#unstoppable 2010

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[sparkcentralis]

I think this is how it went

[adamwatchesmovies]

Unstoppable (2010)

No matter how spectacular or unbelievable, real events need a few key qualities to be worthy of a film adaptation. The real-life CSX 8888 incident meets all the criteria. With two charismatic leads, loads of twists and turns that raise the stakes and some good old-fashioned thumbing at the man, Unstoppable packs a lot of entertainment in its 98-minute running time.

At the Fuller Yard in northern Pennsylvania, the engineer (Ethan Suplee) jumps out of his locomotive to change an incorrectly aligned track, accidentally leaving the unattended train with the throttle at full speed. By the time yardmaster Connie Hooper (Rosario Dawson) realizes they have a runaway train filled with explosive materials barreling down the track, the only people who might be able to stop it are veteran railroad engineer Frank Barnes (Denzel Washington) and Will Colson (Chris Pine), a young train conductor.

If there’s one aspect of the film that will make or break it for you, it’s Tony Scott’s trademark, frenetic camerawork. There are constantly helicopters circling the 777 locomotive and the film is often shot from the perspective of a news reporter on one of those helicopters, which means there are a lot of unsteady shots, particularly when things get intense. Although I can’t say I was too fond of this choice, news footage-like camerawork is appropriate for a film based on true events. There are small bits of writing here and there that might also rub you the wrong way (the ultimate fate of the man who left his post, for example) but they’re minor issues when we consider everything the film does well.

Denzel Washington and Chris Pine are great as the heroes. Both of the actors have charisma to spare and play well off of each other. Each is given their own miniature story (with everything that’s going on with the train there’s not much room for too much else) and their own arcs together as a team. It’s just enough for you to care about them and worry about whether they will save the day… even before you realize the magnitude of the disaster that awaits everyone should they fail to stop the train. They seem like imperfect but perfectly relatable guys, the kind you could easily see at your weekend BBQ. The same can’t be said about the higher-ups we see throughout the film. Some might say they’re over-the-top but from my experience in the workforce, they're not so exaggerated. Even before the movie starts you wouldn’t be surprised to hear that AWVR’s vice-president won’t listen to Frank and Will and within the movie, you understand why, which makes him less cartoonish - though no less sympathetic.

We have a decent foundation with the great actors and easily grokable characters but ultimately, this film is about the train and the peril it represents. This is the kind of movie that’s always throwing some new wrench at our protagonists. Once Unstoppable gets going, it just never stops… sort of like the train itself. Thankfully, our heroes are smart and resourceful. Their plans always seem more likely to succeed than the ones the authorities propose. Seriously, some of the tactics they come up with are so ridiculous and obviously flawed that you’d laugh them off the screen… if this was a work of pure fiction.

Unstoppable would be a great movie to sit down and watch with your dad. It’s got plenty of tension, the stakes are high, the antagonists are easy to dislike, you’re eager to cheer for the heroes, and the energy throughout makes its running time fly by like nothing. It’s just an all-around solid piece of entertainment. (On Blu-ray, January 14, 2022)

[duranduratulsa]

[rwpohl]

unstoppable, e.s. posthumus, makara 2010

[sparrowlucero]

The Last Airbender (2010) is better than the netflix adaptation because the art created by an unstoppable force (weird auteur director who's whole oeuvre is awkward, tongue in cheek horror movies) and an immovable object (studio execs desperately trying to crank out an inoffensive family fantasy movie to be their own bespoke harry potter) coming together to taxidermy the acclaimed 9.3/10 on IMDB source material into one of the most inscrutable films of all time is just inherently more worthwhile than a show that's primary goal is to meekly regurgitate the events of the original story in a roughly accurate and nostalgic way in the hopes that The Fans will think it's better than M Night Shyamalan

[3liza]

i saw a contrarian "the web was always shit actually you're just blinded by nostalgia" take on here the other day, presumably by someone under the age of 30, and i really disagree. im sorry "enshittification" is such a cringe word and i know we're all tired of it, but just speakinf for myself it describes a real process that i watched happen in real time.

and it's not that 90s-00s internet was unambiguously "good", because it wasnt, but there was a period around the web2 era where there was a really precarious balance of factors that produced an internet that was so easy and so much fun it was doomed to decay. i think the factors were probably too numerous for me to be aware of all of them, and many of those factors were financial/economic and linked to various dot com bubbles, but a few big ones that affected me directly were "normal, non-nerd people who were actually online were confined to walled gardens (Yahoo, AOL, basic email apps) which kept them off of the larger internet and it was very difficult for them to escape" and "'nerd culture' itself was not yet mainstreamed by Disney and other mass corpo buyins" (it is impossible to describe to anyone who wasnt there, but knowing literally anything about Star Wars was extremely niche until approximately the 2010s) and of course the major one was that while social networks existed in a primordial form (Livejournal, Myspace, et al), they were heavily influenced by factors 1 and 2 which just made them a considerably different experience. so a bunch of shit factors were not yet in place, but a bunch of the good stuff about online had already been established, and search engines were functioning better than they ever would again. it's not revisionist or reactionary or nostalgic to observe and state that, it's just true.

smartphones, surveillance, user cookies, and the gradual destruction of defenses against data gathering despite massive resistance developed unstoppably after this, i think it's pointless to lay the blame on users for any of this. you have to spend so much energy and acquire so much expertise to avoid being shunted into the Facebook meat grinder, my personal frustrations with the average civilian internet user notwithstanding, and the capitalist extraction machine is so powerful, that im not sure personal choice can even be considered a serious factor in any of this

[flybitchidkhow2land]

something shifted in my reality and now i’m a bad bitch living in the 2010’s i’m unstoppable

[johannestevans]

Movie recommendations about people in specific professions being good at their jobs? (No cops)

Hullo, all!

Movie recommendations desired for people in specific or particular professions just being really good at their jobs where a lot of the work is about the satisfaction of their dealing with The Problem or problems, disaster(s), et cetera?

If possible, I'd prefer more films with seasoned professionals having reasonable discussions or arguments and tension with rookies rather than the new rookie comes in and is just the best at the job because they're young and hot (and played by a nepo baby).

I'm especially interested in films that basically go into the ins and outs of what makes our characters good at their job and what the job looks like, maybe what's changed in their industry if applicable - basically movies that focus on the expertise and the craft of what people are doing rather than just on booms and explosions, and where you're able to see yourself who's good at the job rather than needing to be told someone is the best.

I'm currently watching Unstoppable (2010) and it's really satisfying to watch, it's a disaster movie with a runaway train and all the different people working to try to slow down and stop the train.

Some movies that immediately come to mind are Juggernaut (thinking particularly of the bomb disposal unit); The Outfit (the tailoring); Coach Carter and Mona Lisa Smile (teaching); Babette's Feast and Big Night (cooking).

Please no cops, guards, detectives, soldiers, etc where the point of the job is either guarding property or trying to solve a crime. Crime is okay, especially con artistry and organised crime, but I'm not really interested in heist films.

I'm especially interested in films where groups of people or disparate groups of people across an industry or industries are working in conjunction with one another - I'm less interested in movies that are about One Person Who's The Bestest Ever That Did It.

Any genre, any language, any year!

Extra picky detail, but I want to avoid movies where to an observant layman certain attention to detail is obviously missing. Now You See Me, for example, is a movie series I find disappointing in part because they never do any real stage magic or sleight of hand, just a bunch of CGI stuff, and it ends up ruining the vibe for me, a cringe nerd who genuinely enjoys stage magic. Another bad example would be a film like Black Swan, where they have to very unsubtly cut continuously between the real dancers and the actors.

Thanks in advance!

[otherwolves]

Please tell the people more about Roiben 🤲

Oh sure! Roiben is my oldest OC; he was originally my Warden from Dragon Age: Origins, so I've been developing his character on and off since 2010.

Some facts about him: -his magic naturally leans towards entropy, but he's skilled in all schools of magic (including blood magic) -he's a dog person -he's 6'4" -bisexual, also aromantic -despite being a mage, he favours martial combat, and is particularly deadly with a greatsword

As a character, he's kind of like a force of nature; an unstoppable force or immovable object. A bit overpowered, to be honest. Anyway, thank you for taking an interest in him! I'm very flattered any time someone finds my OCs interesting ☺️

[118inflation]

Solid

Henren | 2.4k | T | Archive locked because I'm Sensitive.

The first time she had seen a photograph of Hen from before 2010, she had been stunned to silence. Somehow, in her mind, Henrietta Wilson had stepped onto the Earth with her head shaven and her chin held high, a law of nature as undeniable as Newton’s first, at once the immovable object and the unstoppable force. Hen Wilson held open doors and pressed her into countertops. Hen Wilson called her on her bullshit and listened solemnly when she was corrected. Hen Wilson was unapologetically herself and made Karen want to rise to meet her there. Henrietta Wilson did not slouch around in flamingo pink prom dresses. - Karen ruminates on who her wife was, who she is, and the connection between the two.

Behind the music and warnings under the cut.

Got pissed off about Lesbian Stuff early in the afternoon and had a full 6 hours of bus travel undistracted to think about it. "What if I wrote meditations on being a dyke for henren", I said in the group chat. "Well obviously I wouldn't get too deep into it because I would rather die". Well. I didn't get too deep into it but I've almost deleted this twice anyway because it's too close to home. Instead I am putting it on my Tumblr... Bon appetit...

If anyone is feeling argumentative about anything ideologically in this from any place other than "i'm butch/a stud and this is hurtful" I am unfortunately not taking criticism this time. Much love!

(warnings for an extended scene of 'well-meaning' parental homophobia)

[mydaddywiki]

Kevin Dunn

Physique: Husky Height: 5' 10" (1.78 m)

Kevin Dunn (born August 24, 1955-) is an American actor who has appeared in supporting roles in a number of films and television series since the 1980s. Dunn's roles include White House Communications Director Alan Reed in the political comedy Dave, U.S. Army Colonel Hicks in the 1998 version of Godzilla, Sam Witwicky's father Ron in the Transformers film series, Oscar Galvin in the 2010 action thriller Unstoppable, and misanthropic White House Chief of Staff Ben Cafferty in Veep. He has also had recurring roles on True Detective in 2014 and on the TV series adaptation of The Mosquito Coast in 2021.

Genial, slightly stocky with a pleasant (if unremarkable) countenance, Dunn cut his chops playing everymen in movies and one-shot television episodes. Although clean-shaven for most roles, he can grow an surprisingly cute beard on him. I normally don't like beards but he just has the sweetest face I have ever seen with or without it.

Other than being married with a child, I know absolutely nothing else of his personal life. Anyway, he may be straight, but he does look every inch a big fuckable bear.

RECOMMENDATIONS: Veep (TV Series) - shirtless Law & Order (TV Series) S15.E21 Publish and Perish (2005) - shirtless 1492: Conquest of Paradise (1992) - shirtless

[giuseppe-yuki]

il predestinato

charles leclerc x black arabian mare!reader

w.c.: 1.7k

warnings: angst with happy ending + one curse word

summary: charles' life throughout the years

picture credits from pinterest :)

a/n: major shoutout to the anon who came up with the prompt that inspired this! also, i would also like to point out that interactions with the reader is more of a super minor plot point, and while reader does appear in this fic, it mostly focuses on charles. one more thing, this will be different than my usual more light-hearted fics. i've decided to try a different writing still for this one :)

it started when charles was 3, when his papa drove him to a quaint town in the southeast of france. brignoles, he remembers.

charles recalls watching with wonder as his papa unloaded the machinery from the back of the car. this is the chassis, hervé had said, and these are the axles, and the wheel bearings, and the engine, and the cooling system, and the tyres and the steering wheel. the terms were all a jumble in his brain, but he understood it all boiled down to one thing: it was a red go kart, with a big number 35 etched on the front.

his papa had shoved him into a race suit and pushed him onto the track, and that was it. that's when he fell in love with the sport. the turns, the straights, the speed, the thrill. charles remembers wailing to stay on the kart when the sun had set, while his papa's friend, phillipe, and his son watched amusedly. all of the other children had gone home, and only charles was left, little gloved hands clutching tightly onto the steering wheel. when hervé couldn't calm him down, jules had knelt on the dusty ground and looked into charles' watery eyes. smiling, he had said to him, charlie, i can see your passion in racing. i love it too. but, you'll have tomorrow and forever to race. we'll come back another day, okay?

and that's what he did. he came back the next day, and gave himself to the sport of racing. one day, he decided, he would bring pride to his country and to his name through racing. entering into every karting competition there was in france, charles accelerated through the french paca championships in 2005, 2006, and 2008 while hervé watched on. he became the french cadet champion in 2009 and won the junior monaco kart cup in 2010.

charles was 14 when he raced in the cik-fia kf3 world cup, where he also met another little boy whose heart also beat for racing. he had short dark blonde hair, pouty lips, and and a lisp that was ever-so-prominent in the rare occasion that he talked. when the boy's strict father wasn't looking, he had flashed a smile and wave, but was only met the by the boy’s sullen silence. fine, he had thought, and that race, he purposefully pushed that boy, max, off the track. when a reporter came up and asked him about the accident, he had brushed it off as an 'inchident' and sprinted to his proud father who congratulated him on the win.

he remembers his father going to buy him a chocolate ice cream cone while he sat in his race suit on the kerb facing the track. curiously, a black pony had galloped by, hair whipping in the wind. it always seemed to appear at his kart races. nevertheless, it reminded him of the horse on the red and yellow ferarri logo, which he hoped would adorn his racing car in the future. thinking about it, he corrected himself. will adorn his racing car.

at 20 years old, charles had shot up the ranks to f2, under prema. another race, another win, another step closer to his end goal- to make jules and his papa proud. in his home race, monaco 2017, he felt unstoppable. lap after lap, he had set up purple sectors. charles remembers that black horse, galloping in the fields next to his simple karting races. this must be what it felt like, the adrenaline pushing to go harder, faster. however, before the finish line, a safety car and tyre problem slashed his dreams of winning at his home in f2.

bad news followed soon after, with the passing of hervé. it was a devastating blow, considering jules’ passing in suzuka a few years before. upon hearing the news, charles had shut himself off from the world and went to the track his papa had first taken him to, and where he had met jules. it wasn't until he took off from the start had reality hit him. neither of them would not be there when he stepped out of his car. they would not be there to congratulate him on setting a new record, nor would they be there to console him after a particularly bad crash. the people that helped kickstart his love for racing would never come to one of his races ever again. charles sped up, legs crammed in the small kart, lap after lap, track blurry in his vision because of his tears. the sky, as if magnifying his emotions, had thundered and clouded over the usually sunny skies. when his arms ached and feet hurt, he had sat there at the finish line, like he did 17 years ago and gripped onto the steering wheel like a lifeline.

on the way back to his car, he had saw the black mare from his karting days, dark coat rippling. she had blinked at him with onyx eyes, whinnying. charles had reached out his hand, and suddenly, in its place was a girl, around his age. he felt a sense of familiarity with her- she had basically grew up with him from a distance, urging him on at every race. he hadn't turned away when she had dried his tears and comforted him, whispering into his ears how he would carry on the legacy.

legacy? he had asked her, watercolor eyes filled with tears. enzo’s, she had responded with a bitter-sweet smile. enzo ferrari’s. i just know you will continue my grandfather’s legacy through your blood- i've been watching you for all these years. he used to always speak of a boy like you with a passion for racing. il predestinato, he called him.

but in 2018, at the age of 21, he not signed to ferrari. no, kimi räikkönen and sebastian vettel took those spots. instead, he was signed to sauber. a formula one team nonetheless, he tried his best in every race. he tried to remember the feeling back when he was 3, driving down the track straight in his little red go-kart. he had felt so fast, so powerful- like a horse running in an open field. if he went fast enough, maybe he would run right through everyone in front of him and reach the finish line. on the morning of his home grand prix, he remembered climbing into the cockpit and telling himself that this was it. this was the race that would make papa and jules proud. this was the race that would make ferrari realize their mistake of not signing him. this was the race that would prove to monaco that he loved them, and maybe then they would love him back.

but it wasn't enough. with a few laps to go in the monaco grand prix, charles suffered a brake failure, which spun out into another driver and caused both to go into early retirement. he could only watch in tears as he saw daniel ricciardo clench first place and take his iconic dive into the red bull pool. that should be me, he had thought, angry tears stinging his eyes.

that night, he cried himself to sleep, muttering his apologies to jules, his papa, and monaco for failing them.

the race in his home country followed several other unsuccessful ones; a loose wheel in silverstone, suspension damage at the hungaroring, and a multi-car pileup in spa. it seemed things never went his way. one step forward, two steps back, like they say. he would often fall into the arms of the girl that had followed him all this way, and she would let him sob into her shoulder while she whispered about the good things that would come soon. just you wait charles, she had said. you will get your chance.

2022 was the year that he felt like he could win it. like the girl (now his girlfriend) had said, his time would come soon enough. ferrari had signed him three years ago, at 22, and now at 24, he shared the team with the spanish driver carlos sainz. this time would be it, he had excitedly promised his girlfriend. she had just smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

at his team's home race in imola, at the autodromo enzo e dino ferrari, he had heard the crowd chant his name. charlie, lord perceval, prince of monaco- those nicknames never stuck out as much as il predestinato, the predestined. he would win this, he had pledged, to prove to enzo and his granddaughter that he was the predestined. alas, the little boy that he pushed off the track when he was 14 won the race, and he came 6th behind valterri bottas.

he repeated to himself the same promises before the 2022 monaco grand prix, but the result was the same as before, except his own teammate was the one on the podium, albeit third place. once again, he watched as checo perez did a backflip into the redbull pool, mexican flag wrapped around his sweaty body. good for him, he had thought bitterly. bringing pride to his country. how about me?

as the only driver in ferrari history to have a five-year contract, charles had made history at the start of the season in 2024 at age 26. the year previous had been a disaster, with redbull winning nearly all the races on the calendar. maybe this year will be different, charles had said to himself, hugging his girlfriend goodbye in the garage. she had tapped the ferrari logo on his race suit, and told him to remember who he was racing for.

before he climbed into his car, charles had recalled what his papa had told him the first time he had climbed into a vehicle. it was made up of the axles, the wheel bearings, the engine, the cooling system, the tyres, and the steering wheel. it all boiled down to a big, high tech kart, marked with the number 16. all he had to do was race it the way he did back in birgnoles, under the watchful eyes of his papa and jules. they were probably watching now, from above him.

he felt strangely optimistic as he pulled into the first spot on the grid. maybe this time, this year, he wouldn't fuck it up. charles watched as the the overhead set of starting lights lit up two by two. when they went out, he slammed his foot on the throttle.

now, on the podium overlooking monaco, charles shed tears of joy. he had done it. if only jules and papa were there to see me now, he thought, clutching the 1st place trophy. the crowd below roared with praise for monaco's il predestinato, and the giant flags bearing the prancing horse of enzo ferrari waved in the confetti-filled air. he thought he could see a familiar black mare in the distance, near the water, pawing at the ground, mane fluttering. monaco finally loved him, he had proved that enzo was right, and won the trophy for jules and his papa. as he brought his lips to the champagne-drenched trophy, he only had one thought in his head. merci beaucoup, jules, papa, monaco, enzo, ferrari, and my beloved girlfriend. i will love you all, tomorrow and forever.

[artbyblastweave]

Happy New Year! Looking for comic recommendations, which are your favorites? Genre doesn't matter very much, I was raised on the original run of Amazing Spider-Man

Happy new year! Some fun ones from the last couple years-

Rock Candy Mountain by Kyle Starks and Chris Schweizer- Fantasy-americana post-WW2 madcap about an unbeatable hobo on a quest to find the titular Big Rock Candy Mountain, and the washed-up screenwriter he drags along for the ride. Two volumes.

We Only Find Them When They're Dead by Al Ewing and Simone Di Meo- space opera about mining crews who work harvesting tissues from dead galactus-like entities. Unlike most of these it was an ongoing I haven't caught up with and thus the only one I can't vouch to have stuck the landing. Great imagery though. Galactus Whalefall

Dead Body Road by Justin Jordan and Matteo Scalera- Elmore Leonard/Donald Westlake inspired crime-revenge-rampage/maguffin hunt thing. Actually anything Justin Jordan writes but I took some effort to prevent this entire list becoming Kyle Starks and Justin Jordan books 20th Century Men by Deniz Camp and Stipan Moran- Alternate history where the USA and USSR deploy nationalized superhumans to Afghanistan during the 1980s.

Daybreak by Brian Ralph. Zombie apocalypse story with the gimmick of being told entirely from a first-person perspective.

Frontiersman by Patrick Kindlon and Marco Ferrari- a 60-something Green-Arrow analogous superhero who's gone bush is coaxed out of hiding by environmentalists to do a tree sit protest, only for all hell to break loose as all the superhuman contacts he left hanging track him down to settle their accounts. He Will Not Leave The Tree. This was supposed to be an ongoing but I think it only managed one volume.

Hard Boiled by Frank Miller and Geoff Darrow- Gonzo retrofuturistic self-parody of Miller's usual fare, about a hard-as-nails guntoting unstoppable IRS agent whose choppy Noir narration reads like a stroke-in-progress. Rife with Miller's typical derangements about women, and carried in many respects by the visual buffet of Darrow's interiors, it nonetheless convinced me that All-Star Batman and Robin might have been written that way as a deliberate gag instead of out of a complete lack of self-awareness.

Ultimate Spider-Man by Bendis and Bagley- the progenitor of the original Ultimate Marvel Line, and also the progenitor of the Bendisian house style that would eventually eat the rest of Marvel's output for the 2000s and 2010s due to how popular it was. I got about 110 issues in until I got wrenched away from it by life developments a couple months back, but throughout that run it cemented itself as basically the cohesive take on Spider-Man for me.

[becauseitsyouandi]

my personal jalex fic recs because fawk, jalex maaaaan

Because you can never get enough jalex <3

♡ 𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕤 ♡

OTP by Save vs. Magic ✿ Season 3 ✿ COMPLETE ❀ 'With 'Charmed and Dangerous' set to become a movie, Alex is shocked to discover the books based on her life are wildly popular. Even more shocking is what some fans are reading between the lines. And most disturbing of all? Justin might be one!' ✿ OMG. I love meta and I love Jalex, but more importantly I love realistically written Jalex where they don't want to jump each others bones as soon as the fic starts, so this is my #1 recommendation in a multi-chaptered fic if you think to yourself, wait, how in the F do they even start to realize they like-like (lol) each other anyways? Soo well-written, Save vs. Magic is a stellar author who has wrote plenty of gems for the jalex comm <3 After you read OTP, I recommend reading the Easter special for OTP A Handshake With God. So funny and a cute taste of Jalex's after.

Reflection by TheWolfHourx, TwistedWizards ✿ Post Season-4 ✿ IN PROGRESS ❀ Woooo boy, what to say about this one--- it's sexy, incredible sexy. Risque and full of tension, Alex is stuck in the You-niverse with daaark, eeeeevil Justin, who wants to make her his. She is living my dream! It is unfinished, and I want to give a disclaimer that it ends before they do the deed, so if you're okay with mild blue-balling, this is an awesome read that's not juuust smutty goodness yum, but has well written Jalex that makes you root for our main couple (and sexy evil Justin is there, did I mention sexy evil Justin?)

'More Transparent Than Water And Thicker Than Blood' Series by pandorium ✿ Season 3 to Post-Series ✿ COMPLETE ✿ Ooooooof. Talk about an emotional rollercoaster ride, my heart! Sweetness, and heartbreak, and then sweetness. A series of one shots span from post-movie codependency to Jalex as adults. Don't worry-- a happily ever after awaits with this one, even if the journey to get there for our two siblings is a bit long.

Something like Forever by someryn ✿ Post-Movie ✿ COMPLETE ✿ Two-part series that has Justin's POV Leave The Ashes, it's a look at how Justin and Alex cope, well fail to cope with the traumatic events of the movie. Alex struggles to communicate her emotions in Alex fashion, Justin is her steadfast brother who looks at her for just a bit too long, and there is sweetness and the perfect amount of spice added in (just a pinch). Delicious Jalex awaits with this fic <3

Truth Spell by saveyou ✿ Post-Movie ✿ IN PROGRESS ✿ This is an AU where Justin runs away from home post-movie--and only Alex knows why. It's an interesting set up, but last update was in 2010 and it ends off sorely unfinished. But it is a nice read and I enjoy how Alex and Justin are written.

˚ʚ ♡ 𝕠𝕟𝕖-𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 ♡ ɞ˚

Holding Back the Night by Nerissa ✿ Post-Movie ✿ More like hold back my tears when mentioning this fic! This is my #1 Jalex fic recommendation-- it holds such a special place because it fueled my Jalex obsession to unstoppable levels. The ultimate codependency trope fic for Jalex in my opinion. The conversations in this fic are so so cute, tender and emotional. This is the hot-chocolate-your-grandma-gives-you of a Jalex fic. Lemme re-read this fic now <3

so what if you catch me, where would we land by ladytahiri ✿ Child to Adult Jalex ✿ 'Justin and Alex's lives unfold like a butterfly in reverse' ✿ Starts off on an amazing hook with Theresa catching Justin and Alex in a compromising position, and traces back through the blossoming of Justin/Alex's relationship, to when they were just children. Mwah mwah a billion chef kisses!

reach out and touch someone by omens ✿ Season 4 ✿ “Careful, Justin; that almost sounds like ‘what are you wearing territory?’ there.” ✿ AKA Justin and Alex are horny teenagers, Justin is away at college, and late-night husky phone convos ensue. Sign me tf up!

Hands That Touch The Wrong Things by TheWolfHourx ✿ Season 3 ✿ 'This obsession. This painting. Something about this screams at her louder than all her other paintings. Something inside her rips and roars and howls.' ✿ Angst and pain in Alex's POV as she grapples with her feelings post-Puerto Rico. She uses painting as an outlet for her desires she can't express.

Louder than sirens by popsongnation ✿ Post-Movie ✿ 'The feeling stays with her as time goes on, the need to touch him as often as possible. She knows he feels it too.' ✿ Uuuugh author why must you slay me! Codependency trope done so so well it hurts! Secret handholding and rapidly tangled feelings, my heart squeezes in pain for our two sweethearts.

[tellingtell5]

Three Little Birds part. 3, and last 《Nick Blaine, The handmaid's tell》

A short story about Nick Blaine.

Nick Blaine x oc!fmale

A/N:

I honestly didn’t plan on writing a third part to this story. I was just waiting to see how the final season of one of my favorite shows would play out. And even though I understand the direction they took… it still broke me.

SPOILERS FOR THE HANDMAID’S TALE FROM HERE ON OUT:

I just can’t wrap my head around the path they gave Nick. Not because I liked him—though I did—but because I truly don’t understand why they chose not to give him the redemption arc he seemed to be moving toward. It hurts. Deeply.

He ended up being used solely as a plot device for June. Not as a person, not as a character with his own story, his own struggles, his own growth. Just a tool to serve hers. It feels lazy. Like they erased everything they had carefully built around him and chose not to let him evolve.

That’s just how I see it, of course—others might feel differently. But that frustration, that ache of watching a character with so much potential be abandoned halfway through his arc… that’s what made me write this. It was my way of giving Nick Blaine the redemption he deserved.

Thanks for reading

Three Little Birds Part 2.

The new house was completely silent. The only sound was the crackling of the ostentatious fireplace—my eyes fixed on it, unblinking. The heat of the flames brushed against my skin in a way that felt almost comforting, as if calling to me. A fleeting thought sparked in the back of my mind—like those moments back when I could still drive, when a dark impulse would flash through me, pulling my attention from the road. What if… It would be easy. Just open the door while the car’s going 100 kilometers an hour. See what happens to your body when it’s flung into the void.

I realized I hadn’t blinked in a long while, my hand hovering dangerously close to the fire. What if…

The sound of the front door closing snapped me out of it. I pulled my hand back quickly, as if to hide the thoughts—though they had become all too familiar lately. When I placed it over my abdomen, tears welled up in my eyes and I had to blink to push them back.

I heard the slow drag of footsteps coming to the doorway. Footsteps that once brought comfort, sometimes even excitement. Now, they only made the emptiness in my chest expand, until it drowned me completely.

The soft rustle of clothing. Without turning, I knew he was struggling with the knot of the tie I’d fastened that morning—tied a little too tightly, maybe by accident, or maybe not entirely.

“With your eyes, Commander Blaine.”

I looked over the back of the chair I’d been sunk into all day, free of distraction. His expression shifted—from weary to irritated. He stopped fidgeting with the knot and let his arms fall limp at his sides, like dead weight. I heard him sigh, his eyes drifting away from mine, landing somewhere in the unfamiliar corners of the house that no longer felt like ours.

The rage had settled in my chest months ago. The silence, the waiting, the slow erosion of everything we were—it had taken root in my bones. And now, after a full day of nothing but my own thoughts and the sight of him like this, it was blooming. Unstoppable. Opening like a bud in spring.

Bile burned in my throat. I knew that if I spoke, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

He looked at me from the side, weighing his words. I could tell by the way he passed his tongue over his teeth, hands on his hips. I felt like a child about to be scolded. But instead, he covered his face with one hand, as if trying to soften the tightness in his expression.

“How are you?”

This is what our conversations have become. Long gone were the gentle talks by candlelight, wrapped in a bubble no one could pierce. My heart fluttered in my chest with a longing that threatened to undo me. I wanted to reach for him, motion him to sit beside me. Run my fingers through his hair while we spoke of impossible dreams until one of us drifted off—probably me. Then I’d wake up in our bed, safe in his arms.

Instead, words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them.

“Physically, emotionally, or ethically? Because that depends. Having nothing to do leaves you with a lot of time to think. About possibilities. Like inviting my new friends over and letting them burn down your lovely mansion.”

I’d turned fully to face him now, letting the anger devour me whole. My cheeks flushed hot with the effort. He stepped toward me slowly, eyes locked on mine—eyes full of fire, a promise that I wouldn't hesitate to burn us both to the ground.

When he finally reached me, I braced myself for shouting, for his new rank to rear its head and swallow him whole. But instead, he knelt beside me, head bowed, eyes fixed on the floor. He laid one hand over mine, and something inside me softened, crumbled at the warmth I hadn’t felt in so long. His new duties had pulled him far from me, leaving a loneliness that carved itself deeper each day.

His thumb moved in slow, absentminded circles. My skin itched to return the gesture.

Nick’s lips brushed my temple, and I closed my eyes, letting the wall I’d built come crashing down. He rested his forehead there too—in a gesture I understood as solace.

“Mayday offered me a way out.”

The words escaped as a whisper, barely audible, but I knew he heard them. His thumb froze. His whole body tensed. The warmth of his mouth left my skin. When I turned, our foreheads bumped. I leaned into him, desperate to keep him from pulling further away. Clinging to him with whatever part of me was still whole.

“Nick, I need to get out of here. I need to leave before I’m too pregnant to run, or to…”

He shook his head slowly, his forehead brushing mine. The hope I’d been nursing—so fragile, so carefully constructed—began to crack. To shatter with every silent refusal. It crumbled like the buildings he was sent to destroy.

Desperation gripped me. I moved closer, cupping his face with both hands, stroking his cheeks with my thumbs. His eyes were closed, his brows furrowed deeply—a look of pain I recognized all too well.

“We can go. We can leave this place.” When he tried to pull away, I held on tighter. “All three of us.”

That made him stop. He froze. When he opened his eyes again, I saw it—a flicker of doubt, a glimmer of something that hadn’t been there before.

“I know it’s complicated,” he said finally, “but right now we’re safe. Lawrence and I… we’re trying. Things will get better.”

Each word tore something from me. And before my eyes, freedom disappeared—like smoke rising from a fire I couldn’t put out.

“This can’t get better—you know that.” My voice came out as a whisper, barely audible, as if the walls themselves might betray us. Fear gnawed at me relentlessly. “Nick, I don’t want our child to be born in Gilead.”

“We’ve talked about this,” he murmured. “It’s not safe. There’s no way… they could catch you, punish you. And I don’t know if I could bear it.”

The fire crackled behind me. I rose from the armchair like I was peeling myself away from a tomb. My body still burned, but now the heat came from inside. I was tired of crying in silence.

“You know what you really couldn’t bear, Nick?” I forced him to meet my gaze. To really see me. “Not that I’d be caught. No. That your daughter might never learn to write her own name. That she could lose a hand for daring to read the story you whisper to her at night. That she might be taken away the moment she’s deemed old enough to serve a purpose she never chose. That she won’t get to choose who to love.”

I thought it was my breath that had become erratic, but it was his. He was gasping like he’d run a marathon. His eyes brimmed with tears that wouldn’t fall.

“Do you think I’m not afraid?” I went on, voice low and steady. “I live in fear every second. Afraid they’ll lift my skirt during an inspection and find the Mayday message sewn into the hem. Afraid a Martha will turn me in. Afraid you’ll decide I’m no longer worth the risk.”

I leaned my forehead against his, sinking to the floor beside him.

“But what scares me more is that you might choose this future—for me and for your daughter. That you’ll tell me you won’t come.”

I’d known for weeks now that we were having a girl, but I had used his long absences to keep it from him. My urgency to leave had only grown with that knowledge—driven by fear. This was the first time Nick was hearing the truth.

His lips parted. His hands rose to cup mine, still resting on his face.

“If I fail… they’ll kill you.”

“And if we don’t try, they’ll kill us anyway.”

Silence. The kind that hurt in your bones. Nick looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. His lips trembled. I didn’t know if it was from fear or longing. His eyes devoured me—as if he suddenly remembered who I was. Not just his wife. Not just the mother of his child. But the woman he’d once been willing to betray an entire country for.

“You don’t understand. They’re watching me. I know it. They don’t say anything, but I know.”

“So what do we do, Nick?” I cut him off. My voice was fire caged. “You want me to stay here? Raise a child who’ll be used as a rope to bind me tighter? You want me to close my eyes and tell myself you love me while Gilead brands my womb with its name?”

“That’s not what I— I just want to keep you safe.”

“Safe? You mean locked away? Silenced? Monitored even in how I say good morning?”

I stopped right in front of him, close enough to smell the sweat at the base of his neck.

“This isn’t safety, Nick. This is being dead with my eyes open.”

He didn’t answer.

“Mayday offered me a way out. And if you won’t help save us, I’ll do it alone.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“I know. So is living here. So is pretending this is love when every day I feel more like property and less like a person.”

His eyes clouded with rage—not at me, but at himself. At the role he had stepped into without realizing how deep it went.

And again, there it was—that familiar, traitorous fluttering in my chest. In the weeks since his promotion, since he became a Commander, I’d started to forget the man who once drew me in like a moth to flame. I’d been living with a stranger. That had made my choices frantic, reckless. Left me unanchored.

But now, kneeling beside me, exhaustion carved deep into his face, I saw Nick again.

My resolve wavered. The air in the room felt too thin. I thought of everything I was asking him to give up. I knew Nick loved me. I knew he would love our child. But what would I do in his place? Would I abandon everything I believed in for him? Would I risk his life on a dream that might never come true?

The truth was: Nick would never ask that of me. Because if he did, he’d be condemning us. The real question was—would he let us go?

I thought he’d stand. Pretend this conversation never happened. Ask if I’d join him in the shower. And the worst part? I probably would have. Mental exhaustion would’ve won. I would’ve said yes. Let him rub my swollen feet in the bath. Delayed my escape for another week or two. And by then, it’d be too late.

Because I’d been foolish enough to fall in love. Foolish enough to make someone else’s well-being more important than my own. Foolish enough to let his absence break me in half.

But none of that happened.

Instead, he pulled me into his arms. Held me tight, as if trying to gather the scattered pieces of me. Not too tightly—he was still careful not to crush me. But it was the most meaningful gesture we had shared in months. Because we both knew what it meant.

“Let me help you,” he whispered into my ear, just as a sob escaped my throat. “I know…” He cleared his throat, trying to push the grief out of his voice. “God, I know you’d jump off a cliff without hesitation. But I can’t let you do it alone.”

My body shook against his, trembling from the grief. His hand ran through my hair, slow and tender.

“When I fell in love with you, I knew.” Our foreheads touched again, both of us with closed eyes. “I knew there was nothing I could do to keep you by my side. That one day, I’d have to watch you leave. What I didn’t know was how much it would hurt.”

“Nick, no. You can come with me. You can—”

A sad smile curved his lips as he shook his head.

“No. There’s no place for someone like me. I’m a Commander now. There’s no amnesty that can erase the things I’ve done. Not even when I was just an Eye.”

“If you work with them—if you give information—”

He silenced me with a low whisper that vibrated in his chest.

“You’ll be safe. You’ll get out of here. You’ll have a future.”

“Nick, please. Come with me.”

He took my hands again, gently, like they were something sacred. And then he said it.

"I used to pray they'd kill me."

The words hung in the air like smoke from a burning house. He didn’t look at me—he couldn’t.

"Back when I was still an Eye, before I knew you... I did things. I watched things happen and didn’t stop them. And every night, I thought: maybe tomorrow they’ll find me out. Maybe tomorrow I’ll pay for it."

His voice broke, and this time, the tears fell.

"But then you came. And you looked at me like I was still worth something. Like there was still a man under all that rot. And I—" He exhaled like the truth was fire in his lungs. "I didn’t know how to live with that kind of hope."

I had no words. Only silence. Only the weight of his pain pressed into mine.

"So no," he said, eyes meeting mine, shimmering. "Maybe I don’t deserve to come with you. Maybe staying behind is the only way I can finally do something right. Make something clean out of everything that’s been dirty."

I wanted to tell him he was wrong. That he did deserve a second chance.

He pressed my hand to his chest, where his heart beat fast and fragile.

"You saved me, even if I couldn’t be saved."

I couldn’t stop the cry that broke free. The grief that swelled inside me, knowing there was nothing I could say to change his mind. Then I thought about what our lives might’ve been, if we’d met in another world. But maybe we wouldn’t be the same people who fell in love in this one.

“I love you.” It came out like a last resort. A grenade I hoped would detonate the right way.

“And I love you. Far more than you love me. I— I’ve never felt this way for anyone, and I know I never will again. That’s why I’ll risk everything.”

I couldn’t speak. The words clogged my throat, a tight ball I couldn’t breathe around. I almost said, “You don’t have to. I’ll stay with you. We’ll find a way to survive here.” But we wouldn’t. And we both knew that.

Now it was me holding him. Clinging to him as if he might vanish, be pulled from my arms.

“I’ll clear the way from here. I’ll make sure they can’t reach you.”

His words landed in my chest like a cold nail. But the tears wouldn’t come. They had been left behind, melted into the bitter certainty that I was already losing him.

I looked at him—past the tired eyes and the shadow that had settled in his expression ever since he decided to stay behind. I looked at him the way someone tries to etch a face into memory before time takes it away.

I leaned in without thinking. Took his face in my hands. Kissed him.

At first, it was clumsy—not from lack of desire, but from everything that weighed it down. Pain. Anger. Tenderness. Love. It was like kissing a goodbye I hadn’t found the strength to speak yet. I trembled. So did he. But I didn’t pull away. I threaded my fingers into his hair, trying to stop time right there. Trap us in a moment that was still ours.

He kissed me back. Like he was breaking inside. Like it was the only language left to tell me he didn’t want to let me go. That this was killing him too.

We clung to each other like shipwrecked souls in a sea we could no longer avoid.

Our lips met again, slower now. I brushed his mouth with mine like a promise, as if my skin could say what words no longer could: Survive. Don’t forget me.

And when I pulled away, I did it slowly. Our breath still mingled, the echo of the kiss lingering between us.

“The best thing I’ve done in this life, and in any other,” he said, “was loving you. The only good thing. My redemption. Maybe in another world, I would’ve been enough.”