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internalsealpanic · 4 years

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Fabulous Friday Evenings

Summary: You were having a really bad day. Conner decides to help cheer you up and make sure your drunk ass doesn’t face plant on the side walk.

masterlist

word count: 2,652

a/n: Special thanks to @anothertimdrakestan for helping with the ending and helping with editing! Love you, Elle!

warnings: alcohol and swearing and author does not know how alcohol works. No one is under the drinking age. This may benefit from more editing.

"Mosht people are jusht the careful scaffolding of complexshesh," you slurred, your face red, head half buried in your arms, and golden ear cuffs winking under the dim bar lights.

"You somehow still sound like a fucking nerd even you're when drunk," Conner laughed throwing his head back, handsome face stretched with a cheeky smile. "You look like a mess," he said softly, reaching out for your cheek.

"Fuhk you! Not eberyone can be born too pretty for their own guhd- how did yah evehn know I was here? It was Tim wasn't it! "

"Good guess buuuut it was actually Bart" Conner explained casually taking a seat next to you as you lifted your head momentarily before plopping it back down to stare at the amber gloss of the drink. The light from the ceiling seemed to dance so elegantly in your eyes even as you wrinkled your brows. "That rat," you cursed miserably into your arm.

Across from you, a pretty brunette shot you two a wink and without looking you could tell Conner flirted in kind. Normally, you'd have the audacity to steal the girl's attention away before Conner could even make a proper move but tonight you were in absolutely no mood to be charming. In fact, you were sloshed. You didn't know whether it was the fourth or fifth drink that did it but there you were sitting next to one of the most attractive people he knew with your makeup smeared and eyes still swollen and puffy. You kind of just want a portal to open up and swallow you.

The brunette made a motion to her friends which indicated that she was gonna try her luck and you wished her the best of luck. You bit your soft lips before pressing them into a pout. It took everything in Conner not to kiss you on the spot. Be the responsible one they said. It would be fun, they said.

"We should go. You're-"

"Have fun," you said, patting him on the shoulder, cutting him off curtly; placing some cash on the bar before leaving. The buxom brunette approached Conner placing a hand on the shoulder you’d just touched moments before. He didn’t seem to notice her, his mind still lingering on the warmth of your hand. Before she can say anything, he pivots and runs towards you .

The casual slump in your shoulders in place of your usual elegance was a pretty good indication that you would probably fall in a gutter before you got home. Conner highly doubted you could see straight.

"I can’t believe Roz let you get this sloshed without checking on you," He joked bringing one of your arms over his shoulder and slinging his own arm around you for balance. You walked like a newborn horse. It was incredibly embarrassing and you wanted to die. Conner, on the other hand, just found it incredibly hilarious.

"She's out getting into her own brand of sloshed at a bachelorette party,"

"Huh. Didn't know she was the wedding type. Thought she hated going to those,"

"She's the stripper," You deadpanned, sounding abnormally sober. With that Conner let out a genuinely hearty laugh. You would trade all the martinis, dackories, and margaritas in the world just to get drunk on that laugh.

"That reminds me," Conner drawled, adjusting his hold feeling just how shaky you were from the late October Metropolis weather pressing you closer to his warm body. You kind of wanted to melt into his side but you had too much pride. "Bart never said why you were out here getting shit faced," You frowned at him but couldn't really muster any sharpness into your expression.

There were lots of reasons to get 'shit faced' even in shiny Metropolis. You twitched your nose and mouth side to side gathering the makings of a sentence. Where do you even start? Your little sister got suspended, your mother (who somehow found out you were in Metropolis) is either demanding money or for you to drop everything to go back home to help around the house (translation: help out with the bills while babysitting your siblings), Bats and some other league members were on your ass for the last mission (probably the only thing on this list you found reasonable), this morning, you got fired from your library job so they could hire Marco's girlfriend (who is in fact a perfectly nice person which means you can't really hate her), or the dozens of little annoyances such as Bart not being able to keep his trap shut.

"This week was just a little much,"

A long moment of silence passes between you. Uncharacteristic for Conner but it was cute that he thought silence would make you fess up.

"You know I could have gone home on my own. That brunette looked like she was up for a good time,"

"Yeah right. Also you're welcome."

"You're right. Thank you for getting blue balled this fine evening to escort me" you didn't want to be prickly but Conner was being too nice and that made your skin crawl. Why couldn’t he be mean to you right now like a normal person?

"First off, she wasn't even my type-" You raised a brow.

"Kon, her tits were the size of Jupiter-"

"Did you really just say 'tits'?"

You threw him a scowl clearly sobering up from irritation.

"Shut up. Point iiiis, you didn't have to-"

"You just said-"

"Oh for the love of- yes, I said tits. Speaking of which you should be staring at some instead of having to lug my sorry ass around on this fabulous Friday evening." Your hand fluttering, gesturing vaguely in the air.

"Eh. There'll be other Fridays" Kon shrugged. Pulling you closer and some selfish part of you felt relieved.

----------

Much to your surprise (you really ought not to be), Roz wasn't home yet which meant you had to dig out the keys from the secret hiding spot- another hassle. You reached out peeling a hilariously well concealed hole in the wall and fished out the set of jingling keys. Conner looked like he was between amusement and bewilderment. Good enough. At least, this stopped Conner's 30 minute TED Talk about the new 70s sitcom he'd found.

You two entered the shoe box apartment clumsily thanks to your disastrous limbs.

You blew out a breath and muttered a thanks as Conner helped you plop onto the couch. Though, it was more like gravity decided to magnetize your body to the couch and Conner just let it happen.

You shut his eyes for a moment wrapping a ragged blanket around you. You made a mental note to raid the thrift store for a new one. Preferably one void of holes.

"So what's up and don't you dare say it was nothing. I've never seen you this hammered before," He said handing you a mug of steaming hot chocolate.

"Does it occur to you that I might get hammered like this often and you might just not see it? Who knows maybe I'm actually a functional alcoholic?"

"Ok, first off, you are barely functional. Second, that might be your weakest deflection yet. Try again,"

"Ok... did it occur-"

"I didn't mean it lite- just tell me what happened. Everyone's worried,"

You stared at the steam rising from the fresh cup of cocoa. It was none of Conner's business. It was no one’s business. Your friends were too goddamn nice. Blowing out another breath, you said "You might wanna sit down too,"

Conner takes his own mug of hot cocoa and sits next to you because for some reason eye contact made you a better liar and Conner for all his dumb decisions wasn't gonna let you off the hook that easily. You shifted uncomfortably and muttered about either Cassie or Roz ratting you out. He assumed it was the eye contact thing. Conner felt a little offended. He might not be Tim but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Despite his hurt feelings and bruised ego, he decided to table that and focus on the current issue or, likely, issues.

"Do you want it in alphabetical order?"

"Please tell me you can actually do that," Conner teased with a wide grin. You couldn’t fight off a smile forming on your face. "Sadly, I am not Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. My brain cells work like a normal person's,"

"Didn't you die?"

"Death only fixes stupid when you stay dead. You've seen Red Hood and whichever other Ex-Robin has been to the pearly gates,"

"You say that as if Jason wouldn't tell the big man to fuck off,"

You blinked and turned your head up to the ceiling. "Ok that's true," You conceded, your mouth twitching rapidly from side to side making you look like an exasperated rabbit. Cute.

"So what's up?"

All the good mood from the past few minutes dissipated in an instant. You looked down solemnly at the still steaming mug. You were silent for what felt like an eternity.

"It's family- Immediate. And the source of all evil-"

"Lex Corp?"

You snorted a shy tired smile cracked across your face. You shook your head. Those little gestures just make Conner feel a little warmer. You, on the other hand, cursed at how easily Conner could make you laugh. You were supposed to be sad damn it.

"Money," Conner knew immediate family was always a sore spot for you. No one knew the specifics except Roz but that was inevitable when you're cousins. Money was also a sore spot and based on your near dead tone. You’ve either lost a lot of it or you’re in a tight spot but not ready to elaborate.

"Wanna try buying a lottery ticket?"

"What?"

"Who knows you might get lucky?"

"You could have gotten lucky you if you-"

"Are you seriously gonna keep bringing that up?"

"Yes, most likely. Depends,"

"On what?!"

"On whether I can think of something funnier to give you shit about or if you can convince me-whatever the fuck you're thinking of doing stop!"Conner's cheeky grin did not disappear nor did the faint flush on your cheeks.

"I wasn't thinking of anything, you sick pervert" he laughed. You really should have been exasperated with Conner. You tried damn it. You looked at him skeptically before violently letting his head rest on Conner’s shoulder causing the other boy to fall over.

"Aaaaaaawwwww babe , if you wanted to cuddle you could have just said so,"

You wanted to. In fact, both of you wanted to. But unfortunately neither of you were martian and neither of you was willing to say jack. You closed your eyes trying to pretend Conner wasn't a little shit. Conner radiated too much smug for that though.

"Shut up," You mumbled into Conner's shoulder already feeling sleep pull him under. You clung to him. Maybe just for tonight you can indulge in this. Just for a little while you can cling to Conner's warmth. Maybe in the morning your head will ache too much to remember this. Waking up alone wouldn't be too painful then. Hopefully.

---------------

You woke up feeling like a troop of Can Caning hippos decided to host a live performance all over your head. You sighed remembering that you had in fact run out of Aspirin just days before so you decided on just lying there and praying that Roz also needed Aspirin and had more energy to run to the store.

You settled in nuzzling in to the warm-

Wait. It was October.

Nothing in the apartment should be warm.

NOTHING.

Then, you heard it. A LOUD snore. It honestly sounded more like the roar of an engine than anything. Everything else followed. The slow rising and falling of the chest beneath you, the press of stubble against your forehead, and the strong arms loosely wrapped around you.

Yeah. You died again. Yeah. You finally went to heaven. Yup. You were ok with that. You were definitely 100% A Ok with this if this was heaven. Being held tenderly by the guy you liked while you got a good night’s sleep was definitely heaven. God, you were such a sap.

How the hell you missed all of that baffled you.

Oh wait. Dancing hippos. Fuck.

Your head felt like it was threatening to crack open but somehow you honestly could not mind even if you tried. You were laying on top of a hot (literally and metaphorically) guy mutually cuddling. You nuzzled into the junction between Conner’s neck and shoulder in an attempt to steal more warmth. Sure, you were probably gonna go deaf from the snoring. Sure, you were definitely irritated by the stubble pressed against your face. And sure, you would probably die of embarrassment once Conner woke up. You could worry about all that later. All you could think about was how nicely your arms fit around Conner’s neck and how Conner’s arms wrap around you a little tighter in return.

Click.

You could hear the distinct sound of your own camera shutter. Each sound chipped away at your peace of mind. You lifted your head only to see Roz holding your camera.

TAKING PICTURES.

Your cousin was nothing if not a petty opportunist.

“I would tell you to get a room buuuut the only bedroom iiiiis preeeeeeetty occupied,” Roz drawled smugly way too pleased with herself. You opened his mouth to ask but you’d already made the mistake of walking in on Roz and a guest once and you were pretty sure you needed more therapy for that than you did for your murder. You just sighed as Roz took another picture.

“Come on, (y/n), smile a little,”

“I’m not smiling for your blackmail material,”

Roz gasped trying to sound scandalized. She failed, only sounding amused beyond belief. “It’s only blackmail if you’re ashamed of it. Personally, I think you’re scoring big time,”

“Roz please just fuck off before you wake him up,”

“Too fuckin’ late for that. He’s been awake for awhile,”

You could feel Conner smiling into your hair and his arms wrap around you a little tighter. You tried to straighten up. To tower over him. To look intimidating.

But…. you couldn’t. You were kind of trapped because, yanno, super strength.

You were seething and threw a scowl at Conner who only chuckled at you in response.

“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” You snarled, clearly exasperated and feeling the hippos start their encore performance.

“ Mmmmmm, it depends,” Nope. The hippos did not only come back for an encore. They brought friends. Based on the absolutely smug look on Conner’s face, you were in for an entire parade.

You let out a breath not sure if you wanted to play this game but not really seeing any other options. “On what?“

Conner paused and hummed and hummed and hummed some more as if he was actually thinking but you knew from the crook of his lips that he had this planned out. Maybe not this exact scenario but something close“Go out on a date with me,”

You blinked then rolled your eyes theatrically enough that your head rolled along with it. “And be seen with you in public?” You teased, an almost sheepish smile tugging at your features.

Yeah, Conner wasn’t exactly expecting you to say yes.

“Yeah. Sure. Why not?” You said playing it off as casually as possible but you couldn’t help but mirror the absolutely goofy grin plastered on Conner’s face. His happiness was infectious. You felt weightless. It was probably the fact that you were floating with him but you were pretty sure you were just on cloud nine. You were doomed. Definitely, inevitable, indubitably doomed. Even though everything has been shit up to now. The happiness radiating off of Conner was enough to make everything feel a little better.

Thank you so much for reading!

tag list:

@idkmanicantenglish

@batarella (I thought you might like it?)

#conner kent x reader #conner kent #conner kent imagine #My writing #dc fanfiction #DC comics #kon el x reader #kon el imagine

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bobdylanrevisited · 4 years

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Another Side Of Bob Dylan

Released: 8 August 1964

Rating: 8/10

Recorded in just one drunken night, the album sees Dylan distance himself from the protest scene and socially conscious songs of his previous two records. He did not want to be labelled or put on a pedestal, and even actively rejects these notions on certain songs. His writing really becomes more esoteric on this album, and it’s clear he is now moving in a completely different direction, away from traditional folk music. This would be his last recording with just his guitar, piano, and harmonica for 28 years.

1) All I Really Want To Do - There are two schools of thought on this song. One is that the list of what Bob doesn’t want - ‘I ain’t lookin’ for you to feel like me, see like me or be like me’ - is aimed at his audience, who he felt were looking to him to inform them on politics, rather than thinking for themselves. The other is that the song is about his recent breakup with Suze, and it has been classed as a feminist piece that questions roles within a relationship and between the sexes in general. Whilst I personally lean towards the former explanation, there’s no doubt that this is a fun song, with a country inspired yodelling chorus, and Bob making himself laugh throughout.

2) Black Crow Blues - A classic 12 bar blues arrangement, this is a nice little song which doesn’t really mean much, which is unusual for Dylan. As there isn’t much to dissect, I’ll just say that it’s an enjoyable tune with some nice piano and Bob’s singing is great on the track.

3) Spanish Harlem Incident - Whilst this is a great song that is essentially a straightforward love story, it’s a great example of the advancement of Dylan’s writing. The rhyming patterns and his vocabulary are a major leap forward into a more surreal songwriting phase, but it shows just how much the poetry that Suze had introduced him to was having an effect.

4) Chimes Of Freedom - The only ‘protest’ song on the album, this is a fucking amazing track. Not only is it written like an apocalyptic poem, it’s almost biblical in its imagery and much more complex than anything he had written before it. Listen to any live version from 1964, and you’ll hear Dylan’s intensity as he roars for freedom. This can be seen as a turning point for the songs that he was about to release on his next three (best) albums, and is a masterful example of how he uses language to stir up emotion like no one else can.

5) I Shall Be Free No. 10 - A ‘talkin’ song that harks back to ‘Freewheelin’, this is another surreal, Kerouac-esque piece. The improvised feel of the lyrics unfortunately makes the song hard to connect to, and despite there being a lot of words, few of them mean anything. Whilst the song is somewhat funny, I’m sure it seemed a lot funnier to those in the studio under the influence. This is definitely the weakest song on the album, but that’s not to say its a completely joyless 5 minutes of your life.

6) To Ramona - This is a beautiful waltz, both tender and emotional, it delves into issues of confidence and conformity. Compared to the popular, vacuous love songs of the era, which relied on superficial platitudes, this is a stark look at attraction and relationships which feels eminently personal.

7) Motorpsycho Nitemare - Based on the film ‘Psycho’, this begins as an absurd tale about meeting a farmer and his daughter. However, as the song progresses, the theme shifts to Cold War/Communist paranoia and the power of free speech, which ends up saving the protagonists life. Whilst not strictly a protest song, it does focus on topical social and cultural issues, to humorous effect.

8) My Back Pages - Dylan uses this song to turn his back on his old self, and emerge a new artist. It is a brilliantly brutal rejection of the activism scene he was increasingly heralded as leading, and it even doubts his own former views and his career up until that point. It’s an incredible composition, with more self-awareness and self-analysis than a 23 year old should be capable of, and again proves this album was a stepping stone to a completely different Bob Dylan. The classic line, ‘I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now’, proves that he is striving for the innocence and enjoyment in his career that may have been taken away from him too soon, by those pushing him to be someone he didn’t want to be.

9) I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met) - A song about emotional abandonment, following a passionate night. Whilst the album version is a good song with some great vocals from Bob, the song really came alive on the 1966 electric tour with The Band. That version is incredible, and I actually think Bob should have waited and recorded this song in ‘65/66 with a backing band, as it really suits that style more.

10) Ballad In Plain D - The only song Bob ever apologised for. This is quite a cruel recap of his break up with Suze, and he uses it to publicly air their dirty laundry and insult her sister. It’s obviously a crime of passion, written in an emotional rage, but I agree with Bob that he shouldn’t have released it due to the content. It’s a shame, as the song is very well written and performed.

11) It Ain’t Me Babe - Written originally about Suze, Bob is owning up about not being perfect (perhaps guilt from his Joan Baez affair?), and telling her she deserves better, which is an odd juxtaposition considering the song that proceeds it. However, I think you can also read into the lyrics that it could once again be aimed at his audience, much like the opening track. Whichever it is, this is another song that experiments with language and is, finally, a great closing number.

Verdict: The actual album itself is fairly sloppy; words are forgotten and chords are changed mid-song. However, it has this frenetic energy and urgency that makes you wish you had been in the studio that night, witnessing the transformation of a young, folk icon into a modern day Arthur Rimbaud. Whilst it isn’t as perfect as the previous two albums, it’s an important one in the evolution of Dylan and gave us a number of classic songs. Incredibly, what came next was even further away from the mining town boy playing on MacDougal Street, and was about to challenge and change the musical landscape forever.

#bob dylan #another side of bob dylan

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equalseleventhirds · 5 years

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mmmmm... if I do want to try and start listening to the mechanisms, which album should I start from?

OH A GREAT QUESTION, and one for which there are many answers that many other people have given

whichever album you start from, listen to it all the way through! please! that’s really the only important thing.

for my preference tho…

i PERSONALLY like to start from ‘once upon a time in space’. it has everything: lesbian princesses, war-is-hell, scifi fairy tales. crucially, it establishes the format (space pirates tell you dope fucking stories about other people) and has a neat little bit in the middle that introduces the mechs, tells you a little about who they are and what they do, and lets jonny d’ville go full fucking feral (and tells u that nastya is……… dating the ship.)

i then like to go into ‘tales to be told’ bcos u get some Vital Crew Intros, and after that either ‘tales to be told 2′ or ‘ulysses dies at dawn’ (and then the other right after). then ‘high noon over camelot’ bcos it’s just funnier to me personally if brian gets stuck in a sun right after he plays daedalus. if you don’t ascribe to my rly silly headcanon about that, ttbt2 udad and hnoc can all be listened to in any order.

i like to end on ‘the bifrost incident’ bcos what better way to end a mechanisms run than with an apocalypse? (also bcos the other main albums are narrated by jonny d’ville and told from the perspective of the mechanisms, but tbi is told by someone else and the mechs just fucking Show Up and Bother People, which is a. hilarious and b. rly interesting as a narrative tool after everything else makes them the storytellers)

also their single frankenstein! almost forgot frankenstein, can’t believe i did that. it doesn’t have a Mechanism Crime Interlude so it’s a bit harder to fit into any sort of chronology but i like to listen to it after ttbt2, and feel like it rly works anywhere after ur first mechs album (but before tbi… gotta end on… yog’sothoth). it goes rly fucking hard, but actually all their songs do? all of them. rly hard.

ALSO there are some bits of canon fiction and member bios on their website, and you can find live videos of them on youtube which are a fucking BLAST, including their most recent and final liveshow, ‘death to the mechanisms’, where they all. die. that one was streamed live and unfortunately kinda glitched and is missing some bits, but iirc at the time they said they were gonna put together a full video maybe? if they could pull enough video from their other cameras.

(also i have heard rumors of a marius project coming up…….. pls i crave the Lore…….)

ETA: here is one post Explaining the Mechs and here is another post from the mechs telling u what they each individually are up to now that they’re dead :)

(also edited to be under a read more bcos.......... long.)

#anonymous #long post #that turned into a very long thing!#other ppl have written better & more coherent posts explaining the mechanisms' whole Deal #this was mostly to explain my own listening preferences but it got......... long #btw anon i would ABSOLUTELY recommend watching the youtube videos #they are an EXPERIENCE and also that's the only way u can hear 'drunk space pirate' which FUCKS HARD

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lailannajacobs · 5 years

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On the Wing

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Prompt: You saw nothing, are we clear?

Warnings: mostly fluff and a tiny bit of violence

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This little fic is curtesy of @teamcap4bucky! Congrats again for 2k love, you deserve it and so much more!!! <3 Decided it was time to get back to a little bit of Bucky :) Been working on this amid all the craziness and chaos, hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think, I always love feedback or just general impressions!! <3

You blew a stray strand of hair from your face and sheathed your knives. After the first guard had managed to set off the alarm, you had lost the element of surprise. A gun would be more useful now. It didn’t matter that Nat had cut the alarm almost immediately, the Hydra agents all knew you had arrived.

You wiped the sweat from your brow with your bicep. “I thought you said it was going to be an easy one today.”

Bucky tilted his head, his loose hair tumbling to the side. You had offered to braid it back before missions, but apparently it wasn’t his thing. Though it hadn’t stopped your from mentioning it before every mission.

“Getting out of shape doll?”

You shook your head, a smile making its way to your lips, “I’m fine old man. But next time don’t oversell.”

He smirked.

Steve’s voice crackled through the coms, “If you two are done wasting time, we need to find that key.”

“All business.” You chuckled.

Bucky pursed his lips, attempting to wipe the smirk from his face. “Always business.”

“Get that key.” Cap ordered, trying his hardest to sound stern.

“Firecracker,” Bucky began, using your unfortunate alias, “Are you taking the left or the the right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Whichever. Right is fine.”

“Whoever gets the key wins.”

“Loser buys first round.”

“Always.” He grinned.

“Get ready to pay up.” You called over your shoulder, heading down the hallway.

Your steps were quick but even, steady after a lifetime of training. You may not have had any superhuman ability, but you were sure as hell going to win this bet.

Six Months Ago

The pub was busy, even for a Friday night. No one had batted an eye at the super soldiers and their teammates when you had walked in. You were all regulars, especially after a particularly successful mission, and all the other regular customers had gotten used to the team’s loud and chaotic presence.

“First round is on me.” You shouted over the noise, ordering drinks for everyone.

“And why would that be?” Bucky smirked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Because,” You muttered "You were the better shot.”

“What? I didn’t quite catch that doll.”

You shook your head, “I’m not repeating it.” You handed him his beer, “just take your free booze.”

He laughed, a sound that always caught your attention. You dropped your gaze and found something else to turn your attention too. Since meeting the soldier you had found yourself getting more and more attached to him. Every mission had you appreciating his kind and soft soul even more, and every time you had each other’s backs only made you appreciate your friendship even more. The only problem was that lately you were beginning to realize that maybe you wanted more with him.

It didn’t make sense to want more though. Any mission could be your last and you didn’t need to add any distractions for either of you. The field was a dangerous enough place as it was. And anyways, that was all based on the assumption that he might even feel the same way.

You tried your best to bury the feelings deep down in a place no-one could find them - not even yourself. Things were good now, even if you had just lost a bet.

“You know, I think that makes the score…” Bucky pretended to think about it for a moment, “four to two?”

“No” you grumbled. “That makes it five to two.”

“True. I’m so glad you corrected me.”

You shoved him playfully. “You’re such a sore winner.”

“All you have to do is catch up doll.” He grinned.

“I’d do that in a heartbeat if I wasn’t at such a disadvantage.” You pointed out.

“Am I really that distracting that you can’t focus when I’m around?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I’m not sure that I do.”

You burst out laughing, “What’s with you today?”

“What? I’m always in a good mood.”

“Sure” you snorted.

He raised a brow. “You don’t believe me?”

“I have evidence against it.”

“Oh yeah?” he took a step closer, “Like what?”

“Um, I don’t know, I seem to remember you letting out a string of curse words about five hours ago.”

He smirked, “Okay then. Correction, I’m always in a good mood when you’re around.”

You swallowed. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“I can prove it if you’d like.” He whispered.

Your gaze immediately dropped to his lips, and when you found his seastorm eyes looking into yours with something you couldn’t name, your heart began to race.

“I’m so glad you two keep doing these bets.” Sam said, clapping the two of you on the shoulder. “Saves me a bunch on beer.”

He reached between the two of you, handed the bartender a bill and grabbed his beer. You took an unnecessarily large step back, remembering your earlier declaration. Clearly you still hadn’t pushed your feelings far enough down. Although…maybe these feelings weren’t as one sided as you had first thought.

You shot Bucky a tight lipped smile and made your way over to where Nat and Steve were. The right move was to walk away, regardless of the feelings involved. It would be better for everyone in the long run.

Just as you approached, a young college student, probably here with a fake ID, walked up.

“Hi, uh, Captain America. I was uh, wondering if I could get a picture? My girlfriend would kill me if I didn’t.”

Cap smiled. “Sure kid.”

When the student was satisfied and gone, you sighed. “I’m a little jealous.”

“Of that?” Steve asked incredulously.

You shook your head. “No, not that. The fact that you guys all have aliases. I mean at least Maria gets to keep her name, all I’ve got is a number.”

Nat laughed, “And Six Three Two outs you perfectly.”

“You have to earn an alias.” Cap teased.

“Sure, and how do I earn a super secret serum?”

“I’d refer you to the doctor, if he was still around.”

“Steve,” Bucky clapped an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Age has given you a morbid sense of humour.”

You tried not to look at Bucky for too long, no matter how captivating that grin was.

“You should know old man.” Steve grinned.

“I am only a year older than you dork.”

“And it shows.”

Nat shook her head, a grin on her lips, “You’re both really old. We get it.”

“Can you believe, Winter Soldier, that 632 was complaining about not having an alias? Said being a number was boring.” Steve shot you a teasing look.

“The audacity. I can’t believe it. Black Widow what do you think?”

“Ridiculous,” she winked. “I think we should tell Falcon.”

“You guys are all idiots.” You laughed, stopping Steve before he could call Sam over.

“Trust me,” Bucky grabbed all of your attention with those two little words, “When you do something really stupid, that’s when we’ll give you your alias.”

You shook your head. You couldn’t imagine they’d have to wait long to see you do something ridiculous.

You had no idea what this key looked like or how you’d find it. It was supposed to look like a USB key but for all you knew, it could be some old timey key that unlocked a door with actual files inside. The hallway was weirdly empty, its walls cold and clinical, and void of any adjacent rooms. Maybe if you had picked the right you would have had a better chance at winning the bet. At least Steve hadn’t called you back yet, telling you that Bucky had already found it. You still had some time to win.

The sound of fighting around the corner had you raising your gun, ready for anything that came at you. Creeping along the wall, you paused at the edge and peered around the corner. A body stumbled back and silver glinted in the dim light. You shook your head. As much as you loved the look of his arm, you couldn’t remember how many times you had told him to cover up the metal so that it wouldn’t give him away. The only benefit of having it exposed that was it made it that much easier to spot him.

It seemed Bucky had beat you to the checkpoint but, watching the fight go on, it didn’t bother you too much. It wasn’t like you could help, despite the fact that the enemy had no idea you were there. They were moving too quickly, Bucky’s movements far to quick and efficient for you to get a clear shot.

He blocked a punch before kicking the guard in the chest, sending him staggering back another couple of steps. The man took the distance to pull out a knife and you sighed. He was lucky you all had orders to keep the Hydra agents alive for questioning because he may as well have given Bucky another weapon to kill him with.

You had seen Bucky fight with knives as if they were an extension of his arm and today was no exception. Within seconds he had disarmed the man, flipped the knife into his other hand before driving it into the mans thigh. But before Bucky could knock the enemy agent out, he took a step and the floor slid beneath him.

As he fell to the floor, the man’s eyes grew wide and triumphant. Instinctively, you fired a bullet into his shoulder now that you had a clear shot. You didn’t know what had just happened but it didn’t matter as long as Bucky was still alive. You would have disobeyed orders without a second thought if it meant keeping him safe.

Down on the ground the guard began foaming at the mouth and you swore. This was supposed to be an easy mission. What the hell was going on?

You looked down at Bucky, still sprawled on the floor, pure shock written all over his face. “You’re welcome. What happened to you?” Your heart still raced but seeing him unscathed calmed it, if only slightly.

Looking around, you realized something that made a grin spread across your lips. “Wait a second. Did you…slip?”

The longer you thought about it, the funnier it became, until you were laughing out loud, unable to stop, tears practically leaking out the corners of your eyes.

He pushed up quickly and dusted himself off. “You saw nothing. Are we clear?”

“Like hell I didn’t Sergeant.” You could barely get the words out between fits of laughter. “I think this may be the greatest thing to have happened this month.”

His deadpan expression did nothing to hide the amusement you knew lurked beneath the surface, “Are you sure about that Firecracker?”

You narrowed your eyes and shook your head, still bubbling with laughter. “What did you even slip on?”

His confused look was enough to know that it must have come out of nowhere.

Looking around, you found a small black rectangle on the floor a couple feet away and bent over to pick it up, the metal warm on your fingers.

You smiled. “I think we found the man with the key. Maybe he should have put it in a safer pocket.” A very important thought dawned on you. “Wait! This makes us even now.”

He wrapped his hand around yours, holding the key, “Technically I found it doll.”

“Technically you slipped, then I saved your ass and then I found the key.”

“You wouldn’t have found it if I hadn’t slipped.” He pointed out.

“That’s true. I wouldn’t have found it because I wouldn’t have slipped.” You tried to pull away but he held on. “And anyways, I didn’t see anything remember? So if there was nothing to see here, it means that I found the key just lying there right?”

He tugged on your hand, and you stepped closer to him. “And what if we call it a tie?”

You snatched your hand back, heart racing for a completely different reason now, and slipped the key into a secure pocket as you walked off.

“Drinks are on you tonight old man.” You called over your shoulder, unable to wipe the stupid grin off your face.

#teamcap4bucky #teamcap4bucky2k #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #fan fiction #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #MCU fic

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gloomiedyke · 6 years

Text

Of Course

On Ao3 Here

Summary: Virgil’s only ever really had one answer when it came to the others.

Pairings: LAMP/CALM, either romantic or platonic, whichever you prefer

Word Count: 2,306

Warnings: None, I don’t think. Fluff.

Virgil lived in grey.

He didn’t mean to sound so dramatic or emo about it (despite what Creativity might say). It wasn’t some huge, momentous statement or anything. It was just a fact of his life- if he could really even be called “living”, being a part of another person.

Whatever, the point was: Virgil not-quite-lived in grey. It was just how it was- anxiety was neutral, capable of being equally good or bad, helpful or hindering, life-saving or life-ruining. It all depended on the person, and their mind, and their life. How they were coded to be, and how they chose to be.

Thomas was a good person. He was kind, positive, sensitive, understanding. But at his core, Thomas was emotional, really emotional. And emotion could swing either way, especially when it was strong. So Virgil lived in greys, sometimes swinging hard enough to hit ‘bad’ or ‘good’, mostly just providing a subtle guidance and only kicking in with any strength during emergencies.

Until, that is, Thomas hit puberty.

Fucking thanks, hormones.

By the time things had calmed down the other Sides were set in their opinions of him. (And, unfortunately, Thomas himself had become aware of him, and Virgil didn’t know how to feel about that). Of course Morality was as kind as ever, but Virgil knew he made the mock father figure just a little too uncomfortable. Logic was mostly unbiased, so it was possible he was just indifferent, which Virgil didn’t mind all that much, even if he got so painfully lonely sometimes. And Princey… well. The Prince had never much liked Anxiety; when they were young he’d felt that Virgil’s attempts to keep Thomas from death got in the way of his dream chasing. As they got older, and Virgil’s fears and control over Thomas grew, Roman only believed it all the more.

Virgil figured that was just the way things were. They’d never been all that close, and he didn’t need to be liked (Thomas’ fear of rejection gave away the lie here, but he didn’t need to acknowledge that). It didn’t matter, and it wouldn’t change, so he might as well get used to it.

He hadn’t expected to care about them quite so much, though.

Anxiety had always cared about the others, of course- he was both the survival instinct and the protective instinct, after all. But then Thomas started making the videos, and they were all forced to spend time together and actually talk to each other, beyond just insults (though there were a lot of those, too). And, more quickly than he’d thought, he’d gotten to know the others on a more personal level.

Patton was as loving as Virgil had always thought- not to mention funnier. Logan was smart, full of a wonder over new things, and so much kinder than he realized. And Roman…

Roman was everything Anxiety wasn’t.

Brave. Strong. Charming. The Prince never let anything as trivial as anxiety stop him, never let his own fears get in the way of creation. But, beyond even that-

Roman had absolutely no trouble talking to the others, being friends with them. He didn’t stutter, didn’t avoid eye contact, didn’t shake when faced with something as utterly stupid as conversation. Roman didn’t feel the need to hide to avoid a panic attack. He could be better, be good enough and bright enough, and Virgil couldn’t help but resent him for that.

And even if they couldn’t love him, he couldn’t help but-

“Hiya, kiddo!” Morality chirped at him from in front of the oven, glasses sitting crooked above a blinding smile.

Virgil nodded slightly, sliding past him towards the coffee pot. “Hey, Mo.”

“I was just making some cookies! I know it’s a little late, but,” Patton winked at him, leaning close in a cartoonishly conspiring way, “I think we deserve to live a little dangerous, huh?”

He shrugged in response, but he couldn’t help a small smile. The “Dad” Side tended to do that to people. Patton had to be where all that goodness Thomas exuded came from, Anxiety was sure. His levels of sweetness could cause cavities, and Virgil was damn sure it didn’t come from him.

When he turned back around, coffee in hand, he paused. The other Side was standing, still, in the middle of the kitchen, eyes on the oven. This in and of itself was not unusual; Patton always got excited when baking, and liked to watch the cookies turn golden as they found their shape. But something was different, here. There was no smile, no giddy gleam in his hazel eyes, no barely suppressed bouncing or cheerful humming. Patton didn’t even seem to be seeing the oven, eyes gone distant and uncharacteristically quiet. Virgil had never seen him so… muted.

“... Hey.”

The other jerked slightly at Virgil’s rasp, before smiling big at him. “Yeah, kiddo? Did you need something? Are you okay?”

“Uh, I’m good. Are… you… ?” Virgil asked, hesitant. He wasn’t any good at this, at talking to people. Sure, he could trade quips with Princey, and listen to Logic ramble every once in a while, but when it came to actual conversation he just got too nervous too quickly.

“I’m great! With cookies on the way, how could anyone feel crummy?”

Virgil snorted at the pun, biting down on his smile. “Nice.”

Patton’s grin turned more genuine (though it was hard to tell, which scared him a little- Patton shouldn’t be this good at pretending, at hiding whatever he was hiding. It was Patton).

“Wanna hear some more cookie jokes? Some of ‘em are pretty sweet!”

Morality giggled at his own pun, hands clasping together and joy melting into something almost entirely real.

And, really, what could Virgil say, in the face of that?

On a quiet sigh of relief, he murmured, “Of course.”

Patton didn’t seem to question how out of character he was acting, thankfully.

Virgil winced at each clack. He never would have said anyone could type passive aggressively, but Logic had apparently figured it out. The self-proclaimed “unbiased” Side was working determinedly on his laptop, which he’d set up at the breakfast bar that morning and seemingly hadn’t moved from since.

Anxiety considered him quietly from the table, watching sidelong without turning his face from his phone. Logan’s stiff, tense shoulders and slightly hunched posture practically radiated his irritation, and each just-slightly-too-forceful clack on the keyboard only seemed to wind him even tighter.

Without a word, Virgil calmly stood and moved to the stove. Logic twitched, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him at all, until the darker trait set a gently steaming cup of green tea at his side.

This seemed to finally jerk the overworked Side’s attention from whatever document he was working on- wide eyes, the exact same shade as Thomas’ because Logan was Logic and thus unchanged by fancies of the mindspace, stared blankly at Anxiety for a moment before roving slowly to the cup by his elbow.

Virgil turned away without waiting for a response, palms gone clammy at his own ridiculous actions (why would you do that you probably made it wrong he probably thinks you’re weird you should just mind your own business fuck) and wanting nothing more than to hide in his room for a while.

“Thank you, Anxiety.”

So softly he doubted the other could hear, and without turning back: “Of course.”

When Roman found him in the living room, one of the rare times Anxiety was hanging out in there (sometime he just needed to get out of his room, and the voices it loosed on him all night), he knew it was going to be one of those days. One of those conversations.

Virgil tensed slightly, and when Roman snapped “Jason Toddler” In greeting, he was sure. The darker Side steeled himself.

“‘Sup, Princey. What’s with the hair, get in a fight with your pillow this morning?”

Just like he’d expected, Roman turned sharply on Virgil, who stood automatically, hiding his shaking hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Really, Obnoxious Fumes? ‘Cause I don’t think anyone who looks like they fell out of a cybergoth’s fantasy has the right - or fashion sense enough - to be making comments.” The Prince snapped, face darker than Virgil’s comment had warranted, and the embodiment of anxiety braced himself. He knew Roman needed this, needed to lash out somehow, and that it couldn’t be at Patton, who'd be heartbroken, or Logan who’d take it too personally.

Virgil had always made a good scapegoat.

It was another ten minutes of increasingly cutting quips before they got loud enough that Logan heard them and harsh enough that Patton felt them through Thomas.

“Stop!” Their heart yelled, silencing both of them (though anxiety had calmed as soon as the other entered the room- he couldn’t handle the thought of catching Patton in the cross-fire).

Roman finally stepped away, and already he could see something loosened in the others frame, as strange as it seemed. Patton glared them down, and Logan shot them a disapproving glance before returning to his room to read or finish whatever they’d distracted him from.

“Thanks for the pointless argument,” Roman snarled, heavy with sarcasm and laced with a hidden, desperate kind of honesty.

“Of course, Princey. Any time.”

Virgil never thought himself capable of leaving them, leaving Thomas, but he’s always been a selfish creature (he’s better off without me they’ll be so much happier what do I even give them what can I offer without hurting them fucking buck up they’ll be happier this way just leave).

Still, he hates himself a little more after, and he’s not sure if it’s for leaving or for waiting so long to do it.

And then they come for him.

They learn his name. (My name is Virgil- there, it’s like a band-aid, just rip it off-)

They don’t leave. He still doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Kiddo?”

Virgil’s gaze flicks up from his phone, instantly aware of how pale and tired Patton looks, freckles stark against his usually pink-flushed cheeks. “Yeah, Pat?”

The other grins at him, still too good at lying for Virgil to be at all comfortable with. “I don’t want to bother you, and it’s nothing at all important really, I just wanted to ask- if you’re not busy, y’know, if you might-”

“What do you need, Patton?” Their heart’s smile falters a little at his quiet rasp, but he tries again.

“Oh, I was just wondering if you’d like to watch some cartoons with your ol’ fun-loving father figure friendo. If you’re not busy.”

And Virgil’s still learning how to let himself be so openly gentle, but Patton’s never been all that hard for him to reach for, and really, what else could he say?

“Of course.”

He glances up at Logan’s arrival, and can’t help a small smile. The other Side carries an Agatha Christie book in one hand, coffee mug in the other, and he actually bumps into the door jam on his way in, eyes glued to the pages.

“Hey, Logan.”

His head jerks up at Virgil’s voice, and he offers a small nod, something warming in his face. Virgil doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that reaction, can’t stop his smile or the shaking in his hands.

“Hello, Virgil. How are you?”

“Good,” he murmurs, ducking slightly to see the cover of Logan’s book as the other sits at the counter beside him. “What’s the latest research topic?”

The Sides eyes light up, and he straightens, hands darting up to gesture as he flies into a ramble about something to do with the stars. Virgil watches quietly, sipping at his coffee, and humming at the right moments to show his attention. Logan has a problem with being heard- he gets defensive if he feels like the person he’s speaking to doesn’t care about what he has to say, and he’ll stop talking altogether.

After an hour or so, Logic’s words peter out, and he adjusts his glasses self-consciously. “Thank you for asking. I… hm, yes, thank you.”

Virgil’s lips quirk at Logan’s awkward cough, and he stands to refill their mugs. “Of course.”

“Hello, Cloud Gloom.” Roman’s grand pronunciation seems strangely subdued, though it isn’t super obvious.

“‘Sup, Roman.” Virgil watches him steadily, still and calm (he’s still getting used to not tensing up when the other walks in). Roman holds up well enough for a few seconds, and then starts to squirm under his gaze.

“So, what are you angsting about in this little corner of the mindscape?”

Virgil raises an eyebrow and casts a pointed look around the common room he’s currently occupying. Roman shifts uncomfortably before throwing his body into motion again, all grand gestures and determination. “Well, no need to be shy, Welcome to the Purple Parade.”

Virgil tilts his head slightly, dropping his gaze back to his phone. “C’mere.”

Roman stutters to a halt. “What?”

“Come here.” The darker trait nods to the couch next to him, glancing up only briefly.

Roman hesitates, seems to consider fleeing, but eventually moves to perch beside him. Virgil holds still for a minute, letting the other relax, before shifting over to rest his weight against the royal. The other stiffens in shock at the contact, but Virgil ignores it, queuing up a buzzfeed video he knows Roman will like and settling in, weight firmly holding the other Side in place.

Gradually, he relaxes, and the darker trait elects not to mention it. Just pulls up another video, resolved to pretend this isn’t happening if it’ll make the both of them less awkward.

Of course, Roman never does what’s expected of him.

“... Virgil?”

“Yeah, Princey?”

“... Thanks.”

And, really, Virgil has only ever had one response when it comes to these three.

“Of course.”

Soundtrack:

Billy Raffoul

James Bay

Amber Run

(playlist "Of Course" is on Spotify, under the profile "RainyJames")

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #LAMP #CALM #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #fluff #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #mine #TS #gloomie writes #gloomie fic #gloomie post

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gffa · 8 years

Text

I’m at the point of Star Wars Feelings Hell where this is all I want to do anymore, I just want to talk about Star Wars, I just want to cry about the Star Wars characters, I just want to read Star Wars things, I want to watch Star Wars things, I want to play Star Wars games, I want to cry some more about Star Wars feelings, I want to have novels and novels worth of Star Wars fic to read, I want to curl up in my bed and lay there for three hours reading nothing but fluffy fix it fic and fic that makes everything even worse and everything in between. Just. All Star Wars All The Time! That’s all I want! STAR WARS FIC RECS: ✦ Fire and Ice by Yesac, obi-wan & anakin & some anakin/padme & cast, 111.9k Anakin wins the duel on Mustafar, but doesn’t kill Obi-Wan. Along with Padme, Obi-Wan finds himself living in a chaotic world where the man he thought he knew has become the thing he swore to destroy. Can Anakin be turned back? If so, what then? ✦ Negotiation by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, NSFW, modern au, serial killer au, 50.4k wip Over a year ago, Coruscant Police Detective Anakin Skywalker vanished without a trace while hunting the prolific serial killer known within the media as “The Negotiator”. ✦ Soldier, Poet, King by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon & mace & dooku & palpatine & cast, sith!obi-wan, NSFW, 95.4k wip Second chances are very rarely given, but the Force smiles upon two of its favorite children and returns them to a time before their actions have met their consequences. Anakin Skywalker, also known as Darth Vader, seeks redemption while Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, disillusioned with the Jedi Order and its Code, falls to the Darkness. ✦ The Light You Leave Behind by laventadorn, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/padme & ahsoka, 18.9k wip Because Anakin and Ahsoka have set out to learn what they can about the Sith - and to destroy them, once and for all. ✦ you’re gonna wish you never had met me by cosmicocean, obi-wan/padme & leia/han & luke & cast, 13k Leia Kenobi, struggling to keep her head above water. ✦ An Enlightening Experience by Valmouth, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & ahsoka & the father & the daughter & the son & cast, 2.3k “You… have been Chosen,” the Father says, and he sounds about as upset on the matter as Obi-Wan knows he will be, when he finally understands what that means. ✦ untitled by stonefreeak, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k Anakin wakes from nightmares tinted red. The darkness of his bedroom seems oppressive, and no matter how many times he blinks red seems to seep into the edges of his vision. ✦ I’ll Be There For You by SinkingLikeASunset, obi-wan/anakin/padme (eventual) & qui-gon & clones & cast, 40.7k wip Obi-Wan must alter events and make changes as he struggles with memories of a dreadful future and deals with new developments this time around. ✦ Wearer of the Veil by englishable, leia & ben, 1.4k Leia Organa-Solo knows that her son is not quite like everybody else, although she’s uncertain as to whether this means he should be protected more from others or himself. Either way, these strange dreams he has are beyond her reach. ✦ those immortal dead by notbecauseofvictories, padme & leia & luke & ben & poe & rey, 2.1k Padmé Amidala is forgotten, not gone. ✦ untitled by cadesama, anakin & leia & bail & tarkin, ~1k Anonymous asked: AU, Vader sues Bail for custody (either the Empire is intact and he has standing or its gone and he absolutely doesn’t, whichever is funnier) ✦ A Game of Chess by Kayarde, obi-wan & palpatine & cast, 4.3k Chancellor Palpatine and Knight Kenobi sit down for a game of chess. ✦ sometimes you don’t get it right by randomdreamer01, jyn & han (background han/leia and jyn/cassian) & cast, 2.6k Han Solo and Jyn Erso get drunk on the Millenium Falcon and find that they are similar in more ways than one. ✦ Unearthed Bones by Glare, obi-wan/anakin, human au, mafia au, 2.5k Obi-Wan Kenobi has given up a life of crime in favor of the questionable comforts of witness protection. Placed in a boring library job, everything appears to go great until he realizes his incompetent handlers somehow managed to drop him right in the middle of another man’s operation. full details + recs under the cut!

✦ Fire and Ice by Yesac, obi-wan & anakin & some anakin/padme & cast, 111.9k Anakin wins the duel on Mustafar, but doesn’t kill Obi-Wan. Along with Padme, Obi-Wan finds himself living in a chaotic world where the man he thought he knew has become the thing he swore to destroy. Can Anakin be turned back? If so, what then? This is one of the earliest fics I read in the fandom and I imprinted hard on it, but I wasn’t sure if it would hold up to a reread, so I decided to pick it up again for another read–and it absolutely holds up. In a lot of ways, this is the fic that got me into this relationship–I liked both characters, I had feelings about their relationship, but this is one the that really cemented in that this is what I’m here for and this is so much of how I wanted to see them done. It’s resolutely a gen fic and I’m fine reading it in that vein, I enjoy their dynamic on that level as well, but I think it’s worth reading if you ship them as well, because their relationship is so important to both characters, it’s the foundation on which they stand for both of them, and it’s also just really, really spot on. This is an Anakin who has so much power at his fingertips, but is the emotionally weak one, this is an Anakin who is consumed by fear and anger and desperation and cravings for approval from those he loves, this is an Anakin who has such good in him, but took a very wrong turn. And this is an Obi-Wan who can be cut off from the Force, who can not be up to his usual speed, and yet he still has this iron will that’s incredible, he still looks Anakin right in the eye and refuses to be worn down, this is an Obi-Wan who cannot be compromised in the way Anakin wants him to be, because Obi-Wan’s strength of character is incredible. This is what I imprinted on and this is what I remain true to–that this is why they’re both such fascinating, complicated characters who become so entwined with each other and supporting each other and loving each other and trying to figure out a way forward together and working through their issues together, all in a way that’s about growth and healing in such a good, emotionally satisfying way. But also on a sheer id-pleasing level, the first half of this fic is fucking delicious, it’s the best “Anakin wins the duel on Mustafar and keeps Obi-Wan prisoner” fic I have ever found, it understands Obi-Wan’s character just as much as it understands Anakin’s character, how strength comes in different forms. That even without the Force, holy shit, Obi-Wan is goddamned nightmare because he’s so smart and he may not be the Chosen One, but he was one of the best of the Jedi. And, oh, Anakin so desperately trying to gain his approval, when he climbs into bed with Obi-Wan it was one of my favorite scenes, it didn’t need to be anything more than what it was to be perfect. There are a ton of character insights in this fic, there are some great lines, there’s a great plot, and the writing is top-notch. To this day, this fic remains my #1 favorite in this fandom, the first half of this fic especially is everything I want re: characterization and writing. It was practically emotional/id porn for me and even if you don’t usually read genfic, I would suggest giving this one a shot, because, boy, is it ultimately ever really, really about the relationship between Obi-Wan and Anakin and it delivers on the emotional climax moments. ✦ Negotiation by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, NSFW, modern au, serial killer au, 50.4k wip Over a year ago, Coruscant Police Detective Anakin Skywalker vanished without a trace while hunting the prolific serial killer known within the media as “The Negotiator”. Chapter 18-19: This is an update rec and will focus on these chapters rather than the fic as a whole. I still can’t believe how good this fic is for me, how much I love every single scene of Anakin’s life being just an absolute mess, and the slow slide into where we know he’ll ultimately end up. It’s been 50k now and he’s still not there and yet every moment is just as interesting and engaging, it never gets old, each moment is useful in the journey along the way, it’s never repetitive in the ways that Anakin’s defenses are slowly crumbling against this person who is his only social outlet, this person who takes care of him, this person who he’s asking for things from, this person who is so charming and attractive, this person who is holding him here against his will, this person who is a murderer who feels no remorse about it, this person whose moods he cannot fully trust. Having this fic set from Anakin’s point of view works so well, because he’s such a relatable character in this situation and because the story focusing on his descent into Stockholm Syndrom is the heart of the fic, and it just works better in his pov, but it also gives me iddy happiness every time he’s so expaserated with himself and so frustrated/not a little terrified of what’s happening with him. But also, oh, man, the way the dynamic between him and Obi-Wan subtly shifts. The way Anakin’s so guilty about blowing him the night before, the way he still is drawn to Obi-Wan the next day, the way little moments, like Obi-Wan standing behind Anakin to guide his hands in chopping vegetables is so quietly intimate and there, all of that is SO GOOD FOR ME. And chapter 20 is set in the future again, a contrast against the chapter just before… but not as much of a contrast and I love it for how I felt the progress (?) Anakin has made along the fic. And, you know, Obi-Wan just looking people dead in the eye and able to say exactly what he wants to say to get the result he’s aiming for, how he can play a role and it’s utterly false but it gets the reaction or he can just look someone/something dead in the eye and you see the predator underneath and it’s… it’s not canon!Obi-Wan, but I feel like it’s what he might have been with the chains taken off him and I love getting to see such a sharp and immoral version of the character. It’s so much fun and also so good. And then Bail shows up! And, oh, man, the dynamic there is fascinating in what it says about Anakin, what it shows about Anakin and what calms him down, what puts him at ease and just… this fic is really good at being self-aware about what it’s doing, but still embracing it, and that makes it the fic I’m probably most eager to see a new chapter of, whenever it comes out. ✦ Soldier, Poet, King by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon & mace & dooku & palpatine & cast, sith!obi-wan, NSFW, 95.4k wip Second chances are very rarely given, but the Force smiles upon two of its favorite children and returns them to a time before their actions have met their consequences. Anakin Skywalker, also known as Darth Vader, seeks redemption while Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, disillusioned with the Jedi Order and its Code, falls to the Darkness. Chapter 30: This is an update rec and will focus on this chapter rather than the fic as a whole. Should I have waited until there was another chapter for an update rec? Ehh, probably. But I also don’t care. Because it’s a bit of a breather chapter after the previous one, it’s dealing with the aftermath of events that happened recently and it’s really satisfying–for both versions of the characters. Stepping carefully around spoilers, what happens with Padawan!Obi-Wan left me all excited and bouncing because I’d wondered and I loved the conversation with Plo Koon and how this chapter left off with this Obi-Wan, what it could mean for his future, because oh man yes do want! But also the future version of Ben and the downtime he has with Anakin, how it’s nice to have a chapter where they spend time together without any other pressing concerns in the very immediate future, as well as some really lovely, delicious shower sex. Where it’s just the two of them and Anakin whining for more so Ben opens him slowly and carefully before sliding into Anakin, who needs this, you feel how much he needs that connection again, rather than the fic telling you about it. That Ben has a moment of actually allowing himself something nice, to be pressed inside this person he loves so much, to have Anakin back after everything they’ve both been through, how it leads up to telling Anakin he loves him, because it’s one thing for us all to know it, but to read the words is so satisfying, right along with the lovely sex, that Anakin is safe in his arms again, trusts him again, listens to him again, wants more of him again. That they’ve found this balance, right exactly like this, and it just really made me happy in my soul for all the characters. ✦ The Light You Leave Behind by laventadorn, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/padme & ahsoka, 18.9k wip Because Anakin and Ahsoka have set out to learn what they can about the Sith - and to destroy them, once and for all. I think I’ve recommended this fic before, but there was enough time between updates/I reread enough of it that I’m gonna do a fresh rec. I LOVE THIS FIC, I am super intrigued by it already, where things go a little differently when Ahsoka leaves the Jedi Order and Anakin starts thinking about going with her, but is torn between wanting this other path and the desire he has to be a Jedi, to stay with Obi-Wan as well. The writing is lovely and sharp, the characterizations are complicated and bittersweet, in the way that Star Wars so often is. When Obi-Wan says that he thinks they’re losing the war, it sends Anakin into this tailspin, because Obi-Wan’s not supposed to say that, he starts a slow boil panic because Anakin is not good at dealing with feelings like this and, oh, it’s painful but it’s also so very good. It’s really a group fic, though, it has Padme and Ahsoka and Obi-Wan and Anakin, but there’s also some good stuff with Bail Organa and Asajj Ventress, there’s some great ways each of the characters see each other–I especially loved Padme’s view of Anakin and his need for guidance and how Obi-Wan could be “charmingly, annoyingly, passive-aggressive” in one description and really actually idealistic in another. And, oh, I do love the feeling that I get from this fic that there’s no “evil” side (other than Sidious and the Sith, of course), that the Jedi may have lost their way, but they’re not bad people, that Padme can disagree with people, but both sides have validity, that there’s nuance and complicated circumstances here. I live for that in fic, it makes things so much better and stronger as a story! It really is fascinating and so easy to see/hear the characters and so engaging a read. ✦ you’re gonna wish you never had met me by cosmicocean, obi-wan/padme & leia/han & luke & cast, 13k Leia Kenobi, struggling to keep her head above water. This is a sequel to turn my sorrow into treasured gold, which should be read first. I admit, this fic focused a little too much on the ESB plot, which meant not nearly as much new stuff happened in it, and I think that held it back from being as good as the first one was. But I also still tore through this fic and it’s a great look at Leia’s character and the writing is lovely and I am just so, so here for an AU where Obi-Wan and Padme raised the twins, where Leia knows her mother and considers herself Obi-Wan’s daughter, how that both does and doesn’t change who she is. The character moments are lovely and it just… really felt like Star Wars, I enjoyed it a great deal. ✦ An Enlightening Experience by Valmouth, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & ahsoka & the father & the daughter & the son & cast, 2.3k “You… have been Chosen,” the Father says, and he sounds about as upset on the matter as Obi-Wan knows he will be, when he finally understands what that means. I both wish that this had been like 50k long and think it’s perfect exactly as it is, it’s sort of crack-treated-seriously, but also very light-hearted, but also comes with genuine emotional weight. It’s one of those neat concepts that isn’t really in line with canon, but it’s happily embraced by being what my id wants, giving Obi-Wan a special Destiny, especially as the embodiment of the Light on Mortis. It’s such a fun fic, it has just the right amount of detail and ideas sketched out to really capture my imagination, but also to give me feelings (both happy and heartbreaking!) about Obi-Wan, exactly as it should. It was a really lovely read. ✦ untitled by stonefreeak, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k Anakin wakes from nightmares tinted red. The darkness of his bedroom seems oppressive, and no matter how many times he blinks red seems to seep into the edges of his vision. This is a short ficlet, but oh it’s lovely and adorable and bittersweet and heart-warming and perfect. When Anakin is 13, he feels he should be too old to sneak into Obi-Wan’s bed for cuddles and sleep, but a nightmare gets him up and sneaking out anyway and, oh, I love how easy it is in this moment, how it’s simple and quiet and Obi-Wan just lifts up one arm in invitation and I can see it so clearly and it’s perfect and my heart feels so much better after this lovely piece. ✦ I’ll Be There For You by SinkingLikeASunset, obi-wan/anakin/padme (eventual) & qui-gon & clones & cast, 40.7k wip Obi-Wan must alter events and make changes as he struggles with memories of a dreadful future and deals with new developments this time around. Chapter 1-8: I believe I’ve recommended this fic before, but it’s updated since then and I continue to enjoy it! The beginning takes a bit to get underway, but once Obi-Wan is in the past and has settled a bit, the fic shifts into gear and really engaged me. I like that it’s a fic where things aren’t really in a rush, even as they’re often tense and there’s a looming sense of things on the horizon. There’s room to breathe here, as well as some really good scenes between Obi-Wan and various people, especially Anakin, who gets frustrated that Obi-Wan won’t tell him what’s wrong, but Obi-Wan is slowly getting him to learn to trust that he’ll tell Anakin when the time is right. Not that Obi-Wan knows precisely what to do, he stumbles and is at a loss at times, but he’s still making his way carefully and is still determined to make things better this time. But what I’m really here for is the slow development of Obi-Wan/Anakin/Padme as a threesome and how Obi-Wan/Anakin is getting so much of their communication finally worked out. Chapter seven has a nicely id-satisfying scene where much of the building confrontations finally happen, where Obi-Wan and Anakin finally really talk to each other, how Obi-Wan finally says directly what he now realizes Anakin needs to hear, how Anakin warms under that praise and affection. The fic is at its best when it’s focused on them (and Padme), when it lets me just happily roll around in the tropes that it embraces and just makes me feel all warm-hearted and content! Chapter 9: This is an update rec and will focus on this chapter, rater than the fic as a whole. This fic starts a bit rough in the beginning, but once the timeline starts changing and the fic settles into the more daily life stuff, it becomes really cute and charming and chapter 9 really exemplifies that for me, it was just so adorable to watch Anakin verbally flailing and tripping over himself because Obi-Wan knew about his marriage to Padme, like I would have read five chapters in a row of that, because that’s where the fic is at its best and it’s just fluffy and pure iddy fix-it and cuteness! And I’m enjoying the slow roll towards Obianidala as a pairing, that it’s been 40k of fic now and they’re just sort of getting around to it and Obi-Wan’s affection for them is very nice and both Anakin and Padme are really cute, especially when Obi-Wan is so calm and serene, because that’s how he is, while they trip over themselves trying to pretend they’re not in a relationship. But also I will apparently eat up with a spoon any time Anakin has a panic attack and Obi-Wan’s presence and guidance helps bring him back, yesss, give me that always, that’s what I’m here for! ✦ Wearer of the Veil by englishable, leia & ben, 1.4k Leia Organa-Solo knows that her son is not quite like everybody else, although she’s uncertain as to whether this means he should be protected more from others or himself. Either way, these strange dreams he has are beyond her reach. A lovely, bittersweet look at Leia and her son, how his childhood went and the dreams that loom over him, how a kid can start out so sweet and so loved, who is always loved, and still you see how things could end up the way they did. The imagery in the fic is used really well and the sheer amount of feelings of the piece are just right and it really was a really, really lovely piece to read. ✦ those immortal dead by notbecauseofvictories, padme & leia & luke & ben & poe & rey, 2.1k Padmé Amidala is forgotten, not gone. This is really more of a fairy tale type of story than one that’s grounded in the Star Wars details (though, I wouldn’t say it’s a straight up fairy tale, either, if you’re looking for that kind of thing, just that it’s fuzzy and dreamy and not quite how SW works, but that style works for the fic) and it’s more about fleeing impressions and moments, the lingering of a ghost that’s not quite in your field of vision. That Padme’s influence on the galaxy is still there, even if she herself or her name are not, and it’s a really delicate balance to walk, but I thought the fic did a lovely job of it! ✦ untitled by cadesama, anakin & leia & bail & tarkin, ~1k Anonymous asked: AU, Vader sues Bail for custody (either the Empire is intact and he has standing or its gone and he absolutely doesn’t, whichever is funnier) I think I grinned my way through this entire thing, there’s something just so… hilariously surreal about Vader suing Bail Organa for custody of baby Leia, who is just totally content to crawl all over him, while Wilhuff Tarkin moderates the whole thing with such utter… I don’t even know how to describe the mix of academic interest with complete detachment. Then you add in a fantastic last few lines that completely captured my imagination and you have a great little read. ✦ A Game of Chess by Kayarde, obi-wan & palpatine & cast, 4.3k Chancellor Palpatine and Knight Kenobi sit down for a game of chess. I have a great fascination for the dynamic between Obi-Wan and Palpatine, as two people who are playing a game of chess against each other (literally here, metaphorically in canon, even if Obi-Wan’s not entirely aware of it) and rivals in some ways. The series of scenes in this fic, spread across the years, the way they come to respect each other as rivals, the way Palpatine sees Obi-Wan as a genuinely interesting person to play against, and how that changes some fates and not others, was a really interesting little read tonight! ✦ sometimes you don’t get it right by randomdreamer01, jyn & han (background han/leia and jyn/cassian) & cast, 2.6k Han Solo and Jyn Erso get drunk on the Millenium Falcon and find that they are similar in more ways than one. Oh, this was a beautifully written fic, it’s all rough edges and unhappy moments and jaded undercurrents to everything, but with real and genuine heart underneath it, just as it should be for these two characters. It works beautifully and understands both characters and draws these really beautiful parallels and contrasts, for the way they look at the world and the feelings they have for these people who are so deep into the Rebellion and how Han and Jyn try to deal with that. It’s a gorgeous fic that I never expected to get and it really was a treat. ✦ Unearthed Bones by Glare, obi-wan/anakin, human au, mafia au, 2.5k Obi-Wan Kenobi has given up a life of crime in favor of the questionable comforts of witness protection. Placed in a boring library job, everything appears to go great until he realizes his incompetent handlers somehow managed to drop him right in the middle of another man’s operation. I didn’t know I needed this fic until I had it–which I say a lot, but I always mean it! It’s such an interesting beginning, I love that this Obi-Wan is living this peaceful life, but he can’t just not notice what’s going on around him, Obi-Wan is too fundamentally an observant character which of course leads exactly where it was always going to go. I loved this opening chapter, it could have stood on its own the way it is, the ending would have worked for that, but I am also really here for more of it! I love the potential of it, the way it captures my imagination, the scene between Obi-Wan and Anakin, both of them sizing the other up, especially the way Obi-Wan is just so… calm and centered, that even when he’s being tempted back to what he really is, there’s something solid and steady about him, which compliments the more wild feel of Anakin and I liked the way that sense of who they are was mapped onto these versions of them. And also I am super ready for more of this whenever it comes out, especially if it has undercurrents of being fucked up in super tasty ways, as the author is really good at. ♥

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #ahsoka tano #obikin #obianidala #luke skywalker #leia organa #fic recs #star wars fic recs

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theliterateape · 5 years

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Chris Churchill Saves the World | The Misguided Art of Defending Misguided Art

By Chris Churchill

We love to be entertained. Maybe it’s a side effect of having tamed our environment so well in the last one hundred years or so that we only have to work eight hours a day to keep a secure existence. Maybe it’s because working (as it is for most of us) is a miserable part of our lives and we need entertainment to save our brains from the repetition that puts undue stress on our bodies. So, maybe “love to be entertained” is only one way of looking at it. Maybe that’s just for those with nothing to do. Maybe many more of us need to be entertained. It’s a lifeline to our very sanity for much of human civilization.

I have my go-to sources of entertainment. I’m one of those people who you laugh at because they’re screaming along with their favorite music on their car stereo. Queens of the Stone Age makes me feel strong... or vulnerable... whichever one I need. Ween makes me embrace my own feelings of oddness and cleverness as well. Prince or The Beatles make me feel strong, clever, wise, and/or powerful on a good day. When I had a mental health crisis in 1999, Radiohead’s OK Computer gave me sufficient rest from “all the unborn chicken voices in my head” so that I didn’t completely melt under the heat and gravity of my own illness.

Comedy does it for me too. Usually comedians I’ve followed for years; the ones who feel like old friends.

It’s the old friends thing that can really cloud your judgment, though. Not just that, but rather the idea that you have any personal connection at all to these sources of entertainment. (I mean they aren’t old friends, you know. They aren’t family, you know. But a HUGE part of their job and their success relies on making you suspend that rational understanding that they are not your friends and feel that they are, if only for the duration of their set.)

When one of them proves to be unworthy of your fandom, it’s a tough breakup, isn’t it?

I’ll admit, I used to love both Bill Cosby and Louis C. K. I truly thought they were good guys who were simply commenting on life’s foibles and the shortcomings of the human male. I have insecurities about much of what makes me male. So their humor felt like an old friend saying, “I get it. I feel that way too.” (Cue laugh of recognition and relief.)

Implied in their onstage personas was also this thought: “But we’re not really going to do the bad thing.” But then you find out that, yes, they did want to do the bad bad things. That changes things, doesn’t it? For me anyway, that changes the whole point of their humor. Then it loses me. Not simply because I don’t want to support a sex criminal (which should be enough) but because the art they had put out there no longer means the same thing to me.

If I try to hold the Louie of his television show, with all his honest introspection about the concerns of modern sexuality and single parenting and if I try to search for emotional truth — if I try to hold that Louie in my head while also picturing the one that trapped young female comedians in a room and forced them to watch him masturbate — suddenly I don’t care about his foibles anymore. I don’t find him to be the lovable underdog anymore. And with that, the point of view and the point, in general, of the joke, vaporizes. The whole stage/screen persona changes from an honest, vulnerable guy into a guy wants you to believe he’s an honest, vulnerable guy in order to trap you in a room.

As far as Cosby goes, who can laugh at his album Spanish Fly, and as a result, any of his humor anymore, now that you know the actual point of view of Mr. Cosby? I can’t.

“I’m a sexual predator but, God, I love my family. I’ll drug a woman but YOU should pull up your pants.” It falls apart.

Recent revelations about other celebs have brought these same thoughts to mind as I watch the fan base of R. Kelly debate over social media about whether or not his music should be totally abandoned because of his sexual predation. Of course, the first line of defense for those who desperately need the art that R. Kelly created in their lives, is that other people did the same types of things or worse than their chosen artistic hero (one example I’ve seen is Hugh Hefner) so where’s the anger at him? (Of course, “whataboutism’s for kids”, you know.) Yes, reevaluate Hefner with modern eyes. Do that. But also reevaluate your own heroes when it comes out that they have been awful.

Notice that people who are not fans of R. Kelly have no problem believing the young ladies who are accusing him of assaulting and imprisoning them. Fans of his, the more fanatical the better, create reasons why that either the accusations are untrue (“These ladies want money.”), why it’s not so bad (“I had a kid when I was fifteen and I knew exactly what I was doing.”), or why it is a conspiracy by some outside party to discredit, destroy, or punish their celebrity hero. It’s usually a whole lot of mental karate to protect their emotions of sadness, disappointment, or shock.

Of course now, thanks to the Michael Jackson documentary, I hear a lot of “They killed Michael Jackson. Now they’re smearing his name with all these fake allegations of child sexual abuse.” Who are they? And why would you do the mental and emotional gymnastics to believe this but not put your mind and feelings through the same ringer to protect a different celebrity? That’s a question about you, not about them. You can go ahead and answer that, if you want. (I know I was real late on accepting that Cosby and Louis C. K. had done the things they had been accused of doing for years.)

The things we do so we can keep listening to the same music, the same comedy, the same television or movies... SMH… It’s crazy how we’ll defend someone we don’t know over someone else we don’t know simply because the first one made up something we loved or needed and the second one, as far as we know, didn’t. We overlook the fact that art isn’t the only thing that’s valuable. That other person you don’t know is valuable too. Believe me, I understand how art can treat the ailments of the soul. But you know what else does that? Doing the right thing and having a clear conscience about it.

“Cosby would never do that. You know he was about to buy NBC? They just wanted to bring a black man down.”

“Hugh Hefner wasn’t all bad. I loved that magazine. Even though, maybe it was misogynistic and his little empire may have even promoted abuse. He seemed like my fun uncle, Hugh.”

“Billy Graham was such a man of God. Even if he was hateful to homosexuals and those who opposed him.”

“John Lennon beat his wife. But he went through intense therapy and grew up a lot. But still, he beat his wife. But he wrote ‘Imagine’. But he did beat his wife.”

“Richard Prior was a violent drug addict but he grew from it and got wiser and funnier.”

Sometimes, the facts do fall on the side of the person who did the bad things. Sometimes people grow, repent, and only make relatively “small” mistakes for the rest of their lives, like forgetting to take out the trash. Sometimes they don’t.

Let me suggest that the information on sexual predators shows that there will probably be no growth or repentance for any celebrity who preys on children. R. Kelly preyed on children. I’m sorry if your own life experience tells you that a fifteen-year-old is an adult. It’s not. And you, hopefully, are more mature by far than you were then. Hopefully, no adult forced you to do anything too grown up at that time. If they did, hopefully you aren’t doing any mental karate to protect them.

The larger point, though, is that it’s not even about repentance or forgiveness. It’s about the new understanding of the original point of view of the art. If a piece of art was created by an artist who created it from their warped perspective on life, then maybe the art doesn’t mean what we think it means anymore. Maybe we were singing or laughing along with the wrong messages. Can we be mature enough to adjust our feelings accordingly?

#celebrity #scandals #Bill Cosby #Louis C.K.#R Kelly #Michael Jackson #Separating the art from the artist

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