#the dialogue equivalent of rubbing it in front of me

[tomurderornottomurder]

miguel and the multiversal nothing; miguel o'hara

pair. miguel o'hara x gn!reader

summ. even without a single tie to spider-man, you and miguel are friends. one night he gives you an existential crisis over that fact.

gen. fluff, angst, existential crisis comfort

wc. 1.4k

tw. existential crisis, food, miguel has FEELINGS, ooc miguel, dialogue heavy

note. i'm not abiding by any multiverse rules.  miguel o'hara needs friends. implied platonic but feel free to interpret romantically.

As it seems to be getting more common, it's raining. A soothing beat against your windows and roof with the added instrumentals of thunder and the visuals of lightning. It's a usual night for you. Work was over about four hours ago and you ate dinner two before and now you're simply admiring the view with a warm drink. Instead of pacing back and forth like a madman, you take a seat on your chair perpetually stationed facing one of the eight-foot-tall windows. As soon as you sit down, a rather polite though loud thud sounds against the window leading to your fire escape. (Yes, a window instead of a door. You didn't get an answer from your landlord.) Setting your drink down, you get up and quickly make your way to the fire escape. You bend down to slide the window open, letting in a soaked other-Spider-Man. Or Miguel as you like to occasionally call him.

"Another one of those things here?" You help him through the window, one hand in his, and the other on his back. 

"Anomalies," He corrects you. Like always.

"Yeah, that. Or those." You look up at him as he now stands straight and half a foot above you. Before you can let him answer, a drop of rain falling from him and straight into your eye makes you remember something, "Towel?" You rub your eye as you walk away, the answer already known.

"Yes, please." 

You're back with the towel fairly quickly, handing it off to him, then strolling into the kitchen. "So, the anomalies?" You open the fridge. "Are you staying the night?" You look at him for his answer.

"Yes. Is that alright?"

"Where else would you stay?" An unintentional cut to the truth. Of course, you didn't catch this but Miguel did.  

With a container in each hand, you walk toward Miguel as he takes a seat at your kitchen island. "Brought some stuff from work. Do you like chicken or steak better?" 

"Steak." 

"I knew that!" You laugh. "Just checking."

"Checking what?" 

"If you're you."

Miguel raises a brow at you, looking through you as if that'd make you explain yourself. It works but it's not like it always does.

"Multiverse, right?" You put both containers in your universe's version of a microwave. "So, multiple of you. And me. And everyone-"

That's now how it works.

"-Maybe another one of you found me."

Impossible. You have zero connection to Spider-Man. You're not an MJ or Gwen Stacy or Peter Parker or Mom or Dad or Uncle or Aunt or Ned Leeds or Ganke or Harry or Norman Osborn. Nothing even close. You've never even been saved by your universe's Spider-Man or put in danger by him or even met him. You only know about him because everyone else does. 

The microwave equivalent beeps and as you open it, you ask, "That could happen, right?" 

"No."

Miguel's not usually snappy like this. You ponder something. Maybe not snappy. Curt. Is that the same thing? "How come?" You flop the food from each container onto a plate. 

Miguel swallows. The collar of his suit is tightening. Suddenly, he doesn't belong. He really shouldn't be here anyway. "It wouldn't," He shrugs.

"You know," You slide his plate over, "you just don't want to tell me. Why don't you want to tell me?" You give him a playfully questioning look. You slide him a fork as you wait for a response. 

Miguel grabs his fork, looking down at the food in front of him. He can feel your eyes burning into the top of his head. What happened to his resolve around you? You weren't even that close. You could barely call yourself friends being from different universes and maybe seeing each other every few months. On the other hand, you let him stay in your house in your bed, you patch him up if need be, you make him a makeshift dinner sometimes even breakfast, you confide in him he confides in you, on occasion you've watched a movie together almost always falling asleep together, sometimes you fix his hair- Okay, we get it. So, you're friends. He says something.

"What?"

"You have no relation to Spider-Man."

"What?" You ask again, much more expressive and confused, now staring at him.

"That's why it wouldn't happen."

You're quiet. What did that even mean? No relation to Spider-Man? But aren't you friends with Miguel? "No worries then," You swallow, keeping eye contact with the piece of chicken that is now very intriguing. You'd said it as a joke with nothing else to say. "What-" You look at him, "What does that mean?"

Miguel sighs, he doesn't quite meet your eyes. "Do you remember what I said about MJs and Gwens? Well, essentially... you're a background character."

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!

He can tell by your face that that was not the right way to explain that. "I mean, there's probably no other version of you. There would be no other you for another me to ever find or meet. That's why..."

You can't tell whether this is good or bad news. Truly one you. Did that make you endlessly unique or a neverending pit of boredom? "Then why do you... hang out with me?" 

"I... I don't know. I like you. You're-"

"Wait, Miguel, stop for a minute. Just let me eat before I throw up. And also have a nervous breakdown. Okay?" 

He nods solemnly. Why the fuck did he say that? 

After eating and Miguel having to pull you away from staring at your sink, he sits you down. His hand never leaves your arm as he sits next to you with his knees touching yours. "Hey, you okay?"

"Not really." 

"I shouldn't have told you any of that. I'm sorry I did. I-"

"No, it's okay. Just weird that the world revolves so much around Spider-Man and I've never even seen him once."

Miguel wants to laugh at that. He settles for trying to comfort you with arm rubs. 

"Why did you call me a background character?" 

Yeah, why did he do that? "I didn't mean that-" He sighs exasperated. "It's just that-"

"I'm not important to Spider-Man."

"No. Well, yes. I mean-"

You chuckle. "Is this your first time? It can't be yet you sound like it is."

Miguel's face flushes and he facepalms. You're right. Like always.

"I guess that means that this," You motion between yourself and him, "doesn't mean much."

"No!" He puts his hands up, desperate to explain but yet again you interrupt him.

"I guess that's okay. I only see you what? Four months out of a year? That's not sustainable anyway." 

"...What?" He moves closer to hold your arms. "What are you talking about? This is sustainable, we're friends, aren't we?"

"I don't know. Are we?"

"Yes!" He throws his hands up. "Yes, we are." Miguel takes one of your hands and squeezes it gently, hoping to coax you back to him. 

"But I'm not important." Your eyes now stare just past him. You feel empty.

"To Spider-Man, not to me," He tries to assure you as he leans in, your face and his now only a foot apart. He really is trying to get this point across. How could he approach this with logic? What explanation could make sense?

"Does my life mean anything? If I'm not apart of Spider-Man's life... Does anything matter? Do I mean anything to anyone? Do I mean anything to you?"

"You mean so much to me. We're friends! I like coming here. I like sharing your bed. I like eating heated-up meals in the night with you. I like that you patch me up even though you really don't have to. I like spending time with you. I don't care what you mean to Spider-Man. You mean something to me!" Logic wouldn't win this. He had to tell you how he felt.

You aren't expecting that. You finally meet his eye again. "What... Did you just have an emotion besides annoyance?" Now, you're smiling at him. 

Miguel groans. "I'm going to regret telling you that, aren't I?"

You nod, "Yes. Very much." You get out of your seat to sit next to Miguel. "I still wanna know," You're serious again but not void of everything, "if my life means something without Spider-Man and why he's so important." Your face is serious as you look at Miguel. A moment passes before you playfully hit his chest and tell him, "You're not getting out of this existential crisis so easily."

"I owe you that, don't I?"

You nod, "Yep." You hold onto his arm to hang on to. "So," You drag out the vowel, "we are friends."

Miguel looks at you and your cheesy smile and that smile is the only thing holding back the most annoyed groan in all of history. "We are friends."

[spookymonthcultau]

Deserted evening street. Outskirts. Only the faint sound of tires rubbing against the pavement is heard. Gradually dim lights come on. The trees around stood without a single leaf, from which they could only sway terribly in a gust of wind. It was already pretty cold around, from the fact that one of the policemen kept sneezing, from which a cigarette flew out of his mouth. The ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts, which were smeared with dirt left on the floor of the car from boots.

As John reached for another cigarette, sniffling. Suddenly, his partner's voice stopped him.

Jack was worried about his condition, and therefore did not want him to continue to adversely affect his health and his pocket, because with the frequency that the policeman sneezed, this smoking was equivalent to throwing a whole pack of "cancer sticks" into the trash.

John, how is your daughter? - the brunette began a dialogue on a completely side topic, which would surely have distracted the older comrade from his miserable attempts to enjoy tobacco.

This theme is the best catalyst. The hand that once reached for the cigarette changed course to the button to close the window, then to give its answer:

- Thank you for asking. My girl feels great, she recently discovered her passion for drawing.

- Wow! Is it true? Sounds great! Tell her she already has her first suitor! Jack jokes kindly.

John gave him the same grin.

- I'll be sure to tell her. How about your personal life?

- My psychologist told me not to rush into this, because I can unconsciously start copying my father's behavior, since it is still considered normal for me in all respects. However, I myself do not have a special craving for either women or men. I'm only 25, I still have time, right?

- And that's right, you're still young, it's true, you'll have more time.

- You speak as if you are already all 80. - the brunette smiles again.

- I could be your father! Albeit very young.

- It would be better if it was. - The grin of the policeman this time was completely without mischief, rather with a taste of bitter truth.

The truth is that Jack's father was indeed not the most pleasant man, if only because children do not run away from good parents.

An awkward silence hung, which this time, unpleasantly pressed from above with a heavy load. With a heavy sigh, John leaned back in his seat, watching the focused partner behind the wheel.

The tired gaze of the mustachioed man, gliding over the windshield, suddenly stopped at the mansion, which stood alone, but majestically, at the top of the hill.

Looking at the building, which slowly but surely eluded their gaze, the curly one asks:

- Jack, do you believe the cult is real?

- I believe. And not even because, according to my father, since there is a church, then there are those who are against it.

This answer was quite unexpected, so John clarified:

-Then why do you believe it's real?

Jack's hands clenched on the steering wheel and he visibly hesitated.

– Many suspicious factors led me to this conclusion, up to the discovery of cult symbols in buildings or in the home of innocent citizens. I swear to...ahem, by all I have, I saw a cult robe in the attic of the woman whose house we were trying to find Bob Welseb. You know, the cult is like Sauron watching you everywhere and everywhere.

Judging by his partner's mixed reaction, these minor details obviously weren't the only reason for his faith.

But John could not even open his mouth, when suddenly a man in a red hoodie appeared almost in front of the hood, from which the car rushed to turn with a painful creak, from which a sharp shift in weight led to the fact that the car turned over and slowly slid down the ravine, with the sound of broken glass braking against a tree.

The man that appeared in front of them seemed to be nothing more than a joint hallucination, for no help followed from him, but now it was absolutely unimportant.

Of the last forces, John managed to miraculously get out of the battered car, which was about to be ready to ignite, pulling Jack's body along with it, which did not seem to save and the airbag popping a little further, the curly one presses the wounded partner to himself, and despite the fact that it felt like the whole body was broken, he croaked:

- Jack, my boy, please hold on, I'll call for help now ...

All he got was a hard, bloody cough that left a stain on his shirt.

Jack barely finds the strength to lift his bruised head, which was bleeding profusely.

Judging by the unnatural dislocation of the arm and convulsions, the brunette was literally completely broken and he didn’t have much to live.

Incoherent, at first glance, speeches were barely audible from his mouth, mixed with blood.

- John... that woman... a cult... this will help... you... you can... thank you... you... my best friend...

The black, deep eyes that had always shone with a spark of happiness and enthusiasm faded forever, and the lips briefly curled into a death smile before the whole body went limp lifelessly on the cold grass.

The rush of adrenaline didn't seem to play a big role in driving John into a tantrum.

He see a picture of a burning house, the screeching of sirens, the crying of a child, the words that his wife could not be saved ... Again.

But to see how your dear partner dies in your arms is even more painful. And the heart will squeeze even more from the fact that you could not do anything to help.

Choking on tears and clutching the dead body to himself, he takes the phone out of his pocket and barely hitting the number of the pathologist who was on the speed dial, he gasps into the receiver:

- O-outskirts of g-g-city ... urgently ... ambulance ...

There was no answer to the worried exclamations of the woman from the tube. John lost consciousness.

Instrument chirp.

Preparations.

And recovery.

Pain of loss.

Farewell hour.

And then humility.

We will not return the departed,

We won't fix it.

It remains only to collect

Our boots are dust.

Although this verse is by no means eloquent or verbose, it perfectly describes the state of John after the car accident.

He did not remember well how the doctors stood over him, injecting medicines and putting droppers.

He had little memory of crying at Jack's funeral while squeezing Patty's hand.

But he probably remembered that the cigarettes in his teeth began to flicker even more often, in an attempt to drown out the pain, which, like that accident, broke him from the inside, not only literally.

The state of health deteriorated markedly. Everything around in an instant became gray, lifeless, empty.

It seemed that an integral part of his life had gone with Jack, that it would be restored very, very slowly, and in front of his beloved daughter it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to pretend that everything was fine.

Late evening. It's getting colder outside. Trees and grass are covered with frost. As if anticipating the arrival of something cold and lifeless. Previously, such associations with winter did not arise, but joy

Sniffing, the curly-haired cop takes another puff, frowning around, suddenly freezing.

It was at this house that she and Jack got their first lead on Bob's trail. Now even this makes the heart bleed with warm blood

Suddenly John flinches. The partner's words popped into his head, along with an image of who Jack had actually sacrificed himself for.

The spark of life flashed again in tired eyes. He always has a police ID, as well as a weapon, so you don't have to worry about being mistaken for a psycho. He didn't have a clear plan, but if the one who lives here is really connected to a cult...

Oh, she will pay for everything.

Three heavy knocks on the door. Then, a dull voice was heard:

- Officer John, Miss. Open the door, I need to talk to you...

[leolovesthings]

#2

[tundrainafrica]

I've been following your blog for a while now and I love your writing and your meta! I was wondering, do you consider Levi and Hanji's relationship to be romantic in canon? Do you consider it canon that Levi had romantic feelings for Erwin?

Thank you for the ask anon, also, thank you for ruffling my feathers a bit too :D. I’m glad you like my writings and meta and I hope that my works continue to bring you joy. 

The types of questions you asked up there could only lead to the types of answers that can spark ship wars. I mean the dialogue in 136 and the change in kanji for chapter 132 hinting their own ships canon were enough to have Eruri and Levihan shippers bashing each other on twitter tbh. 

Personally, I see the romantic potential for both Levihan and Eruri in the show. That’s why I found myself reading a good number of Levihan and Eruri fics. (But lots more Levihan if it isn’t obvious from AO3 bookmarks and my tumblr title). I mean lots more romantic potential than let’s say.... ereri

Do you consider it canon that Levi had romantic feelings for Erwin? 

I’ll answer this one first. No. I don’t think Levi had romantic feelings for Erwin anywhere on the show. Was there potential for something to bloom? Possibly, that’s why I still read eruri fanfiction. I like exploring the possibility if Erwin wasn’t a little too obsessed with his dream, maybe their relationship could have turned out differently.

In canon, by the time they introduced Erwin, Erwin had already forsaken all romance and I think whatever feelings Erwin had towards romance rubbed off on Levi and their relationship ended up being more professional than anything. Due to Erwin’s one track mind and the position he had taken upon himself. any romantic possibilities between them in canon was just harder to make happen. 

Levi though still had strong feelings towards Erwin. It’s undeniable. Erwin had given Levi purpose to live and direction on where to go next, what to do next so that’s why regardless of whether canon had made it possible or not, this relationship is still very interesting to explore. 

Erwin was more professional and cold than Levi imo and honestly, despite the cold demeanor of his best friend Erwin, Levi was an incredible softie at heart and we’ve seen that side of him multiple times, when he gave Petra’s badge to that one soldier, when he stared at that one mother and child when they were on the wall ready to leave to retake Shiganshina.

We all know Levi begrudgingly wanted that soft side of him indulged and between Erwin and Hange the one more likely to indulge that softie side of Levi was Hange. 

Which brings me to the next question.

Do you consider Levi and Hanji's relationship to be romantic in canon? 

I wouldn’t be obsessively writing Levihan fics if I didn’t see it as romantic in canon. But at the same time, I don’t believe Hange and Levi have been in a relationship since Season 1. My headcanon here is Hange and Levi built that relationship over time and this relationship just rapidly progressed after season 3

It’s incredibly subtle which is one of the reasons people like to pretend it doesn’t exist. Probably because they’re trying to promote another ship or they don’t wanna see romance in AOT

But I don’t think a relationship developing subtly is at all a sign that it can be more platonic than anything else. 

In fact, most healthy relationships and most relationships from a bystanders point of view, develop subtly. Like we were the bystanders in many other developing relationships in real life, I think we, the audience of AOT, were also bystanders watching the subtle development of Hange and Levi’s relationship. 

Let’s think about how we’ve watched relationships develop in real life.  

If we’re not invested, they happen incredibly subtly. These people are just constantly together, then eventually we realize we can’t invite the other without the other, then we realize we can barely get them alone, then we realize the person changed and eventually they drop this bomb saying “by the way, I’m dating this person now.”

This pattern happens way too many damn times among my friends though and people I just randomly watch everyday that it just became so expected for it to develop into romance so eventually, when I’ve seen the formula play through, I tend to lean on the side of ‘yeah, they’re probably togteher or getting there.’

Yeah, I get it, there’s a danger in assuming that people are together. I’ve seen enough romantic relationships develop though to realize that leaning on the side of ‘romantic’ given specific signs is usually the correct assumption. In fact, I have earned a good amount of money irl winning bets with my friends that two people are actually together but are hiding a relationship (or possibly are in denial).

What are some of these signs? 

The way they treat this one person is so glaringly different from how they treat other people 

Through the years, I have lost a lot of my best friends to their boyfriends/girlfriends and as the youngest child, I have watched all seven of my siblings get into a relationship and believe me, a lot of them have a certain line they would draw on what they are willing to do for their close friend or sibling and what they are willing to do for a lover. 

I have seen people in love so willingly have their hand crushed while the person they love has their fingers set back. “Hold my hand as hard as you need to.” I’ve seen my friends take a detour 1 hour away from the destination just to pick up the person they love. And here’s the thing, they wouldn’t have done it for anyone else usually, they would have only done that thing for that one person. 

Yes, okay doormats exist. But even people with doormat syndrome, the threshold of what someone is willing to do for a close friend and for a person they love still differ regardless. In a life or death situation, I think both Levi and Hange would have fought to conserve lives but if we consider small things, like routines, groceries, small favors, I feel like Levi has an incredibly low threshold of what he’d be willing to do for a random person. But Levi still carried her groceries for her so he could meet her with Moblit in the smartpass. Levi still picked her up and waited for her in Season 2 when she was researching the rock. And for Hange, chapter 115 is all the hint you need. I honestly don’t know if Hange would have gone through those lengths for anyone else but selfishly abandoning commander duties for one guy? She practically said screw you to everyone else. 

The way they talk to each other is different.

This is something I notice in real life too. Most people won’t notice when they themselves do it but it’s incredibly obvious for listeners if the listeners look out for it. The tones of people’s voices change when they’re talking to someone they love. For a lot of people, sometimes their voices get a little high pitched. For others, sometimes their voices get a little softer. Just watch when you’re talking to a friend and suddenly their SO calls. (It might not apply to everyone but I find this incredibly common.) Not just tones, speech patterns change or tendencies too. In front of that one person, sometimes people are a little more selfish. Like maybe, they don’t usually say what they want to eat but when the one person asks, they would answer because suddenly they know what they want. 

With Hange and Levi we have the ‘let’s live together’ and the ‘dedicate your heart’ respectively. 

These are two expressions/phrases they would have not used with anyone else. There was probably more in canon, but these are just the most glaringly obvious ones with two pivotal scenes that blatantly show that Hange and Levi do have signs of the above.  

Hange and Levi who are generally very selfless all business people, are suddenly only selfish with the person they love. Hange with “let’s live together?” An injured Levi deciding to rest and sleep despite the fact that they were in a war because Hange was nearby to take care of him?

Those two were suddenly selfish when they were alone with one another?

They are constantly together.

Okay, irl, you can see this when you have all your friends ride in a car together and somehow, it’s always them taking those two seats next to each other. They leave the classroom together. They leave every single dam room together. And it could be subtle or not but they always wait for one another. Yet if one person is not there, they’re the type to just go ahead and leave without giving the room behind them a second look. When someone wants to buy something, the other always has an excuse to come. And oh my god, when you call your friend in the middle of the night to hang, that person is always in their dam house or in their dam room, no breaks. 

And Hange and Levi have their equivalent of this. 

Levi literally picked Hange from her lab in Season 2 while she was injured and he had no need to. 

I think I have made a post where Levi and Hange are shown constantly together but lemme make some points. Even early in canon, why were Hange and Levi introduced riding next to each other, they’re not even in the same squad. Why were they riding out the gate together? Shouldn’t Levi have been with his squad and shouldn’t Hange have been with her squad? 

Yeah sure, maybe they just decided to ride together. But why were they next to each other in the Ilse’s notebook too when they went out the gate? And even when they were going to take back Wall Maria, Levi and Hange were next to each other in the lift, they were back to back on Wall Maria. 

Like the only expedition where they weren’t riding together was when Levi had to protect Eren yo.

“They’re both leaders of course they were together” Mind you, Levi’s position in the military is a special one. He’s the captain of a special operations squad and not at all a squad leader so he shouldn’t be riding next to Hange if it were by “leaders” and in the retake Wall Maria, if they were divided by “leaders” why didn’t Hange take the lift with the other squad leaders? Why wasn’t she back to back with the other squad leaders on top of Wall Maria? 

Why did she pick to hang out with Special Ops squad Captain Levi of all people, in every. Single. Damn. expedition. Scene. 

And don’t even get me started on post Season 3 man. They’ve been inseparable since Erwin died.  

They literally come in a set. 

And you kinda realized your friends are in love when you wanna invite one of them out and you realized you kinda have to invite their special little friend by default. 

And Hange and Levi are just like that too, 

Hange and Levi have always come in a set. In fan art, in those advertisements, Hange and Levi are always next to each other. In those fan audiobooks, smart passes, there are always Levihan crumbs. Attack on Titan Chuugakkou was literally a testament to the canonicity of Levihan since in that show, they didn’t even hide anything, Levi and Hange were always next to each other. (I think Hange actually ended up living with him towards the end?) Post Season 3, I don’t even think there were many seasons where Levi and Hange were apart and when they were apart it was more of for duty than anything else. 

Hange was always with him when she could, despite her duty as commander. Given their circumstances, they wouldn’t even be together a lot if they didn’t make the effort too. 

Especially towards the end, 126 - 132, the few times Hange did leave Levi behind were for commander duties but Hange never left Levi for the lulz. And also, in 132, Levi was magically able to walk when Hange finally left him behind, and Levi could barely walk in 132, yet he still pushed himself to stand up, walk toward her and attempt to stop her. 

In fact, Hange’s first scenes were next to Levi and Hange’s last scenes were also next to Levi “See you later Hange.”

And I think the huge efforts they put to being together despite their circumstances says a lot already. Hange and Levi’s treatment of each other and their being together constantly in general is a huge testament to the canonicity of their romance. 

Sure, there were no ‘I love yous’. But really, before our irl friends who were in love actually came out to us, maybe months or even years after we’ve watched them be joined at the hip, were there really ‘I love you’s  between them or did we all just place bets on it because they were just being too glaringly obvious about it in how they treated each other? 

[ritsushinbro]

My thoughts on Mari in the Rebuilds (spoilers)

I'm dropping my thoughts on Mari. To be honest, everytime I sat down to write about her, my mind just went blank and I actually had what I believe is called "writer's block". It's just that she is such a blank and confusing character that it is extremely hard to talk about her. The fact that she doesn't have an NGE counterpart to compare and contrast with also makes it difficult. As a result, this one is going to be a lot less comprehensive than the ones I did for Asuka and Rei. I'm not gonna talk about her agenda or who she works for because that to me is too complex.

We first see Mari in 1.0's preview with her staring at the sky. She has a concerned and solemn look on her face which suggests she may be an intriguing and empathetic character. However when she is reintroduced as the pilot of Unit 05, we learn she is a bombastic and hyperactive girl that talks a lot (even to Zeruel) and has no qualms with being reckless with her Eva. A pretty stark contrast from the first visual impression from the preview but I imagine at that point they didn't know what sort of character they wanted her to be. Her next scene is when she parachutes from the sky and lands on top of Shinji...where she smothers his face with her breasts and also waves her butt in front of him….After "finding her glasses" she then proceeds to CRAWL towards Shinji and then SMELL him to say how good he smells. Take into account that this boy just met her and she's just rubbed her boobs in his face and basically gave him an upskirt view, it seems a little on the nose. Now that we know she's far older than she looks and actually knew Shinji as a toddler, her "interest" in Shinji is highly inappropriate; I wouldn't go as far as "creepy" because she does display *some* detachment from Shinji (I'll talk about the AA rounds soon) but just inconsiderate of other people's personal space and comfort, but then again this is an anime so funny tropes like this do exist. 

I know Kaji invades Shinji's space too but he at least says that he is kidding afterwards, Mari does not. We also see her use the term "puppy" to describe Shinji. We learn in Shin that she only calls him this because Shinji has refused to "grow up and take responsibility" but that doesn't make sense because Shinji at this point of the story has not displayed any "immaturity". The Bardiel thing hasn't happened yet and Shinji is actually making friends and doing things. He even promised Kaji to look after Misato. Mind we don't see him saying this, but let's just take writer liberties and assume he agreed, after all why would Kaji even ask him if he didn't think he was mature enough to handle it. At this point Shinji is arguably the most mature and confident (even with piloting) he's ever been so to say that Mari calls him "puppy" because he acts like a little boy is just ridiculous (if we are to take it seriously). After we see her job to Zeruel, we see her give a "pep-talk" to Shinji (not really, she actually tells Shinji to run away and escape) but she does show Zeruel consuming Unit 00 which is the thing that spurs Shinji on to pilot again. What's interesting though is how bland her dialogue is. From reading the script again, she actually says to Shinji not for him to be hard on himself as it would stop having fun from piloting. This dialogue shows that Mari really does not understand Shinji, she does not understand the reasons for his hesitation and she simply insists that he "has fun". I don't want to make a false equivalence but a similar analogy would be saying to a depressed person to simply be happy. This is funny because this attitude to what other people are going through is pervasive in Japanese culture. I watched a video of Chris from the Abroad in Japan channel and he actually talked about that exact scenario in which a doctor told a depressed foreigner (not ethnic Japanese) to simply "just be happy". 

It's quite unusual. Another thing that this shows about Mari's character is that she is just shallow. That's the only word I can describe her as: Shallow. "Just have fun" she exclaims. In the world of Eva, this is not so easy, but Mari is supposed to be the hyperactive genki girl right? Just forget about trauma and hurt and just lose yourself to enjoyment and fun-seeking. This message is a stark difference from NGE's message that introspection will lead to self-love. Her next scene is where she is commenting on Shinji saving Rei. She says that Shinji just managed to save everyone and she also commented on his smell again. It's strange how even though NTI was occuring, Mari acknowledged that Shinji just saved everyone's ass from Zeruel (which Misato belatedly does in Shin). So why the hostility from WILLE in 3.0? It's theorised that Mari knew Kaji so why couldn't she use that connection to explain or at least talk some sense into Misato to acknowledge that he saved them instead of being callous. Misato is less likely to brush aside the colleague or friend of her dead lover as she may do someone else. Which brings me to 3.0. Mari is obviously still the genki girl we see in 2.0 (she teases Asuka about Shinji), but she seems so trigger-happy, it's very jarring. I can understand her not holding back against Rei Q but she has no hesitation shooting Shinji either. Remember this is the son of someone she knew and was fond of, someone she knew as a baby. And yet, when Asuka gives the authorisation to employ the potentially lethal AA rounds, Mari celebrates that she finally gets a chance to use them and just straight up shoots at Shinj and Kaworui. Absolutely no hesitation whatsoever. And I have talked about this with Asuka, but Mari doesn't attempt to first talk Shinji down either. She goes full attack mode from the start just like Asuka did but what's Mari's excuse? 

She doesn't have the chip on her shoulder that Asuka does so why did Mari not attempt to talk Shinji down instead when Mark 09 went into hiding? She didn't, she just went "shoot first, talk later" like a good little soldier. My first thought when watching this the first time was "lapdog". That's the only way I can describe Mari working for WILLE. "Lapdog". We are led to believe that Mari cares for Shinji, she knew him as a baby and she also wore her school uniform in the supplementary manga because she wanted Shinji to recognise her and yet she doesn't care at all about potentially killing him because WILLE told her to. My previous point still stands, Mari is shallow but she is also WILLE's lapdog. Not once do we see her attempting to talk to WILLE or Misato to at least let her talk to Shinji or to show leniency so she could talk him down. If they at least showed a 10 second interaction of Mari begging Misato/Asuka to let her try and get through to Shinji then that would have at least justified the ending a little bit. But no. She was such a non-character all she did was blindly follow WILLE's orders. The fact that she was made to "destroy Eva" and yet still listened to WILLE, makes her character even more incoherent. I have seen people try and argue that Mari "saved" Shinji by ejecting him from Unit 13 and this was proof she cared for him. The truth is Mari knew that Shinji was "SEELE's backup" and she needed to eject Shinji to stop the 4th impact. There was no "care" involved. Mari also takes this time to give Shinji another "pep-talk" in which she tells Shinji to "stop being a baby", "save the princess [Asuka]", "you're a man" and "get to know the world". Here's why Mari's comments are nonsensical. Shinji has just found out he "destroyed" the world (still up for debate though, don't let anyone say he DEFINITELY did cause Third Impact because we still don't know how Shinji caused it, if he did at all). 

He also found out the girl he tried to save, not only "died" but was a clone of his dead mother. Oh and let's not forget he just saw the only person who was ever kind to him get his head blown clean off by the bomb collar Shinji's so-called mother-figure placed on HIM to "punish" him over something she would later go on to admit was the right thing to do. Shinji isn't being a "baby". He is understandably traumatised. Mari knew Kaworu had died because the DSS Choker was showing blue-blood and she also knew Shinji was still alive. So Mari must have known Shinji just saw Kaworu die and yet still had the nerve to say that. Secondly, Shinji could not "save the princess" because Shinji had lost control of Unit 13, he could do nothing, but to Mari's defense we don't know if she knew this. Thirdly, Shinji is not "a man". He is a 14 year old boy who's voice hasn't even broke yet. Lastly, what does Mari mean by "learn about the world". All Shinji knows at that point is that he destroyed the world and everyone hates him and even the people who should care about him the most are willing to threaten and try to kill him with a bomb collar. What is there for Shinji to "learn"? In fact, what *does* Shinji "learn" in Shin that gets him back on his feet? Well, apparently it's Rei Q telling him that the people in the village actually like him (I'm paraphrasing). Wait….Are you saying that all Shinji needed was kindness and support? That was all that was needed to make him a helpful human being instead of someone to be afraid of? Well colour me shocked. If only WILLE did that from the start, then maybe he would not have run off with Rei and then go on to cause N4I. As usual Mari is talking rubbish and her comments just make her and WILLE look dumb. 

Mari's first scene in Shin is her fighting in Paris. She's still the same: hyperactive, chatty, out of control almost. However she makes a strange vow to find Shinji wherever she is whilst also still referring to him as "puppy". What? Since when did she care about Shinji? She tried to kill him a short while ago. If anything she should be more concerned about her co-pilot of 14 years. There is a sudden shift in Mari's tone towards Shinji in shin. She's portrayed as someone who's always watched out or cared for Shinji like some guardian angel. But we as the viewer know this is just plain wrong considering how trigger-happy she was in the previous film. The only way one could reconcile her change in attitude towards Shinji with her also trying to harm him, is by subscribing to the belief that Shinji was just being "immature" and needed to be stopped for his own good. I have already explained why that is not the case, but that will not stop people from saying this because not doing so will force them to confront just how unfair the writing and the plot has been to Shinji. Her second scene with Shinji involves her properly introducing herself to him. Oh she also covered his eyes, rubbed her boobs on him and also talked about her large breasts. Keep in mind, this girl is the same generation as his mother and has known him since he was a baby. She also tried to hurt/kill him in Lilith's chamber. This scene was just fan-service. If there was a time for Mari to "drop the genki act" and show her more tender side or even give Shinji some advice or just to tell him to keep his chin up, this was it. But Khara obviously wanted their girl to be a completely 1-dimensional character right to last minute so what can I say. 

Next we have Mari, making another vow to find Shinji (rather that he should wait for her because she will come for him). I can only reiterate what I said about the Paris fight. Why does she suddenly show so much devotion to Shinji now? People say she only showed interest in him after he showed signs of "maturation" but what were these signs? Shinji allowing himself to be imprisoned by WILLE again? He came back to fight his father, but WILLE (Sakura/Midori/Tama) were willing to kill him to stop him piloting so that doesn't make sense. Or maybe it was Shinji allowing himself to be tazed by Asuka? Or maybe it was Shinji "admitting" that he didn't do enough to save Asuka from Bardiel. It's been discussed ad nauseum, but there was really nothing Shinji could do. Asuka was already infected by the time Shinji was sortied and he couldn't kill her because the dummy plug already tried. So what did Shinji admit to? A plot-hole? Is this what Mari is looking for in a partner? Is this what the film is trying to say being a "man" is about? Letting people punish you and lock you up? Letting people try and shoot you and blow your head off with a bomb collar even though you are their last hope? Admitting you were in the wrong when technically you weren't? Shinji's "growth" is contrived and Mari apparently respecting Shinji more because of his "maturation" is hypocritical. 

Don't stand up for yourself. Don't hold people accountable. Just lie down and take everyone's hostility and you will get a gorgeous, large-breasted GF who also happens to be old enough to be your mother. That's what Mari's change in attitude towards Shinji shows. Her saying Shinji "smells like an adult" only reinforces this. I don't care about "Buddha Shinji'' or that he "Just live and let live" like some anons have said. Shinji's treatment and eventual capitulation is a terrible message and it's gaslighting the audience into thinking all of Shinji's problems were caused by him and his “immaturity”. Mari is one of the major characters that partakes in this gaslighting. I'm not gonna talk about her defeating the Mark 09 evas and basically becoming God. The Mari Sue angle has been discussed to death so there's no point in me doing it. This by no means comprehensively discusses the problems I have with Mari as it has been a while since I last watched the films but to summarise, Mari is a shallow, empty character existing purely for fan service and merchandise.

[recurring-polynya]

9, 13, 19, 23 for RenRuki OTP meme!

9. Have they made each other cry?

Neither Rukia nor Renji are criers by nature, but absolutely yes.

I looked it up, and weirdly enough, Rukia does *not* cry in the manga version, but she does cry in the anime when Renji tells her to go to the Kuchiki. Regardless, I think they both had some wet face syndrome in the days following that.

Rukia was having a pretty tough time in the Academy, and Renji was in a constant state of unconsciously rubbing it in. I bet he made her cry at least once, although she is way too stubborn to actually do it in front of him, I think she did it in private, later.

I’m not sure crying over someone is the same as them making you cry, but I believe with 100% of my being that the “fear she was trying to avoid” in the As Nodt fight was Renji-related, and even though she held it together pretty well at the time, I hope homegirl went home and had a good cathartic sob after the fact.

In the same vein, it’s very believable that Renji had at least one tearful breakdown at some point in the Soul Society Arc. I imagine he came home and puked his guts out after he had to arrest her and throw her in a holding cell and there could have been some tears that went along with that, and possibly also after he found out that Byakuya had no intention of lifting a finger to stay her execution. (I just realized this is not the first time I have headcanoned Renji puking out of grief and it’s true, I think he does, it’s great, I love my brain, thanks)

I would bet money that Renji (possibly both of them) teared up a little when Ichika was born, and/or when they found out about the pregnancy.

Also, not to ruin the vibe, but it seems highly likely that at some point in their acquaintance, probably in their Inuzuri days, Rukia kicked Renji in the nards hard enough to make tears come out of his face.

13. Name something they would never do for the other person.

Like the dealbreaker question, this one is really hard because they are both really intense people who are absolutely ride-or-die for each other (as well as everyone else they know). I am still sticking to my guns that Rukia became a shinigami in the first place for Renji’s sake, and Renji’s entire first character arc involved him binning 40 years of hard work and career ladder climbing to be with her.

That being said, though, they do maintain a fair amount of personal autonomy that I think they would stick to. Renji would never get his brow tatts removed, for example, no matter how much Rukia hates them (or conversely, I think he didn’t tell her before he got them because he knew she’d tell him not to, and he was determined to get them and wouldn’t have listened to her anyway). Likewise, if she asks, he will refrain from wearing a particular pair of extra-terrible sunglasses to a Kuchiki family picnic, but he’s not going to get rid of the sunglasses collection for her. I honestly can’t imagine her seriously asking him to do either of these things-- she’d rather just drag him for them.

I think the part in WDKALY where Rukia decides to keep “Kuchiki” as her professional name was written in a kinda stilted and dumb way, but I do not disagree with it. I am reasonably sure that this was decided at an editorial level, because if they have a Bleach continuation, they would want the character to keep her more familiar name, but then they added the fact that she took his name more generally because people are weird about women who don’t take their husbands name (and then people argue that her keeping her name is “evidence” that she doesn’t love him... so, honestly, there’s no winning either way). Personally, I didn’t like that they waited until they were actually in line at the Soul Society DMV to have this discussion (with Byakuya standing around, no less), but but otherwise, I think it’s a nice compromise, and that Rukia would want to use the names of both the men she considers her family. Renji seemed vaguely disappointed that she wasn’t taking his name entirely, and I can see that, but also, it’s her choice and he doesn’t make a stink about it, which rings true to me.

In all of these examples, the principle is that, all else being equal, each of them will take input from the other, but they would stick to their guns when it comes to decisions about themselves. That doesn’t mean they are going to die on these hills out of sheer stubbornness. I wrote a fanfic once where Byakuya died and Renji married Rukia in order to help her consolidate power in the family, and he took her name and very vehemently made everyone call him by it. 

Also, I am sure there are some household chores that Renji would like done to some particular specifications, and Rukia just will not. Like, she refuses to rinse the dishes before she puts them in the dishwasher and she won’t squeegee the glass after she showers, or whatever the Soul Society equivalents of these things are.

19. If they could each write a single line in their marriage vows, what would they be?

I cannot emphasize enough that Byakuya paid for their entire fancy Kuchiki-ass wedding and even though they are constantly on their best behavior around him, he knows how they are and he would never, ever let them write their own vows.

So, here is a dispatch from some secondary drunken, backyard wedding that they had for close-friends only (Byakuya was also there, but Isshin slipped him a pot brownie and he was feeling very at one with the universe at the time)

Who the heck writes a single line of their wedding vows?? I gave them each a paragraph.

Rukia:

People have been joking a lot, every since we started dating, how lucky you are, but the fact is, I am the lucky one. I’ve been so fortunate, in my life, to have such good friends and family, but I feel luckiest of all to have you-- you’ve always been there to cheer me on, to pick me up, to make me pickles. You’re brave and you’re handsome and you have really, really great hair, and I feel like the luckiest person in Soul Society that I get to marry you. I love you so, so much, you big dummy.

Renji:

I used to think that I would be content if I could just love you from afar. That just being able to see you and hear your voice and know that you were happy was enough for me. But I was wrong, as it turns out, because being able to touch you and kiss you and tell you I love you a hundred times a day has made me happier than I ever thought I could be. I expect that being married to you is going to make me more powerful and obnoxious than anyone here could possibly imagine and I am absolutely not sorry. I love you so, so much, you little dummy.

See, Byakuya, that wasn’t so bad! (maybe it was)

Bonus! In the dead Byakuya fanfic I mentioned above, I had them get married under Gotei authority and I wrote some (partial) shinigami wedding vows that are basically perfect for them and also I was really proud of them:

How will you meet your enemies? As one, we shall meet them, as one, we shall fight.

And how do you swear this? We swear on sword and soul.

Let it be so. With this, you are forged together, a single blade. May your battle be long, and when you fall, may you fall together.

23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language.

Wow. Dang. This felt like a personal attack. Anyway, it was really hard, and I did it, but I didn’t like it.

Here’s the scene right where Renji hauls Ichigo off to go fight Ywhach, because I am always thinking about this scene and willing it to make sense (Rukia should have gone with Ichigo, I will die on this hill!!!!), and I think it only works if there’s a bunch of unsaid subtext. It’s depressing, but it’s only 511 words, which is very much like 300 words, almost exactly the same, honestly.

~

The others don’t see it, because they are busy watching Orihime restore Ichigo’s sword, his swords, for maybe the last time, but Rukia does, because she needs an explanation.

Renji’s shoulders slump, his chin tips down, his hands are open at his sides.

He is sorry.

He better be sorry! Rukia clenches her jaw, her eyes burn at him. She is the one who should have yanked Ichigo to his feet, she is the one who should go with him to his death.

Renji’s eyes slide upward and meet hers. His jaw is set.

He is right, and she knows it.

Orihime is hurt. Her lungs are making ominous bubbling noises as Zangetsu pieces itself back together under her care. Rukia is exhausted, but she can manage the kaidou that will save her friend’s life. Renji cannot.

It is more than that, though. Rukia’s bankai is perilous. Ichibei warned her that she should use it sparingly-- that it will take many hours of practice before her body can handle the wrenching temperature shocks. She has used it too many times already in the last 48 hours. She still can’t feel all her fingers and toes since she came back from killing As Nodt. Another go at it so soon may kill her before she even has a chance to be useful. It could kill her and everyone in her blast radius, which might be helpful, but probably...not. Her hand rubs nervously at the hilt of her sword. She tries to flex the dead pinkies, but they deny her.

Renji sees the motion, and he grips Zabimaru confidently. His bankai is new to him, too, but Hihiou Zabimaru was like a weighted practice blade-- So-oh Zabimaru is familiar enough and easy in comparison. Sode no Shirayuki and Zabimaru are both temperamental blades, but Zabimaru has always been at their most dependable when the odds are stacked against them.  

Rukia reaches out and gives Orihime’s hair a gentle pat. She will stay, but she will not like it. 

The side of Renji’s mouth ticks up in a rueful half-smile, and his eyes glitter with the last bit of humor he can muster. She can beat him up all she likes when he gets back.

Rukia flings an arm around Orihime, and stuffs her face into her friend’s shoulder. None of this is fair. 

Renji’s eyes soften briefly, and his eyes are filled with so much love for her. He knows he has the easy job. There aren’t any words to thank her enough for letting him go on a suicide mission with Ichigo while she stays back to give them something worth fighting for.

Then he stiffens, and squares his shoulders once again. He jabs Ichigo impatiently with one foot and screws up his face into the same scowl he always uses to armor his heart. 

It won’t work, Rukia thinks, as Orihime finishes her task and slumps backward. She will keep Renji’s heart here with her, and Orihime will keep Ichigo’s, and no matter what, none of them will die alone.

[chetarisin]

my precious partner

i posted this on AO3 and am posting it here 

You know, I love video games. Any kind, really. I would get the classics and the new. Hell, I even have some old game consoles in storage just waiting for me to get them out. I had a Pokemon super mystery dungeon that I played from front to back several times. But I lost it on the move to my new apartment. You know when your things like to disappear then reappear when you're not looking for it? Yeah. I've had that happen. So I assumed that it was playing hide and seek. A few weeks into living in my new apartment, I found a game cartridge for the Super mystery dungeon game in the apartment. I would have had a 'gotcha' moment, if it had not been for the fact that the game was found in the guest bedroom, under an old dresser that the previous owner had left behind. I took out my 3ds and put the game in, half wondering if it was my game. But sadly that's not how it goes. When I got to the game file, I saw a save file for “Chetari”. The Pokemon for the file was a Cyndaquil. By the looks of the file, the person who left the game behind was still in the third chapter. I loaded up the file and everything seemed normal. The game had booted up to Drilbur coal Mine. Right before the fight with the Gabite. I had smirked and decided ‘Okay, I’ll bite’, and I began to play. I had noticed the partner pokemon chosen was a Totodile named Draco and also, a Chikorita named TigerLily, which I found odd. There was no option for a second partner in any copies of the game. So I figured it was a hack. I took a few breaks throughout the day, though noticing differences in the game slightly. Having played the game multiple times, I had a lot memorized. The partner pokemon, Draco, seemed….much more clingy than the partner was supposed to. When in a dungeon, Draco would stick by the player pokemon. I had to test it out. So while in a dungeon, I was on a straight path. A Bidoof behind me. I had gotten her after I helped the Bidoof connected to Wigglytuff’s Guild. Or at least, the Cameo. In the Original game, you could recruit that particular Bidoof. But not a sibling. Which made me think this was again, a hack. So I had Bidoof behind me, right, so I had gotten into a battle with a zubat in the dungeon and somehow Draco ended up behind Chetari, much to my confusion. I tried it out several times but ended up with the same results. Further along in the game, I had gained on my team, not including the partner pokemon, a Gabite, Gengar, Bidoof, Absol, and a Galarian Ponyta. A pokemon that you cannot get within the game. I had to throw up my hands in confusion. Whoever created this hacked game, did a wonderful job. Nonetheless, the clinginess of the partner seemed to grow. It was 2 in the morning when I got to the end. In the original end, you have to meet with your partner pokemon to say goodbye on top of the hill. I moved Chetari to the hill to start the end scene. I sat back and began to read the dialogue, expecting the same crap as always. But the dialogue was completely different. I sat up straight and had my attention completely on the 3DS. I had also expected the Chikorita, TigerLily, to be included in the cut scene as well. But she wasn’t there. “Some adventure we had huh Chetari?” Draco’s head looked to the Cyndaquil next to him. Chetari nodded her head with a smile. “Yes, it was a very...interesting one. We helped Pokemon in need, met them in their secret bases, sometimes having to fight them because those secret bases were really just a trap, we met Entei, Suicune and Raikou and Jirachi's friend Celebi. We did a lot for a couple of children if you ask me.” Draco’s sprite smiles. "Ha, yeah, it was pretty crazy. All of them were. But I guess it wasn't so bad, we made a lot of friends. Sorry about Nuzleaf though.” Chetari’s head looked down at the ground with a frown on her face. There was no dialogue for at least a minute or two before Chetari’s dialogue popped up on screen. "I miss him. I know he did some bad things, but I still miss him. He felt like a dad to me, I didn't even get a chance to call him dad." her sprite had teary eyes, making me feel bad. The Totodile waddled over to the Cyndaquil and gave her a hug. It was pretty wholesome. I paused as I could hear a small, almost inaudible sigh from the speakers. At first I didn't think it was from the handheld device and looked around the room, but couldn’t find anything. I turned my attention back to the screen as Draco’s dialogue box popped up. "Chetari, I'm going to be honest with you. There's something you need to know." the Cyndaquil’s head gives a nod to let him continue. "I have to go. Part of the darkness is in Mew, who is me partly. Now that the darkness is gone, I have to go..." Even without the small picture box that shows when the dialogue box pops up, you could see the heartbreak on her face. The Totodile hugged her tight. "Don't go Draco. You're my best friend." the box that showed the character sprite had tears streaming down her face. The sprite of Draco’s moved. His arm moved up and down to rub Chetari’s back. "Just promise not to forget me." The head of the Cyndaquil nodded up and down, "I won't forget you Draco. I promise." The amount of wholesome I had witnessed was the equivalent of pure cane sugar. I most definitely did not have any tears in my eyes. But I was thrown for a loop when Draco’s text dialogue pops up. But the text was in parenthesis. It had read ("Lies, lies, lies. That's what they said. That's what they ALL said. What did they go and do? They FORGOT me. We all said we would be best friends forever. They LIED to me. You're not going to forget me Chetari, I'll make sure you won't forget me either. You CAN'T forget me. You WON'T forget me. I won't LET you forget me. You're my partner, my precious partner.") I knew the kid had issues within the game. But this had been weird as hell. A bad feeling had begun to creep into my stomach as I watched what unfolded. "Chetari, you'll miss me. Right my wonderful partner?" The Cyndaquil took a step away from Draco and gave a nod. "Can you do me just one favor? A small one before we go?” The Sprite nodded to what would be akin to an ‘anything’. "Can we hug again? Just one last time?" The Cyndaquil’s sprite lit up and waddled over to the Totodile. Something caught me off guard. The face of Draco. He had a sweet look on his face. But the smile was more of a smirk and not easily noticeable unless you looked for it. Everything happened fast. And the next action left me silent. Draco stabbed his whole hand right in the middle of Chetari's chest. The camera had turned to give me a clear view of her back. It was clear that Draco was starting to fade. The sprite box for Chetari popped up with the dialogue box, Blood shown on her chin. "D-D-Draco..... Wh-Wh-Why.....?" The sprite box for Draco looked particularly Cheerful, self-satisfied. "Why? So you wouldn't forget me. Others have forgotten me. But not you, you can't forget me. You won't forget me. And you won't replace me. This is the only way for it to work. You'll always remember me. You'll keep me in your mind as you take your last dying breath. You always will be, my precious partner" I was not able to see what Draco did before he faded. But when he did, the overworld sprite of Chetari tumbled down the hill. Pokemon from the nearby area gathered around the child pokemon… A dialogue box popped up that simply said “Draco”... That’s when the screen turned to black. I sat back in stunned silence. I ran my fingers through my hair. Whoever made this was a sadist. Putting the game down, I went to the kitchen for a drink. When i came back, a new dialogue box had appeared and it read “you won’t forget about me, will you?”

[somerpmemes]

Wizards of Waverly Place S2 Starters

Change as needed

“Watch it, I own sarcasm and don’t give you permission to use it.”

“Knowing stuff is so cool.”

“Panic and run, it’s never not worked.”

“There are no losers, just winners and the people who aren’t them.”

“When in doubt, dance out.”

“I’m not sure what I saw, but I saw that!”

“We should really shut this when we’re talking about people and they’re sitting right there.”

“Not seeing things coming is the rollercoaster of love, and I’m strapped in, ready to ride!”

“Just admit it, you don’t know anything about her!”

“No, you’re good, just don’t chase cars.”

“His loss is your gain, right?”

“The faster we go, the safer I feel.”

“There has got to be a way to put something on fire in my mouth without it hurting.”

“If someone in your family hates someone, then you’re supposed to hate that person too!”

“For an enemy, you are a lifesaver.”

“Oh, it’s really clever if you knew.”

“If I jack it up, just pull the fire alarm.”

“It took you hours to make that stupid thing?”

“I love food that’s bigger than it should be.”

“You know, you’re not as weird as everyone says.”

“Would you just let me be mad!?”

“You’re kinda just saying everything you’re seeing. Is everything okay?”

“I also wanna play that claw machine where you win stuffed animals.”

“You haven’t creeped me out for weeks!”

“Hey, look it’s a bird house. Or a mailbox. ...which one is it?”

“You look like somebody who’s always looking for an excuse to get out of work.”

“I don’t know much about relationships but I don’t think dating another guy is the way to celebrate.”

“I think I’m finally getting what she’s trying to say so I’m trying to say something I think she might get.”

“I didn’t hear that, I can’t be associated with this!”

“You get that I don’t rest well, right?”

“You have no idea what’s possible here.”

“That is a great evil plan, I am proud of you.”

“I love tetherball. It’s the only ball you can never lose.”

“That was a lot of stairs!”

“Evil is one thing, but mean is a hurt that never goes away.”

“___, even I know that’s a bad idea!”

“Would you go if I told you it was my birthday?”

“Oh, what does that big one do?”

“Friendships are all about surprising each other.”

“Okay, so it’s a problem.”

“Some people don’t want exciting, they want smart, reliable, and CPR certified.”

“Nice outfit, does your mom dress you?”

“___, I know you hate it when I get an idea, but I’ve got an idea!”

“If you want it to hurt, you gotta be accurate.”

“Go ahead, ask for help.”

“Stand next to it, maybe it’ll blend in!”

“I’m the dream you’ll never wake up from.”

“Missing something is part of what makes it a great memory.”

“Cool sword, let me try!”

“Aww, hey, look, it’s bendy! ….no it’s not.”

“You said we. You’re officially in, awesome!”

“Babies love burgers.”

“I’m the one who makes the scrapbooks in this relationship!”

“You have the most beautiful eyes, what color are they?”

“Hate to be impolite but what’s up with your face, dude?”

“I don’t see this going well.”

“You still don’t get it, I WANTED to hit you in the face.”

“Didn’t that give you chills?”

“I do everything without consulting you, why should I start now?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?! ...don’t answer that.”

“Giddy up on over here.”

“Being cute is not a full time job.”

“I’ll crush you like a bug, just like I did in skeeball!”

“You know I’m a good actor! I’ve been acting like I like you for years!”

“I’m so glad you finally found something you’re half-good at.”

“You’re gonna get electrocuted eventually.”

“Eww, is this diet?”

“Sleep with one eye open tonight.”

“I don’t wanna end up the male equivalent of chicks with cats!”

“I just ate a bunch of sugar, guess we’re both having good days.”

“It’s so funny when people you don’t know explode.”

“In situations like this I usually say hosed.”

“One more good idea and I might have to bother learning your name.”

“Excuse me while I pretend to take a phone call.”

“You’ve said that every five minutes.”

“Don’t stare at me.”

“I think I’m gonna keep you around for a while.”

“I’m not sure whether to scream or laugh so I’m gonna do both at the same time.”

“Ooh that sounds like a good idea if it wasn’t for the “work” part.”

“I thought of that but I was hoping you wouldn’t get there, because, y’know, it’s just trouble.”

“Don’t you ever hold back another devious idea again. You’re good at it and you need to start owning it.”

“You’re my best friend, you know I’m up to no good all the time!”

“Guess you should’ve thought your little plan through a little more carefully.”

“I see what you did there. I don’t like it, but I respect it.”

“Wouldn’t it be awesome if that was the pizza we forgot to order?”

“Nobody likes a one-trick pony.”

“I know nothing ever feels finished to me unless I rub it in someone’s face.”

“...this broke on it’s own.”

“Now I’m mad at both of us!”

“People really underestimate my arm wrestling skills.”

“You’re in here way too often.”

“You think this is hilarious, don’t you.”

“I didn’t mean to do that but that is so much funnier than what I’d meant to do.”

“You know I use laughter to hide the pain!”

“Lucky for you, today’s the day I’ve decided to help others.”

“Let’s just call it a practical joke, okay? It’s less of a red flag.”

“Never love anything too much. It will eventually disappoint you.”

“You think I’m an evil genius? That’s so sweet!”

“Well that was weird and meaningless.”

“Why do people think I don’t date?”

“You’re talking to me, I’m taking it as a victory.”

“Oh, no wonder smart people are so fun!”

“Your brain has a short attention span, it’s very easy to overpower.”

“You don’t need dialogue for a comedy to be funny.”

“I think you know a better way to thank me.”

“I’m exhausted from all that running and overacting.”

“I like you. I hope you don’t wreck it.”

“I try to avoid situations that emphasize my awkwardness.”

“The value of sleep is a myth.”

“We’re not THAT dysfunctional.”

“This is SO going on the Internet.”

“Say whatever you want, we all know how much you care about this.”

“Yeah, I think you’re the only one who knows what you’re talking about.”

“There was a time when I thought you wouldn’t amount to much. That time was yesterday.”

“I feel like I’ve asked enough questions to not be responsible for what’s about to happen.”

“Sorry, but the public has spoken and they love me.”

“Come down here and see how great I am!”

“You think I’m doing nothing, but really I’m planning against you.”

“I find that if you keep acting like something you want’s gonna happen it just does.”

“Get out of here, I’m about to do something you don’t want to know about.”

“People used to make fun of me behind my back but now I’m okay with it.”

“Knowledge is cool.”

“You’re odd, but you adore me and I like that.”

“You know, things are not looking good for you.”

“Yeah, hi. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Good luck not being ashamed of all that, sweetie.”

“You know how I always support your unpredictable whims.”

“I knew how this was gonna go, I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.”

“Do you ever listen to yourself or is there an invisible shield that just blocks your ears?”

“You’re making it hard to be supportive.”

“I didn’t think this moment would happen because, if I did, I probably wouldn’t have done it.”

“I’ll try to say this as nice I can but you look like something I snaked out of my shower drain.”

“I can only learn one new thing a week.”

“I’m still mad at you for the last time you said I hold a grudge.”

“I need to get back to doing a lot of nothing.”

“Winging it never fails.”

“My two favorite things now are baking my own pie crust and knitting.”

“I’m just gonna move this breakable stuff outta the way here…”

“This was urgent, like, a minute ago.”

“If anybody should be playing nice right now, it’s you.”

“I love loopholes.”

“For once I’m not gonna let you ruin something important for me.”

“I most definitely do not need your help.”

“See what I just did there? It’s called lightening the mood.”

“I’ve never been more happy to be somewhere I didn’t wanna be my entire life.”

“So you’re admitting that this is kinda your fault.”

“Okay, so, second time’s the charm.”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea, why don’t I lead and you follow.”

“There’s a right way to do things and that’s the way I like to do them.”

“This is the longest you’ve ever gone without making fun of me.”

“I know I don’t say it very often, but thank you.”

“You gotta learn to let me do the talking.”

“Even in the face of the most imminent doom you still can be super annoying.”

“Seriously, what is with all this hugging?”

“The thing about proms is that people always expect too much and then they’re always let down.”

“People underestimate the power of goofy.”

“Sometimes I stifle my excitement in front of you because you’re rarely ever excited like this.”

“You should probably pay me for this.”

“Girls love alternate means of transportation.”

“You’d make an amazing pickpocket.”

“Walk with me and keep telling me things you love about me.”

“___, how can you be so cute and so spineless at the same time?”

“Hey, this right here is the highlight of your whole life. How do you feel about it now?”

“Just once I’d like to win one of these!”

[eddiesasspbrak]

“About what you said back there...”

Prompt inspired by one line of dialogue. Warning for homophobic language and bullying.

Also on AO3

Eddie is targeted by bullies and Richie steps in to save him. 

3k+ words. Oneshot

Once again, Eddie Kaspbrak found himself cornered by a group of bullies who were determined to ruin his day. Not that his day was going great to begin with. He’d forgotten his homework on his desk in his room. For every single class. Endlessly he was lectured about not having his homework, class after class, hour after hour. He’d stayed up late the night before to get it all done too so he was exhausted. He’d dozed off in algebra only to have Bill throw at eraser at his head before the teacher saw.

He’d decided to spend his lunch napping in the only place he was likely not to be disturbed. There was a corner under the bleachers, not far from where the smokers hid, where it was shadowed from the sun. It was the perfect dark place when the weather was nice. That’s where Eddie went, hoping to get a bit of sleep before his afternoon classes. Of course, as soon as he settled into the corner against the cold chain-link fence, he was met with unwanted company.

“Well, look who it is.”

Eddie’s eyes shot open at the sound of the voice. He knew this voice. Luke, football player, stereotypical bully rich guy jock. Pathetic really. He acted like he’d stepped out of an actual teen movie from the 80s and it was almost embarrassing to watch. Small guys like Eddie were just the kind of person he enjoyed pushing around. His goons, Rob and Steve, are standing behind him, smiling like assholes.

“Afternoon fellas. What can I do for you?” Eddie hoped they just called him a loser and moved along. He really didn’t have the energy for this right now.

“You’re in our spot.” Luke said, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look menacing.

Ok, that was bullshit. Eddie and his friends napped there all the time and never once saw them around. They didn’t smoke either so it’s not like they were hanging out farther down and saw them. Eddie wondered why they’d chosen to claim this spot, which had been theirs for so long. He had to really weigh whether or not he wanted to argue with them and potentially get his ass kicked in the process. If he did get beat up, his mom would come get him and that would be great, but then she’d take him to the hospital so not so great. Not worth the trouble.

“Sorry. Wasn’t aware this was your spot.” He said flatly, standing up and grabbing his bag off the ground. “Guess I’ll go fuck myself. Assholes.” He said under his breath. They were really not meant to hear that.

“What was that?” Luke asked, taking a step closer.

“Nothing.” Eddie said quickly, trying to walk past them.

Before he made it, Rob and Steve stepped in his path. Eddie stopped in his tracks before crashing into them and sighed. He really didn’t need this. Why couldn’t he just bite his tongue and walk away? He didn’t tell any of his friends where he was going either. One of the dumbest choices he’d made that day.

“Sounded like he called us a mean name.” Steve said, backing Eddie back against the fence.

“That’s what I heard.” Rob agreed.

“Look, I just wanted a place to nap. I’ll leave, you can have the spot and I won’t come back.” Eddie said, putting his hands up.

Rob pulled his backpack from his fingers and threw it into the dirt a few feet away. Steve’s hand came down heavy on his shoulder, making him jump and also cringe because his hands were probably filthy. Luke came to stand between them, in front of Eddie.

“I think you owe us an apology.” Luke said.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie really hated them, but he also didn’t want to get hurt.

Luke twisted his fist in the front of Eddie’s shirt and lifted him up with it, the cold metal of the fence scraping against his exposed lower back. Eddie prayed to whoever was listening that they’d just threaten him, scare him, and then leave him alone. He kept his mouth shut, hoping he wouldn’t antagonize them any further.

“I didn’t hear you.” Luke said, close to this face.

“I-I’m sorry.” Eddie gripped Luke’s wrist tightly as he dangled there. God, why did he have to be so little?

“I don’t think I believe you.”

Eddie knew that he wasn’t going to get out of this anytime soon. Why did he even get out of bed this morning? He could have played sick and his mom would have immediately called the school and let him stay home to rest. He wondered what they were going to do to him, going to make him do. In the past they’d taped him to a wall, his friends finding him later and carefully ripping all the tape off to get him down. They’d made him eat a sandwich they first rubbed in the dirt. It was disgusting and gritty and he for sure puked afterward with Bill rubbing his back. He’d been socked in the stomach more times then he could count, given wedgies that literally ripped his underwear and locked in lockers at least once a week.

He was ready to accept his fate when he heard what, at the moment, was the equivalent of an angel’s choir. His name, loud and clear and enough to take the attention off of Eddie for a second.

“Eddie. You ok?” Richie asked as he approached.

“Hey, Rich. I’m not doing so great.” He said with a half smile.

“I can see why. You’ve got some trash stuck to the front of your shirt.”

Luke released Eddie, dropping him into the dirt. Eddie landed on his butt, groaning at the sharp pain that radiated up his spine. The attention of the three bullies was now on Richie.

“What the fuck did you say, Tozier?” Luke asked, angry.

“I think I said you’re human garbage. Though the human part may be a bit of a stretch.” Richie grinned, his hands in his pockets, relaxed like they were having a casual conversation.

“You think you’re funny?” Luke left Eddie on the ground and walked toward Richie with Steve at his side. Rob stayed behind with Eddie, ready to beat him at Luke’s signal.

Richie shrugged. “Yea. I do. So does Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile immediately fell when Rob looked down at him. Of course, he was smiling at Richie’s words. His self-appointed protector always made him laugh and smile, especially when he was coming to his defense and putting down assholes. The fact that he was in love with him was only part of it.

“I was just going to kick your boyfriend’s ass, but I guess I’ll have to kick yours too.” Luke said, grabbing one side of Richie’s open button up shirt.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Eddie chimed in, on reflex.

“You’re not laying a hand on him.” Richie said at the same time.

“Yea, how are you going to stop me?”

“I’d fight until I’m bloody and dying on the street before I’d let you hurt him.” Richie said defiantly, leaning in close to Luke’s face. “You’re the human equivalent of dog shit. Pathetic. You think you’re some big shot football star who’s going places. You’re going to live in this town the rest of your life, a future gas station attendant waiting to happen.”

“I’m going to pound your ass into the ground, Tozier.”

Richie’s face split into a crooked grin. “Kinky.” He said just before Luke’s fist collided with the side of his face.

Richie lurched to the side with the force, falling to the ground. Luke followed him down and landed another punch along his jaw. Eddie tried to stand and go to his friend, but Rob put a hand to his chest and shoved him back down against the fence. He could only watch in horror as Richie was punch for a third time, his hands on Luke’s shoulders trying to push him off.

As if answering Eddie’s prayers, the cheerleading coach, who’d been walking nearby, heard him yell out and saw what was unfolding under the bleachers. She called out to them, told them to stop as she made her way to opening a few feet away. Steve grabbed Luke by the back of his shirt and pulled him up.

“We gotta go, man.” He said. Cliché as ever.

Luke stood and looked down at Richie. “Fucking fag.” He said before motioning for his friends to follow him as they rushed off.

Richie flipped them off, remaining on the ground. Eddie scrambled on his hands and knees over to Richie, not caring that he was getting dirty in the process. His glasses had fallen off, his left eye already swelling, a cut along his cheekbone. His nose was bleeding though didn’t seem to be broken and his lip was split. Eddie didn’t think three of four hits could do so much damage. He grabbed Richie’s glasses, glad to find they hadn’t been broken, and handed them to him.

“Shit, Richie. Are you alright?” Eddie asked, instinctively reaching to touch his face but stopping himself.

“I feel like my head is about to split open but otherwise ok.” Richie laughed before wincing, the act of smiling pulling at his split lip.

The cheerleading coach had gone after the three bullies and Eddie hoped that she saw their faces. Eddie stood, offering a hand to Richie to help him to his feet. His face was a bloody mess and he needed to put ice on his eye to help with the swelling. Eddie looked like he was close to crying and Richie didn’t want him to get to that point.

“I’m ok, Eds. Chicks like scars, right?” He asked with a small smile, careful of his lip this time.

“I think they’re more impressed when you actually fight back.” Eddie said, sniffling.

Richie’s smile widened as he reached out and ruffled Eddie’s hair. “I could probably use some of your expert care, Dr. K. Want to fix me up?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, shoving his hand away and grabbing his backpack, which was now filthy. “Anyone at your house right now?”

“No. Why? Are you planning to skip?”

“Might as well. I don’t feel like being here anyway.”

“Picking fights with bullies, skipping class, what’s happened to my innocent little spaghetti?”

“Shut the fuck up. Do you want me to fix you up or not?”

Richie wiped the blood dripping from his nose with the back of his hand and followed after Eddie. His house wasn’t far by bike and they were there in less than ten minutes, Richie unlocking the door for them. He called out into the empty house, just to be sure that both of his parents were out. He got no response, so they ventured in.

“Where is your first aid kit?” Eddie asked, going straight to the kitchen.

“Uh…bathroom maybe?” Richie guessed.

He headed to the bathroom while Eddie rifled through the freezer. Richie was sure he’d seen a first aid kit somewhere before, he just wasn’t sure where his mom kept it. Looking under the sink, he found a small white box with a red cross on it near the very back.

“How do you not have an icepack in here?” Eddie called from the kitchen.

“I don’t think we’ve ever really used one.” Richie said, entering the room behind him with the first aid kit.

“This will have to do.” Eddie said, grabbing a small bag of frozen vegetable and turning to face Richie. His eyes fell to the small box in Richie’s hand. “You’re kidding right? That’s your first aid kit? It’s tiny. There’s no way it’s going to have everything we need.”

“I mean, don’t we just need some bandages?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You don’t know anything.” He grabbed a dish towel from a drawer and wet the corner of it in the sink before instructing Richie to sit at the kitchen table.

Eddie pulled a chair up in front of Richie and sat, opening the small box and sighing at the contents. Inside was a box of bandages, a roll of gauze, and thankfully some antiseptic spray. Richie took his glasses off and set them on the table, pressing the bag of frozen veggies to this left eye. Eddie set to work using the wet towel to clean the dirt and drying blood from his face. Richie could barely see him, but he could still make out the way his tongue poked out of his mouth while he focused.

When he was satisfied that everything was clean enough, Eddie grabbed the antiseptic spray and sprayed it onto a clean corner of the towel, not wanting to spray it that close to Richie’s eye. He dabbed the cut on his cheek with the towel and Richie hissed at the sting.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Eddie said softly.

“Your bedside manner is terrible, Dr. K.” Richie responded with a small smile.

“Shut up.” Eddie said as he very lightly dabbed Richie’s lip where it was split. He couldn’t do much for it, but he could disinfect it. He tried not to focus too much on the fact that he was touching Richie’s lips. They’d never had any problem being close to one another, Richie had for sure kissed his cheeks before. It was no wonder everyone thought they were dating. Eddie denied it whenever it was brought up because it wasn’t true, but that didn’t mean he didn’t wish it were. Richie didn’t even bother denying it anymore.

“Alright, it’s not perfect. It would have been better if you’d had some butterfly closures, but this Flintstones bandage will have to do instead.” Eddie said, sticking the bandage to his cheek.

“Feels better already.” Richie slumped back against his chair, still holding the veggie bag to his eye.

Eddie began cleaning up, standing to throw the garbage away. Richie watched the blurry blob of color that was Eddie as he moved around the room.

“They didn’t hurt you, right?” Richie asked.

“No. They didn’t get the chance before you showed up.” Eddie said, keeping his back to Richie as he washed his hands at the sink.

“Good.”

“You shouldn’t have intervened. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you’d stayed out of it.”

“Better me than you.”

Eddie’s cheeks warmed at that and he was suddenly glad that Richie still had his glasses off. Of course he was glad that Richie had shown up when he did, but he couldn’t help but feel responsible for his injuries. He only said what he did in his quest to keep Eddie safe. He loved him for it, but he wanted to keep him safe too.

“Hey…about what you said back there…” Eddie said, finally turning back to look at him.

“Which part?” Richie grinned. “I say so much it’s hard for me to keep track. They don’t call me Trashmouth for nothing.”

“When you said…you would fight until you were dying in the street to protect me. Did you mean that?”

Richie’s smile grew soft, trembled a bit at the corners of his mouth like he was struggling to hold it in place. “Yea. I meant it.”

“Why? Why do you always put my safety above your own?”

“I’d die if anything happened to you, so it’s better to die making sure nothing does.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never felt so loved as he did in that moment and he wanted nothing more than to let him know how he felt. Emotion welled up in his chest, up his throat and to his lips before he could even think about it.

“Don’t be stupid. I’d die if anything happened to you too.” He said, tears in his eyes. “I love you, Richie.”

Richie’s smile returned. “I know, Eds. I love you too.” He set the bag of veggies aside and slid his glasses onto his face. As soon as he could see, he was met with the sight of Eddie, covering his mouth with one hand, tears spilling down his cheeks, his other hand tangled in the bottom of his shirt.

He opened his arms, signaling without words for the other boy to come to him. Eddie crossed the room quickly, collapsing against Richie and wrapping his arms around his shoulders in a hug. Richie’s arms came down around his middle as he pulled him down onto his lap.

“How about, next time we fight together and neither of us has to die?” Richie suggested.

Eddie nodded against his shoulder. “We need a better first aid kit though.” He sniffled.

Richie breathed out a laugh. “Sure thing, Dr. K.”

Eddie leaned back and cupped Richie’s face with one hand, his thumb bumping the Flintstones bandage. He was so stupidly perfect, even with his face all banged up and bruised. Pushing his glasses up, Eddie planted a kiss to the side of his eye where the bruise was starting to form.

“I told you, scars are hot.” Richie grinned.

“It’s a bruise. Not a scar. Dumbass.”

“Just as effective.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Richie’s mouth snapped shut, the dopey grin gone. “Yea. Yes. Absolutely.”

“What about your lip?” Eddie asked, nudging the corner of Richie’s mouth with his thumb near where it was split.

“It’s fine. Kisses are supposed to make injuries better, right?”

Eddie smile and rolled his eyes, leaning down to connect their mouths. The kiss was innocent, soft, just testing the waters. Eddie let his hands rest against Richie’s chest, the other’s hands holding tight to his hips, keeping him on his lap. Not that Eddie was planning to go anywhere any time soon. Feeling more comfortable now, they decided to experiment, their lips moving together. Richie winced, making Eddie pull away.

“Did that hurt?” Eddie asked, eyeing his lip.

“Worth it.” Richie said with a grin, pulling Eddie back in for a hug.

[megan0013]

trollhunters: two years, too long

trio friendship, stricklake - 1,333 words - angst

there may be two parts, but really this is just a bunch of dialogue to get my creative juices flowing. and this trope has been stuck in my head forever. so there’s that.

“I don’t…” Jim’s eyes dart frantically from Claire to Toby and back again. “I don’t understand. What happened to you guys? Why do you look…” He shakes his head and gestures at Tony’s freshly trimmed facial hair. “How did you grow a beard?”

“Jimbo. Um.” Toby swallows and glances briefly at Claire, hoping for some sort of intervention from the self-proclaimed master of improv. She provides none. “Dude, it’s uh… It’s been two years.”

Jim’s nose wrinkles in confusion as he stares blankly at his best friend. “Two years? Since what?”

“Since you disappeared into the Darklands,” Toby says slowly, wincing at the look of utter disbelief that takes hold of Jim’s features.

“What? No. No, I was only in there for three weeks. Twenty-two days, exactly.” His gaze swings to Claire. “Claire? Tell him.”

“Jim,” Claire starts. She closes her eyes and raises from her crouch. “He’s right. You’ve been gone twenty-two months. I guess… Well, according to Strickler time doesn’t flow the same in the Darklands as it does here. It’s slower, and every day there is roughly the equivalent of a month on the surface.”

Jim blinks. “But… That can’t be right.”

“Look at us,” Claire says softly and gestures to herself and Toby. “We’re seniors. Toby just turned eighteen and my birthday is next week. Look. He got his braces off a year ago.”

Toby grimaces toothily and points at his perfectly even chompers. “Brace-free and loving it.”

“I don’t…” Jim takes a deep, panicked breath. “This can’t be happening. I can’t…”

“Deep breaths, Jimbo,” Toby instructs soothingly. He reaches out to place a calming hand on Jim’s shoulder as he drops his face into his hands. “Remember? Deep breaths.”

Jim squeaks and then suddenly looks up, eyes wide. “My mom!”

“Is fine,” Toby assures him as Claire once again crouches down to the boys’ level. When Jim opens his mouth to seemingly argue, Toby swiftly cuts him off. “She knows everything. All about trolls and goblins and what you were doing in the Darklands. We, um…”

“We had to tell her,” Claire says with a sigh. “We could only keep up appearances with the Glamour Mask for so long. And when you didn’t come back after a few weeks… It wasn’t fair to keep it from her anymore.”

Jim groans, anguished with shame and guilt for his mother’s most-assured emotional cliff dive.

“Strickler did most of the talking.” Toby gives Jim’s shoulder a squeeze. “He’s a lot better at that kind of stuff. And we figured your mom would need the support.”

Claire snorts and Toby flashes her an annoyed glance.

“What?” Jim asks, looking at Claire in alarm. “What was that for?”

“He’s just…” Claire shakes her head, but does award him a genuine smile. “He’s been very helpful, Jim. When Usurna dumped the bridge pieces –“

“Usurna what?!”

“She had Killahead Bridge torn down,” Claire breathes. “And then she had the pieces dumped in the middle of the ocean.”

“But Claire,” Toby nudges her with his shoulder, “and NotEnrique were able to recover most of them from the shipping container before it sank.”

“I still have nightmares.”

“But we thought a few of them were lost forever,” Toby admits. “Strickler, however, has friends in low places. It took some time –“

“Obviously,” Claire interjects under her breath.

“- but we finally managed to locate the remains of the container and collect the last couple of pieces. We’ve been rebuilding it in secret.” Toby nods at the fully constructed bridge behind them. “Dude, your mom is gonna freak. She hasn’t given up hope for a second. Even when the rest of us…”

Jim ignores the sheepish look on his friend’s face as he trails off and scans the wooded area around them. “Where is she? If she knows about all this, why isn’t she here?”

“She’s at home with the bae-ked goods.” Toby’s eyes widen. “We baked things. To honor your, um, return?”

“We didn’t tell her.” Claire rolls her eyes at Toby’s lame attempt to cover his almost-slip. “She’s been through enough and we didn’t want to get her hopes up in case anything went wrong. She doesn’t even know we finished rebuilding the bridge yet.”

“Which reminds me,” Toby mumbles as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He scrolls through the contacts and shoots off a quick text before returning it. “Strickler. He’ll give her the heads-up so she won’t be so shocked when you get home.”

Home, Jim thinks with a surge of longing. “Can we go now?” He asks, and slowly gets to his feet. “This is a lot to take in and I really just want to… I just really want to go home.”

“Yeah!” Claire says a little too brightly. “Of course. Um, do you want me to use my staff or –“

“No.” Jim shakes his head. “No, I’ve had enough of magic portals tonight. Can we just walk?”

“Yeah,” Toby agrees instantly and they begin heading toward the south end of the woods. He pulls out his phone again and shoots off another text. “Totally.”

They walk in silence for a few minutes as Jim very slowly begins to digest this latest predicament he’s found himself, until he suddenly asks, “What have you guys been doing?”

“What?”

“A lot happens in two years,” Jim says softly, realizing the truth behind the words and what it must mean for him. “What have you guys been up to?”

“Oh. Well, I’m an alien.”

“And he was Homecoming King.”

“Wait.” Jim shakes his head. “You what?!”

“Yeah, well.” Toby shrugs and grins. “Dating Darcy really scored me some popularity points. You should have seen Steve’s face when my name was announced. Dead, dude. He was just… dead. Probably one of the best moments of my life.”

“No.” Jim rolls his eyes. “You’re an alien?”

“Oh, that!” Toby nods as they step out of the woods. “My grandfather was from a planet called Akiridion 5. Pretty cool dude. A little intense, but that’s okay. I think you’ll like Vex.”

“He’s alive?”

“He lives with us,” Toby says, eyebrows raised. “A little awkward sometimes, but hey. He makes Nana happy.”

“So,” Jim rubs his hand over his face, “you’re an alien and Homecoming King? Okay. Claire?”

Claire shoots him a small, sideways smile. “Witch.”

“Why does that make more sense than anything else you’ve told me tonight?” Jim takes a deep breath. “And Aaarrrgghh is alive? But how did that even happen?”

“Strickler had a book all about Creeper’s Sun. We had to get it back from the Janus Order –“

“That was an adventure.”

“-first, and when we finally got the antidote Aaarrrgghh was… Possessed?” Toby glances at Claire for confirmation. “Yeah, possessed by Kanjigar for a hot second. And then he got repossessed when we finished the bridge. But that was because we needed a Trollhunter to open it.”

“There was a very endearing father/son moment between Kanjigar and Draal,” Claire adds.

“I’ll admit,” Toby sighs, “I teared up a bit.”

“Wow,” Jim chuckles, though he doesn’t sound amused at all. “Sounds like I missed a lot.”

“We’ll fill you in,” Claire says softly and gives his forearm a gentle squeeze. “And I’m sure we’re in for a lot more adventures now that you’re back.”

“We?”

Claire opens her mouth, closes it and clears her throat. “We’ll talk more about that later. Okay?”

He doesn’t like the answer, but Jim’s tired brain can’t seem to dwell on it as they turn onto his cup-de-sac and his house comes into view. He swallows, unsure and excited and relieved all at once.

“Do you want us to go in with you?” Claire asks.

“No.” Jim takes a deep breath as he walks up the path to his own front door. “I can handle it.”

“Jim…” Claire frowns at Toby. “Look, we’ll be at TP’s if you need us.”

Jim nods, but his focus is solely on the door in front of him.

[sam-lives-story]

#SamLives - Chapter 9

“Spaceballs and Nightlights”

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Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

It was late at night by the time Jack and Mark returned to the Irishman’s apartment, their familiars in tow. Tim had fallen asleep in his carrier on the way home and Sam, while not quite down for the count just yet, was definitely less chatty and less active then he had been earlier. The pair of YouTubers were sitting on Jack’s couch watching a movie.

(Not on cable, and not on Netflix or Hulu either. Mark had helped him disconnect his television from the internet for the time being, but Jack still had a DVD player set up and a decent collection of films to choose from.)

“Spaceballs is a damn classic of a film, and nobody can convince me otherwise,” Mark grinned. His sock-clad feet were kicked up on the coffee table and Tim was dozing in his lap.

Jack snorted, a beer in hand. He brought it to his lips while he watched the characters on screen “comb the desert” for the runaway Princess Vespa and her rescuers. Literal combing, involving giant combs as tall as the troops who were using them.

“Oh, totally,” he agreed readily. “The whole thing is so quotable.”

“Lone Starr!” Mark recited dramatically. “I am your father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate!”

“What does that make us?” Jack retorted in continuation of the dialogue.

Then, in unison, both knowing the scene by heart:

“Absolutely nothing!”

They fell into laughter, Jack’s bright and boisterous voice coming out louder than Mark’s deeper giggles. The Irishman ended up coughing a little at the end of it, taking another drink from his bottle to soothe the roughness in his throat.

“Fuckin’ hell it’s been a while since I’ve watched this,” Jack chuckled softly once he’d recovered himself.

His voice was still hoarse from what Anti had done to him during the stream, but it wasn't as bad as it had been that first night. There was an undertone of roughness lacing his words and his breathing sounded more like wheezing if he was really worked up. He could tell it would be a few days before his voice returned to its usual state of full volume and bright energy. Surely his audience wouldn't mind though, Jack mused. A sore throat wasn’t uncommon with how much he used it on a daily basis. Afterall he had done quieter Let’s Plays in the past for the same reason…

Jack’s smile faded. Recording. He hadn't even thought about it since yesterday before the stream. He would need to record something soon, wouldn’t he? Even if it was a “Hey guys! I’m not dead! Don’t freak out!” video, the community deserved some sort of proof, some sort of comfort after the way he had left the stream. Jack tensed and chewed on his bottom lip, brow furrowed and fingers nervously drumming against the neck of his beer bottle.

The thought of going back in that room, back in front of that camera, back in front of his computer where Anti had appeared before–

“Jack? You alright man?”

Mark’s concern was evident without Jack even having to look up from his drink.

“...I need to record more videos.”

The words were quiet, uncertain, as though he wasn’t quite sure if he should say it aloud.

“What, you mean now?” Mark turned in his seat to stare at Jack. His expression was unidentifiable, somewhere between confused and concerned with a hint of bemusement thrown into the mix. Jack only caught a glance of the look on his friend’s face before locking his eyes on his beer again, shaking his head a little.

“Well - no. Not right now. I’m too fuckin’ tired to do anythin’ else today.” He drummed his fingers against the glass bottle in his hands once more, a familiar rhythm that he couldn’t quite identify himself even though he was certain it was one he’d played on the drums before. A soft sigh escaped him.

“Mark, I can’t just cut off contact with my community,” he explained as evenly as he could. “Any other time I’ve had an Anti video go up, I’ve posted a video either later that day or the day after so nobody freaks out. And I know,” he interrupted Mark as he went to open his mouth, “I know this time is different. This time was real. But the community needs to know I’m not–” Jack broke off, unable to finish the sentence the way that he’d been intending to.

Not dead.

“You want them to know you’re okay.” Mark’s tone was one of understanding, if not still a little concerned. Jack nodded. He heard Mark let out a slow breath and heard the clink of glass on wood; Mark had set his drink on the coffee table. The movie continued playing in the background, and for a moment Jack’s focus tuned into the dialogue.

“Yogurt. Yogurt. I hate Yogurt. Even with strawberries…”

Jack snorted out a half-hearted, huffed laugh and reached for the remote, pausing it mid-scene. He tossed it back onto the coffee table with a light clatter of plastic on wood.

“...yeah,” he finally responded, drawing his eyes up to meet his friend’s searching gaze. “Yeah, they need to know I’m alright. I just - hell, I almost want to keep recording some games so people don’t think anything is wrong.”

“Robin’s got a few lined up, you know.”

Jack blinked at that, the comment being so unexpected it threw him for a loop.

“He – wait, what??”

Mark actually looked a little sheepish. He shrugged and smiled and looked away, ruffling his hair a little as he did so.

“I’ve had your phone all day, Seán,” he said in way of explanation. “Robin kept texting asking if you were alright and I figured it’d be alright to respond for you.”

“Th’ hell did you tell him?”

Jack put his own drink aside now, turning sideways on the couch and tucking one leg under him so he could face Mark fully.

“Well he said he saw the stream, so he clearly knows about Anti now!” Mark spluttered. “So I just – don’t give me that look! I didn’t tell him about anything he didn’t already know! I just told him you were alive and pretty shaken up. He asked if you wanted him to upload anything today and - well I probably could’ve asked you, but I told him you were taking a day to recover and that it was up to him for now. He just said he’d keep editing what he had for now and said to get back to him tomorrow.”

Jack stared at Mark in utter disbelief, not saying a word. Mark made a wild gesture with his hands.

“Okay I probably should’ve asked first, yeah! But - look, you’re basically petrified of technology right now, so I didn’t want to make you talk to him yourself today, and I figured - that’s what I would do if I was in your shoes, so–”

“Mark, shut the fuck up.” Jack shook his head. “I could fuckin’ kiss you right now.”

“Please don’t. Septiplier doesn’t need any more fuel for the fire.”

Jack punched the American in the arm.

“I don’t mean literally, asshole,” Jack retorted, and despite his best efforts to stop himself, he ended up smiling like an idiot. “You’re amazing. D’you know that? Thank you. Holy shit.”

“Do I know that I’m amazing?” Mark parroted back, still rubbing at his arm where Jack had ‘punched’ him. “Yes, in fact, I do. And such amazingness is not free, so in exchange for such a service to your life and its improvement, a large donation can be made to–”

Mark was cut off rather abruptly by a pillow to his face, being wielded by a grinning Irishman who felt a lot less stressed now than he had only moments prior.

“Oh, shut up!” he stifled a laugh, then stifled a cough, bringing his sleeve up to cover his mouth. He swallowed thickly and shook his head at Mark’s antics.

“In all seriousness, Seán, it’s nothing,” Mark smiled, clutching the pillow Jack had flung his way. “You’re dealing with some serious shit right now. It’s the least I could do.” He set the pillow aside and carefully scooped Tim up from where he had started to stir in Mark’s lap, his little blue eyes blinking slowly in sleepy confusion. Mark was careful in his movements as he stood and moved his little buddy over to the armchair, where Sam had fallen asleep not too long ago. The minute the tiny box was comfortable his eyes drooped again and he drifted back to sleep.

Jack watched the small pair for a long moment, a soft, adoring smile falling across his features. Sam had never had a friend before. Jack was his closest companion, his family, but...it wasn’t the same. Jack was the equivalent of Sam’s caretaker, his pseudo-dad. The little eyeball didn’t have anybody like him that he could play with or interact with. Nobody existed like him...or so Jack had thought, before Mark had shown up with Tim in tow. Tim was the friend that Sam had needed. Tim was just as unbelievable as Sam, just as lonely, just as adorable and friendly, and it was really no surprise that the two had hit it off from the beginning. Jack only hoped that they could spend as much time together as possible before Mark left for America, whenever that would be.

“...you’re serious about wanting to film something, right?” Mark asked, breaking Jack from his thoughts. The Irishman slowly dragged his gaze away from the pair of familiars to see Mark watching him with that same, indistinct expression from before in his eyes. Concerned, curious, and bemused.

“Totally serious,” Jack agreed. “They deserve something, even if it’s...not the full truth.”

“What, are you gonna tell them it was a prank?” Mark asked incredulously. He sat on the edge of the coffee table and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Are you gonna say the whole Anti thing was just another Ego video, and sorry that you scared everybody?”

“Oh, god no!” Jack’s eyes went wide and he shook his head rapidly. “Fuck, I’m not suicidal. If I outright say that Anti’s not real he’ll fuckin’ murder my ass! No...” He ran both hands through his hair, weaving his fingers together and letting his palms rest at the back of his head. He shook his head again, looking away in thought. “I mean I’m not gonna lie to everybody, but I’m not gonna outright tell the truth either. If I come out and say ‘Guess what, guys? Anti’s real! He totally tried to kill me! Look, here’s the bruises!’ then either some parents are gonna get pissed, or – well, even worse–”

Jack’s expression turned a little strained and he met Mark’s eyes.

“If he’s really powered by belief, then Anti might get even stronger, wouldn’t he?”

“Shit. Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Mark dragged his hand across his mouth, falling into thought himself. The room was quiet for a long moment, and there was a tension there that Jack was fairly certain had never fully left in the first place.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay to do this?” Mark asked him softly. He searched Jack’s expression for something, anything, that would tell him otherwise. “You could barely call your mom today.”

“God, I hope I can,” Jack breathed. “Fuckin’ hell – it’s gonna be harder than that. It’ll be so, so much harder. I’ll be back in the recording room, back in front of the camera, back in front of the computer again. I haven’t been in there since Anti–”

He sucked in a shaking breath all of a sudden, curling in on himself, and Mark instinctively reached out to put a grounding hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“I know.” Mark’s voice was as smooth and calming as ever, the deep tones helping to sooth Jack’s panic before it had even begun to build. “That’s what I mean. I know you need to do this, but I also know it won’t be easy for you. You’re going back into the lion’s den, technically speaking.”

“Tell me about it,” Jack muttered, folding his arms over his chest and curling forward toward his friend. “It’s gonna be a fuckin’ nightmare.”

“...you know what?”

Jack looked up then, seeing a bright expression spreading across Mark’s face. He blinked.

“What?”

“This time is gonna be different.” Mark grinned triumphantly before continuing: “I’m gonna be in the room with you.”

“You...really?” Jack found himself smiling softly too, a brilliant hope blooming in his chest. “You’d do that?”

“Hell yeah!” Mark nodded. “It’s not like it’s some major inconvenience or something, Jack, I’m literally gonna be sitting in the same room as you. That’s about it. But it’ll be you, and me, and Sam and Tim. All four of us. And I don’t know about you, but I can count, and I’m pretty sure we outnumber him.”

“Who would win?” Jack quipped, his own attitude brightening with how infectious Mark’s enthusiasm was. “Four giggly boys or one glitchy bitch?”

“Four tough gigglers, that’s who!”

“Pfft, oh fuck off!” Jack chuckled. “Alright. Alright, fine, that doesn’t sound too bad.”

There was a moment’s pause, and then:

“Thanks Markimoo.”

“No problem Jackaboy.”

Sleeping arrangements hadn’t really been thought out at all, not until both Jack and Mark decided they needed to get to bed. While it was true that there was a guest room - a really simple spare room with a full size bed, nothing too fancy - Jack found himself reluctant to stay in any room alone for very long. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, but he was more than grateful when Mark was the one to offer that they bunk together in Jack’s room. Two pillows, one air mattress, and a heaping pile of blankets later, and Mark had managed to construct himself a sleeping spot on the floor. The American had dubbed his creation “surprisingly cozy”, though Jack found himself offering to take the floor so his friend and guest was more comfortable.

Mark, of course, declined vehemently.

The bedroom door was kept firmly shut and a nightlight was plugged in across the room. With the security of a closed door and a dim bulb, it didn’t take very long for both boys to find sleep alongside their familiars. For a few hours, everything was peaceful.

The arrangements seemed well and all, at least in theory. Jack wasn’t alone and Mark was comfortable enough. But at some point in the middle of the night Mark woke up to a voice in his head and movement across the room.

“Mark!”

The American blinked sleep out of his eyes and crunched up his face in confusion, rolling over to face the bed.

“Sam…?” he mumbled, sitting up groggily. He dragged a hand through his hair with a yawn and ruffled the “floof” a little. Brown eyes blinked slowly, sleepily, still trying to regain full functionality in Mark’s barely-awake state. He squinted across the room to try and make out Jack’s blurry form without his glasses on.

“...n-no...ngh…”

Quiet, distressed sounds from Jack’s side of the room brought Mark to full attentiveness quickly. His breath hitched.

“Jack?” he spoke up again, louder and more assertive this time. “What’s up, man?”

Jack didn’t appear to have heard him, still shifting beneath his covers and making strained noises of discomfort. Mark could hear the Irishman’s breathing quickening and increasing in intensity, wheezing breaths leaving him as he tossed and turned in bed.

“Mark you gotta help! I can’t wake him up!”

A small green blob was shaking in the corner of Mark’s vision, the little eyeball sitting on top of the nightstand beside Jack’s bed. But Mark didn’t even need to hear Sam’s pleading to know Jack needed his help.

Mark kicked off his blankets and stumbled to his feet, one hand groping for his glasses on the dresser as he went. He shoved the frames onto his face and Jack finally came into focus. The other YouTuber was pale - paler than usual, that is - and he was drenched in a cold sweat. He’d managed to simultaneously free himself from the majority of his sheets while also getting himself hopelessly tangled in them. Dark brown hair clung to his forehead and one of his hands - the one that wasn’t tugging desperately at his bedding - was at his own throat, grasping and clawing at something that wasn’t there.

“No...nonono...s-stop it stop it stop it–”

“Jack!” Mark clambered onto the mattress and reached out for Jack’s wrist, slowly prying his hand away from his already-damaged neck. “Jack, c’mon man, it’s just a nightmare. Snap out of it.”

He gripped Jack’s shoulder with his free hand to shake him awake, and the reaction was instantaneous.

“N-No! Get OFF! GET AWAY!”

Jack struggled vehemently against the weak grip Mark had on him, his hand - the one Mark was still gripping the wrist of - curling into a tight fist. He tried, rather frantically, to yank himself free.

Mark winced. A minute feeling of guilt found its way into the back of his mind, an ounce of regret at having to restrain his friend like this when he was clearly terrified of something only he could see, but he knew that if he didn’t then Jack may very well hurt himself in his panic. So instead of letting go and giving in, Mark held Jack’s clawing hand further out of reach before drawing his other hand back.

“Sorry ‘bout this, Jack,” he muttered, more to himself than anybody else, then slapped the Irishman clean across the face.

Jack jolted awake, his eyes flying wide in shock, and he sat up so fast that Mark had to dodge out of the way to avoid a head-on collision. Jack was still breathing harshly and a high-strung panic was evident in his eyes and his frantic movements, in the way he immediately started scrambling back away from Mark until his back was pressed flat against the headboard of the bed. All the while he continued to try and tug his arm free from Mark’s loose grip.

“Stop it...s-stop...lemme go–”

“Seán.” Mark kept his voice level and his eyes locked on his panicking friend. “It’s me. It’s Mark.”

Finally, recognition seemed to dawn in Jack’s eyes...and he slowly stopped struggling. Blue eyes blinked sluggishly and stared through the near-darkness in strained confusion.

“...Mark?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” Mark let out a soft breath of relief. At long last, he let Jack’s wrist go and dropped into a more comfortable position next to his friend. “Shit, you scared me. Are you alright?”

Jack swallowed thickly and looked around at the barely lit bedroom, brow furrowed. He was still tense and his breathing was still quicker than average, but even that seemed to be settling the longer they sat there.

“I...y-yeah. Holy shit…”

As though finally realizing that it was just them in the room, that he wasn’t in any real danger, Jack deflated against the headboard with a low, shaking breath. He scrubbed both hands over his face and let out a muffled groan.

“Fuck Anti.” The words were muted beneath his palms but the frustrated undertone to the words was evident. “Fuck Anti, and fuck me for fuckin’ putting him in my videos…”

“Must’ve been a pretty bad nightmare,” Mark murmured. He continued to watch his friend with a worried expression, his gaze falling on Jack’s neck. The bruises were still there, the skin now a dark purple-and-black pattern that Mark could clearly see was in the shape of a hand and fingers. New, red lines had appeared there too though, long scratches that didn’t even break the skin, the result of Jack clawing at his own neck in his nightmare-induced panic.

Mark found it a little hard to swallow as he dragged his eyes away from the spot.

“You don’t even want to know,” Jack grumbled.

“I might.”

Jack let his hands drop into his lap and leveled Mark with an incredulous look.

“D’you really?” he asked.

“Well–” Mark shrugged, the action a little lopsided. “–not so much that I wanna know the dirty details, but more like...if you need to talk about it, I’m willing to listen.”

A small, huffed breath left Jack - the equivalent of a humorless laugh - and he shook his head.

“Nah. ‘S nothing new.” It was his turn to shrug, wrapping his arms around himself as he did so. “Just reliving a memory.”

Ah. The stream. Not wanting to press any further, Mark just nodded in understanding.

It had been over twenty-four hours since the livestream had happened, along with whatever kind of hell Jack had been put through by his digital demon of a doppelganger. Over twenty-four hours...but not much longer than that. Mark had watched his best friend break down into a panic no less than three times since arriving here in Brighton, and he was sure there had been moments he hadn’t seen, instances both before and during his stay that Jack wouldn’t ever bring up to him. Jack was strong, stronger - Mark thought - than he gave himself credit for. He himself would be just as affected if their situations were flipped. The fact that Jack was also so concerned for his community, so caring of them that he wanted to combat his own present fears to make sure they knew everything was alright? It spoke volumes about the kind of person he was.

“Well if you need to talk about it,” Mark offered softly, “you know I’m here. I may not be a therapist but I’ve got shoulders and I’ve got hands and I’ve got arms, so that’s pretty useful.”

“...what?”

Jack’s confusion took the place of some of the strain that had been in his eyes a moment before, and Mark gave himself a mental pat on the back. He fought to keep a straight face and pulled on a slightly dramatic version of his “serious” voice.

“If you need arms to hug you, or a hand to hold, or a shoulder to cry on, I have all three. So that’s pretty damn impressive for one guy to have–”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mark…”

“What? It is pretty impressive. There are some guys who don’t have hands, or don’t have arms, or don’t even have shoulders, so the fact that I still have all three–”

“Shut up!” Jack chuckled softly and buried his face in his hands again, his shoulders shaking for a much more positive reason than they had been before. “Fuckin’ hell, how does Amy live with you?”

“She lives a very giggly and happy life, that’s how,” Mark grinned, feeling accomplished now that it was clear he’d managed to brighten Jack’s mood.

“Well she’s dating a giggly bitch.” Jack’s grin was an exhausted one, but no less happy. “Giggly is in the couple’s prerequisites with you.”

“That’s probably true. I never checked the fine print before making her sign the Markiplier Dating Contract though.”

“I don’t think I want to know what else might be in that contract.”

“Eh, nothing too harmful. Probably. Might involve whips and chains.”

“You dirty bastard,” Jack shook his head with a tired smirk.

Mark winked and grinned cheekily at his, now much calmer, friend, then glanced over at his makeshift sleeping space on the floor. He sighed, scratched at the scruff along his jaw, and shifted so one of his legs was hanging off the bed.

“Are you alright to get back to sleep?” he asked with a warm smile. He eyed the way Jack was still positioned, having cornered himself against the headboard and curled up there as if to protect himself. He had yet to move from that spot. “No offense, but I think you need the rest.”

“I–”

The Irishman tensed up a little at the prospect. He ducked to avoid Mark’s searching eyes and chewed at his bottom lip.

“...I dunno. I don’t really fancy havin’ another nightmare like that again, stupid as it sounds.”

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all.”

Mark said it with such sincerity that Jack found himself looking up again, both pairs of exhausted eyes locking in the near-darkness. Not for the first time, Jack found himself feeling evermore grateful to have Mark here, to have a friend like him that he could rely on, especially right now. His best friend.

“Do you want me to sleep up here, in the bed with you?” Mark offered. At Jack’s silence, he went on with a smirk: “I mean, not to brag, but I’m a damn good cuddler. You can ask Amy and Chica. And Ethan. And probably Tyler, he’d agree with me too–”

“I’d like that, actually.”

Jack’s admission was quiet and a little embarrassed, but he smiled anyway and he finally stretched his legs out from where they had been tucked close to his chest since he’d woken up. He started to straighten out the tangled mass of sheets and blankets and scooted down the bed.

“Sorry if it’s weird,” Jack mumbled. “But it might help. With stopping another nightmare, I mean.”

“Hey, I offered!” Mark pointed a finger in Jack’s face, and the other YouTuber blinked and stared at the finger, then at Mark with an amused expression on his face. “It’s not weird. And even if it was, I’d be the one making it weird since I started it. So shut up and get comfy because I’m tired and we have recording to do tomorrow. Got it?”

“Heh, yeah,” Jack chuckled, slipping back under the covers and forcing himself to relax. “Got it.”

“Good.”

Mark tugged his glasses off and dropped them on the nightstand, then he burrowed into the blankets and scooted closer to Jack’s side of the bed. For a few precious moments, the room was quiet, the only sound being the steady breathing of the two human occupants in the room and the slight rustling of fabric as Sam snuggled into the bedding Mark had left on the floor with Tim. Mark’s eyes had drifted shut and he was beginning to let sleep’s haze pull him back under its spell...then Jack spoke up again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Thanks, Mark.” He was quiet again for a few seconds before he continued, eyes still lingering on the blank ceiling above him. “I dunno how I would’ve made it through today if I didn’t have somebody here with me. An’ you’ve been a godsend, honestly. I can’t imagine anyone else who could’ve helped me through this as well as you’ve been doin’ so far.”

“Not even Robin?” Mark mumbled. He opened one eye to watch Jack’s profile.

“...well…” Jack sighed and turned onto his side to face his friend. “...nothin’ against Robin, but he’d be out o’ his depth wit’ all this. Ya know? He’s great, an’ a good friend, an’ he’d be supportive to all hell an’ gone if – well, if he knew…” Jack sighed a little at his own words, brow furrowing the slightest bit. “...but I don’t t’ink he’d be able to help me get my mind straight ‘bout all o’ this shite.” His accent was thick with sleep, his words coming out slightly harder to decipher. “It’s different wit’ you, though. You’ve got Egos an’ such o’ yer own an’ you know what I’m dealin’ wit’. Not quite to th’ same extreme, but...well...Dark.”

Jack shrugged. The name itself was enough for Mark to understand, and he nodded subtly.

“So...yeah. You get it. An’ – hell – I’d know fuck-all ‘bout the “why” behind all o’ this if you hadn’t’ve had a t’eory ‘bout it ‘forehand. It really helps ta understand it all. Yeah?”

“Yeah...it does.”

“I guess - jus’ - shite, thank you. T’ank ye, so damn much. You didn’t have ta come out here, an’ you didn’t have ta deal wit’ my pile of nonsense, but you did an’...and it means a hell of a lot.”

Jack blinked rapidly, a shine appearing in his eyes that Mark could tell he was trying to hide. The American chuckled - a low, deep, gentle and familiar sound - and he reached out to draw his smaller friend against his chest in a one-armed hug. He pretended not to notice the damp patches Jack’s silent, grateful tears were leaving on his shirt.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Seán,” Mark grinned through the darkness. “It’s what best friends are for.”

[A/N] Here you go! It’s been a long time coming, but here’s the next installment of the #SamLives series! (If you can’t tell I adore stories that have “FRIENDSHIP IS AMAZING AND POWERFUL AND SHOULD NEVER BE UNDERESTIMATED” as a key part of the plot, so...yup. Keep that in mind. It’s big here.) Anti hasn’t shown his face in a few chapters, and that’s intentional. For one thing, this is literally the night after the stream, so even though it’s three chapters later not much time has passed. But beyond that...Anti’s not an idiot. He likes to mess with Jack and he can’t resist playing with the poor boy’s head, but he’s clever enough to know that there are more players on the board now...and that he has to factor that into whatever plan he might have.

I’ve gotten quite a few ideas from people’s responses to this...so any new plot twists in the future? You can blame those on the other readers :3c

Thanks for reading! <3

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

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[Chapter List]

[friendelius-writes]

Through the Window |:| Tom Holland

Mob!Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: As Tom's new neighbor, [Y/N] didn't know that a look through his window costed them lots.

A/N: Low-key a bit creepy, but hey, I would be curious too. (This is my first official fanfic on this blog! Thank you so much for reading~)

Written by @friendelius-writes

Warnings: Guns, swearing, some violence, angst??

NOT MY GIF

It was a tough two months at [Y/N]'s new home as everything was, well, new. They were completely alone in this new, clean, neighborhood for the first time.

For a while, they didn't know what to do as they were used to hot dinners and nagging, but now, they've been stuck with frozen dinners and the sound of loneliness blasted across the house. Wanting to scratch that itch of going home diminished after meeting their next-door neighbor, Tom Holland.

During a cozy, summer morning while [Y/N] was setting their garden, he was the first person to introduce himself to them. The simple interraction made them feel welcomed and known in this unexplored territory. Now and then, if [Y/N] was outside at the same time as him, Tom would simply make small-talk with [Y/N] before being swallowed by his home.

However, something was tugging in [Y/N]'s mind about him. From generic observations, they have never seen anyone going in nor out of that house besides Tom. Most of his windows were crystal clear and displayed furniture in the room, but [Y/N] hasn't caught sight of that brown-haired male. [Y/N] assumed it was because he's busy, but the amount of time [Y/N] spent at home looking through his windows proved otherwise.

He seemed to be invisible for most of the day as [Y/N] seen no sight of him until those rare moments where he leaves his house and starts up his fancy car [Y/N] doesn't know the brand of. They've never seen Tom return, but he's leaving the house again in a few days. All his groceries were delivered to the back of his house and were always gone by morning. A gardener came once a week as well as someone from the cleaning department.

Once, on a warm, summer evening, with the darkening sky speckled with faint white, [Y/N] was slurping a smoothie as they gazed at the blaring television. The AC was blasting, and [Y/N] was snugged into a reclining chair. A commercial for the next big oven invention was dancing off the white walls, and the smooth hum of the microwave warming their T.V. dinner was the added touch.

Once the microwave chimed, a black van slowed right in front of Tom's house. While rising to grab her T.V. dinner, [Y/N] spectated the van through the kitchen window and observed two men dragging along another person towards the front door with another man dressed in a suit following behind. [Y/N] didn't catch a glimpse of the person, but [Y/N] immediately snatched their chicken nugget dinner and sat back down to watch it unfold. This could reveal more about him.

Bashes at the door alerted Tom, so, he swung the door open and, immediately, confusion jumped onto his face as he glanced between the well-dressed men.

"Why the hell are you here?" Tom demanded as he ushered the men inside in case any prying eyes were watching.

Once [Y/N] shut the television off, they maintain focus on the show unfolding before them as they finally see Tom Holland interact with human life. Unfortunately, they couldn't hear a thing, so they resorted in making up their own dialogue in their head, totally oblivious of the truth.

"We're sorry, mate," started one of the men, "but this little pipsqueak," he gestured to the cowering man, "was so fucking adamant about seeing you about his debt."

"You weren't picking up your goddamn phone, Tom," the other man added quickly with a sprinkle of irritation in his voice. Tom's jaw tensed and shoved his hands into his fluffed hair.

"Well, maybe, Sam, I fucking was purposefully ignoring to get a good night's sleep."

"It's, like, eight o'clock! Why are you fucking sleeping when you could be out having fun with the ladies?"

"Well, maybe, Harry, I'm tired," with a faint growl, Tom rubbed his face roughly, "how many times have I told you to not fucking appear at my fucking house when it's about work?! For all I know, someone could fucking be watching right now!" The twins rolled their eyes simultaneously, and Harry shoved the frighten man towards Tom.

"Just deal with him quickly, then," Harry spat. Tom ran his tongue against his bottom teeth, tightening his jaw. With arms wrapped around himself, he sighed of defeat and faced Harrison.

"I assume you have his file, Haz?" Harrison grinned as he whipped out the manila folder.

"Of course! Did you think I'd come empty-handed?" Tom seized the thin folder and opened it to glance at its contents. Once his eyes laid upon the man's history, Tom tutted and leisurely ambled towards the man who instantly found the pattern in the carpet more interesting.

"Oh, Chase Walker, what am I gonna do?" Tom slapped the folder shut and clutched Chase's chin to snap his head upwards.

"You are here because you wanted to see me, but as I clearly see in the database that you were supposed to return that 250 grand you borrowed from me," he released Chases's chin with a thrust and handed the folder back to Harrison, "the task was simple: get me that 250 grand by today." Chase's eyes wavered as he glanced at Tom and clasped his hands together after dropping onto his knees.

"Pl-Please, I beg you. I-I've only got a hun-hundred grand. I need more time! The re-recent tests on my wife are co-costly! Our insurance—"

"I don't care about your fucking problem!" As if on cue, Harrison handed him a piece of paper with scribbles at the bottom. Tom shoved the paper towards Chase's face.

"Do you not remember this? This was the damn contract you signed, indicating when you'll return the money." Chase shattered as his hot cheeks felt wet while feeling like he was being suffocated in a plastic bag, choking on his words.

"B-but I—"

"No 'but's," Tom tossed the contract to the side and eyed the twins, "take him upstairs to my office." The twins complied and hauled Chase up the carpeted steps.

"Where are they going?!" Exclaimed [Y/N] as they noticed they moved to somewhere else. Hurling their dish onto the table, they shot up and waited to see where they'll be by the windows. They caught sight of the five walking along the second floor through the wide window and then disappeared. For quite sometime, [Y/N] didn't notice them until they saw a barely noticeable Tom far from the window. Where Tom was, [Y/N]'s equivalent was standing in front of their bedroom window. Assessing the situation, their eyes widened and their hand rapidly covered their mouth that flung open at what was in Tom's hands.

"N-no! Wh-what are you doing?! Don't shoot me, I beg you," Chase crawled along the floor and gripped Tom's legs, wailing and pleading to let him live, "please! I'll do anything!" But Tom simply ignored him. He let Chase beg; he let Chase scratch his legs; he let Chase suffer knowing he's going to die.

"Harrison, throw me that silencer over there." Harrison tossed a slick, black, cylindrical silencer to Tom, and Tom caught it right before screwing it onto the front of his pistol. With Chase's cries slowing down, knowing it's not going to do anything, Tom kicked him off and aimed right between Chase's eyes. Once Chases's eyes started to water again, Tom pulled back the safety and pulled the trigger.

With a heavy sigh, he turned around and instantly noticed a figure right across at the neighboring house. His face hardened as [Y/N] realized he saw them. With fear bubbling inside them, they ran as far as they could to reach their phone downstairs. Tom swiveled to the men in the room, and pointed to the window.

"We've been spotted. Catch the person nextdoor, and bring them here!" Ordered Tom as the men sprinted out the door with no delay.

[Y/N] snatched their phone and dialled the police while running out the back door, hoping to get to their vehicle quickly.

"What's your emerg—" [Y/N]'s phone cracked against the ground as another tackled them. Harrison stomped onto [Y/N]'s phone as Sam forced them up while keeping a firm arm around their mouth to prevent loud noise.

[Y/N] whirled around in Sam's arms as Sam kept his stance and hauled [Y/N] towards Tom's house as quickly as possible. Inaudible sounds escaped [Y/N]'s mouth as their arms continuously pulled Sam's arm away from their mouth. Clearly, Sam was stronger than [Y/N], but they didn't give up anyway because anything was better than nothing.

[Y/N] was thrown onto the carpeted floor in the blood-splattered room and caught sight of the dead man lying against the chair. [Y/N] felt their stomach turn inside out and gagged at the image. They turned their head around to avoid it.

"Well, [Y/N]. How much did you see?" Tom's sickly soft voice penetrated [Y/N]'s brain that gave warnings that this guy just murdered a man in his own house. They looked up but refused to make eye contact with the murderer.

"Everything," [Y/N] announced with venom soaked in it. Tom threw his head back as a throaty laugh echoed in the soiled room.

"Pity. You've started to grow on me," informed Tom in a faux sweet tone. He took a few steps back and pointed the gun at their head.

"Sweet dreams."

And he pulled the trigger.

[tellywoodtrash]

suno chanda ep 2 lb

soooooooooo i missed my “deadline” (again.) but that’s nothing new around here. you guys are used to my bs by now. my net was being fucky (thanks monsoons!) so i just went the fuck to sleep last night.

ANYWAY, ONWARDS!!!!!!

was jiya under the impression that arsal WANTED to be married to her or something? itne gusse se yeh sab ISKO kyun suna rahi ho?

btw, doesn’t iqra look like nargis fakhri had a baby with ileana d’cruz?

now there’s the plot for main tera hero 2. ALLLLL THE PRETTY LADIES!!!!!!!

i love how excited and happy arsal gets every time they agree on something.

haaye bechaara, he just wants to make love, not war.

PAHAADI BAKRA!!!! FIRST INSTANCE OF MY FAV INSULT!

“tumne APNI shakal dekhi hai kabhi? jo gusse se naak phulaati ho, toh mirgi ka daura pad jaaye dekhne waale ko!”

haaaye laanat hai tumpe arsal. she’s so pretty!

lmao what’s a “pao bola”?????? 

kekekek i love this idiot boy’s face.

“yehi! yehi tumhari buri aadat hai! har cheez mein jo jaanwaron ko ghused deti ho!!!!!!!!!!!!” lolololol ok guess it’s some kinda animal

yeah i see why ppl were saying that iqra was a little EXTRA in the initial eps. still love her tho, and i think it just goes with the kinda character jiya is.

“toh aisi zehreeli baatein sunke, tum pehli fursat mein... MARR KYUN NAHI JAATE??????”

god grant me the ability to be this savage.

hahahaha dekho kaise poori tarah se chaabi lagaake bhej rahi hai apna kaam karwaane ke liye.

also, her lil typical desi head nod as she sends him off. too cute.

jamshed and his nonsense bandook, pffft.

idk about you guys, but i have neverrr ever once been able to take jamshed seriously when he threatens to beat up arsal. arsal looks like he can just give one stern look of his and jamshed would be cowering behind shanno. lbr the only one here who can control puttarjee is his amma.

“aaja puttar aaa, phenti khaa.” i love how she invites arsal to his doom so casually every single time.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT. IDIOT. abbaji ko bandook sang dekh saari hawa nikal gayi.

HAHAHAHAHAHA SHAHANA’S ISHAAREBAAZI. WHY IS EVERY DESI MOM LIKE THISSSSSSSSSSSSS

hahahahahaha look at him slinking back to her side.

and she too knows him sooooo well. that smug expression of hers was in place waaay before he even sat down.

pffffffffffffft. overconfidenceeeeeeee ki hadh.

look at the way she’s marching towards the room, my tiny little toofaan!

lol the way she literally checks on her head for seengh.

she’s so dramatic, i love it!!!!!

lmaooooooo HIS smugass smileeeeee.

HAHAHAHAHAHA THE NOISE HE MAKES AS HE MOCKS HER WITH THE EYE-TO-EYE GESTURE, I’M DYING. what a pettyasssssss...... 

“badiiiii phon-phaan karti gayi thi.” lmaooooooooo

wait wow, masooma was anti-arsal in the start?!?!?!?!?!? 10 ep mein toh aapko shehzaada dikhne lagta hai woh!!!!

and jalal phupa was ok with him, but anti-jiya! wow, how things changed!!!!!!

NAIK SEERAT, AUR KINZA? KHUDA KA KHAUF KAREIN, JALAL MIYAAN!

lol awww, jalal phupa just wants some lovin’.

god kinza, do you not have any apps on your phone to pass the time? some temple run? twitter? at least candy crush? matlab, kuch aur bhi hobbies develop karo, har waqt is ek bande ki photo hi dekhti rehti ho.

am i supposed to feel bad for her? i don’t. dafa ho, you meesni.

lmao the ammas don’t give one single fuck about these two’s ~~~~angst.

SHANNO’S FACE BE LIKE “BITCH WHO DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO THIS WAY?????? AND YOU PUT THAT FINGER DOWN BEFORE I PUT IT DOWN FOR YOU.��

arsal/jiya, you should call your impertinent declarations “wedding cake”, coz in 30 days, YOU’RE GONNA BE EATING THEM.

bijaan is so amazingly petty towards masooma’s sasuraal lol.

bijaan too, like us, never gave a shit about kinza. kuch bhi kaho, bijaan insaan ko parakhti badi sahi hain. 

OMG SHERRY’S DAD’S NAME IS MUNAWAR. MEANING SHERRY’S NAME IS SHEHERYAR MUNAWAR.

damn bijaan the grudge is stronggggggggg.

SHERRYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. YOU CUTIEEEEEEEEEEE.

aw man, it’s so nice to see arsal and sherry be friendly towards each other.

haaye why’d they have to break up the BROtp like that tho.

huma truly is a saint to put up with the hellion that is jiya. so aggro!

GOD HUMA IS SO STINKING CUTE I CAN’T!!!!!!!!!!! WHY GOD WHYYYYYYYY COULDN’T SHE BE ENDGAME FOR SHERRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY JUST LOOK AT HER SHE’S THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF RASMALAI (SWEET AND SQUISHY)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

gosh i really feel aghaji’s frustration. nothing i hate more than ppl who come obstruct the tv. wtf you think you made of, glass???? SAAMNE SE HATT BEWAKOOF INSAAN!!!!!

“crown mahal” for taj mahal. god sherry, you are SUCHHHHH a burger bachcha!

so much aapas ki rishtedaari ki sherry bhi confuse ki aghaji shanno ke khaalu hain ya phupa. 

UGH HE’S SO CUTE. *kisses screen*

lol sherry ka bhi nickname chanda hai kya? dikhta bhi chand jaisa hi hai. *kisses screen some more*

“bin bulaaye toh allah miyaan ke paas bhi nahi jaonga main, shaadi toh door ki baat hai!” waaaaah, what tadi, what swag.

lmaooooo such typical desi shaadi invitation list - humne unko yeh diya tha, ab humari lene ki baari!

my god masooma and her idhar udhar ke ainvayii ke jhagde, khatam hi nahi hote!

gotta respect jalal for calling out bijaan’s pettyness tho.

haha shahana’s meethi churi waali smile at jalal.

idhar shahana ki nautanki shuru. god this family is so damn Extra.

lo, nawa katta khul gaya. card pe naam chaapne ka.

i am nazaakat. too much fuckery, mera bhi bp shoot kar raha hai.

LOOK AT THIS SAHABZAADA JUST SITTING WAITING FOR HIS ROTIS.

AADHE SE ZYAADA EPISODE HO GAYA, MERA GOLUUUUUUU KAHAN HAI?????

lmao arsal is truly his mother’s son in terms of shadin’ on ppl.

pfffffffft arsal, if you think she’s going to get jealous at some other chick’s ROTI MAKING SKILLZ, you really don’t know her at all.

lmao she was legit just stealing a roti OFF HIS SIDE PLATE. hadhhhhh hai jiya!

arsal’s so used to these threats of violence, he doesn’t even bother retorting.

i love how she just replies to him without even fucking blinking. telling him to piss off is as natural as breathing to her!

GOLU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“lo! aa gaya tumhara matka bhai! laaya hoga tumhare jaisi koi manhoos khabr!” lololololololol

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SCENE: JIYA’S “JAAN CHOOTI!” RELIEF, ARSAL’S INSTANT “YA ALLAH TERA SHUKR HAI!!!!”, JIYA’S LIL SLAP AND HIM QUICKLY CHECKING ON KINZA, WHO BTW HAS SEEN ALL OF ITTTTTT.

lmao arsal’s 300% insincere “so sad!” fucking idiot.

hahahahahahaha, in the end our girl got what SHE wanted - the rotis.

“baap itne jaldi kyun marr jaate hain????” OMFG MASOOMA

adorable fucking idiots.

“haaye jalal miyaan, toh kya main maut ke kuwein mein motorcycle chalaake khush karoon?” lmao bijaan’s examples are the bestttttttt

“kudi te munde da naam katwaake tussi doweyaan da naam likhaa diye?”

lololololol phupa’s face. (and jamshed’s face!!!!!!!!!)

“koi akheeri beghairat aadmi hai jalal phupa!” “haan. bikul tumhari tarah. koi izzat-e-nafz hi nahi hai!”

lmao ek bhi mauka nahi chodti. sach mein bijaan ki hi potttiii hai.

naak like eiffel tower isn’t really an insult tho? everyone wants a nice, straight nose like that!

lmao she called him a daddu tho.

shanno is us. fangirling hard.

is ghar mein SABKO hi BP hai kya?

waise hairaani ki baat hai bhi nahi. harkatein toh ek ek ki aisi hi hain, ki jo bhi dekhein, bp high ho hi jaaye.

EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE AND THEIR LAUNDRY WAALE MASLE, LORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ugh, is kinza ne toh kasam le rakhi hai, istiri kar kar ke biwi banne ka. hattttt manhoos, kitna bhi karle, nahi milne waala tujhe!

lol arsal being like you’re too polite to be related to us badtameez ppl.

EPISODE 2 MEIN HI THIS MEESNI HAS STARTED HER TACTICS. GOD I HATE HER SO MUCH.

ugh arsal, badhaawaa na do!

and god kinza you dumbass, he’s just using you. as his ainvayiiiii ka “yes man” and dhoban.

le, yeh paagal itne mein hi itnaaaaaaaa khush hai. bewakoof beghairat ladki.

lol did he make the shower excuse just to get kinza out of his room???? he’s sitting here in the same pehle waala outfit now.

this pattern waala passcode thing is the most BS thing ever. it’s the easiest way to get into someone’s phone. you just have to observe them unlocking their phone ONCE. why ppl keep using it is beyond me.

lol shaitaani message bheja bhi, toh itnaaa shareeef.

arsal ko golu ki pitaayi kiye bina khaana hazam nahi hota. (god why are boys like thisssssssssssssss)

DUMBASS, SO BAD AT SPYING

OHNOE! CHAANTA! BUT WHY????????????!

oh ho jiyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! kabhi toh ungli mat kiya karo!

haaye bechaare ko ainvayi jhaapad khaana pada. *rubs his cheek*

“DURRR FITTEH MOOH AISE JAZBAATON KA!” lol shanno, maybe take some of your own advice also.

“insaani tareekh mein aisa zaalim, aisa jabir baap kisi ka nahi hai, jitna mera hai!”

ok that’s a bit much betaji.

lol at him side-eying his friend’s roohafza tho. ladka is halal!max.

obligatory dialogue about i may have lived outside but i still gots me sanskaar!!!!!!

or as they put it here, “khaandaani riwayatein”.

lol his animated retelling.

so sherry and aghaji are supposedly in london, but those bags are most definitely for outlets in the middle east.

“by god, itni waahiyat cheap story maine aaj tak nahi suni! jiya ne mere totay udaa diye, maine uska dupatta jala diya..... tum dono ne koi insaano waali harkat ki hai aaj tak?”

lel, this friend (yasir?) is all of us.

lololololol golu’s face.

“kya kar logi itna padhkar? aakhir mein wohi haandi-chulha hota hai.”

ok 0.3 seconds of feeling bad for kinza, that she’s been conditioned to never want more in life.

i love how she says LSE mein admission leti, as if baaju ke kiraane ki dukaan se chai ki patti khareedne jaisa easy ho.

kinza toh just wants to get jiya out of the way. tu chup kar, meesni!!!!!!

aaaaaaaaaaand no doubt, golu’s been paid to drop this little tidbit of info in front of jiya?

[lumiereswig]

Please do the ENTIRETY of Forgotten! Hahaha I’m joking, pick your favorite part because that fic is v long 😍

happily, this gonna get l o n g

“The ball was flawless. In the garden, the roses continued to reach to the sky, and the storm brushed away; the lights shut off in the palace, one by one, and the music faded to silence. The prince went to bed with one or two or three pretty women he wouldn’t care for by the next day. Up in his room, Lumiere popped open a bottle of champagne.”

I set the opening to take place almost immediately after “Lit By The Sun,” though this time showing the evening Lumiere and Plumette never got—the stolen croquembouche up in their bedroom, the sharing of champagne among the servants. In the original timeline, obvs they didn’t get that—they got fire and feathers instead—but yeah. I am totally alluding to my own goddamn fics.

Plumette, lighting the candles by the bed, grinned at him over the flames. He laughed and raised his glass.

It’s not a lumiereswig post if there’s not a fucking fire reference.

“He’s turning just like his father—the prince’s father was like this, too,” Mrs. Potts explains to the musicians, who know nothing about the palace or its politics. They nod and move closer to each other on the bed. “We don’t know what he’d do without us. He’ll be fine, though; we try not to intervene. D’you only have wine up here, Lumiere? I could use a cup of tea.”

Foreshadowing of future bullshit, and also reminding the readers that Garderobe and Cadenza WERE NOT PART OF THIS PALACE-POLITICS SHIT. They did not deserve to be cursed!! fuck you agathe!!!! #justiceforgarderenza2k18

“If you cannot take a little sparkling wine, get yourself to bed, grandmother,” laughs Lumiere, and she swipes at his arms and makes him laugh. He eases into a seat between Cogsworth and Plumette and throws his arms around them.

Really trying to remind everyone how fucking close the staff is. The fam. Also, fuck you bill condon for not letting lumiere hug cogsworth every .3 seconds

“Think how long it has been!” he says. “Forty years for you, Cogsworth, but most of my life for mine. Why, I came here as a teenager—imagine me, only a little older than Chip! Fresh out of Paris and still reeking of the apothecary shop.” He grimaces, thinking of his father’s dusty store in a side-street of the city. He had fled, then, looking for the glamor his missed; in his room in Paris he had practiced dance steps, reveled in fashion, adopted the graceful movements of the court as rebellion against the bourgeois facts of an ordinary existence. He had come to this palace, and he had lit into life; dancing and feasting and glowing like gold made Lumiere’s heart sing.

EYYYY IT’S A HEADCANON I TOTALLY MADE UP

but tbh it makes sense to me (and has always made sense to me) that for all his glamor-gold, courtiers-and-candelabras bullshit, lumiere is not from an upper crust background. he’s too extra to have been born to it. That level of golden eyeliner and tequila has to be aspired to.

“We met in this palace, do you remember, mon trésor?” Plumette is close in his arms; her scent—fresh and light, like candy and macarons—right beside him. “I was only fourteen, and I loved you right away.”

“I loved you before I met you,” murmurs Lumiere. “I could never forget.”

Lots more foreshadowing, and also backshadowing. Gotta remind the idiots in the audience which motherfuckers in this story are in love.

The next day is their day off. It is their one day off in the year.

honestly this makes no sense (one day off a year???) but it’s adam. pre-curse adam. i can write him to get away with pretty much any bullshit and be like “””*shrug* uhhh he’s a beast, dudes, of course he banned puppies and kittens from the palace and hates daisies and sunshine”“

also tbh i hate the whole adam dialogue sequence, it’s really badly written

Adam stands in the lonely, empty halls. If he stands in the tower, he can see them weaving their way through the forest and down to the village, to spend their day in the company of each other, in Lumiere and Plumette’s case, or with loved ones, in the case of Mrs. Potts. No matter what, all the servants have each other. And Adam has nobody.

casual evermore references whenever we can’t get in a flame pun

….after all, at least when he yelled they looked at him.

someone told me this line broke them and i am forever pleased. yes mofos!!! relish my very slipshod, mostly shite grasp of the english language!!!!! revel in my poor grasp of human psychology!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Lumiere! The night grows old.”

 The crone grows young.

to make up for the shit in the previous chapter, I really enjoy this bit. the whole bashing-between-the-palace-and-the-village nonsense just makes me happy.

Belle wakes up to a jolt in the road, and the rough wool blanket on her face, and the smell of cheese and paint and horse and wind clinging to her skin. She rubs her eyes and tries to wipe away the sleep. They’re in the wagon, again, and Maurice is hunched up in the bench, encouraging Philippe to trot faster. The contents of Belle’s entire life are jammed in around her, a moving nest of drawings and gear-boxes and packets of cabbage-seed.

aaand we’re with belle. I had to rewrite this chapter about five million times because it wasn’t working—I had planned it out too much in advance, you know, and was just like regurgitating the writing rather than writing it—but I’m happy with the textural detail of this bit. Again, sometimes it pays to use the words around what you’re going for rather than the literal sensation; in this case, cheese and paint and horse and wind, and that rough wool blanket. Home, but also chill, and travel, and being uncomfortable, and the 18th century equivalent of going on a road trip and eating crackers in the backseat while dad’s up front and the crackers making the seat all gritty and reading books in the light of the passing streetlamps, ya feel?

Lilles, Reims, Amiens

i don’t understand french geography

A tiny, delicate gesture from his long fingers; it is a surprisingly sophisticated movement for a man in a yellow peasant’s vest, with candle wax creased in the dirt between his fingernails.

this whole chapter is slightly hard to read because it’s clearly trying too hard, but i hope i got across (or at least, whacked you across the forehead with) the bits i felt were important: lumiere’s current emptiness, but the last imprints of who he ought to be hanging around. i also tend to mention the peasant’s vest too many fucking times, just because the image of lumiere wearing anything that’s not satin & silk is fucking devestating. also, it will be important later, and i need yall to remember that LUMIERE DOESNT LOOK LIKE HE NORMALLY LOOKS

“I am nothing now,” says the man, in a flash of vehemence so sharp it is like seeing a flame in the middle of the forest. He looks up to her—his face broad, and white; and it is an empty face, and beyond the fire in his words there is nothing there at all. It is as if someone washed out all his color, and left him only with his yellow vest.  

you can tell, again, this is a lumiereswig fic because suddenly the language is all about fires and flashing and flickers and flames and there’s probably going to be a reference to the sun fucking setting at some point

also, honestly, this was hard to write because i was seeing it as a fucking movie in my head, and transcribing ‘ewan mcgregor lies on a village stoop looking fucking dismal’ is not what literary writing is made of

He welcomes her to the stoop with the flick of a wrist and a tiny nod with the pipe,

just to remind everyone once a-fucking-gain, Lumiere Is Not Normal, And You Can Tell Because He’s Not Being Very Welcoming. like honestly if you don’t say hello by doing a song and dance what the fuck are you doing

“I knew someone once who treasured books that way as well,” he says, and a smile drifts across his face, homeless. Something in him is sparking up at the story: dim, and faint, but laughing. “He once made me read the whole Odyssey—”

ok yes thank god the fic is finally getting good again

Sorceresses turning people to pigs, and the lily-eaters forgetting their homes, and Penelope undoing the days until her husband returns

ON. THE FUCKING. NOSE

also if i make a literary reference in a fic i am almost 100% of the time trying to make an obvious as fuck connection between the two

Deeply, deeply frightened. Not of the man on the stoop—she has never seen anyone more harmless, to be quite honest; he is such an empty man, with such silent, lifeless limbs—but of the thing inside his eyes when he speaks of his past. It is Other—a thing not rooted in a Parisian background, or the empty face, or the subdued soul. It is a large streak of gray inside the man’s blue eyes, a gray empty and unnatural and as hollow as cold ice. Staring at his eyes, Belle finds herself clutching her arms with fear.

ahhhh fuck subtlty has gone totally out the window. yall are kind and see what i was going for, but i swear this could be better done if i knew shit

It is obvious to Belle that this is a practiced ritual, the sharing of the secret wine.

in retrospect this fic would be sadder if cogsworth or lumiere weren’t friends, but uhh…i just couldnt bring myself to it.

“Oh là là, he acts as if the French accent is difficult,” says Lumiere, puffing smoke….

LIKE YOU CAN SPEAK FRENCH ANYWAY, YOU SCOTTISH DIPSHIT.

“Get off my stoop!” yells the woman. “D’you have wine down there, Lumiere?“

“If you cannot take a little cheap wine, get yourself to bed, grandmother,” calls Lumiere.

and that’s called taking yourself too seriously and referencing your own fic from a few chapters ago

“Mrs. Potts, the crockery-man’s wife,” says Lumiere, and takes a large gulp of the wine. “I barely know her. Thank God.”

PROBABLY THE BEST LINE IN THIS FIC SO FAR. fucking love the simplicity that does so much more than every labored reference to emtpy fucking limbs or colorless eyes beforehands. one simple line and we’re all fucking realizing THE EXTENT OF ALL THIS SHIT

i gotta head off now but i’ll do the rest later tonight

[send me one of my fics (or a bit from a fic) and i’ll do director’s commentary on it—ask here]

[jash62]

What the Hell Universe

Entry 1 Montague

What the actual fuck universe. What have I done in a past life to piss you off so!? What have I done to you to make my life the multi headed dick Hydra that is my current life!  

Everything is a burnt husk or ruin. If it's not burnt it's mutated if not burnt and mutated. I mean cockroaches the size of Corgis, angry murder fly-bees that shoot it's larva young at you. I swear if there are mutated spiders the size of dobermans, I'm ending it right now. I will eat that bullet with ketchup(if I can find some) damn nature you scary with a irradiated vengeance.

Okay where to start. first I need something to help get my thoughts in order so diary, Journal, log thingy ,or Incase someone finds this on my corpse out in this hell scape. We're about to get real personal real quick. So I guess I'll start with my name.

My name is Montague Alister Hawk, and I'm a time traveler for the year 2077 pre war America.

How is time travel possible you ask hypothetical reader. Well apparently its one part: ignore your best friend's advice and instincts, one part: submit to the peer pressure from your wife and one part: smooth silver tongue Vault Tec rep, and Two part: the fucking Chinese or American government nuking the shit out of each other! Mix with Corporate America mindset and a dash of Vault Tec experimentation. Poor over the iced tears of the working class and bam you get one maybe two possibly three time travelers.

Gods please let my wife and child be safe. Also thanks for keeping my last bottle of whiskey together for the past 210 years.

Okay so here's the thing, my psychologist doc Anders, said that in times of great stress with nothing to do, is to write down my thoughts or this case type them. So here I am, drinking a the last (possibly unirradiated) bottle Jameson. In the burnt out ruins of my home, with the computer (I scavenged from the drug dealer down the street), and with the hopes my wife and son are alive in this hellscape that is the Boston wasteland as Codsworth dubs it.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact when I woke up this morning in the year of 2077 and now it's 2287. In fact we went into vault 111 around 1000 hrs on Oct 23 and I came out of said vault on Oct 23 1100 hrs. And what's worse is today is still a blur.

It started like any other day, I was shaving my beard off in my preparation for the speech I was suppose to give at the VA. I remember Cods giving me some coffee and the knock on the door from that Vault Tec basterd, my wife pleading with me to just deal with him. Because it was free.

Pffpht nothing is free, "Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.” that is the Law of Equivalent Exchange and I have yet to find a way to circumvent this law, but enough philosophy.

The next thing I remember is hearing my NORAD waring blare on my computer, gathering Cassandra and Shaun. Then booking it towards the vault. the air was thick with fear. There was air raid sirens blaring and vertibirds mobilizing.

If I wasn't in such a panic I would have recognise the first warning something was off. It was the Vault Tec rep having been denied at the gate. The second warning was when we were granted access to the vault even though we finished the paperwork not 30 minutes before. Gods hindsight is 20/20 and a bitch.

I felt it before it went off somehow, all the thing Cassandra and I feared most. The reason I joined the rangers and went to war, was to help prevent what we saw. The reason Cassandra went to law school and put up with those stuff shirts that made up the law community, was to prevent what we saw. All the hardships, late nights, ptsd fueled nightmares, our hopes dreams, and all the hours put to fight the injustice we fought against. All of that time and effort, went up in the ash and dust fueled, mushroom shaped cloud.

I still see it when I close my eyes. Still hear the screams.

Anyway I instinctively grab Cassandra hold her against me as we ducked down against the blast wind as we were lowered into the vault. We hit the bottom and all I can think is how much time we wasted to prevent the unpreventable.

The next hour was a blur again and the next thing I can remember is Cassandra handing me Shaun so she could change into her vault suit. I remember looking into his blue eyes and holding close. Silently promising him the best I could in this fucked up world. Then I looked at my Cassandra, my rock, my harbor in the storm. I looked into the stormy steel eyes and kissed her for all I worth. Hoping my unsaid message of love and devotion was noticed.

Then of course we were interrupted by some Vault Tec asshat in a lab coat telling us it's time to enter our individual decontamination chamber. Hince the third waring something was wrong.

Now thanks to my years in the Rangers I have seen a lot of things. New tech and research of Big MT things but this was no decontamination chamber I have ever seen. In fact it looked more like a sarcophagus pod than a decontamination chamber.

Of course my fears of the future and my small family standing in front of me (and my instincts of finding a safe and secure space for us) distracted my “IT'S A TRAP” instincts. Well that and the armed Vault Tec security officer standing behind the asshat in the lab coat.

We then of course follow instructions and get in to the sarcophagus of decontamination. Luckily Cassandra Shaun and I were able to get pods across from one another and see each other from across the hall via view ports. We hear the computer voice say  “Decontamination start in 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1..” as it hit one Cassandra and I reached for each other then the blackness took me.

The next thing I remember is hearing voices as I was coughing up liquid. Then I see these science types in light blue radiation gear with what looked like Leonardo Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man as a symbol over their right breast, and a man that was definitely a mercenary.

They stop in front of Cassandra's pod, gods knows I tried to get out but I was weak. The merc took a fighting stance pointed his (I'm guessing .44) revolver at Cassandra's view port and nods to the DaVinci wannabe. They activated her pod and as it open I can hear Shaun's cry's. Of course I'm shouting and pounding on my viewport, trying to get people's attention to no avail.

Then the gun shot (definitely .44), and all I can see is Cassandra's shocked face. Then I hear this ungodly roar (I guess it was me by the way that merc and that DaVinci wannabe looked at me) and that fucking merc smiled at me. and I swear to all that is holy, I will find him and wipe that smile off his face with his own gun.

Then blackness again.

I don't know how long I was out but the next thing I hear is a kalaxian blaring over and over again. I shifted and cracked one of my eyes open to immediately shut it again as the low light seared through my brain. Igniting a headache that has yet to leave me. Then all that has happened to this point, slams through my brain. Panicking I look up to my wife's pod to find it empty!

As I slowly get up, ignoring the pain as my muscles scream for me to lay down again, and stumble to the empty open pod. As I reached the pod I fall to my knees, I rub my eyes a couple times in disbelief. Then all I see from my position is a small but dried blood smear and the bloody bullet lodged in the upper corner of the interior pod. I grabbed a flat head screwdriver form the nearby tool box and proceeded to attempt to dialogue the bullet. I can't tell you why it was important but it was.

After sometime I finally work the damn thing out and as it popped out from its position I missed the catch and it bounced to the floor. Wanting that bullet I went after it. Fate must have been with me because it landed next to a blood spot and the broken chain of Cassandra's pendant necklace that she inherited from her mom. As I pick up the pendent I realised that Cassandra rarely took it off and was often a favorite chew toy for Shaun.

The pendet Itself was shaped in the form of a mother (tigers eye) cradling a newborn (lapis lazuli). Behind it was my dented dog tags and behind those Cassandra's wedding band and engagement ring. Unfortunately part of the mother was broken as well my tags were bent  from what looked like a bullet going through or at least ricocheted off them.

Hope then. Not much but enough to move forward.

I look around and see the vault in disrepair as well as the other pods. I get up stretching my muscles and walk to the next pod to the right of mine. The viewport was fogged up so I pull the release switch and the body of ole Bob fell out. He was dead from the looks of it (and no pulse I checked). He seemed to be dead for a while. Then the next pod down (left of mine) to his wife, same condition. So was the next and the next one after that. All dead. Then I see a computer at the beginning of the hall.

I turn on the monitor to see the screen blinking in time with the klaxon, saying cryo Lab 3 critical malfunction. I acknowledge the waring and the klaxon mercifully stop blaring. I continue to read the warning displayed on the screen and discovered that all residents of the pods pronounced were dead. With the exception of my pod and Cassandra's pod. However nothing was timed stamped or dated even.

Diary, Journal, log thingy, or hypothetical reader. I'm going to say right now, I been alone for a long time even during my military service but before I met Cassandra I could handle that feeling and let me try to describe that feeling.

It's like your hollow inside and nothing you do matters. You go through the motions of life, do what's expected of you, try not to make a fuss. Be that man your father wanted, be a pawn in his games. That pawn for the government. Of course I had ambition but it had nowhere to go and it kinda peters out. I joined the military to get away from my father in Texas. Went north to get away from that toxic family but it followed me here and everywhere I went. I was looking to die at the start of Anchorage.

Of course I wasn't wanting to go alone so decided to take as many of those invading Chinese bastards with me. But somehow I lived through that campaign. I was in Washington DC receiving my medals when I met Cassandra and that's the day I finally knew how to live, I wasn't alone anymore.

However in that moment after reading how Everyone in that bay was dead. That lonely feeling hit me full force and truthfully I don't know how I handled the loneliness before. Because for the first time in 10 years I remember what it felt like. I don't know how long I stood there looking at nothing but eventually I moved. Looking at the ground I saw more blood pointing out a side door.

Following the trail, it lead me to a side office that looked like a tornado ransack the place. If I had to guess it was my wifes doing. Because in all the mess was a bloody discarded vault suit, empty packaging of a new suit and the remnants of a first aid kit. I also noticed blood leading in but not out.

Good signs. Like Cassandra's uncle Nick always said, “If there ain't no body, then there ain't nobody dead.”

I proceed through the vault to see if there was any supplies missed, and proceeded after hopefully after Cassandra. As I continued through the vault I saw the evidence of Cassandra throughout the place. Bodies of well squished Radroaches, (which made tracking her easier) messy mess hall (phtb) and other signs of life. Eventually I proceeded to the overseer’s office ransacking what supplies I could along the way. At the overseer's office is where I found my first weapon and information about the vault.

Yeah I remember that dash of experimentation that I told you of for the making of a time traveler? Well it turns out vault-tec was doing social experimentation on us for the long-term effects of cryogenically freezing the human body.

Bastards

At the overseer got what was coming It seems that the security crew pulled a coup de gras after rations was getting low to leave the vault. I can summarize this because I'm standing over the bastards bullet-riddled skeletal remains and by the entries of his computer. Not even sorry

I then proceeded to the access tunnel that the overseer had and came into the supply room where I was able to find a Pip-Boy brand spanking new in the box. After starting it up and getting it tuned to my body I proceeded to the vault door into the entrance of this gods-forsaken tomb.

I was able to reach to the top of the Vault and finally see the destruction of those idiots. If my other description of how fucked our world is, see my earlier description of the world. I will say this however nature is slowly reclaiming what is hers I have no doubt that you'll be able to do it in the next couple thousand years or so. Because life marches on with or without humans.

However there is the problem of me losing the trail of my wife at the top of the vault. So naturally I thought she would head down to the house that we wants to live in that is now a ruin. Funny enough I come across our old robot codsworth still trying to do his programmed duties.so after a not so heartwarming reunion, I found out that Codsworth has not seen my wife and we sweep the neighborhood, looking for supplies and clues of Cassandra or of Shaun's kidnappers, until the sun was on the horizon.

I need to apologize to Codsworth, I don't think he appreciated my smartassery. Though Codsworth did say there was a rainstorm not to long ago but that makes tracking Cassandra that more difficult. However not impossible.

I pray that the gods are still with me on this journey. Lord Hades take the dead into your realm and give them proper rest. Also if you could thank Bob for me, his fallout shelter was still intact and relatively stocked hope he didn't mind. Lady Diana and Lady Freya guide me into the hunt for my wife and son, keep my shots square and true. Odin help me keep my knowledge and strength in this endeavor. Lady Athena help me keep my strategy sound and wit about me. And to Jesus grant mercy to those who stand against me for I will have none to give.

This is Hawk signing off

End entry Oct 24 2287 0107

(quote from Fullmetal Alchemist and Band of Brothers)

[momomomma2]

a/b/o Prompt: "I can't be with a beta, I'm sorry" Omega!Reyes to Beta!Scott (but I have a weird headcanon that SAM can switch Scott's a/b/o profile)

A/B/O Dialogue Prompts (Currently Closed)

“Lots of secrecy here, Reyes,” Scott teases with only mild concern, sinking into the bed and watching his lover pace a hole in the floor of his quarters. “Is something wrong?”

“I…” Reyes stops, not quite in front of him, running frustrated hands through his hair. “I went through my heat last week, the first out of cryo. It takes...a bit to kick in, I’m told.”

“Holy shit,” Scott breathes, shoving himself up and crossing to place a gentle hand on a stiffened shoulder. “Why didn’t you--I could’ve rushed there! I should have been with you! Are you okay? Do I need to call Lexi?”

“No--Scott, I…” Reyes turns then, pain shadowing his bright eyes, and slowly takes Scott’s hand from his shoulder, linking their fingers together. “I am...fine. But I had forgotten--the sickness that heat truly is. It strips you of your mind, breaks you down until you can think of little but breeding. It is a disgustingly base illness and I...given your designation…”

“What...are you trying…Reyes, is this some sort of breakup speech?” Scott asks incredulously, before his mouth falls slack when Reyes refuses to meet his gaze. “Holy shit, it is! Reyes--I mean, if it’s what you want, I won’t--but why?”

“Because nothing worked!” Reyes practically snarls, keeping a firm--almost bone breakingly tight--grip on Scott’s fingers, his free hand coming up to cup over the hold. “No Alpha pheromones, no amount of toys--nothing! I was a desperate individual near the end, breaking things and screaming, uncontrollable. If you were there...I cannot say I would not have...hurt you in some way. With words or fists.”

He grows quiet then, thumb rubbing slow across Scott’s knuckles, and doesn’t meet his gaze when he speaks once more.

“Scott, I cannot...I can’t be with a Beta. I’m sorry. If I were to ever hurt you...I could not forgive myself.”

It’s an odd feeling, when the ground disappears beneath steadily planted feet. A bit like being back on Habitat 7, the very terrafirma crumbling away until Scott feels like he’s falling even when he’s standing. Scott opens his mouth but closes it instantly when something grows thick in his throat, blinking back tears, face growing hot in a rush. He clings to Reyes’ hand because what else is there to do?

“Mr. Vidal,” both of them jolt at the sudden voice, heads whipping over to the SAM node on the desk. “While your fears show a level of concern for Scott’s health that I appreciate, your worries are unfounded. My unique relationship with Scott allows me to...manipulate his designation. Doing so during your heats would allow him to satiate you in ways Omega’s require.”

“Seriously?” Scott asks, at the same time Reyes utters a quiet and amazed, “Truly? Why?”

They glance at one another, shock in both their expressions, before looking as one at SAM once more.

“You make Scott happy,” SAM answers bluntly, bringing a flush back to Scott’s cheeks. “Happiness is a emotion unlike many others. His continued happiness is becoming important to me.”

Scott holds tight when Reyes steps into his body, arms wrapping around his lover’s shaking form, pressing a quick kiss to his temple. He spares SAM a kind gaze, words failing once more, the possibilities spiraling through his head taking on a much more optimistic tone than moments before.

He’ll find a way to thank the AI some day. In whatever way he can. A gift like this has no equivalent, no meaningful trade that can equal what SAM has offered with little fanfare. But he’ll find one. SAM deserves the world, for he’s given just that to Scott; in the form of one slightly shaking smuggler still cuddled close to his heart.