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marksinn · 3 years

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Passion Project: Inspiration

I don’t think I’m starting at the beginning with this post. Keep your eyes peeled for later posts that explain what I’m doing and why.

After a month of thinking about, sketching and painting designs, I have finally done something. Essentially, recently watching two films has pushed me into action, and a part of me is ashamed to admit it. There isn’t a word count or any typesetting to curtail my thoughts here, so strap in.

When I created this brief I figured I’d draw a million wee skateboards, colour a few of them in, then fling my favourites into Adobe illustrator and make them look good. From there I would take the 5 best up to the skatepark and ask some of the patrons there which designs stood out to them. Next, I would adapt the three front-runners and create sweet PhotoShop mockups that would show what my designs would look like as skateboards. If I had the time, inclination or money by the end of the project, I would have the design laid onto a real skateboard (I’ve been looking to buy a new one for some time) and then be proud of myself.

So I’ve drawn some wee skateboards. Then I started upscaling the designs onto the floorboards of my loft:

This was an exercise to let me see how small things need to be adapted to be blown up. Skateboards can have any level of detail that you like on them, I hadn’t considered this until I was trying to draw a semi-perfect triangle for the traffic cone, or until I was using chalk to recreate four cubes. It’s also been fun to work with different media on chipboard - I have learned that most kinds of pencil, paint, chalk and charcoal do not like being used on chipboard. Decorating paint, however, has no such issues. Thanks, Dulux!

And so, with a few of these under my belt, I decided to try some digital designs. So I jumped into Illustrator and totally ignored my sketchbook, coming up with three designs that were all inspired by the day I had just had. The top design, I’ll focus on last, for reasons that will become apparent (unless you follow me on Instagram, where you’ll already know that it’s an absolute hit, with over 19 likes already!). I was told by a guy at the skatepark that he likes decks with very basic designs, just a colour or two, nothing overly detailed. Another skater told me that he often likes the basic wood background with one small emblem or sticker just beside the wheels.

The duo-tone design felt nice, I’m usually one for over-complicating things. I definitely have an attitude of “If there’s more in it, there’s a greater chance someone will find something they like”. The first colour choice put my girlfriend in the mind of a hand-bag she had seen photographed in the arms of Carrie Fisher - it was designed to look like a Prozac pill. So I changed the colours up, and added the separating black lines and textures to give it some subtle character. I then went full meta with the Minimal design. And, if I’m being honest, I’m incredibly happy with how it looks like a wee character. Expect to see that making a comeback in the very near future. But the top design is what really got me going.

I’ve recently been watching...

...Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, and have been loving Miles Morales’ multiple hobbies of graffiti, mixing beats and saving his neighbourhood from a variety of dangers.

I then went to the cinema to see In The Heights, telling the tale of the Latin community during a blackout in North Manhattan. I found myself wrapped up in the romance, tribulations and music of the cast, and was felt oddly proud of Lin Manuel Miranda - who wrote this as a stage-musical while he was in college, had a modicum of success with it, then went on to create Hamilton, one of the most important musicals of our time. With the success of that particular show taking the entire world by storm, he was given the opportunity to make his old, relatively only semi-popular play into a blockbuster film. You can’t help but be inspired by someone like that.

I often find towards the end of a film I’m inspired by the characters’ journeys: be that from zero to hero, from lonely to loved or from rags to riches. Then I walk out and carry on with my normal life doing normal things. And as the hero of the story’s dreams all came true in the closing minutes (sorry for the spoiler, but it’s a musical, they rarely end in despair), a thought floated across my mind:

I’m utterly sick of being inspired

Now, to my credit, I did figure out in the car home that ‘tired’ would be a far more fitting and rhythmic word to use in this sentence, but this was a mentality that I found resonated really strongly with me. I’m very good at being inspired, I think most people are. We hear stories of people starting their own business, achieving some sporting brilliance or overcoming a personal hurdle and we say “Wow, isn’t that inspiring?” or

“It really inspires you to go out and make a difference!” or

“They are such an inspirational speaker!”

Then we go off about our day, not acting on the inspiration, and, for the most part, remaining uninspired. So I decided to act.

I did some very quick research (/acquiring of images of graffiti) in order to get the right shapes and textures to create a spray paint effect in Illustrator. I did some very quick research (/confirming the colours) of South American flags, taking the blue and red used in flags of the home nations of Miles Morales from Spider-Man and Usnavi from In The Heights. And I created the top design.

YES! I had been inspired and I had drawn a wee picture to show that - I had acted on my inspirations!

Then I looked to my left and spotted three, blank skate decks that I had bought on a whim from Re:Ply (a wonderful wee company who do a great deal of charity work supplying boards to people who need them, selling boards to people who can afford them, and for a very reasonable fee, providing unusable decks to people who want to use them for artistic purposes). I realised I hadn’t acted on my inspiration, I had just drawn a few pictures of skateboards with the eventual aim of PhotoShopping them onto other pictures of skateboards.

So I took myself...

... into the city centre with a shoddily prepared speech: “I’m looking for some cheap, small cans of spray paint. I’ve no idea what I’m doing, or if I’ll be good at it, so don’t want to invest too much into this.” Hiding behind this self-deprecating shield I barged into multiple art-, pound- and model-shops and pleaded with the staff to help a young idiot out. Amazingly, a very kind shop assistant pointed me in the direction of Fat Buddha, a clothes shop I’d always ignored as it seemed a bit to “...” for me. I don’t know what it seemed, but I knew it wasn't my kind of shop. Happy to prove me wrong, the guys in there were super helpful and they helped me buy my first cans of spray paint.

Now I’d spent money...

... and as a skinflint, that meant I had to get use out of my purchases. I had tricked myself into being inspired. Inspiration led me to the drawing, inspiration had led me to buy decks and the paint, now inspiration had to make me spray paint.

I’ll stop yammering on now. Essentially, I had planned on creating some analogue designs then digitising them (I’m guessing I should do a post on my brief, yeah? Might just upload the PDF to save me talking more), but then I found that I was doing the complete opposite. Genuinely accidentally. I had played with a few typefaces from various websites to get fonts that represented the ideas I wanted. The top one was semi-stolen (I can’t use the word ‘inspired’ any more in this post) from the end credits of In The Heights. The larger font is something of a nod to inspirational quotes you see on Facebook or on glittery frames in B&M.

I printed those out and cut them into stencils (very impressed that my digital boards have been drawn to a workable scale, thanks Maths). And after putting down a tack-layer (GRAFFITI JARGON (I think)) I sprayed the whole lot in blue.

Next, I tried to get a little fancy. Using cardboard blockers to create straight lines I added stars* (borrowed from the Puerto Rican flag) and made the bottom stripes vaguely reminiscent of America’s Old Glory.

I peeled the lettering off, and I’d done it. I may have to explain the overtly-negative inspirational quote to people, but to me it’s a clear sign that there’s no point in just being inspired, and that’s all I wanted.

A weight I didn’t know I was carrying was lifted from my shoulders. The plan was to possibly end up with a self-designed skateboard. And now I have one.

*Yes, I know they’re crosses.

#pp_hncgd1 #allhandsondecks #skateboard

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mementomori-demimonde · 3 years

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Hidden Scars

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI.1 / XI.2 XII - XIII - XIV - XV

Chapter 16

You’re growing restless. Without having the latest idea of how much time has passed, without the faintest possibility of knowing if it’s day or night, with so little to do, you’re starting to lose your mind.

When Miranda had you in the cell of her apartment, she kept you somewhat entertained with the surprise of something new and unexpected every day. For as scary and painful and confusing it could be, it was still something.

Now that you’re in that confined space with her, your head is spinning with hundreds of thoughts and scenarios that make you feel dizzy.

You’ve thrown up a few times already, the throbbing in your head so intense that you’ve barely registered how Miranda had tucked you in the blanket and forced you to swallow every last drop of water you still had from the bottles, risking dehydration herself.

You don’t know if you’ve imagined it or dreamed it, but at some point you’ve even heard her banging on the door, demanding at least some medicine or more water or some food. Perhaps they thought you were putting on a show and didn't believe her words, but you were glad that after a nap - that could have lasted half an hour or even days - you were feeling better.

Rubbing at your still upset stomach, you watch her doing push-ups on the floor, keeping count even though she hasn’t asked you to, and squeeze your eyes tight when the movements of her body going up and down make your head spin again. The sharp intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you feeling ill again?” She asks, her voice urgent.

Cracking one eye open and swallowing thickly, you shake your head. She’s still on the floor, arms outstretched as she supports her weight, her whole body rigid and perfectly toned, when you exhale.

“I don’t know what it is.” You mumble, rubbing your forehead with the pad of your fingers. You’re vaguely aware that your hand is shaking.

“It’s this damn place, it’s what it is.” She snarls, rolling on her side and sitting crossed-leg in the middle of the small space. She’s studying you. “And you’re dehydrated.” She informs you.

“You’ve kept me without food and water for longer than this- I think.”

“I knew what I was doing.” She spits back, lifting her chin slightly.

“From what I remember,” You took a shaky intake of air while a weary smile tugged at your mouth, “you had to force-feed me at one point.”

Miranda narrows her eyes. Any other time you would fear the outcome of your bravery - or stupidity - for snapping back, but now you’re grateful for the reassuring tinge of playfulness that flashes on her face.

“You’ve always been a handful.” She murmurs. “Always had that fire. That’s what makes you so-”

She’s cut off abruptly when you hear some clanging noises coming from the other side of the door. You’re mentally cursing whatever o whoever has caused her to stop, because right now you can only care about what her words might’ve been if she had the opportunity to finish that sentence, but on the other hand, you can feel how grave the situation is by the way she tenses up.

In response, you tense up as well, struggling to focus on the door just like she’s doing. A pregnant silence has descended in the cell when she cautiously spins around to face the only way in and out, as if she’s ready to jump at anyone attempting to enter your space, like a lioness defending the territory.

It makes you feel safe.

The noises stop for a moment, then you hear something being dropped on the floor, the metal dragging on tiles and, finally, from underneath the door, a small flap swings open to let a sad-looking tray slide in.

You hear Miranda sigh heavily as she retrieves the tray, inspecting the content with a curious wince. You’d say she’s disgusted, but there’s a strange glimpse in her eyes when she pushes it close to you, grabbing a bottle of water and opening it for you before handing it over.

You roll your eyes, biting your tongue to prevent snapping at her that you’re perfectly capable of opening bottles - though, probably, you’re not right now - and take a tentative gulp.

Charmed by what intentions might be, you watch her grab one of the two energy bars, ripping the cover off with her teeth and taking small bites.

“Eat.” She says, sitting crossed-legged next to you. “Do it slowly, it tricks your stomach into believing it’s more food.” She instructs.

You eye the other energy bar, the pack of crackers, the few grapes that are scattered around the plate randomly. It doesn’t make sense and it makes you suspicious, despite the fact that she’s eating.

“What if it’s drugged?” You murmur, throwing a pitiful glance over. Your stomach is still upset and the last thing you wish to do is spend the next few hours retching again.

“It’s highly possible.” Miranda agrees, but keeps chewing. “But it’s the only source of nourishment they’ll give us and you need the fluids.”

“We’re taking chances?” You scoff, curling on yourself and hugging your knees protectively.

“I’m not taking chances.” Miranda sighs, she sounds annoyed. “You can handle the majority of drugs, you’re immune as much as I am. Do you really think I would take a risk like that?”

“I, uh-” You stare at her, mouth agape, blinking in puzzlement.

“Or we can always recreate one of our first days together, m’eudail, and I can shove those grapes into your mouth one by one and keep my hands on your pretty lips until you’ve swallowed everything down like the good girl you are, shall we do that?”

You gulp automatically, fighting the depraved thrill that has crawled down your spine, like a shiver, as soon as she’s started talking like that.

Weakly, you shake your head no, choosing to take another large gulp of water, instead, hoping that the heat would go away with your dry throat.

“Are we really immune, though?” You ask with a frown.

Miranda shrugs, not entirely convinced - you can see she’s hesitant.

“I did try my best and you responded well enough.”

“Evening drinks?”

Miranda cracks a broken smile in your direction.

“Clever girl.” She smirks, going in for the other bottle and taking a sip before closing it up again, perhaps saving it for later.

“You knew-” You murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, “You knew this would happen someday, that somebody would actually come and get you.”

“I tried my best not to let it happen.” Miranda sighs back, and you can tell by the slight quiver in her voice that she’s telling the truth. “I tried my best not to let it happen to you, but I couldn’t be sure to grant you complete safety so- I needed to prepare you.” She adds, her voice heavier, somehow.

Silence falls. You watch her chew the few remnants of her bar and then fidget with the wrapping. It seems like she’s playing, but you know by the gentle crease on her forehead and her unblinking eyes that she’s planning something. You decide not to disturb her and focus on putting something in your stomach: you’re hungry, and yet you don’t exactly feel like eating your bar, nor the grapes; thinking your body would appreciate something salty and dry, you heave a sigh and reach out for the crackers.

“Wait.” Miranda’s hand wraps your wrist in an instant, quick and efficient like a snake. She grabs the crackers before you do and you’re left watching her, mesmerized, as she meticulously works the nail of her thumb to scrape every salt crystal off, offering the crackers to you, one by one, as soon as she’s bared them.

At first, you think it’s the tricky part of the food, where they’ve stored the drugs or the poisonous substance, but then you see her gather the salt in the wrapping paper and ball it up as tight and as small as possible.

You quickly eye the camera, wondering how she managed to make it look unsuspicious or why on Earth would she think that no one would ask anything about her curious actions.

“What are you doing?” You dare to ask then, watching her placing the little envelope in full display, next to the extra unopened water bottle.

“You’ll thank me later.” Miranda says, but her voice is completely emotionless. She eyes the shiny ball of wrapping paper with spite. “Trust me.”

“You know I do.” You murmur sincerely, offering her a timid smile.

Miranda heaves a small breath, shifts closer to you, grabs all the crackers and spends the next ten minutes passing one unsalted cracker after the other. After making sure you’ve eaten everything, she kisses the corner of your mouth and licks a crumb off.

“Good girl.”

#miranda croft #miranda croft x reader #tfa #the flight attendant #fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 #four lines #hidden scars

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mushroommouth · 4 years

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Cassette Side A

I have been summoned.

Another reluctant reunion, but this time the reluctance is not mutual.

Part 1 of 2 of the Ghost!Jake interludes.

(---submitted by @corruwuption / 👻)

————-

Jake Pierly was never good at making an entrance.

An exit? Sure. He has been known to make a—well, he didn’t want to say dramatic, but that may be the closest word to how he’s left various situations.

In fact, Jake could probably say that his life was more defined by exits than by anything else. It was comfortable, in a messed-up kind of way.

Entrances in his life were rare. However, they meant more to him than anything else. Dan, Milo Sr., and eventually Milo’s son, became his family. They changed his life more than he could articulate and caused him so much pain and joy that thinking about it made his chest feel tight. They stayed and, despite everything, never left (well, except for Senior—but his presence, as much as Jake tried to swallow the pain and guilt down, never did).

It wasn’t like walking on stage. Performing was one thing—something scripted and practiced and expectations present. The real, genuine entrances were about an element of vulnerability. The opportunities where all eyes were on him as a human and a connection could be established or broken, were far and few in between. Jake liked it that way. It was safe.

So kissing Milo’s forehead and leaving, knowing he’d see him again tomorrow bright and early? That was easy. Jake even remembered to leave a note, telling Milo where he was and would be the following morning. He wasn’t about to wake Milo up—the kid needed his sleep.

Sitting on the couch, waiting for Dan to return? Not so much.

It didn’t help that Jake thought he’d never see Dan again. He assumed smashing his guitar was his final act, at least once he was thinking clearly enough to realize the consequences of what he did. But here he was in the encore, thanks to Milo.

He looked around the room, taking it all in again. Nothing had changed, not really, except the ringing silence that occurred. He wanted to get up and go to look at the pictures hung up in the dining room, but he liked the spot on the couch.

Jake still wasn’t sure what he’d say to Dan, but sitting here allowed a view pretty much as soon as he walked in. Jake could apologize and then lock himself in his room until Milo came back tomorrow.

It’d be quick. It’d be—fine. He just had to wait. Jake fidgeted with his hands.

It was getting late. He vaguely remembered hearing that Dan’s stitches were coming out, but it was clearly much later in the evening than any appointments would be scheduled for. Did Milo tell him about the stitches? Did he overhear it while Milo held his anchor? Jake wasn’t sure.

It really was getting late though. Jake took a deep needless breath and rubbed at his chest, trying to ease the sick feeling that was quickly building up.

Think of something else.

It was pretty weird being the only person home. It happened before—Milo had school and Dan had to work—but not at this time of the evening.

If Jake was the only one home, and he’s dead, does that count as a haunting? Jake snorted a bit at the thought. He’d ask Milo and Cody later. What haunted the place more, Jake, or the fact that the three of them bought the place when they were all so young?

It certainly was not meant to be this quiet. He hasn’t been back in a while, but this wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t have left Milo. This wasn’t—

Jake leaned forward and grabbed his hair. He took another deep breath. His form spasmed for a moment. Milo may have put the guitar back together, but everything still felt off. While it’d take him some time to build up energy and take the form he’d held for ten years, he’d get there. He had to.

Jake rubbed his face and leaned back. It was too early for him to fall apart. He just had to remind himself: this quiet?

It’d just be for a moment.

Knowing that didn’t make it easier, though, considering the next sound filling the house would be the conversation Jake both dreaded and anticipated. God, where was—

Click.

Dan.

Jake’s form shuddered again, almost fully going invisible in his panic.

Dan’s arms were full of grocery bags. He gently nudged the door shut behind him with his foot, eyes not really leaving the floor.

Jake’s stomach dropped. He knew it had only been a few months, but Dan looked older. At the very least, he hadn’t been sleeping. He’d lost some weight.

He looked so, so tired.

Before Dan could fully escape into the kitchen, Jake cleared his throat.

Dan jumped slightly and looked up.

The most Jake could do was force a smile and utter a single word.

“Hey.”

Dan promptly dropped all the groceries he was holding onto the floor. His eyes widened as he stared at Jake.

Jake stood up and shoved his hands in his suit pockets awkwardly. He walked towards Dan, stopping about halfway across the room.

“It’s…nice to see you, big guy.”

Dan’s hands went to his mouth. He was beginning to shake but otherwise didn’t move.

Jake sighed and took a few more steps.

“I just wanted to say…”

The newcomer was down. He was knocked out as soon as the guitar broke across his face.

Jake scowled, seeing he missed his original target. A panicked and delirious Aaron tried to scoot back away from him, eyes wide. His mouth was open, but his jaw was trembling too hard for words to come out. Jake felt his form painfully glitch again as he pledged his last action would be taking Aaron out with him, however possible. Jake’s shoulders lit on fire as he stepped over Dan and—

Dan.

Oh no. Oh god no.

Jake quickly turned around to see Dan, limbs splayed out. And, for the first time in days, Jake thought clearly.

“I’m sorry Dan.”

Jake knelt down. Blood was already trailing from Dan’s mouth.

“No no no—“

Jake knelt beside him and tried to turn Dan on his side to try and assess the damage.

However, his hands went right through Dan’s shoulders.

Jake yanked them back out in a panic. He was beginning to fade away. He needed to turn Dan in his side and check how hurt he was—Dan could choke on broken teeth or blood, or he could asphyxiate— turning him over could keep him safe until someone called for help—

—except he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything. And he did this to his best friend. For years, his only friend.

Jake wailed. His cry began to distort more, but he couldn’t stop.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorRY. I’M sorrY-“

Jake knelt by Dan. He couldn’t touch Dan, but he could still sit close enough that he could pretend he was cradling Dan’s head. Jake was continuing to fade. He became more transparent by the minute and he was…tired. He couldn’t take his eyes off Dan though, not until he knew that he’d be okay.

The front door opened.

And there was their son.)

“I should have trusted you. You’re my best friend and I-god, I’m so happy to see you’re okay, but I still hurt you.”

Tears began to bead up in Jake’s eyes as he tore his gaze away.

“I mean,” he forced a dry laugh. “I’ve hurt you before, but never like this.”

Jake wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his suit. He promptly shoved his hands back in his pockets after, feeling the alien sensation of his burial suit. He couldn’t look at Dan yet. The house was still quiet. Jake was trying to fill it with his own voice, but it wasn’t the same. It sounded…hollow. Wait, no. It sounded the same as when he was stuck in limbo.

“I, uh, spoke to Milo. I’m actually back because he fixed the guitar, which still just—it blows my mind. But I wanted to check on you before heading back to my room, you know?

Jake forced his gaze back to Dan. Dan still stared at him, though tears were now streaming down his cheeks, too. Jake waited a few moments before swallowing and speaking up again.

“You don’t have to—I don’t expect you to forgive me. I messed up. We’re all that’s left, and I didn’t trust you and I hurt everyone in the process. Just—“

Another laugh, this time panicked, escaped from Jake’s lips. He looked up at Dan’s blank expression and immediately clenched his eyes shut. He choked back a sob

“Just say something! Say anything, please! Just do it. Say that you hate me and I’ll go to my room and wait for Milo tomorrow but please, god, I can’t take this quiet anymore!”

Two arms suddenly engulfed Jake in a hug. Dan was sobbing and holding Jake so tight that Jake was sure he’d have broken ribs if he was still alive.

Jake stood completely still for a moment, surprised by the sudden embrace, before returning it. He buried his face in Dan’s shoulder and immediately soaked it, digging his fingers into the back of Dan’s shirt.

The two held each other for a moment until Dan pulled back slightly and wiped his eyes.

“I thought you were gone forever.”

Jake gave a watery smile.

“I thought so too.”

They both laughed dryly.

Dan rubbed his eyes again, smiling back at Jake.

“Jake, things haven’t been the same since…” Dan shook his head. “I missed you so much. All of us did. Milo hasn’t been himself, Dom and Miranda have been helping out, Cody’s been trying to take Milo’s mind off all this, and I-I’ve been a mess. In—heh—more ways than one.”

“That’s…okay,” Jake said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I mean, that only makes sense. Again, Dan, I hurt everyone. Milo, Aaron…I’m sure I didn’t make things easy for the Bridges…But I especially hurt you. It’s okay to be struggling.“

Jake took a moment to study Dan’s face, looking for any residual scars or bruising that he might have missed at first. Something seemed slightly off, but it could probably be chalked up to the treatment—or maybe Jake was overthinking it. Maybe Dan was just tired after all. Jake sighed.

“By the way, how are you feeling?” Jake asked quietly.

“Better than I have in a long time.” Dan smiled. “You’re back, I got my stitches off this morning, got sized this afternoon, bought some real food—“

“‘Sized?’”

“Oh, uh…” Dan rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I told the Bridges I’d get stitches out this afternoon, but I didn’t want to worry them any more than I already had. The emergency dentist did a really good job fixing some of my teeth—thankfully the front ones were the ones he was able to save— but he couldn’t fix all of them. So now that I don’t have the stitches holding my jaw in place, I was able to get sized! For, uh, some partials.”

Jake looked blankly at Dan for a moment, suddenly feeling sick, before running a hand through his hair.

“You could have died,” Jake said dumbly. His form shuttered and jolted.

“I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds!” Dan said quickly.

Jake just shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair again, stopping to grab a chunk as he looked at Dan.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jake replied. “You shouldn’t—under no circumstances should you have been hurt. Why-why would you even do that?”

It was Dan’s turn to play dumb.

“Do what?”

“Push Aaron out of the way and take the hit, Dan.”

“Oh.” Dan looked at the scattered groceries on the floor. “I, uh, promised him he wouldn’t get hurt. You know, while helping me. Plus, I don’t wanna say he ‘turned over a new leaf’ or whatever because I don’t know, but he was trying. And had people waiting for him.”

He looked back up at Jake with an expression that said he gave this subject way too much thought.

“And I really think you would have killed him if you managed to hit him,” Dan finished.

"What if I killed you on accident instead?” Jake’s voice got quiet and low. “What would have happened then—to you, or Milo?”

“I drank way too much milk as a kid for you to kill me with a guitar, Jake. My bones are way too beefy.”

Was his cheek broken? His jaw? Both? Jake could see the bruising and swelling form already. No matter how hard he tried, though, Jake couldn’t manifest enough to turn him over to see—

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Dan-“ Jake sighed. “I wasn’t in control back there. I don’t think I remember everything that went down, and I don’t—I didn’t even recognize you all the way when I tried to hit Aaron.It was what I’ve been scared about for a long time. I was just angry and acting on instinct. I wasn’t…well, I don’t think I was really me. Not this me, anyway.”

Dan thought for a moment before speaking up again.

“So, like some kind of not-our-Jake. You came back though! You’ve done that twice now.”

“Okay, but that’s no guarantee I won’t become this…’Not Jake’ again. And what if I get stuck? I don’t have nearly the same amount of energy I had before—or during—that whole thing happened. I was almost all the way gone. It wasn’t until I saw…” Jake shook his head. “Just…promise me you won’t take the big hits, okay? Not from anybody.”

“But if I didn’t—“

“But if you did, and we weren’t this—god, I hate to say it—but ‘lucky’ again, what would happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“Milo needs you. You always said I was the one to hold everything together,” Jake smiled bittersweetly. “But it was always you. You look out for everyone, Dan. It’s okay to let people look after you.”

Dan opened his mouth to reply before shutting it. He sighed.

“Okay. I’ll do my best. But one thing’s not true about that.”

“What?”

“Milo needs both of us.” Dan smiled. “We’re together, Milo will be back home tomorrow, and we’ll figure this ‘Not Jake’ thing out, okay?”

Jake shook his head, the same smile unwavering.

“I don’t get you sometimes. Wouldn’t being mad at me or even hating me be easier than…any of this?”

“Maybe, but you already said you weren’t yourself all the way. Besides, I’m too happy to know you’re back and okay.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Dan paused before scrunching his nose.

“Okay. I lied. I’m still kind of mad that you left without trying to talk about it, especially since we’re trying to communicate better. That sucked. But, we’ll talk it out later—preferably after we put these groceries away.”

“You got it.”

The two refilled the bags from the groceries littered across the floor. Jake felt tired. He burned up so much energy since coming back, and he accidentally let two bags phase through his hands. He couldn’t imagine how tired Dan was. He still felt weird being in the same room as Dan, especially after all that happened, but Dan was right. They’d talk it out.

Jake Pierly was not good at making an entrance. However—

“Oh, by the way, Jake?” Dan poked his head around the corner, wearing his pajamas. He looked like he stumbled out of bed to tell Jake this, remembering at the last minute, so Jake decided to humor him.

“Yeah?” Jake rested his hand on the doorknob, his form itching to retreat to the anchor.

“I will never eat soup again as long as I live. Well, goodnight!”

—Dan may be better at the exits.

—-

“You’re right! That’s definitely him!” The voice on the other line sounded both ecstatic and relieved. “So Ms. Pierly was able to help?”

“Yes.” The priest leaned back into his chair, looking at his copy. “She was able to direct us to her sons’ school, where I found a yearbook from his senior year. She also confirmed that her son, Jacob Pierly, did not die in that house. Poor lady. She lost both her sons, you. The oldest died, and the youngest, well…I’d feel obligated to cut ties with him too after what he did.”

The other line was silent for a moment.

“If-If ‘Jacob’ didn’t die in the house, what does that mean for…?”

“It means he has ties to the house, even if he doesn’t reside there. If you flip to a slightly younger grade, I believe you’ll find one of the two men that were in your house following the most violent wraith attack. One was the younger son of Ms. Pierly. The other is Mr. Fuller.”

The other line remained silent.

“It was very kind of you to not pursue charges.” The priest continued smoothly. “After all, I’ll have to check in with them to see if they happen to be harboring Jacob.”

“Oh.”

“Please don’t worry. I’ll be sure the wraith won’t bother you or your husband again.”

#GOOD MORNING SKYE MADE ME CRY #I JUST #SDFSDFSDFDSF YOU WRECK ME IN THE MOST WONDERFUL WAYS AND I COULD HAVE SCREAMED WHEN I SAW THE SUBMISSION #POINTS AT ALL THESE BOYS AND SOBS #POINTS AT THE END AND SOBS #and the way you know the characters so well GETS ME EVERY TIME LIKE YOU JUST GET THEM #thank u skye i am wrecked bless u and i love u #friend art #fics #ghost jake #dan #jake #submission

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twilightsunclan-fr · 5 years

Text

A Cold Winter’s Morning

Ivory woke from a dead sleep to Bean’s tiny, yet suspiciously heavy body, hitting his face.

“Ow.” He muttered, easily trapping the eternal hatchling under a paw before she could make a break for the entrance tunnel, and freedom. Bean screeched her outrage at being thwarted from leaving the den. “Yeah, I know.” Ivory mumbled, blinking the sleep from his eyes, if Bean was up then Ivory was too. “I’m a horrible parent for stopping you from freezing to death.”

At his side, Ophrys slept on, not even stirring from Bean’s audio assault. Ivory didn’t expect him to. During the winter into the first few days of spring, Ivory was essentially a single parent.

Ophrys’ link to all things green and growing went a little further then his springtime escapades. In the late fall he started slowing down, sleeping later, going to bed earlier. And eating every chance he got. By the time the first snow fell, he was already fast asleep. Curled up in their large collection of blankets and furs, deep in the central room of the den. If Ivory was lucky, he might be able to rouse Rhys enough to shove some extra food or water down his throat about once a week or so. For the most part though, Rhys was dead to the world until spring.

Which left Ivory to take care of things around the den and their tiny charge until Ophrys was back on his feet.

“Alright, alright.” Ivory heaved himself to his feet, untangling his wings and tail from the blanket mass. “Let’s go.” Bean subsided into baleful muttering, but on the whole seemed pleased with Ivory’s choice to carry her up the tunnel mouth. Ivory squinted against the blinding glare of the sun off the snow, he nosed the double layer of heavy oil cloth and insulation drape back from the cave mouth.

“Ugh.” He groaned, tugging his mantel a bit tight around his shoulders and neck. It was quite chilly out, Bean whimpered and ducked closer into his hold. “Oh sure.” Ivory mumbled. “Now you’re having second thoughts.” He tucked her into a warm fold of his mantel, settling her in like it was a sling and set off across the sleeping garden. It hadn’t snowed last night, making his progress easier. He followed his footsteps from the previous days, out of their den area and along the forest path into the clan territory proper.

In the main market area of the clan, snow had been cleared away and it was nice not to have to squelch his way through wet, cold, snow. Several dragons he knew called hello, and Ivory greeted them back. Not staying long to share more then a few words. He had a mission after all. One that only heightened when he caught sight of Regnum’s hunting party carrying the spoils of their latest hunting trip in.

“Good Morninghellohi big cousin!” He recognized Ophrys’ apprentice AllMartyr under the carcass of a griffin. He dipped his head in greeting. “Goodbest week for hunttrip! See you at tent!” She waddled off after her elder brother and sister, walking awkwardly on her back legs, her front claws full of bundles of fish tied together, while the griffin was draped over her back, secured with several lengths of rope.

Ivory followed sedately behind her, taking time to enjoy the subdued hustle and bustle of the clan around him. The market place was always busy as a way stop, though quieter in the winter when travel slowed. It was still far more populated then Ophrys’ relatively isolated garden lair.Traders were waiting out the season before moving on, buying supplies and goods to take to the road as soon as spring came. Performers working on new shows for the Trickmurk Circus at the end of the winter season. Crafters taking the downtime of low to no traveling to build their stock back up for the spring festivals. Ivory enjoyed the sounds and movement of dragons going about their business around him.

It was a short walk to his destination. Which sat square in the center of the marketplace. While Regnum and her siblings went around to the back to make their deliveries, Ivory pushed his way in through the front tent flap.

“Oh look who’s wide awake and ready for action.” Iubar’s warm sarcastic voice greeted Ivory with the warmth of the cooking tent. During the warm months the pavilion was open to the elements, small magics keeping the rain and wind at bay. But during the heavy winters, the pavilion was enclosed in a tent, enspelled with anti fire enchantments and charms to keep the warmth from the cooking fires in and the cold of the season out.

“Yeah, yeah.” Ivory endured his friend’s teasing. Finding his usual table near Iubar’s cooking station, the right size for an imperial, empty. He deposited Bean on the table top. “Got anything warm and filling for the baby sprout here?”

“Of course.” Iubar set down a shallow bowl delicately in front of Bean. While adorably tiny for an imperial to handle, it was still twice the size of Bean herself. And filled with a faintly steaming serving of oatmeal. Ivory caught Bean by her furiously wagging tail, just barely stopping her from diving headfirst into the meal. Snickering Iubar sprinkled a finishing touch of cinnamon and maple sugar on the oatmeal.

“What do we say?” Ivory prompted Bean. Bean didn’t even look up from the bowl of her dreams, yet still managed to squeak out something that sounded vaguely thankful. “Good enough.” Ivory let go and Bean, quite literally, flew into the oatmeal. Iubar laughed out loud at Bean’s enthusiastic attack on his food.

“It’s always good to see my work appreciated.” He commented mildly. “What can I get for you?”

“The usual.” Ivory said, placing a stack of treasure on the tabletop. Far away from Bean’s shenanigans.

“Coming right up.” Iubar turned away, the sizzle and smell of meat making Ivory’s stomach growl. Ivory distracted himself from Iubar’s knowing smirk by checking out the clientele in the tent. Even though it was long after the breakfast rush, there were still some dragons lingering over their breakfasts, warm drinks or starting an early lunch. He could spy Dai, the brightly colored skydancer, holding what looked like a very animated discussion with his assistant, Chanticleer, and the alchemist, Disco over steaming plates of eggs and waffles. Ivory mentally made note to check out Dai’s Trickmurk show, it was bound to have some interesting pyrotechnics. (Rhys would love to hear him describe it when he woke up.)

At another table Preafloro and Cerintha were sipping tea from mugs, listening to PicassoMoon describe his latest jewel spell project. The small coatl was puffed up with excitement and Ivory had to tell himself it would be terribly rude to interrupt their conversation to pet him. He clenched a fist under the table.

Finally at a far more isolated corner of the tent, co-clan leader Obadiah was pouring over a thick stack of notes. A bowl of oatmeal forgotten at his elbow.

“You seen Caelum lately?” Ivory asked Iubar, as his friend set an imperial sized plate of scrambled roc eggs and big horn steak in front of him. “How’s he holding up?” Caelum was possibly worse then Ophrys at handling the winter. Which was hilariously ironic considering Tundra’s were made for the snow and ice. Iubar shrugged, a simple lift of his shoulders and wings.

“Stella’s been by a lot more lately, but not more then usual for this time of year.” He named the clan’s medic and Caelum’s best friend/possible life partner. No one could tell and/or had the guts ask either. “So I guess Caelum’s doing as well as he normally does.” On the table Bean made a mess of both herself and the bowl of oatmeal. Getting as much if not more smeared around her face and paws then in her mouth.

Ivory chewed his steak thoughtfully. He liked foods that required some chewing.

“How’s your mate?” Iubar poured him a large mug of coffee. “He still a sleeping beauty?” Ivory nodded, washing down his steak with gulps of coffee, which Iubar quickly topped off.

“It’s so quiet out there. You’d think the whole wide world was asleep and not just that one little piece of it.” Bean crowed with delight on finding a dried berry hidden in the oatmeal, attacking it with gusto. Ivory smiled faintly down at her. “Decided we needed a bit of a change today.” Iubar nodded, propping his elbows up on his counter.

“Gonna walk around the market then? I hear there’s a new weaver in this morning. Might have their wares set out.” Ivory forked up some of the roc egg while he thought.

“No reason not to. I could probably convince Dai to get Ezili to carve Bean something to chew on too, while he’s here.”

“Haven’t seen Val around lately either.”

“He’s holed up at his clan. It’s not as easy to travel for just a night, ya know. And they need him there. He’s coming by this weekend though.” Iubar nodded, sipping at a glass of water. “How about you? Saw Reg and her crew bringing a delivery by.” Iubar grinned.

“Damn right they did. Can always count on those kids to bring me the good stuff. Nerio brought them up right.” He turned back to his prep work. “Gonna start a stew tonight. And we’ll have a fresh fish fry tomorrow while it cooks. Martyr’s a more then decent fisher when she has the patience to sit for it.” Ivory hummed, taking slow mouthfuls of his coffee now.

“Tell me about it. She’s got too much energy on the whole. Rhys is always having to send her off to dig a new plot before he can get her to weed or water.” Iubar and he shared a laugh. They moved onto other topics, Ivory’s plans for the spring (“I’ll be uh...spending it with Rhys.”), Iubar’s plans to expand (“We’re getting more traders every spring and summer, to say nothing of the fall.”), the latest debate (“Glad I wasn’t the mediator on that one.” “Heard Nike had to rule on it, you know how she hates that.”), and other small gossip (“Word in the market’s that Disco and Miranda might finally tell us if he’s her charge.” “No!”)

The late morning turned to early afternoon and Bean sat back on her haunches with a satisfied burp. Iubar handed Ivory a damp cloth to clean her with.

“I’ll see you in a few days then. Bring Val by for brunch.” Ivory mock saluted, settling Bean back into place in the folds of his mantel. She’d be conked out in no time for an afternoon nap while he walked around the marketplace.

“Will do. Thanks for the grub.”

“Anytime.”

#flight rising lore #c: ivory #C: Iubar #c: bean

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stillthewordgirl · 7 years

Text

LOT/CC fic: Time & Tide, Ch. 2 (”Come and Turn the Tide”)

In 1985, a Time Master grabs young Lisa Snart for the Refuge…but there’s no way she’s going anywhere without her brother.

And years later, when Miranda and Jonas die and the Time Council refuses to do anything, Rip Hunter turns to his oldest friend…

(Based on what was originally meant to be a throwaway line in “Secret Santa.” There will be CaptainCanary. Because it’s me.)

Can also be read here at AO3 and here at FF.net. (As can Chapter 1 and the prologue.) Many thanks to @larielromeniel!

What you gonna do when things go wrong? What you gonna do when it all cracks up? What you gonna do when the love burns down? What you gonna do when the flames go up?

(Simple Minds, "Alive and Kicking," 1985)

"You know this is a bad idea." Lisa's voice isn't disapproving. She knows better. Instead, it's resigned. And that's a tone she's become very used to taking with her older brother over the years.

"It's Miranda and Jonas, Lis." Len watches her intently through the viewscreen on his ship. He'd rather see her in person, but the Solace is actually keeping an eye on an untimely outbreak of typhoid fever in 2022. "You know them. You helped deliver Jonas! I can't let Rip deal with this on his own."

"Yes, but…" The professional time ship captain nibbles her lip like the little girl he remembers, then sighs. "This is why we're not supposed to have attachments," she tells him with resignation. "You know that."

"I think the Time Council would be better if they did." Len holds up his hands when she starts to retort. "Yeah, yeah, I know." It's an old argument. "But I'm helping. I'll do my best to keep my nose clean. Clean-ish. I just wanted to update you."

That gets him a smile. "Thank you," Lisa tells him. "Now…don't tell me more. What I don't know, I can't tell."

She might act like she's a rule-follower, these days, but that's the sister he remembers. Len grins.

"That's it," he tells her, leaning back in his chair, "be a rebel. Fight the evil Empire."

Lisa smiles again, but the expression is a little torn, and Len's already regretting his quip. When she starts to speak again, there's something sad and regretful in her tone.

"Len," she says, using his real name, which she rarely does, "someone needs to protect time. And they saved us."

Yeah, to do their bidding and their dirty work, he thinks. But all he says is, "I'll be careful."

They both know he probably won't.

He keeps his stop at the Refuge brief. Mary is enigmatic as always, but Len continues to think she knows more than she's letting on, both about Rip's quest and the Time Council's decision to ignore Vandal Savage's actions. Still, she's one of the very few people he trusts. He gives her a few new time-travel books he's found; they chat about the newest children added to her flock.

When he leaves, she doesn't ask where he's going.

"Welcome back onboard, Captain Tyler. It is good to see you."

"Good to hear you, Gideon." Len pauses in the bigger ship's hatch. He always considers it only polite to interact with the AIs, and Gideon has quite the personality. They get each other. "How's he doing?"

A pause. "As well as can be expected," the AI finally says, quietly. "This…plan, it is letting him maintain hope. I'm not quite sure of the wisdom of it, but there is that."

"Hope's a powerful thing," Len acknowledges.

"Indeed."

The much smaller Falcon is parked next to the Waverider in this deserted lot in Central City, both ships cloaked and waiting. Len knows that Rip issued his invitation to eight people, all from this time, presumably chosen from the dossiers he'd assembled, but the other man has done some of his own research, too. There could be additions.

"Ah! There you are." Rip is striding down the hall, and the energy about the man convinces Len that Gideon is precisely correct in her assessment. He's using the hope of this gambit to keep himself going. "They should be here soon. If they're coming, but I think they will." He nods at Len. "You were right…"

"There are those words again."

Rip ignores him. "… I think it was the correct call to tell them the true nature of the mission. None of them liked the notion that time would forget them."

"Not surprised. These hero-y types generally…"

"Captain Hunter, Captain Tyler," Gideon cuts in, "there is a group of eight people outside. They're rather obviously wondering if they're in the right place. It's time."

Eight. So all of them had agreed to come. The two men exchange a glance, then start for the hatch.

Once they're there, Rip waits more or less patiently for it to open, but Len leans out just a little, still concealed by the Waverider's cloak, and studies them. The inventor, the hawks, the…

"Aaahh," he breathes, watching. "You did invite the assassin. And she agreed."

"Of course. You recommended her mostly highly…" Rip cuts his gaze to his friend, then sighs. "Oh lord," he mutters. "This is part of your…fetish...for dangerous people, isn't it?"

"No. Yes…maybe." He tilts his head to consider the group. "Wait. Who's the…"

But Rip's heading down now, lifting his voice to greet the people he's promised to make legends, and Len's left standing in the ship. He's pretty sure the Waverider's captain means him to stay and watch, rather than putting himself out there and confusing the matter.

He shrugs, and follows anyway.

"…you imagine what a time ship would look like in, say, Victorian England?" he hears Rip explain, just as he uncloaks the Waverider. "Holographic indigenous camouflage protection."

"Just call it a cloak, Rip. Makes more sense and is a lot less bombastic." Len stops just behind him, eyeing the group with interest. "Well, isn't this an interesting lot."

He hears Rip sigh, but the other man doesn't even bother scolding.

"Stop looking at my crew like you're trying to decide who to seduce," he mutters, under his breath.

"Nah, I figured I'd just seduce all of 'em." Len tilts his head, trying to see if any of the group heard them. From their expressions, probably not. "Introduce me?"

Rip pinches his nose, but sighs and accedes.

"Ladies and gentleman, Time Master Captain Jack Tyler," he says with resignation, raising his voice and waving a hand. "A friend of mine."

"I thought you said they wouldn't help you." The assassin is staring at him. He grins at her. She rolls her eyes.

Rip catches the byplay and rolls his eyes too. "He's..."

"He's not they," Len interrupts. "I might sortof work for them, but I don't like the Time Council much. And the feeling's mutual." He shrugs. "Can't be here for everything, but I'll help when I can."

Another in the group—the inventor—opens his mouth to comment or ask a question, but Rip's already herding them toward the ship, and they go willingly enough. Well, Len can't blame them. He still remembers the first time he saw a time ship. (Granted, it'd been memorable, in part due to the abduction and nearly freezing-to-death part of it.)

He waits for the others to proceed onboard—lifting an eyebrow at how the professor has to get help with the unconscious kid-and then follows, smirking as he realizes that he's only a few paces behind the assassin. Sara Lance, he should use her name. He admires the view for a few moments, then catches up to walk beside her.

"Even if you're a broad-minded individual, this is a lot to take in," he drawls. "How are you doing?"

Suspicious blue eyes glance at him. She doesn't stop walking. "Why are you asking me?"

"You seem to be the only person on this boat who doesn't…" He pauses, choosing his words with a little more care than he'd originally planned. "…have powers or a dozen doctorate degrees."

Sara snorts, pausing to watch him. "Actually, I was dead for a year."

He knows that, actually—and it doesn't really contradict his observation. "Hey, I'm just trying to make conversation."

"Yeah, I can tell by the way you're staring at my ass." But there's a faint flash of humor in her eyes as she turns away-and granted, he had been staring at her ass. Len grins as he follows her, enjoying the view, but enjoying the banter even more.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

When they've all filtered onto the bridge area, though, he wanders away, needing to study the others in this so-called team they've created. The inventor is wide eyed, as is the professor. The kid is still unconscious, deposited in a jump seat, and, oh, there's certainly a story there. The hawks are inspecting the ship, too, and Len studies them, intrigued at this chance to see two of the characters in the nearly 4,000-year-old story he's been researching.

"Tyler, hmmm?"

At the amused voice, he turns, finally face to face with one of the few people he hadn't recommended for this team—someone he knows nothing about.

The third woman in the group is probably more striking than the other two, in purely aesthetic terms, a tall redhead with velvety, shrewd brown eyes and a lovely complexion that's a good bit darker than most redheads he's known. She's older, too, probably around his own chronological age, and damn if it doesn't look fine on her.

She's gorgeous, actually, and she exudes confidence, something that's usually an attraction for him. But Len dislikes her on sight, a feeling he doesn't even have a name for running down his spine, distrust and an odd recognition, and he has to force himself to give her a cool smile.

"Alexa Azeri," she says, smiling back at him, something just a touch predatory in that smile. "I'm a…shall we say, I'm an acquisitions expert."

Len nods to her, murmuring something vague. So, this is the criminal element that Rip had mentioned being uncertain of.

"And you?" he asks, looking at the big, scarred man next to Alexa, a man who hasn't uttered a word, the only other person here he knows nothing of. There's a weird pull there, too. Not an attraction—bruisers aren't his type—but a feeling like he should recognize the other man.

"He's just hired muscle," the woman interrupts, putting a hand on Len's arm. "My…bodyguard."

Len can't handle the familiarity. Or the attitude. He pointedly pulls his arm away and continues to focus on the big man.

"And you?" he asks the…bodyguard…again, pointedly.

The guy blinks, then glances at Alexa, whose face is now carefully blank. Then he looks back at Len.

"Mick," he says shortly, his voice a gravelly rumble. "Mick Rory. I…like she said. Bodyguard."

Len accepts it…for now. "Pleased to meet you, Mick," he says, pleasantly, ignoring Alexa's attempt to talk to him again as he turns away.

It's probably a mistake. But he hasn't survived this long as a Time Master by ignoring his instincts. And those instincts are screaming at him to stay the hell away from Alexa Azeri.

Rip's been holding forth, as he tends to do, and introducing most of the team to Gideon. Now, he's explaining how Savage's movements have been hidden in time, and detailing their first destination. Len, listening, nods at the mention of St. Roch.

"I'll meet you there," he cuts in as his friend pauses. "I need to check…stuff. I'll put the ship down near wherever I detect the Waverider."

"You have another ship?" the professor queries, interest in his tone. "Like this one?"

Well, Len can never resist a chance to brag about his ship. Not matter how much Rip laughs at him about it.

"Yes," he says, just a tad proudly as the other Time Master rolls his eyes, then decides to make a small verbal jab. "Well, faster. Smaller. Sleeker. Name's The Falcon."

"Falcon?" The inventor, Ray Palmer, perks up. "You mean like…?"

Len points at him. "Someone on this ship with some culture! Yes, just like." He looks pointedly at Rip. "See. Some people get it."

His friend gives him a weary look. "Are you quite done?"

"For now."

It's not that he doesn't trust Rip. He does, with his very life. But sometimes the man just doesn't…think.

(He conveniently ignores any number of ironies in that thought.)

It doesn't take long for Gabby to pull up information on both Alexa Azeri and Mick (Michael, actually) Rory. Len leans back and drums his fingers on the console, reading.

Aside from the very basics of family and origin, all of it unremarkable, almost all the information about the former involves her line of work. Alexa doesn't seem to have a set base of operations, although she's been associated with jobs in both Central and Star cities. Jewels seem to be her favorite, but technology is a very strong second. Her MO is all over the place, too…classic scams and cons, heists that rely on teamwork and skill, even the odd smash and grab.

One thing there's a steady string of, though, are fall guys, and girls. Oh, she has a rap sheet, an extensive one, and she's done time in fine institutions from juvenile hall right up to Iron Heights. But almost every time, there's someone else involved, someone on whom Alexa has promptly given evidence—in return for other considerations, of course. And at least a few times, her partners have wound up with a bad case of dead as she made off with the loot.

You'd think she'd have a hard time finding partners, after all this, but it seems there's always someone in line to buy her story, and promises of an easy payoff—and the assurance that she sees something in them, for whatever reason.

A user. He knows the type.

Lewis' face rises in his conscious memory for the first time in ages, and Len shakes his head roughly, willing the image away. His father is long since dead, having mouthed off to the wrong boss in Iron Heights after yet another heist gone wrong, and neither Len nor Lisa mourned him when they found out.

Oh, yes, he'll keep an eye on Alexa Azeri. If only because she brings up some bad memories.

Mick Rory is from Central City, and only a few years older than his own chronological age. Len sits forward, reading the file with interest. The few notes on speculated abuse raise the hairs on the backs of his arms—too many reminders of the past, too quickly—but he continues, taking in the tale of arson and juvie and all sorts of potential gone, the descent from petty theft into robbery and murder.

Because what else was there left, in a world that couldn't forgive a scared kid for one horrible, irreversible mistake?

Could have been him. Could have been him, so easily.

And if he's not wrong, reading between all these lines, Rory has a bit of a death wish, so much so that he's not sure how the man has stayed alive all these years.

There doesn't seem to be much connection to Azeri there, but Len's practiced eye notes a few instances where they've been in roughly the same place at the same time. Not long-time partners or anything like that. Perhaps it is as the woman says…he's hired muscle.

He's pretty sure it's not that simple.

Or innocent…at last on Azeri's part.

By the time he does this, follows the Waverider to 1975 St. Roch, and saunters back onto the bigger ship, the newbies have worked through their assorted issues with time-travel effects and are more or less sorted. The kid, Jefferson "call me Jax" Jackson, is awake and not happy with his Firestorm counterpart, and while Len can't really blame him, he knows they needed both halves of the superhero for the greatest effect.

He's not going to say that, though.

There's more friction between Rip and the team, too.

"You're benching us?

"This mission doesn't require your particular skill set."

"Meanin' you don't need anyone killed, maimed or robbed," Rory rumbles, then glances at Alexa as if worried she'll be annoyed he's speaking out of turn.

But the woman is focusing more on Len, now that she's noticed she's back on board, and he's just not sure he has it in him to be charming. He sidles, instead, toward Sara, who looks faintly amused.

"Sure it's a good idea to leave these two unsurprised on a time machine?" questions the inventor, Palmer, just a touch too loudly.

"Hey, haircut. Deafness wasn't one of the side effects," the big man rumbles, but he does it under his breath, and Len snorts in amusement. The other man glances at him, the corner of his mouth quirking up just a little. There's a moment, just a flicker, of connection.

Then Alexa's at Rory's side, whispering something in his ear, and the man's face goes blank again. Len fights back a moment of rage (he doesn't know what's being said, and his imagination might be overly active given what he's read of them), but before he can say anything, Rip's grabbing the sleeve of his jacket and dragging him over to a corner of the bridge, looking harried.

Granted, that's pretty normal for Rip.

"You'll stay?" his friend hisses, eyes pleading in a way that belies the almost aggressive tone of the words. "While we head for the university?"

Len blinks at him. "You mean, will I babysit them? Me? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, actually, but…" The other man sighs. "You're going to say you told me so."

"I told you so. OK, now it's done with." He narrows his eyes. "What are you regretting already?"

"Ms. Azeri and her compatriot. I…" Rip sighs again as Len smirks at him. "OK, yes, yes, I should have stuck with your recommendations. But none of them with this…skill set…were as easily findable, and…"

Something about that seems off, but Len lets it go. "What about them? It's not like Gideon's going to let her get away with anything."

"I know." Rip eyes him. "Just see if you can find out a little more about them. And not just her. I didn't want the other man—Mr. Rory—on board at all, but she insisted she needed to bring 'muscle' and, frankly, the team could use that too. But I haven't been well pleased with what I've been able to learn."

Len shrugs, although he has every intention of learning more about them too. "Give the guy a break," he tells his friend. "Gotta feeling."

"The arsonist?" Rip blinks at him. "Are you serious?"

Len claps him on the shoulder as they turn back to the others. "Brother, we both entered the Refuge as petty thieves. Arson's the least of what we could have gotten up to if things had been different." He lowers his voice. "I'm more concerned about her."

Rip starts to retort, but then stops as Alexa moves toward them, interest sparking in her eyes at their quiet conversation.

"I'm more than happy to stay behind on this fascinating ship," she purrs, eyeing them both. "Could I, perhaps, get a tour? I'd really like to learn more...about your ship, too..."

Now she's looking right at Len—his brush-off from earlier apparently not having registered. He stares back at her, nonplussed, even as he senses Rip making a rapid escape with the hawks, Professor Stein and Palmer.

He's always erred on the side of charming everyone and letting things sort themselves out later, but apparently bluntness is the order of the day.

"Not interested in what you're selling," he tells her flatly, folding his arms, eyes cold. "You ain't my type."

Startled for just a moment, the redhead raises her eyebrows. Then she glances over at Rory and smiles before glancing back at him.

"Ah," she says knowingly. "You like men."

"Some men," Len agrees. "Some women. Not you. So, stop wasting your time and maybe we can manage a decent working dynamic."

Her eyes widen at his bluntness, a flash of something that might almost be hurt in them before they narrow again.

"Got it," she snaps back. "You don't know what you're missing. And you just might regret it at some point."

Len lets her have her comeback, watching as she turns on her heel and heads off. Then he sighs, leaning back against the wall and watching the kid—Jax—and Rory mess around with the viewscreen. (Although Rory's clearly wondering if he should follow his...whatever...)

"Think you might have irritated her."

He glances to the side, sees that Sara has wandered over to lean against the wall next to him. Her gaze is considering, and he bites back innuendo. Not the time. Unfortunately.

"You saw that, huh?" Len says instead, turning toward her a little. "Yeah, probably. But I don't like it when people treat other people like property," he says shortly, meeting her eyes. "I just…don't."

(The kids at the marketplace were screaming, crying, and he was supposed to just turn and walk back to his ship, leave the timeline as it was meant to be, ignore the cries...)

He ruthlessly pushes the memory of that mission back down again. There's a flash of understanding in Sara's eyes, though, and she merely nods, watching the other woman, who's moved to inspect the captain's console. After a moment, she sighs ruefully, muttering quietly, "I don't like this."

"Hmm?"

The gaze she darts at him has a hint of humor. "Oh, you know. The old trope that when there's more than one woman in a group, they always get all catty with each other and fight instead of backing each other up. I hate that. And she's gorgeous, so I sort of wish I felt differently, but…"

"Ah." Len considers. "Well, she's tripping every alarm bell I have, too. I don't know why." He shrugs it off, and grins at her. "If it makes you feel better, fight the trope. Make friends with bird girl."

Sara snorts, but nods. "I plan to. Although her boyfriend's an ass."

"He kinda is, isn't he?" He can't help but lean toward her, draw to her as much as…more than…he's repulsed by Alexa. "I've been looking into the whole Savage thing and everything else for Rip since…well…and not every incarnation's that bad. It seems to depend on…"

But Sara's eyes are considering again. Maybe a little wary. "So, you know all our backgrounds?"

Len considers prevarication, then goes with honesty. "Yeah. I recommended most of you." He tilts his head and gives her a look through his lashes, attempting to distract her. "Especially you. You're badass."

His admiring tone gets a smirk, quickly concealed. "And you're a flirt," she counters, watching him. "But…most of us?"

"Aaaaand you pay attention," he adds, not missing a beat. "I like that too." He sighs as she levels a glare at him. "I'm not sure where Rip got the idea for Redheaded Trouble over there, but not from me."

"And the 'hired muscle?'"

Something in her tone says she's sensed something off there, too. "I don't know him either." Len makes a quick decision. "But Rip wants me to find out more. And I don't get a good vibe out of whatever she's got on him."

"Hmmmm. And what do you have in mind?" Sara whispers back. But even as she asks the question, though, Len sees a flicker in her eyes, and leans forward, intrigued.

"What are you thinking?" he asks in a low tone.

She tells him. And Len leans back and stares at her.

"I like you," he tells her, utterly seriously. "I mean, I really like you."

Sara's lips twitch again. "I can't imagine Captain Hunter will be very happy about it."

"Well, Rip's not here." He smirks. "And I am. I say we do it. Gideon?"

The AI's tone is low and localized to the corner they're standing in, making Sara startle, just a tiny bit. "Yes, Captain Tyler?"

"Rip's got all his protocols with you locked down tight, right?"

"Of course. But I don't know that this is a good idea. Captain Hunter would probably not approve."

Eavesdropper, he mouths to Sara, then speaks aloud again. "As I said, Rip's not here. I am. We are." He nods to Sara, winking, and starts sauntering into the room, hands behind his back, thoroughly ignoring her, or appearing to.

After a few moments, he hears Sara speak.

"Am I the only one who could really use a drink?" she says, raising her voice just a little and sounding the perfect mix of bored and slightly exasperated.

Len hesitates a bare second, then spins on his heel theatrically and grins at her.

"Ex-cellent idea."

Who is gonna come and turn the tide? What's it gonna take to make a dream survive? Who's got the touch to calm the storm inside? Who's gonna save you?

#time & tide #leonard snart #legends of tomorrow #snart siblings #captain canary

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tennyo-elf · 7 years

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Mass Effect Trilogy Thoughts

I’m ten years late to the party (or 5 years depending on if you start at ME1 or ME3) but I finally finished the Mass Effect Trilogy, thanks to Dragon Age.

Here are my thoughts on the games, the ending, random bits, the romance, etc, etc...

After I played the trilogy I looked around tumblr and found that a lot of people thought the first game was clunky. I, for one, while I know there were kinks (especially regarding dialogue/romance options), loved the first game so much that it’s my favorite of the three games. I played Vanguard and once I got barrier I had so much fun just standing in the middle of fire blasting everything in sight. I hate shooter games because I suck at them, but ME1 allowed me to have fun. The unlimited ammo really was what got me, ‘cause I’m a terrible shot. Of course there was the whole heating thing for your weapon, but I rather have that than, “Oops, out of ammo!”

I didn’t like the battle system for ME2 and the whole working for Cerberus. The characters were pretty awesome, but it took me a bit to learn not to flirt since I wanted to be faithful to Kaidan (I play paragon, so I had to learn to stick to the middle options on the dialogue wheel). ME2 was pretty much my least favorite. I only wish I could have played with Legion more.

ME3 took the best of ME1 and ME2 and made a great game...up until the ending of course. But seriously, ME3 is great and really fun and I loved just going around doing my Biotic Charge/Nova combo. Yeah, let me just charge a Brute or a Banshee that could literally one shot me and then nova/shotgun/charge them to death before they can kill me. That, to me, is seriously fun! Biotic power ftw!

The ending though. That ending...back before I had even heard of Bioware and was vaguely familiar with the name Dragon Age (I had thought to purchase it back in 2009 but went “Nope, I probably won’t like it” - fuck, how wrong I was...) I heard about the notoriously bad ME3 ending. It was all over the place in my geek sphere. So before I played the trilogy I looked up the ending on the wiki and read about it in articles, and I knew I’d hate it. So, since I’m on PC, I looked up some mods. I never met the star child (or whatever) or had to make a choice and I’m grateful for that. (My Shep always survives because I’m a completionist and I always get all war assets thus my end score is well above what’s needed for everyone to survive.)

First I got the regular MEHEM, played the trilogy, and the ending, with this mod, didn’t feel right. It didn’t satisfy me at all. I needed to redo some things to get the ending I wanted (I accidentally killed Steve Cortez in my first pt, fuck that noise) so I played ME3 a second time and used a new ending mod called JAM. That pt went perfectly. The ending seriously made me happy, and if felt so right! The Extended Ending, plus JAM, plus the Leviathan DLC, allowed me to enjoy the trilogy with no tears (besides for Anderson, Thane, Mordin, and Legion). There was only ONE plot hole with this combo.

The catalyst obviously targeted Reaper technology (in this mod/DLC combo), but the Geth and EDI were integrated with Reaper code. So how did they survive? (You know they survived by the ending slides with the Geth and EDI calling for Shepard when the gang went looking for her.) So I have to head canon an extra side quest after Priority: Rannoch, where the Geth and EDI discuss looking for a firewall against the catalyst energies for their built in Reaper code. Maybe they get it from the Keepers on the Citadel or maybe they create one together. Of course there is worry about the Reapers getting hold of this firewall, blah blah blah, but they keep it on the hush and hush and it works out in the end. I had no issues with the destroy ending where the Citadel and the relays go boom, because it made sense to me, I only worried about EDI and the Geth. (I united the Geth with their Creators, I’m not letting them die!) So I head canon the side quest and they’re safe.

There is also the nightmares Shepard has about the boy. I also head canon that when she passes out after Anderson dies, she dreams again, and this time, instead of just standing and watching the boy catch fire, she saves him, she takes action, she stands up for herself and doesn’t let her guilt or fears or worries control her. She wakes with a start (and renewed energy/life) and then activates the Crucible/Catalyst. Perfect ending to me, yes, yes. (Watch here!)

As for the continuation of the series, after playing the trilogy I was disappointed that they didn’t continue the story post war with the reapers. I haven’t played Andromeda yet but I understand it’s in a different Galaxy with different problems and I think that was a missed opportunity on Bioware’s part to explore the other themes/consequences of the first trilogy. There is the dark matter/biotics/eezo/mass effect fields topic to explore as well as the fall out of Shepard’s decisions, such as the Krogan population surge, Geth/Qurian alliance, and the Leviathans. Leviathans indoctrination abilities are very concerning. And granted, Mass Effect 3 did hint that the Krogan and Geth Alliance weren’t a threat, it still wasn’t made certain. Personally I like to be able to have a game where you make sure the Krogans and rachni aren’t a threat based on in-game decisions from both the old and new trilogy. Also, I like the new hero to be able to formalize that the Geth/EDI/new AIs aren’t the threat they were made out to be and we can work together (for Destroy or even control ending, synthesis ending would have to focus on how it didn’t solve the real problems/took away freedom from people). Draw parallels from humans who are evil to AIs who go evil too. And everything leading up to the true threat of Leviathan’s trying to take over again and how the team work of species can over come their old oppressors. Just a trilogy about overcoming old thoughts/beliefs/etc. And it doesn’t have to take place immediately after the reaper war either. It could take place after Shepard’s death or when Shepard is very old and retired. I mean, you could make a game like that, it’d just take finesse because of the way they made ME3′s ending. It’d be tricky with the synthesis ending. but it could happen. A can of worms, yet I truly believe with the five years of development they had they could have written something that may piss off some, but ultimately be a continuation of the interesting galaxy/world the first trilogy created.

Okay, random thought here, but regarding the Asari, wouldn’t be it hard to keep their heads/back of their neck clean? So many places for junk to pile up, cleaning their heads must be a bitch.

Also, this game was annoying with the male gaze, eye candy thing going on. It was everywhere and it never, ever, didn’t annoy the hell out of me. Pulled me out of the story every time I saw it, that’s for sure. I Like Miranda, but with her catsuit you can even see her lips! And I’m not talking about her face lips either!)

Alright, so romances...I went in knowing I was going to romance either Garrus or Kaidan. I didn’t know these characters yet and I saw these two were romanced the most by female Shepards on tumblr, so I figured I couldn’t go wrong with either of them. Playing a paragon Shep, and getting to know Kaidan, the romance for them made sense to me (My Shep is a spacer/war hero). I was highly attracted to his character, morals, and principals. With Garrus, I can see how a renegade Shep would be all over the “fuck rules” bit but with my paragon, if felt more like a mentor/mentee relationship turn best friends type of deal than a romance. Garrus didn’t fit with my Shepard, Liabelle. I did watch a youtube vid of his romance though and he is cute af.

Of course, later, I find out everyone hates Kaidan for Horizon (or being too emotional/whiny...which felt silly to me tbh). I didn’t. Kaidan’s reaction on Horizon made sense for his character and it felt real. My Shep knew Kaidan would react like he did and while it hurt, she didn’t love him less for it. She fell for him for his principals, why would she be upset at Kaidan being Kaidan when it’s Kaidan she fell for? Hurts yes, frustrating yes, but in the end they found their way back to one another and if felt really good. Now I’m a shenko shipper through and through.

Also loyalty to a fault can be a bad thing, sometimes you need a friend who will call you out on your shit. That’s what Kaidan did/does (though he went a bit overboard with the betrayal line, but that’s him reeling and he apologized for it). So nah, I wasn’t mad or disinterested in Kaidan after Horizon or for the beginning of ME3. I liked his character development and him coming to realize he made a mistake. You can see throughout ME3, once he comes back, how he regrets it. Ugh, the well made angst mixed with the happiness of them being back together does things to me.

In the end, Garrus and kaidan were my squad, they were my boys. I think not having Kaidan in ME2 made my dislike for the game more intense because I didn’t have my boys together. I literally shouted “MY BOYS!!” at my screen while playing ME3 when I could pick Kaidan and Garrus for my team again. It probably helped that they balanced out my Vanguard really well.

As for romanced Kaidan head canons, I will say that while they were biotic rabbits between the sheets, they were still touch and go relationship wise for most of ME3. I don’t think they were at a place in their relationship for a real marriage proposal after they find her post destroy. They definitely need time to just be and I can see that happening during leave or working on the Normandy during non war times. My husband is in the military and I asked about what would happen if they were found out and the military does give people options, either break it off or marry. I figure by the time anyone finds out they’re already engaged. That just means postings, they wouldn’t be able to work together on the Normandy. I can’t figure this one out. A part of me sees Shep retiring, another can’t see her as anything but Captain of the Normandy. Kaidan could go back to teaching, and they could meet up on Earth every shore leave Shep has...but, gah, I still haven’t figured it out yet. I do like the idea of them retiring out by Kaidan’s family’s orchard, going camping, or traveling, having kids, etc.

Lastly, the only character I dislike is Kai Leng (too one dimensional and an ass, easy to hate). The rest I will hug if I could. And I was sad I couldn’t have a third squad mate. I’d probably pick Tali mostly with the occasionally Liara or Wrex thrown in with Kaidan and Garrus. Also I have a big soft spot for Samara. I also am weird in shipping Javik and Liara (I want them to have Asari babies!!!!...after writing their book ofc), but I think Joker and EDI are cute af and you can pry that ship from dead, cold hands. Ack, and Thane dying hurt but felt inevitable since he had a terminal illness. Mordin’s death felt a bit unnecessary, he needs to be studying seashells gdi!! ALSO WHY BIOWARE, WHY KILL LEGION, WHY!!! Oh, and Kasumi needs to be able to keep the gray box and move on...humph.

Alright, I may write a small fic for shenko but I might not, IDK yet. All I know is I miss Dragon Age like I’m missing my other heart, so I’m going back to it soon-ish. Will replay this wonderful sci-fi trilogy again though, sometime in the future just not right away. I’ll always prefer my Dragon Age games, but this ride was definitely worth it.

#mass effect #mass effect trilogy #me1 #me2 #me3 #my thoughts on the games #random bits #just things I needed to say #text post #there is shenko here #but no hate #just love #and some complaining #about other stuff #but mostly love #for the games and characters

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natasha-cole · 7 years

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Ready Steady Part 18

This is a mess tbh. I tried.

Summary: Reader and Rob have made their announcement to Rob’s friends. As expected, not everyone is as accepting of the news. Reader finally opens up about her past to Rob and wonders if she can get Briana to change her mind about the situation. Rob has a run-in with a fan that leaves him feeling uncomfortable, and with good reason.

Word Count: 7226

Warnings: fluff, mild smut, discussion of abuse, angst

Note: For the sake of the remainder of the fic, I’m using some old Louden Swain songs and making them new ones. Also, as you can tell, my reader is a singer/songwriter and a country girl at heart… so for her, instead of trying to write my own lyrics, I’m using songs by Miranda Lambert and claiming them as the reader’s own. Hey, this way, you can listen to the actual songs after you read!

Another Note: You thought I’d leave this extra angsty, didnt you? Oh... wait...

Catch up: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

*Look at this cutie!*

You walked back to your room, everything Briana had said still playing in your mind. When you returned to the room that you and Rob shared, you stormed in and immediately began to collect your things. Fighting back tears, you shoved everything back into your luggage. Of course Briana had been right. Obviously you had hurt Rob so much that he hated you, all of his friends were aware of how angry he had been over the way you left him. It only made sense that he was now sticking around because of the baby. You thought back to how upset he had been when he found out how long you had kept your pregnancy from him, it was one disappointment right after the other when it came to you.

You grabbed your bag and headed for the door only to stop yourself short. You were so good at running. That’s what you did. The only problem now was that you remembered how you had run from Chris so many times, only to go back to him out of fear and loneliness. He had always bullied you into staying with him. He had cheated on you and hurt you so much, but you always ended right back where you shouldn’t have been with him. Now, you had to ask yourself why were you constantly running from Rob? You had left him in the first place, only thinking of his safety. You truly didn’t want him involved in your past, and it was all because of your feelings for him. You had a sweet, caring, wonderful man who you felt honestly loved you too. You had to wonder why it was so easy to leave Rob, without the intention of returning; but you constantly put yourself in an unhealthy situation with Chris.

You dropped your bag on the floor and sat down on the edge of the hotel room bed, thinking hard about your actions. Yes, you and Rob had been through a lot of difficult things the past few months. And yes, you couldn’t help but allow Briana’s words to continue to eat at you. The worst of it had been her saying that Rob was sticking around because of the baby. Maybe she was right. Maybe that’s the only reason he was putting up with you. That in itself gave you all the reason you needed to leave again. The big problem was that you also had a history of just running without talking. You knew that your biggest fault was that you had a hard time discussing your fears and thoughts with anyone. This has been your downfall in your relationship with Rob. The only reason any of those difficult times had happened was because you couldn’t just talk to him.

This time, instead of running out, you sat there on the bed; waiting.

It hadn’t been long before you heard someone at the door. You looked up expectantly at the door as Rob walked in, looking flustered. You could see his expression relax once he noticed you sitting there. It wasn’t until he looked around the room, noticing your packed bag sitting in front of you, that his expression returned to frustration.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He knew you too well.

“No,” you replied, glancing up at him.

“Kim said you were upset and that you just left suddenly,” he explained. He looked at you, disappointment evident on his face, “I had to rush here to make sure you…”

“Were still here?” you finished his sentence for him, knowing that he was sure he would get here and find that you were gone again.

“To make sure you were okay,” he corrected you. His eyes shifted back to your packed bag. “Although, maybe I should have been more worried about you leaving again.”

He moved toward you, taking a seat next to you on the bed. He let out a long sigh before speaking again.

“You were gonna leave me again?”

“I thought about it,” you answered honestly.

“Well, what changed your mind?” You could tell he was upset with you.

“You did.”

Rob looked at you, eyes narrowed, questioning you.

“I was gonna bail because of something Briana said. I thought, obviously she’s right. It’s the only thing that makes sense. I was heading for the door… and I just realized why we were even starting over with us in the first place. And I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t do that to you again.”

“What is going on?”

“She said that you had been so angry with me when I left.”

“I was, but that doesn’t mean that I ever stopped loving you.”

“She said she figured you were staying with me this time because of the baby.”

“That’s stupid and you know it. I found you, that night at your show, and I did it because I needed to know why you had left. I needed to know if it was something I could fix. I was going to be with you again before I even knew about the baby.”

“Why though? Why would you want someone who does that? Why would you still want someone who continuously lies to you and breaks your heart?”

“Because I love you.”

“So, you’re not just sticking it out with me because you knocked me up?”

“No,” he answered. He placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze in an attempt to reassure you. “I’m sticking with you because there’s just something about you that I can’t let go of. And Briana shouldn’t have said anything to you. It’s not her place.”

“Thank you.” You placed your hand over his, prompting him to adjust and turn his hand so that he could lace his fingers with yours. “I’m sorry… again.”

Rob leaned in to you, taking your face with his free hand to lead you into a kiss. Your lips met his and you smiled against his mouth, still amazed at how this man made you feel every time he kissed you. You let yourself get lost in the moment, in his lips, the sensation of his beard against your skin. No one had ever made you feel this way and you knew that nothing could keep you away from him. Nothing could ever make you want to run from him again. He was another one of those habits that you were sure that you could never break. Only this time, it wasn’t a bad habit, and it wasn’t fear that would keep you here.

“Talk to me,” he urged you as he ended the kiss. He leaned down to remove his shoes before crawling up on the bed, leaning against the headboard and watching you as if he were waiting for something. You followed suit, removing your own shoes and then following him to where he was. You laid next to him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you nuzzled into his side, desperate for his warmth.

“Are you angry with me again? For possibly almost having walked out again?”

“No. You didn’t walk out. You’re still here and I’m happy about that. Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“What is it that gets you so scared that you feel like you have to bail every time something happens?”

You squirmed against him, suddenly uncomfortable by the topic of discussion. He sensed your anxiety and pulled you closer to him.

“I mean it. I want to know. You don’t talk about things with me, there’s so much that I still don’t know… and we’re having a baby together. I need to know what goes on in your head, maybe then I can stop freaking out every time you do.”

“Rob,” you hesitated. You weren’t sure if you wanted to delve into depths of your own mind to relive your past. Hell, you weren’t sure if the explanations for your behavior were even obvious anymore. There was a reason these things stayed locked up, and there was a reason why you chose to keep them to yourself. “I don’t know why I do the things that I do.”

“Look, I don’t want to stir shit up. I don’t want you to describe anything to me that you’re not comfortable with. All I know is that… I know nothing about your past. I only know a little bit about your last relationship, which I can say with confidence has a lot to do with everything. Sometimes I feel like so much of what we go through can be avoided, by me, if I just understood you a little more.”

You sucked in a breath. He was right. Of course you had reasons behind your behavior, Rob knew some of that. The night that you finally told him that you were pregnant was proof that he knew at least a little bit about your past. You still cringed at the way you had reacted to that argument. Recalling the look on Rob’s face that night when you flinched was enough to make you realize that maybe he did need to know more.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “I want to know all about you because I barely know anything. I feel like I am the only one who has talked about themselves in this entire relationship.”

“There isn’t much else to tell.”

“Tell me about your family. I’ve only ever heard you talk about your grandfather, and even that was pretty vague.”

“Well, my grandpa was an important part of my life. He taught me how to play guitar… with the one that you returned to me.”

“I consider that the lucky guitar. Without it, we may have never met.” Rob said, a smile forming on his face. You smiled too as you replayed the memory in your head. It was true, if you hadn’t left that guitar behind, you may have never met him.

“He was the best guy I ever knew. He taught me about music. He’d play me old country songs and talk about how country music was the best way to feel things.” You began to talk, remembering him and the memories seemed to spill out of you. “There’s a country song for everything; whether you’re sad, or lonely, or in love, or heartbroken, or if you just want to sit back and drink a beer. I only ever got to see him when he’d buy me a plane ticket back to Nashville every now and then. I was pretty young when my parents moved us out to California.”

“He sounds like he was a really great man.”

“He was. He meant a lot to me.”

“Your parents? You’ve only mentioned them once to me,” Rob took advantage of you finally opening up to him, he constantly asked you about your parents, but it was never something that you wanted to talk about. It wasn’t all bad memories, but much of it still hurt.

“My parents are a different story. My dad raised me almost all on his own. My mom left when I was a kid. I just remember her being so angry all the time, she’d yell a lot, mostly at my dad. When I got older, I learned that she had stayed with him as long as she did because they had a kid together. He didn’t talk about it much; but when she did leave, it was because she had felt trapped in her marriage… she felt trapped in being a mother when she didn’t want to be.”

You felt Robs grip on your shoulder tighten as you spoke. The movement somehow made you feel more comfortable; and although you hadn’t meant to, you began to spill even more of your story to him.

“She left and it really was for the best. I mean, dad struggled for sure. He had a tough time raising a girl by the time I became a teenager. And he worked so hard to provide for me.”

“You never talk about him, but it sounds like you at least loved him, like he was a good dad.”

“He really was. I was eighteen when he passed away. He just got real sick one day… and before I knew it, he was gone.” You felt the tears well up in your eyes. It wasn’t something that you really talked about to anyone. Again, they were just memories that you had managed to lock away for years.

“I’m so sorry Y/N…”

“Anyway, I just got stuck in L.A. Not that I’m complaining. I started writing songs and I remember just popping in at open mic nights whenever I could. I just had a lot of songs that were building up in me, and I wanted to get them out. My manager heard me one night at a bar and convinced me to let him make me a star,” you laughed at the memory, “and we worked together… I performed a bit here and there, but eventually I just started getting artists who were hearing my demos and wanted to record my songs themselves. At first, I wasn’t having any of that. I wanted to be a singer, I really did.”

“Why didn’t you just keep doing it then? What happened to make you give that up?”

“I met Chris,” you felt yourself cringe as a flood of memories filled your mind, “I fell in love with him, he was my first boyfriend, and… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t talk about him…”

“Tell me, I want to know.”

“He wasn’t always all bad, not at first. After a couple of years, things changed though. He started telling me to give up on trying to be a singer, that it wasn’t going to happen. He was the one to convince me to just write songs and sell them to other singers, because I just wasn’t that that good. And I loved him and I thought that he loved me, so why would he lie to me? So that’s what I did. I wrote my feelings down on paper, wrote the music to go with the words, and handed those little pieces of me to other people so that they could make money off of them. It’s actually kind of sad when I think about it now.” You paused for a moment, running your hand along Rob’s chest as you became lost in the thoughts of Chris. “The abuse… I couldn’t tell you when that even started because I never looked at it as abuse until right near the end. But, I think back now and I realize how terrible he was to me. He liked to put me down, call me names… sometimes I think that the way he spoke to me hurt way more than the times he hit me. I always say, the bruises and the pain fade away… but I guess the words stick around for much longer.”

“Jesus, Y/N…” you could tell he was struggling to find the right words to say. This was why you didn’t talk about your past, it was often just something that put others in an awkward situation of knowing about you and not being able to react properly.

“The shitty thing is, I left that man so many times. Usually when he’d hit me or grab me by the throat, I’d just up and leave. He scared me so much. But he always had a way of, I guess, scaring me into going back to him, convincing me that I couldn’t do any better than him… and it would always just be the same. I guess that’s why I’m so good at running, I’m just not very good at staying away.”

“I-I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to come back to me…” You looked up into Rob’s eyes as he spoke, a hint of pain in his eyes. You realized that he felt bad about having tracked you down to talk to you, confront you for leaving him. But this was all very different. Looking for someone because you love them and miss them is a far cry from bullying someone into coming back to you.

“Rob, stop. For the first time in my life; I had someone who chased me for all the right reasons. You came back for me despite how messed up I am. And I wanted to come back. I never wanted to leave in the first place, I just felt that I had to. But, I saw you that night; and you kissed me… and for once, I just felt… safe.”

“You didn’t feel safe with how angry I got when you finally told me that you were pregnant. I still can’t forget that, and I still feel so horrible for scaring you.” He was still blaming himself for you flinching during your argument. You couldn’t help but bad that you actually reacted that way with him, and you had to let him know that it wasn’t his fault.

“I just… I spent a lot of years learning how to brace myself for arguments that never ended well. I understand that, in relationships, we’re not going to agree all the time and we’re gonna have arguments… that’s normal. But, for me, arguments just never ended in my favor. I can’t tell you how many times I thought I my head that nothing was going to happen that night. I knew that I was still safe with you, I knew you weren’t going to hurt me… it was just a reaction. It was just something that I became so used to doing, and I didn’t know how to react with someone new.”

“I’m just… I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of that.”

“The worst part of it was choosing to leave you when I felt afraid of what Chris could do. You have to know, I never wanted that, ever. It killed me to walk away from you. For all that time that we were away from each other, I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped missing you. That… that was the worst pain I’ve ever felt. And then, I found out that I was pregnant… there were so many times that I wanted to call you. But, I was trying to keep you out of messy life and I knew that if I heard your voice, I would just lose it.” You were sobbing openly now as the words left your mouth. “I was more scared during that time than I had ever been before.”

You felt something like a mixture of relief and fear overcome you. This had been the first time you had ever been so open with Rob. In all of the months that you had known him, you hadn’t ever told him most of this. He knew bits and pieces about your life, but even though you knew you were in love with him, you had never felt safe enough to trust him with your past. The fear came from not being sure how he would react. The relief was your realization that for once in your life, you really did feel safe.

“Y/N, thank you.” You looked up at him, eyes still wet with tears, wondering why he was thanking you right now.

“For what?” you sniffled.

“For trusting me enough to talk about these things.” He brought a hand up to your face and ran it across your cheek, wiping away the tears that had gathered there. “I love you so much. I knew I was going to love you the moment that you took my hand when I helped you up off that floor in Nashville. The second I looked you in the eyes, I just knew I was done for.”

You fought back a laugh, “I wondered if I’d see those pretty blue eyes again.”

“And you did because something kept putting us in the way of each other that whole weekend.”

“Rich?” You suggested, remembering how the man happened to be there constantly each time you and Rob found each other again.

Rob laughed hard, “Maybe not so much Rich… I was gonna say fate, but that sounds kinda corny now.”

You watched him, entranced by his laughter. You studied the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled, and you couldn’t help but reach a hand up to let your fingertips play in that cute gray patch of his beard. He watched you affectionately as you did so, his own hand now tracing along your arm.

“We could call it that… fate. I like it, no matter how corny it sounds.”

He leaned down to kiss you again and you sighed into his lips. It really did feel better having him know all of this. No matter how scary it was to open up for the first time in your life, you couldn’t help but feel relieved right now. Mostly because Rob wasn’t bailing on you, he wasn’t judging you, he was still in love with you.

“Look,” he started, “I’m gonna talk to Briana, let her know that she was out of line.”

“You don’t have to do that, she’s your friend and she’s only looking out for you.”

“I know, but she needs to understand that this is our life,” he explained, motioning between the two of you, “and there are just certain things that she doesn’t know about us.”

You thought hard for a moment, realizing that there was a lot that none of his friends understood. If anything, Kim knew you and your situation better than even Rob did. The idea of family had been somewhat of a foreign concept to you in the last decade of your life, and you understood that these friends that Rob had gained through his band and these conventions were basically family to him. You also remembered that, because of this baby, you were also Rob’s family. The two of you were starting your own little family together, and in turn, that meant Rob’s extended family would also be your own. Maybe it was time to start acting like a family.

“You know Rob,” you thought out loud, still resting against his chest, “why don’t you let me talk to her? She obviously thinks I’m trying to trap you in a relationship with me, she’ll only think that you’re just sticking up for me.”

“I don’t expect you to do that.”

You nodded, indicating that you understood. “I know you don’t, but it actually felt really good to talk about all of that. It makes me feel… I don’t know… closer to you. Might be good for my relationships with your friends to open up a bit more.”

Rob moved his arm from around you, scooting down to lay on the pillow so that he was at eye-level with you. You both laid there for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes. He only spoke when he reached up to move a strand of hair from your face.

“You’re pretty amazing, do you know that?”

You felt your face turn red, still finding yourself embarrassed each time he complimented you.

“No, I’m really not…”

He moved his face in closer to yours, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. “You’re amazing,” he moved to kiss your cheek, “you’re beautiful,” this time he placed a kiss to your forehead. You were giggling now as he peppered your face with kisses. “You’re strong,” he kissed you at the corner of your mouth, “you’re talented,” he moved to the other side of your mouth, “and you’re going to be such an amazing mother.” This time, he ghosted his lips above yours for a moment, causing you to beg him to finally kiss you. He did as you asked, lips gently colliding with yours.

It was a sweet kiss up until he decided to bite at your lip before swiping his tongue along it. You had meant to let out a sigh, but it came out as a moan. You watched him raise a brow before he moved on top of you, pushing you back gently against the bed.

“You have no idea what you do to me Y/N.” he whispered before his lips crashed into yours again. He worked his way between your legs so that you could feel the bulge in his jeans push against your core. You squirmed beneath him, suddenly aching for him. The two of you hadn’t been intimate in some time, considering how sick you had been. You didn’t realize how much you wanted him until this moment. You moaned louder as he pressed against you again.

“Rob…” you breathed out, unable to form a coherent sentence. He grinned at you before moving to your neck where he nipped and sucked at your skin.

“Please…” you begged, not really sure what it was you were begging for. You only knew that you needed more of him. Your pleads seemed to have a strong effect on him because he stilled his movements and leaned up on his elbows to stare down at you. You let him take you in, still aching for him. But he only watched you with an expression that you hadn’t ever seen in anyone else who ever looked at you. You waited, wondering what it was that he was thinking right now. Your heartbeat began to slow down and your breathing began to steady. You wanted him to finish what he had started, so you carefully arched up against him. He closed his eyes, mouth falling open in a low moan at the friction.

You grinned playfully up at him, carding your hands through his hair. He looked back down at you before he moved in for another kiss and began to make his way down your neck again.

“I’m so lucky,” he muttered against your skin, “I’m so lucky to have you.” You smiled to yourself as he continued to work at your skin, still grinding against you.

You thought for a moment about those words. Rob had talked about fate and luck tonight, things that you weren’t sure you ever believed in. But right now, having him in this way, even after everything… you couldn’t help but agree with his sentiments. Maybe you and he had found each other because it was just fate. Maybe luck was finally on your side when it came to love.

“I’m lucky too,” you said out loud.

The first day of the convention meant that Rob’s real work for the weekend had begun. You woke early with him, getting ready for the day together, and followed him down to the convention area. You knew day one was when Kim and Briana had their panel, which meant Briana would be fairly easy to run into at some point today. You couldn’t help but to feel nervous, knowing that you had some things to explain to her. At this point, It wasn’t about trying to convince her to accept you or even believe you; now, it was about making her realize that she had to come to terms with your relationship with Rob and the fact that the two of you were having a child together. The last thing you wanted was for Rob’s friends to doubt you or your relationship.

You found yourself waiting in the greenroom again, watching as people trickled into the room to start the day. You sat on the couch as Rob conversed with the band and Rich about the schedule for the day. You sipped on your tea that Rob had brought to you when you mentioned that you had woken up with a bit of a queasy stomach. Eventually, Rob approached you to let you know that the band was heading to the theater to rehearse, giving you a kiss before he did so.

Now, you waited anxiously, watching the doors hoping that Briana would walk in soon. Still sipping your tea, you thought about what you would say to her and how you would say it.

It seemed like forever before she and Kim finally entered the room. You sat up straight, now feeling nervous. Kim was the first to notice you sitting there. She shot you a smile and made her way towards you, Briana following with an unamused look on her face.

“Hey girl,” Kim beamed at you, “you doing okay? You look a little pale…”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, taking another drink of your tea, “just woke up with the damn morning sickness again.”

Kim scrunched her face up, “Rob said it had been pretty bad… do you need anything?”

“Nope, I got my tea. Should be okay,” you said, holding up your cup. You looked past Kim to Briana, “Hey Bri…” you spoke carefully, knowing that she was obviously still not impressed by you. She only nodded her head toward you, making sure her eyes didn’t meet yours.

You sighed in frustration. You really didn’t want to do this, but you couldn’t go through this relationship with Rob knowing that one of his best friends hated you and didn’t understand your situation.

“Can I talk to you?” you asked, still staring her down. She looked up at you quizzically.

“Me?”

“Yes, I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything to talk about Y/N.” Briana moved as if she were prepared to walk away from you, which prompted Kim to grab her by the arm.

“Just listen to her,” Kim said softly, urging Briana to stay.

“Fine,” she replied. She moved slowly to sit on the couch, making sure she stayed a good few feet away from you.

“You can stay too Kim,” you said, giving her permission to join in on the conversation. Kim sat next to you, taking your hand in hers and giving it a squeeze, seemingly encouraging you.

“What’s up?” Briana asked nonchalantly. You could tell she didn’t want to be there, so you made quick work of talking.

“Look, I know you’re less than impressed by this whole situation that I put Rob through. And I know that you are really put off by us having a baby,” you watched her face as you began your explanation. She didn’t respond, so you continued.

“You need to know, that I love Rob. I love him so much that I left him the way that I did because I was trying to protect him.”

Briana whipped her head up at you, “What do you mean you were protecting him? How do you think that treating someone like that is for their own benefit?”

“My ex… you have to know that I had just come out of a relationship right before I met Rob. I thought everything would be okay. But my ex had a hard time accepting the fact that I was done. He started threatening me. Eventually, he found out about Rob, and started threatening him too.” You stopped, feeling overwhelmed again as you began to relive the whole story. Kim squeezed your hand again.

“He was a terrible person. I lived through so much with him… he abused me, and when he left me, I was finally free. I met Rob and I had never had anyone treat me so well before. I thought we could just be together and be happy. For once in my life, I thought I could be happy. But, my ex kept calling me, texting me, harassing me… I talked to Kim, because she overheard a phone call, and Kim helped me figure out how to get a restraining order.”

Briana’s attention shifted to Kim who still sat there silently, nodding to indicate that you were in fact telling the truth.

“I went to Rob’s show when I got back to L.A. and my ex had someone follow me there. This person let me know that Chris knew where I was and who I was with. I panicked. I knew what Chris was capable of, and I didn’t want Rob mixed up in all of that. So I just ran, I didn’t know what else to do. I spent months in pain because of what I had done. I never stopped loving him.”

“You got a restraining order though…” Briana finally added to the conversation.

“Not until after I left Rob. Even then I knew he wasn’t safe. I knew I still wasn’t completely safe. Rob found me at a show I did months later and confronted me. I still loved him, and we just… we just ended up back together.”

“And the baby? When did you know about this?”

You sucked in a breath, ready to relive an even more painful memory, “That was a mess. I found out weeks before my show. I kept it from him for a long time. I finally told him that night after my show. After that, things were really iffy there between us. I have a bad habit of keeping important things to myself. I shouldn’t have kept that from him… but we’ve moved past all of that. After I was in the hospital, he just… he forgave me. I know I didn’t deserve forgiveness, but he loves me, and he was willing to move past all of that. I hope you can too.”

“You were in the hospital?” She gave you a worried look. There was the Briana you remembered. The one who encouraged you to spend time with Rob, give him a chance.

“I was just really sick from this pregnancy. Had to be on IVs and stuff. I feel like it’s getting better though.”

“That’s good.”

“That’s why Rob missed the last convention. I was sick and he stayed to take care of me, even though he was still obviously upset with me.”

“He really does love you,” Briana said, “even when he talked about how angry he was at you, I could tell he was just devastated because he loves you so much.”

“I never wanted to hurt him. In my mind, it was a decision I had to make… either I hurt him or go on wondering if Chris would do something.”

“And he’s out of the picture now?” she asked referring to Chris.

“It’s been months since the restraining order came into action, and I haven’t heard a thing from him.” Saying the words out loud, realizing that you truly had gotten him out of your life, only made you feel better. It had been a difficult time, but in the end, the court dates and having to face him again really had paid off.

“Good, I’m glad.” Briana said earnestly. She looked at you with a small smile. “Y/N, I’m sorry. Rob’s one of my best friends, and I just felt like you screwed him over and then reeled him back in with the fact that you were pregnant. I didn’t know the circumstances, and maybe I should have learned that before I treated you like crap.”

“It’s okay, I get it. Rob’s so wonderful, and you are all such a close family… I couldn’t expect any of you to be okay with all of this,” you placed your hand on your belly.

“Just so you know, you’re a lucky girl,” Briana continued, watching you as you rubbed circles on your stomach, “Rob’s going to be the best dad, I just know it.”

You smiled at her, “I know he is. He and I have been through a lot, I’ve put him through a lot… so I know just how lucky I am to still have him.”

“Okay, are we past all of this now?” cut in Kim who had grown impatient with Briana’s treatment of you, “Like, can we just all be happy for Y/N and Rob finally?” she questioned Briana who only chuckled.

“Yeah, we can all be happy for them now,” she said as she shook her head.

“See, Y/N?” Kim turned to you, “All you have to do is understand that you can talk to any of us about anything.”

“I know, and I’m getting better about it. I just… I don’t have family anymore, sometimes I forget how to act around one.”

“You do have a family,” Briana added. She had now moved closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a hug. You felt your heart swell and the tears threatened to escape again. “You and Rob are starting yours… And you have the rest of us assholes that you have to accept as your new family, whether you like it or not.”

You laughed, beginning to sniffle at the overwhelming emotions you were feeling. It may not be a traditional family, but you realized that it was going to be all you needed. These people were going to be your family, and you couldn’t be happier about it.

You laid on the bed in you and Rob’s room that night. You had left the convention early while the cast hung out for autographs. Autographs were tedious, but you loved the way each of the actors took the time to talk to and interact with their fans. For you though, you couldn’t bear to hang around and watch. You had left Rob’s side while he sat down at his table, letting him know that you were just ready for bed. That had been a couple of hours ago.

You were unable to fall asleep though, only now realizing how difficult it was to not have Rob at your side. So, you waited for him.

You sat up in the bed expectantly when you heard someone fumbling with the door. Rob entered, looking exhausted.

“Hey, I thought you were going to sleep,” he said as he worked at removing his shoes.

“I was, but I couldn’t sleep without you here.”

He smiled at you, now shuffling through his luggage.

“Aw, you missed me?” he mused as he began to undress and change into pajamas. He finished changing and joined you in bed, snuggling up against you.

“How did everything go?” you asked.

“Good, I’m just beat,” he ran a hand through your hair and kissed you. “I had a weird experience with a fan though on my way back to the room. Wasn’t even during the convention.”

“Oh yeah? Don’t weird fan experiences happen a lot though?” you asked.

“Sometimes, but this one was extra weird.”

“What happened?” your curiosity was peaked now.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…” he replied. His demeanor suddenly changed. He seemed to be put off completely by whatever had happened.

“Why would I be uncomfortable?”

“Because, this guy approached me downstairs. He seemed nice enough; wanted a picture, told me he loved my band…” Rob trailed off, now staring up at the ceiling.

“Is that bad?”

“No, but then he started talking about… you.” Rob’s eyes found yours again. “He brought you up. Kept saying how lucky I was to be with you. I swear, this guy was a bigger fan of yours than he was of mine.”

“I didn’t realize I had fans,” you giggled. You found it sort of sweet that someone even knew who you were and was actually a fan of your work.

“Yeah, I was mostly interested in the fact that he knew you were my girlfriend.”

“There were pictures of us from Nashville,” you explained, “and I’m sure people noticed when we kissed at your show.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, still seeming a bit uncomfortable.

He remained silent for a moment, as if he were planning his next words carefully.

“The really weird thing…” he finally said, “was that he congratulated me on the baby.”

Your head shot up at his words, “I didn’t realize people knew about it,” you said. You gave him a questioning stare. You had just barely announced your pregnancy to Rob’s closest friends. You couldn’t imagine that any of them would go out and announce it to anyone else. You wondered if your bump was really that noticeable.

“Yeah, me neither. Which is why it was weird,” you rested your head back on his chest as he played with your hair.

“Well, I guess people are going to know eventually,” you said, trying to figure out how this random guy knew.

“I just don’t feel like this guy was even a fan of mine. I mean, he obviously wasn’t here for the convention. He didn’t have a lanyard or wristband of anything. It was just… like he found me downstairs to talk about you.”

You chuckled again, “Fans do crazy things sometimes.”

“I guess you’re right,” Rob said after a moment. You moved closer to him, burying your face into his chest, just happy that he was there with you. Rob moved slightly, reaching for his phone next to him on the bed. “Just gotta check in with Twitter real quick,” he explained, “let the fans know that we had a great first day.”

You watched him as he typed quickly on his phone, sending out a tweet to his fans. It was something that he usually did, and you liked that he was so considerate of the people who came out to see him and his fellow Supernatural friends. He scrolled through his Twitter and you laid back down on his chest, closing your eyes as you realized how tired you were. Just as you felt yourself begin to drift off, Rob nudged you, startling you from your almost sleep.

“What?” you asked groggily.

“That guy I told you about… he tweeted the picture of us.”

“Oh?” you asked, feeling curious as to who your mystery fan was.

“Yeah, he just tagged me in it…” Rob fell silent for a second, “and he tagged you too.” You looked up at Rob who now had a look of confusion on his face. It was one thing to tag the celebrity in a photo that you took with them, it was quite another to tag said celebrity’s girlfriend in to too.

“Really? I don’t even look at my social media.” You reached up to pull Rob’s phone down to your eye-level. “I want to see who my number one fan is,” you said.

Rob tilted the screen so you could see the picture. The smile you had been wearing over the fact that you had such an enthusiastic fan quickly faded when your eyes adjusted to the bright screen. It couldn’t be. You felt your chest tighten and your heartbeat pick up. There was a knot forming in the back of your throat.

“Rob…” you choked out as tears began to fill your eyes, “no…”

Rob looked at you, worry evident on his face, “what Y/N?”

“Rob, that’s… that’s him,” you began to cry freely now. You head began to spin, nausea creeping up on you again.

Rob’s face paled at your words. He pulled the phone away from you, bringing it back to his line of vision to look at it again.

“Th-that’s Chris,” you stuttered out, not believing the words that were coming out of your own mouth.

“Are you serious?” he asked you, voice rising slightly. His expression was no longer that of shock. Now, he was angry.

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#rob benedict fan fiction #rob benedict x reader #ready steady

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thelastofthecrazypeople · 7 years

Text

After having jumped directly from ME1 into ME2 I had some feels about my Shepard and Kaidan and I needed to put them somewhere, so here we are.

I’m gonna tag @pineapplemountain because they said they might want to read it. Everyone else is also invited to read it of course.

The truth is I'm too tired to play pretend

I never thought coming back to life would be like this. Then again, I never really thought about what being reborn might be like before now, you know.

On the other hand, I also didn’t picture dying like this. Floating out in space, the wreck of my ship – my home – in front of me, terrified and alone.

And then nothing for a long while.

Until I woke up – I woke up from death – terrified and disoriented, with strangers looming over me, just to be put back to sleep and woken up again with sirens blaring in my ears.

This part though, was the easiest of them all. Snapping back into action, arming myself and moving through a foreign base while taking out things out to harm me, was more a reflex than a conscious action, something I’d done so many times before that I clicked into it seamlessly.

It didn’t leave me time to think about, well anything, either. That would come later, after fighting through the shooting mechs and meeting Jacob and Miranda. After my first meeting with the Illusive Man.

The foolish thing was that for a moment - a brief second - when I stepped foot into the new Normandy and greeted Joker and hadn’t really had time to process anything; a small part of me thought, hoped that it could be like before.

I could gather my old crew together, as much of it as was still alive.

I could finally see Kaidan again. That thought - finding Kaidan, making sure he was alright with my own eyes - stole my breath for a tic and almost blinded me with want, before I could remind myself that more important things were at stake.

Duty comes first - the golden rule of any good soldier. The word of the Illusive Man that Kaidan - any of my crew really - was alive and well would have to be enough until I had taken care of some of the more imminently pressing matters.

Of course, hoping things would return to the way they were was a foolish thought to have. As much as I declined working for Cerberus, I was still to some extent a part of them. I still used their resources and their money and their people to further the mission. I still owed them my life.

And a big part of me knew that that was something Kaidan could never forgive. Not after what we’d seen them do. Not after what we’d fought against.

Settling into the Normandy was strange and uncomfortable.

I can’t count how many times I walked into Miranda’s office deep in thought and ready to sit down at my desk, before seeing her face and remembering that this wasn’t my office anymore. She took it gracefully, let me fumble through an excuse or a hastily thought of question before allowing me to excuse myself.

How often I almost reflexively walked to the space where Kaidan’s workstation used to be just to find myself faced with the kitchen and a puzzled cook.

It was disorienting in a way how the ship was familiar and just different enough to make me feel vertigo whenever I searched for the stairs up to the CIC, just to find myself facing the observation deck and remembering that the stairs are no longer part of this ship – were never part of this ship.

It’s the same with the crew in a way, people manning stations I expect somebody else to stand behind leaving me distracted and disoriented.

Of course I put effort into getting to know my new crew, I’m still the CO of this ship.

Their lives are still mine to protect.

It is still my duty to support them in any way I can.

And me knowing my team, knowing what makes them tick and where their strengths and weaknesses lie, what their hopes and dreams are is still the most integral part of securing the success of our mission.

Yet it still feels lonely sometimes - with things so achingly familiar and yet so foreign.

Then there’s Garrus. Where I spent two years healing, my body knitting itself back together, he had time to grieve and to try to cut out a new living for himself. He - like this ship - is the same and yet changed.

Of course he is; I wouldn’t blame him if I could and I hardly can. But his presence is a strange reminder of everything we were and everything we could have been. It feels like we are both walking wounded and neither really knows how to help the other but damn are we trying.

Things look up for a bit, we recruit talented new people and I can feel the crew - myself included - growing closer. I feel like I’m making progress.

I don’t stumble into Miranda’s office quite as often or startle the cook by searching for a workstation that has never been there. I use my cabin more, even if I still don’t like how it isolates me from the crew just by being too far out of the way of everyone else.

I can feel myself getting back into the rhythm of an active ship.

I can feel myself adjust to new routines.

And then Horizon happens.

The whole mission is a clusterfuck of immeasurable dimension and yet at the end of it, after living through it all, the biggest hit lands.

After every way I tried and failed to find him, Kaidan Alenko walks right up to me.

That hug was the best thing in a while, even sweaty and bloodstained and exhausted as I was after that battle.

Maybe especially after that battle.

But I let my guard down too soon. I should have known Kaidan wouldn’t take my alliance - however tentative - with Cerberus lightly. And I did know. The logical part of me knew all along that he wouldn’t be okay with it. Even if we saved him and as many colonists as we could - not enough by any margin.

Even if he still loved me.

But my heart - foolish as it was - yearned for him with a wordless hunger and it hoped without hope.

I wasn’t prepared for his words. I’m ashamed to admit that I took them badly, replied angrier than I wanted to instead of explaining calmly, trying to make him understand why I did what I did. Why I had to do what I had done. Why he could still trust me and believe that I was the same Shepard he knew before, not some cruel copy.

In the shuttle back to the Normandy, his words still reverberated through my brain. I was sure it would be the last thing I ever heard from Kaidan.

I spent hours that night tossing and turning, mourning something that had barely begun to be; a promise given before a suicidal mission, a light to cling to in dark times.

Our time together haunted me worse than before I’d seen him. Not just that night before Ilos; we had been friends long before starting to become something else. The silent conversations, knowing looks and easy silences left just as big a hole as the physicality of our night together. Maybe even a bigger hole.

Morning arrives too soon and not soon enough and I revel the fact that I have to get up and face the day as much as I curse it.

I’m well into my daily routine when Kelly Chambers notifies me of a received message. I get until the word “sorry” before I have to log out of the message and excuse myself from the CIC. I practically flee into the elevator and for once I’m actually grateful for the fact that my quarters are well away from everyone else.

The message is like a punch in the gut - even just those first few words: “Shepard, I’m sorry”

The fact that my crew doesn’t see me like this - ragged and barely keeping it together, blinking away tears - is a godsend right now.

They don’t deserve a commanding officer like that. They deserve a CO that is level-headed and calm not crumbling at the edges.

I make sure to seal my quarters after entering them – I don’t want any of them accidentally walking in on me like this.

I hesitate before walking to my desk and the private terminal set up on it, try to take steadying breaths, to steel myself for whatever else the message might entail.

Part of me wants to delete it unread and unseen, run from everything it could mean for me and him.

Part of me wants to desperately cling to every single thing still connecting me to the man I love.

In the end, I can’t quite bring myself to stay away, so I sit down and open the message to read what else Kaidan has to say:

“Shepard, I’m sorry for what I said back on Horizon. I spent two years pulling myself back together after you went down with the Normandy. It took me a long time to get over my guilt for surviving and move on. I’d finally let my friends talk me into going out for drinks with a doctor on the Citadel. Nothing serious, but trying to let myself have a life again, you know? Then I saw you, and everything pulled hard to port. You were standing in front of me, but you were with Cerberus. I guess I really don’t know who either of us is anymore. Do you even remember that night before Ilos? That night meant everything to me… maybe it meant as much to you. But a lot has changed in the last two years and I can’t just put that aside. But please be careful. I’ve watched too many people close to me die – on Eden Prime, on Virmire, on Horizon, on the Normandy. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you again. If you’re still the man I remember I know you’ll find a way to stop these Collector attacks. But Cerberus is too dangerous to be trusted. Watch yourself. When things settle down a little… maybe… I don’t know. Just take care. –Kaidan“

All the air in my lungs rushes out of me with that last line. It’s too vague and too full of maybes and just hopeful enough to hurt like a dagger buried between my ribs. My next inhale shudders through my lips and I can feel the tears I’ve been holding back dislodging without my permission.

For a while I stare at the screen blindly, still trying to comprehend what this means for me. What it means for us.

But answers aren’t forthcoming – the screen gives me nothing more than what I already know and so I turn away from it – my gaze gliding half-heartedly over the model ships over my desk, the armour locker next to my bed, before coming to a halt on the fish tank.

The deep blue of the water and the movements of the fish inside have always calmed me down, helped me ground myself and I hope they will do the same for me this time around as well.

I don’t know how long it has been since I fled the CIC, how long I’ve been staring at the fish – just that I’m not crying anymore and the dutiful part of my mind has been screaming at me to get up and go back to work for a while.

Usually I’m unable to turn that part of, ticking away inside of me, aware of every minute, every second and how I could make more of it.

Usually it’s one of my favourite parts of myself, constantly driving me to be better, to do more.

Usually I’m not drowning in my own feelings with a suicidal mission looming ahead.

Usually I’m not playing with the idea that dying for real might not be such a bad thing this time.

Now it’s just an empty howl in the back of my mind – overshadowed with by a lethargic detachment in the rest of my body.

It’s not until EDI chirps in her corner and informs me – with more tact and professionalism I’d expect from an AI – that my presence is required in the CIC, that I finally gather myself enough to get up.

“I’ll be down shortly” I reassure her, before turning to my bathroom to splash some water in my face. It’s bad enough that I just abandoned them in the middle of the day – my crew doesn’t have to know how emotional this whole thing has made me.

I take care to rinse my face thoroughly, hiding any evidence of ever having cried – carefully putting myself back together as I work with methodical, precise movements. Once the person staring back at me from the mirror looks suitably presentable - looks mostly like myself – I straighten out my uniform one last time before heading back to the bridge.

I still feel like there’s a hole in my stomach, threatening to swallow me whole – but right now is not the time to indulge in it.

My crew needs me.

And I will be there for them.

#mass effect #Mass Effect 2 #ME2 #mshenko #paragon shepard #fanfiction #I had to put my feels somewhere and here we are #long post

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reactingtosomething · 7 years

Text

Reacting to Grey’s Anatomy (Part 1 of ?)

“Why Do We _____, Dr. ____?”

The Setup: Kris’s writing teacher doesn’t watch more than one season of most TV shows in real-time, so that she can keep up with the big picture of the industry, but she does stay current on Grey’s Anatomy. She was annoyed with the structure of the season 13 finale, so it was homework for Kris’s class. Marchae and Miri have wanted Kris to react to Grey’s for a long time -- this was actually, indirectly, part of the origin story for Reacting to Something -- and Kris didn’t want to jump in TOTALLY blind so he figured he could just watch a handful of earlier episodes to ease in. Silly boy.

KRIS: So I have now seen the nine episodes of season 1, plus episodes 1-5 and the “code black” two-parter of season 2

And the most recent season finale, because [Writing Teacher] told us to watch it

MARCHAE: You nailed the rewatch!

KRIS: And in freshman year of college I saw a few scattered episodes of whatever season fall 2005 was

or maybe sophomore year?

MARCHAE: And to be transparent I am two-ish seasons behind

KRIS: Did you watch the last finale?

MARCHAE: No but I knew most of the players in this episode

Of the recent season I watched more episode from where I was in season 12

But am committed to finishing and being caught up after this season

KRIS: OK I guess we shouldn’t talk about that one then

But I do have some Opinions about the earlier stuff I’ve watched

MARCHAE: Oh I will watch as we text!!

So I do want to know what you think of the show in general

I've wanted your opinion for a long time now

KRIS: It’s hard for me not to compare it to early ER, which was one of my first major TV obsessions (I watched those seasons in syndication when I was in high school)

I low-key refused to watch House or Grey’s when I first learned about them after moving back to the US after high school in Europe, because I was like “why do these need to exist if ER is still on the air?”

(And if anyone does want to seek out those early ER seasons I think they probably hold up surprisingly well)

It has Young George Clooney!

And when I did eventually watch House I loved the first 3 - 5ish seasons

MIRI: Moment to remind us all that Lin-Manuel Miranda had a significant arc on a late season of House. I have nothing substantial to say about it right now, but I think we all collectively forget about that fact most of the time and we should be reminded.

MARCHAE: Yeah I think she talks about ER in one the master class episodes

She=Shonda Rhimes, whose online Master Class Marchae is taking

And house is awesome

KRIS: But all that said, I do like what I’ve seen and will probably very slowly make my way through 12 more years worth of it

MIRI: VICTORY!!!!

MARCHAE: Yessss

KRIS: VERY slowly

Like that’s a lot of TV

MARCHAE: Ohhhhhh come onnnn

It's only taken me four years to get where I am you can do it!!!

KRIS: I feel like it might be a little hard for me to binge because there are some stylistic things that annoy me

MARCHAE: Tell me!!!!

KRIS: Four needle drops an episode

is a lot

I’m also not sure the voiceover is really doing enough to justify itself?

MARCHAE: That's often my critique is how are these people doctors

KRIS: I feel like you can have all those needle drops OR you can have heavy-handed VO but both is too much

Do we need to define needle drop for our readers, you think?

MARCHAE: Perhaps I was looking for a good link

That explains to put here but can't find one

KRIS: So a needle drop is when a show plays non-diegetic (usually) pop music that they have to license, as opposed to an instrumental score composed for the show

And diegetic means sound that comes from the action that’s happening onscreen, or off-screen but still in the world of the scene/story--dialogue, sounds from the environment, anything that the characters are hearing too.

And it’s not an unusual thing at all

But I feel like Grey’s does SO MANY songs

And I’m vaguely aware that a fair number of singer-songwriter type artists were first “discovered” by a lot of fans through Grey’s, like maybe Ingrid Michaelson

MARCHAE: They do and they even have an album, I think there have even been interviews with Shonda Rhimes (SR)

She says she wanted music to be just as much a character as the people

Which I find interesting thematically

KRIS: I get that theoretically, but it’s one of those things that’s the hard opposite of Show, Don’t Tell

when it’s lyrics

And especially for a show with bookend voiceover to tell you exactly What An Episode Is About, it’s just... it’s a lot

MIRI: I CANNOT WAIT for Kris to get to the musical episode, which is both amazing and so on the nose it hurts at multiple points.

MARCHAE: That's so interesting considering your like of shows like CEG which is quite musical

KRIS: I actually do like voiceover when it’s used well throughout a thing (thinking Burn Notice, or Dead Like Me)

MARCHAE: Did you watch sex and the city

KRIS: But in Crazy Ex the music is dialogue, it’s written by the writers and it’s spoken by the characters, it’s not a third party thing

I’ve seen a little

I guess I’m also just curious about the choice only to use voiceover at the beginning and end

although I think maybe it was there throughout the pilot episode

MARCHAE: Yeah I was about to say there may have been a few where it's through out

KRIS: In the pilot there was this conceit that at least some of the VO was addressed to Meredith’s mom

But other times (most times?) Meredith is clearly addressing the viewer

MARCHAE: I think it's to keep reminding us that this is Merediths world

KRIS: Meredith is interesting

Which I realize is super vague

MARCHAE: That's my theory or has been at least since the beginning

KRIS: But I’m having trouble landing on really clear descriptors for her

I like her

I think Ellen Pompeo is good

MARCHAE: I have a few but I'll wait

KRIS: But she’s harder for me to pin down than Izzy or Cristina or George

MARCHAE: Ellen Pompeo is AMAZING

KRIS: And I think maybe this is deliberate?

But again the VO would make that a strange choice

MARCHAE: I Honestly think she's supposed to be

KRIS: But I do sort of like the idea that she keeps a lot to herself

I think she’s a pretty good example of a lead who has to ground the more eccentric performances of the rest of the ensemble

MARCHAE: She does-ish it's weird I love and hate her simultaneously and that's what I love about her

KRIS: At least in these earlier seasons

MARCHAE: I think she does also as the show progresses you're right on

KRIS: Then again I did just watch the Pick Me Choose Me Love Me speech

Which is as demonstrative as anything the others do

But still there’s a restraint in how she generally presents herself to the rest of the world that I identify with

I guess what I’m having trouble figuring out with her is what her fundamental drive is

MIRI: I would argue that this is because Meredith’s fundamental drive is a quest to understand and accept herself, which is a tough main character to pull off and it works better in some stretches than others. But overall I am really pleased with Grey’s willingness to let her flounder and be wrong sometimes.

Also I would not have called Kris identifying with Mer but it makes SO MUCH SENSE.

MARCHAE: That is really eloquently stated

She has a tremendous amount to prove

And she has a tremendous amount of hurt and she is guarded because of those things - I think as the show progresses (I'm trying not to spoil too much for you)

But we learn it's a lot more than mom and dad

It's Webber and her own crap too

Meredith's drive is summed up in that choose me, pick me statement

And it gets the best of her often

KRIS: (Of the few original characters still around in season 13 I’m most surprised Webber is still there)

MARCHAE: (Really!!!!! I'm surprised by Alex)

KRIS: I guess just because it seems like he would’ve retired

MARCHAE: Ha!

I suppose that makes sense

KRIS: Do you think Meredith is a little bit of a cipher at first because she’s supposed to be sort of an audience surrogate? Or is it just that she’s stuffing a lot down where no one can get to it yet?

I guess I could look at the bible to figure this out

MIRI: The show bible, not the Christian one. A show bible is a big ass document explaining the world of the show--a deep dive on who the characters are, the setting, the vibe, etc. It also usually contains some episode and season plots.

MARCHAE: I can send it to you (maybe I already did)

KRIS: You did

MARCHAE: I think it could be a by of both to answer your question

Bit*

I think we learn the most about her as the show progresses that justifies somemof the things I find most annoying about her

However, she is kind of our guide into this world

I read the Bible and it's a bit different than what's on screen not much

I'm most impressed by how developed she is and and that SRs intention is that her characters (when she writes) have no end they are infinite in terms of story because they have to be (except in the case of scandal which had an end from the beginning)

KRIS: Sure, and that also makes sense for a setting that has continuing education built into the characters’ lives

MARCHAE: Which is kind of brilliant on her part

KRIS: It was part of why I liked ER

MARCHAE: I know you said you liked Bailey but I was curious about why and also your thoughts on Christina Yang

KRIS: Which was specifically at a teaching hospital

MARCHAE: (Did you ever watch St. Elsewere)

KRIS: no

Part of why I like Bailey is that in these earlier episodes when I haven’t really found my way into all of the central intern characters yet is just that she thoroughly has her shit together

MARCHAE: (Such an amazing show- set in the 80s)

YESssss

KRIS: As someone who has never disagreed with a character yelling at George, I just appreciate that there’s a blunt authority figure with a really dry sense of humor

MARCHAE: (Oh Kris promise you'll keep watching!!!!!!!)

KRIS: And that she also has basically that same comportment toward the attendings

MARCHAE: Ummm excuse me!!!! George is awesome and it infuriates me he gets yelled at!

KRIS: I will, I think it’s one of those things that’ll be easy to return to between other shorter things

Oh man

I mean I don’t dislike George

If I’m being honest there’s more of George in me than I’d like

Which is on some level probably a reason I like when people take him to task

MIRI: Wait guys this is actually enormous progress for Kris to “not dislike” a character he thinks he partially embodies.

MARCHAE: He just so freaking kind that I feel like they poo on him because they can

MIRI: Just because he’s kind doesn’t mean he’s without flaws. Also he is not always kind! Which is good because no one is, but let’s not pretend he’s a saint.

KRIS: I have trouble with Designated Kind Characters though

MARCHAE: And that bothered me a tremendous amount as a person who rarely yells at people even when I'm mad

Kris what is happening

KRIS: Because those characters are also often very squishy

And I’m impatient

MARCHAE: So you weren't an Izz fan either?

Squishy

KRIS: And I think you can have Very Kind characters who aren’t pushovers

Hmm

I like Izzie fine

K: I didn’t want to do much annotation here, but on this point I want to be clearer. Obviously George has stories and an arc about becoming a stronger, more assertive person. What bothers me not necessarily about George specifically, but about how Nice characters are often written, is a conflation of kindness with weakness or timidity, and this seems to me how we’re supposed to read George’s default setting, or at least his starting point. Not that kind characters should never be weak or timid! To address Marchae’s question a little further, I think there’s an interesting distinction between how Izzie’s kindness or “softness” makes her seem less of a doctor (to someone like Cristina) and how George’s seems to be more a reflection of his overall character.

MARCHAE: *insert Marchae DYING GIF*

MIRI: Marchae has what has been described as an “unhealthy attachment to Katherine Heigl”

KRIS: So okay, yes, if I had to pick an intern I most identify with it’s Cristina

There are just a lot of feelings flying all over the place

MARCHAE: I KNEW IT!!!!

KRIS: And Cristina has no time for that

And Cristina doesn’t like babies

MARCHAE: She is my favorite!!!

(She does....ish)

These people are incredibly emotional which sometimes makes me uncomfortable so she is often the voice of reaso

Reason*

KRIS: Right, me too

And I realize there’s some masculinity/patriarchy baggage here too that I’m always in the process of dealing with myself

But yeah, I feel like a lot of the characters are not just emotional but very NEEDY

Which brings me to Shepherd

MARCHAE: I will also give you that

They are needy

KRIS: That man is super needy, specifically in how he wants to be liked

MARCHAE: I often feel like they don't listen very well to one another

KRIS: Oh for sure

Which is also often used effectively for laughs

Like in the episode I just watched, Izzie has just gotten home from her first date with Alex and Meredith has just dumped Derek

and they go into George’s room and are just having their own “Seriously?” monologues

MIRI: This kind of moment on Grey’s is usually done SO well and I really want to go watch some season 2 Grey’s right now and avoid all of my responsibilities, ok? Ok.

What did you think of Derek’s initial courtship of Meredith?

MARCHAE: I don't love it to be honest

KRIS: Even setting aside the professional inappropriateness, which I think we can just grant a TV drama

I don’t either

MARCHAE: I couldn't understand why she was smitten with him to begin with to be honest

MIRI: It does work better for me once they’re established and have a weight of history to cite re: their mutual obsession and problems. I think that’s the dynamic SR was always interested in for them.

It reminded me of a more

Or I guess less childish Carrie and Big relationship

KRIS: I didn’t find the Can’t Take No for an Answer thing charming, and I feel like the show really wants us to find him Needy-BUT-Charming

MARCHAE: I don't find him likable in later seasons

KRIS: I’ll grant that the performance is less grating than the equivalent character in a lot of rom-coms

Patrick Dempsey does Quiet Charm and Quiet Intensity really well

oh interesting

MARCHAE: He forgets Merediths needs often

KRIS: I’ll keep that in mind

In the code black/bomb squad two-parter, that runner where he keeps nagging Burke about why they can’t use first names for each other eventually pays off, but in the first couple scenes of it I was like “Ugh, classic Derek”

MARCHAE: LOL

KRIS: I actually really like Burke, most of the time

MIRI: Ugh, you would

MARCHAE: Derek, I will say this, has a long stretch where I don't mind him

Burke I forget about him sometimes

I like him as he relates to Christina

KRIS: Isaiah Washington was written out for unpleasant interpersonal reasons, right?

MARCHAE: Yes he was!

He and yang have an interesting dynamic and she owes her success (in small- very small-part) to him

But he also softens her a bit but not in an icky way

MIRI: Um I would say some of it is very icky, when he is steam rolling over what she actually wants because he’s too busy seeing the version of her he wants. I’m glad for her to have the chance to grow personally, but not for her to be forced to do so in any particular direction.

In a way I think that gives her a bit more depth

KRIS: I really liked the B-story where they tried to go on a date and it was just super awkward until someone else at the restaurant collapsed

MARCHAE: Because it's them LOL

KRIS: What I like about Burke is that his vibe is what I guess we would stereotypically call “Zen”

I always like the Zen guy

And one of the things I generally really like about the show is how it portrays teaching and mentorship

MARCHAE: I never thought about that really until you just said it

Hmmmm

It is kind of interesting

I always appreciate the friendship aspect- I think that's what I note

Like how much these people love each other so so much

And would do anything

MIRI: Any time they dance it out is an amazing time

But that teacher /mentor relationship is also a really neat dynamic

Thanks

KRIS: I mean the teaching is often couched in very technical things (“Why do we _____, Dr. ____?”), partly for audience benefit, but they also use those moments to show how that bonding happens

MARCHAE: Yes!!

KRIS: And I think Burke’s personality lends itself particularly well to those beats, but I like it with everyone

It’s when they show that they can put aside all their relationship stuff and be professionals, and I think that’s really important for a show like this

MARCHAE: YES! Again while you don't love the music I don't love how unprofessional they are sometimes

KRIS: Like in front of patients, or just how they fight a lot?

MARCHAE: The patients, each other, all of it

Discussing other patients with patients

I'm like REALLY GET IT TOGETHER -FICTIONAL LIVES ARE COUNTING ON YOU

it's my biggest critique

MIRI: Marchae really does not approve of her fictional hero people being people--see our Captain America: Civil War reactions.

Though I guess I would be watching some other show if it was all about being professional and not the bonus stuff

KRIS: Yeah, I guess I just assume a certain amount of Hot Mess in almost any TV, but especially network

(I guess NCIS is a show with less of that, I don’t really know it)

MARCHAE: Criminal minds too

Any cbs show really

MIRI: Hard disagree--those people are all Hot Messes. Gibbs does nothing but Emote Grumpily and have discolored flashbacks of his dead wife and daughter, and the whole Criminal Minds team is full of emotions and PTSD.

KRIS: I guess most crime procedurals will tend to be more [self-]serious

But ER definitely had lots of friendship and romance stuff

Oh, there is one little thing where I compare Grey’s unfavorably to ER

And it’s that even though there are nurses we see fairly often, no one ever addresses nurses by name

And look, I STILL remember the names of some of those early ER nurses

Haleh

Chuny

Malik

Lydia

MARCHAE: Now that is impressive

Derek dates one nurse

KRIS: Olivia got to be a person for a bit because of the syphillis thing

But just like, give them names

MIRI: Bokhee and Daniel Sunjata have names. I’m not sure about anyone else, and Daniel Sunjata isn’t for a few seasons.

MARCHAE: Yeah

Ha!

You could start a campaign

Lolol

KRIS: I feel like it’s also a thing that could be used to show character

Cristina and Burke might not bother to learn names

But Meredith would

MARCHAE: So would Izzie and George

KRIS: George and Izzie definitely would

MARCHAE: Alex not so much

KRIS: Derek would

Yeah not Alex, unless he was trying to hook up with them

MARCHAE: Derek might I think unless he's flustered

KRIS: Webber would have at least absorbed everyone’s names through osmosis at this point

MARCHAE: HAHAHAHAHAHHAAH

LOL

KRIS: Okay I can end this rant

MARCHAE: That is hilarious

So were you completely lost with the finale you watched

KRIS: Not as much as I was worried I’d be

But for sure the character turnover was like, oh, maybe I should’ve just jumped right into this season

MARCHAE: Yeah she kills or lets go of lots of people (it's usually where I have to take a break out of frustration with the show)

KRIS: I mean I totally get it, it’s a long time to be on the air

MARCHAE: I don't they should do this for the rest of their lives

Long live #teamgeoizzie

MIRI: ANY PORTMANTEAU THAT INCLUDES “JIZZ” IS NOT OK, MARCHAE. WE’VE HAD THIS CONVERSATION

KRIS: Marchae

MARCHAE: *sorry*

MIRI: SHE’S NOT SORRY. SHE’S LYING, READERS.

KRIS: You know Miri will have to annotate that

MARCHAE: I know but I feel like since we're here and it came up-she'll be fine

KRIS: Do you know if those four leads who are still around have done much other high profile stuff while it’s been on the air?

Even Noah Wyle was in and out of ER for the last few seasons

MARCHAE: Ummmm hmmm I know that Owen was involved in an indie film

But he's the only one I know of

KRIS: But like Meredith, Alex, Bailey, and Webber

MARCHAE: I forget he came later my bad

KRIS: Oh wow, looking at Ellen Pompeo’s IMDB page, not a lot at all besides Grey’s post-2005

MARCHAE: No I just check Chandra Wilson because I thought she'd done broadway

But nope

KRIS: Pompeo’s in a Taylor Swift video and she did a little bit of voice work for a cartoon

and that’s it

I wonder what that’s like

MARCHAE: Oh yeah she was in bad blood for six seconds

KRIS: You become an actor to be different people and then you end up just being this one other person

MARCHAE: You know Sandra Oh said she went to therapy when she decided to leave

KRIS: I believe it

MARCHAE: I have thought about that too

It becomes legitimately a different part of you I'd suspect

Because it's been forever for some of these people

KRIS: Yeah. I wonder if it’s just too exhausting to like go do a feature or something in between seasons when you’re the lead on a 22-24 episode show

MARCHAE: That does seem like a lot

KRIS: Although I would also believe if Ellen Pompeo has trouble getting cast just being a woman over 40

MARCHAE: Which is mind boggling - because she's dynamic

KRIS: She is great, but again it’s not a very showy part

Most of the time

(I mean I don’t want to speculate, I obviously don’t know her life)

MARCHAE: Yeah

So you mentioned that your instructor had some things about the finale

KRIS: Yes

MARCHAE: I'm curious what they were

(By things I mean opinions)

KRIS: She said that the thing the episode is supposed to be about doesn’t really get the act breaks

And that the story that does get the act breaks isn’t really substantial enough to justify it

The most obvious candidate for what the episode is About is Meredith’s VO thing about your world “exploding”

But Stephanie also has a little speech about clenching your fist through necessary pain that seems like it could be a thematic statement

I agree with her that most of the act breaks are not very strong

There’s not much real suspense in whether Stephanie and Erin are going to get through the fire or whatever

And most of those beats just come back right where we left off, and the beat gets resolved without any twist or new information

MARCHAE: I could see that

KRIS: Just, yep, Stephanie made it into the stairwell

Yep, Stephanie got her keycard

MARCHAE: I think my notes even say this isn't their strongest finale

KRIS: Not knowing most of these new characters, it seems like it would have been stronger for Nathan and Owen to get the act breaks?

MARCHAE: I thought there was tension because she's notorious for killing people in the end - so I didn't know if she was going to die

KRIS: But I’m not sure what those would have been either, because they’re mostly just reacting to information they can’t do much with

I thought it was possible Erin would die on the roof

But not before

MARCHAE: But she couldn't die At all because she was keeping Stephanie alive

And Stephanie had to have a reason to live thus leave

So ultimately I can agree with your teacher on all accounts my note says the episode seems weird

I think you may have articulated what I couldn't put my finger on

KRIS: Yeah, and I do think that from what I’ve seen Grey’s is usually really good about tying its storylines together with the theme of the episode

MARCHAE: (I also thought the dialogue was odd - stating something we'd already seen)

KRIS: Heavy-handed but effective

And here there was no real emotional link between the fire story and the Megan story

K: Now that my class has met I do want to clarify what Writing Teacher meant. Writing Teacher is usually a big proponent of Grey’s; along with The West Wing and Friends it’s one of her most frequent touchstones for story structure and theme, and how those things work best when they’re in concert. She talks about having a “tree” when you write anything, the thematic and emotional core that can and must stay intact no matter what else you change in the course of writing and rewriting. And the tree here was, or should have been, that story about Megan and how her homecoming affects the relationships of Meredith, Owen, et al. To her guess, the problems of poor/no suspense were not the real problem, but symptoms of “draft drift” as the writers lost sight of the Megan tree and tried to manufacture artificial drama out of a Finale! gimmick that was doomed to fail precisely because they didn’t relate it to the theme they started with. (Except literally, I guess, in terms of your world exploding.)

MARCHAE: I may have to watch the episode before to see what was happening

KRIS: And whatever was going on with Jackson trying to be a hero

MARCHAE: I thought it was a call back to an episode before he saved a kid from a bus and scared Kepp to death

(Also the perpetual beeping almost made me shut the episode off)

(Complete aside)

KRIS: This isn’t totally related but it’s a great piece about writing suspense/action that everyone should read

By one of my favorite showrunners

The gist of it is that you need to have multiple live possibilities for how an action scene should end if it’s not going to just be taking up time

“Don't write action sequences. Write suspense sequences that require action to resolve. ... every action sequence has its own internal three act structure. Objective, complication, resolution. And not only that, but the complication needs to be something which forces a choice on the character, not just a complication in physical circumstances.”

And this was generally not the case in those Stephanie scenes

MARCHAE: Ahhhhh

So my argument for her is that we just needed an event/thing to get her off

KRIS: You could sort of see how it could’ve been, with the stuff you said about Erin keeping her alive

MARCHAE: The show and make her realize she needs to be away from the hospital

KRIS: But it didn’t feel like the emphasis

What’s her story?

MARCHAE: Stephanie? She comes as an intern in season 9

Her group loses several interns by way of death

KRIS: Geez

MARCHAE: She and Avery were kind of a thing

I never thought it was as serious as she did

KRIS: HA

MARCHAE: But he breaks up with her after at Kepps wedding

When He decides hey I want Kepp

Embarrassing her and making her feel like an idiot

She's not, in my opinion, liked much by all of her peers at first but they end up getting to be better friends

I stopped there because I'm in the middle of that season

(And yang leaves and I'm not ready for that nonsense)

I like her but from 9-11 I don't feel like she's terribly well developed and the relationship with Avery isn't either

KRIS: It seems like the cast also just got a lot bigger

It didn’t seem like all the regulars were even in this

MARCHAE: They revolve really we lose interns and doctors go

KRIS: But also it felt like there were characters currently there and in the credits who weren’t part of the story. I think Alex is only in that one scene where Meredith tells him to help look for Erin?

MARCHAE: I think in this episode you saw most everyone except a few

Yeah jo also wasn't there

She's in Stephanie's class

KRIS: And Jo is one of the few people whose (actor) names I recognized so I was weirdly disappointed

MARCHAE: I need to watch the episode before the finale I bet they were in that one

KRIS: I do like Kevin McKidd; Rome on HBO was great

I don’t think I have any other season 1-2 notes, but I can take questions

Man we didn’t even cover Ellis, but I feel like there’s more stuff Meredith is about to learn in season 2

MARCHAE: So much

And Merediths half sister and her other half sister

KRIS: Right, Miri wants to do one of these after I meet Lexie

MARCHAE: YES!!!!

MIRI: For the first few episodes of Supergirl I called Alex ALexie because I couldn’t let go of my Chyler Leigh associations, despite how different the roles are. And I’m excited for Kris to see those differences! But also come on--both are the sister of the blonde lead/title character, both named some variant on Alexandra/ria. It’s a lot.

KRIS: Oh I do like Joe the bartender and Joe’s the bar

MARCHAE: Oh kris

KRIS: But I feel like they probably should’ve introduced Joe before the episode where he was a patient

MARCHAE: You get to know him I think

KRIS: You know, before watching for this reaction I’d probably seen at least as much of Private Practice as I had of Grey’s

Which is to say five or six episodes

Private Practice had more actors I already recognized

MARCHAE: Oh that's another good one I didn't finish it though

MIRI: I did finish it, because my loyalty to Addison Montgomery runs DEEP

KRIS: Like, almost everyone, really

Tim Daly voiced Superman in the 90s animated series

MARCHAE: I LOVE HIMMMMM

he's on madam secretary

It's good

KRIS: Amy Brenneman, obviously

MARCHAE: I agree watch more and I want another reaction!!! Stat<---see what I did there

Yeah taye diggs I think is also in that show

KRIS: Yeah, I knew him from something

Oh I guess that’s it actually

Okay so like half the cast

OK I’ll keep watching Grey’s

And I’ll pick up Private Practice when Addison gets spun off

MARCHAE: YES

YESsssss

I wanna react to that with you also!

KRIS: I do like Kate Walsh

I feel like that’s actually not a super popular opinion but I’m not sure

MARCHAE: She just had an article out a couple of days ago about watching herself on tv

I like her a lot

KRIS: I don’t have much interest in 13 Reasons Why but I know she’s in that

MIRI: She is???

I thought the pilot of Bad Judge was fun but didn’t see more of it

MIRI: I loved it SO much

MARCHAE: I haven't seen 13 reason the book was traumatic but I'm confident she's stunning in it

So let's say we check back in on august for reaction part two!!!!

KRIS: We’ll see

Maybe if I’ve gotten to season 4 we bring the others into this

MARCHAE: I was just throwing it out there

🤓🤓

KRIS: But if we do a Grey’s check-in we also need to do either a Crazy Ex check-in with you or an Orphan Black check-in with Lemon

And OBVIOUSLY our Sweet/Vicious check-in

MARCHAE: That's very fair!

I also started the Tina Fey show

KRIS: I’m not even going to identify it here, that deserves an annotation

MIRI: Does she mean 30 Rock??

K: She 1000 percent means 30 Rock

I feel like we have a lot that’s sort of vaguely on the docket but not a lot of For Sure We’re Going to Talk About This Next

Lemon mentioned something yesterday or the day before

Oh, Hello--2 man Broadway show now on Netflix

Miss Sloane, The Leftovers, possibly Cable Girls

...

Spider-Man

MIRI: YES!!!

MARCHAE: I can't react to spider man so I'll leave you and Miri for that

And atomic blonde

MIRI: YES!!!!! Y’all, the first trailer for Atomic Blonde is still my favorite movie of the year. I’ve watched it 16 times. One of those times was right now, because I had to pull it up to do the link and then obviously I couldn’t not watch it. I would do a whole reaction on just that first trailer.

KRIS: YES

Okay dear readers

I’m personally a big fan of The AV Club and Vulture and Vox Culture

but if those aren’t your thing

we hope you’ll Pick Us, Choose Us, Love Us for your pop culture reaction needs

(too much?)

(I’ll show myself out)

MARCHAE: YESssssss

MIRI: Amazing

Not enough Kris, not enough!

#Grey's Anatomy #Shondaland #Shonda Rhimes #Meredith Grey #Ellen Pompeo #Marchae #Kris #TV #pilot #Miri after the fact #reaction

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