, Mickey would tap his wrist twice if shit got too intense— but even with that in mind, Ian pulled apart from Mickey for a second, trailing ghosts of kisses up the side of his neck and nipping at the underside of Mickey’s jaw. Mickey stretched his neck back and gave a little involuntary sputter of a moan, bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He fisted a hand in Ian’s hair, at the nape of his neck, and leaned forward again to press their lips together with more fervor.

Ian pulled back again, his upper back resting against the concrete lip of the pool. Mickey looked disheveled and wrecked, half-dry chlorine-crusted hair sticking up from where Ian’s other hand had been cradling the back of his head, his blue eyes gleaming and catching the over-bright summer light. Mickey was still clinging his arms around Ian’s neck, holding on— they were in a fucking pool, and Mickey still couldn’t really fucking swim yet— and even though they were standing in a place where Mickey’s toes could certainly touch the ground, the whole thing felt weirdly insular and intimate, like they had to cling to each other.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, like he was daring him to keep going.

Ian leaned forward, breathing heavily into Mickey’s mouth, but not pressing their lips together yet—and he reached a hand up again, against Mickey’s tender skin. Mickey’s legs were wrapped around Ian’s hips now, locked like a vice to keep himself upright in the water— and he pressed a little harder, gently pulsing at the sides of Mickey’s neck, in tandem with their lips pressing together over and over again as the warm waters surrounded them—the whole thing, the whole combination, made Ian feel indescribably floaty and weird and warm and blissed out; his skin stinging like ice and fire at every point of contact, electricity zapping his nerve endings wherever his fingertips met Mickey’s skin. Mickey fisted his hand harder at the back of Ian’s hair, nodding slightly—and they were definitely not going to fuck here, in the filth of a Southside public pool, but this insular closeness, the knowing what they both wanted to right now, was equally as thrilling and fulfilling to Ian in the moment. He could almost feel his own heart beating, reverberating as it pressed against Mickey’s chest, vibrating straight through Mickey and back to him as they clung to each other in the water.

Mickey’s body was thrumming, letting out little gasps of breath between kisses and touches—and Ian pulled back and dragged his lips down the side of Mickey’s neck, inhaling the sunwarmed skin. Fuck. He was never, never going to get enough of this.

Later, they’d dragged their water-heavy limbs back through the still summer streets to the Gallagher house, their skin pink and their bodies exhausted from soaking up the sun— and they’d collapsed into bed, feeling the dried chlorine coating their skin.

Ian reached a hand up, rubbing a thumb over Mickey’s cheek, their bodies pliant and fatigued— and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thanks for letting me teach you how to swim.”

Mickey had smirked. “Yup, that was definitely the only highlight of today. Swimming.”

#a fluffy premise AND ian being obsessed with mickey’s neck??#what more could u want #*blows kiss to elias and stella* for u #also yes i did have a word document on my computer titled ‘neck fic’#what about it #ty for the prompt anon this was truly an experience to write #ily<3 #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless imagine #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #ixm #gallavich fanfiction #cw choking

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oonajaeadira · 4 years ago

Text

The Mandalorian Tarot: Major Arcana

If you’re following me, you know this is a Mandalorian obsessive account. I love the man, I love the show, I write a Mando-fando that is all about pining and touch. I tend to go all in when I have an interest.

Another one of my interests? Tarot. A friend challenged me to Mandalorify the major arcana. And because Jon and Dave know their stuff and are good with archetypes (which is all tarot really is), it was an easy fit.

YOU GOT MANDO IN MY TAROT. YOU GOT TAROT IN MY MANDO. TWO GREAT TASTES THAT TASTE GREAT TOGETHER.

But. I can’t draw, so I’ve dreamed them in words and included the Rider-Waite-Smith deck illustrations that I would riff on if I could.

READY? LET’S PLAY.

(All tarot illustrations by Pamela Colman Smith. All Mandalorian images property of Star Wars/Disney.)

UPDATE! @heathenashtattoos has taken up where I cannot and is making these cards a reality! I will post them individually and come back to link them to this post as we go.

0 THE FOOL = THE MANDALORIAN / IT IS MADE! --->

The story of the tarot is the Fool’s journey, the arc of becoming. So it makes sense to me that Din would be the fool. Fits even better, since he has tremendous Fool energy in his himbo tendencies, just rushing forward into situations without a lot of planning--he’ll deal with it when he’s in it--ready to rely on others to show him the way or guide/help him to the next step.

If I could draw: Din on the cliff, with his jetpack on, meaning he has no fear of falling. Instead of the bindle-stick the Fool carries, he’d have his pulse rifle slung over his shoulder. Instead of the dog nipping at his heels, Grogu. And, of course, the landscape would be Tatooine/Navaro-esque.

~~~

1 THE MAGICIAN = LUKE SKYWALKER , IT IS MADE! --->

The Magician is someone who is still learning to bend the laws of magic/the Universe, but very adept with their tools. Since Luke is only a few years into his Jedi training at this time, he makes a pretty good Magician.

If I could draw: Luke in his blacks, holding up his lightsaber. The Jedi symbol would replace the infinity sign.

***

2 THE HIGH PRIESTESS = AHSOKA TANO / IT IS MADE! -->

High Priestess is further along the path of her magic than Magician, and her knowledge is more intuitive, her skills more effortless. Where the Magician is still learning the balance of light and dark, the High Priestess knows the value and pitfalls of both. It was always going to be Ahsoka.

If I could draw: Ahsoka sitting cross-legged in meditation mode, but with eyes open and a knowing smile. Instead of two pillars, she holds her lightsabers up and parallel to each other.

***

3 THE EMPRESS = PELI MOTTO / IT IS MADE! -->

The Empress is the mother figure, the energy in the universe that provides all that is needed and embodies the energy of creation. I can see the argument for Omera being the Empress--mostly because she is a mom and she’s soft and a lot of people see the Empress as a soft female figure, I get it. (And if I were to do a minor arcana, girl would show up as one of the Queens for sure.) But in the end, I gave it to Peli because she’s a recurring character, more relevant in his story, and if Din is the Fool, Peli is more an Empress to him. She’s able to be the provider of his particular needs; services to his ship to get him up flying, contact and location information, and she’s always willing to care for Grogu whenever she gets the chance.

If I could draw: Peli sitting in the dock, against the R4 unit, holding aloft a spanner and surrounded by her pit droids.

***

4 THE EMPEROR = BOBA FETT / IT IS MADE! -->

The Emperor is all about authority. And all I gotta say about Boba is BIG DICK ENERGY.

If I could draw: Just put him on the Jabba throne and let him lounge like a badass.

~~~

5 THE HIEROPHANT = THE ARMORER / IT IS MADE! -->

The Hierophant is the keeper of traditions and a spiritual guide. As the leader of the covert and keeper of the Way, The Armorer fits.

If I could draw: The Armorer, framed by her forge, holding aloft her tools, with Mandalorian acolytes. Instead of the crossed keys at the bottom, let’s just have a mythosaur skull.

***

6 THE LOVERS = FROG LADY AND FROG HUSBAND

This should be obvious and I will fight anyone who says it isn’t the right thing to do. I will die for this.

If I could draw: I would actually depart from the Smith depiction and just draw them embracing or holding each other by the arms and staring into each others’ eyes. Some kind of glowing background? Maybe the egg tank?

***

7 THE CHARIOT = THE MUDHORN

Oh. You thought I was going to say the Razor Crest, didn’t you. Don’t worry, I have plans for our beloved craft, but it ain’t here. The Chariot can be a ride, yes, but it’s about victory. Sometimes it’s about the victory over your inner “beastly” natures. To travel to the next phase in the journey, the Fool must take on the beasts that drive the Chariot and claim dominance over them, and when he does, they will carry him to the next level. Since it’s the victory of the beastly mudhorn that brings Din to his bond with Grogu and becomes his signet, Mudhorn for the win.

If I could draw: Again, I’d probably play on Smith’s imagery, put the charging mudhorn in the middle, and replace the rams with Din on his knees brandishing the vibroblade and Grogu in his pram with his Force hand up.

***

8 STRENGTH = CARA DUNE

Don’t come at me about including Cara. I am glad Gina got shown the door and I lose no love on that bigot. But. Cara is not Gina and to cut her out is to cut out Jon and Dave’s creation and I won’t do it. I actually love her a lot--she’s got her flaws, but she’s sassy and strong and solid, and I would happily accept a piggyback ride from her any day. She’s also a major player in Din’s story and deserves a spot in it. Strength comes after the Chariot--once you’ve conquered the beast within, you have confident dominion over it and it becomes a companion or a tool for your use. Cara is one with her toughness, she’s used it to do some good and bad shit in her past, and she continues to wield it effortlessly and fearlessly. She is absolutely this card.

If I could draw: I would put her maybe sitting on top of the downed ATST. I’d replace the infinity symbol over her head with the one on her cheek (Rebel Alliance).

~~~

9 THE HERMIT = KUIIL

The Hermit is a loner, yes, but in his solitude he looks within, learns from all he’s been through, and becomes wise. He holds aloft a light of wisdom and truth. This was always going to be Kuiil.

If I could drawn: Just our buddy, looking out over the Arvala-7 landscape, holding aloft an in-universe working lamp. No need to get fancy. He would want it to stay simple.

***

10 THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE = IMPERIAL SYMBOL AND STORM TROOPERS

The Wheel is fate. You win some, you lose some. Sometimes you’re on top, and sometimes the Wheel crushes you beneath it. You are helpless to its roll and where you’ll land. Storm Troopers are such a sad bunch. They are keepers of Imperial Law on the ground. On a good day, they capture a Rebel or hold off an attack. On a bad day, their Moff just blasts them to make an example.

If I could draw: The wheel would just be the Imperial symbol and there’d be Troopers on and under it. Maybe the one on top is just standing there, looking authoritative. The one underneath has been blasted. Some Wheels have two more figures--one on each side--and I’d add those too. The one on the down-going side would be falling, arms flailing, blaster shooting (if only sound were available, there’d be a Whilhelm scream), and the one on the up-going side would just be dangling by one arm, along for the ride.

***

11 JUSTICE = COBB VANTH

Well, it just feels right to make the Marshal into Justice. But it’s not just a literal translation of making sure the right thing gets done and the bad guys are punished. Justice is about wiping away emotion and making decisions with bare truth, looking at every side of the situation and understanding what is really there. And I think Cobb fits this well. He doesn’t want to give up his armor because of what it means for the protection of his people. But he’s willing to consider it, if there’s another way he can protect them. Emotionally, he doesn’t want to deal with the Tusken Raiders, but he does it because he can see it’s the best course of action. He flies into battle with the Krayt Dragon. He gives up his armor without a fight. He makes a fair trade and sees the balance in it because he walks away from the emotion and chooses the best course of action. Cobb Vanth for Justice, errybody.

If I could draw: Cobb in the Fett armor, but with the helmet at his feet. In one hand, a bottle of spotchka. In the other, the Tusken mushroom drinky thing; he’s holding them with equal balance.

***

12 THE HANGED MAN = MIGS MAYFELD

The Hanged Man is not just about a dude who’s hanging upside down. (If that was the case, I would have just gone with Gor Koresh and called it a day.) Hanged Man is about changing your perspective to see things in a new way so you can grow. Many times, this growth also requires sacrifice. Over the two episodes we see Mayfeld, we know he goes from Imperial sharp shooter, to traumatized deserter, to merc, prisoner, and exonerated friend. He’s seen some shit, given up a lot, and he’s willing to see how he can be a help to others and find redemption for himself.

If I could draw: Hear me out. Take the image of Mayfeld hanging upside down from the Crest hatch into the prison ship. Mirror that above with an image of him in his Imperial Ground Transport gear. Flip it all upside down so bad Mayfeld up top, good Mayfeld on bottom, images mirrored but inverted, hence “looking at things a new way and getting everything a little topsy-turvey.”

~~~

13 DEATH = MOFF GIDEON

Death is about transformation, so it’s not always the most sinister card. But Death does not discriminate. It comes for us all, constantly stalking, and it will strike you down to serve its needs. You need to face Death to get to your redemption. But really, Gideon is our big baddie here, so why the hell not.

If I could draw: I would forgo the Smith illustration and go for the Marseilles tradition on this one. Gideon and the Darksaber replaces Death and the scythe.

***

14 TEMPERANCE = IG-11

Temperance is the transformation that comes after Death. Once Death has chopped your physical being into pieces with his scythe, Temperance is there to take all your pieces and put them back together into something new and better. It’s also a card that asks you to re-evaluate your priorities and see if you can find better motivations than you previously had. IG’s death and reprogramming speak loudly to me on this.

If I could draw: IG pouring the tea.

***

15 THE DEVIL = THE CLIENT

Here’s another baddie card that’s all about your worst faults, about excess and giving into the stuff that will eventually kill your soul. The Client holds on hard to the Empire, doing whatever he’s ordered to do to be one of the top dogs. And in the end, it doesn’t matter. Gideon takes him down like he’s nothing.

If I could draw: The client, wearing his Empire bling, with chains around Doctor Pershing and a rough-looking Storm Trooper.

***

16 THE TOWER = THE RAZOR CREST

I don’t know about you, but Chapter 14 killed me. And not because the Dark Troopers flew away with Grogu. We all knew Din would never stop at getting him back. But when the Crest was destroyed, it was like someone punched me in the soft parts, and I made a lot of severely anguished noises. The Tower is the most tragic card in the tarot. It’s when forces beyond your control make a very big (and usually negative) impact in your life and everything changes. You are left to pick up the pieces and survive any way you can with the skills and resources you’ve been blessed with.

If I could draw: Just that moment of the ray hitting our beautiful Crest, just as it begins to break apart, maybe with Din, Boba, and Fennec watching in horror in the foreground.

~~~

17 THE STAR = GROGU

The Star is hope. It comes after the biggest tragedy in the deck to tell you that not all is lost. There is always something there to live for. C’mon, kids. In this series, there was only one choice.

If I could draw: Just Grogu. Maybe drinking his soup. Or maybe he’s levitating his metal ball overhead, reaching up to it with a smile on his face. *coos*

***

18 THE MOON = BO KATAN KRYZE

We all like Bo Katan, sure. But remember my Clone Wars/Rebels fiends, she was Death Watch, and they were terrorists. She sided with Maul to take over Mandalore. Sure, she’s come a long way and her path is a bit more honorable now, but she’s got an agenda, which makes her hard to trust. Since the Moon is about more feminine energies and has themes of illusion and deception--things look great in the moonlight, but maybe not as they really are--Bo Katan’s our girl.

If I could draw: Head and shoulders profile, double-imaged so you see her face, but her Nite Owl helmet superimposed in profile over it. Nite Owl signet on the bottom. Possibly flanked by her two Nite Owl cronies.

***

19 THE SUN = GREEF KARGA

Everything's sunny when Greef’s around! He’s the feel-good gramps that’s going to make any situation A-Ok! If you’ve got a problem, Greef can sort it out...or he knows someone who can! The sun is always gonna shine on you and take you back.

If I could draw: Just Greef smiling and being cheesy with the halo of the sun around him.

***

20 JUDGEMENT = FENNEC SHAND

This card traditionally shows the resurrected rising from the grave, ready to be judged. Fennec’s got a lot to answer for in her life, but she is being given a second chance, and my number one girl crush is going to do new and wonderful badass things with it.

If I could draw: I’d either just show her opening her gut pocket to show her new works, all full of aura, with her looking down at it reverently. OR I might do a scene of her being rescued by Boba.

~~~

21 THE WORLD = THE HELMET

Din’s helmet is the world he lives in. But it’s also a symbol of The Way. The World represents completion, a wholeness of self and being, the end of the journey. And since Din is our Fool, his journey is an exploration of his morals and honor, what it means to walk the way of the Mandalore, and what the meaning of the helmet is for him. He may choose ultimately to keep it on and go all-in on Mandalorian-4-lyfe (Child of the Watch style), or he may understand that the helmet is just a symbol and the honor was in him all along; he can wear it or not wear it and it’s all the same.

If I could draw: The World usually depicts a circle or sphere of some kind, the symbol of perfect completion. The helmet is close enough, so it takes up the center. Traditionally, there are four symbols in the corners that give more meaning to The World, and I would replace them with The Razor Crest, Grogu, the Mudhorn Signet, and the pulse rifle or blaster. These represent his home, his foundling, his clan, and his religion, all of which make up more of the whole; what it means to him to be Mandalorian.

~~~~~~~~~~

Challenge accepted and faced.

Adira dops her witchy mic….

#the mandalorian #mandalorian #tarot #mandalorian tarot #star wars #din djarin #luke skywalker #ahsoka tano #grogu #bo katan hate gang

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gogglor · 3 years ago

Text

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely. Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear. “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel. I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN. They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern? Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09. You look like shit. They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way. Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy. Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered. Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram you sent. Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

#capimrecweek #tony stark #Steve Rogers #stony #fanfiction #MCU #ficrec

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enby-enderdragon · 3 years ago

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Dude please tell me abt ur mc worldbuilding

Mx Elliott Whycraft, my beloved, I would give you the biggest hug right now if I could

Okie, okie, so its mostly just a pantheon of gods that I’ve made, but I do also have some ideas for, like, holidays and things that would happen on those holidays and things that certain followers of certain deities would do, but I digress. I’ll just tell you about the deities I chose mostly since I don’t wanna be too rambly. I can save the other details for other asks if people really wanna know about that. This is gonna go under a cut bc this might end up being a long post. Like I said, unfortunately for you guys, I’m very autistic and religion worldbuilding is a special interest of mine.

Uhhhhh, warning, possibly some bits that could be considered Slimecicle Cinematic Universe spoilers if you haven’t seen “The HARDEST Minecraft Difficulty” yet??

So, the first deity I chose, of course, is DreamXD, shortened down to XD. He’s the big king of the gods and he has the epithet of “the Prime” since he’s one of the bigger and more worshipped deities in the pantheon. Things like Church Prime in the DreamSMP and Techno’s channel member bell fall under his domain. XD is specifically the god of order and life so, as mortals began to worship the pantheon, it felt natural for XD to rise to the position of God King. XD is also the protector of the Dragon’s Realm. It’s his job to make sure that, if the Enderdragon ever has to die, that she is only killed A) she absolutely has to be because he’s very attached to his Dragons and B) he always makes the the Dragon has a successor.

The second deity I chose was Drista. No one is really sure how old Drista is, not even the other gods, because she’s the goddess of chaos, so she’s XD’s counterpart and has to have been around since the first chaotic thing happened in the mortal plane, but she appears very young compared to the other gods and she’s referred to in the mortal scriptures with the epithet of “the Young”. Drista falls under with the duty of being the protector of childhood and children in general, which only adds to her epithet. Aside from all that, she’s also the guide for souls of the dead into the Afterlife.

The third deity I chose was Grizzly. Now, a lot of mortal scripture about Grizzly was lost because his stories used to be burned when people would try to write them. A lot of people passed his stories around orally, but still, a lot of the scriptures were lost and mortals can’t truly now a lot about what happened with him. The biggest things that survived history of his stories is that he is the god of the forge and of mischief, but one day, he had a falling out with the other gods and they cast him out of the Pantheon Proper, which earned him the epithet of “the Fallen”. Nowadays, stories say that Grizzly is the King of the Damned, but no mortals know for sure exactly what that means.

The fourth deity is Condi. Condi is one of the oldest gods in the pantheon, even older than XD by millennium. Condi is the god of magick, so he was the deity that separated the Three Realms from each other. There’s rumors of a secret fourth realm that Condi uses as an escape from the other gods, but again, those are just rumors. No one has ever been able to craft a proper portal to this secret realm, but still, the realm of the Aether is mentioned too many times in scriptures for it to be a coincidence, right? Anyway, Condi also the Weaver of Fate, so, as you can imagine, he’s a very busy god. He has the epithet of “the Wise” because, if you’re gonna have this much shit going on as a god, you’ve gotta be wise.

The fifth deity is Bizly. Bizly, even by the other gods, is considered weak and useless, as he’s the god of animals and monsters. Most of the other gods will ignore him and couple of the other gods can be outright mean to him for no reason. This earned him the epithet of “the Dismissed”. Because of the way that the other gods treat him, Bizly took it upon himself to be the protector of the weak and underdogs. To mortals, he also become equivalent with the start of spring, so a lot of mortal stories call him the “bringer of new starts”.

The sixth deity is Foolish, of fucking course. He’s the god of storms and the seas and, even though his domains are usually very rough things to mortals, he himself is a very chill god (these days) and he doesn’t really interact with the other gods unless he ABSOLUTELY has to. He tends to spend most of his time as the protector of Mizu, a legendary city that is said to live under the deepest parts of the mortal oceans that houses only the most holy artifacts and important scriptures of the gods. There’s a specific rune that was created that is said to be a sigil of Foolish and it’s supposed to bring great wealth to a person if they draw it on themself. Foolish has the epithet of “the Undying” because I’m uncreative cgvhjbkgv

The seventh deity is Kristin, the goddess of death, because I have to. Again, she’s a goddess that doesn’t really like interacting with the other deities if she doesn’t have to. She tends to spend most of her time tending to the souls of the Afterlife, making sure everyone is happy and cared for and with their loved ones if they can be. The only deity that she has constant contact with is Drista, since the younger goddess helps her collect the souls of the dead. Kristin is known to take pity on a few souls that have no one every now and then and she’ll make them into angels and let them roam the mortal worlds again until they die and then they’re dead for real with no take-backs.

The eighth deity is Irene. She’s a very flighty goddess, not known to stick around in one place for long. As the protector of the Mortal Realm, she does her best to make sure that every mortal has a happy and healthy life on the earth. She’s typically the goddess of medicine and family in most portrayals of her scriptures, but there are a few places that will cast her as a more “dark” (using that word lightly because I can’t think of a better one) goddess of apathy and discord. Those mythos as that “darker” goddess are very rare, however. She has the epithet of “the Matron” and she’s the only recorded goddess to be referred to with the title of “Lady”. The other goddesses don’t seem to like that title.

The ninth deity is Herobrine. He’s the god of both the sun and the moon, so a lot of mortal legends say that the sun and moon are his glowing eyes and he’s watching over the mortals and he’ll punish any greedy or malevolent mortals. Because of that line of mythos, Herobrine earned the epithet of “the Watcher”. He’s known for collecting wayward souls that are stuck between Grizzly’s Damned Kingdom and Kristin’s Afterlife and he’ll make a wayward soul into an assistant of sorts to help him watch over the realm and punish mortals. Sometimes, his Watchers can get a little overzealous and will take in souls that aren’t ready yet, but Herobrine never forces a soul to stay if they don’t want to and lets them go back to the mortal realm.

The tenth and final deity is False. Yes, Miss False “Supremacy” Symmetry herself is a goddess. Specifically, she’s the goddess of war and blood. She, again, is a goddess that doesn’t much like the other gods and stays away from them as much as she can. In scripture, she’s never referred to by name because legends say that, if you speak her proper name, she’ll appear and kill your entire land or family or whatever. Most texts and stories refer to her either as “the Blood God” or by her epithet of “Animus”. She’s considered the herald of the winter months and she’s also the protector of the Nether Realm.

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something-tofightfor · 4 years ago

Text

Seasons to Cycles / 1

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 9217

Rating: M (Mentions of drug use, sex with multiple partners, language)

Summary: A chance encounter brings someone new into your life. Is this the beginning of a serious change - and an important addition - or is it just chance?

Author’s Note: Well I am terrified to post this. Most of you know how important writing Logan CORRECTLY is to me, and so I’m really worried about this one, because it’s a very different take on him. There’s a lot that I have to say without directly saying it - but please, stick with me, and I PROMISE everything will be explained in good time.

I chose the “long chapter” route rather than breaking it up, because as I was editing, it didn’t make sense to end it sooner/the only cut point was at 3500 words, which would still have left a 7,000 second part.

Don’t be afraid to give me your honest opinions about this one... I want them, and I can take it.

This song sets the tone for the entire story. This is the mindset I’m writing Logan with. It’s not going to be pretty.

I figured I’d be able to get in and out before I went to see Jess, and now… You sighed, pushing your cart through the aisles of the grocery store and reaching around people to grab items from the shelves. Guess everyone else had the same thought. I should have just gone to Safeway. Groaning quietly, you sidestepped a woman and her child to get to the last aisle you needed - the flowers and cards. Gotta grab one for Jess, and then… But you stopped in your tracks at the sight of someone standing next to their cart in front of the card rack, taking up the majority of it. For real? Shifting on your feet, you leaned forward, eyeing the man’s back, and willing him to hurry. He’s taking up the…

But after nearly a full minute of the man standing still with his hands in his pockets, you decided to speak. I can’t stay here all night. “Excuse me.” The man still didn’t move, and you rolled your eyes as you cleared your throat. “Hey, you? In the dress shirt? Excuse me.” Finally, he turned his head toward you, and you again paused. Holy shit, what is someone that looks like that doing in here? “I know picking cards out is a pretty serious thing, but uh, you’re blocking the whole aisle.” Glancing into his cart, you raised an eyebrow. “And your ice cream’s going to melt.” His eyes going wide, the man turned further, looking down into his cart and swearing under his breath, one hand coming out of his pocket and raking through his hair - though the motion didn’t disrupt the styling. He looks familiar, but I don’t …

“Shit.” The man turned completely away from the shelf, reaching in to pick up the carton of ice cream, carefully inspecting it, even as his fingers pushed into the sides. “I didn’t even…” He set it down and then looked back at you, dark brown eyes fixed on your face. “I figured I’d pick one and be outta here, but it…” He shrugged. “Sorry, let me move the cart.” Before you could reply, the man was rolling it further down the aisle, where the only thing it could block was a spinning display of children’s books.

“Thank you.” Your cart out of the way too, you stepped closer to the shelf, crouching down and eyeing the birthday cards on the lower rows. The man stepped back next to you, still looking through the shelves, and after a few seconds, you looked up at him again, narrowing your eyes as you watched him reach for one and then draw his hand back. “Are you looking for something in particular? Wife? Girlfriend? Brother? S-”

“My housekeeper’s son broke his arm.” He sighed, pulling his left hand from his pocket and letting it hang next to his thigh. No ring. But that doesn’t mean… “So she had to cancel on me today, and probably for the rest of the week, so I’m here gettin’ my own groceries, and I thought I’d stop an’ take him some ice cream and a card on my way home.” Your lips parted at the explanation, and you shifted on your feet, hands resting on your bent knees. Maybe I should break my arm and see if someone that looks like him brings me a treat. “My sister broke her leg as a kid, and I remember all she did was eat ice cream an’ watch cartoons, so -”

“Well.” You stood, grinning at him. “You’re gonna want to get a fresh container, because that one you’ve already got looks a little sad.” He wrinkled his nose at your words but nodded, and you continued. “How old is he?” The man thought for a second and then shook his head. “Seven? Eight?” You watched his jaw work, noticing a small, thin scar high on his cheekbone. “I think he just had a birthday, but I …” You reached past the man, picking out a card with a chocolate chip cookie with a face on the front, a large, colorful bandaid affixed to the top of it’s head. “A cookie?” He sounded incredulous, but you just nodded, handing him the card and waiting for him to open it. “You’re one tough cookie… that’s so stupid, it…” But he was fighting back a laugh as he glanced over at you.

“It is stupid, but that’s the point. He’s a kid. It’ll make him laugh.” You shrugged. “And, it’s not that pseudo-inspirational bullshit that people always try to give people when they…” He laughed again and you stopped speaking, unsure of what was so funny. “Anyway,” you continued as he smiled at you, one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk that forced his cheek round. “It’s just a suggestion, but I -”

“Thank you.” The man nodded again and then looked away, reaching for an envelope, his long fingers plucking it from the shelf with ease. “I woulda stood here for another ten minutes, and probably picked out one of those… what’d you say? Pseudo-inspirational bullshit cards? Perfect for a kid, right? I have no idea what most of ‘em like.” Chuckling, you dropped down again, eyes moving over the cards in front of you and reading them quickly.

“Glad to help.” You grabbed a card too, flipping it open to read the inside and then straightening, noticing that the man was still waiting next to you. What is …

“I’m serious, thank you for the help.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he closed his eyes briefly for a second. “It’s probably pretty obvious that I don’t spend a lot of time in -”

“Hey, I’m not judging you.” You tucked your card into its envelope and pressed your lips together. “Like I said, picking out cards is a -”

“No, I…” He rolled his eyes. “I’m Logan.” Logan… you don’t hear that often. “You?” He’s asking me my name?

“Nice to meet you, Logan.” You stuck your hand out, smiling as you introduced yourself, Logan’s fingers sliding against yours and then against your palm before he shook it, grip firm. “Glad I could help you out.” He pulled his hand away first, but you felt one of his fingers curl slightly, the tip of his nail dragging slowly across your skin as he did so. Wh…

“And you.” Logan’s gaze moved away from you and toward the front of the store before his eyes drifted back to your face. “Guess I gotta go and replace that ice cream. Got any flavor suggestions for me?” Without a pause, you stared right back into Logan’s eyes and replied - straight faced.

“Cookie dough?” That time, neither of you could hold back your laughter, but after a few seconds, you took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. “I’ve gotta go, Logan. I’m meeting a friend for her birthday tonight, and I want to get home before it gets too late. I hope your housekeeper’s son is doing alright, and I’m sure he’ll love the card… and the ice cream.”

“Yeah.” Logan chewed on the corner of his lip for a second and the nodded twice. “I bet he will.” He will. Definitely.

Without saying anything else, you turned back to your cart, fingers winding around the handlebar as you began to push it. Well that was a nice distraction. As you passed the end of the aisle, your eyes went wide. Shit, I still need… After a few more minutes of navigating your way through the other people in the store, you headed back toward the cashiers, staring at the contents of your cart and frowning. Hope I didn’t forget anything.

Joining a line of people waiting to check out, your eyes strayed to the rack of magazines near the register, both of them widening as you saw one of the covers. Is that… “Don’t believe everything you read.” Spinning toward the voice, you saw Logan standing behind you, both of his hands on his cart. “Those magazines are mostly bullshit.”

“Are you telling me that…” You paused, head tilted to the side. “You’re Logan Delos? VP of Delos Inc., and engaged to the -”

“That’s me.” He glanced at the magazine. Of course he’s engaged, why wouldn’t he be? “D’you think that’s a good picture of me?” Chuckling you clicked your tongue, still watching him.

“Your hair looks better in person.” You let out a breath, lowering your head. “I had no idea, Logan, that you were … of course you got the ice cream before the end of your shopping trip, you’re probably not used to…”

“Hey, I’m not helpless, here, I just … I work a lot, and …” Yeah, you work a ton, and … Your thoughts were reeling at the realization that the handsome man you’d helped pick out a card - the one that you’d joked with without thought - was Logan Delos, one of the world’s wealthiest and most eligible bachelors. But he’s not eligible anymore, not since… “Can you believe that I’m on the cover of that goddamn magazine? Just becausea…”

“When you’re engaged to the daughter of the UK’s …” You trailed off. “She’s big news, Logan. And so are you.” Of course he is. “At least now I know why you look familiar.” He winced at that, looking away. No, I didn’t … “I’ve seen you before, Logan. You - and Delos - do a bunch of charity and medical work, right? I’ve seen you on the news, on CNN, I just didn’t…” Tell him the truth. “Didn’t expect to run into you in the middle of the Thousand Oaks Whole Foods on a Wednesday.”

“You saw me on CNN?” Yeah, where else would I… “Well that’s a change.” He gestured forward. “You’re next.” Flustered, you began unloading your items onto the belt, trying to collect your thoughts. Logan Delos? And I … The cashier began scanning your groceries, and you smiled at her, moving your cart to the end of the lane and stepping in front of the credit card machine, digging through your purse. “Don’t worry about it.” Confused, you glanced back at Logan. “I got your stuff. Call it … a thank you for helpin’ me back there.”

“Logan, I can’t -” He shook his head, fighting back a grin. “You don’t need to…”

“I want to.” He shrugged, wrinkling his nose. “Like I said, I probably woulda still been’ standing there.” You let your wallet drop back to the bottom of your purse, finally nodding.

“I appreciate it, Logan.” And now I get to tell Jess that I … “Thank you.” He signaled to the cashier, who nodded once, going back to your items. “I’d, uh, say that maybe I’ll see you here again, but…” You lifted an eyebrow, watching him closely. “I’m sure I won’t, since this is a special circumstance.” He laughed at that, too, agreeing with you, and you were struck by how warm the sound was, the way his eyes lit up each time it happened. “Good luck, Logan.”

Your bags loaded back into your cart, you moved all the way to the end of the lane while Logan finished putting his own items - including the melted ice cream carton - onto the belt. “Yeah, I’ll need it.” Leaning over to reach one of the final things he’d chosen, he lifted his gaze, looking up at you through his lashes, one lock of hair barely out of place and falling at a different angle than the rest. Damn, he’s good looking. “Thank you.” You had a feeling that Logan’s sincere thank-yous were few and far between, and he’d said it to you multiple times in the span of a few minutes. At least I did something right.

“Of course.” You have to go, you’re taking up time and space here, and this isn’t… going anywhere. “Goodnight, Logan.” Offering him one final smile, you began pushing your cart toward the exit, still collecting your thoughts. What are the odds…

---

“Hey, Jess?” you were stretched out on your friend’s bed, socked feet resting on the wall above her pillows. “You know Logan Delos, right?” You were scrolling through your phone while your friend got dressed. “The -”

“The tech guy?” She yelled back to you, poking her head out of the bathroom door a few seconds later. “The hot one with the -”

“Yeah.” You read the page you were on, chewing on your lower lip. “I met him today.” He’s only been engaged for a few months, but they’ve … “I -”

‘“Where?” She was back in the room, hands up and next to one ear as she fastened an earring. “Today?” You turned your head toward her, nodding.

“Yeah, I had to stop and get your card, and when I was in Whole Foods, he was blocking the card aisle, so I gave him a hard time.” You darkened your screen as you spoke, sitting up and folding your legs beneath you. “Didn’t realize it was him at first, because I wasn’t expecting him, but I helped him pick out a card for his housekeeper’s kid, and then we ended up in the same checkout lane, and …”

“Wait a second.” She sat down on the edge of her bed, tilting her head to the side. “What was he doing all the way out here? I thought he lived in LA, that’s where he’s always going in and out of that -”

“You know more about him than I do, Jess. But I’m guessing he was on his way home from work or something, or he stopped on his way to the housekeeper’s, but…” Because I looked, and there’s a Delos office over this way, but … “He was alone, and even though he had a dress shirt on, he looked like he was trying to … I don’t know, blend in, and -”

“You don’t look like that and blend in.” She turned her own phone toward you,an image of Logan on the screen, dressed in a full suit and standing next to a stunning redhead in a tight black dress. “I mean look at him. Look at them, they’re going to have great looking kids, and ..” I’m sure they are. “But you met him? What was he like?” He was … really nice. But you waited a few seconds, thinking, and then replied.

“Normal. At least he seemed like it. Seemed kind of overwhelmed, like he hasn’t seen the inside of a grocery store in …” You frowned. “But super nice. I made him laugh.” Jess raised an eyebrow, waiting. “I didn’t realize it was him, so I just… I was joking with him, and being myself, and …”

“I don’t know that I would have been able to say anything to him.” She was staring at her phone again, eyes wide. “Do you realize how …” She showed you another picture of Logan, courtside at a Lakers game, dressed casually - dark t-shirt and jeans, worn boots on his feet. “He’s an actual celebrity, and you just …”

“He paid for my groceries, too.” You shrugged. “As a thank you, because I helped him pick out a card, and reminded him that ice cream does in fact melt outside of the freezer.” Jess laughed at that. “But yeah, that’s my brush with a famous person. Guess you don’t need to go to The Grove to see ‘em, they’re right in the greeting card aisle when you least expect them.” She snorted, eyes still on her phone. You thought of Logan, telling you not to believe what the magazines said about him, that most of it was bullshit. But what did he mean?

You didn’t have time to dwell on it, because there was a knock on Jess’ front door, and the woman jumped up to answer, leaving you sitting up on the mattress, phone in hand. “That’s Max, he’s taking me to dinner!” I guess I’m leaving, then… You stood too, tucking your phone into your back pocket, and followed the woman into the living room, where you found her in her boyfriend’s arms, the man’s lips pressed to the top of her head.

“Get a room, you two.” Jess laughed, pulling away from the man, and you reached for your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. “I’m going to go, I just wanted to drop off your card and say happy birthday.” She turned away from Max, holding her arms out and you stepped into them, hugging the woman tightly. “Call me this weekend, if you’re off, and we can go get a drink or something?” I’m sure I’ll need it, the rest of the week’s going to be …

“Yeah, maybe your luck will carry over, and we’ll run into someone else famous.” Jess wrinkled her nose and you rolled your eyes. “Max, she met Logan Delos today at the grocery store, and -”

“Was his fiancée there?” His tone interested - though you could tell he was joking - the man widened his eyes. “That red hair is -”

“Max!” Jess turned away and playfully smacked his chest, his hand rising to catch her wrist and tug her toward him. “I’m right here, and it’s my birthday.” He ducked his head and kissed the woman quickly.

“I’m just kidding, she seems really high maintenance, even if she looks alright.” She looks more than alright, but I agree, she seems like she… From what you knew of the woman - seeing her through the years on gossip websites and MTV, along with magazine covers, you agreed with Max. I definitely know more about her personal life than her career.

You left a few minutes later, smiling as you walked to your car and began driving home. It was a long drive - nearly a half hour from Agoura Hills to Burbank, where your studio apartment was, and you spent it listening to a playlist you’d created weeks earlier, the scenery flying by. Logan slipped from your mind almost entirely by the time you parked on the street in front of your place, but after you’d showered and changed, planting yourself on the couch with dinner, you were thinking about him again. Don’t be stupid. Stabbing your fork into a piece of chicken in your salad, you frowned, narrowing your eyes. You met him for five minutes, it wasn’t a big deal.

Continuing to eat, you flipped through channels, zoning out. It wasn’t difficult to let your mind wander; you’d been busy at work, putting in longer hours than usual, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel there - at least in terms of working over. For a month or two, anyway. Then it’s going to pick up again.

Working in the admissions office for Woodbury University wasn’t a glamorous job, but it was steady work - and it paid decently, since you’d been there for a few years. Paired with the tutoring sessions you did weekly, you made a decent living, and could have afforded more than the studio apartment you rented, but you didn’t see the point. It’s just me. And I’m never home, anyway. Keeping the small apartment allowed you to save money, paying off your other debts at the same time, and you were perfectly content with it. For now. It’s nowhere near as exciting as what Logan does … or what Ariella does. Unwittingly, your thoughts went back to the man you’d met a few hours prior, the easy smile he’d given you, the laugh that had erupted from his lips when you’d joked with him. You’d never know he’s a … You frowned. Millionaire? Multimillionaire? Rubbing at your eyes, you stood, putting your dishes in the sink and returning to the couch.

But we can’t all be tech geniuses or born British celebrities, I guess.

---

Logan tossed back the remainder of his drink, eyes scanning the horizon. From 73 stories above the city of Los Angeles, it felt like he could see forever, even though the slightly smoggy air made it more difficult. Though he was in one of the private cabanas, the curtains were open, giving him a view of the rest of the bar - and everyone there. Typical Saturday. He nodded once at the smiling brunette that brought him another drink, thanking her, but as soon as she’d turned away from him, she slipped from his mind, Logan focused only on the cool glass he held between his fingers, the condensation dampening the pads of them along with his palm. Reminds me of the Mesa. He lifted the drink to his lips, ice clinking against his teeth. More fun there, though.

While Logan didn’t get out to the parks as much as he had previously, visits to the Mesa were still high on his list of enjoyable activities, the hours he spent in the mountainside facility almost as memorable as the time in the parks. But that’s just because I don’t have to pretend. He gave a young man a smile as he walked past, and Logan knew without a doubt that if he’d beckoned him with one finger, the man would have stopped in his tracks, the two of them disappearing back into the hotel where Logan had a room on standby only to emerge the following morning. And she wouldn’t care, but I don’t… He frowned, taking another drink.

His fiancée was thousands of miles away, likely sleeping, and Logan was alone. Like always. He closed his eyes. Wonder whose bed she’s in tonight. The engagement - and subsequent wedding and marriage were nothing more than a smokeshow; carefully orchestrated by his own father and Ariella’s, meaning that there were very few rules he had to follow. Until the ceremony. He’d met the woman a few years prior, traveling to London to meet with a representative for her father’s business - which turned out to be the woman herself. They’d hit it off, finding each other attractive - moreso after a few drinks and some additional stimulation, hand delivered in the form of fine, white powder by one of the woman’s friends. Logan woke up the next morning, one arm around the redhead, and the other around her friend, none of them wearing any clothes.

That night was … probably a mistake. He frowned, taking another drink as his eyes scanned the bar patrons, all of them engrossed entirely in what they were doing and who they were with. I’m usually not by myself here, this is …

The initial deal done and the Delos empire continuing to expand, Logan and Ariella kept in touch, meeting when they were both on the same continent, but Logan had tired of the “extras” quickly, the drugs and the sex boring him, while she only seemed to need them more, embracing the lifestyle that she’d grown accustomed to being the youngest child of a wealthy former actress and businessman. She’s never earned her position with that company, and I … Logan sneered as he took another drink, setting the glass down and cracking his neck. I fought for it all.

The trip to the park with William prior to the first meeting with Ariella had done a number on him - Logan returning to the United States a mess, no one believing anything had happened to him - except for Juliet, and even that had taken time. She’d still married William, still got pregnant only a few months later, but it hadn’t taken the man long to show his true colors, and when confronted by both the Delos siblings, William had folded quickly, agreeing to a divorce with no spousal support, no visitation with his daughter, and no continued association with Delos - or any competitors. That was a win.

Logan finally smiled, thinking of the last time he’d seen the man, Logan unable to contain his anger as he’d drawn his arm back, punching William square in the mouth without saying a word. There’s never been anything more satisfying. He’d been involved with Ariella then - and despite Juliet’s belief in him, Logan was still using occasionally, forgetting everything that bothered him for a night or two a week via some substance, somewhere. It got bad, before that, but after I hit him? After he was gone, and lost everything? It felt better.

He still drank, still occasionally accepted party drugs when they were offered to him, but he didn’t depend on them to get through days, as he had while recovering after being released from the hospital. He didn’t crave the feeling of forgetting his life and the pain he’d endured in the desert, didn’t need the high that came with lowering his nose to the tabletop and inhaling, or putting the sharp end of a syringe against the crook of his elbow. Instead he wanted something more - something that he was beginning to understand that he’d ever have with his intended wife.

Logan was surrounded with people nearly all of the time, but despite this, he didn’t feel connected to any of them, except for Juliet. And even that’s not … it could be… He lowered his head, thinking. Could be more. Should be more. He’d never willingly admit it to anyone, but the thing Logan craved more than anything - money, drugs, sex, opulence - was a genuine interest from someone else that he could return. Anyone found that out, and it’d ruin my reputation. He grinned, deciding that it was time to go; he’d only stopped in to make sure that things were running as they needed to, needing to report back to his father that everything looked good - and everything ran as it was supposed to, the redesign on schedule and as discussed.

He stood, reaching into his wallet and pulling out a bill to leave on the table, though he always drank for free anywhere in the building. Should I stay here tonight, or go back to my place? He tucked his wallet back into his pocket and unbuttoned another of his shirt’s buttons, looking around. Is it worth it to look for … Nah. He rubbed at his beard, looking around again, eyes moving over the well-dressed men and women sitting and standing throughout the open space.

The arrangement that he and Ariella had was that before the wedding, anything was game - for both of them - as long as they could keep it out of the papers. Being discreet was key, and though it was simpler for Logan to blend in places, finding willing partners for a few hours or a full night, he didn’t participate as often as he’d assumed he would when they were ironing out the details. It’s just asking for trouble. And I … Ariella reminded him often that the relationship was only a business deal, that there weren’t any real feelings involved, and that as long as they followed the rules set forth by the terms of the agreement, they could get back to their lives within a few short years, each hopefully a few million dollars wealthier. But that …

It hadn’t mattered to the woman that Logan never lied - his honesty wasn’t an important factor to her, and in her mind, the relationship itself wasn’t a lie - they were going to get married, they were going to act as though they were truly a couple, and they were both going to benefit from it - along with both companies, too. They need us more than we need them. He began walking toward the exit, sidestepping people every few feet. We could more than get by without the hotels, but they … they need the resorts, and the Mesa, they need the… He paused as he caught sight of someone sitting near one of the large panes of plexiglass against the outside wall of the bar, his eyes widening. What are the odds?

He took one step forward, tilting his head to the side, and tried to decide whether or not he was going to continue approaching, or simply walk by and through the doors, heading to the elevator. There are millions of people in this city. And I’m 45 minutes away from where I … Logan poked his tongue into his cheek, narrowing his eyes briefly. Fuck it. He quickly stepped toward the table, clearing his throat, eyes moving over the woman’s face, assessing it even though it looked entirely different beneath the low lighting and against the black sky behind her than the first time he’d seen it . “You were right.” He paused as the woman - and her friend - stopped their conversation, both turning their heads to look at him. “The card? The ice cream? He loved ‘em.”

---

Logan? You were shocked to see the man again standing in front of you, this time dressed more casually than he had been in the store. You took a moment to answer, eyeing him and noting his appearance; less product in his hair, shirt buttons undone enough to expose an inverted V of pale skin at the base of his throat and the top of his chest, no jacket in sight. Say something. “Did he laugh a the card?” You wrinkled your nose, grinning. “Did he get it?” The man nodded, stepping closer to your table as someone pushed past behind him, and you quickly moved your glass away from the edge of it, giving him space to rest his hands if he needed to. He’s not staying, he’s going to …

“Are you going to introduce me?” Jess’ voice interrupted your thoughts, and you waited until Logan’s eyes moved from you and to her to blink, letting out a breath that you were almost positive he noticed you release. “I -”

“Logan. Logan Delos.” He held out his hand to your friend, the woman taking it eagerly, unable to hide her smile “And you are?”

“I’m Jess.” She bit her lip. “We’re out for my birthday.” Logan glanced back at you, but then focused entirely on the other woman, leaning in closer.

“Well, then, Jess,” he wet his lips, the action not going unnoticed by either of you. “Happy birthday.” He raised one eyebrow, the smile on his face growing. “Would it be alright if I bought you a drink?” What is he…? Logan turned back toward you, expression changing as he gave you the same smile that he’d given you in the store. It’s not as bright as … not as fake. “Both of you? If that’s alright, of course. I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

“We just got a new round, Logan.” You spoke quickly, eyes flicking to Jess, who was watching you in shock, confusion in her eyes. “I -” His eyes flashed, but his smile didn’t falter, the man lifting one hand to run his fingers through his hair. He already bought my groceries, he can’t…

“Sure.” Logan blinked. “I get it.” No, that’s not… “Let me at least tell the bartender that I’ll cover your -”

“Oh, come on.” Jess spoke again, leaning across the table toward you. “Let the man buy you a drink, it’s not like he’s asking you to jump in bed with him.” Your jaw dropped at her words, but she didn’t give you a chance to reply. What is she … that isn’t … he’s engaged. “I’ll take you up on that, Logan, and thank you for it, even if she doesn’t -”

“I really don’t want to interrupt.” He straightened up, eyes back on you. “I just thought that I’d offer, since … well, the chances we’d run into each other for the second time in a week are …” Nonexistent? “I …” He looked out of his element - only slightly - but you watched him collect himself, the easygoing smile disappearing, replaced with one that was just a little too formal. I offended him. I was just trying to …

“Logan.” You closed your eyes and reached out without thinking, your fingertips finding the rolled cuff of his sleeve, situated slightly higher than the middle of his forearm. “I’d love to have a drink with you. We’d love to have a drink with you. Thank you.” I just don’t want him to think that … The man visibly relaxed, and you wondered how often - if ever - people told him no, and if he reacted the way he’d reacted to you each time. You took a deep breath as Jess cheered quietly, not looking away from the man. “Here, let me change seats, that way you don’t have to -”

But Logan was already moving, stepping around the back of your chair, the pressure of his hand against the backrest pushing you forward slightly as he edged between you and the chair behind yours, going for the vacant seat between you and Jess. “Nah, it’s fine. This way I can still see the bar, an’ the waitresses can see me.” He didn’t say it smugly, but you realized as he spoke that Logan knew that the staff was looking for him, wanting to ensure that he always had a drink and was never waiting. It must be … He settled into the chair, back to the city, and instead of leaning back, Logan leaned in, taking a deep breath. “Watch.” He settled one elbow on the table and then lifted two fingers, one eyebrow raised, and before you had a chance to get a good look at the onyx ring he wore on his little finger, a waitress was tableside, asking him what he wanted. Jesus. That didn’t even… “It’s her birthday,” he spoke quickly, thumbing in Jess’ direction. “So whatever she wants.” With a nod, the woman looked at your friend, waiting. “I’ll…” Jess put a finger against her lips in thought. “I’ll take one of the Orion’s Polomas.” Tequila, Jess? Is that a… But the waitress was already tapping onto a small tablet, her eyes moving to you next, waiting. I have to order something, I feel like he’ll be offended if I don’t, and that isn’t … You glanced down at the menu, eyes scanning it.

“The Supermoon sounds good.” You glanced up at Logan, noting that he was watching you, dark eyes focused on your face. That’s kind of unsettling, but … “Can I get one of those, please?” The waitress nodded, and before you could thank her, Logan interrupted.

“I’ll take one of the Supermoons, too. You might as well make it a pitcher.” A pitcher? That’s too many… But the woman typed that in, too, and then turned to walk away from the table, short skirt showing off her long legs in the low light. Logan didn’t wait for her to get too far away before he shifted in his seat, saying Jess’ name. She leaned in, still smiling at him, but you saw that the expression was much more relaxed than it had been. She’s still kind of starstruck, but… she’s better now. “What else are you doin’ for your birthday?” Logan’s eyes flicked to you and then back to your friend. “She said she was buyin’ you a card the other night, and then coming over, but -”

“I went out to dinner with my boyfriend Wednesday, and I’m seeing my family next week, but …” She kept talking and you zoned out, looking over Logan’s shoulder and out at the horizon, the twinkling lights of LA partially distracting you. Absently, you listened to the two of them talk, waiting for your drinks, though you also kept an eye on his face and the way his low, smooth voice carried to your ears. Of all the people to see twice in a week, of course it’s him, and… While you watched him out of the corner of your eye, you tried not to stare at the way his cheek twitched every time Logan gave Jess a smile, or the way his eyes focused entirely on whoever he was talking to, only briefly moving at the approach of someone new. The waitress must … You watched Logan’s eyes follow the movement, though he kept speaking with your friend, and you turned toward the woman as she approached the table, a tray with three glasses and a pitcher balanced on it.

Smoothly, she set each item down, eyes lingering on Logan as the pitcher slid across the table’s surface, his hand reaching out, long fingers closing around the handle to lift and pour it. “Thanks, darlin’” You couldn’t help it and sucked in a breath as the word left his lips, your fingers flexing against the tabletop. I wasn’t expecting … But if anyone else heard - or saw it happen - they didn’t say anything, Logan looking up from the ice cube filled glassware and back at the woman. “And is the kitchen still open? I just realized I haven’t eaten tonight, and …”

“Of course, Mr. Delos. The kitchen’s always open for you.” She nearly purred the words, pushing her already full lips out as she finished speaking. “What can I get you? Would you like -”

He didn’t even pause before he answered, eyes on what he was doing as the liquid transferred from the pitcher to the glass, condensation already dripping down the surface of both. “Prawns and potstickers. The prosciutto?” He finally looked up, eyeing Jess first and then you, head tilted to the side. “That alright? Will you eat -”

“Yes.” You answered him and then looked at the waitress, smiling. “Sounds perfect.” How’d this go from one drink to food and a pitcher? But you didn’t ask out loud, instead extending your hand toward the man as he slid your glass toward you before filling the other for himself, lifting it and gesturing toward Jess in a toast. This isn’t what I would have expected from someone like Logan. But as the first taste of the drink hit your lips, strong but not overwhelmingly fruity, you realized that you didn’t know what you’d expected from Logan. I didn’t expect anything, did I?

---

I didn’t mean for this to… He took another drink from his glass, looking over the table between you and your friend, the second woman swaying slightly in her seat. I shouldn’t have. Logan was sober - he’d only sipped at the drinks he’d poured for himself after the second, letting the ice melt into them over time, and while your friend had continued to drink, you’d slowed yourself down, too. She’s bein’ smart about it. You were watching Jess somewhat warily, and though you didn’t say anything to the woman, he knew that you were mentally preparing to get her home, making sure that she was alright. People did that for me, too. But not enough of ‘em, they were too…

You’d eaten when the food came, thanking him again, and though the three of you had talked throughout the time you’d been sitting at the table, Logan was frustrated. This is bullshit. He raised his glass to his lips, taking a long drink, and though he could still taste the mint and lime, it was masked by the melted ice, the small, remaining cubes knocking into his teeth. But what is bullshit, exactly? Logan heard you speak, his attention focused back on you, watching as you reached a hand out to touch your friend’s arm. “Jess, we should probably think about calling a car, it’s a while back to my place, and -”

“It’s still early!” She wasn’t quite slurring her words, but Logan saw the expression on her face and the look in her eyes, recognizing it from his own experiences. You’re right, she needs to… Logan again raised two fingers without speaking, and within seconds, the same waitress was back at the table, lips pushed together and eyeing Logan with a look that he knew all too well. Do I know her? I feel like I … He furrowed his brow for a few seconds and then sighed. “Can we get another pitcher, but of water this time?” Both of you stopped talking, and Logan felt your eyes on him, though Jess let out a quiet whine. Yeah, I get it, but… “And the check, whenever …”

“I’ll bring that water right out, Mr. Delos, but you know that you -” She shifted her shoulders, pushing them back. “You know that it’s always -”

“Not this time.” He used one finger to indicate the table. “Everything from before I sat here, too.” Her eyes widened, but she nodded, the smile never leaving her lips as she turned. I think I probably … “And before you argue with me,” he said, turning in his chair to face you. “I got it.” You mouthed the words “thank you” and then turned back to your friend, who was still complaining quietly, though there was nothing behind her words. As the waitress brought everything back to the table, handing the sleeve with the bill in it straight to Logan and setting a new pitcher and glasses down before she began clearing the others, Logan heard a phone ring and watched Jess fumble in her purse, pulling the device out as she stood.

“Max?” The woman swayed slightly on her feet and then collected herself, holding the phone to her ear. “You’re never going to believe…” She pointed with one finger and you sighed, nodding as she began to walk toward an open seating area that was less busy than where you were, though it wasn’t out of eyesight. She’s a good friend. Logan opened his wallet and put a few bills into the sleeve, closing it and setting it at the edge of the table. Not at all what I thought tonight was going to be.

“The one night I’m not happy that I don’t live close by.” You groaned, putting your head down on your bare arms, which were folded on the tabletop. What? “I live in Burbank, and it’s only about twenty minutes, but she’s gonna…” You peeked up, wrinkling your nose. “She gets…”

“Carsick?” He leaned back, elbow resting on one corner of the back of his chair. “She was drinkin’ tequila.” You straightened up, laughing, and Logan stared at you while your eyes were closed, feeling himself smile. It’s different when it’s just the two of us, it… “How you gettin’ back?” He paused, thinking. “I can get you guys a -”

“Logan, no.” You stopped laughing, pushing the strap of your dress back up and over your shoulder from where it had slipped down. “You’ve already done more than enough, she’s going to tell everyone for the next year that Logan Delos bought her birthday drinks, and …” You rolled your eyes. “If she pukes in the Uber, she pukes in the Uber, and I’ll just make her pay me back.” She’s a really good friend.

“You know, I have a…” He spoke without thinking, the idea occurring to him suddenly. “I’ve got a room here. I’m not stayin’ in it or anything, but since this is one of the Delos Destinations property partners, I can get a room whenever I…” You opened your mouth to turn him down, but Logan didn’t let you. “I’ll walk you down, give you the key, an’ that’s it. You won’t have to worry about anything when you leave tomorrow mornin’, and you guys can take a car home without worrying about -”

“Logan, that’s unnecessary. You don’t even…” You weren’t looking at him the whole time you spoke, your eyes flitting through the crowd until you found Jess, the woman sitting on one of the green benches, legs crossed at the knee as she talked on the phone. “You don’t even know us, and you’re offering …”

“I know what it’s like to have too much to drink an’ then haveta try to get home.” He scrubbed a hand over his beard. “Trust me, it’s not a big deal. And since I’m the one that bought you all this alcohol, I feel responsible.” Where the fuck is this coming from? “I’m offering.” She’s gonna say no.

“Logan, I…” But he heard you swear under your breath, standing and leaving the table, moving in the direction that Jess had walked off in. Wh- But he followed you with his eyes, watching as you hurried over to the woman, one arm looping around beneath her arms as hers went around your shoulders. He stood, hand moving through his hair and walking over to you. “I’ve got her.” But Logan met your eyes again, watching as you closed them, giving him a nod. “We’ll stay, if it’s…”

“Yeah. C’mon.” He led the two of you through the crowd, and despite the fact that Jess was unsteady on her feet, there were no issues, Logan swiped his keycard at the elevator and urged the two of you in with him before the doors closed, the woman slumping against you once inside. “Hey, let me help you.” He could tell you wanted to turn him down, but you nodded again, and Logan’s arm replaced yours around the woman’s, his hand making contact with yours briefly as you switched places. Jess leaned against him, Logan holding her tightly, and by the time the doors slid open again, Logan had handed you the key, pointing you in the direction of the room. “They switch me out between the suites on this floor, an’ they told me which one was ready for me tonight when I got here.” It’s excessive, but …

The three of you stopped in front of the door to the Presidential Suite, and when Logan heard the quiet hum of the lock, you pushed the door open and stepped in before him, one hand reaching out to flip the light on. He’d followed countless women into hotel rooms in his life, had led even more into them, but when you glanced back over your shoulder to make sure he was following with your friend, Logan felt only confusion. I know nothing’s going to … but this … “I think I’ve got her from here, Logan.” You spoke as he helped the woman through the living area, bypassing the couch and heading straight for the door to the bedroom on the right. “I don’t -”

“It’s just a little further, it’s fine.” Jess squealed when she saw the bed, perking up and stopping in her tracks, kicking both shoes off. Yeah, they’re pretty comfortable, I don’t mind sleepin’ in them either, Jess.

“We’re staying here?” She pulled out of his hold, turning back to face Logan, a wide smile on her face. “I didn’t -” But he watched as the look in her eyes changed, one hand rising to cover her mouth, and without pause you again darted toward her, bumping into Logan as you rushed past him, pulling the woman toward the bathroom with another whispered apology under your breath. The door closed behind you, and only a few seconds later, he heard the sound of Jess coughing and water running. She was right. On autopilot, Logan turned toward the closet, pulling the hanger with the robe on it off the rack and heading toward the bathroom door.

He knocked twice. “There’s a robe out here if she needs somethin’ else to wear. I’ll leave it hanging on this chair.” He heard you reply with a thanks, and then Logan turned and left the room, walking into the open space of the living room after pulling the bedroom doors closed behind him. Rather than sitting on the couch, he stepped through the room, switching the lamps on. I should leave. I got ‘em here, I should go down to the lobby an’ call a car back to my place, and … But he didn’t, instead staring out and over the city, one hand in his pocket, the rectangular shape of his phone beneath his palm.

He hadn’t heard from Ariella in two days, and though it was barely midnight in Los Angeles, it was morning in London, meaning that there was a possibility that she was awake. He pulled the device out, opening their messages, but when he saw that the last one he’d sent earlier that afternoon still hadn’t been opened, he darkened the screen, putting it back into his pocket. Of course. Their arrangement wasn’t ideal by a long shot, but Logan had endured much worse in his lifetime, and for the sake of Delos - and keeping his word - would honor the deal he’d made. Even though it’s bullshit. He sighed, rolling his neck from side to side, watching as the lights twinkled in the distance.

“I’ve never seen LA from this high up.” He turned from the window, seeing that you were standing in the doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. “I mean, from a plane, yeah, but … We went to Spire tonight because Jess told me that it’s one of her favorites, but I’ve never…” You stepped forward, head shaking back and forth. “And this room?” You threw your hands up, rolling your eyes. “It’s three times the size of my apartment. And there’s a fucking piano?” Well, yeah, there... “Logan, this is…” You were only a few feet from him, standing in front of the window next to the one he was at, eyes out on the cityscape as you trailed off.

“Jess alright?” He ignored what you’d been saying, trying to get you to think about something else. “I’ve been there myself, but it wasn’t alcohol, it…” He bit down on his lip. Shit, she might not have … “I’m sure you’ve seen the -”

“You told me not to believe everything I read, Logan.” He looked over, surprised to see that you were smiling at him. I did say that. “But yeah, she’s fine. I made her drink one of those big glasses of water, and I’m pretty sure that aside from that and the ibuprofen I had her take, there’s nothing left in her stomach, so…” You sighed. “If she gets sick in the bed, I’ll pay for the damages, or -” He turned and reached for you before he could stop himself, his fingers closing around your bicep and squeezing gently.

“No, you won’t.” He immediately let go of you, dropping his hand back to his side. “Believe me, even if she does get sick? It’s nothin’ they haven’t seen before.” You let out a breath, head tilted down and eyes focused on where he’d touched you. I shouldn’t have done that. “She really wouldn’t have made it home in a car, though, and at least now you don’t have to worry about -”

“Logan.” You were biting your lip, and he watched as your head rose, a pained expression on your face. “Why are you doing this? You don’t know me - or us, and this is a totally unnecessary gesture. You’re engaged. And you’re not exactly the type -”

“So you did look me up.” He felt disappointment flowing through him, fighting the urge to raise his hands and rub at his eyes. I thought this was… You stepped backwards, hands reaching out until you found the back of the couch, and Logan watched you perch atop it, the pillows moving as you sat. Leave. Leave it at this. Tell her again that all they have to do is wake up and go tomorrow, and then go home.

You swallowed, eyes still on him. “I did, Logan. I knew who you were, like I said the other day, but I guess I …” He watched your grip tighten on the couch, head dropping forward. “I wanted to know more about you, after meeting you?” That’s normal, why are you … “It’s stupid, but … and now we’re here, and I don’t know -” He said your name, cutting you off, and when you finally looked back at him, Logan took a breath.

“I meant what I said when I told you that you couldn’t believe everything that those goddamn gossip sites say, or what’s in the magazines.” He felt his lip curl. “That’s not what I wanted for myself, but I had a couplea rough years, and it’s… it is what it is now. I can only keep so much of it out of the press, but I’m not …” He thought back to the headlines from his benders, the way they’d all speculated that he’d be dead by 30, that his father would remove him from the company, that he’d ruined himself with his habits. But I didn’t. I fucking gave everything… “All that shit? That isn’t really…”

“It’s fine, Logan, you don’t need to -”

“Look, I can leave right now. You guys are safe here, and you can spend the night - order room service tomorrow morning before you leave. I don’t give a shit, it’s all on my account and it’ll be written off.” Raking a hand through his hair, Logan scratched the back of his head. “I’m doin’ this because despite what people might say about me? What they think is true because they see one sidea me and don’t bother lookin’ for more? I’m not just Logan Delos.” Where is this coming from? She doesn’t care, shut up, Logan. “I’m sorry your night ended this way, an’ I’m sorry that your friend’s not feeling that great, but I -”

“Do you want to leave?” Your interruption surprised him, Logan stopping mid sentence. “It seemed like there was another option, but I don’t -” I … He blinked rapidly, eyes on you. I should leave. “Logan?” He pulled his phone out again, checking the time, and seeing that there were still no missed calls or replies from Ariella.

“I can leave right now,” he repeated, setting the phone down on the tabletop after locking it. “And that’s it, just … goodbye, and thanks for havin’ a couple drinks with me so that I didn’t look like an asshole drinking alone at that bar.” Or … He didn’t know why he had anxiety about the next suggestion he wanted to make - he had no reason to. “Or, we could grab a couple beers from the mini fridge and sit out here on the couches for a little while.” Your eyes moved to the kitchen area and then back to Logan, though you stayed quiet. “It’s up to you.” He saw the apprehension in your eyes and took another deep breath, closing his eyes and nodding his head at you. “Look, I’m not propositioning you. I’m not tryin’ to get you into bed, or anything like that, but you don’t look tired, and I’m not in any hurry to get back to my place, so …”

He waited in silence, unsure of what else to say. The truth was, though, that Logan was curious about you. You’d said you lived in Burbank, but he’d met you for the first time in Thousand Oaks. You seemed slightly overwhelmed by the opulence of the hotel room and bar, and had known him from CNN instead of JustJared or Daily Mail. I want to know more about you, and I don’t … You were watching him intently, and Logan returned the look, letting his eyes roam over your face, though he hoped it wasn’t making you more uncomfortable than you already seemed to be. Finally, after a long pause, you stood, taking one step closer to him and reaching up with one hand to tuck hair behind your ear. “Alright, Logan. What kind of beer’s in that fridge?”

---

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ceruleansmiles · 4 years ago

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Post Vincenzo thoughts

I havent used tumblr in a hot minute but its the best place to discuss I think lol.

I really loved the show, I really did. Started as an anti-hero story and ended as one. As much as sunshine and daisies are appreciated, it was nice to see a kdrama portray what it really means to be on the darker side and to work in the grey areas.

Props to the entire cast for bringing their own flavour to the role and doing their role justice. Song Joong Ki especially, my love has increased tremendously for you as an actor. First loved Jeon Yeo-been in Be Melodramatic and continue to do so here.

Now onto the finale, it wasnt perfect but a lot of it makes sense despite me not wanting to believe so.

Starting with the whole set up. Vincenzo not being able to disarm Han Seok felt a little weak in terms of writing as well as him mostly side-lining Han Seo. But then again, it was Cha Young that was involved, who one way or another had become his Achilles Heel. The girl for whom he stayed behind longer and for whom he was willing to do anything to protect (yes we all saw the way he chucked that dude out the window). Her safety came before anything, and that may have blocked his usual foreplanning.

Next came Han Seo. Ah my poor baby. The one redemption arc strongly worked upon.But looking back, a lot of Han Seok’s identity had been molded in reflection to his brother. A lot of what he did was under the dominance of his brother, but the rest of what he did was to save himself. With Vincenzo, he found another brother but this time he was guided to do something for the better. While it felt like his death could have been avoided, he also did something that one - helped his brother Vincenzo and two - saved someone other than himself. And with the takedown of Babel and everyone involved, it also felt like there was no place for him to return to. More acknowledgement on his death was however, very much needed. It was a redemption but a tragic one unfortunately.

Then we have the trio villains and gotta admit as gory as the whole death ordeal was, it ‘fit’ them. Overkill as it may seem, I think it stemmed from the fact that Babel involved people that werent ‘villains’ and Vincenzo had to get revenge against the villains and for the innocent people.

Out of all, Cha Young deserved more. I do really wish we got to see more of her being a badass lawyer and more involved in the final takedown. The only thing convincing me otherwise is that we know she said she chose the lesser evil, but her best way of dealing with people is still through the law and the court and I dont think it wouldve quite done her character justice if she agreed to accompany Vincenzo in his final spree and then go back to court later on. Also, Chayenzo deserved more. More hugs, forehead kiss at the hospital maybe and more time together than Korea-Italy days. If their love language is actions not words, more action please lol.

Which brings me to Vincenzo. He had to leave for his Italian family makes more sense than the police suddenly deciding to get their shit together at the end. Also Mr Ahn and Mr Cho couldve definitely worked out how to bring him back safely for sure. Had really thought for a second they were gonna make him an NIS agent too. For the anti-hero part, I knew he wouldnt sugar coat it into saying its for the greater good, but like the monk said, I hope he did understand that his actions held weight and they made a difference and it wasnt just to satisfy his inner monster. I hope his anger gets placated and he finds peace within himself.

Finally, idk abt season 2, I wouldnt say no to it I think and I definitely wouldn’t turn down a special episode focusing on Chayenzo lol.

#Vincenzo #cha yong #chayenzo #song joong ki #jeon yeo been #finale #hong cha young #jang han seo

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 3 years ago

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tuesday again 6/29/21

i read part of a book, the reading section is no longer fallow, we have planted and sown some sort of crop

listening venus fly trap by MARINA. a dear mutual whose post i cannot find and i do not want to tag in case i am misquoting her called her latest lyrics “preachy” and i gotta agree? this one is almost but not quite a fun throwback to electra heart era. whereas that album was very much about watching “weaponized femininity” and a persona crumble around you, this is more of a mean-girl single designed to get your attention on the rest of the album. “why be a wallflower/when you can be/a venus fly trap” is an inherently delightful line.

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because i take a week off from this project every december, one week’s listening gets doubled up. glass animals’ mama’s gun gets on here bc it is perfectly engineered to stick in the back of my brain. i love a layered, kind of cluttered instrumental backdrop. the chimey-chimes! the sad woodwind! i don’t know that i particularly care for the lyrics or the people in the internet arguing about whether this song is about drugs or schizophrenia (the band said it’s about drugs, don’t be terrible to people with schizophrenia)

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reading here is a stab at the beginning of a post, bc i fully intended to finish this book sunday night and then. didn’t.

i’m trying to walk a fine line between pointing out things i find irritating and taking an older work for what it was at the time but tumblr is not known for its reading comprehension so i am belaboring some points and being more diplomatic with my word choice than if i were jawing about this book with friends. i read The Drowned World by JG Ballard as one of my first forays into the adult (shut up) fiction section at the library. there are some lines that have stuck in my brain for more than ten years, such as (describing sailing over a city under sixty feet of water) “...like a reflection in a lake that has somehow lost its original.” i’m a sucker for “sad man on the bleeding edge of civilization holes up in a once-grand building with looted bits and bobs”. i think it’s good set dressing and i love a poor little meow meow.

@morrak kindly offered me a pretty vintage hardcover that came in the mail a few weeks ago and i finally had time to crack it open. i draft these posts on sunday, and this sunday it comes to you from my phone in my landlord’s backyard, where a hammock really isn’t helping with the ninety-two degree heat and fifty-eight percent humidity. a good backdrop for reading about the earth remembering it used to mostly be a big swamp.

i typed a very long draft that ended up being mostly “wow kay you’re saying a novel written in the 60s is worried about the destruction of the world but in a dreamy and kind of sexist way with a tenuous relationship with reality at best?” yes. that’s just how old sci fi is sometimes and we can point out how parts of it don’t hold up for a modern audience while talking about the parts we do like.

for example, it takes a lot of its flavor and style from late-1800s harder scifi about hidden worlds/a changing world due to industrialization (think Journey to the Center of the Earth, or any novel about a secret paradise at the South Pole, or Erewhon). it is, instead, a softer scifi mostly concerned about the effects of living through a disaster that isn’t your fault and couldn’t be prevented, and what staring at constant ruin (no matter how beautiful!) and isolation does to a guy’s brain (as opposed to “harder” scifi like a lot of Verne’s work or Liu Cixin’s The Three-Body Problem that are really interested in how future technology might realistically work). i personally don’t think it’s a meaningful remix of these early altered-world novels, or at least i personally don’t find it terribly compelling in this particular aspect. women in late-1800s scifi either don’t exist at all or exist to be rescued from primitive humans so the author could write about some cool guns killing people. Beatrice thedrownedworld is in fact a catalyst for part of the book, but she does not feel like a real person, whereas Robert thedrownedworld feels like most of the professors ive had. poor bea, trapped in a sixties novel only to look pretty, be negged, and serve as a psychosexual metaphor. i have a pet theory that if you fuck in an older dystopia (like older horror) you die, but i don’t really have enough data points to separate it from standard misogyny just yet.

but at the same time, it’s such an interesting example of an apocalypse that isn’t humans’ fault. the earth is just doing some fucked-up shit for a while, and we might as well go see what’s up. in a lot of earlier scifi, the earth is just doing some fucked-up shit in the polar regions and we might as well go see what’s up.

sidebar, bc i’m me: in late-1800s scifi there’s some fun brotherly love/camraderie among the protagonists that you could put an interesting queer reading on (ask me about my Professor Arronax-twentythousandleaguesunderthesea-is-trans-theory) but Robert thedrownedworld is extremely straight. also like most of the professors ive had.

this is a book i’m fond of for its place in my life at a particular time and some really good imagery. sometimes on a sunday afternoon you read a short novel that does an excellent job of telling the story it set out to tell, and that’s enough.

watching the L0ki show. d/isney for once did not queerbait me, i do find their budget and attention to detail in costuming and set dressing excellent, and i do love an unapologetically not very nice woman. from previous experience with this particular flavor of #content this particular company puts out, i do not think it will hold my interest for a full season. also i am unable to read TVA as anything but Tennessee Valley Authority but that’s a different post

playing fallow week due to NDA

making lots of cleaning and packing and move-prepping. bought a fuckton of future textile crimes at various yard sales, which need to be frozen bc im inherently suspicious of old yarn and i’ll be fucking damned if i bring carpet beetles or moths into a new place. bug-free zone in the new place goddamnit

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

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paintedlight · 4 years ago

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Supernatural Season 15 & Sufjan Stevens' “The Ascension”

Teaser: there’s a song on this album called "Die Happy” where the lyrics are just “I want to die happy” for 5 minutes and 45 seconds. yeah. yeah.

Disclaimer: yes it’s all a stretch and I’m overthinking it but also… am I? (yes)

long post time! know that reading ahead may hurt you and yes it does get worse the further down the track list you get 💕 have fun kids

So just to start off, I think it’s funny that something Sufjan’s discography & Supernatural have in common is the 15+ years of the internet arguing if it’s gay or not, and the answer ending up being yes. PLUS there’s the obvious connection of American mythos + mythology + calvinist themes (I am hissing) + religious trauma prevalent in both.

If you’re a fan of both like I am, it’s easy to connect them— notable connections being songs like “John My Beloved” and “The Owl and the Tanager” or even “John Wayne Gacy Jr.”, but I’m going to focus on Sufjan's 2020 album, “The Ascension” since even the arc itself seems so connected to season 15 of Supernatural, specifically.

At least in my head it does <3 enjoy

MAKE ME AN OFFER I CANNOT REFUSE

When interviewed about the meaning of this track, Sufjan explains that this song is about asking God, “what do you have to say for humanity?” That it’s about desperation, creation, and devastation. It’s about frustration with divinity. Also the vibes are 10/10. Need I say more

RUN AWAY WITH ME

This song is beautiful, it makes me want to sit in some grass and stare at the sky.

Some lines that make me Dean/Cas crazy are the two lines in verse 1 and verse 2 that mirror each other by being in the same place melodically:

Verse 1: they will terrorize us / with new confusion / with the fear of life that seeks to bring despair within

Verse 2: I will bring you life / a new communion / with a paradise that brings the truth to light within

Yeahhh so the words “Despair” and “The Truth” were mirrored in this song yes it was coincidental yes I’m clinging to it. It fascinates me

But this song is about begging someone to stay with you.

sweet falling remedy / come run away with me / you’re all I ever need

VIDEO GAME

My first thought when I heard this song was about how it was such a song for enneagram 4s. If you don’t know what that means, I think Dean is a 4 and wrote a post about it here.

AND @trapperjohnmcintyre also made the connection between these lyrics and Dean in this post, and honestly I don’t need to say much more than that??

The song is about feeling paranoid and angry that God is controlling your every move and you can’t escape it (aka hating the doctrine of predestination). Of course it’s also about not wanting to follow societal scripts.

You just want to have an easier life instead of the weight of good and evil resting on your back!!!

I don’t want to put the devil on a pedestal / I don’t want put the saints in chains / I just want to make my life a little easier / I don’t want to play your video game

Also these painful lines, as a treat:

I don’t want to love you if you don’t receive it / I don’t want to save the world that way

Oh, I almost forgot, also. At the end, the narrator gives up. He’s like well I guess I can’t escape. Gotta follow the procedure. Gotta be a puppet.

I don’t want it to go down that way / but in a way you gotta follow the procedure / so go ahead and play your video game

LAMENTATIONS

I don’t have much to say about this one but this line always makes my heart ache idk:

I was only thinking of human kindness

TELL ME YOU LOVE ME

Here we gooooooo. Y’all aren’t ready.

Thesis: Tell me you love me despite the primordial darkness about to overtake me. And even if you don’t, I’m going to love you.

15x18 Despair anyone??

I want to just paste the whole song but, here—

DIE HAPPY

Yep, "Die Happy" immediately follows "Tell Me You Love Me." Yes, the lyrics are just “I want to die happy” over and over for almost 6 minutes.

First of all, the repetition mirrors the end of the song Fourth of July, from Sufjan’s previous album Carrie & Lowell, where Sufjan sings “we’re all gonna die” over and over.

Parallels, baby.

But I noticed something else about this recently though— in Die Happy, if you are listening to it in your headphones, there’s this weird sound that sounds like a wasp flying around your head (it made me uncomfortable which is why I noticed it, haha). After I felt unnerved for a moment, I had a realization— that this could be referencing one of Sufjan’s most beloved songs, “The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades Is Out To Get Us!!” (yes that’s a real song title lol)

The Predatory Wasp is about how Sufjan fell in love with his best friend at the Bible Camp he went to as a teenager. The wasp is a metaphor for internalized homophobia and also his love and how he fears his love will hurt the boy he’s in love with.

So, Die Happy references an iconic song from Illinois (2005) with these notable lines:

Tl;dr:

I want to die happy vs. I can’t explain the state that I’m in / the state of my heart / he was my best friend

Here’s an Despair photoset with Predatory Wasp lyrics via @toneelspeelster.

ATIVAN

So your best friend has just died happy by being in love with you. You feel like the primordial darkness is on YOU now:

I woke up in stereo—I spent the day in vertigo / I could not get the spirit off my back

You’re once again tossed in the waves of thinking that God is fucking with you. But either way you just want to be tranquilized at this point.

Is it all for something? Is it all part of a plan / tranquilize me, sanitize me, Ativan

Is it all for nothing? Is it all part of a plan? / make my death wish, mind my business / do the best I can with what I am

Ativan asks, was the true leading woman all this time… substance abuse??

Ativan / my leading woman

Long story short, you’re drunk on communion wine, asking the shadows to come back.

fill me with the blood of Jesus / clean my plate 'til he receives us / separate the colors from the black / ... / tell the shadows near us to come back

URSA MAJOR & LANDSLIDE

Not a lot to say about this (even though I love these songs) so I’m gonna skip mostly, but the narrator has decided he wants to love you, he can’t help it <3

GILGAMESH

Oh boy.

I mean you kinda know what’s coming because of the title. The Epic of Gilgamesh is the world’s oldest piece of epic world literature, and Gilgamesh was “the first hero of human history.”

In the world’s oldest story, The Epic of Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh and Enkidu are “very close friends” (their relationship is very homoerotic and this is barely disputed). Gilgamesh calls Enkidu his brother, and they are mutually selfless towards each other but when Enkidu dies, indirectly because of Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh has a breakdown and mourns him like that of a spouse and then has to come to terms with his own mortality.

The meta level of this is so obvious I’m not even going to go into it. Anyways… here are lyrics that make me want to scream!

the repetition of “my heart”... the concept of singing a eulogy.... saying your heart is chained to Your Angel............ it hurts

DEATH STAR

Star Wars reference my beloved. Like many of these songs this has Fuck You God energy.

what you call the human race / expedite the judgement day / it’s your own damn head on that plate

vandalize what you create / ... / witness me resist your fate / it’s your own damn head on that plate

GOODBYE TO ALL THAT

This song is a bop honestly

When the lyrics were released a bunch of Sufjan fans contrasted Goodbye To All That’s here I am alone in my car / hopelessly infatuted / and I’m driving to wherever you are to Sufjan & Moses Sumney’s song, “Make Out in My Car”.

Yeah, I know, we’re all thinking of this:

Make Out in My Car is basically where Moses gave Sufjan a horny car guy chorus and told him to write the verses, and Sufjan proceeded to write the most liturgical shit ever (and we love him for it). ANYWAYS… Goodbye To All That also reminds me of Dean’s depression and the weirdness that started in 15x19 and goes into 15x20. For some reason he makes it seem more upbeat and happy than it is...

Despite this song being a bop, the lyrics are depressing. He’s alone in his car. He’s hopeless. He realizes it’s too late to have died a young man.

He’s going to try to move on, even though nothing is left of him, he’s begging someone to turn around and show me his shadow.

He also references substance abuse again—

love me / and leave me / intoxicated

SUGAR

The music video? Iconic. The mom of a family is making a pie, or she’s trying to. She ends up rubbing the filling all over her face, crushing the fruits, the oven catches on fire.

But she does it! She makes the pie.

Meanwhile the other family members are in their rooms, overindulging in sugar in all its forms. And then as she and her family eat around a dining table, occassionally being seemingly marrioetted by some unseen force, she looks angrily over her family, they all seem to kind of lose it, then the house starts to come apart until the chandelier falls on the dinner table.

It’s the making pie + overindulgence in sugar + marionetted family metaphors for me ❤️

Ultimately, the song is about begging for affection, being desperate for domesticity, but you feel doomed, you feel like your defeat is predestined, that you can’t escape it.

You just don’t want to be heartbroken & you don’t want to be angry anymore!!!!

THE ASCENSION

So you may be asking… does this guy get the domesticity he’s longing for?? Does he get his love back??

No. He dies. :/

The Ascension begins with just that. He’s dying.

THEN Sufjan decides to rhyme “confess” with “confess”, in two lines that mean almost opposite things:

When I am dead / and the light leaves my breast / nothing to be told / nothing to confess / let the record show / what I couldn’t quite confess

So does this guy have something to confess or not??? 👀

Moving on…

He goes back to thinking about how his life was predestined all along, and now after all that, he’s dying. So he thinks about all the times he was kind of like this Mythological Icon. That he always had to be the one to show what was right, to lead by example. That that had been his entire identity.

And he realizes he needs to answer for himself.

Then he is frightened— realizing he was always asking what everything meant, what it all was for, but that all along he was just angry and depressed.

But even though he feels a like he should have just resigned himself to meaninglessness, that he only thought he could change the world for the better… it strengthened him to know the truth.

And even through the absolute shit of it all, and even though God & others did things from a place of so-called holiness and hopelessness...

He did everything out of love ❤️

So then he dies 🙃

AMERICA

So, as the end of The Ascension asked, what now?

The album ends on this long track, which Sufjan describes as a protest against all that America has been and has become.

It’s a protest against capitalism, of destroying humanity for the sake of some cold machinery.

I have worshipped / I believed / I have broke your bread / for a splendor of machinery

And in true Sufjan fashion, he makes this song about protesting somehow both horny and religious, god bless

I have loved you / like a dream / I have kissed your lips / like a Judas in heat

I have worshipped / I have cried / I have put my hands in the wounds on your side / I have tasted of your blood / I have choked on the waters / I abated the flood / I am broken / I am beat / but I will find my way / like a Judas in heat

I am fortune / I am free / I’m like a fever of light / in the land of opportunity / don’t do to me / what you did to America / don’t do to me / what you do to yourself

to finish out, here’s a DeanCas post by @eggcessive with lyrics from America ❤️ I HOPE YOU ENJOYED MY WEBWEAVING :)

#sufjannatural #sufjanatural #destiel meta #spn #deancas #sufjan #here it is.... my masterpiece #this didn't take as long as you'd think considering all of this has been on the tip of my tongue for months #<3 I hope others freak out along with me <3 I'm obsessed with the album and his voice #I feel kinda weird posting this bc this album also had like a ton of personal spiritual significance to me.... but it's fine #those things can be connected

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max-is-tired · 5 years ago

Text

Misconceptions: A Show

Pairing: Intrulogical

Characters: Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit Sanders.

Words: 3.941

Warnings: sympathetic Deceit & Remus, swearing, some graphic talk bc it’s Remus, screaming in caps

Notes: Finally, I can post this monster of a fic -hey there, @princeyssash, guess who was your secret santa? This fic was honestly so much fun to write, I swear -I loved all of the prompts I had, but this one just called to me,,, I had to,,

Big thanks to @purp-man for betaing this fic for me and listening to my 3am rambles, and shoutout to @afulldeckofaces for helping me flesh out some plot points, like Virgil memeing his way through Roman’s plans. You’re the absolute best <33

Commission me!! Buy me a coffee!! My Discord server!! AO3!!

It was a normal day in the mindscape.

Patton was humming happily in the kitchen, shuffling around with a pep in his step as he mixed the batter for some cookies. In the living room, Logan and Virgil were enjoying each other’s company while doing their own thing, may it be reading or half-slouching on the couch while scrolling aimlessly through Tumblr.

Everything was peaceful.

Until it wasn’t.

“YOU DIRTY LITTLE SEWER RAT GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!!”

Everyone jumped at the sudden shout, Virgil going as far as tumbling off the couch with a startled yelp. From upstairs, Remus’ unmistakable laughter bounced on the walls, followed shortly after by the twin himself bolting down the stairs with a maniacal grin on his face.

“Oh god,” Virgil groaned from the floor, pinching the bridge of his nose, “what the fuck did he do now?”

“Language, kiddo,” Patton called, emerging from the kitchen with a confused frown on his face.

Turns out, they didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“REMUS!!” Roman screeched, running down the stairs. He looked thoroughly pissed, eyes flashing dangerously as he glared daggers at his brother.

Virgil took one look at him, blinked, and then promptly broke down cackling.

“Stop laughing, Hot Topic!” Roman exclaimed, cheeks flushing red. Not that his blush was very noticeable, due to the various scribbles and crude drawings covering his face. “Look at what he did to my beautiful face!”

“You just don’t understand real art, brother dearest,” Remus snickered, waving the marker in his hand around.

“Oh, I’ll show you real art,” Roman muttered darkly, unsheathing his sword as he stalked down the last steps of the stairs.

At the sight of the unsheathed sword, Virgil’s eyes widened in alarm, his body tensing slightly as it became clear the situation was starting to escalate. Beside him, Logan looked at the two brothers, sighed in resignation and snapped the book in his hands shut.

“That’s quite enough, you two,” he said, staring the two brothers down with a raised eyebrow.

“Specs, he drew penises on my face! Multiple times!!”

“Which you can easily snap off with a wave of your hand,” Logan pointed out, “I do not believe there is any need for all this screaming, or for weapons to be brought into the picture.”

“Logan, you don’t understand, I gotta fight him now! For my honor!!” Roman exclaimed, waving his arms around -and therefore further proving Logan’s point by almost cutting Deceit’s head off as the side rose up to check what the commotion was about.

“Oi, watch it!” Deceit called out, ducking to avoid another accidental swipe of Roman’s sword, “who are you, Zuko?”

“If Roman’s Zuko then Logan is totally Uncle Iroh,” Virgil added, still lying on the floor.

Logan shrugged. “If we are referring to the first season of Avatar: The Last Airbender then yes, I can see the similarities.”

Roman squinted at them, finally lowering his sword. “There is an insult somewhere in that phrase. I don’t know where, but I know there is.”

“It’s because you’re a dumb-head, bro!” Remus cackled, once again calling the attention to himself.

Roman growled, looking more than ready to stalk through the room and tackle his twin to the ground, but Logan anticipated him before the situation could escalate once again.

“Remus, I believe this is quite enough,” he said, turning towards the aforementioned twin.

“Aw, but Logan, I’m just having some fun!”

Logan simply raised an eyebrow, staring him down.

“Ugh, fiiiine!” Remus finally groaned, throwing the marker somewhere behind himself, “that does not mean I’m happy about it though!”

Then, he sank out.

Peace once again established, Logan hummed and leaned back on the couch, going back to reading his book.

Or at least that was the plan.

“What the fuck just happened?” Virgil asked, staring at him in disbelief.

“Virgil, language!!”

“Sorry Padre, but I gotta agree with Cout Woelaf here,” Roman said, sword laying limp in his grip, “that was nothing less but weird.”

“I honestly do not understand where all of this apparent confusion is coming from,” Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You told Remus to stop!” Roman exclaimed, throwing his arms up, “and he listened to you!!”

“Roman, your sword!” Deceit hissed in frustration, having had to duck for the third time to avoid being cut in tiny scaley pieces. “If you don’t put it down this instant I might just try and stab you with it, do not try me.”

Roman grumbled but complied, making the sword disappear with a wave of his hand. Then, he crossed his arms, looking once again towards the logical side. “My point still stands though. Remus never listens to anyone, like, ever.”

“Yeah, I think I have to agree with them here Lo,” Patton said, still standing under the kitchen’s doorway, “that was a little weird.”

“Well, I do not know what to tell you,” Logan countered, “I asked him to stop, he complied and then sank out -it’s as simple as that.”

“If you say so,” Roman said, squinting at him in suspicion.

From the other side of the room, Deceit gave him A Look, appearing to be torn between amusement and concern. Logan subtly raised an eyebrow in response, making sure the others would not notice their silent exchange.

After all, it wasn’t like he could just tell them the truth, could he?

+++

When Logan finally sank up in his room, sometime later, he was not surprised to see a very familiar side sprawled on his bed, head hanging from the side of the mattress as he threw a tiny dagger up and down in the air.

“Lolo!!” Remus grinned, spotting him, “took you a while, I was starting to get bored!”

“I wanted to finish this novel first,” Logan said, putting the book in question back to its place in his large library, “it was rather interesting.”

“You know what would be interesting?” Remus asked, not looking away from the other as he kept playing with his dagger, “to find out what would happen if this dagger hit me in the eye!! Do you think it would reach all the way to my brain?”

“I suppose it would,” Logan hummed, sitting beside the creative side and quickly catching the dagger out of the air when Remus threw it again, “but between proving that hypothesis and spending the rest of the day with my not-injured husband, I think I prefer the second option more.”

“Oh really?” Remus grinned, sitting up -a slim silver chain fell out of his shirt with the movement, the golden ring hanging from it twinkling in the light of the room. “And tell me, how would you like to spend that time, my dear?”

Logan hummed, the light pressure of his own ring hiding under his shirt bringing a smile to his face. “Oh, I’m sure my dear husband will have some ideas of his own to share.”

“Oh, you are wicked,” Remus said, before leaning in to capture Logan’s lips in a kiss.

+++

For a while, it seemed like whatever had happened in the living room had been forgotten -the others were still confused by how easy it was for Logan to make Remus listen to him, but most of them waved it off as Logic easily overpowering Intrusive Thoughts with rationality and all that shit.

(Deceit knew better than that, but that was mostly because lying to him was next to impossible and Logan had been smart enough to let him in on their secret as soon as it had started to become a serious thing, both to help the couple lie to the other sides and to avoid him finding out on his own and potentially jeopardizing their cover.)

Point is, no one had yet discovered the real reason between the apparent chemistry between the two sides. But that didn’t mean they weren’t starting to notice things.

The first one to start suspecting something was, surprisingly enough, Virgil.

He had been sneaking to the kitchen around 3am, planning to grab a quick snack from the pantry and then tip-toe back to his own room, all the while hoping not to alert anyone of his nighttime escapade -he had already been at the receiving end of several stern talks about his fucked-up sleeping schedule and did not want to have to sit through another one, thank you very much.

What he had not been expecting, was to find himself staring at Logan’s back, the logical side looking busy filling two mugs with steaming water.

Virgil froze on his tracks, eyes wide in alarm as he tried to figure out how to sneak back out of the kitchen and up the stairs without being noticed. Unfortunately, Logan seemed to have other ideas and turned around before the anxious side could make up his mind about the next course of action.

“Uh,” Logan said, blinking in surprise, “hello, Virgil. I have to be honest, I was not expecting to meet anyone at this hour of the night.”

“Likewise, I guess,” Virgil shrugged, giving the other a tiny smile, “why are you up at this hour anyway? Weren’t you the one waxing poetry about the importance of a regular sleep schedule?”

“I got sidetracked, I guess. One late night won’t harm me in any way or form, I assure you.”

Virgil snickered. “I’m telling Patton you said that.”

“I don’t think you will,” Logan countered, calm as ever as he put down the kettle and moved to grab the two cups, “because if you do I will tell Patton about you sneaking into the kitchen at 3am with, as it appears, not a single ounce of sleep in your body.”

“... harsh, L. Real harsh.”

“Just stating facts,” Logan said, before walking out of the kitchen.

Virgil stared after him, watching the logical side leisurely cross the living room and walk up the stairs until he could not see him anymore. Then, he shrugged, quickly walking to the pantry and grabbing the snack he had come for.

He straightened up, holding triumphantly a bag of chips, only to freeze up again when a tiny detail finally struck him.

“Wait, why the fuck did he have two mugs?”, he wondered, turning back to glance at the stairs. Then, he turned towards the kitchen counter, noticing a little bag sitting just to the side of where Logan had been standing just a few seconds before.

“Kuding Tea” read the caption on the front of the bag, the inside filled with slim, dark tea nails.

Virgil frowned, rolling the name around in his head. He was sure he had heard it before, but where?

+++

The second one was Roman.

He had been strolling idly around the Imagination, humming a song under his breath as he walked along a path in the woods. Of course, his guard wasn’t completely down, not now that he was so near Remus’ side of the Imagination -while his relationship with his brother had greatly improved in the last year or so, he was still very much aware of the dangerous creatures lurking in his brother’s domain, and Roman had no desire to be caught by surprise by one of them.

Could you imagine the teasing, if Remus ever were to find out?

So yeah, he was still being very attentive to his surroundings -that’s probably half of the reason why he found himself hesitating when what sounded like distant laughter reached his ears.

Roman stilled, focusing on his surroundings. But all he could hear was silence, and after a few more seconds he was about ready to shrug it off to his imagination.

Then, the same, faint sound echoed from somewhere in the forest.

Curious, Roman started following the sound, watching his steps as his hand moved to hover over the handle of his sword -better be safe than sorry, he figured.

It didn’t take long for him to reach his destination, the forest receding just a few feet in front of him to make room for a vast, lush clearing. What he found, however, was something he could have never fathomed.

In the middle of the clearing, sitting on the grass in front of each other, were Remus and Logan, looking way too engrossed in their own conversation to notice the stunned prince staring at them from just behind a tree.

Remus seemed to be showing Logan something, looking completely enraptured by whatever Logan was saying.

The logical side was talking animatedly, waving his hands around with a grin as he occasionally gestured to something sitting between them. And Remus, well, he was staring at Logan with an expression Roman was pretty sure he’d never seen on his twin’s face.

He was looking at Logan like he was the sole holder of every secret of the universe, like he was everything he could see and hear.

He looked absolutely, utterly smitten, and Roman did not know what to do with that information.

+++

For Patton, well, it was more of a gradual realization.

He may not be the smartest in the group, but he was not by any means an idiot. He had noticed right away the potential chemistry between the two sides, the way Logan never seemed to be fazed by Remus’ shenanigans or the way Remus seemed to enjoy poking fun at the logical side.

Initially, he had not been very thrilled about it. But as time went on and they started to get closer to the dark sides, he could see how those two being friends could be highly beneficial for everyone, Remus and Logan included.

And he thought that was all it was -a blossoming friendship!

But the more time passed, the more Patton started to realize how that wasn’t exactly the case.

He didn’t know what initially tipped him off, really. Maybe it was the shared glances when one of them thought the other wasn’t looking, or the smile both of the sides seemed to fight down when in the presence of the other.

Maybe it was the subtle change in Logan’s demeanor, the way he’d grown calmer, happier, metaphorically softer around the edges ever since he and Remus had started growing closer.

Something was starting to bloom between the two sides, and Patton was not so sure it was a simple, innocent friendship anymore.

+++

Things came to a head one fateful Saturday afternoon, with Logan stuck revising schedules with Thomas and Remus doing who-knows-what in the Imagination.

The other sides were all lounging in the living room, all doing their own thing.

Then, Roman spoke up.

“Do you guys think something’s going on between Remus and Logan?”

Virgil, who was very much not expecting to hear something like that in the foreseeable future, jumped up from where he had been sprawled on the couch, headphones hanging limp from his neck as he stared wide-eyed at the creative side.

“Please tell me you’re not implying what I think you are implying.”

Roman shrugged, looking away as he scratched the base of his neck. “I don’t know what to tell you, Panic! At The Everywhere -I’m just asking.”

“If I have to be completely honest, actually,” piped up Patton from his place on the floor, stopping the episode of Parks & Rec they had been using as a background, “I have noticed some strange things too.”

“Right??” Roman exclaimed, “I saw them in the Imagination, last week, and I swear to god at one point Remus’ expression almost rivaled the way Logan usually looks at a jar of Crofters.”

“Whoa there Princey,” Virgil said, “don’t you think you’re exaggerating a little?”

“I know what I saw, J.D-lightful.”

“And I think Logan could be developing some feelings for Remus, even if he probably hasn’t quite realized it yet,” Patton added.

Virgil went to argue, but suddenly a realization struck him.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered in shock, suddenly looking like he was reevaluating everything he’d ever known.

“What?” Roman asked, confused.

“I caught Logan down in the kitchen, the other day,” Virgil explained, “he was brewing two cups of tea -which I found rather strange, really, but it was something like 3am so I didn’t question it too much. But I saw the name of the tea he brewed, and it felt familiar but I didn’t connect the dots until now.”

“Well?” Roman prompted, “We’re on the edge of our seats here, Marilyn Morose.”

“It was Kuding Tea, aka Remus’ favorite,” Virgil revealed. “He made us brew it all the time, and he was the only one able to drink that stuff because it’s one of the most bitter things you could ever try to swallow.”

Patton hummed, looking deep in thought. “Looks like those two might be closer than we thought.”

Roman grinned, something akin to mischief glinting in his eyes. “How about we help them grow just a little bit closer, uh?”

“We can discuss all of that later, Ro, but first there’s another thing we need to talk about,” Patton said, before turning to look at Virgil with a stern look on his face. “Virgil Sanders, what’s this I hear about you being up at 3am again?”

(Engrossed as they were in the new revelations, none of the sides noticed the tiny smirk stretching on Deceit’s face as he watched the scene unfold. He could have tried to stop them from trying to meddle, sure.

But where would be the fun in that?)

+++

As it turned out, not a single one of the sides’ plans came even close to its goal.

First came Patton’s idea, which was arguably the most subtle. They set up a family dinner, pestering the two sides until they confirmed their presence at the table. Then, very last minute, everyone gave random excuses as to why they couldn’t come. Everyone was sure it would work, even if they didn’t stick around to find out -knowing Remus’s tendency to make things rather… spicy, they didn’t want to find out what would happen after the two finally confessed their feelings.

However, when, the day after, they asked Logan how the dinner had gone, the logical side simply leveled them with a confused stare.

“Since you all weren’t there we just agreed to bring the food back to our rooms and keep doing our work -I still had some possible scripts to read through so it worked just fine for me.”

So, it looked like plan A had been a failure.

Roman, in all of his finesse and “romantic prowess” (his exact words), decided to put his own plan in action -which consisted of not-so-subtly shoving the two sides in the same room and “accidentally” break the doorknob, effectively trapping them inside.

(“Wow, a true Cupido alright.”

“Oh, shut up, you Emo Nightmare.”)

However, Roman’s incredible, astonishing, foolproof plan (again, his exact words) did not account for one specific aspect, aka Remus’ tendency of not letting puny, material things like doors keep him trapped.

In less than five minutes, the two sides were free once again, easily sidestepping what little remained of the door with Remus still holding his morning star in his hands.

And just like that, plan B joined its predecessor down the metaphorical toilet.

Last came Virgil’s plan, which was quite different from the other two’s -it was succinct, concise, and the farthest thing from subtle you could ever think of.

“Hey L,” he called one day, not even looking up from his phone, “what if you went and kissed Remus?”

Logan slowly looked up from his book. “... I apologize, what?”

Virgil shrugged, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding. Unless…?”

Logan blinked at him, looking thoroughly confused. “Virgil, are you unwell? How many hours of rest did you get last night?”

And that’s how plan C joined its sibling down in the metaphorical sewer.

(“Your plan was a meme??”

“At least I didn’t try to cliché them into a relationship, Princey.”)

Point is, by the end of the week the three sides had still to come up with a tactic that could actually work. So, they planned another brainstorm question in the living room.

Only, they appeared to have greatly miscalculated Remus and Logan’s whereabouts.

“Alright, you guys want to share with the class what the fuck is going on already?”

The three sides jumped in unison, whipping their heads around to stare at the two sides standing at the bottom of the stairs. Remus was leaning on the railing, looking at them expectantly, while Logan was standing just beside him with his arms crossed in front of his chest, one single eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“Uuuuuh…” Patton spoke up, looking at the other two in search of help, “language?”

“Pat, I think my language is the least of our problems now,” Remus retorted, refusing to drop the subject, “so, who wants to start talking first?”

The three sides, who looked like three deers caught in the headlights, seemed to grow more panicked by the second, searching for a possible explanation and coming up empty-handed.

“We found out you guys have a crush on each other and wanted to help you two get together!” Roman finally blurted.

“Roman!” Virgil growled, turning to glare at the creative side.

“I’m sorry!” Roman squeaked, throwing his arms up in frustration.

“You could have been a little more… tactful about it, kiddo,” Patton said, smiling nervously as they all waited with bated breath what the two’s reactions would be.

Logan and Remus blinked, dumbfounded. Then, they turned to look at each other, before Remus decided that the best course of action was, of course, to break down into hysterical giggles, compete with wheezing and tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

As for Logan, well, he limited himself to chuckling, looking downright amused by the whole situation.

So yeah, not exactly the reactions the others were expecting.

“... what?” Virgil asked, “please tell me I’m not the only confused one right now.”

“Apologies, Virgil,” Logan said, as Remus kept merrily cackling his lungs out on the floor, “we just thought something serious was going on, since you have all been acting strangely during the last week or so. Discovering that the reason behind your strange behavior was that, well, is rather amusing.”

“Wait, is that your way of telling us you actually don’t like Remus?” Roman said.

“Actually, I do like him, in a romantic sense,” Logan chuckled, throwing a fond look at the side wheezing on the ground. “We have been engaged in a romantic relationship for a while now.”

“... I know I probably sound like a broken record but what?”

“He wants to tap this booty, Vee!” Remus cackled, “and I’m 100% down for that!”

“ By the horn of a unicorn, please spare us the details,” Roman muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So that means you guys are already in a relationship?!” Patton exclaimed, a wide grin on his face as he clapped his hands in obvious delight, “oh my gosh, that’s so cute! I’m so happy for you guys!!”

“I don’t know if I want to be angry because you guys didn’t tell us or because my brother somehow managed to score a boyfriend before me,” Roman grumbled.

Logan and Remus shared a glance at that, mischief twinkling in both of their eyes. Then, once it appeared they were both on the same page, Remus spoke, barely stopping himself from giggling in anticipation.

“Actually we’re married, but go off I guess.”

Silence fell, seconds ticking by as the news started to sink in.

“Now hold on a second you guys aRE WHAT-”

And then, chaos.

#sanders sides #intrulogical #lomus #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #swearing #caps #intrulogical fluff #lomus fluff #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #maxiswriting

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cutesuki--bakugou · 5 years ago

Text

Sweet, Like Daisies

Pairing: Usagiyama Rumi (Miruko) x Gender Neutral Reader

Story Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff / Humor

Story Warnings: Some cursing and flirting, but mostly just cuteness that could rot your teeth.

a/n: This is my art of the bnharem Discord server SFW collab, with the theme of Flowers! I decided to base my part around Daisies, which represent innocence. Rumi can be a cute and fluffy bunny just as much as she can be super fierce and I love her to death. This story also marks my beginning of writing for characters other than Bakugou! I will be posting them on this blog. If there’s anything you’d like to see, lmk! (♡´౪`♡)

Thank you so much to everyone in the server for this wonderful experience! I had so much fun and I can’t wait for the next one!

*｡Collab Masterlist *｡

--Full art piece--

“Let’s go, let’s go! Don’t tell me you’re all tuckered out already!”

“Rumi, you gotta- oh damn, my legs are on fire! What is with this hill?!”

Coming to a stop as you pulled yourself up onto a boulder jetting out of the hillside, you flopped to sit onto your butt, rubbing your burning thigh vigorously. It was a miracle that you had even made it this far, your body not exactly used to these physically challenging hikes that your girlfriend just loved to drag you on. They were easy for her, considering that she was not only one of the top pro heroes in the country, but her quirk gave her incredibly strong legs and just overall physical strength. Her bunny legs allowed her to hop over any difficult obstacle, but you? All you could do was drag yourself along, barely keeping up with her by the skin of your teeth.

“Don’t be a wimp! You’re almost there!” Squatting down at the edge of her current perch, Rumi had that typical wicked and expectant grin on her face, a few loose strands of her white hair falling around her forehead and cheeks. “You got this, Carrot!”

“Carrot… Out of all nicknames, why did you have to pick that one.” With a huff, you pulled yourself up to your feet, using the roots and rocks to help you up the steep incline.

“Oh, because I could just eat you up, of course!” Rumi gave a teasing scrunch of her nose, one of her long rabbit ears giving a twitch in satisfaction of her response. You, however, immediately grew embarrassed, losing your footing. Scrambling to catch yourself, you got secure again before turning your glare up towards her, your face burning fiercely as she laughed at your reaction. She had a talent for making you so embarrassed you could barely stand it, but really, who could blame you?

Rumi was witty and intelligent. Confident and strong. Beautiful and caring. There wasn’t an ounce of timidness in her, which is not what people would expect when they hear the word ‘rabbit’. They would think quiet, reserved, innocent, fearful, and adorable. She was adorable, to be sure, but none of those other qualities showed themselves. Actually, they showed themselves in you.

Before you had met Rumi, you were very shy, easily overwhelmed and lacking in confidence. And still, somehow, this bright and extravagant woman had taken great interest in you, building you up higher and higher until you were finally beginning to see the sun for the first time in so many years. She pushed you to better yourself, to grow stronger and happier in your own skin, and although what she encouraged was hard, it was worth every moment and struggle.

Even if she could make you so flustered you’d want to go hide under a rock sometimes.

“Rumi! Stop that, don’t try to embarrass me while I’m climbing, I could fall!”

“You dumbass, ya think I’d let you fall? Never!” When you finally got close, Rumi reached down and took hold of your forearm, waiting until you got your own grip on hers before she helped to hoist you up. Her effortless strength astounded you as always, but you didn’t have much time to admire it, as she began to move down the past the instant you were steady on your feet. “C’mon, Carrot, move that tush!”

Sighing heavily in exhaustion, you forced your burning legs to walk forward, wiping your dirt stained hands on your similarly dirtied khaki shorts. “We’re almost to a resting point, right?”

“Yes. There’s a nice little clearing here, we can take a break!” Rumi lifted her arms up over her head, giving a drawn out and satisfied groan as she stretched. Nestled at her lower back, her white fluffy tail puffed out and shook in the same moment, bringing a smile to your lips. She was just so incredibly perfect, and you couldn’t help but feel so lucky.

After walking for a while in silence to enjoy the sounds of nature, Rumi came to a stop, starting to maneuver her way through the trees and brush. “We have to go off the path a bit. Watch out for spiders ‘n shit. And stinging nettle. I’m not gonna rub that ointment all over your body if you fall in it again!”

Remembering the painful experience of falling face first into a batch of stinging nettle the last time you went hiking, you were sure to observe your surroundings thoroughly before following her. The brush and twigs scratched and poked your legs uncomfortably, but your thick hiking boots helped you to trudge through it without much problem. When you finally breached the edge of the forest into the clearing, you had to squint a bit from the brightness of the morning sun, bringing a hand up to shield your eyes.

When your eyes finally adjusted, you found yourself standing at the edge of a large field of wildflowers and tall grass, which swayed with the cool spring breeze. It felt so heavenly against your hot and sweaty skin, and the brilliant view of the hills and trees in the distance brought a smile to your lips. Being out in the wilderness wasn’t exactly your favorite thing, but you could admit that it truly was beautiful.

“How’s this for a resting spot, eh?” Rumi quite literally knocked you back into reality with a rough, playful nudge to your side, grinning up at you. “Will this do, your highness?”

“Hey, don’t patronize me like that! I get tired, I don’t have thighs of steel like you do.” You took her hand tenderly in yours as she grabbed it, your fingers lacing instinctively.

“Excuses! C’mon, let’s sit under that tree, it has shade.” Leading you forward as always, Rumi nearly had a skip in her step, her white hair bobbing in its high, messy ponytail. The tree that was chosen was a lonely one, growing out in the field alone. With all the extra room, the roots were large and snaked in and out of the ground like tentacles, and lush green leaves were at full bloom. It was comfortable and beautiful.

Shrugging off your pack, you rested it up against the tree trunk next to Rumi’s, pulling your water bottle out of the side pocket to take a healthy swig. “This really is a nice area, Rumi. How’d you find it?” Sitting down in the grass beside her, you offered her the water bottle, which she took.

“I’ve been hikin’ this trail awhile. It’s challenging, so not a lot of losers try to take it, only those that are strong enough.” After taking a sip of water, Rumi leaned her head back, squeezing the bottle so water trickled lightly onto her face and top of her head. “It is warm today, though! Especially for being spring.”

“Ah, well I can relate to those losers, I shouldn’t be on this hill either-- ACK, hey!” Suddenly, you were sprayed in the face with water, perpetrated by a very annoyed bunny.

“Don’t belittle yourself like that! Be proud, you killed that fucking hill!”

Grumbling from defeat, you ran your hand down your face to wipe the water away, glowering at your lover as she glared right back up at you with a pout that boarded on adorable. Calming down, you smiled, nodding in agreement. “Ah, sorry, sorry. You’re right. I should be proud of myself.”

“You should! My baby isn’t a loser.” Leaning up, Rumi placed a rough kiss against your cheek, her hand pressing against your other to make sure you couldn’t flee. You’d never want to, of course, so you let her punish you with the kiss, which was followed by a much more tender one before she set you free.

Smiling, you turned your attention to the grass around your legs, which was peppered with daisies and dandelions. You felt so calm and at peace in the silence of nature, and with your lover by your side, you were feeling quite… soft. That’s the only way you could describe your current emotions, so you soaked in it for a while, leaning back and supporting yourself with your hands.

After a while of peace, you leaned forward again to give your arms a rest, turning your attention back to the flowers around you. Carefully, you began to pluck the daisies out of the ground, making sure to keep their stem long. As if in a trance, you slowly began working on winding the stems of the flowers together, growing too focused on your work and the rustling of the wind to notice that you were being watched closely. In fact, you were so startled by Rumi’s voice that you jumped, nearly crushing your delicate flower arrangement in surprise.

“What’cha makin’ there, Carrot?”

“Erm… uh, a flower crown. I guess?” You brought both ends of the strip of flowers together to check the size, finding that it still wasn’t quite long enough to fit an adult head. “I used to make them as a kid. It’s been a while since I’ve been near so many daisies.”

With another sly smile, Rumi leaned against your side, resting her head on your shoulder. “Oooh, how grossly cute and sweet! Should I start calling you Baby Carrot?”

“W-what?! No, no, don’t do that, you’re gonna make me want to puke. Why don’t you call me something normal like… babe or hun.”

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy!” After giving you a playful nudge to the arm, Rumi turned her attention to the flowers around you both, plucking a daisy from its stem and bringing it up to her nose. “Y’know, for such a cute little flower, they have an awful smell. But damn, they’re tasty.” To your horror, Rumi chomped the entire bloomed flower head off the stem, making you yelp in disgust and cover your mouth.

“Rumi! That’s a wildflower! You can’t just eat it!”

“Hm?” Rumi looked up at you curiously, batting her long lashes in confusion. “I eat flowers all the time. I love their taste! They aren’t bitter to me at all. Restaurants sell them!”

“Y-yeah, but baby, they wash them first at least…” You felt your stomach churn as she picked up another flower, dousing it with water from your bottle. “Rumi! Don’t be a smart ass!”

“What, this one’s not for me!” Smirking, she held the now soggy and dripping flower up to your lips, making you cringe backwards with a sour expression. “Open up!”

“No way!” You covered your mouth with your hand, knowing that she would shove it in at the first opportunity. “There’s no way I’m eating a flower! At least not one that hadn’t been cleaned or anything properly! You have the stomach of a rabbit, you can handle it, I can’t!”

“What, you scared of getting worms?!” She poked you on the nose with the flower, leaning more against you. “You won’t get anything that’ll kill you!”

“I would, I just know it!” With a final wave of your hand, Rumi took the flower away, tossing it over her shoulder and back into the grass. “You wasted it?”

“Putting water on it made it soggy, I ain’t gonna eat that! Hey, show me how to make one of these!” Scooting around to face you, Rumi gazed down curiously at the still unfinished crown in your lap. “This shit is stupid; it has to be easy!”

“Well, it’s kind of hard, you have to be pretty gentle with the flowers. Here,” You plucked four daisies with a long stem, handing them to her before you plucked two more of your own. With detailed instruction, you showed her exactly how to twist and wind the stems, but you could see that she was already struggling with the delicate procedure. The frustrated pout was permanently plastered on her fair face, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowed. Still, she was trying and as focused as she could be.

“How the hell are you doing that so perfectly?!” Rumi eventually snapped, leaning over you a bit to really see your almost finished crown up close. “Look at that! It almost looks fake!”

Laughing softly, you finished off by connecting the two ends of the crown together, holding it up a bit to look at it clearly in the sun. “I told you, I’ve done this before. It’s not that big of a deal, babe. Here,” Turning to face her, you plopped the flower crown onto her the top of her head between her ears, making them flatten out backwards in immediate embarrassment and the tickling of the flowers against the sensitive skin.

Cheeks flushing dark, Rumi scoffed, glaring up at you as she resisted the urge to reach up and rip it off. “Get this thing off of me, I’m not some damn fairy!”

“Aw, but you look so adorable with it on.” You couldn’t resist the wide smile on your lips, especially as Rumi only grew more flustered, her ears snapping up in agitation and making the flower crown bend a bit, though it didn’t fall from her head. “It just makes you look so cute and innocent!”

“I’m not!” Rumi scooted herself closer so that she was sitting right up against your crossed legs, letting hers rest on either side of your hips. “Call me cute and innocent again and I’ll make you regret it!” As if it were a punishment, Rumi reached up and plopped her sloppy excuse for a flower crown onto the top of your head. The instant it landed, it broke apart, showering you with crumpled daisies. Unable to help it, you began to laugh, which only grew harder as Rumi began to rage and stutter. “Dammit! Fucking flowers! This is why I just eat the damn things! Stop laughing at me, Carrot!”

Covering your mouth, you gave a defeated shake of your head, holding your other hand up in defense. “I’m sorry, Rumi, it was just too funny! And so cute!”

Before you could even find the time to react, you were tackled down into the grass, immediately smothered by the feral animal before you. Latching onto her instinctively, you were at her mercy as she gripped your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips to pucker, even as your laughter continued.

“I told you! You call me cute, you’re gonna die! I-” Suddenly, the flower crown slipped off the top of her head and onto your face, framing it perfectly. The shock silenced you immediately, staring up at Rumi in surprise. She was just as perturbed as you were, but after a moment her wonder broke into a grin, chuckling as she released your cheeks. “Look who’s all cute and innocent now! Ya dork.”

Not bothering to remove the crown, you smiled softly, reaching up to caress Rumi’s cheeks tenderly. “No one in this entire world is cuter than you, baby.”

“Says the person with a flower crown on their face and daisies stuck in their hair. Hey!”

Rumi’s ears parted again as you took the crown off your face, placing it carefully on her head again to where it wouldn’t fall. This time, instead of getting angry, Rumi’s cheeks flushed again, and a cheeky smile stretched across her lips. “You aren’t gonna give up, are ya?”

“Never. Besides, innocence is a great look for you. Just please don’t eat anymore daisies.”

“Nah, flowers aren’t all that appetizing. I think I’m in the mood for some Carrot, instead.”

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