#But my old man memory... it's a neverending battle... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wereh0gz · 3 years ago

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Awakening - Oneshot

A oneshot I began a long time ago which I decided to edit a bit and post because why not.

Based on my True Gaia AU which I decided to merge into another AU that I've yet to give a proper name. I'm calling it Old Man Sonic AU as a placeholder until I figure out some more details.

Summary: Chip reawakens, but things are very different now.

Words: 2,839

The sun shone above in the clear blue sky, casting warm rays of light down on the forest canopy and trickling down to the forest's floor.

… …

A creature lies on a soft bed of grass, perfectly still. Sound failed to reach their ears and their eyes refused to open.

… … …?

Voiceless thoughts came up in its mind. Confusion, mostly. Anger as well…? But why?

… … …

The creature's mind remained blank. Its head hurt.

…

… Wh...

… What… happened…?

Where… am I…?

The creature found an inner voice. It's thoughts were beginning to have more meaning than just vague feelings, vague emotions it didn't know why it felt. Consciousness was just within its grasp.

Their eyes slowly inch open, letting in the warm morning light and the splashes of green from the forest they slumbered in. Their ears pick up the sound of a gentle wind flowing through the leaves of the trees above, the sound of birds chirping and singing. They felt the grass beneath their body, the fresh breeze on their fur.

His eyes slowly close again, the creature barely having the energy to keep them open. Everything seemed far too bright for their tired eyes. Moving was too much of a bother.

The creature began to recall, memories that seemed distant appearing in his mind's eye. Long periods of silence, of nothing. Then there would be destruction like no other. He saw a lush, beautiful world crumble over and over after so long of seeing nothing but void. He saw entire civilizations crumble, the extinction of all life. The memories terrified him, but his body refused to move, to let him wake from this seemingly neverending nightmare. He could only whimper in silence.

It remembered two beings, one a gigantic, lizard-like abomination, the other a small, fairy-like canine. It saw the destruction from both sides, from the side of the monster, and the side of the little fairy. They clashed millions of times, each cycle followed by a long period of slumber, until…

One memory returns to them, a recent one. They wake up to the grizzly sight of a beast, covered in shaggy blue fur and spines, sharp, green eyes staring right at them. A few moments later, the beast's form was engulfed in a bright light and dissipated into purple smoke, revealing a young blue hedgehog. They eventually became friends.

The hedgehog's name escaped them. It started with an 'S'...?

He couldn't think too long about that. More memories came back to him, of monsters appearing in the night, of painfully grasping at what energy he had left to free himself from his prison, of another battle between the two strange creatures, of winning, of losing.

Then there was a bittersweet goodbye, before everything returned to void again. Though something changed. It didn't want to slumber anymore. It held on to the memory of the friend it had made, until it could see him again. It watched as he went from one adventure to the next, cheering him on silently. It remembered its rage rising with every one of his victories until it exploded.

It's becoming hard to tell which memory belonged to which creature.

At some point, in the void, the rage became too much to handle for both creatures. There was a wish from the small fairy, to stop the clashes, the needless fighting. And the monster, for once, listened. Perhaps they, too, were tired of all their battles. Perhaps they were touched by the hedgehog's kindness as well. The feelings were too muddled to tell.

But there was one thing they knew for certain. They both wanted to let this go.

Then, there was and embrace. The darkness no longer felt as cold as it did once before. After that, silence.

Now he's here, barely keeping himself awake and going through his memories in his head, trying to remember what led him here. He couldn't find an answer, but at least he remembered the blue hedgehog's name.

'Sonic'.

The hedgehog had given it a name too. 'Chip', named after its favorite food. It never knew it had a favorite food until it met him. Turns out it really liked chocolate.

It was called two other names, too. 'Light Gaia'. 'Dark Gaia'. They belonged to the two creatures it used to be.

They are one now. It felt strange, confusing. There was a flurry of memories, memories from both sides over billions of years. Yet it felt somewhat natural. Perhaps they were always meant to become one god. Maybe they were one in the first place. They couldn't remember that far back.

He opened his eyes again, reminding himself that, yes, he was physically on Mobius now. The time he spent recalling all those memories felt like hours. It might've been. He couldn't really tell.

It pushed itself up weakly, groaning, but it managed to sit up and look at its surroundings. Its eyes took some time to adjust to the light, but after a moment it could see everything clearly. There were trees as far as they eye could see.

They slowly push themself up to stand, legs trembling slightly. They weren't used to walking, neither of their past forms ever did it much. Their wings fluttered as they looked over their new form. It was quite similar to that of a mobian's, though noticeably different from an average one. The fur on most of their body was maroon, with an off white patch on their chest and belly. They had four arms instead of the usual two, their forearms and hands covered in dark purple scales and tipped with bright cyan claws. Their feet were similar to their hands too, starting with fur then changing to scales down the lower leg.

He turned his head to see a long tail, tipped with a long tuft of fur the same color as the patch on his chest, fading into purple at the ends. He pulled his tail up and began to gently brush its soft fur with his claws. He raised his free set of hands to his face, feeling the short fur on his muzzle, then moving on to his forehead, feeling the sharp horns on top. Then he felt long, hair-like fur, and gently pulled a few strands into view. Just like the tuft on his tail, it was off white and faded into purple.

It blinked, trying to process what was happening, and all the new sensations it felt.

I'm… alive? How did I…?

Its head began to hurt again.

The creature looked up at the sky, clear blue obscured by green foliage. Then it looked at the rest of their surroundings, forest mostly cast in shadow, save for the bands of light that leaked in between the leaves. Mushrooms and moss rested on tree bark, almost blue in color. It was… pretty. It didn't have any other words to describe what it saw. It was just pretty.

The dazed being stood there, taking in the sight. They felt tired. A bit… empty. Something was missing, but they didn't know what. And, frankly, they were too tired to try and search for that missing piece now, whatever it was.

A gust of wind blows by. He feels something… strange. A trace of energy, Chaos Energy. And something else. Something familiar.

Something dark.

He turned in the direction the wind blew, taking a clumsy step. He trips, falling back down on the grass with a thump.

He groaned as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position. Perhaps walking wasn't a good idea.

Its wings fluttered, buzzing as they lifted it off the ground. It swayed slightly, but eventually found balance. Flying felt much more natural than walking.

So, after that small misstep, the creature floated off into the dark shadows of the forest, following the wind and the small traces of energy it left behind.

They wandered for what felt like hours, alternating between walking and flying. The forest was seemingly endless, nothing but trees and strange fungi for miles. Though, to their relief, they eventually find a pond, its crystal clear water glistening in the sunlight.

The being stumbled to its edge, almost falling in. He stared at his reflection in the water's distorted mirror. Eyes like emeralds stared back, five of them, two of a normal size, two smaller ones right next to them, and one on his forehead, decorating his face like gemstones. The larger two had golden irises surrounding slit pupils, shrunken by the light on his face.

… Is that… really me?

It lowered a clawed hand down into the water, touching the reflection and watching it twist with the rippling water.

I look so… different from what I remember…

It continued to pass its hand through the water, feeling it flow through their fingers and watching the ripples on its surface. It began to feel… disconnected. Untethered to the world. Sounds began to fade, unheard in the creature's ears. Its surroundings turned hazy. Everything felt like a dream. Maybe it was dreaming, still slumbering, trapped in the planet's core. It couldn't tell.

A sudden sound breaks them out of their daze, a gentle sound, yet unlike anything they had heard in the woods so far. The plucking of strings, one after another, soft yet stronger than the sounds of the forest. They sounded off a gentle melody, carried by the wind to where they sat. It was lovely and… familiar, somehow. It reminded them of a time long past, of a friendship come and gone.

He stood up, ears turned in the direction of the music, and he began walking towards its source. It grew louder and louder as he approached, the traces of energy he felt becoming stronger and more unified, until he saw it. Sitting upon a stone, a blue hedgehog wearing an old cloak played a red guitar to the beat of his tapping foot, a soft smile on his face.

He took a step forward, accidentally stepping on a twig and snapping it in half.

The hedgehog suddenly stops at the sound. He turns his head towards the being, emerald eyes meeting his own.

He looked like someone it used to know. A dear friend. It reached out to him hesitantly as it began to call his name.

"So…"

And in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

"... nic."

Couldn't even say his name before he disappeared.

"Mm…" I must be seeing things…

It sat down next to the stone, using it as a backrest and closing its eyes. It was tired, all that walking drained what little energy it had. It leaned back on the rock as it was slowly dragged into unconsciousness once more.

I guess… it was nice to be awake… just for a little while…

…

The creature awoke, finding themself somewhere new, surrounded by something soft and warm, a nest of blankets and pillows. They saw a ceiling of stone above them. Rain poured outside, its sound accompanied by guitar music. The blue hedgehog sat before them, no longer wearing the cloak, happily playing his old guitar in front of a crackling campfire. The calming tune almost lulled them to sleep again.

"Mornin', stranger," the hedgehog says just as the music stops.

"Mn… morning…?" they mumble as they sit up and rub their hazy head, "W-where am I?"

The hedgehog looked back at him, smiling, "Just one of my little burrows. I couldn't just leave you out in the rain to catch a cold."

The creature took a good look at the hedgehog's face. He looked older, possibly around middle-age, late-thirties at least. His green eyes were kind and almost glowing in the shadows. His long, cobalt blue spines were tipped in a light, off white color. His smile was so soft, so kind, there was no doubt in his mind, that was Sonic sitting right before him.

"Sonic…?"

The hedgehog seemed surprised to hear that name, but his smile didn't falter.

"Oh, have we met before? Sorry, my memory's been a bit, ah… faulty, lately," he said, scratching the back of his head with his left hand. Around his wrist rested a bracelet, a bit worn with time, but still well taken care of. A green gem glistened, reflecting the light of the fire.

"You don't… recognize me?" the being muttered, clutching the blankets wrapped around him with his claws.

The hedgehog remained silent for a moment, thinking.

"Y'know… Now that you mention it, you do look kinda familiar," he said, giving him a strange look, "Nah, you couldn't be…" He stood from his spot, stepping in closer to him, eyeing him.

It should tell him, but what name would it give? It had three, and the people associated with them had become muddled into one. Though one of the names was given to it by Sonic, so maybe…

"Chip. It's me… Chip."

It came out almost instinctively, that precious name Sonic had assigned to them. When he heard it, his eyes grew wide and he tackled them into a hug with such force and speed he knocked them to the ground. They gasped as strong arms wrapped around them, nearly crushing their ribs.

Sonic laughed. "Chip! Oh Chaos, I missed you so much!"

Chip smiled, returning the embrace, "I… missed you too."

"You look so different now! What happened?" he asked, pulling away from the hug and giving Chip space to breathe.

"I'm… not sure."

"Wait, if you're back, then that means Dark Gaia might be out there somewhere too," Sonic said as he began pacing around, distressed by the thought, "The world's been at peace for a long time. We can't have it causing any trouble."

"I… Well, you're kinda right, but…"

Sonic tilted his head, confused, "... 'But' what?"

"I…" they hesitate, looking down at their claws, "I'm… Chip. But I'm also Dark Gaia."

"... What?"

"I'm Chip and Dark Gaia."

They stared at each other, one with a blank face and the other with a perplexed expression.

"Wait, so… you two fused together or something?"

"I think so?" Chip replied, before sighing and laying themself back down, "Honestly, I'm too tired to think about that too much right now… I know for sure it won't be causing any more apocalypses now, though."

"... I see."

"You don't… hate me, do you?" Chip blurted out.

Sonic's quills raised, seemingly surprised by the question. "What? No! Why would I?"

"Because…" Chip tried to think, trying to put his racing thoughts into words, "Because, well… Dark Gaia and I are one and the same now. I remember everything it did… I remember wanting to destroy everything… wanting to hurt you…"

"Chip, that wasn't you."

"But it was!" He suddenly sat back up again, agitated "... Wasn't it?"

Chip could feel warm tears begin to well in its eyes, its chest becoming heavy with the weight of guilt.

Sonic pulled it into his arms, embracing it once more, but this time, he was much more gentle. He began rubbing circles on its back. Tears began to fall, slipping down Chip's cheeks.

"Look, Chip," Sonic began, "I think you're just confused by all of this. I don't blame you, I don't really understand what's going on, either. But you'll always be Chip in my eyes, whether you're fused with Dark Gaia or not."

Chip closed their eyes, wrapping their arms around Sonic and hugging him tight. They felt a weight being lifted by his words.

"We'll figure this out together, okay?"

"... Okay."

They remained in each other's arms for a while, sitting in a somber, yet oddly comfortable silence as Chip let themself cry in Sonic's shoulder. The hedgehog held them until the tears stopped falling. Eventually, they felt Sonic lower them back onto the soft pillows and blankets, lying them down with care.

"You look really tired. Being awakened early and all that must've taken its toll, huh?" he said.

"Mhm…"

Sonic got up, grabbing his guitar before sitting back down next to Chip. A hand landed on their head, wearing a white fingerless glove. The exposed fingers were slightly fuzzy, pale blue and tipped with sharp claws. They didn't remember Sonic's hands being like this, not in this form, anyway, though they supposed he had just changed over time. He did look a lot older, after all.

Then again, he didn't remember ever seeing his hands without gloves in the first place, except after transforming into that beast…

That doesn't really matter now, does it?

Sonic gently rubbed the fur on his head. "Sleep as much as you need to, pal. You're gonna need the energy now that you're free."

With rain still pouring down outside the burrow, Chip felt his eyelids grow heavy, and he slowly drifted to sleep once more. But before everything faded to darkness, he heard Sonic whispering something to him as he began to play another tune on his guitar.

"We've got two hundred years of catching up to do, kid."

#sonic the hedgehog #chip the light gaia #light gaia #dark gaia #sonic au #sonic fanfic #sonic fanfiction #oneshot #☆my writing☆#i'm not gonna make a tag for a specific au bc. it's a mess rn #i mostly wrote this for fun and to play around a bit with the concepts #so it's possible things may get retconned here and there as time goes on #i don't feel like there'd be much to retcon here tho so. idk #um anyways enjoy!

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luxshine · 2 years ago

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So lets' finish Stranger Things 3

We have the anti-Russian squad going to find the kids at the mall, and the teen/kids squad trying NOT to cut El's leg. Good beginning.

Robin's nervous babble was really funny, if not helpful. And OMG Jonathan is our field medic! That gives him the role of healer in the party, which means, medic. I mean, Cleric.

Until El got tired and decided fuck with being a team player, I can do this myself.

Which she can, but still.

Oh, and the adults are here. FINALLY

Erica is amazing, and I can see she's becoming to Dustin what Dustin himself is to Steve. I love that.

Ah, Hopper, he should really learn the kids know what they're doing.

And Sweet Ride Steve!

Ah, the reunion between the kids was very sweet.

I notice that STEVE is sent to babysit the action group, but Jonathan and Nancy are sent to babysit the passive group.

Aww, Hooper is back to his old good side. The one who ACTUALLY talks about his feelings to his daughter, and is not being idiotically jealous because she leaves with an idiot. HE's even being NICE to Mike. Love that.

Joyce is going. Hopper has no choice.

Sure that passive group is not going to end up passive because Billy, but hey, I still notice that the adults trust more in Steve than in Jonathan and Nancy who are the ones actually BLOOD related to the team.

Murray is BAD at the bavarian drill. But Jim is good at improvising.

And Steve... Oh, Steve is the best dad for Dustin! Amazing Dad, and I love him and his gay sister Robin and his new kid Erica. He just needs a partner for the job.

"Scoop Troop"? Really? And of course, Nancy has a gun. Nancy IS the Barbarian of the team, and nothing will convince me otherwise.

So far I have Nancy as the Barbarian, Dustin as the Lore Keeper, Lucas is my Fighter, Will is the Wizard, El is the psionic, Max is the Ranger, and Steve the Paladin. I am still wondering about Mike's role. Oh, Jonathan is now the Cleric, yes.

El's batteries are really low.

Well, the Mind Flayer is kaijuu sized now. Cool. Wonder if the Russians will notice?

And the HoopBryce ship is SAILING people. It had been telegraphed since Season 1, but it's finally sailing.

The Scoop Troop has seen the danger. And I BET they're going to do something.

Griswold Family? OF course, Vacations.

I really like their codes. I might use them for season 4.

And of course, Super BabySitter extraordinary has to go and save the Griswold family. And Robin, as his lesbian best friend, is RIGHT behind him.

Through the Gap. Cool.

Also, Mind Flayer is not very good at seeing, which is great.

If Murray dies avenging Alexei, I will riot.

Lucas is VERY smart.

I am surprised he found a new braincell for the team, given that so far, we had ONE braincell and Robin.

Nancy REALLY wanted to shot Billy, I see.

AND STEVE TO THE RESCUE!!! I love Super Babysitter!

Aww... Suzy is adorable. Even if she just made Dustin sing in the middle of a battle. And he is not a bad singer!

THIS is a nice childhood romance. It is NOT the time or place to interrupt the action with Neverending story, but is REALLY realistic as how 13 year old kids can be. Especially as Suzy DOESN'T Know about the monster.

Poor Erica.

Ok, meanwhile, Billy is STILL alive. What is this man made of?! Besides Mind Flayer nastiness.

Wait... the Griswolds left El behind? NOT smart. Well, yes, given that the big kaijuu was following the Grinwalds and half the Scoop troop.

The Door is BIG. And I like that this time it's the non-powered ones who are closing it. Unless of course, Billy ruins it.

Oh, Billy is ruining it. Also, this is REALLY creepy.

Lucas and his fireworks to the rescue! I said the fighter was great and I was right.

Very cool that fight with the kaijuu and the fireworks. But I have a BAAD feeling about Hooper right now.

And El brings Billy back with a nice memory. Bit tropey, but it works.

Meanwhile, Joyce is super resourcefull, and Hooper is good at improvising.

IS Billy going to sacrifice himself to save El? In front of Max? Oh, my god. This is weird. I still don't like Billy, but I am a SUCKER for redemption means death.

Also, I wanted Billy to die, and I LOVE Epic deaths like this one.

... Hooper is not going to die. But MAN the showrunners wanted us to believe he would.

Every russian got pureed, the Kaijuu Mind flayer died, and hey, Billy even got to say he was sorry to Max. I still hate him, but good epic death and Redemption means DEath so... cool for him.

Murray and Joyce escaped together, which means that they will PROBABLY end up in a relationship for season 4, and hey, the army FINALLY arrived, late but they arrived!

Aww, Poor El. She STILL doesn't get to live as Jane Hooper. But I am STILL sure Hooper is still alive. You can't fool me Stranger Things 4.

3 Months later.

Of course, Steve and Robin lost their job at Scoops Ahoy so now they have to get a job. And omg, Robin is being his job wingman. I love it.

Oh, the Bryces are finally moving? Interesting.

Lucas and Max can die right now, if you ask Dustin.

Aw... Will never joining another DnD party. So sweet.

Nancy IS far more into keeping Jonathan than she was into keeping Steve. So I REALLY hope they don't try to put Nancy and Steve together again just because.

Oh El! What is going to happen to El? Everyone is dead that could take care of her.

Batteries still down, I see.

Oh, I see that El is going with the Byers. Good.

Ah.. the letter from Hooper? THAT is the old hooper that I love.

AWW Erica got the legacy!

HA! I knew Hooper was alive! He's in the worst place possible as he's now a prisoner of war, but hey, he's ALIVE! And maybe he can learn Russian!

And sigh. Yes, another Demogorgon. We really don't need more of those.

#stranger things #stranger things 3 #dustin henderson #steve harrington #robin buckley #the rest

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cake-writes · 6 years ago

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Compromise (Part One)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Bucky, Ex-Relationship, Co-Parenting Drama, Angst, Fluff

Summary: You didn’t want to trust him again, because every time you did, Bucky broke your heart just a little more. Deep down, though, you wanted to get along with him. You wanted to be amicable. You wanted your daughter to know her father. You’d always wanted that. It just required a compromise.

I really don’t need to be working on yet another WIP but here I am, like a clown!

It all started with some of the best sex you’d ever had in your life. You know the kind: rough and desperate. Needy. Passionate. The kind straight out of a romance novel, blazing hot and full of love. The kind that, even four years later, served as inspiration for your fantasies – even if you despised the man responsible.

No, that was a lie. You didn’t despise him. You just wished that you did.

It made your toes curl then, and the memory of it still did, even now. The only difference was that you used a toy. That was all you could do, because in between your job managing a small café and your three-year-old daughter’s care, you had zero time for dating. You were Winnie’s mother and primary caregiver, because of course you were.

Her father was the Winter Soldier, after all.

The two of you split when Winnie was just thirteen months old. Unsurprisingly, the court didn’t give Bucky custody, not when so much of his past was bound by red tape. You knew that it wasn’t his fault, the things he’d done, but you were still surprised he’d gotten anything at all. Not only was Avenging a dangerous line of work, but it was the exact reason why you’d left.

He only got to see her once a month, with supervised visits – visits that were much harder on you than on your daughter, but you put on a brave face just for her. Maybe some small part of it was for yourself, too. You were still in love with him – or with the idea of him, you weren’t sure anymore, but the fact remained that he chose his work over his new family out of some misguided idea of making up for the awful things he’d done.

He chose Steve. He chose Sam. He chose his past over his present.

Not you.

The visits were difficult, but manageable – when he even managed to show up, of course. It was about fifty-fifty whether or not he’d show, usually because of work and he often tried to reschedule last minute, which you eventually started to refuse. You and Winnie had a set schedule, and you’d be damned if you deviated from it because of him and his neverending excuses.

You did try, once. You tried to work with him, tried to empathize – at least until he rescheduled three Saturdays in a row and Winnie’s poor little heart shattered to pieces. She was inconsolable for weeks, and needless to say, you stopped trying after that. He didn’t deserve it, not when he hurt your young daughter so easily.

Your usual meet-up place was the small park near your house. There wasn’t much else around, anyway, not like inner city Manhattan which you so desperately missed. You couldn’t afford to live there on your meagre barista salary, so you moved shortly after your trainwreck of a break-up. Moving caused an even bigger rift between you and Bucky, one only worsened by heated arguments and nasty words.

Upstate was where you moved, about three hours away from the city.

Upstate was where Bucky was living now, too, about fifteen minutes from your home.

He broke the news during an impromptu lunchtime visit to your café, one you especially did not appreciate due to the fact that he’d shown up at your workplace. It was almost like he’d known you wouldn’t be able to leave, as you so often did when he tried to talk to you about anything. You always put on a smile for your daughter when you dealt with him, but she wasn’t here and you had no reason to be nice.

The mug in front of you sat untouched as you stared down at the coffee within, delicate latte art slowly melting away while you processed what he’d just said. He was going to be just a few miles down the road at the new Avengers facility, and though he didn’t say it outright, the implication was enough: he could come here anytime he wanted to; could pick Winnie up from preschool anytime he wanted to; could see her anytime he wanted to, court order be damned.

You’d been reduced to nothing more than a barrier keeping him away from his daughter – your daughter – and it stung. Then again, that was what you’d become. That was what you’d been forced to become, because of him.

A barrier.

A bitch.

“I want to see her more,” he told you, but his cordial tone did nothing to hide the thinly-veiled threat. “It’s been years since the last agreement. Things are different now.”

Don’t make me get a lawyer was what he meant.

What’s worse was that you knew he was right. He’d been cleared of all charges, and although his work wasn’t exactly ideal for childrearing, he earned much more money than you did. Not only that, but with the compound right down the road, there was no way he’d be denied this time. If the two of you went back to court, he’d get joint custody. Fifty-fifty. Equal. You knew it, and he did, too. He was forcing your hand.

“You barely make it to your monthly visits as it is,” you responded evenly, though inside you were about ready to scream. “How are things different, Bucky?”

“I’m close by. We’re training more Avengers, so my hours are flexible. I’ve already talked to Steve.”

Why couldn’t he have talked to Steve two years ago?

“I can show you around the compound, if that’s what you want. It’s better than the tower.”

You remembered the tower. You hated the tower. It was no place to raise a child, what with all the missions and the parties and the late-night take-offs which constantly woke Winnie from her sleep. The one good thing it had going for it was the security.

Somehow, he’d remembered your gripes. You couldn’t decide if you should be flattered or not.

“I’ve even got a spare bedroom for her now, sweetheart. Can’t we make this work?”

“Don’t call me that,” you finally snapped, to which Bucky held his hands up in a show of surrender. He didn’t offer an apology, but then again, you didn’t want one. You didn’t want any of this.

Except maybe you did.

You chewed your lower lip, coffee now long forgotten in favour of worrying about the future. You didn’t want to trust him again, because every time you did, he broke your heart just a little more.

Deep down, though, you wanted to get along with him. You wanted to be amicable. You wanted your daughter to know her father.

You’d always wanted that.

And if you didn’t, then the next step would be a lawyer. You didn’t have the time or the money for another custody battle, whereas Bucky had plenty of both and he certainly had no qualms about going down that route. This visit was just a last-ditch effort before he did.

“Fine,” you acquiesced through grit teeth, “but I want to see it first.”

“Yeah?” he asked, blue eyes wide with surprise.

For a moment, you were rendered speechless. God, you hadn’t seen him look at you like that in years. The last time probably would have been when you told him that you were pregnant with Winnie.

Even now, you were still so weak for him. You always managed to stay strong for your daughter, but never for yourself. You missed him, and, well, it wasn’t like you had a choice in the matter either way.

“Yeah,” you repeated, reluctant and hollow.

That weekend, you found yourself staring up at the gates to the compound in awe through the windshield of your small beater. The compound was indeed much larger than the tower had been; you couldn’t see much from the road, but there was plenty of acreage. Plenty of room for Winnie to run around and play, almost, if it wasn’t practically a military base.

When you pushed a button, the CCTV camera came to life, whirring as it likely zoomed in your faces through the side windows of your car. “Ma’am, this is the Avengers Facility. You might have the wrong—”

You abruptly interrupted him with your name, followed by, “And this is Winnifred Barnes. B-A-R-N-E-S.”

There was a long pause, then, as the guy on the other end seemed to realize who you were. Then he had an immediate change of tone. “Oh, that’s— that’s today! Right! I’m so sorry, ma’am!”

Ugh. You weren’t old enough to be a ‘ma’am.’

Were you?

After the gate started to open, you slowly made your way up the long driveway, humming quietly to yourself to calm your nerves. That was when Winnie started to sing along with you, the same off-key tune that the two of you often sang together in the bathtub. She’d never been a fan of baths, so you used the song as a distraction. Now it was supposed to be your distraction, but it didn’t work very well.

You parked next to a small fleet of shiny black cars with tinted windows, feeling just as out of place now as you did when you and Bucky were dating. You’d always made coffee for a living, while he was… him. How you even managed to make it work for nearly two years was beyond you, as brief and fleeting as your whirlwind romance had been.

“Is Daddy here?” Winnie asked excitedly, peering out the windows at the large complex of buildings. Her breath fogged up the glass and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Yes, baby,” you told her as you got out of the car and slung your purse over one shoulder, before you opened her car door. “Daddy’s here. We’ll see him soon.”

She bounced happily as you unbuckled her from her car seat, and then you hoisted her up onto one hip and shut the door with your free hand. After that, you slowly made your way up the steps to what you assumed was the main building.

Christ, this place was massive.

Just before you got to the top, the glass double doors up ahead were shoved open and there was Bucky in all his glory – tall and muscular, just like always, albeit almost out of breath. His hair was pulled back into a loose, messy bun, strands of hair framing his face in the familiar way you’d always loved, and the stubble on his face nearly made you swoon.

You hated that you were still attracted to him.

“Sorry, we’re a little early,” you admitted, nodding to your daughter. “Someone wanted to see you.”

As if on cue, Winnie shouted, “Daddy!” and reached out for him with her little arms, making grabby hands in his direction. She was so eager that you might have dropped her once, but you were used to her excitement.

Bucky met your eyes for a moment with a note of appreciation before he turned to her. Then and only then did the corners of his eyes crinkle up in a genuine smile – one directed at your daughter, not at you, one not meant to keep up a charade like the two of you were wont to do. That was the only type of smile he offered you, and that hurt, too.

“How’s my best girl?” he cooed, peppering her face with noisy kisses.

She giggled and half-heartedly tried to push him away. “Daddy, no! It’s scratchy!”

At that, he just rubbed his stubbly cheek against hers some more, lightly, not enough to hurt, and she squealed. He slid his hands under her arms with ease before he lifted her up and away from you, and although you knew he wasn’t being malicious, you always hated giving her up.

She just slung her tiny arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. It had been awhile since she’d seen him – probably about two months, now, and you didn’t blame her. You’d missed him, too.

“How was the drive?” he asked you, holding Winnie against his side as the three of you made your way inside. With his free hand, he held open the glass door for you.

“It was a whole twelve minutes,” you responded dryly, more joking than not. Twelve minutes was much better than the nearly three-hour commute from when he was living in the city; not that you had to make it very often, as it was usually his responsibility. “Not too bad. Thanks.”

You weren’t really sure what you were thanking him for. The door, maybe.

Bucky paused to study your face for a moment, hesitant, before he quickly lifted Winnie up onto his shoulders, adorable peals of laughter escaping her. The ceilings were tall enough to offer plenty of leeway, and she’d always enjoyed being able to see things from such a high vantage point, especially someplace new like this.

“I bet Auntie Nat will be so happy to see you, sweetpea,” you told her, more to fill the silence than anything else. Bucky sure looked like he wanted to say something to you. He had that same reluctant expression on his face, the very one that creased his brows and made your anxiety skyrocket.

Thankfully, he seemed to understand that you weren’t willing to discuss whatever it was yet, and instead chimed in, “She’s waiting for us upstairs, princess. Do you wanna go see her?”

“Yeah!” Winnie sounded incredibly chipper as she gripped two handfuls of Bucky’s hair in her small fists, almost like the reigns to a horse. “Let’s go!”

You stifled a laugh as she half-directed him where to go. The stairs were steeper than you anticipated, and by the time you reached the next floor, you were well and truly winded. The second flight was even worse; they were both already at the top by the time you got halfway there, because Bucky took them two or three at a time.

“Come on, Mommy!” Winnie cheered.

“I’m coming, baby,” you called out, holding onto the handrail for dear life. That wasn’t an exaggeration.

One step, two, then three and you finally made it there. It wasn’t that you were out of shape, exactly – except, well, you were. You’d never completely lost the extra weight that came along with having a child, and you definitely didn’t have the time to work out with all of your other responsibilities as much as you would have liked to.

Bucky’s eyes were soft on yours when you glanced over at him, to which you huffed and quickly looked away. Knowing he’d seen how out of shape you were was embarrassing enough.

“Where’s Auntie Nat?” Winnie asked, then, and you were never more grateful to her for it.

“She’s making lunch for us,” Bucky told her, gently placing a hand on your lower back to guide you in the right direction. When you froze up at the unexpected contact, he immediately pulled it away, like he’d only just realized what he’d done.

If your heart wasn’t already racing, it certainly would have been after that.

“How’s that sound, Win? Are you hungry?” you asked as the three of you walked into the large kitchen and living area. The open floor plan was full of expensive things you’d only ever dreamt of, no doubt courtesy of Tony.

“Yeah!” she responded happily, which soon became an excited shriek when she spotted Natasha spreading peanut butter onto a few slices of bread. On the marble countertop in front of her was also a jar of strawberry jam, Winnie’s favourite.

“Hi Winnie,” Natasha greeted. “Guess what I’m making?”

“Peanut butter jellies!” Winnie exclaimed, wiggling a little, clearly ready to get off of Bucky’s shoulders to properly say hi to Natasha. Predictably, he plopped her onto the floor with ease, and she did just that. The sound of her scampering across the unfamiliar tile brought a smile to your face. It almost sounded like home.

Natasha kept her entertained while you and Bucky watched in tense, uncomfortable silence. If nothing else, you were glad that Winnie was able to spend some time with her two favourite people. You, of course, weren’t one of them. You weren’t the fun parent. Bucky was.

“I’m sorry about the other day,” he said, then, softly enough that Winnie couldn’t hear.

You didn’t look at him, instead focusing on what was on the other side of the room: the two black leather sofas surrounding a large flat-screen TV mounted to the wall, with a lavish coffee table in front. All you noticed were the sharp corners and invisible price tags. You weren’t broke, exactly, but all of this was much nicer than you could afford.

“Don’t be,” you replied with a shrug. “She’d be over the moon if we had such a big TV at home.”

“I’m happy to give you more,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. “Why am I not surprised you’re still driving that car?”

At that, you shot him a look that clearly conveyed your displeasure, to which he met your eyes in challenge.

You didn’t want more money from him. You only accepted the bare minimum of child support because it was court-ordered, and even that was a blow to your pride. You and Winnie were managing just fine without the ridiculous sum of money that Bucky made whilst working with the Avengers.

“It still runs. Why would I get rid of it?”

“It’s not as safe as the newer models,” Bucky responded far too evenly for your liking. “You know that. Are you really going to let your pride get in the way of our daughter’s safety?”

“She’s fine,” you hissed. “Are you really going to do this right now?”

“Mommy? What’s wrong?” came your sweet little girl’s voice, then, and your bristly demeanour disappeared in an instant. You always did your best not to argue with Bucky in front of her, but every now and then he just had to push your buttons. This was one of those times.

“Nothing, honey,” you said with faux cheerfulness, walking over to the counter where she was now seated, jam smeared all over her cheeks and chin. “Mommy’s just hungry, that’s all. Can I please have a bite?”

Winnie just beamed and held out one half of her sandwich to you. That was when you noticed that Natasha had lovingly cut it into triangles, just as she always did, and your smile suddenly felt more real than it had in days.

After you took a bite, you brushed Winnie’s soft brown locks away from her forehead and left a kiss there. “Thank you. Now be a good girl for Auntie Nat, okay? Mommy and Daddy will be back soon.”

“Okay, Mommy,” she said so sweetly, you couldn’t help but give her another kiss. Then you shared a warning look with Natasha – almost as if to say keep her out of this – before you walked back over to Bucky.

Together, the two of you went back out into the hallway to finish the argument he started. You were already ready to rip his head off after his unexpected visit-slash-threat earlier in the week, not to mention the snide comment he’d just made about your ability to parent.

The moment the door shut behind you, you were in full attack mode, zero to sixty in no time whatsoever. “Damn it, how many times do I have to tell you not to pick a fight in front of her?”

“Well, maybe if you were more reasonable—”

“More reasonable? Maybe if you made an effort to actually show up every once in a while—”

“What the hell do you think I’m trying to do here, sweetheart? She’s three and I’ve barely seen her!”

“And whose fault is that?” you spat, jabbing your finger into his chest for emphasis, “You’re the one who’s always working, Bucky! You know how excited she gets, and whenever you let her down, I’m the one who has to try and make her feel better! I’m the one making promises you can’t keep!”

Bucky exhaled slowly, then, in a clear attempt to calm down. The two of you never used to fight like this, but ever since you moved away, things had been beyond tense and you’d long since been forced to recognize when he really was trying to control his temper.

Of course, things weren’t always so bad. There were days where both of you were at least somewhat amicable towards each other, maybe even friendly. In fact, this one seemed like it might have been heading in that direction – in the beginning, at least.

Then he finally spoke again, tone clipped, “Let me show you her room.”

Yeah, like seeing whatever he had in store would suddenly make you forget the last three years.

“Fine.”

Bucky led the way down a winding corridor on the same floor as the communal kitchen. You guessed that each floor probably had its own. The building itself was large and expensive as hell, more than anything you’d ever be able to afford. Just being here almost felt like a privilege.

You hated it. What you hated more was that you liked it. For Winnie, anyway. She deserved the world.

The door to Bucky’s apartment opened with a fingerprint scan, because of course it did. The technology reminded you of your shared suite in the tower once upon a time.

The apartment wasn’t anything impressive, more of a bachelor pad than anything, but at least it was clean. A grey suede sofa was the focal point, across from another large TV. Boys and their toys, you supposed. At least the coffee table in here had no sharp edges.

On the other side there was a small kitchenette – big enough for one person, but not necessarily two. Then again, Winnie didn’t eat nearly as much as an adult so that wasn’t really a problem.

Down the hallway, you spotted three doors: one on the left, one on the right, and one at the end. Bathroom, spare room, and his room. At least, that was what you assumed.

You were right.

The second you opened the door to the spare bedroom, your breath hitched in your throat. It wasn’t overly pink or girly like Winnie’s room at home, but you could immediately picture her living here. Not all of the time, because you did still want primary custody, but it was evident that Bucky had put a lot of thought and effort into this.

There was a twin bed up against one of the walls, with a small guardrail to prevent her from rolling onto the floor – just like at home, where she’d only recently moved into a big girl bed. The sheets were a delicate lavender, and the duvet matched perfectly, white and purple gingham print. At the foot of the bed was a grey fleece blanket, which you absentmindedly brushed your fingers against as you took everything in.

In one of the corners was a small white desk and chair, and on top of it was a stack of children’s books. She hadn’t yet learned how to read, not really, but she loved being read to at bedtime. As you skimmed through the stack, you noticed that a lot of the books were her favourites.

Then you spotted the stuffed animals.

There were a bunch of them, with tags in an assortment of languages. You didn’t even have to look to know that they were from different countries. Bucky must have been saving them for a while. He already knew you had too many at your house as it was; you’d ripped him a new one for it once already, because he liked to bring Winnie one whenever he got back from a mission. You had so many now that they covered her bed, and then some.

He still was picking them up on his missions, it looked like. He just hadn’t given them to her yet.

When you turned back to him, you found him leaning against the doorframe with a hopeful look on his face.

“How long—” Your voice broke, then, and you cleared your throat in an attempt to sound like you weren’t about to cry. It didn’t work. “How long have you been collecting these?”

“Over a year,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he nodded to the room itself. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

You let out a shaky breath, willing yourself not to cry in front of him. That didn’t work either.

“Oh, Bucky,” you sniffled. “She’ll love it.”

He hesitantly pushed off the doorframe when he noticed you were upset. “Are you crying?”

“No,” you blubbered, burying your teary face in your hands before he could get a good look.

Bucky wanted to be there for your daughter. At last.

You were beyond touched by all the work that had gone into this, and although you weren’t happy about his unspoken threat of legal action, you could finally see why. He cared about her. He cared about her just as much as you did. He just didn’t show it as well.

The way Bucky wrapped his arms around you was gentle, unsure, but when you leaned into him his hold on you tightened just a little. It had been far too long since you’d been held, for one, and for two, god it felt good to be held by him. You’d forgotten what it felt like to be in his arms.

You’d missed it – missed him.

That might have been why you finally managed to swallow your pride and ask, muffled and teary, “What car has the best safety features?”

When he pulled away just enough to look at you, he gave you a smile, the same kind where his eyes crinkled at the corners.

It was genuine.

Part Two / Master List

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #compromise

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itsamejin · 6 years ago

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leave me || suga angst

Part 2

Warning: Use of the word "bitch" once, cheating, toxic relationship, yoongi is bad, really angsty

Summary: He's cheating and you're aware. You just don't know what to do about it.

–

"[Y/N], something came up at the studio. I need to get back. Don't wait up for me."

It would've been nice, you thought, if he at least looked up from his phone's screen and had the decency to acknowledge your existence. He struggled to put his leather jacket on as he kept typing away with his right hand.

He didn't even try anymore.

You heard him grab the keys and you couldn't help but clench every single muscle in your body. It was infuriating how easy it was for him to ignore you. To ignore the dinner you made and the effort you put into cooking his favorite food.

With a lost appetite, you slammed down the spoon in your hand onto the dining table.

You heard the front door close and heaved out a large sigh. Yoongi knew you would wait for him anyways, so why bother even mentioning it?

Making your way to the kitchen sink, you wondered where it all went wrong. If it was more your fault or his. If there was even a good reason for him to treat you like a stranger.

After aggressively scrubbing the remnants of food away from your plate, you had made your way to the living room and settled down on the couch. It'd be your best friend until Yoongi came home from "work."

The channel surfing managed to distract you from the dark thoughts that frequented your mind, but only temporarily. Once they would surface, the negativity would start to flow. It would make you start to wallow in sadness, becoming a destructive force that you would later take out on Yoongi in another argument.

You wondered why you were even shocked. Yoongi had never been affectionate in the first place and he wasn't the most attentive. Maybe it's because he always made it up to you in the end. Whether it would be a fancy seaside dinner or a midnight picnic. He always confirmed his love when it felt like you needed it the most, but now it's all reserved for the other girl.

The "other girl" was a cheap nickname for a beautiful yet naive supermodel that probably didn't even know of your existence. Her name was Jieun, not that it mattered. She was just the other girl to you. She'd never be anything more or less than a person that Yoongi chose to prioritize over you.

Maybe he thought he was being smart when he changed her contact on his phone to "boss". Maybe he knew you overheard him saying "love you too" in that soft, pale voice while he was hanging out at the porch. Maybe there was no Jieun and you were just a paranoid girlfriend that couldn't stop the neverending doubts that surfaced for the past three months.

But you knew that wasn't the case, even if you wished that it was. You were smart and so was Yoongi. He sometimes made it obvious, probably so you could break up with him first. Make him look like the victim. You didn't want to give up that easily, but your patience was waning. It wasn't fair, not at all. Six years of putting up with his bullshit and it takes one beautiful woman to ruin all of it.

An hour into waiting, you found yourself in tears with the television blaring in the background and the photo albums of Yoongi and you scattered around the living room. It always came down to this on the lonelier nights.

One photo in particular always caught your eye. It was a pair of interlocking hands, one calloused yet beautiful and the other being yours. It was taken the day you exchanged promise rings. Yoongi never wore his anymore because of "a possibility of being caught" but it was all bullshit. Staring back and forth between the photo and the real accessory that adorned your index finger, you realized that there was a slight rusting. It reminded you of something familiar.

–

It would be another four hours of scrounging through the pages until you realized it was way past 2 AM and that Yoongi probably stayed over the other girl's home. You don't know why, but it hurt more that night than the other times you naively waited for him to come home.

–

Two days until you'd catch a glimpse of Yoongi again. He hadn't even acknowledged you when he walked into the shared apartment. He just set his leather jacket down and proceeded to take a shower in the guest bedroom's bathroom.

You didn't understand why he'd wanted to move in with you when the members' dorm was literally two floors above your own. That's one of the primary reasons you two never got caught. They all entered the building together, but Yoongi happened to live separately. It was a good idea in hindsight, but it felt like a burden having to see them and their disapproving gazes.

You were never particularly close to the members, in all honesty. You were pretty sure they disliked you. Probably afraid of the destruction you could do to Yoongi's career. The thought of that was odd, of course, considering you should be the one weary of them. You knew him longer and you knew he never wanted to be an idol. His dream was to be a producer- a soloist at most. Not some manufactured idol that was showcased by the very people he despised in society. In time, Yoongi changed and soon grew to accept his new image.

Maybe you should too.

–

It would be a week after Yoongi's last visit that reports would start to come out about Yoongi and Jieun's possible relationship.

It would take only a few hours for it to be confirmed by both sides. Maybe your heart should've felt more broken, but you were so beaten down by now that it didn't even matter.

You told yourself six years ago that he deserved someone that could keep him happy and you had to change if he no longer was.

But you know better now and that it wasn't you who needed to change to make the relationship work. It would be and should be up to him.

What you needed to do was leave him, never turn back and start a life where you didn't have to feel like an embarrassing secret. Where a man would love you with his whole being and never take you for granted. At one point, Yoongi was that person. But the Yoongi you love is not the Yoongi that currently exists.

–

It took all your strength to pack up the items you owned in the apartment. All of the couple items were thrown in a trash bag, including the promise ring he had hid in the back of his underwear drawer. Your ring was still perched around your index finger. Taking it off would only serve to hurt you more. You'd put it back in a box and seal it away when your love for Yoongi was permanently erased. For now it will remain stuck to you like a battle scar.

The plushies he gave you, the paintings you made of him, and the photo albums with six years worth of memories were all stuffed into the trash. With tears smeared on your shirt, you piled plastic bags over the items to hide what you've done. That there was nothing to see and you definitely hadn't thrown six years of your life away into a Hefty bag.

Your luggage was packed with a minimal amount of clothes and while it was your place to begin with, you found yourself leaving it all behind and in the posession of your cheating ex-boyfriend. The only remainder of him left on you besides the promise ring was a physical copy of an old, unproduced mixtape of his. One unreleased song was in it and it was the only thing from Suga that you knew was exactly dedicated for you. Because he rapped it to you over the phone before his very first performance. The lyrics of the song played in your head to torment your sanity even further.

Even if you leave me

Know that I'll still love you

Fate will have us find each other

And then you'll love me too

One last look at the living room and you were off. There was no reason to stay in a place you no longer felt welcomed in.

–

{8:32 AM}

Babe: [Y/N] Did you only do your laundry and not mine? My clothes are dirty as shit would it have killed for you to do an extra load?

{12:39 PM}

Babe: [Y/N] You've been gone for like a few hours now. You good? I didn't mean what I said about the laundry thing I take it back.

{5:32 PM}

Babe: for fucks sake. Where the hell are you???

{7:18 PM}

Babe: If this is about Jieun then I'd prefer you and I just talk about it rather than hiding like a fucking coward

{8:04 PM}

Babe: [Y/N] istg

{10:45 PM}

Babe: Stop ignoring me I know you're getting these messages

{11:01 PM}

Babe: [Y/N]

{11:02 PM}

Babe: [Y/N]

{12:23 AM}

Babe: If this is your way of breaking up with me then fine.

so fucking be it you bitch

–

AN: i deleted my hendery angst pt 2 accidentally so here's a suga angst i wrote so long ago and decided to polish up now. Look forward to more content soon~ (should this be a series?)

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notalone91 · 6 years ago

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All’s Well That Ends Well (To End Up With You)

Richie Tozier x Eddie Kasbrak (It: Chapter 2)

Richie and Eddie face their fears and, this time, Pennywise really doesn’t have anything to do with it.

tw: canon character death, momentary suicide contemplation, R for language.

a/n: Who let me have a new movie to be obsessed with? Fun Fact: I’ve had a lowkey crush on Bill Hader for a long time (like since EARLY in the SNL years...) and it sort of ebbs and flows and... uh... right now it’s HIGH FUCKING TIDE. You know what that means! Time to make the pretty man’s character cry!!!

"Next time, we pick regular scary," Richie yelled as they ran down the tunnels toward the cavernous space where the rest of the Losers were still- hopefully- fighting Pennywise.

Eddie gasped for breath, wishing for a moment that he hadn't just set his inhaler on fire. "Next time?!" he squawked, shoving him lightly, not wanting to even entertain the thought of having to do this again. In his mind, maybe, in twenty-seven more years, he'd be able to shake off the guilt of what had just happened upstairs. Sure, he was afraid. That's all well and good. Most of the time, fear keeps you on your toes. Fear gets moles checked. Fear's tire pressure is checked regularly and the spare is in perfect condition. Fear turns the NFC setting off before walking away from the register. Fear becomes a risk analyst because what else does it do. Fear is safe and ready and aware. Until you're battling a monster for whom fear is a teenage boy in a microwave snack commercial. Then, fear is a liability. It's a weapon you've forged but never get to wield. Fear is what gets you killed. "There had better not be a fucking next time. If there's a next time, we're all dead."

"Stop saying that, man," Richie said, tugging his still skittish friend into a small branch-off from their path. He struggled to pull his arm away and get back to the rest of their group but was fairly easily restrained. If there was one thing that his newfound memories had instilled in Richie, it was that their best shot at this shithead was together. "You weren't-"

"I was! I was going to let you die!" As he said them, the impact of his words hit Eddie like a ton of bricks. The shock and hurt on Richie's face was payment in kind. He folded his arms and took a step back, looking at the ground. "I froze. It had you and I couldn't..." He trailed off. His memory hadn't come back as clearly as the others yet. He wasn't sure what a lot of what was coming back to him meant. Soft touches, shared glances, hushed whispers mixed with the normal smacks and eye rolls and jokes about his mother. The only thing that was clear about it was the knot that developed in his stomach whenever he looked at Richie. There was something there. And not the bonds of escaping death. He certainly didn't get this feeling when he looked at Bill or Bev. This was different. Watching it set its sights on Richie, he felt himself completely detach from reality. "I couldn't..."

Richie absentmindedly dug his fingers into his elbow. “What, Eds? You were scared! This whole thing is nuts!” He turned and started to pace, adjusting his glasses every time they began to slip. “I am pretty sure if we hadn't all done this before, we'd have shit our pants and got the fuck out of dodge. You were stabbed in the face, for fuck's sake.” His movements began to calm and he stared at him, gauze covering the too-fresh wound on his cheek.

“Yeah. And then what?” Eddie spat, staring at his feet and cradling himself tighter. “I'd be the guy who watched the only person he's ever loved get torn apart by some fucking spider version of...” Just like in the movies, he could almost hear the record scratch to a stop and the glass shatter. He had not meant to say that. He was married. His life was in New York and Richie’s was in L.A. and what difference did it make if he’d loved him when he was twelve? His heart raced, betraying his panic, but all he could manage was a whispered “Fuck.”

The tunnel grew eerily silent. The two men stared at each other, willing the other to speak. Richie couldn’t believe it.

Over the years, he’d grown used to being alone. Sometime since returning to Derry, he’d realized he’d been leaving room for Eddie to come back into his life. He’d always look for someone’s reaction to his jokes, even alone. Part of why he never wrote his own material was because no one on his team got them. His assistants tried. They really tried. Time, now, made it all so clear. He’d spent the last twenty-seven years trying to replace him. Even moments before, his fears had manifested themselves as a closet. How typical. An aging queer literally terrified of a fucking closet. Nothing had changed. He’d let himself repress that whole aspect of himself because what difference did it make, truly, if Eddie wasn’t by his side?

He blinked back a few tears, finally finding his voice, breathless though it may have been. “You loved me?”

Eddie spluttered a few times but he couldn’t make himself clarify what he’d said. Truthfully, it hadn’t required any clarification. It was out there in the open and he’d said it and, terrified though he was he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. If only it hadn’t been while standing ankle-deep in grey water and feet away from a physical manifestation of their deepest, darkest fears. He simply snapped his mouth shut and silently pleaded for him to drop it.

“Eds?” Richie asked again, taking a step closer to him. He reached his hand out and rested it gently on Eddie’s arm.

As though scalded, he retracted his arm and turned away, shouting, “We don't have time for this!” He could feel the flush of his cheeks and praised whatever God was looking over this godless place for the light not quite reaching them.

Having exactly none of his aversions this time, Richie chased after him. “God damn it, Eddie! We could both die down here and if it's my last chance to hear you say it, I want to hear it!” He clasped his hands around Eddie’s arms and shook him lightly. “Just fucking say it!” Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, beginning to fall freely. “I need to hear you say it!” he begged.

Eddie shrugged him off and backed away, the familiar fear rising up in his throat. “Hear what? 36 hours ago, neither of us remembered who the other was!”

“Fuck! Do I have to say it first?” Richie conceded, backing himself against the wall for support. “I love you.” His words were more of a shout than he’d have liked. They echoed around the cave, trying to make up for lost time. The power of his voice shocked them both a little. Richie wrapped his arms around his middle and stared at his feet, unable to look him in the eye. “I've loved you since we were kids. I've loved you since before I was old enough to actually know what that meant. Jesus,” he sighed, resting his head against the wall, “for the past 27 years, there's been this stupid void that I could never fill.” He finally managed to bring his eyes to Eddie. He took a step toward him and reached out to swat his arm. “It was you, fucker.” He gave a bittersweet smile and shook his head, almost unable to believe how long it had taken him. “You and your stupid hypochondria and your answers for everything and your neverending...” When his eyes met Eddie’s, he startled himself. Eddie’s expression didn’t come across as pleased or anything even remotely positive. All Richie could see was fear and immediately, he began berating himself for even mentioning it. He sucked in his lips and threw his hands up in defeat. “You know what? Forget it. We all will soon enough anyway.”

A pressure built in his chest as he watched the moment begin to slip away, and this time, it wasn’t an asthma attack. “No!” Eddie whimpered, moving toward him and catching his hands, pulling him in closer. “I won't forget.” He brought the taller man’s hands to rest around his neck and cupped his jaw, realizing for the first time how much lighter his eyes had gotten over the years. “Not this time,” he assured, leaning up to bridge the gap between them with a deep kiss that should have happened years earlier.

Richie nearly fell backward at the sudden force. He let his hands weave into his neatly coiffed hair and disheveled it in a way he’d wanted to for ages. He’d forgotten so much but now... Now, he was sure he’d remember this forever, not that he planned on having to. There’d be time. So much time. But for the time being, this would have to wait. When he reopened his eyes and took him in, he realized something off. “Were you on your tippy-toes, Eds?” he asked, laughing gently.

With an abrupt sigh, Eddie rolled his eyes and gave him a light shove. “Oh, shut up,” he laughed, pulling him in again by the edges of his shirt and kissed him once more. He smiled against his lips, despite himself, and muttered “Asshole.”

“I mean, it's cute,” Richie said, straightening up and letting his hands fall to the small of his back, “you have to reach for your prize.” He puffed out his shoulders dramatically like he was some sort of amalgamation of Prince Charming and Superman all wrapped into one.

“Fuck you,” he said, pushing off of him and starting to, with newfound confidence, walk back to where the rest of the Losers were fighting a much more tactile set of fears. “And don’t call me ‘Eds,’“ he called over his shoulder.

Richie let his gaze linger on Eddie a little longer than he’d ever done so intentionally, willing his memory to cling to every last inch of him. Then, he started walking slowly behind him. His stomach formed a tight knot as his mind settled on what they were about to do.

Before they reached the mouth of the tunnel, Eddie paused for a moment, letting Richie pass him. “Hey, wait,” he called. Despite the chill coursing over him, he realized there was something he hadn’t really said.

“What?” Richie asked, turning back to face him.

Eddie reached his hand for him and laced their fingers together, marveling at how right it felt. “I love you, too.” He smiled up at Richie and wrapped his free arm up around his neck, breathing him in. Richie pressed his cheek against the top of his head. Neither wanted to admit the overwhelming dread they were holding in. At least dread wasn’t fear.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Richie heard a voice in the back of his mind. It was Eddie, when they were young. They were standing in the middle of the road in front of the house at 29 Neibolt Street two weeks before Georgie disappeared. Bill had insisted on a hybrid game of Truth or Dare and Ding Dong Ditch, bored of their normal antics. Stanley had already had his turn, having to ditch from the charred house on Harris Avenue. He sat leaning against the handlebars of his bike and watched smugly as Eddie made his way up the path. He got about halfway to the door and froze, staring at an upstairs window. “This is fucking insane! I'm not staying here another minute.” He turned around and hopped back on his bike, sending a booming “Fuck you guys!” over his shoulder.

“Hey, Eddie, wait up!” Richie called to him and sped off in pursuit, laughing a little at his friend. After all, it was just a house.

It was just a house.

It was just a house that led to the center of Derry’s sewer system. It was just a house that was possessed by an evil shape-shifting clown. It was just a house where they kept having ridiculous near-death experiences. It was just a house where Pennywise had nearly taken Richie with the deadlights just moments prior. It was just a house where Eddie had mustered up his courage and freed him from the grasp of it. It was just a house where the fucking clown had impaled Eddie, spraying his blood all over Richie.

“Richie,” Eddie groaned, falling onto his side with a thud.

Clamoring to be next to him, not even noticing the amount of blood that had been spilled onto him, he started trying to put pressure on the gaping wound in the center of his chest. “Ed!” He scooted closer, taking the man in his arms, shaking, trying desperately not to make things worse.

A shaky breath carried out his name. “Richie...” His hands searched to grasp onto his shirt. He clung to Richie, as though it would keep him.

Tears fell quickly from Richie’s stunned eyes. “Eds, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you,” he said. He appraised the wound for a moment and looked up at his friends for a moment, pleading for one of them to say it wasn’t that bad; that everything would be fine. “You’re alright. We’re gonna get you out of here.” He stared at the pooling blood under his hands and ignored it.

That was the key, wasn’t it? If he believed that Eddie would be okay, he would be. If he ignored it, it was simply a trick. It was one of Pennywise’s mind games. It was nothing. They’d get him out of here. They had to.

“I got him, Richie. I- I got him,” he stammered, as a drop of blood began to form at the corner of his mouth.

Richie smiled, trying his best not to let his expression show even a trace of the panic that was building in his chest. There was nothing any of them could do for him, at least not down here. “You did, Eds. You got him good.”

Every breath Eddie took seemed to be more shallow and more pained than the last. They had to get him out of here. Richie placed his hand on Eddie’s cheek fondly, forcing him to stay focused on him with an encouraging nod. “Now, let’s get you moving.”

Eddie groaned with effort but couldn’t do much to get himself off the ground. Richie slid himself under his arm and moved to act as a crutch. “Bill, help me out here.” Their friend stared at them, unmoved, paralyzed by the shock of how everything had unfolded. He held a little tighter to a sobbing Bev but didn’t so much as acknowledge that he was being called for. Richie shook his head and looked up at the next person. “Ben?” No response but a pitiful shake of his head. Richie couldn’t understand why no one would help him. He shot a pleading stare at Mike who steeled his jaw and pawed at his eyes. He turned back to him and let his hands linger a little too long, a little too gently. “Alright, Eds, on the count of three,” he said and leaned down to let him grip tightly around his neck.

“Don’t call me Eds, fuckface,” he whispered. Richie gave a soft laugh and dug his hands into the back of Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie knew, deep down, that he wasn’t going to make it out of this cave, but he wouldn’t let Richie think he was giving up. In reality, he just wanted him to hold him until he was gone. He supposed he would take what he could. He wrapped his arms around him in as much of a hug as he could. Eddie pressed his face into Richie’s neck and took a deep breath. He nodded and made a soft noise that Richie took to mean “I’m ready.”

Richie took a deep breath and said, as confidently as he could, “Alright. One... Two...”

From behind him, a shrill voice teased along “One... Two...”

Pennywise. It was still alive. He could vaguely hear his friends screaming as the clown sprung to life “Shit," he hissed, trying desperately to wrench him from the ground so they could make their getaway.

“Shit is right, Richie," the old clown sing-songed. "You want all your little friends to find out what you’re hiding?" He twitched his fingers toward the pair and then continued to extend until they were nearly touching Richie. He stumbled back, maneuvering Eddie just out of the clown’s reach and scrambled in front of him. "What’s that behind your back? The boyfriend you’ll never get to have?”

Regaining his focus on the moment, Richie stood and chased the elongated fingers to the hand to which they belonged. “Listen here you fucking pile of antique used colostomy bags,” he yelled, “there is nothing you can say to me that will make me think you’re anything but an intergalactic crybaby!” As he landed the last word of the sentence, the clown began to take the form of a giant baby.

As the group’s insults grew, the being shrunk and they realized the power of their words. The smaller they could make him, the more likely it was that they’d win. They believed they could and they did. When they’d finally turned the little shit into the tiniest thing they could, Eddie and Bill reached in together and tore out his shriveled, still-beating heart. One by one, the Losers hands joined together and they crushed the core of It’s being until finally, they’d won.

Richie turned back to face Eddie and tell him they’d done it; that Pennywise was gone forever. It hadn’t all been for nothing. He went to call out his name, but the word stuck in his throat at the sight of his vacant, unfocused stare and still chest. Richie ran the few steps to his side and slammed to his knees, putting pressure on the wound that had stopped bleeding. He grasped desperately at Eddie’s shirt, his face, his hair, he shook him a little, trying to rouse him. Even as Bev kneeled behind him, trying to make him see reason, his hearing swirled to nothing. All he could focus on was the pattern of his own breathing, his own heartbeat, and the search for any sign of that on Eddie. Tears made his vision swim. Once more, he thought to himself that they should have split right away.

Just like that, he was in The Derry Townhouse with Eddie, safe and fleeing to anywhere that Pennywise wasn’t. Richie peeked his head out of his room into the hallway and let his voice carry across into his friend’s room. “You got everything?” he asked. Ever since Mike had made his reasons for bringing them all back to this place they hadn’t even remembered existed until the day before, the group had been in panic mode. They were all scrambling to head back to the lives they’d made for themselves in Anywhere But Derry. For whatever reason, he and Eddie had clung to one another, even then. They were remembering being close. There was tension between them. Something unspoken, maybe even when they were kids.

“I think so,” Eddie called back to him amidst the whir of zippers and the thudding of luggage.

“Alright,” he called, heading down the stairs with his duffel and laptop slung over his shoulders, spinning the keys to his rental car in his hand. “Autobots, roll out!”

Eddie took one last lap of his room to make sure he had everything. He patted down his pockets and made a mental check. “Keys? No keys, took a cab, leaving with Richie,” a curious smile tugged at his mouth as he said the name. He paused, stricken by the reaction but he didn’t take the time to analyze that. “Wallet, phone, inhaler, bags...” He took a deep breath and gathered his belongings. For just the slightest of moments, he stopped and acknowledged the rushing of his blood away from his stomach accompanied by a spike of adrenaline. Butterflies. His fight or flight mode was on high and that was the only reason for it. There was nothing else that could possibly be making him panic. Unless he was, as he suspected, sensitive to gluten and it wasn’t nerves but too much Chinese food.

“Rápido, Eduardo. Ándale, ándale!” Richie called, knocking on the downstairs wall and pulling him from his mental quicksand.

Forcing himself from the memory, Richie broke into sobs, burying his face into Eddie’s chest. As the rest of his friends fought to pull him to his feet, he begged to take him with them; not to leave him down in the sewers in the dark. As soon as he thought he’d convinced them, the chamber began to shudder and crumble. Richie found himself glued to the spot. He couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t. They were supposed to leave together. He’d just admitted that he loved him. After all these years, he was supposed to have a chance to finally see... no. No, if this was where Eddie was going to stay, this was where Richie was going to stay, too. And he would have, too, if the other four hadn’t banded together to force him to move. They ran along the tunnels and up out of the cistern into the house on Neibolt and through the doors just in time for the entire building to collapse in on itself, vanishing into the ground and sealing Eddie in with the source of generations of suffering. As the house began to cave, so, too, did Richie’s will to go on. He lunged to go back in but was restrained by Ben and Mike until his body gave way. He strained and scratched and kicked until he couldn’t find the strength to do it anymore. He dropped to the ground and screamed Eddie’s name until his throat was raw. It was no use. He was gone. It was over.

Eventually, the Losers managed to get themselves together enough to walk to the quarry and clean themselves off. As the group waded in the cool water, Richie focused on the blood all over him- had it really been so much? How could he have thought, even for a moment, that a person could survive all of that? As he focused on his glasses, he turned to make a snide remark about the germs to Eddie and realized, once more, that the blood was his. He wouldn’t be able to hear the quip. The survivors merged in on each other, clinging together for strength.

A few days later, Richie made one more stop on the way out of Derry. He put the mustang in park and eased out onto the little covered bridge over the creek in the woods. He strode along the barricade, looking at years of graffitied carvings, each a testament to a love that had encountered Derry’s unique brand of torture. He wondered how many of the couples were still together; if any of them had been torn apart by Pennywise.

Finally, he stopped and gave a bittersweet smile as he saw what he was looking for. A jagged R + E. Small, vague, but there nevertheless. 27 years later and his innocent pining had left an impact. Of course, it had. Love always leaves an impact, whether you’re 12 or pushing 40.

“I was gonna let you die!” echoed Eddie’s voice in Richie’s head for the millionth time since the tunnels. It had become almost a taunt.

“You should have,” Richie whispered, lowering to his knees and resting his head on the railing. “You should have let me die. We all still fucking remember and you're not here.” The memories weren’t fading. Last time, as soon as they’d gotten out, things got fuzzy. By the time they made their blood pact, he could hardly remember the specifics of what had happened. This time, though... This time, he could still remember every moment. Every single one. Specifically, though, the warmth of Eddie’s kiss and the blank stare he wore in death haunted his every thought since. “If you were gonna die, you should have let me die, too, he said.

Richie took his old pocket knife out of his pocket and flipped it open, considering it for a moment. He tested the tip against his hand and watched as blood beaded at the tip. It would be so easy, he thought, to just drag the blade against his wrists and throw himself into the water. Then, he could be with Eddie again. Closing his eyes, he blinked out a few hot tears, then covered his face in his hands. As much as he didn’t want to live life in a world where Eddie wasn’t, he could just imagine the look on his face if, after everything they’d gone through, he appeared in the afterlife having put himself there. He wiped the tears from his eyes and refocused on what he’d come all the way out here to do.

Retracing the letters, he deepened the markings, ensuring that, on some level, they’d be able to stay together for posterity. The set of freshly carved initials in weathered old wood was not a fair proxy for the love they’d never had the chance to share, but at least it was out there as proof that, no matter what happened from that moment forward, that Richie Tozier loved Eddie Kaspbrak.

#reddie #adult richie #adult eddie #richie tozier #eddie kasbrak #it #it chap 2 #stephen king's it #my hand slipped #this hurted

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ink-logging · 6 years ago

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Detective Comics #1000, Chris Conroy & Dave Wielgosz, eds.: I bought this on impulse because it was on the new releases shelf and people were talking about Batman online. It’s a 100-page anthology tribute for the Batman character’s 80th year and the one thousandth issue of “Detective Comics”. I don’t think anyone is ever at their best in a tribute anthology, but that makes them kind of interesting to look at, you know? There are eleven stories, which I will now spoil in their entirety.

1. “Batman’s Longest Case”, Scott Snyder, Greg Capullo, Jonathan Glapion, FCO Plascencia, Tom Napolitano: The first of two stories in which Batman is doing something that looks grim, but is actually happy and anniversary-ish - both with similar titles, and both from major Batman writers. This is the better one, because I think Capullo is an interesting artist. He’s comparable to Jae Lee, in that he’s someone who had some work in comics under his belt prior to being ushered into the second ‘generation’ of popular Image artists, and has continued to evolve quite vividly over the years. The Capullo of today dials up the use of shadows and silhouette that used to sort of decorate the folds of Spawn’s flowing cape and such - here, they’re used more to focus attention on storytelling fundamentals: geography; gesture; etc. I also generally like the colorist, FCO Plascencia, who’s done some Varleyesque color-as-mood work on earlier comics with this team, though the story here is subdued... very classy, dressed for the gala.

Hints of ‘90s grotesquerie only pop up once Batman has solved a large number of flamboyantly abstruse riddles and discovered that the titular Longest Case is really an initiation test fronted by wrinkly old Slam Bradley, the original Siegel & Shuster-created star of “Detective Comics” back in 1937, who welcomes Batman to a Guild of Detection. This is clever of the writer, Scott Snyder, because Batman as a basic concept is hugely derivative of earlier pulp, detective and strip hero characters - and, if you’re being honest about paying homage to the character’s origins, you might as well play up lineage as your metaphor.

2. “Manufacture for Use”, Kevin Smith, Jim Lee, Scott Williams, Alex Sinclair, Todd Klein: In contrast, this story shoots for the quintessential. Smith, of course, is the filmmaker and longtime geek culture celebrity who’s written comics off and on, so maybe it’s his distance from the continuum of superhero writing that has inspired a short story that could have run as a backup in any Batman comic since the 1970s, give or take few cultural references. Matches Malone (Batman, when he is being an undercover cop) descends into the secretive world of true crime memorabilia to buy the gun that killed Bruce Wayne’s parents, which he then melts down to form the metal bat-symbol plate Batman wears on his chest, verily steeling his heart with the memory of this tragedy to fortify him in his neverending battle against crime! NANANANANANANANA BATMAAAAAN! Jim Lee and his usual crew makes everything look like it’s ‘supposed’ to, provided you see this type of statuesque posing as the best sort of superhero art, which many DC comics readers presumably do, given how a lot of these things look.

3. “The Legend of Knute Brody”, Paul Dini, Dustin Nguyen, Derek Fridolfs, John Kalisz, Steve Wands: Dini has written tons of comics, with not a few of those drawn by Nguyen, but this feels mostly like DC1k (acronym’s resemblance to “DICK” a purely innocuous reference to Nightwing, I assure you) acknowledging the extensive legacy of “Batman: The Animated Series”, on which Dini was a writer and producer. The story takes the form of a biography of an infamously clumsy hired thug for supervillains, whom even the most novice reader will have figured out is a Batman Family asset about halfway down page 4 of 8, leaving a whole lot of laborious and narration-heavy slapstick to wade through. Admittedly, this might work better as an animated cartoon, with voice acting leavening the pace of the gags, but I’m also not sure ‘this would be better in a different art form’ is the impression superhero comics should be giving right now.

4. “The Batman’s Design”, Warren Ellis, Becky Cloonan, Jordie Bellaire, Simon Bowland:

Most of the drawing in DC1k is the kind of stuff you can easily trace to a few popular and fairly narrow traditions of ‘realistic’ superhero art. Becky Cloonan is the only woman to draw an entire comic in here -- Joëlle Jones co-pencils a story with Tony Daniel later on, and Amanda Conner does a pinup, mind -- and her work is the only place in this book where you catch glimpses of a global popular comics beyond the superhero provinces in the Hewlettian wild eyes of the hapless human opponents of her Batman, lunging through velvet layers of cape and smoke, lipless mouth parted on a shōnen ai jaw. It is really very impressive.

The writer, Warren Ellis, does a pathos-of-the-hard-man story, in which Batman explains his combat strategies via narration while carrying them out, occasionally making reference to the medical bills his prey will incur and their timely motivations as terroristic white men who feel ignored by the world, and at the end Batman asks the last guy U WANT TO LIVE IN MY NIGHTMARE, LITTLE BOY and the guy is like n- no dr. batman sir, and gives up because Batman’s is too dangerous and scary a life model. It is made clear from the text that Batman has programmed himself into a system of reactionary violence that he inevitably reinforces, but this message is so heavily sugared with cool action and tough talk that the reader can easily disregard such commentary, if so inclined, which has been a trait of Ellis’ genre comics writing since at least as far back as “The Authority” in the late 1990s. It fits Batman as naturally as the goddamned cowl.

5. “Return to Crime Alley”, Dennis O’Neil, Steve Epting, Elizabeth Breitweiser, ‘Andworld Design’: I was surprised that there weren’t other writers from across the Atlantic in DC1k, given the extensive contributions of Alan Grant and Grant Morrison to the character. I was maybe not as surprised to see Dennis O’Neil as the lone credited writer to pre-date the blood and thunder revolution of Frank Miller et al. in the mid-1980s, as that commercial shadow is far too long to escape. Of course, O’Neil was one of the architects of superhero comics as a socially relevant proposition and Batman as a once-again ‘serious’ character in the 1970s, and it may be a reflection of his standing as a patriarch that this story contains no sugar whatsoever: on the anniversary of his parents’ death, Batman is confronted by a childhood caregiver who has figured out his dumb secret identity, and castigates him for doing stupid shit like dressing up as an animal and punching the underclass when he could actually do something as a wealthy man to improve the world. Then Batman starts beating the shit out of young masked teens who have stolen a gun, after which Batman, who is also a masked thug, is told that he is, at best, a figure of pity. The end!

What emerges from this story, to my eye, is that Batman is a terrible fucking idea if examined with any sort of serious realism - and Steve Epting draws the story as close to photorealism as anything in this book gets. I also think it is not insignificant that O’Neil, the writer here most unplugged from superhero comics as a commercial vocation, is the one to make these observations; to believe in superhero comics is to understand that there is play at the heart of these paper dolls, and to make your living from these things is to contemplate new avenues for play. Maybe Batman is dark, obsessive! Should he... kill? Sure, Bill Finger made him kill. The Shadow killed lots of dudes. So did Dick Tracy. Ramp up the verisimilitude too much, though, and you’ve got a guy wearing a hood going out by the cover of night to scare the shit out of superstitious cowards who’ve been taking from the good people of society, which, in terms of motivational narratives, is the same origin as the Ku Klux Klan. To play nonetheless, is the craftsman’s burden.

6. “Heretic”, Christopher Priest, Neal Adams, Dave Stewart, Willie Schubert: Meanwhile, on the other side of the coin, is veteran Batman artist and frequent Dennis O’Neil collaborator Neal Adams. And while Adams is not credited as the writer on this story, it bears all the hallmarks of his 21st century work at DC: whiplash pacing; uneasy expository dialogue; and eager callbacks to Adams’ earlier work. This is the Batman comic as a continuity-driven adventure, and I found it largely incomprehensible as a story, not unlike Adams’ recent “Deadman” miniseries. I still like his husky Batman, though.

7. “I Know”, Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, Josh Reed: Hey, did you know Brian Michael Bendis, writer of approximately ten and one half zillion Marvel comics, is writing comics at DC these days? Here he teams with longtime collaborator Maleev for a story that brings to mind the old line from Grant Morrison’s & Dave McKean’s “Arkham Asylum” about Batman being the real person and the guy under the mask being the mask. The Penguin, of all villains, figures out Batman’s secret identity, but elects not to pursue Bruce Wayne in his private life, because destroying Bruce Wayne would create a pure Batman far too dark and twiztid for anyone to handle. Or, maybe that is all just an image the perfectly sane Batman has deliberately encouraged as part of his umpteenth contingency plan. I would argue that this is a gentle spoof of people taking Batman too seriously, which clicks with what I’ve read of Bendis’ idea of the character in those 100-page comics they sell at Walmart: a globetrotting detective-adventurer, appropriate for all ages. Bear in mind, I’ve read maybe 0.2% of all Brian Bendis comics.

8. “The Last Crime in Gotham”, Geoff Johns, Kelley Jones, Michelle Madsen, Rob Leigh: Whoa, now we’re talking! Kelley Jones! Just look at this:

Such totally weird stuff, coming from the artist who drew all those classic ‘90s covers with the huge bat-ears and wildly distorted musculature, the cape this absurd, unreal shroud. It looks like he’s working from photo reference with some of this comic, but also just tearing out these drawings of huge jawlines and shit, this total what-the-fuck-is-going-on haze, which perfectly matches Geoff Johns’ furiously ridiculous story about an elderly Batman and his wife, Catwoman, and their daughter, and Damian, and a dog, who all investigate a mass murder that turns out to be the Joker’s son committing suicide, and then Batman unplugs the Bat-Signal because crime is over in Gotham forever, and then we find out it’s all the birthday wish of Batman, who is blowing out the candles on his birthday cake, in costume, in the Batcave. Is “Doomsday Clock” like this? Should I pirate it??

9. “The Precedent”, James Tynion IV, Alvaro Martinez-Bueno, Raul Fernandez, Brad Anderson, Sal Cipriano: Inevitably, we come to the story that argues that Batman is actually a great guy, and his pressing of children into action as vigilantes under the cover of night is an amazingly positive thing. This is what I mean by “play” - it doesn’t literally make sense, we all know that, but if you buy into the superhero idea, you can buy into this universe of metaphor where the Batman Family is a vivification of finding your company of people, and belonging, and being loved. Lots of talk in here about snatching young people out of the darkness and forging them in light, and helping them find a better path - it sounds like Batman is signing these kids up for the Marine Corps, which is one of several organizations that recognizes the power of these arch-romantic impulses.

10. “Batman’s Greatest Case.”, Tom King, Tony S. Daniel, Joëlle Jones, Tomeu Morey, Clayton Cowles: This is just unbearable. Oh god, what absolute treacle. It’s the second story in this book about Batman being serious and mysterious, but it turns out something nice is going on - he really just wants a photo of the whole Batman Family, because he lost his family when his parents got shot, but then he cracked his greatest case by finding a new family, which is the Batman Family!

All of this is communicated via clipped dialogue in which various Batman Family superheroes trade faux-awkward quips and cutesy ‘moments’ that are supposed to embody the endearing traits of the characters, but read as the blunt machinations of art that is absolutely desperate to be liked. This is art that is weeping on my shoulder and insisting I am its friend, and I want to get away from it, immediately. Tom King is the most acclaimed superhero writer of this generation, and I can only presume his better work is elsewhere.

11. “Medieval”, Peter J. Tomasi, Doug Mahnke, Jaime Mendoza, David Baron, Rob Leigh:

Finally, we have the obligatory story-that-leads-into-next-issue’s-serial, thereby demonstrating that Batman endures. It’s done as a series of 12 splash pages, depicting Batman in battle with his greatest foes, and it benefits immeasurably from the presence of artist Doug Mahnke (some inks by Jaime Mendoza), whose been a favorite of mine since those early, blood-splattered issues of “The Mask” at Dark Horse decades ago. Broadly speaking, Mahnke is working in a similarly muscular vein as many contributors to DC1k, but his sense of composition, of spectacle -- that boot-in-the-face energy the British call thrill-power -- adds an important extra crackle, and an element of humor; his Batman looks like a hulking maniac dressed in garbage bags, beating the shit out of monster after leering monster. What we are seeing is the fevered imagining of a new villain, the Arkham Knight (a variant of a character introduced in a video game), whom writer Peter J. Tomasi characterizes via the old trick of having the villain narrate to us a bunch of familiar criticisms of the hero, which the hero will presumably react to and overcome, or acknowledge in an interesting way, or something, in future installments. This probably would have worked better if other stories in this book hadn’t already made a lot of the same points in a manner that is not an advertisement for the rebuttal of those points... or if I were even capable of reading a story like this without imagining a final dialogue bubble coming in from off-panel going “SIR, THIS IS A BURGER KING DRIVE-THRU.” But something’s gotta go in issue #1001.

-Jog

#JogList

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fangirlingwhileblacktarot · 8 years ago

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You Have Created A Monster

Summary: Dean x Reader, fluff, kid-related fluff, fluff w/ some angst. You are temporarily incapacitated and Dean offers to help you with a task. Sam is around as well.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

Trigger Warnings: Mention of a chronic, painful injury, physical disability, single-parent issues, death of a loved one

Word Count: 1900-ish

A/N: This is for Taylor aka @impalaimagining’s “Things Nobody Likes Challenge” in honor of her Birthday! My prompt is “styling hair”. Thank you Taylor for your awesome beta-reading skills and Happy (Pre-) Birthday!!

Even after you insisted that you could manage alone, Dean and Sam had stuck around for a couple of days. Dean even showed you some extra kindness by offering to help you shower, before you declined (with some hesitation). The braces on both wrists were supposed to ease your ongoing carpal tunnel pain. Consequently, being nearly squeezed to death by the snake-like tendrils of an Echidna monster hadn’t helped your situation.

You were honestly having a pity party, yourself as the Guest of Honor. You were a grown-ass woman, used to doing everything yourself and most things for other people, including Maya, your six-year-old daughter. The current obstacles was styling her hair before an important visit. With the numbness in your fingers, the weakness in your arms, it was difficult to just make a straight part through her forest of dark, unruly curls. In frustration, you directed her to go watch her favorite tv show and laid back on the bed, accepting defeat.

Minutes later, there was a rhythmic knock at the door.

“You better be careful letting Maya hang with Sam,” Dean said after opening the door. “He’s telling her about The Neverending Story and the Dark Crystal. It’s an old-school nerd takeover. We better get in there before it’s too late.”

“He also introduced her to The Care Bears,” you said in Sam’s defense.

“Yeah - those things are pure evil. Nothing can be that happy all the damn time.”

Dean was dressed in a midnight blue t-shirt and jeans. His feet were bare on your hardwood floor, and his hair was still wet from the shower. You tried to ignore the delicious, toned muscles of his arms and attempt blindness to how good he looked in your bedroom.

“Oh, she’ll be fine. I’m the one who always ends up hurt when you guys show up.”

You were aware of how whiny you sounded, but you didn’t care.

“And we always save your butt. Like when an Echidna is going for the kill,” he reminded you. He was not having any of your bullshit that day. There would be no pity parties on his watch. “Besides, I think you like me patching you up. There are better, less dangerous ways to get me to touch you, Y/N. You can cut out the middle-man, or monster, in this case.”

“Maybe another time, like when my ex’s mother isn’t on her way to pick up my child. That woman is not my biggest fan, you know.”

“She’s obviously not right in the head.”

You needed the laugh that created. Dean’s loyalty to his friends, you included, was one of your favorite things about him.

“Yeah, she blames me for Jason’s death.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

You nodded in agreement, though it still hurt.

“You did an amazing job with her.”

He was doing it again. You were perplexed, but reluctantly invested in how proud Dean acted toward you and Maya.

“Move over,” he softly directed. You made room on the bed, but stubbornly stayed lying down. The familiar, warm and flirty scent of your body wash drifted from Dean’s skin.

“How’s the web-shooters?” He asked.

“Fine,” you lied. “How’s your ribs?”

“Just peachy…I’ll live…Hey, I have a question about Maya.”

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Don’t take this personal but, what’s going on with her hair today?”

“Her hair?”

“Yeah, it’s always so…uh, neat. And now it’s…kinda not your style?”

“Oh God, even you noticed it! The witch will use it against me, just watch.” The panic began setting in.

“What can I do?”

“Give me a spell that would make my daughter’s grandmother a nicer human being? Otherwise - I got this. I just have to wrestle my child’s hair into submission, as usual.At least this is not the stupidest injury I’ve had. That was when I coughed so hard I blew a blood vessel in my eye. I actually made up a monster story to cover up my lameness.“

“Speaking of lameness…Y/N, I know you’re not okay.” His voice felt deeper, richer as it trickled down to you. “Come on, let me help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“Your daughter’s hair.”

You were about to laugh when you looked up at his face. He was serious. Her clothes and other needed items were packed. Her hair was really the last thing you needed to complete. That was your parental job. How did he think he could just…do it? He had no clue. You imagined what a bird’s nest he would leave on Maya’s head and inwardly cringe. Dean was good at many things, but this didn’t seem to fit his skill set.

“I gave my brother all of his haircuts growing up…”

“That’s nice, but not exactly…”

“How much time you got?”

You checked your cell phone. “Oh shit, 38 minutes!”

"Well, it’s either me, Sam, or it doesn’t happen. Or Maya could do it herself. I’m sure she’ll love that,” he said with a knowing smirk.

You cringed more remembering that time she put a bag of melted gummy bears in her hair…

“I can do it,” you insisted, willing yourself to sit up against the headboard with painful effort.

“I know how you are, but I can help.”

“How am I?”

“You know. You’re very DE-tailed.”

You couldn’t argue too much with his assessment.

“Exactly! I got this,” you repeated.

“Okay, if you insist,” he said, obviously not believing you because he had a working pair of eyes, and brain.

With perfect timing, Maya ran into the room with the sparkly pink container that held her hair accessories and climbed onto the bed.

“Mom, did you pack me some deodorant?”

“Maya, we’ve been over this. Your cousins are older than you, so they can wear deodorant. You, ladybug, do not need it.”

“I’ll just ask Grandma to buy me some,” she said dismissively.

“I love this kid,” Dean laughed. “Guess what, Sweetie? Your mom’s ready to do your hair,” Deans added, then he got comfy against the headboard, arms crossed, ready for a show.

“I want everything purple to match my outfit,” your child announced.

“Sure, ladybug – let’s get started.”

You sat her between the two of you, handed her a tablet for her to watch her favorite animated movie, and began. The results were sad. The wrist splints were awkward, getting in your way. You took them off and tried again. Damn!!! It HURT to do the smallest movement, even one you’d done numerous times before. Maya’s thick head of curls was normally a thing of beauty, but at the moment, it was just a source of torture.

Your cellphone decided to ring at the worst time. Reaching for it and answering was out of the question. Dean grabbed it.

“The Evil Grandmother,” he said, and swiped to answer the call before you can protest. “Hello…She’s in the bathroom…Yes, Mrs. Bridges. This is Dean…Yes, THAT Dean…No, but wouldn’t it be nice if I did? Yes, Ma’am. I will be sure to tell her.”

“What did she say?”

“She wanted to remind you that she is picking up her grandchild. She knows you have an awful memory for things. And she asked if I was now living here.”

You reached over and whispered in his ear.

“You know she’s convinced that I cheated on Jason with you and somehow, that caused his death…She watches way too much I.D. Channel. We weren’t even together-together when it happened.”

“Ha! Tell her that I was not the homewrecking side chick…” he started before looking at a very attentive Maya and then lowering his voice. “…That would be her son, since I met you first.”

He was opening the door to the inevitable discussion you needed to have. Unfortunately, this was…

“Not the time, huh?”

“Pretty much. But you win, I need your help!”

Having already expected this outcome, Dean rubbed his hands together, promptly grabbed the chair from your writing desk, bringing it bedside.

“Your Mom is allowing me the privilege of doing your hair today.”

Maya did a double-take, but moved to the chair when she saw you nodding that it was okay.

“Okay, but you gotta hurry. Grandma is gonna be here soon,” she told Dean before picking up the tablet again. Dean looked at you in surprise and you just laughed.

You were doing it again. The affection you had attempted to bury was digging itself up, cleaning itself off, and gaining oxygen and space.

Dean grabbed his weapon of choice, the hair comb.

“Okay, I’m going in.”

The comb edge made contact with the top her head. He was always so gentle, you knew you need not worry, but he was also so slow that you couldn’t help it. It was like he was afraid to break the child.

“How’s that?” Dean asked and stepped back from his work.

“That’s perfect…If the middle of her head was on the left,” you teased. “Try again Daniel-san,” you gave your best Mr. Miyagi voice.

Dean huffed at you in frustration, stretched his neck, rolled his shoulders back. He was ready to do battle again. As a hunter, whether it was fighting, shooting or working some kind of magic - Dean always made things look easy, almost effortless. You couldn’t remember when you’d last seen him concentrate as hard on something, as he was with Maya’s hair.

“Sweetie, can you turn around and look at me?” He asked.

“Like this?” Maya said, immediately turning to face Dean.

“Perfect. Sit still for second, please.”

Using her nose as a guide, he used the length of the comb to measure what should be the middle of her head. Once he marked his spot, he had her turn around and continued the parting line down the back of her head.

“Done!” he announced in triumph at the perfect straight line he’d created.

“Bravo! I think you did it even better than me on a normal day,” you said sincerely.

Sam walked in from the hall, clapping his hands, causing Maya to do the same.

“Great start, brilliant – what other tricks can you pull off Houdini?”

“I could put you in a headlock,” Dean offered. “But this lovely young lady has all my attention right now.”

You directed Dean on how to make a ponytail. After overcoming some roasting from Sam, he finished with time to spare. It all ended in success with two nice, not-quite-perfect, but passable, pigtails on Maya’s beautiful little noggin.

“Not bad. I guess those videos helped,” Sam said, while Dean gave him a dirty look.

“What videos?” You asked.

“He’s been on YouTube watching some ‘Daddies doing their daughters’ hair’ videos. He didn’t tell you?”

***

A couple of weeks later, on a lazy Sunday morning, Maya jumped into your bed, effectively waking you up in a whirl of kid-energy and excitement.

“Mom! Dean did my hair again. I look like a mermaid unicorn!”

You blinked, trying to get a better look. It was…interesting. Lots of ponytails, colorful barrettes, and ponytail holders everywhere. Maya was overjoyed. You realized you had created one hairstyle-patenting monster in Dean Winchester. Maya’s new hairstyle was a hot-ass mess.

And also one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen.

#taylor's things nobody likes challenge #taylor's birthday challenge #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn fanfiction #supernatural #dean fanfiction #dean and kids #sam winchester #sam and kids #spnwriterscollective #deanandcassiefan

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themattress · 8 years ago

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The GOOD things about the OUAT Finale

The finale for the sixth season and original series of Once Upon a Time was sadly not on par with previous finales (save for Season 5′s) nor the ideal series finale it could have been. But with that said, there were several positive aspects to it and I think they are worth looking at.

The Parallels - While the literal usage of the Dark Curse in order to give a sense of coming full circle was groan-worthy, there were many great parallels to the first season that came along with it such as Emma and Henry’s relationship, the evil gaslighting female mayor, Snow and Davd’s kiss and following exchange, the place they were married, Emma’s old apartment, Henry getting a sword from Mr. Gold just like Emma did in the finale, and of course the role-reversed True Love’s Kiss between Emma and Henry. That all worked.

Mayor Fiona - Fiona as the Black Fairy was a pretty lame villain, even with Jamie Murray doing her best in the role. The awkward attempts to portray her as the Ultimate Evil and sheer unoriginality of combining many past Big Bad traits into one character left me very unimpressed. But strangely enough, as the mayor of her cursed Storybrooke, Fiona finally became genuinely scary and despicable to me. How seamlessly she could adopt the mask of being a kind, caring person made her even more hateful than the over-the-top Mayor Mills of Season 1, and her absolute psychotic conviction that all of her manipulative villainy was for a just cause made her frightening. In the end, she was actually a pretty decent final foe.

The Multiversal Apocalypse - Even though the reason for it happening made absolutely no freaking sense (Why is the existence of all the realms suddenly bound to the Savior’s belief?), I still loved the stakes and intensity that it brought to the finale. It was also a fantastic visual. The image of a darkness consuming the world brings to mind the Nothing from The Neverending Story, which makes perfect sense for a show like this to reference.

Operation Cuckoo’s Nest - Thank you, Henry. Finally a real nod to the fact that the psyche ward nurse and janitor are so clearly Nurse Ratched and Chief Bromdan from that story.

Hook’s Speech - In front of the beanstalk where the Captain Swan relationship officially began, Hook makes a passionate speech to David that sums up exactly why the couple, despite the missteps made with it in the past two seasons, is so great. They weren’t some pre-destined pair that was guaranteed a happy ending by fate (the kind of relationship that Swanfire shippers insist that their ship was), it was two people who had to fight for their love and earn their happy ending. Even better, Hook acknowledges the fact that is barely talked about in-show and out of it: that he and Emma made each other better. Previously the show had been acting as if was just the love of a good woman than changed a bad man, while certain fans seem to think that Hook made Emma worse since S1 Emma is the pinnacle of strength and badassery (more on that later…), but in fact both characters have helped develop and improve one another over the course of their relationship. That is why CS > all.

Captain Charming - Following up from this, Hook and David’s beanstalk adventure and the reflection it shows on how their relationship has developed is beautiful. If you ignore the bullshit retcon about Hook killing David’s father like the show does once its purpose of contrived temporary angst has been served, then the Hook/David bromance has been one of the show’s most endearing bonds over several seasons, and it culminates with the exchange where David admits to Hook that “he’s not trusting a pirate, he’s trusting his son….in-law.”

Rumple’s Comical Misogyny - Rumple has always been a misogynist and usually it’s disgusting, but in both episodes of this finale it crosses the line into flat-out hilarity. The first is when Fiona, after some dramatic build-up, reveals the supposed fate of Belle under this curse to him. She has dared to pull a Milah, leaving her family to actually pursue her own dreams and sustain her own well-being by travelling the world! Rumple’s horrified face as he looks through the obviously Photoshopped selfies of Belle at foreign landmarks is priceless. The second is when Rumple kills Fiona. Not only is this another woman to add to his body count, but it’s his own mother! Rumple’s habit of killing women who oppose him has finally reached the point where he kills the very woman whose womb he came from, the very woman who birthed him! Again, his expression after this deed coupled with his shaking arm is hilarious, as if even he realizes just how fucked up his murderous misogyny has gotten!

The Book Burning Scene - The closing scene of Part 1, where Emma burns the Once Upon a Time storybook all while shit is getting real back in the Enchanted Forest, is excellently shot and scored. I especially like when Fiona is to the side of Emma, tempting her, with flames seen just below her to signify how devilish she is, and when Emma sees the burning page of Hook’s picture which triggers something in her subconscious memory. It’s True Love, people.

“Hello there, Mummy” - Just…that line from Hook to Snow. Best line in the whole finale.

The Evil Queen - One of the biggest surprises in the finale was the return of the Evil Queen who had been split from Regina and served as the main antagonist for the first half of the season. Not only was the plot hole of her previous “happy ending” addressed (it wasn’t safe for her in the Wish Realm), but she proved to be noble and self-sacrificing in a way that Regina seldom has been. I mostly liked the Evil Queen earlier in the season, and her performance in this finale just reinforces my firm belief that like with Jekyll and Hyde, it’s the alleged “dark” part who is truly the better half. I can actually get behind her happy ending.

Gideon Gold - I never cared for Gideon throughout this season. He was a whiny psycho who lacked charisma when he first showed up, and the retcon that his heart was being controlled by the Black Fairy still didn’t endear me to him. But, like his surrogate mother, he was actually more effective here. First he was a complete asshole under the curse which helped show how bad Fiona and what she has done is, then he was hilarious with his befuddled reactions to Fiona ranting on about magic and having his heart, and finally he was a truly sympathetic figure, forced to be a puppet who had to fight and kill Emma even when he didn’t want to, a huge improvement over his “I wanna be the Savior!” crap from before. I actually felt for him, and was glad that he was reset into a baby, giving him another chance.

Emma’s Character Development - Whenever people say they want “Season 1 Emma” back, they seldom mean the Emma who had great plot relevancy who got to be the hero, nor the Emma who saw Regina for the sociopath that she was and stood up to her. No, they mean they want the shallowly “badass” Emma who was cold and muted in her emotional reactions, wore leather jackets all the time, punched people, said snarky things to everyone, and who was cynical and unbelieving in magic…and who was also a sad, pathetic loner. She was someone with no life beyond her job, had no friends because she pushed everyone away with her “walls”, and refused to believe in magic that she was at the center of because her self-esteem was so low that she refused to believe she had any such worth. All that bluster about “punching back and saying ‘this is who I am’? Just a way to repress what she truly thought of herself: as an unlovable orphan. In this finale, they brought Season 1 Emma back, were not subtle about how negative a person she was, and then showed just how she’s changed for the better. Even when cursed to regress back to her Season 1 self, all of Emma’s development doesn’t just disappear. It’s still there in her subconscious, and thus she ends up doing something the actual Season 1 Emma would never have done - believe in Henry and believe in herself because she wants to be the kind of magical hero he insists that she is and she’s willing to take a chance on becoming that hero. She’s truly punching back - against her own bleak outlook - and defining who she is: the Savior, giver of hope and light.

Rumple Beside Himself - Why did it take until the last episode for Rumple in his present-day Mr. Gold identity to stand opposite from his manic, sparkly past alter-ego? Given how the Dark One was established to work in Season 5, this felt like a much more natural thing to have happen than Regina and the Evil Queen sharing screentime together. Robert Carlyle is fantastic in both roles, as Rumple is tempted by his own dark side into once again making the wrong choice and screwing everyone over, but for some reason or other, he’s not having any of it this time and does the right thing. This doesn’t redeem him by a long shot, especially since the current crisis is his own fault, but it’s nice to see him take a stand all the same.

The Final Battle - Fiona may go out in an anticlimactic way, but she does leave behind a pretty ingenious trap: she gives Gideon’s heart the command for him to kill Emma at all costs. If Emma is killed, then light magic as embodied by her will die. If Emma kills Gideon, who is an innocent victim, it will cause light magic to die too! In a callback to 6x02, Regina says Emma can find the third way that she could not when faced with a similar situation when the Charmings were attacked by the heart-controlled Edmond Dantes. She finds that third way by allowing Gideon to stab her in order to save him, hoping that a self-sacrifice like this will spare light magic. At the same time, Rumple gives Gideon’s heart the command to not kill Emma, which can’t fully override Fiona’s command but causes his stab to curse her rather than irretrievably kill her. And because good as represented by the Savior and evil as represented by the almost-Savior both did the right thing, both combatants of the Final Battle are able to survive it. I’ll admit it - that’s actually some decent writing. Still, I’d rather Rumple have died as a part of his contribution, since it’s pretty galling that he gets off scot-free.

The Closure - The happy ending montage is beautiful…for the most part, anyway. The “Swan-Mills Family” pandering moment is ridiculous, and Regina and Rumple’s big scenes are morally twisted and infuriating. But the closing scenes for Snow, David, Emma and Hook are all perfect, with the first couple finally getting a better house complete with a barn and David’s old dog, and the second couple patrolling the streets as sheriff and deputy, with the hilarious added detail of a siren put on the yellow bug. And if you’re actually able to stomach the presence of Regina, Zelena, Rumple and Belle, then the final shot of the big family dinner at Granny’s is pretty touching as well, especially when it turns into the final page of the book.

#Once Upon a Time #ABC #The Final Battle #Finale #Opinion #Analysis

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scarffile0-blog · 6 years ago

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What is Coming to Netflix in October 2018

The third season of Marvel’s DAREDEVIL is coming to Netflix U.S. in October 2018, as is the new Toni Colette series WANDERLUST. Netflix original series CHILLING ADVENTURES OF SABRINA and BIG MOUTH will also be streaming in October, along with the Netflix original films 22 JULY and PRIVATE LIFE.

Related: What’s coming to Netflix Canada in October 2018?

October 1

Angel Eyes

Anger Management

Billy Madison

Black Dynamite

Blade

Blade II

Blazing Saddles

Empire Records

Gotham: Season 4

Kevin Hart: Laugh at My Pain

Kevin Hart: Seriously Funny

Must Love Dogs

My Little Pony Equestria Girls: Rollercoaster of Friendship

Mystic River

New York Minute

Once Upon a Time in America

Pay It Forward

Pee-wee’s Big Adventure

Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves

Rumble in the Bronx

She’s Out of My League

Sommersby

The Dead Pool

The Devil’s Advocate

The Green Mile

The Lake House

The NeverEnding Story

The Shining

V for Vendetta

Zack and Miri Make a Porno

October 2

Joe Rogan: Strange Times (Netflix Original): Comedian Joe Rogan takes on sexual politics, American politics, pro wrestling and vegans in a new stand-up special shot in Boston.

MeatEater: Season 7 (Netflix Original): Steven Rinella returns for more hunting and cooking expeditions in rugged locales with friends that include the likes of comedian Joe Rogan.

Monty Python: The Meaning of Live

Monty Python’s Life of Brian

October 3

October 4

Creeped Out (Netflix Original): This kids anthology series features spine-shivering tales of sinister neighbors, creepy ghouls, technology out of control and more.

The Haunting of Molly Hartley

Violet Evergarden: Special: Extra Episode

October 5

Big Mouth: Season 2 (Netflix Original): Carnal urges and teen angst abound as Nick, Andrew and friends pursue new crushes, tangle with the Shame Wizard and sample pot for the first time.

Dancing Queen (Netflix Original): Yes, he owns a successful dance studio. But Justin Johnson also slays onstage as drag superstar Alyssa Edwards. It’s a fierce, full and fabulous life.

Élite (Netflix Original): When three working class kids enroll in the most exclusive school in Spain, the clash between the wealthy and the poor students leads to tragedy.

Empire Games (Netflix Original): Interviews with scholars and dramatic reenactments bring to life the origins and history-making achievements of the world’s greatest ancient empires.

Little Things: Season 2 (Netflix Original): More fun ensues as Kavya and Dhruv’s relationship progresses amid conversations about their future and visits from family and friends.

Malevolent (Netflix Film): A brother-sister team who fake paranormal encounters for cash get more than they bargained for when a job at a haunted estate turns very, very real.

Private Life (Netflix Film): A couple coping with infertility struggles to keep their marriage afloat as they navigate the world of assisted reproduction and adoption.

Super Monsters Save Halloween (Netflix Film): It’s Halloween, and the Super Monsters are ready to celebrate — with candy, costumes and music to get you in the mood!

Super Monsters: Season 2 (Netflix Original): With curious new student Spike in the mix, the Super Monsters use their powers to solve problems — and conquer their fears about growing up. (See trailer HERE)

The Rise of Phoenixes (Netflix Original, Streaming Every Friday): When a secret from the past rears its head, a respected court scholar must choose between avenging her family and staying true to the prince she loves.

YG Future Strategy Office (Netflix Original): K-pop star Seungri, BIGBANG’s youngest member, tries to lead a team of bumbling staff at YG’s Future Strategy Office in this mockumentary sitcom.

October 6

October 8

Disney’s Sofia the First: Season 4

Mo Amer: The Vagabond (Netflix Original): Arab-American comedian Mo Amer brings his worldly experiences to his debut Netflix Original stand-up special, Mo Amer: The Vagabond. Filmed at the Paramount Theatre in Austin, TX, Amer enlightens audiences about the truths of his first hand experiences as a refugee. From the American immigration policy and touring internationally without a passport to the time he went viral for sitting next to Eric Trump on a flight, this is Amer like you have never seen before.

October 9

Terrace House: Opening New Doors: Part 4 (Netflix Original): As Noah juggles his love triangle with Mayu and Yui, Shohei plans to confess to Seina — but Terrace House’s repeat member might have other options.

October 10

22 July (Netflix Film): After a pair of shocking attacks in Norway, survivors — and the country — rally for healing and justice. Based on true events.

Pacto de Sangue (Netflix Original): An ambitious TV reporter uses risky and ethically questionable methods to report on gang wars and police corruption in the Amazon port of Belém, Brazil.

October 11

Salt Fat Acid Heat (Netflix Original): Chef and food writer Samin Nosrat brings her culinary manifesto of simple food rooted in tradition to the screen in a new cooking series.

Schitt’s Creek: Season 4

October 12

Apostle (Netflix Film): In this thriller, a man travels to a remote island in search of his missing sister, who was kidnapped by a murderous religious cult.

Errementari: The Blacksmith and the Devil (Netflix Film): A solitary blacksmith is locked in a vicious rivalry with the devil until a little girl appears in their lives by chance.

Feminists: What Were They Thinking? (Netflix Original): Revisiting 1970s photos of women that captured a feminist awakening, this film explores those women’s lives and examines the continued need for change.

FightWorld (Netflix Original): Actor and martial artist Frank Grillo explores and experiences the diverse fighting techniques found in cultures around the world.

ReMastered: Who Shot the Sheriff (Netflix Original): In 1976, reggae icon Bob Marley survived an assassination attempt as rival political groups battled in Jamaica. But who exactly was responsible?

Tarzan and Jane: Season 2 (Netflix Original): Tarzan and Jane embark on a heroic adventure in the Brazilian rainforest, rescuing animals from an evil scheme and uncovering an ancient secret.

The Boss Baby: Back in Business: Season 2 (Netflix Original): There’s a new threat to baby popularity: old people. But a revolutionary “stinkless” serum could give Baby Corp a competitive advantage.

The Curious Creations of Christine McConnell (Netflix Original): Wickedly talented baker and artist, Christine McConnell welcomes you into her terrifyingly delicious home to create delectable confections and hauntingly disturbing decor with the help of her colorful collection of creatures.

The Haunting of Hill House (Netflix Original): Flashing between past and present, a fractured family confronts haunting memories of their old home and the terrifying events that drove them from it.

The Kindergarten Teacher (Netflix Film): A devoted teacher takes interest in a young student’s creative potential after hearing his poetry. But she soon crosses the line into obsession.

October 15

Octonauts: Season 4

The Seven Deadly Sins: Revival of The Commandments (Netflix Original): When a kingdom is taken over by tyrants, the deposed princess begins a quest to find a disbanded group of evil knights to help take back her realm.

October 16

Ron White: If You Quit Listening, I’ll Shut Up (Netflix Original): Ron “Tater Salad” White dishes out his signature brand of cynicism, riffing on sex, celebrity and the sinister habits of wild geese.

October 19

Accidentally in Love (Netflix Original): A popular singer decides to go back to school, becoming the center of attention there, and meets an ordinary female student with a dual personality.

Ask the Doctor (Netflix Original): From exercise to infertility to sleep, a team of doctors share expert advice, bust medical myths and test the latest treatments.

Best.Worst.Weekend.Ever.: Limited Series (Netflix Original): In this comedy series, teenage Zed and his pals face one ridiculous, hilarious predicament after another in their last weekend before high school.

Derren Brown: Sacrifice (Netflix Original): Illusionist Derren Brown concocts a psychological experiment in which he tries to manipulate an ordinary person into taking a bullet for a stranger.

Distrito salvaje (Netflix Original): A former guerrilla soldier tries to reintegrate into Colombian society and finds himself taking part in an entirely new kind of war.

Gnome Alone (Netflix Film): A high-schooler teams up with living garden gnomes to stop tiny creatures from another world who want to eat everything in sight.

Haunted (Netflix Original): From the Executive Producers of The Purge franchise and Lore, Haunted gives a chilling glimpse into the first-person accounts from people who have witnessed horrifying, peculiar, extraordinary supernatural events and other unexplained phenomenons that continue to haunt them.

Hip-Hop Evolution: Season 2 (Netflix Original): Shad Kabango traces the growth of hip-hop subcultures in New York, the South and Oakland, California, in the ’80s and ’90s.

Illang: The Wolf Brigade (Netflix Film): In 2029, a special unit of the South Korean police called Illang battles a terrorist group threatening to undo years of efforts to unify the two Koreas.

Larva Island (Netflix Original): Stranded on a tropical island, two goofy larva buddies find slapstick fun in everything from discovering food to meeting new animal friends.

Making a Murderer: Part 2 (Netflix Original): With a national profile and new support after the release of “Making a Murderer,” Steven Avery and Brendan Dassey continue to fight for exoneration.

Marvel’s Daredevil: Season 3 (Netflix Original): With Wilson Fisk out of prison and back to corrupting Hell’s Kitchen, Matt Murdock must rise from the ashes.

The Night Comes For Us (Netflix Film): After sparing a girl’s life during a massacre, an elite Triad assassin is targeted by an onslaught of murderous gangsters.

Wanderlust (Netflix Original): Wanderlust looks at how we build and maintain happy relationships and asks whether lifelong monogamy is possible – or even desirable. Toni Collette plays Joy Richards, a therapist trying to find a way to keep her spark alive with her husband after a cycling accident causes them to reassess their relationship. As we meet her family, friends, neighbours and clients, remarkable yet relatable stories of love, lust and forbidden desire emerge.

October 21

Robozuna (Netflix Original): A boy and his homemade robot attempt to free their oppressed nation from an evil empire and its robot centurions in this exciting animated series.

October 23

ADAM SANDLER 100% FRESH (Netflix Original): Adam Sandler takes his comical musical musings back out on the road, from comedy clubs to concert halls to one very unsuspecting subway station.

October 24

Bodyguard (Netflix Original): After helping thwart a terrorist attack, a war veteran is assigned to protect a politician who was a major proponent of the conflict he fought in.

October 25

October 26

Been So Long (Netflix Film): A single mother in London’s Camden Town hears music when she meets a handsome stranger with a past. But she’s not sure she’s ready to open her heart.

Castlevania: Season 2 (Netflix Original): As Dracula and his legion of vampires prepare to rid the world of humanity’s stain, an unlikely trio of heroes dares to stand in their way.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Netflix Original): As her 16th birthday nears, Sabrina must choose between the witch world of her family and the human world of her friends. Based on the Archie comic.

Dovlatov (Netflix Film): An intimate portrait that captures six days in the life of influential Russian dissident writer Sergei Dovlatov.

Jefe (Netflix Film): The story of a boss that everyone hates: some kiss up to him; nobody tells him the truth. He’s the successful entrepreneur about to fall off the cliff.

Shirkers (Netflix Original): When she recovers stolen film of a movie she shot 25 years ago, novelist Sandi Tan revisits her time with the enigmatic man who swiped the footage.

Terrorism Close Calls (Netflix Original): Law enforcement officials look back on attempted terrorist attacks that were thwarted in the nick of time.

October 27

Girl from Nowhere (Netflix Original): A mysterious, clever girl named Nanno transfers to different schools, exposing the lies and misdeeds of the students and faculty at every turn.

October 28

Patriot Act with Hasan Minhaj (Netflix Original, Streaming Every Sunday): In this weekly show, Hasan Minhaj brings his unique comedic voice and storytelling skill to explore the larger trends shaping our fragmented world.

October 30

Fate/EXTRA Last Encore: Illustrias Geocentric Theory (Netflix Original): Having finally reached the seventh floor, Hakuno clings to the hope that he can somehow fix this defective war. But time is running out.

The Degenerates (Netflix Original): A series of no-holds-barred comedy from the likes of rising comics like Big Jay Oakerson, Joey Diaz, Liza Treyger, Yamaneika Saunders, Christina P. and Brad Williams.

October 31

Goldie & Bear: Season 2

GUN CITY (Netflix Film): Set in Barcelona in 1921, a double agent infiltrates the local mafia to find out who is selling weapons and explosives to anarchist groups.

Last Call – Titles Rotating Off the Service in October 2018

October 1

Adventureland

Akira

Bad Boys

Boogie Nights

Cinderella Man

Curse of Chucky

Eyes Wide Shut

Freaks and Geeks: Season 1

Full Metal Jacket

Guess Who

Inside Man

Let Me In

Life Is Beautiful

Menace II Society

Red Dragon

Scream 2

Sin City

Stealth

The Adventures of Tintin

The Clan

The Family Man

The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence

The Lost Boys

The Rugrats Movie

Trading Places

White Collar: Seasons 1-6

October 2

The Human Centipede: First Sequence

October 6

October 8

90210: Seasons 1-5

Kubo and the Two Strings

October 10

October 13

October 14

About a Boy: Seasons 1-2

The Babadook

October 17

October 22

The Secret Life of Pets

October 24

V/H/S/2

October 25

October 26

October 28

Source: http://www.thetvaddict.com/2018/09/26/what-is-coming-to-netflix-in-october-2018/

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erickmalpicaflores · 7 years ago

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Erik Malpica Flores Erik Malpica Flores recommends: What is Coming to Netflix in October 2018 |