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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

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hello! i hope it's okay to ask, i was wondering if you have any good merfolk/selkie tma au fic recs? i've been looking for them on ao3 but apparently i'm not very good at filtering because i can't really find anything aside from the 3 or 4 i've read already. feel free to ignore this if you don't have any or just don't feel like answering! thank you either way<3 (also i just wanted to say i love your tma fantasy week fics, i read most of them at 3am and they made me so ridiculously happy)

thank you so much! 💛💛💛 i’d be happy to give some recommendations!

i’m not sure what you’ve already read, so i’ll just include everything!

(list begins below the cut)

The Sea Calls Me Home | jonmartin, rated T | Ao3: mothjons | tumblr: @mothjons

When Martin Blackwood takes a job working at Peter Lukas's estate, in the highlands of Scotland, he meets an odd man down by the shore, who looks at him like no one ever has. This man proves to be another secret Martin Blackwood must keep, for more reasons than one.

To be so sure of a love the world denies is a heavy burden to bear. But bearing it was, and will always be, a choice. And it's one that Martin has chosen.

Mer!Jon, Historical AU! One of my favorite TMA fics. Heavy on the angst but has a happy ending, and the writing is beautiful!

What Belongs to the Sea | jonelias, lonely eyes, jonmartin, rated M | Ao3: TwoDrunkenCelestials, WhyNotFly | tumblr: @twodrunkencelestials, @apatheticbutterflies

“My grandmother taught me about selkies,” said the tattooed man. “Said it’s good luck for them to grace your ship. To treat ‘em right, and they’ll guide you safe.”

It had seemed like a reasonable thing to believe.

Selkie!Jon, angst with happy ending. Has darker themes, so be sure to heed content warnings! The endgame ship is jonmartin.

Breathe in the Salt | jonmartin, rated T | Ao3: SqueeneyTodd

Martin Blackwood works in a lighthouse that echoes too much against a sea he doesn't care for.

The lighthouse isn't meant to have people in it.

Selkie AU focsed around mystery! Martin’s mother is a selkie and he works at a lighthouse that has some very strange happenings. Jon, Tim, and Sasha come to investigate.

as the clouds roll by | jongeorgie, jonmartin, rated T | Ao3: PitViperOfDoom | tumblr: @pitviperofdoom

If Jon had a penny for every time someone stole his coat and told him it was for his own good, he would have two pennies. It wasn't a lot, but it still happened twice.

Selkie!Jon, angst and hurt/comfort. Featuring terrible person Jurgen Leitner and Kitsune!Georgie. This is the prequel to and i won’t let you choke which is also excellent!

kith, kin and tread softly | jonmartin, timsasha, rated G | Ao3: bibliocratic | tumblr: @bibliocratic

Jon is 100%, bonafide human being before Beholding gets its hands on him.

This is not entirely true for the other members of his team.

and

Their existence narrows into endurance, survival. Knowing how hard every day is going to be and surviving it anyway, hand in unlovable hand.

Or: Despite everything, the OG Archive crew live through season 4.

Fantasy AU where Tim is a phoenix, Sasha is a mermaid, and Martin is a selkie. Featuring hurt/comfort, found family, and averted apocalypse

A Box of Sea-Scented Memories | jonmartin, rated G | Ao3: ArtificialDaydreams | tumblr: @artificialdaydreamer

When Martin was a child he moved to a small town by the coast and his best friend just also happened to be a seal who loved tuna fish sandwiches, headpats, and bringing him gifts. The shoebox of treasures was practically all he took with him when he left a year later.

Jonathan Sims' childhood friend has just returned after almost twenty years spent apart. Sadly Martin doesn't recognize him, and it's not like Jon can tell him about being a selkie. It's a good thing Martin has a lot of experience talking with seals, and Jon's an excellent listener.

Selkie!Jon, childhood friends AU. Very very cute, and seeing this plot bunny come to fruition has been lovely!

It Will Set You Free | jonmartin, rated G | Ao3: cinnamoniic | tumblr: @cinnamoniic

He’s heard the stories. He knows his mother wouldn’t take another step on land if she could help it, not anymore. It took a long time for him to feel comfortable walking alone on the beach without anticipating torches and pitchforks at his first footfall, skin-thieves and scoundrels looking to steal him away.

Martin’s supposed to avoid humans, but he’s never been great at resisting temptation. In the aftermath of a dreadful storm, he finds himself and his sealskin coat trapped in the home of his mysterious human crush, Jon.

Selkie!Martin, hurt/comfort. My favorite part of this fic is Martin not really understanding human things!

and, just to include some of mine:

to take the road less traveled by | polyarchives, rated G

Once upon a time, in a land divided by water and mountains and the hands of men into fourteen kingdoms, there was a prince. His name was Prince Timothy of the House of Stoker, ruling over the land of the fae, and though he was neither fae nor human, he would do as a prince should, even if his heart lay beyond, in the kingdom of ever-watching eyes. So when his father commanded him to venture beyond the land of the fae and into the spiraling forests of the Twisting Deceit, wherein lay a tower so high it was thought to touch the stars, and rescue a trapped princess from that tower, Prince Timothy donned the lightest of leather armors, plucked his bow from the armory, and left his kingdom behind in the glow of the rising sun.

Of Prince Timothy, his lovers, and a princess trapped in a tower.

Fantasy AU with Selkie!Martin (and others). A fairytale-style fic with multiple character perspectives coming together over the span of the fic.

delphinus | jonpeter, rated T

Three and a half weeks ago, Peter had packed enough supplies for four months, set sail from port, and had breathed in the salt of the sea with a relief that was as palpable upon his tongue as the taste of brine. He would cast a net over the side of his ship and inspect its contents for anything that might spark his interest (or, on occasion, make a sum of money). More often, though, he simply released the mass of wriggling fish back into the sea and settled for watching the sun dip below the horizon, with only the gentle rocking of the boat to keep him company.

Two and a half weeks ago, Peter had pulled the net over the side of his fishing boat, straining at the weight of it, and found a pair of sharp brown eyes staring back at him.

Mer!Jon, no fear entities AU. In which Peter is not as terrible as he is in canon and there is an approximation of fluff.

#tma #the magnus archives #fic rec list #anon #ask #i wasn't sure what ships you liked so i just included everything #feel free to ignore some if they make you uncomfortable!

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uhlikzsuzsanna · 3 years

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SPOILER WARNING: Do not read if you haven’t seen all of Season 1 of “Loki,” currently streaming on Disney Plus.

Ever since “Loki” first premiered in June, Kate Herron, who directed all six episodes of the Marvel Studios series, has had to pretend like she knew far less than she really does. For one, she couldn’t acknowledge that the homages to sci-fi classics like “Blade Runner” and “Brazil” that she’d baked into the elaborate sets for the Time Variance Authority — the cosmic bureaucracy tasked with maintaining the sacred timeline — were “meant to be sinister” rather than just “playful and quirky.”

For another, Herron was delighted to see fans theorizing after the very first episode that Kang the Conqueror — a character already set to appear in the Marvel Studios feature “Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania,” as played by Jonathan Majors — was really pulling the strings of the TVA. But until the finale streamed last Wednesday, she couldn’t even hint that those fans were only half right: Majors does play the mastermind of the TVA, but he’s a variant of Kang referred to as He Who Remains. It’s only after He Who Remains encounters Loki (Tom Hiddleston) and his female variant counterpart Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino), and Sylvie plunges a blade into his heart, that the multiverse is reborn, creating the possibility for Kang the Conqueror to emerge.

Again, though: Herron couldn’t acknowledge any of that, even to those closest to her.

“Nothing has prepared me better for working with Marvel than playing tabletop games with my friends,” she says with a laugh. “It definitely taught me how to have a good poker face. You have to hide your hand — and sometimes lie.”

Now, thankfully, all of that is behind her — as is “Loki” itself. Despite receiving widespread acclaim for her assured, ambitious, and visually sumptuous work directing the show, Herron says she has decided not to return for Season 2 of the series.

“I gave it everything — in my soul, in my heart, everything,” she says. “I feel so proud of the work we’ve done. And yeah, I’ll be enjoying Season 2 as a fan.”

She’s quick to sing the praises of everyone she worked with at Marvel, and she says she’s “sure” she’ll work again with the studio. For now, however, she’s ready to take a holiday, and then turn to a project she’s writing herself “that’s really close to my heart that I really want to make.”

“It’s my own decision, but I just feel like my part with ‘Loki’ is finished now and I’m just excited to see where his story goes,” she says.

Before she parts ways for good, however, Herron spoke with Variety about bringing Jonathan Majors into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, what she thought of the shocking revelation about infinity stones and what she would like to see happen in Season 2.

She always knew “Loki” would introduce Kang and the Multiverse…

From the very start, Herron says, she and head writer Michael Waldron knew that their six-episode run of “Loki” would always end with Loki and Sylvie meeting He Who Remains at his citadel, the result of which would cause the creation of the multiverse.

As Episode 6 makes clear, both of these events were massive turning points for the future of the MCU — and Herron still can’t quite believe she got to be the one to make them a reality.

“We were just, like, waiting to be told, ‘Actually, guys, we’ve had a change [of heart],'” Herron says. Instead, Herron says she and “Quantumania” director Peyton Reed participated in casting Majors in the role.

“I was just like, pinch me,” she says. “I can’t believe I was at the table for that, because I know it was such a big decision for them all.”

Herron also decided to have Majors provide the voices for all three “Timekeepers” who are supposedly at the head of the TVA, but are revealed by Sylvie to be nothing more than “mindless androids.”

“We didn’t have someone cast for those voices,” she says. “I remember thinking, well, ‘Wizard of Oz’ is clearly a reference for us. We should have the wizard. It’d be great if it’s Jonathan. So we sent him all the art of the timekeepers. And he just kind of came up with these incredible voices for each of them.”

…but not with a cliffhanger.

The most significant decision of the season, though, may be that it ends with a giant cliffhanger, when Loki discovers he’s in a brand new reality for the TVA in which Mobius (Owen Wilson) and Hunter B-15 (Wunmi Mosaku) don’t even recognize him. But while Herron knew how this season of “Loki” would end, at first, she did not know that there would be any more seasons after it.

“When I started, there wasn’t a discussion of Season 2, exactly,” she says. “It was just that season of ‘Loki.’ As we got deeper into production, everyone was very happy, and obviously there’s so much to explore with Loki. It felt like we should continue the story. So I think the cliffhanger ending came in later in the process.”

Herron says she sprinkled in some hints to viewers that Loki is in a new timeline, like redressing sets to look slightly off, and recasting Eugene Cordero’s TVA receptionist Casey as a hunter headed to the armory in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. But her favorite bit is that the final line — said by Mobius to Loki — is the same as the first line spoken in the show, by a woman in the Gobi desert, also to Loki: “Who are you?”

“That was kind of the question of the whole first season,” Herron says.

She was just as shocked about the Infinity Stones as everyone else.

In the first episode, Loki discovers to his horror that not only does his magic not work inside the TVA, but Infinity Stones — heretofore believed to be the most powerful objects in the known universe — are just inert rocks there. The revelation sent shockwaves across the Marvel fandom; Herron was right there with them.

“That was in Michael’s script when I first got it to pitch [for the directing job],” she says. “I remember being like, ‘WHAT?! You put me through so much!’ But then I thought, ‘Oh, it’s kind of genius, because it shows how powerful the TVA are. Who are these people? What is this place?'”

Herron especially appreciated how her shock — and the audience’s — mirrored Loki’s own as the rug gets pulled out from under him. “I was quite excited by it,” she says. “It really shows you that there’s a new power in the MCU — and it’s not what we we spent the last decade dedicating our lives to.”

She told Kevin Feige she wanted gender parity among her crew.

Prior to “Loki,” Herron’s most high profile job was directing the second half of the first season of the Netflix dramedy “Sex Education.” She got the “Loki” job thanks to a 60-page pitch memo that filled out just about every detail of the world of the show. After hiring her, she says Marvel Studios chief Kevin Feige asked her, “What are your terms?”

“This was the first time I was gonna get to hire my heads of department on a television show I worked on,” she says. “I was like, I’d really love [the crew] to be 50/50 across gender.”

Herron says she wasn’t out to fill any jobs on the film with a specific gender. But, she says, “There aren’t enough women in these roles. They’re out there. It’s a lack of opportunity. It’s not a lack of interest.”

She did end up hiring two women for critical roles that are still rarely occupied by women: cinematographer Autumn Durald (“The Sun Is Also a Star”) and composer Natalie Holt (History’s “Knightfall”).

“I felt like she was inside my mind,” Herron says of Durald. “We have the same taste. And I love the way that she talks about light as a character.”

Herron hired Holt unusually early for a composer, after she’d completed editing the first episode during the pandemic shutdown. She knew that the particular sci-fi film noir look of the show that she was developing with Durald needed similarly unique music, and she liked that part of Holt’s pitch was focusing on Loki’s identity as a character.

“Her music then started to inspire how I wanted to shoot other scenes,” Herron says. She’s especially enamored of Holt’s vision for her dynamic and foreboding theme for the TVA.

“She was like, ‘Oh, let’s have that theme be Kang’s’ — well, He Who Remains, I guess, in our show. But I hope that will go on to be Kang’s theme. That was the real fun of it is that you feel like he’s really played a hand now across the whole show, because you realize that music is his music.”

Herron, Durald, and Holt all deliver distinctive and superlative work that’s nothing like the MCU has quite seen before — and nothing quite like anything previously in their careers, either. And that’s entirely the point.

“I think for us, it was about just showing people what we could do and that we could do it at this level,” Herron says.

The episode in which Loki comes out as bisexual was inspired by Alfonso Cuarón and Richard Linklater.

Every episode of “Loki” features multiple extended scenes of two characters just talking to one another, a rarity in a comic book production. Herron says that cutting Episode 1 together during the pandemic lockdown and seeing the scenes between Loki and Mobius (Owen Wilson) play out so well “definitely gave us confidence” to continue that rhythm for the rest of the show.

That was especially true for Episode 3. Written by Bisha K. Ali (who went on to create the upcoming Marvel Studios series “Ms. Marvel”), the episode is essentially an extended meet-cute between Loki and Sylvie as they get to know each other on a planet doomed for total annihilation.

“Bisha’s reference was ‘Before Sunrise’ and ‘Children of Men,'” says Herron. “And it lit my brain on fire. It was kind of weird. It was almost like a bottle episode in the sense that we’re just with the two characters, but obviously, it’s Marvel, right? So they’re bonding in this Apocalypse, which also feels very Loki at the same time.”

That episode is best known for making Marvel Studios history, when Loki casually mentions that he’s had dalliances with both men and women. Herron says that when she first interviewed for the job, she asked if the show was going to acknowledge Loki’s sexuality, which had long been established in the comics as bisexual or pansexual.

“I think everyone wanted to acknowledge it,” she says. “It was just really about giving a care and consideration and doing it in the right way. I think everyone knew it was gonna be quite a big moment. So it was just really about doing it in a way that felt respectful. And honoring it.”

Herron also confirms what many fans had suspected, that she deliberately made the lighting scheme for the scene evoke the blue, purple and red of the bisexual flag. “We knew what we were doing with that scene,” she says with a smile.

She has a lot of ideas for what she’d like to see in Season 2.

Since Herron will be watching Season 2 of “Loki” only “as a fan,” she is also free to wildly speculate as to what she’d most like to see happen — like how, wherever Loki story leads, “we’ve opened the door” for the character to explore his sexuality with men as well as women.

Otherwise? She says she wants to know where Judge Ravonna Renslayer (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) goes to when she leaves the TVA in search, she tells Mobius, of “free will.”

“I love her,” Herron says. “Gugu used to always call her an indoor girl, which made me laugh, but she is. She’s in the office, but she used to be this kick-ass Hunter. So I’m like, Okay, well, where’s her path going?”

Herron is also keen to learn more about Hunter B-15’s backstory — since she deliberately decided to hide it in the scene in Episode 4 when Sylvie shows B-15 her repressed memories as a variant.

“I was like, we shouldn’t see her memories,” Herron says. “It’s a character that thought they had power and realizes they have no power. It felt really powerful to at least give her some power in that scenario. The memories are private. They’re hers.” She pauses. “Also as a fan, I’m like, ‘Oh my God, who is she?!'”

“And obviously, you know, Loki and Sylvie?” Herron continues, on a roll. “He’s in a completely different reality. What’s going to happen to him? How will he get back? Or will he get back? And where’s Sylvie? She’s still in the Citadel? And the multiverse of it all. What the hell is going to happen?!”

Herron chuckles at her own excitement. “So I think there’s so many questions to be answered, and so much more road to travel with all our characters,” she says. “You know, I’m really proud that I got to set up Loki’s story here. But there’s so many different aspects of his identity and personality that’s yet to be explored. I’m excited to see where it goes.”

#Loki #Loki series #Tom Hiddleston #Kate Herron #Jonathan Majors #variety interview #2021.07.17

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jjadegreen · 4 years

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ITS SPOOKY SEASON BABY !!!

And that means making spooky aus for no reason other than fun<3

In summary- jjba part 1-6 but there’s no stands/Hamon and they all exist at the same time AND everyone is a spooky monster!!! I included as many characters as I could but it’s quite easy to run out of creatures, so bear with me on a few of them. Also the joestar bloodline is just gonna all be George Joestars kids because I said so!

Also, this is all really dumb but it’s just for fun so it’s ok💕

*minor TW for mentions of death!!! Nothing graphic but I’d rather be safe

Jonathan: Frankenstein

Not exactly like the traditional Frankenstein’s monster but whatever!!

Used to be a regular kid until he died in his 20s along with Erina :(

His father, who is still alive here, doctors the hell out of his dead son and boom. Franken-son.

Most body parts are his but he lost some in his death... so like, one of his legs is just some random guys.

He is still very Jonathan... a sweet boy... beloved.

He loves flowers and plants and such!

Married to Erina!!!

Joseph: werewolf

Tbh I just feel like werewolves give off himbo energy

Ran into some spooky woods next to the Joestar mansion as a kid and came home with a wolf bite and a cool new form

The exact same as regular Joseph but with more dog attributes

Our boy will chew on a bone if he finds one. He will chase tennis balls like his life depends on it.

Him and Caesar are rivals but the kind of rivals who fight on the weekdays and watch shitty romcoms together on weekends

Jotaro: merman

Ocean man....... take me by the hand...... lead me to the land.......

Ok but in all seriousness. You know why Jotaro is a merman. Silly little ocean man.

Edgy bastard but he will go entirely soft if you bring out a sea creature

I have 0 idea how he became this. He probably pissed off an ocean witch or something and she made him a merman

H20: just add water type transformation. If he touches water, BOOM now he has a tail

He does not let that stop him

Kakyoin is his best buddy!! He also hangs out w/ Polneraff and Avdol

Jolyne: witch

Jolyne is just a lesbian witch. Is that too much to want

Idk anything about witches so I dunno!!! Maybe she just like. Decided to be a witch. I think there are real witches and I don’t want to disrespect anyone

Although she is the Halloween-y, pointy hat, black robe witch. She makes potions and stuff.

She has diverted her potion experience into cooking

She makes THE BEST fucking pastries

Josuke: werewolf (like father like son)

Even tho Joseph is not his dad here they give off similar energies

Joseph bit him while they were arguing and boom boom werewolf

In a band!!! With oku, koichi and yukako!!

Rohan is their manager

Best friends with Okuyasu and Koichi

He will cry if he doesn’t eat for 4 hours

Giorno: vampire

Vampire for obvious reasons

He’s technically everyone’s nephew because he’s DIOs son (who is biologically a joestar here)

He’s not in the mafia! He just hangs out with the bucci gang!

Despite having the ability to make it seem like he knows what’s going on, he never does

Never

Pudding cups are banned from the mansion because he will devour them in just a few seconds

Vegan, but will never pass up drinking the blood from someone he hates

You guys know I’d never stop at just the jojos

Erina: Frankensteins bride!

Died with Jonathan and was brought back the same way as him

Baker!!!

Very close with Speedwagon

Speedwagon: former ghost hunter

Our man was a ghost hunter until actually meeting a ghost (probably Reimi) and deciding that maybe he could just be a normal man instead

He lives with the joestars because he’s really close with Jonathan and Erina

He and Will were a ghost/vampire hunting duo

Will Zeppeli: former vampire hunter (who is now a vampire lol)

Once Speedwagon decided to just be friends with all the monsters he followed

Caesar: vampire

Don’t ask why caesar is a vampire even though that’s DIOs thing. Caesar gives off vampire energy.

He acts like he hates Joseph but believe me they are in love

Him and Suzie Q are the most powerful friendship you could imagine

Suzie Q: fairy!

Just a little fairy girl! That is it!

Badass bitch. Probably uses her tiny size to steal from everyone

Smokey: literally a normal dude

Caesar was going to suck his blood but decided that Smokey was too nice for that date

The joestars of course got attached to him immediately

Kakyoin: Tree Nymph

TREE MAN!!! TREE MAN!!!

His hair noodle is a branch that grows a cherry

Iggy: Cerberus type dog

Jotaros pet dog!!!

Absolute bastard

Avdol: Phoenix

Fire bird. Self explanatory.

Polnareff: centaur

Yes he still has the stupid hair. Would he be polnareff without it?

Avdol simp

Koichi: shapeshifter

He’s a shapeshifter because I said so even tho it makes no sense!!!

He does so many favours for everyone

In a band w/ oku, Josuke + yukako

Okuyasu: zombie

Why a zombie? Because Okuyasu has no brain

He’s a simple man. You put food in front of him and he eats it on sight

In a band w/ koichi, Josuke + yukako

Yukako: siren

I just feel like a long haired pretty woman gives off siren vibes

In a band!!! You have heard it three times you know the drill

Rohan: can transform into a dragon??? I guess???

I’m gonna be honest I’m just running out of ideas

Band manager

Tonio: can transform into a caladrius

@c-c-cherry told me this is some kinda healing bird??? I’m choosing to trust her don’t betray me Cherry

Reimi: ghost, obviously

No notes needed you get it. She’s a ghost

Mista: gargoyle

Stinky man!!! Stinky stone man!!! Never showers because he’s a stone man!!!

Bruno: angel<3

He’s already a perfect angel in the show why would I need to change that!!

Bruabba is canon He is married to Abbacchio

Abbacchio: demon

Goth demon man to contrast Bruno’s infinite light

He is married to Bruno because bruabba is real

Narancia: ghost

I’m literally just imagining narancia pulling so many stupid pranks as a ghost which is the whole reason I chose this for him

Fugo: reaper

Imagine like. Edgy son of the grim reaper who doesn’t want to be a reaper so he runs off and becomes friends with a wacky group of creatures. That’s fugo baby!

Trish: imp

Im almost out of ideas

Probably half human? Diavolo would definitely be an imp as well

——————————————————————————

This was very bad but fun

Thank u Cherry for being my emotional support while I tried to come up with so many different monsters

Also yes!! Some of them aren’t exactly monsters but I am just a little creature who doesn’t want to spent a week looking for the perfect monsters for every character

Love you all mwah mwah

#jjba #jojos #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jojo #long post

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granills · 3 years

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Careless Whisper {B.H.}

Check out the first chapter here or on my wattpad (nigarrmtvseries) 💙🌅

2. Ice Creams, Dreams.

The day after was Saturday, the first day of Mars's weekend. Surprisingly enough, she didn't have to work this time. After going home the previous night, Joyce had called Mars and told her to enjoy the weekend pointing that she needed some free time to gain more energy and that she herself could've managed everything at the store.

Not knowing how to spend her day yet, Mars pulled a shirt over her head and went to the kitchen. Her father, John Crawford, was sitting at the table near the window, a daily paper and coffee in front of him, as per usual. John would remind you one of those men who could catch everyone's attention in the room by talking about his adventures so passionately, making other men and women sit closer and listen to him with great interest. This factor also helped him to become a history teacher at Mars's school. Luckily for her, he started teaching there after she graduated.

Her mother, Mary Crawford, was standing at the counter, she spread the butter over the toast and covered it with one layer of cottage cheese. There was a joy in how she did it, the smell of warm toasts filling the kitchen. Mary didn't like when Mars skipped the breakfasts, and always made sure to accidentally drop something in her bag for her to eat later at work.

"Morning." Mars didn't have an appetite early in the morning and decided that one glass of water would be enough. For now.

"Oh, how nice of you, young lady, to finally join our breakfast." Mr. Crawford spoke with a hint of sarcasm, moving his newspaper aside. "Mary, I didn't know our kids live with us after all."

Mars smiled turning around and putting the glass on the counter.

Mary put the toasts on the table and sat down. "I think she just took the wrong keys." She played along.

"Today is just my day off." Mars approached her parents, standing between them and crouching to give them both a kiss. "See, now I even want to eat." She said and sat down checking if the teapot was hot before pouring herself a cup of tea.

Her mother sent her a surprised glance and leaned back a bit to share glances with John.

"So, how's the school, dad?" Mars asked, taking a slice of toast and putting some raspberry jam on it.

John continued reading his newspaper, drinking his coffee from time to time.

"The semester is about to end and I feel like I'm talking to myself at the class about the historical discoveries. I have some boys who participated in discussions, but these days they are distracted by the new girl."

"The new girl? By the end of the semester?" She asked.

"Yes. Maxine Mayfield, from California. Her stepbrother picks her up after school. Unpleasant guy." He grimaced at the last sentence.

Mars hummed putting down her cup. "I'm sure there are other kids who would like to participate in your discussions, they are just shy."

"Well, the only historical facts kids want to know about these days are UFO and that is not exactly my cup of tea." He answered not taking his eyes from the paper.

"Mr. Clarke could help them with that." Mars said, taking a bite of the toast and enjoying the sweet taste that filled her mouth.

"Exactly. And that is why they love him more." Her dad answered, she noticed a faint note of sadness in his voice.

Mars looked up, feeling the tiniest bit guilty. She wanted to remember when was the last time she actually talked to him and the first thought that came to her mind was when she'd had a fight with some kids at the primary school, instead of scolding her, he praised her that she'd kicked their asses. Not in front of mom for sure.

She walked up to him and hugged him tightly. "Oh, dad, I love you." John smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, gently rubbing her arm. "And that is enough."

"I know, I know. As long as you, young lady, show up often at home." He laughed and winked at Mary.

/ / /

After the breakfast Mars finally decided that she has to get out of the house so things wouldn't get more emotional. Having agreed to meet with Rose outside the arcade, Mars pinned her hair up and went on to choose an outfit.

She wanted to put on the jeans that she'd left on the chair the day before after work, but her eyes stopped on jean shorts. She loved wearing too many clothes, but with the heat from outside it was impossible.

That is why autumn remained her favourite season. She grabbed the shorts and picked a shirt, of a dusky grey colour with blue "Queen Tour '80" writings on it.

Mars put on her colorful socks and white nikes, and finally left the room, noticing on the way that the house was empty.

She saw Rose at the entrance of The Palace. Rose was in a pink dress with green leafs on it that always reminded Mars about the one she had in childhood. Rose was the only one who would play with Mars at the playground when they were six. And throughout her life they spent more time together, went to the same school and eventually met Nancy. Ever since they have been hanging out together.

However, Nancy was working as an intern now at the Hawkins Post with her boyfriend, Jonathan, and that often restricted them from seeing each other.

"Wow, Ms. Alwaysbusy showed up!" Rose waved with an ice cream in one hand and hugged Mars.

"Shut up, Rose." She hugged her tightly. Rose was lucky, she has been accepted to the university and was going to move to another state by the end of summer.

"Spare me and get me out of this playground." Rose said looking back at the arcade which was already filled with kids. With the arrival of summer, the arcade opened from the early morning. Mars was sure, at this rate they would have to change working hours to 24/7.

Mars walked towards, suddenly stopping in her tracks when she noticed her little sister and some of her classmates among other kids. They gathered around a familiar girl who was playing Dig Dug. And apparently, she was good at it. Redhead. She felt even more confused than before and looked away.

"Okay, let's go to Starcourt. At least, I'll have Steve and Robin's ice cream, and not this." Mars pointed at the ice cream Rose was holding.

"Ugh, Steve and his stupid ego are too much for me to handle." Rose took her by the elbow and they walked along the streets laughing.

Once they arrived, they enjoyed some sweets and more ice creams, Mars clearly enjoyed Steve's attempts to joke, i.e. flirt with Rose.

"Now what's on the menu?" Rose asked.

"Me 'n u." Steve put the ice cream bowl on the table and sat down next to Mars and Robin.

"Harrington, I'll throw up if you keep making these jokes."

When the evening came, Rose suddenly suggested going to Nancy's, supposing she'd already be back from work. They spent the whole day shopping and just fooling around, and Nancy's house was closer, about 30 minutes by foot.

"Are you sure about that? We usually planned these things before meeting." Mars furrowed her eyebrows, she wasn't sure if it would be right to go there when Nancy's parents were at home.

Rose shrugged. "I am. Karen Wheeler adores us." If Rose had thought of something, then she was going to do that no matter what, there was nothing in the world that could stop her.

At half past seven they were standing in front of Wheelers' house, but before that they made sure to buy some sweets and beverages for a small sleepover. Mars and Rose stood at the threshold and Mars rang the bell.

Nancy was the one to open the door and though they saw each other recently, Mars noticed some colour brought back to her cheeks, Nancy looked better and it made her happy. After all, it wasn't for everyone to endure what had happened last year. Everything seemed to get back to normal.

"Girls?!" Nancy exclaimed.

"I bet you didn't expect us." Rose casually walked in and hugged her.

"But luckily we brought some food!" Mars showed the bag and joined them.

The rest of the evening went surprisingly fast. They changed into pyjamas that Mars and Rose had bought earlier at the mall and it seemed that they discussed everything that night. Mars missed these sleepovers, mostly because it made her feel a soft joy as it brought back the memories.

Nancy's father was probably sleeping on the couch when Mars went downstairs to get a glass of water. She heard his snoring while walking down the stairs. Nancy and Rose were already sleeping and Mars too was sleepy, but she would have been fully satisfied if she had the glass of water.

She suddenly felt a coldness reaching her bones, making her take a deep breath. Goosebumps ran all over exposed body as she looked up and discovered that the front door was wide open. She blinked a few times, guessing it was all a dream, she pinched her arm realising the door was indeed open and the house was silent.

Mars took a deep breath and stepped forward to close the door. Why was it even open? Did Mrs. Wheeler go for a walk? If not, then she distinctly remembered having closed the door as she'd came in after Rose.

Slowly approaching, she jumped up when she saw the silhouette of a man standing outside the Wheelers' threshold.

He was still wearing his blue jeans and black boots, the only thing that differed from the day before, was his red shirt unbuttoned almost till the last button and dark brown jacket on top of it.

"Hi," he looked her up, a wide smile plastered on his face, "...Mars."

She widened her eyes, staring at his unbothered physiognomy. "William?" She automatically uttered.

"Call me Billy." His gaze didn't hesitate when she met his eyes, and they stared at each other for a few seconds, until she took a step back all of a sudden. She wondered wouldn't have she survived if she didn't come for the damn water.

"What are you doing here?" She asked looking around, trying not to show her hesitation.

"Oh, I'm looking for my sister, Max. Mrs. Wheeler agreed to help me." He told her, his tone sounding completely nonchalant.

"Max? Max Mayfield?" She asked, suddenly all traces of sleepiness leaving her.

"I guess, I just found her then."

"No, no, she's not here. I'm just-" She quickly said, but immediately felt agitated when she noticed she couldn't finish the sentence. Luckily, she was interrupted by Karen's voice coming behind her.

"Oh, darling, aren't you cold? It's chilly here." She put her arm around Mars's shoulders.

"Um, yeah, I just came down for a glass of water." She mumbled, not knowing why she felt like explaining herself. "Goodnight."

She turned around and quickly ran upstairs before they could say anything. Only she heard Billy's faint "Bye" and as she reached the second floor he was thanking Mrs. Wheeler for giving the address of Byers.

When Mars entered the room and closed the door behind her, she approached the window looking at the empty streets, and feeling odd. Somehow she was glad that the conversation with the stranger got interrupted, as she couldn't feel calm near him. After all, the conversation wouldn't have gotten any more interesting and he wouldn't have thought about her anyway, and although she was disappointed a bit for a reason that she didn't get to know more about him, she too wouldn't have thought about him.

After thinking a bit she realised it was too late and it was time for her to try to sleep. Meanwhile, after getting the address and smoking his red Marlboro leaning against his car, in the dim light of streets, Billy Hargrove was looking at her.

]]

tags: @gehrzilla @infinitelycharmed23 @itsjusttaralove @tenderhornynihilist

Tagging people who commented on the first chapter, if you want to be removed/added under next chapters, please let me know! Comment/reblog if you enjoyed. :) mmuah

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove #stranger things #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #max mayfield #nancy wheeler #karen wheeler #steve harrington #careless whisper #billy hargrove x oc #steve harrington imagine #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery

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celosiaa · 4 years

Text

Submission by @entitynumber5: Hi Connor, I hope you’re having a WONDERFUL birthday and that you get to take a break from studying to do the things you enjoy and just have the lovely day you deserve!!! For this morning’s “write what I like” sprint (trying a new method of getting it all out before I have to put the brain into study mode), I wrote a lil something about 🎃 spooky season birthdays 🎃set in the Emmaverse… which turned out kind of long and a bit sappy. So there is no pressure to read it! I just love these characters :’) the working title is “Martin and Jon get proven wrong by an adorable five year old”.

Content warnings: brief mentions of blood, alcohol and minor injury (in relation to Martin working a Halloween paramedic shift); food.

Emma is obsessed with birthdays. Just not her own.

She turned five in May, and no matter how special they tried to make the day—with rainbow layer cake and carefully-selected presents and a visit to the roller-skating rink with her best friends—she didn’t seem half as excited as when it was someone else’s birthday. She would hardly sleep the night before friends’ parties. She spent hours wrapping the presents she picked for them with ribbons and bows and even confetti stuffed inside the paper. The only time they could encourage her to practice the piano for her weekly lessons was when she played the Happy Birthday song over FaceTime for her friends’ birthdays that were during school holidays.

The only thing Emma seems to have held onto from her own birthday is the notebook given to her Georgie and Melanie. Martin seems to remember there being two: one with little cartoon ghost drawn in the front by Georgie and the other with a scribble of the Admiral by Melanie. But Emma only carries the one around with her everywhere, and Martin is starting to doubt his own memory about there being a duplicate.

She has it with her now, as they sit outside the lecture theatre where Jon is currently teaching. In the too-big chair beside the door, her legs swing as she holds the notebook very close, staring intently at its pages while she wriggles her fluffy purple pen in thought.

“Daddy,” Emma says, in that voice that means she has a Very Serious Question, “When is your birthday?”

Martin is still a little dazed from nearly a week of night shifts. It’s the first time in six days that he hasn’t been working or sleeping at this time in the afternoon, and while walking with Emma to Jon’s work to surprise him at the end of the day seemed like a nice idea in practice, he really wishes he was lying on the sofa. They could be watching Peppa Pig for the thousandth time. Or getting started on dinner, which he isn’t going to let Jon make after a long day of teaching. He’s been mentally calculating how many hours it is until he can go to bed, how many tasks he has to do before then.

This feels like a selfish thought, though, and he pushes it aside quickly in favour of smiling at Emma. “My birthday?”

“Yes,” Emma replies, still very grave, “That’s what I said. At school today, Miss Jones made us all put stickers on the big calendar on the wall for our birthdays. I wrote down all of my friends’ birthdays.”

“That’s nice.”

“And now I want to write down yours.”

“Okay, well, my birthday is next month.”

Emma frowns. “Next month. That’s…” she counts on her fingers until she seems to reach the answer she’s looking for. “October?”

“It is!” Martin grins. “Well done.”

Emma’s little frown doesn’t ease. “What day?”

“Well, do you know how many days are in October?”

Emma thinks. Shakes her head.

“There are thirty-one days in October,” Martin tells Emma, “And my birthday is on the very last day.”

Emma nods and returns to her notebook, slowly enunciating the words as she writes them down: “Oc-to-ber three-one.”

Martin wonders if Emma realises his birthday coincides with Halloween. Besides birthdays, she still doesn’t seem too interested in dates, no matter how many times her teacher makes her write them at the top of every page in her workbook. And during previous years, they celebrated Martin’s birthday the day before or after Halloween itself, so they can separate the two events, although perhaps she doesn’t remember.

Before Martin can ask, the door of the lecture theatre opens and students start filing out. Emma puts away her notebook and pen, her frown of concentration replaced by a glowing smile as she waits, bouncing excitedly in the chair, for her Baba to notice them waiting just outside.

“Jon,” Martin whisper-shouts as he tiptoes into the house after his shift, hoping he doesn’t wake Emma—but that his husband knows it’s urgent. “Jon, Jon, Jon.”

Jon emerges from the kitchen, wearing a pair of yellow washing up gloves dripping soap suds and a look of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Martin ushers him back into the kitchen and shuts the door as quietly as possible, hoping it won’t wake Emma—or, worse yet, the cats, who will sit outside any closed door and cry to be let inside no matter what activity they were engaged in before.

“Martin,” Jon says, “What’s going on?”

“They just released the shifts for the next few weeks,” Martin replies, “And I’m working.”

“Well, good. I should hope so.”

“On my birthday.”

Jon’s expression merges into one of comprehension: Emma. And her newfound obsession with birthdays. “Ah.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t suppose you could swap shifts with someone?” Jon asks.

Martin sits down at the table, lowering his head into his hands. He wants to shower, change out of his paramedic uniform, but he knows he won’t be able to focus on anything else until they’ve had this conversation. “No one’s going to willingly take a Halloween shift. For a start, Andrew is terrified of clowns. And people are usually drunk, and it’s actually really hard to tell the difference between real and fake blood.”

“We could celebrate the day after,” Jon says, taking off the washing up gloves and sitting opposite Martin. He reaches across the table to take Martin’s hand. “I mean, you were born five minutes before midnight. It wouldn’t be a lie so much as a… slight shifting of the truth.”

“Jonathan Sims.” Martin gapes across the table at him. “Are you suggesting we lie to our daughter?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, Martin,” Jon says again, “I’m simply suggesting we separate your birthday from Halloween, as we have done every year, and not draw attention to the fact because our daughter is currently obsessed with other peoples’ birthdays.”

“And it might upset her if she knew we were actually celebrating on the wrong day.”

“Exactly.”

Martin sighs. “I don’t know. It feels… sort of wrong.”

“Apparently, children under the age of seven have no concept of the passing of time and—”

“Did Tim tell you that?”

“No.”

“Oh, god. It wasn’t Helen, was it? Please tell me you haven’t been having philosophical discussions about parenting with Helen again.”

“Martin,” Jon interrupts, “It was in the parenting book you gave me.”

“Huh. I don’t remember that chapter. Oh, god, maybe I should re-read it. The whole thing. Beginning to end. I—”

“Martin.” Jon squeezes his hand. “You deserve a day of your own. Tim and Sasha already agreed to take Emma trick-or-treating on Halloween. She will be focused on that for most of the day; she’s already talking about how excited she is. Let us spend the day after that treating you to all the wonderful things you deserve on your birthday—and every day.”

Martin manages a small smile, although every instinct inside of him is telling him not to accept Jon’s proposal. Not because he is worried about the ethics of manipulating their daughter’s concept of time—although this is a concern, too—but because he doesn’t want Jon to feel like he has to do any of this. To make a whole day about him, even if he takes great pleasure and care in doing the same for Jon on his birthday.

“Thanks, Jon,” Martin murmurs.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now, why don’t you go and have a warm shower? I’ve put the hot water on so it shouldn’t run out while you’re in there this time.”

Martin smirks. “Are you saying I smell?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Martin presses, teasing now. “Because I did have to treat a farmer who’d been kicked by one of his cows this evening.”

“Okay, alright, yes. Yes, you smell. Please go and have a shower.”

Martin laughs and gets up from the table. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“That really is disgusting, Martin.”

“It’s actually a pretty funny story. About the farmer, I mean. He’s fine, by the way. I’ll tell you about it when I’m out of the shower.”

Jon shakes his head. “Why today, of all days, have you abandoned the notion of showering before you sit down at the dinner table?”

“I had something important to tell you!”

“Fine. Alright.” Jon shakes his head again. “Now please have a shower. For your sake as much as mine.”

“Love you,” Martin sing-songs as he exits the kitchen. He hears Jon’s gentle laugh chase him into the warmth of the bathroom, where Jon has put on the radiator and left him a fresh towel. He smiles, feeling his love for Jon balloon in his chest, and settles into the sensation being home.

Martin’s Halloween—and birthday—shift is so busy that he barely has time to check his phone. Tim has sent an album of photos of him, Sasha and Emma out trick-or-treating, dressed as Mike, Sulley and Boo from Monsters, Inc. Jon has been updating him on the number of trick-or-treaters who have visited their house (fifty-four, as of ten thirty p.m.), and how Iris and the cats are holding up with the constant ringing of the doorbell.

On his break, Martin quickly texts Tim to watch his glucose levels and not to forget his insulin (to which Tim replies yes, sir with a number of yellow heart emojis). He also texts Sasha to say she can take home any of the Skittles they get on their expedition, since they’re her favourite but Emma hates them. He tells Jon he loves him and to give Iris a pet on his behalf and that there’s some spare sweets under the sink, if they’re running low. Then it’s back to work.

The shift passes quickly, in the end. There is so much to do and no time to think about anything other than their patients. He does get given a toffee apple by someone dressed as a Minion at a student house party, and he narrowly avoids getting his face painted by twins who are the same age as Emma while his team are checking their mother’s twisted ankle after a fall trying to get to the door in time for a last-minute delivery of sweets. It’s not an awful shift, but it is, like always, exhausting and difficult in the same measure as it’s rewarding and hopeful.

By the time he gets home, all he wants to do is sleep. Emma is tucked into bed, fast asleep, while her nightlight projects solar systems onto the ceiling. Jon, too, is sleeping soundly with the cats for company. Iris barely looks up from her bed when he comes inside, but she gives a little wag of her tail each time he passes down the hallway to shower or get a drink of water. There’s a plastic pumpkin full of Emma’s sweets on the table, next to the empty bowl that had once been full of treats to hand out to their visitors.

Martin’s smiles—it looks like a night well-spent for his family—and this thought carries him through an exhausted shower before he crawls into bed next to Jon. Jon must be tired, too, because he doesn’t stir. Martin makes a mental note to check his joints aren’t playing up from all the getting up and down from the sofa during the trick-or-treat visits.

Sometime later, Martin wakes to the soft click of the door as it opens. He squints against the light bursting around the edges of the still-shut curtains, expecting to see Jon tiptoeing to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Instead, Emma is creeping inside, holding a tray of pancakes while Jon follows behind, balancing two cups of tea.

“Happy birthday!” Emma says, as she places the tray down on the bed next to Martin. “We made spooky pancakes!”

Martin rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up fully. He glances at the alarm clock next to the bed: 11:42 a.m. He’s been asleep for just over six hours, but it somehow feels longer and yet not enough. “It’s not—”

Jon clears his throat.

“Oh. Oh, thank you, Emma! These are wonderful.”

The pancakes are, indeed, spooky. Emma has used a pumpkin cookie cutter to shape them and then drawn on funny faces with fruit and syrup. No longer responsible for balancing the tray, Emma looks at Jon, a little uncertain, and Jon nods in encouragement as he places their cups of tea down on the bedside table.

“I made you a present,” Emma says almost shyly.

Martin smiles gently at her. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Emma.”

Emma pulls something off the tray. It’s the second notebook, the one Martin thought he’d imagined, wrapped in a glittery silver ribbon and some confetti streamers. She offers it to Martin, and he takes it carefully, holding it as if it might fall apart in his hands.

“You can open it,” Emma tells him seriously.

Martin unwraps the ribbon. Emma takes it from him, along with the confetti, perhaps to reuse for another present. Slowly, Martin cracks open the notebook to the first page. There is Georgie’s ghoulish sketch, alongside a new inscription in Emma’s handwriting: Sorted Poems By Emma K. Blackwood-Sims. For Daddy’s Birthday. October 31.

Martin feels something tender and soft unfurl in his chest, until he’s certain he is going to cry. He begins to flick through the pages, but Emma says: “Wait!”

Martin stops. “What is it?”

“Look.” Emma climbs on to the bed, elbowing her way into the space next to him, and reaches across Martin to open the notebook on the first page again, where her inscription is. She points at her name.

“It’s meant to say assorted poems,” Jon says, “But neither of us were sure how to spell it.”

Martin laughs, the sound a little wet and shaky with the tears he can feel building. Jon hates spelling. It’s his least favourite type of homework to help Emma with.

“Look,” Emma says again, “I wrote my name like yours!”

Martin smiles. “Blackwood-Sims? But that’s your name, too.”

“No,” Emma insists, “Emma K Blackwood-Sims. Like you! Like a proper poet.”

“Oh,” Martin murmurs, “Oh.”

He’s sure he and Jon will laugh about this later. Martin doesn’t actually have a middle name. Emma does, but it certainly doesn’t begin with K. But right now, he feels tears on his cheeks as he takes in his daughter’s hard work.

Emma reaches for his face, patting away his tears with the palms of her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” Martin replies, sniffling in an attempt to draw back the tears, “I’m happy. And I love you so, so much.”

Emma frowns. “Will pancakes make you feel better?”

“I’m alright, Emma. I promise. These are happy tears.”

“Pancakes always make me feel better,” Jon announces, climbing onto the other side of the bed and sliding back underneath the covers. He settles Emma down in the middle of them, handing her a mug full of juice. She doesn’t drink tea yet, but she doesn’t like to be left out when they do, so she has her own mug.

“These look wonderful,” Martin tells them, arranging the tray so they can all reach. Emma takes a plate and hands it to Jon, then does the same for Martin, before grabbing the final one for herself. “You’re getting very good at pancakes.”

“Baba said we can learn French toast next,” Emma says.

“Wow. That’s big.”

Emma nods. “It’s more difficult than normal toast.”

Martin chuckles. “It certainly is.”

They distribute the pumpkin-shaped pancakes between them. While they eat in bed, they tell each other stories about their Halloween night. Jon talks about the costumes of the people who visited their house, how many compliments they got on their pumpkin carving skills. Emma narrates her trick-or-treating adventure with Tim and Sasha. Martin shares the safest tales of his nightshift, the funny costumes he saw and the extravagant decorations at the parties they visited.

Martin is exhausted again by the time they’ve finished the pancakes. Jon insists on taking their empty plates back to the kitchen and making them another cup of tea, while Emma snuggles against Martin’s side. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not your birthday, Daddy,” Emma whispers.

Half-asleep until now, Martin grunts himself awake. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“I know it’s not really your birthday,” Emma tells him, not moving from where she’s clinging to his arm, “Your birthday was yesterday. On Halloween.”

“Oh, Emma, we—”

“It’s okay,” Emma says, “It’s like when we had a party on Saturday even though my birthday was on Wednesday because I had school.”

“Yeah.” Martin stokes his hand through Emma’s hair. “It is a bit like that.”

“I still get to say happy birthday.”

“You do.”

“But can we have a party on the right day next year?” Emma asks.

“For your birthday?”

“No, for your birthday.”

“Oh.” Martin laughs. “Yes. It might not be a party, if I have to work again, but we can do this. This is lovely. Thank you for being so thoughtful. And I’m excited to read your poems.”

“Baba said they were good.”

“Well, that’s high praise indeed.”

“It was fun.”

“That’s good. That’s what matters most when you make things.“

Emma wriggles around until she’s grinning up at him. “Can I read your poems now?”

Martin sighs, barely supressing a laugh. This isn’t the first time she’s asked. “Emma.”

She sticks her bottom lip out, pouting in a way that breaks Martin’s heart to the point where he can never turn her down when she’s looking at him like this. “Please.”

“Alright,” Martin gives in, “I’ll read you one tonight. Before bed.”

“Yay!” Emma’s grin grows even wider. "Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you. And I love you very, very much.”

“Love you, too.”

They settle back down. Martin dozes a little again, a smile on his face, as he thinks about telling Jon later that their daughter very much does understand the concept of time. There really are some things parenting books don’t prepare you for—like the way his love seems to grow with each day he gets with Emma and Jon, even when he thinks it’s impossible, that he already loves them more than any person can.

Some things are gifts even when they are not given as such, and Martin is beginning to allow himself to think of his life with his daughter and his husband as one. He didn’t ask for it with words or lists. He doesn’t know, even now, if he deserves it. But it’s his. And he will treasure it always.

Not featured: Martin realising what he’s agreed to and frantically trying to find a non-angsty poem he can read to his five-year-old daughter. Jon thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #jonmartin #emma #SDSFLSKFLKJFA AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #HANNAH HANNAH I LOVE THIS SOOOO MUCH #I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WROTE THIS OH MY GOD #this is so incredibly special to me I don't even know how to express it #oh my god this is so sweet and I loved every second of it #oh my friend #thank you so much #i love the way you write martin as ALWAYS #and Emma is so sweet here oh my goodness!!!!!#she takes after her dad by caring about other people's birthdays like that #i loved the way you talked about how exhausted he feels after working night shifts #and the lovely little moment where they're talking quietly in the kitchen #martin's musings about not deserving this #and feeling selfish for being so tired on jon's birthday #oh my god i can'ttttttt #i love this so much i'm gonna read it 8000 times #hannah you are fantastically talented #and such an incredibly kind soul #i truly wish we were not an ocean apart!!!#thank you for all the wonderful joy and kindness you bring to the world #you are so very loved #THANK YOU!!!!!!#<3 <3 <3 #submission

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puckngrind · 4 years

Text

What’s In A Name:8 - J. Toews

Chapter 8

Where we left off: Bekah accompanied Jon to the NHL100 Gala and he suggested they could live in Chicago together.

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 3,396

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Untitled.

His season ended in round 1 and anyone could see the disappointment all over Jon’s face for the first few weeks after being knocked out in four games. Bekah came to game 1 and wore the jacket he bought her with his name and number on the back. The conversation from LA still hung over their heads but was not discussed by either with the end of the season. Work was crazy for her and summer flew without seeing Jon much. She did take a Friday off in August to take the long weekend go see him at home in Canada. She could see why he spoke about home the way he did. It was peaceful even with the sounds of slap shots waking her up one morning. She toed out to the kitchen to see coffee already made and prepared to her liking of a splash of honey and cream. She hummed while taking the first sip realizing it was exactly how she made it. The large window in the back eliminated source of the sounds echoing through the house. Jon was working out on his mini rink in the backyard. She opened the door with nothing on but one of his old, warn UND shirts on.

“You are crazy Tae!” Bekah emerged with coffee in hand leaning on the railing of his deck. Jon laughs and starts to make his way to her.

“Determined is usually the adjective used Beks.” His sweaty lips dip down and brush against hers. “Determined. Also, good morning.”

He was very determined to get her to Chicago. He knew she loved the city but the conversation in LA was looming over every discussion of a weekend with him. It took a ton of effort for Brynn convincing Bekah to go for the Blue Jackets and Blackhawks game in October. She helped Bekah wiggle some of work accounts during a few lunches and wouldn’t stop talking about it until they booked their flight. Bekah was working so hard that she resisted at first but Jon was thankful for Brynn’s persistence got her to his city.

Brynn rolled her eyes when Bekah walks in from the parking garage in her playoff jacket within Toews airbrushed across the back and a I heart Chicago T-shirt under. “I’m happy for you friend but you are an Ohioan damnit!” Brynn laughs and links arms with Behkah so they can head to the arena.

Jon scored and had an assistant handing the Blue Jackets a lose. Brynn laughs as the two friends embrace near the locker rooms and head their separate ways. “Have fun you two.” She waves more at Jon than Bekah.

“Nice game Tae.” Bekah looks up at Jon as he takes her under his arm.

“I felt your energy, Baby.” He kisses her lips. “Let’s head home.” The words lingered but weren’t touched by either one.

Bekah loved the way Jon smelled post game. It was intoxicating especially as he pressed into her making her legs push hard into his ass while she moaned out his name loudly.

“Come on Beks.” Jon encourages feeling Bekah’s orgasm coming. His not far behind. Bekah’s back arches up and he works faster. Reveling in the way their bodies moved in sync.

“Jon, I...” She moans out while her toes curl tightly into his legs.

“Merde Beks! Je t'aime.” Jon grunts out as he climaxes and collapses into Bekah’s trembling body.

“Uh, what did you just say?” Bekah tries to catch her breath. “Tae?” Jon whinces realizing the gravity of his words. “Jon.” Bekah tries to move him but he just lays with his head in her neck attempting to catch his own breath. “Jonathan! What the hell did you just say?”

“It was French Beks.” He finally moves so she can see his face.

“You orgasmed in French? You’ve never... have you ever... wait. What did you say?” Bekah questioned.

Jon’s mind and heart are racing. Of course he loved her. But saying it in French while cuming wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to tell her for the first time especially when they hadn’t established anything beyond exclusivity. “Babe, I don’t know.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“I swear I heard t’aime. Isn’t that love?” Bekah feels the heat coming to her cheeks. Her hand swiping at sweat on Jon’s hairline.

“Beks. Maybe. I don’t tend to remember what we say in the moment. Plus my brain is hardwired for both languages. Remember, I learned French first.” Jon searches her eyes and sees a smile appear.

“Well that was new. I didn’t hate it but it was new.” She kissed his lip tenderly. “Does it mean something when you brain switches like that?”

“I don’t think so mainly comfort I guess but we’ve been pretty comfortable for awhile. Seriously Beks. I don’t think I’ve ever done it before, ever.”

“Interesting.” Bekah struggled her shoulder out of not understanding before kissing his lips and Jon was thankful for the dropped conversion.

Work picked up for Bekah again. Her firm was given the task of the Cannonball for the CBJ foundation. As the marketing department she was stressed. She took a few days at Christmas and spent them in Chicago. His family didn’t join this year because of the schedule but he was thankful to see her in the mist of maybe her biggest project yet. All-Star break came and went. Jon didn’t make the All-star team so he came to Columbus and spent time with her but mainly in bed then she was off to work. Brynn didn’t mind when he suggested lunch out and invited her knowing they had a standing lunch date.

The week of Cannonball Brynn walks in with flowers. “These were delivered for you.” Bekah could hardly see her tiny best friend over the ginormous bouquet. Bekah’s eyes bug out of her head when her eyes adjust to them. She has only received flowers once at her office and it was when her grandfather died and they were from Brynn and Derek not her boyfriend. Jon sent her flowers for her birthday but to her apartment and not to work.

“Holy shit Rin!” Bekah gets up to grab the flowers and places them on the ledge behind her desk.

“There is a card.” Brynn points towards the center of the roses. “I didn’t read it. Still sealed.” Brynn’s face lights up as Bekah fishes out the note and opens it.

To the purrdiest lady at the ball,

You have worked so hard and I’m so proud of you.

Always, Tae

Bekah’s heart skips a beat and her face has a smitten smile across it.

“Does he always end his notes that way?” Rin questions.

“What? Huh?” Bekah rereads the card and looks at her best friend puzzled.

“Always, Tae. Does he always sign things like that?” Bekah just nods gliding her fingers over the text. “Very similar to that tattoo you have isn’t it.” Brynn flicks her finger to Bekah’s left side where the Always yours tattoo was.

“He’s done it before seeing the tattoo.” Bekah’s brain remembering the note she kept in her wallet from when he gave her his jersey. Butterflies erupt in her stomach thinking about the similarities.

“Yeah, just adding to the list of your no name thing there Bekah.” Brynn breaks the silence caused by Bekah’s realization. “Those flowers are stunning! I’m gonna let you call that handsome man.” Brynn waves from the door and Bekah turns to inhale the arrangement of red and white roses.

She picks up her phone and calls Jon.

“You didn’t have to but they are beautiful. Thanks Babe.” Bekah hardly let’s him say hello.

“Oh, well deserved. You worked your ass off for this western rodeo campaign and I just wish I could be there to push you across that dance floor, Beks.” There was a silence that they both let happen.

“I miss you.” Bekah finally whispers.

“I miss you too Beks but I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

Cannonball got Bekah all nervous. She ended up wearing the same dress that she did for the NHL 100 gala with some major convincing from Brynn. “You worked hard, that dress is amazing why not wear it and we can enjoy ourselves.” It definitely didn’t go with the theme and Bekah considered if it was too much for an event she was technically at for work. The fundraiser was perfect. Being country themed the players showed up in hats and bolo ties. About half way through Bekah felt the weight of the project lift off her shoulders as she started to mingle among some of women from the Chicago trip and the team. Her comfort level in the hockey world had dramatically changed and even Seth Jones noticed it when they were talking. He had run into her and Jon at the All-Star game in 2017 that became the focal point of the conversation. Bekah crawled into bed way later than she expected and didn’t wake up until her phone was ringing before her alarm.

“Hey Tae!” Bekah knew it was only Jon calling that early.

“Why the fuck do I see Josh fucking Anderson’s arm around you on Twitter?” Jon chokes out through his teeth.

“Huh?” Bekah sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“I was looking through the tag from your event and scrolled to see a picture of that cocky new call up Jacket with his fucking arm around you. Bekah... I... I....”

“You need to breathe Jon. No one had their arm around me especially Josh.” Bekah grabs her tablet from the nightstand to find this picture. The mention of Josh’s name made Jon almost growl.

“Well it sure as hell looks like he’s all cozy with you.” Bekah can tell Jon is pacing the floor. She hears the hard thud of his feet even over the phone.

“Jon! We. You and me, we are exclusive. I’m not seeing or talking or flirting with any other man.” Bekah scrolls as Jon breathes heavily into the phone. She finally sees it. From the angle of the photograph it does looks like Josh’s arm is on the small of her back and not whatever he was propping himself on. A small smirk on Josh’s face as she is talking to Seth. “Jon, Honey, I’m looking at the picture right now and I was just talking to the boys. Seth was asking about what part of the All-Star game I enjoyed since he saw us in LA. The conversation was about YOU,Tae.” Bekah waits and hears Jon swearing in both French and English. “Jonathan Bryan Toews calm the fuck down. You have a game tonight and you cannot be all like this.”

“Like fucking what Bekah? Pissed that my woman is looking like she’s talking to another man and one that is in my profession and one that I have to play soon. Pissed that we won’t call this what it fucking is because we live in different states or are scared or whatever it might be? My head hasn’t been in the right space and it’s hard to lead a damn team when I’m this way.” Jon stops pacing and can hardly hear over booming from his pulse in his ears.

“I... I don’t know what to say Jon.” Bekah feels the prick at the corner of her eyes.

“Well maybe you need to figure that out. I need to get to the rink and settle down. I’ll talk to you later Beks.” Jon hisses and hangs up. Bekah pulled her pillow over her head and starts to cry. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying but she just did it. Jon’s word echoing in her thoughts as she did.

The two texted a few times in the next few weeks and even Brynn could feel there was something off. “Bekah, he’s coming in town tomorrow night after their home game. You need to talk to him.”

“Rin, please don’t.” Bekah looks up from the salad she’s just pushing around with her fork.

“Call what you two have whatever you want but it’s something and in the last few weeks you’ve been a puddle of a human instead of the annoyingly hot for Toews bestie I’ve come accustomed to. You two make each other better you know?” Brynn stares into her best friend’s eyes seeing all the confusion that was stirring.

“But Rin.” Bekah whispers.

“Just go talk to him.” Byrnn spells out and Bekah knew she was right.

She texted Jon asking to meet in the lobby. He said he had a late team meeting but could slip out for a moment. Bekah’s heart beat faster and her cheeks flooded red when she sees him walking towards her.

“Hey Beks.” Jon leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“I’ve missed you.” Bekah blurts out.

“I’ve missed you too.” Jon stands close but not too close. “What’s up?”

“We haven’t seen or talked to each other in awhile.”

“Yeah, we’ve been busy.” Jon rubs the back of his neck looking down at her and she sees his pocket buzz.

“I... I... fuck... why is this hard?” Bekah whispers almost to herself as Jon’s pocket buzzes again.

“Beks, I don’t know but I really have to go. Tomorrow night, after the game I’ll meet you down in the tunnels like always okay?” He dips down and kisses her cheek before jogging off.

Bekah shook off the odd exchange and the next day wore her Toews jersey as she had been doing the last few seasons. Brynn’s eyes were bright when she got into Bekah’s car and saw the familiar jersey but said nothing. The ladies were closer than normal for this game and when Jon skated by during warmups she saw a slight smile across his face.

The game was not great and Bekah could swear she saw Jon push Josh after the whistle and words were exchanged but when Brynn said she didn’t see anything she wrote it off as paranoia. The Blue Jackets won and when Anderson scored in the third Bekah felt Jon’s eyes on her while the entire arena erupted in cheers. After the game, as always, Bekah waited for Jon between the home and visitor’s locker rooms. Bekah getting chirped by a few of the player who saw her in the Toews jersey and recognized her from Cannonball. Bekah sees Jon and starts toward him. His expression soft as he makes his way to her.

“Bek-caw!” A booming voice behind her calls out. She turns to see Josh with his hands to his mouth. Seth, and Boone behind him in the tunnel. The boys all wave and she waves back then turns to see Jon standing in front of her. A grimace now flooding his face.

“Ready?” Jon pulls his arm tight around Bekah and she felt his whole body was tense.

“Yes, Tae. Let’s get outta here.” Bekah squeezed Jon and the two made their way to his hotel room. Once inside Jon drops on the bed kicking off his shoes but fully clothed in his suit. “I’m sorry Tae.” Bekah curls up into him and she can feel the tension radiating out of him. Jon finally groans and moves their bodies. Stripping Bekah’s clothes off first then his own in almost silence. Just the sounds of movement and kisses filled the air. He slinks down her body and presses his tongue into her core.

“Fuck Jon!” Bekah jumps and he presses his hand down at her hips to keep her body in place. He’s relentless and doesn’t let up after an orgasm rips through her body. His fingers curling into her as he sucks and flicks at her clit. Bekah yells out his name as the second orgasm crashes over her with even more of an intensity than the first. Jon only let’s up for a moment while he adjusts her legs and slams his throbbing cock into her. The room now filled with curses and moans. Jon biting at Bekah’s shoulder while she claws at his back. He thrusts hard into her then stops. Her eyes that are screwed shut fly open and the intensity of Jon’s eyes was a lot to take. Pupils blown, the look of want and a hint of something she couldn’t put her finger on before he rolled his hips out and slammed back into her. Bekah’s hands fly up to brace herself with the headboard. Jon’s hands move so he’s on his elbows with his lips ghosting her lips. “Mine.” He whispers then presses his lips on hers. Bekah feels Jon twitch deep inside of her which causes her body to climax again. Jon rolls off of Bekah. His hard expression softens and he kisses her then heads to the bathroom. She expects him to return but when the shower turns on she pads over to the bathroom.

“Tae?” Bekah looks into the shower and Jon’s forehead is pressed against the tile and the water is running down his back. He doesn’t move or answer. “Baby?” Bekah enters the shower and wedges herself between the shower wall and his body. Jon’s eyes closed and her hand comes to cup his cheek. “Jon?” Bekah runs her thumb across his cheek.

“I’m sorry Beks.” He opens his eyes and looks at her.

“Sorry for what?” She keeps her hand in place and blinks the spray from her eyes.

“For everything Beks. For everything but I’ll start with my behavior in bed just now.”

“Jon.” Bekah goes to kiss his lips and he moves.

“Let me finish. I got jealous. I got pissed off. I didn’t talk to you. I have let you and my team down. I just...” Jon takes a deep breath.

“Jon, let’s get out of the shower and talk okay?” Jon nods his head and let’s Bekah lead him out. She dries them both off and snuggles into his chest in bed.

“I’m sorry.” He says again and runs his hand down and up her arm then pulls her body flush with his.

“You keep saying that.”

“I mean it.”

“And the jealousy thing?” Bekah looks up at him.

“I couldn’t see beyond a poor camera angle and got angry that these local guys could see you almost daily. That they could easily have you if they wanted to.”

“But they don’t and they won’t.” She reassures him. “And the whole mine thing?” Bekah whispered out and rubs her shoulder.

“Fuck Beks did I hurt you?” Jon kisses the spot that already looks like it’s bruising.

“It was in the heat of the moment and I’ll be fine. But Mine Jon? The possessive sex thing isn’t exactly you.”

“I know. I just... fuck.... fuck... fuck.”

“You fuck?” Bekah laughs. Jon sits up on his elbow and looks down at Bekah.

“Bekah. I love you and I know we said we aren’t naming this but I love you and I’m a fucking idiot for not telling you this years ago.” Jon leans down and kisses her lips.

“Jon...” Bekah breathes out.

“And not just love. I don’t want to live without you honestly. When we leave each time it gets harder. When that hint of cinnamon smell from your pillow is gone I find myself in the kitchen trying to replicate it but it’s your smell. You. I want you. I want you to come to Chicago, run my new foundation, build a life with me, together. Je t’aime Rebekah. I said it once before and didn’t realize then that I meant it but I do.” He drops back down so their faces are inches apart.

“Jon.” Bekah places her head on his chest. He combs his fingers through her wet hair.

“You don’t have to say anything Beks. I don’t want you to say it back unless you mean it. I’m okay with being just this. Okay? Just know that’s what I want is more and if you don’t then we keep doing what we are doing but if you consider even a little bit of what I just said that we can start slow and not all at once. I’m in this for the long haul Beks.” He hand glides under her chin and slowly moves it to look her in the eyes and kisses her lips again.

“Okay.” Bekah quietly says.

“Okay? Okay to what Beks?”

“Okay....”

#what’s in a name fic #WIAN #jonathan toews fic #jonathan toews #tazer me 19 #love a damn blackhawk 🤦🏻‍♀️#happens in the 2017 2018 season #j toews fic #j toews

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ieatmypizzawithaforkandknife · 3 years

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MAG 022 - Colony

Summary: Martin Blackwood dictates his statement regarding “a close encounter with something I believe to have once been Jane Prentiss.”

So can we all agree that Martin is the most adorable person ever and needs to be protected at all costs? Because within the first minute of this episode he was firmly placed in the Smol Bean category of my brain, and there he shall forever be. I am quite certain I will end up crying about this man at some point.

I’m really glad I listened to this episode again after finishing the season, because even in the short time between this episode and the season finale, so much of my opinions on Jonathan himself and on the relationship between Jonathan and Martin have changed. I know, this episode was about Martin - but it was also the first time we actually got to see these two characters interact, as opposed to Jonathan just making offhand comments about Martin’s supposedly subpar work. (Poor Martin. Mean Jonathan.)

I love how Martin says, “I just want to make a statement about what happened to me. I mean...it’s what we do!” and Jonathan’s immediate reply is, “No, what we do is research statements - usually those made by liars and the mentally unwell.” His tone holds its usual amount of derision, but after listening to the last few episodes of S1, I can’t find it in myself to hold it against him anymore. (I never claimed to be good at reading people.) Towards the end of the episode, Jonathan tells Martin he can sleep in the Archive, basically doing what I think was the Jonathan version of reassuring him, by telling him how safe it is. His tone isn’t reassuring - it’s very factual, as he lists off all the different ways the Institute is a safe place and by telling Martin he’ll ask Elias about adding some extra security. But if Jonathan were just trying to get Martin to sleep there so he wouldn’t lose a research assistant, he probably could’ve just told Martin to stay there and Martin would’ve listened. He seems to care about Martin in a way that isn’t shown in his offhand remarks in previous episodes. And while there’s a slight admonishment when he says, “No, what we do is research statements”, it smacks more of a concerned admonishment than an angry one to me. Conclusion: Jonathan is, as always, terrible with people, but not because he doesn’t care.

I’m also wondering how much of the “No, what we do is research statements” line was Jonathan and how much was Elias. It reminded me of what Jonathan said when he was contemplating bringing up the Leitner situation to Elias in episode 17: “I know he’ll just give me the old “record and study, not interfere or contain” speech again”. In particular, the word “again” indicates it’s something they’ve butted heads on before. It’s interesting that in this episode Jonathan seems to take Elias’ position on the issue. It could be that he’s just trying to be responsible in a general sense and that he doesn’t want to be liable if anything happens to Martin. But, taken with what I said in the previous paragraph, it could also be read as “I’d like to discourage this man from further endangering himself in the future because I care about him and I cannot/do not know how to express this directly, so I will hide behind what my own boss has told me many times.”

On the subject of Martin himself - I don’t think I can properly express how much I already love this adorable, nervous man. There were just so many great lines from him in this episode, whether for characterization or for humor - and often it was both. The long beat of silence after “Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?” Also: “Look, I know you hate the word, but it was really…spooky.” And “I was heading home when I got to thinking, and…I was worried I hadn’t really done enough investigation for you”. And “I’ve catalogued and looked into enough of these cases to know that following the noise is always a really, really bad idea, but…I mean…it’s my job, isn’t it?” And finally, at the very end when Jonathan offers him a place to stay at the Archive, he’s so flustered, both at the offer and at the very idea that Jonathan believes him. He’s basically tripping over himself and cringing as he gives his own statement, so hung up on the idea that he won’t be believed or that this isn’t enough.

And who can blame him? If you really think about what happened to him...I can’t blame him for thinking he wouldn’t be believed or that no one would be concerned for his safety. From his perspective, he just spent thirteen days alone in his apartment with no electricity, no company, no way to communicate with the outside world - and, to his knowledge, not a single person checked up on him! Obviously that was a good thing, because if someone had come to his door, they would have been met with Jane Prentiss - but Martin went for almost two weeks without a single good night’s sleep, eating ready meals and canned food, being constantly startled by her knocking, and he had to have wondered, at least once, why no one even wondered where he was.

One key to Martin’s survival was that he had plenty of water: “Luckily there was no problem with my water supply, so I had plenty to drink. I’m just glad none of them thought to come up through the pipes.” I genuinely can’t tell if Jonny’s hanging a lampshade on the issue or if we’re supposed to wonder why the worms never came up through the pipes, but in any case I am wondering it. Another key to his survival is that, despite not having a peephole, Martin somehow knew when she’d gone - and he wasn’t entirely sure how he knew. He surmises that the musty smell surrounding her must have been gone, and he didn’t hear any knocking for a little while, but in the end he has to confirm her absence by simply opening his door - which, if he were wrong, would have led to certain death - or, as he says at one point, “worse”.

Another mystery to me is when Martin goes into the basement of the building on Boothby Rd the first time and this happens: “I didn’t like the way my shadow moved. The light from the window behind me cast it pretty clearly on the floor, and looking at it I swear the edges seemed to move…it’s was like a, like an undulation…like, like they were being shifted by something.” He doesn’t follow this up with “and then I noticed my ‘shadow’ was actually worms on the floor”, so this doesn’t seem like a Jane Prentiss thing to me, or a Carlos Vittery’s spider thing either. And if it isn’t associated with either of the two known Boothby Rd-related entities, then it was something else entirely, which has me worried. But that’s the only mention of anything like a shadow being “shifted” in this episode, so for now I’m hoping I’m just reading too much into things.

There were so many excellent visual descriptions in this episode, so kudos to Jonny as always, and in this case kudos also to Alex for the performance. Martin describes the Jane Prentiss worms as “maybe an inch long, with a silver segmented body that goes black at one end, almost like it’s been burned.” This could just be a general creepy description, but I would be remiss if I didn’t point out the “burning” imagery here, given all the times fire and burning have come up before, even though I’m not sure what specifically it might be connected to from previous episodes. More concrete, though, is the difference between Jane Prentiss’ clothing when Martin encounters her and what she was wearing in her first appearance in episode 6. Harriett Lee, her victim in that episode, told Timothy Hodge, the man who gave the statement, that she found Prentiss wearing a long red dress. By contrast, Martin finds her in the basement wearing “a threadbare grey overcoat, though beneath it her legs were bare” (so, she’s no longer wearing the long red dress) and holding “a stained green handkerchief.” The events of episode 6 occurred in late November 2014 - almost a year and a half before Martin’s encounter with her. So why was she still in that area after all that time? We know she isn’t physically unable to leave - she follows Martin all the way to his home in Stockwell. And where did she get the overcoat and the handkerchief? I’m assuming it came from another victim, though she could have stolen them I guess. As far as we know they never did follow up with Timothy Hodge, despite Jonathan noting in that episode that they probably should. Jonathan also hasn’t mentioned looking into missing persons reports from the area either, even though that seems to me like an obvious thing to investigate.

Speaking of investigating...my ears perked up when the owner of the building told Martin that Carlos’ cat now lives with the Sanderson couple in apartment 2. I immediately flashed back to episode 15 and Laura Popham’s missing (presumably dead) sister, Elena Sanderson. (I remembered the name because of the Sanderson sisters, of course. #90schild) I don’t think it’s an actual connection, though, for two reasons: First, it doesn’t fit the timeline. Elena went missing in June 2014, and this Sanderson couple apparently still lives in this building in early 2016. It could be a relative, or maybe she magically reappeared, but I don’t see any specific reason to think either of those things. Second, there are something like 20,000 people with that surname living in England (yay genealogy websites). If it were a less common name, I’d be more suspicious, but as it stands now I’m keeping it in mind but leaning towards it being a coincidence.

Some final thoughts on Jane Prentiss. She apparently “called herself to be a practicing witch and believed [herself] to be infected by a dangerous, unknown parasite.” This is the first time the word “witch” is mentioned in the show (unless you’re counting Julia Montauk going to see The Witches in episode 9 lol), but not the first time we have seen something, or someone, witch-like. There are almost too many examples of things that could be considered “magic” to list, but the ones that stand out to me the most as potentially witch-like are: Mary Key being alive and the bones falling out of the books in episode 4; Agnes Montague/Fielding/whatever her name is and her apparent agelessness in episode 8; Robert Montauk’s heart ritual in the shed in episode 11; the unnamed man’s chanting in the hospital in episode 12; and Angela in episode 14. I’m not sure how any of these might be connected, but now that the word’s been mentioned I’m considering it a possibility.

And lastly...“Keep him. We have had our fun. He will want to see it when the archivist’s crimson fate arrives.” Jonathan’s voice when he read that last part, man. Martin asks what it means, and he sounds genuine, but Jonathan...I think Jonathan was thinking the same thing I am: that “the archivist’s crimson fate” sounds an awful lot like the description of Gertrude Robinson’s death as foretold in the dream from episode 11, particularly in the description of the Institute: “It was this building into which all the veins flowed: every door, every window was solid with them. When the bursts of red light passed into it, the whole building glowed crimson.”

This post is part of a series where I write my thoughts about each episode and obsessively connect dots in an effort to figure out The Big Mysteries of the series. All posts in this series are tagged “is this liveblogging?” Comments and messages are welcome but I have only listened to season 1, so I ask that you not spoil me for anything beyond episode 40. In the words of Jonny Sims…thanks for listening!

Minor spoilers for a later episode in S1 after the cut.

Just have to take a moment to freak out about the fact that I completely forgot about Martin’s description of Jane Prentiss’ skin as “full of holes - deep, black holes just honeycombing every bit of flesh like a…wasps’ nest.” HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THAT HE USED THE EXACT SAME WORDS SHE DID IN HER STATEMENT. Like, I don’t know if it’s significant, or if the description just fit so well that Jonny wanted to reuse it, but...damn.

#personal #liveblogging #is this liveblogging?#The Magnus Archives #how do I always end up writing BOOKS #I thought this one was gonna be shorter too #also I'm officially switching over to Gerard instead of Jared even though I still don't think that's what it sounds like at all #it bugs me

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lezliefaithwade · 3 years

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A Breath of Fresh Air

The summer after my first year of theatre school, I was sleeping on the living room floor of my cousin's apartment in Toronto, trying to figure out what to do with my life. My cousin had been an actor before he became a quadriplegic in a car accident, and as I unadvisedly bemoaned my unemployment status, he said something like, "Seriously? You're complaining about your life? Don't make me burst a colostomy bag." He was right, of course. I wasn't in a wheelchair, though I did have a stepmother who had rendered me homeless because of her dislike for me. She was always saying things like, "Your hair can't be as ugly as that hat you're wearing." Or simply refusing to invite me to things like Christmas dinner. I always admired people with families. My boyfriend at the time was one of five kids who were always doing things together. Their house was always full of noise and activities. Even as a shiksa, I felt more at home there than with my stepbrothers and sisters, who never lost an opportunity to point out that I was weird. I wanted to stand up to them, but not wanting to cause my father any grief, I held my tongue and sought refuge elsewhere. It occurred to me that perhaps I was using the theatre as an opportunity to say things through characters that I couldn't find the courage to express myself.

The Toronto Star was still open on the kitchen table, and I rummage through the Want Ads, that dirty part of the newspaper near the back where complete strangers will soon become complete assholes in your life by forcing you to work menial jobs in humiliating uniforms for minimum wage.

"Find anything?" my cousin called from the bedroom, where two attendants helped wash and dress him.

"Social services are advertising for camp councilors to work with emotionally challenged kids."

"Oh yeah," He said. "That might suit you."

I'm not sure I knew what he meant but, I was beginning to think I'd outgrown my welcome. My cousin probably would have encouraged me to join the circus if the option had been available. Knowing my living room days were numbered, I thought it best to make an effort and apply.

I had no experience teaching drama—no experience working with kids and no experience going to or working at a camp. Despite all that, I was hired. It's worth noting that it's probably not a good sign if you get a job with no qualifications whatsoever.

My official position was Drama Councillor, and I prided myself that with only a year and half of theatre training behind me, I was well equipped to help others benefit from the wealth of my experience. I imagined myself, Maria Von Trapp, teaching children how to sing while they looked at me adoringly. Somehow, I conveniently blocked out the rebellious early stages she experienced and skipped straight to the good parts. Also, I might add, forgetting about the Nazis and having to climb over a mountain. Still, visions of me biking around camp with a group of happy campers behind me filled me with a sense of self-satisfaction.

As I packed my knapsack with deet and a secret stash of Twinkies, I thought of how only three weeks earlier I'd been in New York walking through Central Park and savoring Cappuccinos at outdoor cafés on Columbus. Now, here I was, ready for something different. The wilderness, I imagined, would be a welcome change—fresh air and loons instead of smog and sirens. I thought smugly about my classmates sweating behind visors at take-out windows shoveling fries into cardboard cups or wrapping sandwiches in tinfoil. Thumbs up to adventure, I told myself. The fact that I'd never once in my life enjoyed the great outdoors didn't factor into my mind. All of this changed with each accumulated minute of the 391 Kilometer drive north.

It was late afternoon when I arrived at the compound. Overcast, sullen, it was a place so secluded you'd need flares to find it. It had that distinct aura of someplace time forgot. A place left behind and neglected. In the brochure, the sun was shining, flowers filled the meadow, and you could practically hear laughter floating off the page. What I was looking at bore more of a resemblance to a situation in a Stephen King novel where camp councilors discover a pack of hungry teenage zombies have lured them to a seemingly idyllic retreat. Situated right in the heart of black fly country, I spent most of my days swatting insects so big they seem Jurassic.

During our orientation, child care workers warned us that children with mental health needs tend to run away - a lot and to keep strict attendance records and all eyes on them at all times. "These kids are resourceful and clever," they cautioned. I couldn't imagine being so determined you'd risk your life by escaping through the woods that surrounded us, but then again, I'd never been around children who weren't allowed cutlery before either

I shared my cabin with three other women with who I had absolutely nothing in common. Delia, a humorless 27-year-old cooking instructor who answered every question with a monosyllabic grunt, Jennifer, a 26-year old tennis instructor with massive blond ringlets who talked so quickly she sounded like a record on high speed, and an older aboriginal woman named Sunny who made us all dream catchers and offered advice about how to heal ourselves on days when we'd feel spent. "Remember, these kids need us," she said while purifying our cabin with sage. As I glanced around my assigned bunk, taking in the spider webs and loose floorboards, I had that sinking feeling that comes when you know you've made a terrible mistake. Before long, I was eating copious amounts of peanut butter on stale bagels amid a never-ending supply of starch. I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to feed children with challenges like anxiety, depression, hyperactivity, and eating disorders copious amounts of sugar and carbs. It certainly did nothing to help them or me.

On the first day of class, I sat everyone in a circle. "Welcome to drama class," I said with a smile. "Let's begin by sharing with everyone a little bit about ourselves. Anything at all you'd like us to know?" A hand went up.

"I'm Tracy, and I hate my stupid ass brother. He can go straight to hell."

"Okay," I said, "That's a start. Who's next?"

Another hand. "I'm Jonathan, and this place sucks so much I wish it would burn to the ground!"

"Fair enough. Anyone else?"

"I'm Jo. I'm schizophrenic. So sometimes I'm Rachel and Julia. You'll know the difference because Rachel has a British dialect, and Julia talks slang."

"O-kay." I glanced at the social workers who sat on the edge of the room and looked at me with an expression that basically said, "We can't wait to see what you do next."

"Let's write a play," I suggested. "Write anything you want. Once you're happy with the work, I'll shape it into a cohesive piece that we'll rehearse and then present at the end of the season talent showcase."

The kids liked this idea. The showcase was a big deal. It was an opportunity for them to blow off some steam and express themselves to friends and family in a creative way. My only stipulation was not to use profanity. As the weeks passed, I was impressed with how well they all threw themselves into this project—all except Eric, the oldest boy in my 12 to 15-year-olds. Eric often wandered around the rehearsal space, unfocused and sullen.

"Any ideas for your piece?" I ask, checking in to see if I could help.

"I'm thinking," he'd say and then pace.

With three weeks left in the summer, I took my well-deserved week off to decompress. My boyfriend came up from Toronto and drove me to his parent's house at Post and Bayview, where caterers were preparing the tennis courts for an outdoor party. I walked into his mother's living room, and she gasped. "What happened to you?"

I didn't blame her. I hadn't spent much time looking at a mirror the past four weeks, but one glance at the large one in their bathroom told the full story. My hair was ratty; I had scabs on my knees, bruises on my arms and legs, and I was sunburnt. I was wearing a vintage skirt and blouse that was probably more Value Village than vintage and a pair of worn, scuffed purple moccasins; in essence, I was wearing slippers on my feet.

"Please take her to the mall and at least buy her a pair of shoes," his mother said, handing me her credit card and then rushing off to make sure the stuffed alligator would float in the pool. That week I ate my way through rugelach, hamantaschen, brisket, and bagels while his family watched me with awe and disgust.

Back at camp, the smell of burning insect repellent greeted me along with the news that the sailing and tennis instructors were sacked for disorderly conduct. Never mind, I had renewed energy and a sense of purpose. There were costumes and props to make. Sound and lighting effects to create. And we needed to rehearse. It was only a tiny stage somewhere on a remote camp in Northern Ontario, but the excitement was palpable. I was excited. This would be the best talent show ever, and my kids were going to blow the socks off everyone there!!!

"Eric," I said, "How's your piece coming along?"

"I finished it," he mentioned casually

"That's great. Can I see it?"

"I want to surprise you. You're going to love it, though. I promise."

I patted myself on the back. Eric had a breakthrough. All my encouragement and patience had paid off. Perhaps I'd helped him have a developmental breakthrough.

"Can you tell me what it's about?" I asked.

"The Beatles."

"Great. Okay," and left it at that.

Talent Night arrived along with parents and family friends. The lights dimmed, the kids performed, and the audience enthusiastically applauded as each "Mighty Mite" or "Spirit of Paradise" breezed across the stage, acting out skits about fairies and monsters and assorted escapades. Finally, it was Eric's turn. Out he came, looking serious and theatrical. He cleared his throat and addressed the audience.

"This is called, The Beatles Last Recording Session. By, Me."

Three of his closest camp friends filed out and took a space on the stage. The audience was silent.

There was a dramatic pause, then the piece began.

"Fuck you, Ringo,"

"Fuck you, Paul."

"Fuck you, George."

"Well fuck you, John."

Then they bowed and left the stage.

Personally, I thought it was kind of brilliant. Needless to say, I wasn't showered with accolades about my teaching methods or the effect I had on kids. I left there having no catharsis about mental health except that giving people the opportunity to express themselves without censor is probably a lot healthier than insisting they stay quiet. I admired the honesty displayed in the kid's work. If only, I thought to myself, I could be half as brave. Wasn't that what I was spending time and money learning how to do?

A week after being home, I found myself packing, once more, for school in New York. Our term letters had arrived with instructions on where to buy character shoes, leotards, copies of The Children's Hour, and Death of a Salesman. The camp already felt like it was 391 kilometers away - soon to be 659. My father drove me to the train station with my stepmother beside him; she was there, no doubt, to ensure I boarded.

"You going to be okay?" my father asked, giving me a hug and slipping a $50 bill into my pocket.

"She'll be fine." Elsie chimed in. "You don't have to worry about her. Let's go."

But I wanted my father to worry about me. Not all the time and to the exclusion of all else, but certainly the appropriate fatherly amount.

As I settled myself on the train, I watched my stepmother pull from father from the platform to the car and thought of Eric's brilliant play. Under my breath, I whispered the immortal words of the Beatles, "Fuck you."

#stepmother #mental health #children #young people #summer camp

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princessphilly · 3 years

Text

Plain Jane Teaser

This is smut. Not super explicit smut but it’s NSFW

How much did it fucking hurt to love someone who doesn’t love you back? It hurts so much but it’s better to give up than to keep running after them.

But still, this is my story. So I thought I was in love with someone who didn’t really notice me. Like, no matter what I did, they always looked for someone else. I was totally invisible to them even though I was right there. I mean, he saw me but at the same time, he didn’t see me. I was just the friend of his teammate, the girl who was his teammate’s plus one whenever he was single. I was always at events for the team but I was like the fucking wallpaper to him.

It’s not like I just stood there, hoping, praying, and wishing he would look at me. I flirted with him and I know I’m attractive. I’m not blonde bombshell hot but when I go out and party, I always have at least two or three guys trying to take me home. So, it fucking sucks that I can’t get him to fucking like me.

It’s been over a fucking year and I’m getting tired of being hung up over him. So, what, he has amazing blue eyes and is fucking awesome with kids? I’m over this shit.

My friends thought it was because maybe my friend told him I was off limits. Others thought he just wasn’t into me.

It doesn’t matter because I’m moving anyway. I just aced an interview and I just got my dream job. I’m supposed to be moving to NYC for work in a month.

So… I’m laying here with a heavy arm around my stomach, a hand literally holding one of my tits and wondering, how the hell I ended up in bed with the one guy who I swore I would never fuck.

I look down and I see the scruff burn and I try to slide from under the arm but I swear, he holds me harder. Part of me wants to die; the other part feels what is poking my ass and wants to take another ride.

I, the girl who spent the past two seasons trying to get noticed by Duncan Keith, manages to get fucked by Captain Serious. Yes, him, Jonathan Toews.

I close my eyes as I refuse to give in to the urge to scream. The one guy who always had to make a comment, the one who poked fun at my crush on Duncs and told me it would never happen, of course I fuck him.

I rub my thighs together; I can feel a seep of wetness as I think about what I did earlier this night. I also give up trying to move because I can’t move over 200 pounds of rock-solid man on my own.

I’m the biggest fuck up on earth.

Jamila mentally wrote that journal entry as she tried to go back to sleep. It was a little after four AM, there was really nowhere for her to go. She was already going to have to take a walk of shame anyway, no point in trying to leave. The arm around her waist tightened and a groggy voice muttered, “How the fuck are you awake?”

Jamila stiffened before whispering, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

The arm was still around her waist but the fingers were now tracing her side. Jamila didn’t even try to suppress the shiver, it felt so good.

“I can still fucking taste you, sweetheart.”

The fingers moved higher to where they started to caress her breast, teasing her nipple.

“Oh fuck,” Jamila half-moaned. Last night had been too good and even though she was sure she’d regret it in the morning, she was totally all in for it now. Moving his hand from her side, she placed his palm over her pussy. He chuckled, his deep voice losing the sleep from it.

Spreading her legs open, Jamila asked, “Touch me, please.”

“I like when you ask politely,” Jon rumbled as his fingers slid through her folds. Jamila whimpered; she was already wet and damn it, as he kissed her neck, she wanted him again.

#plain jane fic #jonathan toews #nhl smut #fic teaser #yes it's another series

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takaraphoenix · 4 years

Note

Hi! May I ask why you dislike the Shadowhunters finale?

You may ask, I am going to try and answer, but you’re asking me to unearth long-buried memories there. So let’s see how much I can still piece together; the big things for sure, the little things I may have forgotten.

And because this is 4k long, a quick TL;DR/table of content:

the plot and resolution were messy

the show forgot that Clary is its protagonist

Jace Herondale deserved better too

Everything (else) wrong with the flashforward (Maia also deserved better)

Magnus and Alec’s love ended racism and homophobia

1. The Plot and Resolution Were Messy

I still think that the whole Glorious/Heavenly Fire plot was... a mess. The Heavenly Fire was born from the Soul Sword, but somehow they used ScienceTM to reate an antidote for being a Downworlder with it and then when the whole thing explodes, it gets embedded within Isabelle, but instead of killing Isabelle with its intense powers, it grands her the ability to explode Lilith and literally destroy all of hell. What the fuck was that. Nothing about that was... satisfying, or felt like it was really set up anywhere. I mean, I sure didn’t see it coming that Isabelle is the war-ending hero in this tale. That role is usually reserved to the protagonist.

But instead of ending the war or destroying Edom because she has super angelic blood, Clary’s role was to... hug her brother to death with angel-wings she created. What was even happening in that scene. To this day, I don’t understand what was going on there. I mean, she literally hugged him to death. How weird was that. And how unnecessary.

Honestly, I... I didn’t want Clary to be the one to kill Jonathan? He’s her brother. She already killed her father. Sure, they’re The Villains, but... that shit still gets to you, especially since she spent so long hoping against hope that there’s good in Jonathan? To then make her the one killing him.

I think Jace should have killed Jonathan for good, not Clary. Because she doesn’t deserve that burden of having killed her brother, even after all the bad shit he’s done.

And the method of killing was just dumb. I mean, I can not stretch it enough just how dumb it was that she hugged him to death. Not just because it’s as stupid as it sounds, but also because she literally got a warning from the Angel.

The Angel came to her (wow, now that all the action is done, they decide to communicate, awesome...) and warned her that if she keeps creating runes, she will be punished.

There was no need to create a new rune for this. She didn’t have to. Just stab him. You like stabbing things, girl. Stab him to death, or - as I’d have preferred - leave the stabbing him to someone else. Heck, I’d have preferred if Isabelle killed Jonathan via hug because left-over Heavenly Fire embedded in her, that’d have made more sense. But... there was no need to create a new, weirdly specific rune that gave her wings so that if she hugged him, they’d... I have no idea... killed him somehow with their pure godly goodness or whatever.

(Seriously, Isabelle’s Heavenly Fire powers would have made more sense, if we’re operating under the pretense that regular stabbing wouldn’t have been enough at this point, which I am not entirely buying because Alec exploded a higher demon by shooting him in the face.)

Before we get to the part about the Angel’s threat, I’d like to point out the finale’s biggest flaw.

2. The Show Forgot That Clary is Its Protagonist

Clary Fray is the protagonist of this story. The main main character. This was her story, above all else. All others are only secondary characters to her. I would argue that in the hierarchy of characters, Jace also stands above the others (but still second to Clary), because he is just as personally interwoven with all of this as Valentine’s son and the other half of the Jonathan experiment.

But the show temporarily forgot that. Part of that is the above mentioned wish from me that Clary should have destroyed Edom (if we have to destroy hell, which I do think was unnecessarily stupid and should have just been sealed off). I mean, that was the big show-down.

I do think that, to pay off the way the story was set out, Clary should have been the one to get the big finish of destroying Edom and Jace should have gotten the revenge and satisfaction of killing Jonathan, in a last ultimate showdown of who’s the better JC.

I already reasoned why I didn’t particularly like seeing Clary kill Jonathan and why I thought the method of killing him was stupid, but one more thing comes into play there.

By hilling Jon the way she did, she provoked the Angel into doing as he threatened. She is your protagonist and you’re punishing her for saving the world.

I mean seriously, Clary just helped save the world and she just used her powers to kill off a really big enemy. And instead of rewarding her for her services - since she did this shit for the Angels - she gets punished for it.

We spent this three years journey (for us; three months for her. I really can’t stress enough how bad the condensed timeline is, all around) following Clary.

She already suffered so much. But she kept powering through it and she was really finding her place there. She was finally training, she got her Angelic rune to accept her into this society, she was making friends, she was making plans. That little conversation between her and Isabelle about becoming parabatai? That was awesome. Like, something I hadn’t realized I needed until they said it. That was great, really.

And then they just took her memories away. They took their protagonist and just... left her stranded on the streets with no memories at all about the past three months of her life.

And then we timeskip - and I’ll get into the non-Clary related timeskip issues after the Clary-section of this post, so let’s focus on hers for now.

Luke is off in Brazil fucking Maryse, instead of being in New York with his daughter. This show’s always done a half-assed job with that relationship. They often name-dropped a “dad” or “daughter” there, but only when it served a plot-purpose of sorts; they rarely gave us some genuine bonding moments between them and I think that was a fault throughout the show, but this ending was just completely fucking that dynamic over.

Luke was cured from being a werewolf. And instead of choosing the mundie life that he’s pretended to lead for the past 18 years, he decides to not just go back to the Clave, who mistreated him and to whom he technically should still be a wanted terrorist for having been a Circle member (you know, the thing Maryse got deruned for). And, ship aside, the fact that Luke chose to go with his new girlfriend somewhere far off instead of staying with his daughter? Still feels like character assassination for me, quite frankly.

What, she’s not allowed to remember the Shadow World. Great that Luke is no longer a werewolf and has to associate with the pack anymore! Great timing that he’s now a Shadowhunter, something you can apparently really easily pretend not to be if you look at Jocelyn. Or, hey, actually he should have been deruned for his past crimes, which would be even more convenient because then he would get to actually live a mundie life, with his daughter.

I mean, seriously, how did that past year that is so conveniently skipped, even go? She was out in the streets, alone. How much did she even remember? Her name? The things prior to the last three months? How was anything explained to her, who did the explaining? What does she think happened to her mom, to Luke, to Simon? Because they were a part of her life before all of this.

I think the memory-wipe in itself does Clary a disservice because it erases her entire journey, but the very least they could have done if memory-wiping her would have been to give her a happy ending. To show her living a good mundie life with Luke.

But the memory-wipe wasn’t about Clary. That’s where the “the show forgot she’s the protagonist” comes into play again. Not only did they punish their protagonist for doing the protagonist-y thing of saving the day; they... they essentially fridged her.

I don’t know a non-dead term for fridging, but for all intends and purposes, she was fridged. She lost her memories, not as a part of her own plot, she lost them for Jace’s Man Pain.

That was the framing device the show chose.

They could have made Clary’s memory-loss about Clary; shown us how she adjusted to the new life, or even as mentioned before given her a happy ending there, in the mundie world. They could have shown us her suffering about this.

Instead, it’s framed around Jace. Jace, sparring with Simon, being called out for still pining after Clary. A whole-ass year and Jace is still hung up on Clary, still regularly checking in on Clary, still stalking her, still sad, still suffering. He pines from afar as he watches Clary’s art show. And when she suddenly remembers his name, it is framed as a happy moment for him.

Her suffering served a man.

They really took their female protagonist and decided, in the finale, to make her suffer, for the sake of her male love interest. That would be absolutely gross if she was just the love interest of the male protagonist, but she is the protagonist and they turned her into a plot-device.

And it didn’t even stick. I assume the memory-wipe was an idea hatched prior to the show being cancelled. She is memory-wiped and we go into hiatus and next season, we have Jace and the others chase after her and bring back her memories. Would still be shit and do Clary a disservice, but at least it’d have like... a purpose.

There was no purpose to the memory-wipe as it happened. It lasted literally 2 minutes screen-time before Jace’s sad puppy-dog eyes triggered Clary’s memories again and look, her brain didn’t melt! She got to remember him.

So what was even the point of that memory-wipe...? Clary wasted a whole year of her life in total isolation, thinking everyone she loved was dead, when in reality her memories could have safely been brought back at any time.

The Angel punishing the protagonist for doing protagonist-y things would have already been a dick-move, but this? This was the Angel playing a cruel prank on Clary, really. And what was the point of that...? Nothing, absolutely nothing.

Nothing is gained from the memory-wipe. The finale would have been improved by simply not including the memory-wipe. Literally just, have her have a good time at the party, be happy. And include her in the flashforward as being parabatai with Isabelle and being happy. The pay-off the protagonist of your show would have deserved at the end of said show.

3. Jace Herondale Deserved Better Too

As I mentioned in Clary’s section, Clary being essentially be fridged like that would have been a shit move even if she was just the love-interest to the actual protagonist. But Jace isn’t the protagonist. He’s one of the main characters and I’d argue the second most important one but that stands to debate I suppose because I have favorite-character-bias there. It can definitely not be argued that he is not the primary protagonist, because that’s Clary.

But Clary had to suffer for his man pain.

And honestly, my AO3 track-record shows how much I love seeing Jace suffer, but even I think this was absolutely useless and unnecessary.

In the past three months of Jace’s life, he:

learned his father didn’t die but was a (still alive) wanted terrorist

spent weeks thinking the girl he had a crush on was his sister

was abducted by his father and tortured for five days straight

thought his mother (Jocelyn) wanted to kill him

nearly got mauled by Maia “kill first, ask questions later” Roberts

got thrown into prison after being freed

where he was then tortured by his boss

tried to commit suicide through the Soul Sword in the City of Bones (1)

thought his mother (Jocelyn) wanted to kill him

was harrassed in his own home to the point of willingly moving out

thought his mother (Jocelyn) was dead and mourned her

was abandoned by 3/5th of his adopted family (but they said sorry afterward so people forgive them *snorts*)

tried to commit suicide through the Soul Sword thinking he could destroy it (2)

tried to commit suicide through letting Simon drink him dry (3)

learned his father wasn’t his biological father but a mad scientist who killed Jace’s parents and cut him out of his mother’s womb

was literally killed by his own father. I mean he died. He actually died

was possessed by Lilith for weeks and in that time

killed multiple mundies without any control over his body

repeatedly killed the people he loved inside his mind-prison

was sexually assaulted by Lilith

actually killed his own grandmother and only living relative due to toe possession

learned that there’s mental illness running in his family and that his mom actually committed suicide

They crammed all that trauma into three months and at no point did they actually allow Jace to process any of that. Nope, instead of letting him process, or just stopping to beat him down, they decided to make him suffer some more at the end.

The ending he deserved would have been a fucking therapy session, not “my girlfriend doesn’t remember me so I’ll be sad and pine for a year :(”.

Made even worse by the decision to move Alec onto another continent. I appreciate that little bonding moment between Jace and Simon, I really do, but the fact that his parabatai was just... off living his best life, somewhere else, while Jace was suffering like this? That didn’t sit right with me at all and really goes against what that parabatai bond is supposed to mean.

My boy tried to commit suicide three times and actually died once in those three months. But instead of a rewarding ending that somehow... gives them all something good to end on, they took Clary away from him for a whole year - a vital year, the year after the war, the time he should have spent on healing himself and dealing with his trauma. Reducing his character to sad, heart-broken boyfriend instead of finally letting him heal.

And for what? Clary immediately regained her memories when she saw him; all of this additional suffering served no purpose at all aside from “they both suffered for a year lol”. Stupid and unnecessary and especially after the excessive torture they put Jace through, he really deserved better than to have his “one year later” moment be “uh actually you totally wasted that year pining from afar, coulda just talked to her at any moment lol”.

4. Everything (Else) Wrong With the Flashforward

This is going to recap a lot of the things peppered into the other points, but it needs to be put into one sub-point too, because the sum of things in this flashforward is just bullshit.

The memory-wipe that is magically undone by Jace’s sad puppy-dog eyes and thus served absolutely no purpose.

Showing the “a year later” but not how Clary got there; what her journey to that point in life even was.

Luke happily joining the Clave again after everything and deliberately abandoning Clary to frolick at the beaches in Brazil.

Bat and Maia. Those are the only new things I have to add here, because... wow. Bat had a total screentime - I mean, total of this entire show - of under 10 minutes. I’d wager more close to 5, really. There was no build-up here, because the show was so busy side-lining Maia after they promoted Alisha to main cast - which in itself was just ridiculous; you promote her and instead of giving her character more to do and a prominent storyline, you just feature the return of her ex and then basically write her off the show for a while. She just... up and left for multiple months after becoming the Alpha, leaving the pack kind of... leaderless. And then she’s just back again and now she is with Bat, which didn’t even feel much like a deserved happy ending considering they never really established their dynamic - or Bat’s character - much.

Quite honestly, with the way this show had messed around with romance, I think the show should have gone non-canon and kept Simon and Maia together through to the end, because while season 1 set Simon and Isabelle up really well, season 2 kinda forgot about that again and 3B had to rush that back in again for the sake of endgame.

Maia’s final scene wasn’t a pay-off, because the show forgot to give her the set-up for it. They never showed her become the Alpha, they never showed her be the Alpha, so seeing her there in charge didn’t feel like much. They never showed her and Bat develop much more than an acquantanceship, much less fall in love, so her being with him in the end felt more like a consolation prize.

And, in theory, you could argue that, well, she’s not the protagonist so you can’t flesh all that really out. But then the show even put more focus onto their little non-canon Luke/Maryse romance than they did on the Bat/Maia canon romance. She deserved to have a proper build-up to make her ending be a worthy pay-off

Then there’s Alec and Magnus, but they get sub-point 5 so we’ll get back to them later.

5. Magnus and Alec’s Love Ended Racism and Homophobia

To drive home how much their ending bothered me, I have to go back some.

Shadowhunters are inherently homophobic and racist; that is what this show told us rather early on already. They’re homophobic and they’re very racist against Downworlders.

The show claimed that and they clumsily tried to show that, at times, but... they put zero effort into doing something to change that and still want to reap the glory for making them change their ways. And it’s... pathetic, bad writing and genuinely offensive to anyone who’s ever actually dealt with someone homophobic and/or racist before.

I’m a white lesbian, so I’ll not pretend that it’s up to me to speak to the way the show handled the racism subplot; many fans, who are people of color themselves and can speak to this much better than I ever could, have addressed that in more detail in the past.

But it’d be wrong not to mention it here too, because... they really dropped the ball on this plotline centered around a huge real world issue. They set the Shadowhunters up as racists but here we are, only one year later and not only did they allow a Downworlder to live in their super holy city (which they were forbidden from entering only a year ago; they only got to live in the wild, also explicitely stated to be rogue and wild werewolves, more beast than man), they appointed Magnus the High Warlock. Not only did they “end racism” within a year, they also got Magnus a high-ranking political position. Really?

I’ll focus more on the homophobia here, because I can speak more to that. And I do think that the two issues run relatively parallel in how they were handled. (Because they were both not handled.)

Alec’s still deep in the closet when we start the show. Then he agrees to a political marriage to a Good WomanTM, just to publicly come out, in front of his bosses and everyone he works with. Which, I still think was horribly handled, but I digress.

He was in the closet for a reason. Because of the Shadowhunters’ inherent homophobia. Which the show then just... kind of... forgot.

Alec is never shown to face homophobia. Alec is never shown to actually speak up and do something to help other gays.

But the show still thinks to deserve a pat on the back, and gives it to itself via Andrew Underhill praising Alec for all he has done for gay people. By... what, exactly? Kissing Magnus in public?

Same for Aline, who is so deep in the closet when we first meet her, she can’t even dare say it in anything but a whisper even while being with the only person she ever confided in about her sexuality, but a month later, during Magnus and Alec’s wedding, she can dance and laugh and kiss her girlfriend in public.

The show really pretends that The Power Of LoveTM ended homophobia, because, I don’t know, the Clave looked at Alec and Magnus and shipped it so they were now okay with all gays I guess??

That’s bullshit. You didn’t have to set up this society as inherently homophobic; if you’d just done that, the way it progressed would have been fine. But if you make them inherently homophobic, you don’t get to do... nothing.

Alec is an openly gay man. He’d have gotten shit from his coworkers. He certainly wouldn’t have gotten all of those promotions in such a short time!

No one speaks up against him being appointed head of the Institute - even though someone really should have, not even just because he’s gay but also because he’s a Lightwood and we started this whole fucking mess of playing musical chairs with the position of head because the Clave wanted to take it away from the Lightwoods! But also because he’s gay. And dating a Downworlder, just to remind you of the inherent racism again.

He’s offered the position of consul within a month of having been head - a position he only got through nepotism to begin with. Consul. That... That’s a high-ranking political position.

And in the flashfoward, only one year after, he is... he is the Inquistor.

They really pretend that this gay man came out as gay, ended homophobia and racism with the power of love and then, within a year’s time climbed onto the highest possible political positon.

Just, imagine that in the real world. During the height of “don’t ask, don’t tell” and when interracial relationships are far from socially accepted, this guy just comes out as gay, never does any activism aside from actively being gay, gets married to this man of color (and it’s very peculiar that the majority of Downworlders also make up the majority of characters of color) and then the guy becomes president of the United States within a year.

The narrative the show chose belittles the actual struggle oppressed minorities have been fighting for decades and centuries, because it claims the pay-off of having ended the oppression, without ever actually showing the struggle and fight. It makes it look like, well, if the right queer interracial couple kissed in public, then people would see how silly their racism and homophobia were and just stop being racist and homophobic.

The show did not earn that ending. The show didn’t earn the pat on the back from Underhill to Alec, the show didn’t earn that out and proud wedding inside the Institute, the show didn’t earn that Underhill/Lorenzo and Aline/Helen open, happy, uncaring dancing during said wedding, the show didn’t earn Inquisitor Alec and the show didn’t earn High Warlock of Alicante Magnus.

Because the show didn’t put in the work to earn that.

#Shadowhunters #Shadowhunters Critical #Anonymous

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mrs-evadne-cake · 4 years

Note

Hey!! I love your fic. I was just wondering - and yes, i know it's unrealistic - if in an ideal, paradise world Stranger Things decided to go the stoncy route, how would you want them do do it? If you were in the writers' room how would you develop it in a convincing way that fits with the rest of the show? (I'm genuinely curious since you wrote them so well in IASL)

First, thank you so much!

I mean, first and foremost I always want it to be a little bit of a mess since we’re dealing with a time and place where the word "polyamory" was not in circulation and there was no real poly community or overall awareness of polyamory as a way to be. They might be aware of free love in the ‘60s and the concept of swingers but mostly as far as they’re concerned they’re out here in ‘86 Indiana inventing the concept of a triad and it’s hard enough learning normal relationship skills as a teenager without adding unlearning socialized ideas about exclusivity and jealousy on top of that.

So let these idiots fuck it up a bunch, is what I’m saying. Bring on the return of Nancy ‘Say the Meanest Possible Thing to My Boyfriend(s)’ Wheeler.

How would I make it fit the show...man this would be easier if these three had shared a scene together for more than two minutes since S1. This is probably going to get long so more after the cut!

The show loves to trot out ‘shared trauma’ so in this perfect world they actually remember that it applies to Steve, too. So he’s dating around town but it’s not working out with anyone since it gets really, really awkward trying to explain to the girls he sleeps with why he shouts the name of an ice-cream shop during his nightmares without mentioning Russian spies ‘cause yeah, retail is hell but it’s a little excessive.

With Jonathan gone Nancy starts hanging around with Steve more often because she too remembers that he exists and went through all the same shit with them and that he ramming-speeded a Cadillac Eldorado into Billy Hargrove’s face to save her life, and her entire over-14 support system is gone. Steve thinks its a little unfair (and Robin thinks its a lot unfair) but he still cares about her so he goes along with it and Nancy is sort of surprised by how different he is from S1/Early S2 Steve.

Robin is like ‘Oh so you can lie on truth serum ‘cause you’re definitely still in love with her.’ which Steve vehemently denies. He’s just a good friend, buddy, pal. No romantic feelings at all.

Jonathan is in Arizona or Illinois or friggin’ Derry, Maine knowing Joyce’s luck obviously very much missing Nancy. They talk on the phone and Nancy mentions that she’s been hanging out with Steve- now this could go either way the ‘Jonathan Byers is An Angel’ route where he’s okay with it right off the bat or the ‘Jonathan Byers remembers how he and Nancy got together the first time and tries to be okay with it because he is above petty normal people things like still being jealous of the ex-high school jock but can’t let it go and the two of them get into a fight. (where Nancy probably says the meanest possible thing to her boyfriend’ route. Obviously I choose the second one.

We get a scene of Jonathan getting worked up talking about it to Will who is like :/ bro, you are mentioning Steve A LOT in this conversation, aren’t you pissed at Nancy? And Jonathan is taken aback because yeah, he is sort of obsessing about Steve.

Nancy also mentions the fight to Steve because Nancy is bad at this whole ‘don’t put your ex in awkward situations regarding your current relationship’ thing. Steve feels bad.

But before it gets resolved plot stuff kicks off and Joyce and Murray are off to ...sigh...fight evil Russians and free Hopper from a Soviet gulag. Jonathan and Will and El end up back in town however they do and we all wonder why they moved in the first place.

Jonathan, Nancy and Steve end up teamed up FINALLY (In this world Robin ends up on Team El, Max, and Kali because fuck everyone who hates her, Kali is here too and Max deserves her best friend, a big sister, and a tiny super-powered vigilante punk-rock aunt after what they did to her last season. They all kick Brenner’s ass like the last scene in Death Proof, the end) And at some point the boys end up separated from Nancy and try to make awkward conversation and Steve tries to assure him that he’s sorry and he would never get between him and Nancy and once he gets started apologizing he just sort of keeps going- for all of High school, and if he ever ate his bagels in a really weird way, and for the fight and blaming him and Joyce for Will and calling him queer and the two have a real adult conversation where they bury the hatchet and move past high school.

And because I love the fanfic classics, that’s when a monster tries to eat them and Nancy saves them (bonus points if she uses the bat) and afterward they’re just like, ‘Fuck this town, why do we do this EVERY YEAR’ “I MOVED.’but they obviously realize that they make a really good team and actually enjoy each other’s company. The rest of their plot line has them growing increasingly comfortable with each other as they investigate whatever Nancy has dragged them along to investigate. Jonathan says he was wrong to be jealous and Nancy says of course he was because she’s always right because this is still Nancy motherfucking Wheeler and she will never not be that bitch.

Monster stuff. The teams all come together. Hopper is back and the evil Russians defeated, yay. Robin is glad Steve is not dead and vice versa and Steve is like where did you pick up the hot punk-rock chick and did you get her number? And Robin is like long story and yes, why is Jonathan Byers looking at you with heart eyes? Which is information that overloads Steve’s brain and he’s almost glad when the series climax where they all fight a giant monster or a hole in the universe happens right then.

No one dies, or fake dies, or maybe dies or maybe ends up in a Soviet gulag again.

Post- Climax wrap up where we actually see what everyone is doing that night directly after saving the world instead of flashing forward to months later and missing loads and loads of important character moments. After we’ go through everyone else Your Love By The Outfield starts playing because it’s 1986 now and I can FINALLY use it since it was released in ‘85. Steve goes home to (everyone say it with me) an empty house and he seems to debate with himself a little before calling Robin with a question. Nancy and Jonathan are together wherever the Byers’ and Hop are staying when the doorbell rings and it’s Steve who obviously immediately regrets this decision the minute they answer but they bring him inside and the music becomes diegetic as Jonathan puts on the record and closes the bedroom door behind them.

So apparently even in my perfect world where I’m in charge it sort of ends up mostly ramping up to stoncy than pure stoncy over one season. I’m pretty firmly of the opinion that the three of them just messing around in increasingly inclusive ways comes way before any actual poly negotiation or reflection or discussion on their respective sexuality and you can’t show that on PG-13 Netflix so we’re just crashing to black and credits.

Thanks for the ask anon- sorry to make you wait, I knew this was going to be a monster of a post. And the fact that I just spent like, a hour and a half writing this has made me realize I might be in the mood to *actually* write again, so thanks!

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lightsupinthenorth · 4 years

Text

Read me like an open book part 1/2

Hey! :) Here is the first part of a two-part (at least I think ah ah) Harringrove fanfiction. It’s set a few years after the events of the third season (which Billy survived, obviously ^^). It starts on Steve’s birthday just because it’s my birthday today :p

I hope you’ll enjoy ;)

Read on AO3

“It’s presents time, bitches!” Robin said, getting up from the floor, where Steve was still sprawled with Billy half-laying on top of him.

They might have overdone it a little on the weed. Steve didn’t really care, though. He was relaxed and happy. So far, his twenty-first birthday had been the best birthday ever. Robin and Billy had organized a surprise gathering in their shared flat, inviting the kids, Nancy and Jonathan, as well as Joyce and Hopper. After everyone had left earlier in the evening, Robin had gone to her room and had come back with a bag of weed bought by Billy and her for the occasion, and they had gotten positively baked.

Billy and Robin had insisted to give him his present when it was just the three of them instead of doing it at the same time as the others. When Steve had seen the weed, he had understood why. So, he was confused when Robin mentioned presents.

“What presents?”

“Your birthday presents, dingus. I know you’re high right now, but I didn’t think you were high enough to forget your own birthday.” Robin cackled.

“Hey, I haven’t forgotten. I just kinda thought… wasn’t the weed the present?”

“Pfff, no.” Billy replied. “What kind of present would that be? As if we didn’t already smoke weed on the regular.”

He made them sound like potheads. They didn’t smoke that often… Then again, it did happen more frequently than their respective birthdays.

“Yo, Buckley, can you go to my room and fetch my present for Steve too, now that you’re at it. It’s in the drawer of my bedside table.” Billy yelled, a lot louder than was necessary considering Robin was just in the next room.

Steve whined. Billy’s voice was reverberating in his head.

“Sure, you lazy fuck.” She yelled back, just as loud.

They were so noisy!

“Open mine first!” Robin said as she sat down on the floor again, extending a rectangular package.

Steve had to detangle himself from Billy, ignoring his mumbled complaints, before he tore into the brightly colored wrapping paper. He uncovered a thick book with a beautiful cover representing a sky full of stars. It was titled Long live the King.

“I know you’ve taken to reading, these days, and this novel is amazing.” Robin assured.

“It’s really not that good.” Billy grumbled, with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, you read it too?” Steve asked.

“Uh… yeah, I did.”

Billy was staring at Robin when he said it. And he was frowning.

“Don’t listen to him, Steve, he’s being a buzzkill. You’re going to love it.”

“I’m sure I will. Thanks Rob.” Steve hugged her.

He hoped Billy would still agree to help him with the book, even if he didn’t like it much. Ever since he knew Steve had trouble with written words, Billy would read to him all the time. It had become their thing. Steve loved his voice. Well, Steve loved everything about him, but that was off topic.

“Now, here’s Hargrove gift.”

Robin basically dropped the gift in Steve’s lap. The wrapping paper had multi-colored stars on it. Steve unraveled it carefully and found a set of pencils and a beautiful sketchbook. Billy and Robin’s gifts kind of coordinated aesthetically speaking, which was nice. Indeed, on the cover of the notebook was a drawing of the night sky, with the sea represented underneath. “My sea of stars”, was written on the front.

Steve used to doodle distractingly during class. He’d been doing it since primary school. After he had graduated, his doodling habit had spread to his daily life. He would draw lines absentmindedly while he was on the phone or trace random shapes on discarded pieces of paper when he was watching TV but was too fidgety to focus. He hadn’t been seriously committed to drawing, though. He had only started making it into a real hobby after Starcourt. Billy had been the one to suggest it, in fact. After he’d literally come back to life, Steve and he had become good friends, and Billy had noticed his little habit and had bought him a sketch pad. Drawing helped Steve a lot. Gave him something to do when he was feeling restless, which was the case more often than not after the whole ‘Upside-Down and co’ experience.

Steve was frustrated by his lack of technique, at first, and had almost given up on several occasions. But Billy had always been there to cheer him up and keep him going. He was certain Billy hadn’t even realized his compliments and encouragements had prevented Steve from calling it quits at least a dozen times. They spent hours together in their living room, on the couch, Steve drawing while Billy wrote in his huge notebook, with his feet on Steve’s lap. Steve was eager to spend many more hours that exact same way, drawing on the new sketchbook Billy had offered him.

“It’s… it’s really nice, Billy. I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Pretty boy.”

They hugged, and Billy didn’t let him go, half-climbing on him again as they laid back down.

“Ugh, guys, seriously, get a room.” Robin complained, which led to Steve blushing and Billy flipping her the bird.

Steve would have attributed Billy’s behavior to the weed, but they had gotten more and more tactile since the beginning of their friendship about two years prior, so the weed didn’t have much to do with it. Except that maybe Billy would have waited for Robin to go to bed before attaching himself to Steve like a koala, if he hadn’t been high.

Either way, Steve was far from complaining: the more Billy touched him, the better.

Before he went to bed that night, Steve took his secret sketchpad – the one in which he drew his best friend page after page (like an obsessed creep) – from under his mattress, and drew the version of Billy he had seen earlier: high Billy, with his lax body and hazy eyes.

A few minutes after putting his paper shrine back in its usual hiding spot, Steve fell asleep with a smile on his face, and the smell of Billy’s cologne on his own skin. He hoped all his birthdays to come would be similar to this one.

When Steve got up the next morning, Billy and Robin were eating breakfast in the kitchen.

He heard Billy say:

“Stop it, Robin. I can’t tell him, I just can’t.”

It made no sense to him, since he had missed the beginning of the conversation, but his interest was picked.

“You can’t tell who, what?” He asked as he went to the cupboard to get his favorite cereals. No way he would eat oatmeal like Robin and Billy. What a depressing way to start the day.

“I, uh…” Billy started. Robin interrupted him, though:

“He can’t tell his coworker that his new haircut looks stupid.”

“Yeah… ‘Cause it would be mean, you know.” Billy added, before putting a huge spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth.

“Uh… well, it’s true. It wouldn’t be a very nice thing to say, Rob.” Steve agreed.

He put his box of cereals on the table and sat down next to Robin, in front of Billy, who was looking intently at his bowl.

“Why do you think Billy should tell the poor guy his hair looks weird?”

If anyone said that to Steve, he’d be devastated. That was for sure.

“So he can let his hair grow back and have it cut in a more flattering way.” Robin explained. “It would be doing him a favor, in my opinion.”

Steve hummed. “Makes sense”, he said. He was more focused on his fruit loops, though. It wasn’t like he cared about the guy anyway. He hadn’t even met him.

Robin hadn’t either, so Steve didn’t know why she was so pressed on Billy giving him hair advice. Whatever floats her boat, he thought.

His roommates were weird, sometimes. Nothing could be done about it.

The next weekend, Steve and Billy were both off from their respective work, and Steve really wanted to start reading the book Robin had gotten him for his birthday.

Billy was occupied with a novel of his own next to him, and Steve didn’t want to be a burden, so he started reading on his own. After a few pages, he was already hooked, but he got tired quickly, as he always did. Frustrated, he fidgeted a bit on the couch and brought the book closer to his face, as if it would help the words stop swimming in front of his eyes.

Billy sighed.

“What’s up, Pretty boy?” He asked, only then looking up from his own reading.

“I just… would it be okay… would you read to me? Please.”

Billy sighed again, a bit louder. Steve’s face fell. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but Steve always looked forward to Billy reading out loud to him.

“Sorry… I know you don’t like this book… I’ll ask Robin to read it to me when she gets home.”

“No! I… I’ll do it, I’ll read for you. I really don’t mind.” Billy exclaimed.

Steve was agreeably surprised by the amount of enthusiasm Billy displayed and he smiled at him when he handed him the book, letting their hands brush.

“Thank you!”

Steve kissed Billy’s cheek and laid his head on his shoulder.

“Don’t mention it, Pretty boy.”

“Sure, I’ll mention it. It means a lot, you know.”

Billy cleared his throat. “Right… if you say so.”

Steve could feel the heat of Billy’s blush.

He always downplayed the nice things he did, but Steve wouldn’t have it. He would keep showing Billy he was grateful for every little (and not so little) attention. Declaring his undying love to him would be a very effective way to make Billy realize how much Steve really appreciated him, but that would also do a lot more harm than good. Steve had to focus on the big picture, here.

Billy began to read where Steve had stopped, and if Steve didn’t already know Billy disliked the book, he wouldn’t have been able to tell at all. He put his heart into it as he always did. Not only that, but Steve felt like Billy’s voice held even more emotion than it usually did.

Steve fell into a sort of trance. The story was told in first person, from the point of view of a magician in a fantasy land, and Steve imagined himself as the narrator. In his mind, he could see everything Billy was describing: the village, the fields, the magnificent castle surrounded by a dark forest in which creatures lurked, the King who lived in the castle and whom the enchanter was secretly in love with.

Hours passed before Billy stopped reading. Still, Steve had to refrain himself from begging for one more chapter. He couldn’t be greedy; he didn’t want Billy to tire of him.

“Here you go, Stevie.”

“That was great. You’re the best.”

“It’s just reading, Pretty boy. I didn’t hang the moon.” Billy mumbled.

Steve nearly said “You might as well have”, but said: “It’s far better than ‘just reading’”, instead. That was a close call.

They went to the kitchen to make dinner, and Robin came home from work right before the oven beeped.

Steve ate his meal slowly, without really tasting it, and he didn’t say much, letting Robin and Billy do most of the talking. He was still somewhere far away, in a fantasy land ruled by a beautiful king. And, if the king was a carbon copy of Billy, it was nobody’s business but Steve’s.

On Thursday, Billy went to Indianapolis, and Steve went with him. Apparently, Billy had been asked by his boss to go check and fix a few collection cars over there, and Billy had invited Steve to come with him. Said it would be fun. They’d spend the morning together and Billy would go to his work appointment after lunch.

“Not that I’m not glad to have the opportunity of going on a fun little trip or anything, but couldn’t that guy find a garage in Indianapolis to take care of his cars? There must be more than a few.” Steve asked Billy, who had just started the car.

“That’s because I’m the best in fucking Indiana, baby.” He said with a cocky grin.

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back his fond smile.

“Right. Forget I asked.”

“To answer more seriously, I don’t really know. But who gives a fuck? The guy paid extra… I mean like, a big wad of cash. So, fine by me.”

Billy shrugged.

Steve found it quite weird, but it was fine by him too. It wasn’t any of his business, anyway: he was just tagging along.

He turned the radio on, and then Billy and he bickered for ages about what station to choose. That was somewhat of a tradition every time they were in a car together.

“I’m driving, so I choose. It’s driver’s privilege, Pretty boy. Suck it up.”

“But that’s not fair!” Steve whined. “You insisted to drive, it’s not like I had a choice.”

“Too bad. You lose anyway.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, making Billy laugh. The cold bastard.

When they arrived in Indianapolis, Billy parked, and they chose a direction at random to go wander. Steve got caught up in some window-shopping, stopping abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at the newest Adidas sneakers behind the glass.

Steve used to be given everything he wanted. Well, everything he wanted that could be bought with money. Now that he didn’t speak to his parents anymore and was financially independent, however, he couldn’t afford many unnecessary expenses. These shoes sadly fell into the “unnecessary” category.

Billy had not immediately noticed Steve had stopped walking, so he had to go back on his tracks a little.

“Hey, Stevie, give a guy a warning, would you? I turned to talk to you and you were not there anymore.”

“Sorry, sorry. I was just… I wanted to take a look at these.” Steve pointed at the shoes. “I don’t know why I did, anyway… it’s not like I’m gonna buy them.”

“Right… it’s fine. Let’s go get lunch, Pretty boy.” Billy said, steering him away from the shop, but not without giving the shoes a good look himself.

They ate burgers and fries in a greasy joint they had stumbled upon. The food was pretty good. As a testament to that, Billy kept trying to steal fries off Steve’s basket. At first, Steve batted his hand away, but he gave up after a while. When Billy gave him a wide smile after finally succeeding, Steve couldn’t even be mad at him. He’d gave up all the fries in the world if it meant seeing Billy smile like that. Steve smiled back at him.

In the afternoon, while Billy was at work, Steve went to a coffee shop and bought a cappuccino for himself, and a giant raisin oatmeal cookie to go for Billy. He grimaced a little as he ordered the latter. Billy really had weird tastes, sometimes.

He sat down at a table and put the cookie in his backpack, before taking out his book. He progressed slowly, really slowly, only managing to read a chapter before he had to meet Billy back at the car. Yes, Steve had trouble with reading to begin with, but the fact that this book was making him emotional was not helping him read it any faster.

He related to the narrator a lot. He, too, was in love with someone close to him yet unreachable. He, too, had to admire them in silence. And the object of his love was as beautiful and as brave as the King was described to be. The only difference was that the King was said to have brown hair and eyes.

What the characters were going through also reminded him of what had happened because of the Upside-Down, in some way. Life in Hawkins was (or at least had been) so strange that it looked like something out of a fantasy novel. How wild was that? Steve mused, as he was waiting for Billy near his car.

When Billy made it to the car, he was carrying a thick brown envelope in his right hand and a paper bag in the left.

“Want some help with all that?” Steve asked.

“Uh… No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Billy assured, transferring the envelope in his left hand so he was carrying everything on the same side and could fetch the car keys from his pocket with his newly free hand. He opened the trunk and dropped everything in it.

Steve didn’t bother asking what was in the envelope, or in the bag. If Billy had wanted to share the information, he already would have. Steve definitely wondered, though.

“I have an oatmeal raisin cookie for you, if you’d like.” He said once they were in their seats, as he rummaged through his backpack in search of it.

“Oh yeah thanks! that sounds perfect.”

Billy took the paper bag from Steve’s hand as he unparked the car. Steve would have scolded him for eating while driving instead of focusing solely on the road, but that would have been slightly hypocritical of him.

“Well, that’s a relief, because no way I’d have eaten that if you didn’t want it.” Steve made a face again.

“That’s ‘cause you have bad tastes, Pretty boy.” Billy said, taking a big bite of the cookie and putting crumbs everywhere.

Steve laughed. If only Billy knew how much Steve loved him, he would certainly backtrack on what he had just said.

“It’s delicious, you don’t know what you’re missing.” Billy said in between bites.

Steve was watching him with a sad smile, glad that Billy’s eyes were on the road and not on him. It took him a few seconds to reply.

“Oh I know, believe me. I know.”

The next morning, when he woke up, Steve found the brown paper bag Billy had come back with at the foot of his bed. What the…?

The idea of Billy sneaking into his room during the night to put it there made something tighten in his chest, but Steve was mostly preoccupied with finding out what was inside the bag.

He basically jumped out of bed, which was very unusual of him (he was the exact opposite of a morning person), and reached for the bag. There was a box labelled Adidas in it… no way! Steve opened it with shaky hands and his jaw dropped.

What… how… why? Steve was confused. Billy had gotten him the sneakers he’d been looking at in the shop window. How had he paid for them? Why would he spend so much money on Steve? Especially so soon after his birthday… This was far too much.

Steve exited his room quicker than he would have if it had been on fire.

“Billy!” Steve might have called his name slightly louder than he meant to.

Billy, who was sitting at the breakfast table with his back to Steve, jumped and put a hand over his heart.

“Damn, Pretty boy, calm down. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“What the fuck?”

Robin darted her eyes between the two of them and announced: “I’ll leave you to it”, before retreating to her room with her bowl of disgustingly bland oatmeal.

“What gives, Stevie?”

“You know what, Billy. The shoes. What the fuck? Why did you buy them?”

“Isn’t that obvious? You wanted them, and I wanted you to have them. It’s not that big a deal.” Billy was not looking at him as he spoke.

Steve’s heart nearly melted. Because that was so fucking sweet of Billy to do what he did, and then say something like that. He couldn’t possibly accept the gift, though.

“Not that big a deal? They’re so expensive, Billy… I can’t … I can’t just take them… it wouldn’t be right.”

“Look, Steve… As I told you, my client from yesterday paid really well, and it’s my money, so I get to decide how to spend it, and I wanted to spend it on these shoes, for you. So please, keep them. They’re your size and not refundable, anyway. Either you keep them or they’ll just rot in the cupboard. That’s up to you.”

Steve was almost certain Billy was bullshitting him on the “not refundable” part, but he didn’t argue. It would be no use: Billy always won.

So, he just hugged him tightly instead. Billy froze for a second, but quickly let go of the spoon he was still holding to hug Steve back.

“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I did to deserve that.”

“You don’t need to do anything in particular, Pretty boy. Being yourself is more than enough.”

Steve was not a crier, but his eyes were undeniably misty. Billy couldn’t keep being so sweet and expect Steve to reign his feelings in. They were on the verge of overflowing already.

After finally letting go of Billy (not before leaving a kiss on top of his head, though), Steve put the sneakers on.

“Steve, seriously… you’re still wearing your pajamas.”

Steve’s pajamas consisted in frayed basketball shorts and a old Hawkins High t-shirt, so it was fine to wear the sneakers with them in Steve’s book. And he wouldn’t take these off until he absolutely had to.

“So what?” Steve asked.

Billy rolled his eyes, but his ears were red.

About a week later, Steve’s nightmares paid him a visit. They had left him alone for a while, but Steve knew they’d be back eventually. He saw Billy die again, which was simultaneously his worst and most common nightmare.

“Hey, Steve. Stevie. Wake up, please.”

He was shaken awake.

Thankfully, Billy was the one to wake him up from his dream, so Steve instantly knew he was alive and well. Steve threw his arms around him, buried his face in his neck, and inhaled his scent to calm himself down.

Billy held him close and rubbed his back, whispering reassuring words in his ear:

“You’re okay, Pretty boy. You’re fine. It was just a dream.”

Yes, Steve was alright. But the most important thing was that Billy was. That had been the object of Steve’s concern.

“I’m sorry… did I wake you?”

Billy sighed.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t mind, Steve?”

“As many times as I have to tell you the same thing.”

Billy’s room was right next to Steve’s. It wasn’t the first time he woke Billy up with his nightmare-induced screams. And Billy’s night terrors had woken Steve up a few times too.

“Touché.” Billy said. “Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” He added after a pause.

“I don’t know… Could you read to me again?”

“Sure, if it helps.” Billy agreed.

Steve snatched the book from his bedside table and handed it to Billy, who opened it where the bookmark indicated Steve had stopped.

“You read all this by yourself?” There was awe in Billy’s voice.

Steve was blushing, but in the low light of his bedside lamp, it was probably not very noticeable. At least, he could always hope.

“Yeah… uh… I was really into it.”

He had read about seven chapters on his own, which, added to the ones Billy had read to him the other day, only left three before they reached the end.

“Steve, you did really good!”

Steve blushed even harder. His face was burning at that point. Billy sounded so proud of him.

“It’s not like it’s a great achievement, or anything… but yeah, I guess it’s progress.”

“Hey, of course it’s progress. It’s a lot, Steve. Don’t diminish your accomplishments.” Billy said in a firm tone.

“Okay, okay. I won’t.”

“Good.” Billy sprawled on the bed and leaned against the headboard. He then tugged on Steve’s arm. “Now settle down.”

Steve did as he was told and settled right next to him, resting his head on Billy’s chest and putting an arm over his waist. Steve loved the feeling of Billy’s naked skin against his. When they had first moved in together, Billy wore long-sleeved t-shirts almost constantly, self-conscious as his scars made him. Now, he slept in nothing but shorts. Steve wasn’t the only one who had been making progress.

Billy was barely three sentences into the third to last chapter when his voice broke. He cleared his throat and resumed the reading as if nothing had happened. His voice was now breathy, though.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? We can stop.”

“I’m sure, Pretty boy. Now shut up and let me read.”

Steve effectively shut up and Billy got back to the task at hand.

In the last three chapters, the King lost his kingdom, the magician finally confessed their love and found out it was in fact reciprocated. Then, the narrator described their first kiss with the King, a kiss that made Steve’s chest constrict with longing. The fact that it was Billy’s voice describing it only made the longing ten time worse.

As Billy read the last words: “He was not ruling the kingdom anymore, but to me he would always be king. My king, my light, my love, my everything”, Steve was on the verge of tears.

He regularly went through terrifying nightmares and found himself unable to spill a single tear, but this book might do the trick. And okay, it might have been a bit mushy, but Steve was really digging it, alright?

He opened his eyes and saw a tear stain on the last page. For a second, he thought he had already started crying without noticing, but his cheeks were dry. It then occurred to him that the tear had come from Billy.

Steve put the book away from him and had to straddle him so they could be face to face. He then wiped Billy’s tears, but they kept coming.

“What’s the matter, Billy?”

Unlike Steve, Billy was a crier. Steve had seen him cry a bunch of times, when he’d been particularly tired, or sad, or frustrated. However, there was something he was not getting: why had Billy pretended he didn’t like the book in the first place? It had to be the book. What other reason did Billy have to cry right now?

“I… I’m sorry.” Billy just said before he started properly bawling and hid his face in his hands.

Steve was even more confused… and slightly panicked.

“Hey… hey… please, tell me what’s wrong. I… I don’t know what to do.”

Steve circled Billy’s wrists to ground him, but he didn’t try to pull his hands away from his face for fear it might make him retreat further into himself.

“I just… this book hits me really hard.” His voice was muffled, but Steve could still make out the words.

“But… you said it wasn’t very good.”

Billy lowered his hands. His eyes were red and puffy.

“I meant it… It still makes me sad, though.”

Steve frowned. He didn’t think a book could elicit such reaction in someone who didn’t like it all that much.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Steve wouldn’t have judged Billy, he would have understood. He never wanted Billy to feel so bad, and even less if it happened because of something Steve had asked of him.

“I should have… I should have said something. I’m sorry.” Billy’s breathing was uneven, and Steve could see his tears threatening to come back.

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry. You don’t have to apologize. Just tell me next time, okay?”

Billy nodded and Steve smiled at him tentatively.

“Let’s go to bed.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Billy mumbled.

Steve turned the lights off before moving from Billy’s lap to lay down. As Billy snuggled up with him, Steve couldn’t help but think about his recent behavior. Billy was acting a tad strange these days. He had gotten a lot better at expressing his feelings verbally in the last couple of years, and Steve was positive that the Billy he knew would have told him the book would upset him instead of pretending he would be fine.

Steve would have to talk to him when he was more clear-headed. The last thing he wanted was for Billy to close himself off again.

Thank you for reading :D

#Harringrove #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #fluffl #a lot of fluff with a side of plot #Robin Buckley #Harringrove fanfiction #Stranger Things #part 1 #part 1 of 2

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