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princessofprocrastination · 3 years

Text

Just A Bet (GeorgeNotFound)

MASTERLIST

pairing : georgenotfound / george x reader - dreamwastaken/dream / clay x reader

summary : you’re just a bet to him. that is, until he realizes that you’re someone with a title. he scrambles to pick up your broken pieces, but he doesn’t realise that he’s too late. (angst) (trigger warning) (happy ending)

a/n : here’s sorta a little AU for you guys, don’t take any of this seriously, some things in this are clearly made up. side note ; holy shit i have more than a 100 followers right now. thank you so so much.

everyone has probably dreamt of being a princess, a real one. for example, when the movie ‘the princess diaries’ came out, people wanted to be mia thermopolis and rule genovia.

sounds like a dream, that is, to be going to high school and have plenty of paparazzi’s chasing you, or to be able to be recognized everywhere.

in reality, it is the complete opposite of living the dream. you could barely walk out without being recognized if you didn’t cover up your face in some way. you were restricted to do many things, even to just hang out with your friends to grab lunch.

to other people, they might just tell you to suck it up, that in the end of the day, you’re royalty, and that these are only tiny problems.

you agreed, sure. but you did want to smell the fresh flowers outside. you wanted to be able to get food from wherever, with whoever without people’s prying eyes.

you just wanted freedom.

to whom might be reading this might be confused. you’re a princess. just like the movie, yes. princess of saudi arabia, you are.

you are fairly young, still in your twenties. most people your age are out having fun going on a girls night, or still studying for their degrees, or even working right now.

but you were prohibited to leave the castle. you were told to leave on the queen’s orders, only during meal times.

some days, you really liked it, being a princess. if you weren’t being egoistical, you would say that your face really did suit the royal title.

you didn’t have to leave your room to make stacks of money. but the problem with that was, what would you do with the money if you couldn’t leave the house?

so you went on the internet. you settled on the internet. with the queen’s permission, of course.

sure, she can be strict like all the time, but she tried her best to give you your freedom. so she let you have social media accounts. you being you, the public immediately found your accounts.

you couldn’t find new friends, they were too scared to come across you. so you just entertained yourself.

this isn’t bragging, but a lot of people knew who you were, but that doesn’t mean everyone does.

since you barely had a childhood, with being born and raised royal, you entertained yourself watching minecraft youtubers. for some reason, it calmed you.

dream team, as you called the group, caught your eye. you watched all of their videos, caught up with every single live streams of theirs, even followed their instagrams and twitters.

one morning, when you woke up, you found your instagram notifications fuller than other days. you were fairly confused. that is, until you realised that the whole of dream team had followed you back.

they definitely know who you are and what you do now, right? they have a large fanbase, surely, they would’ve told the boys.

your followers, since seeing the boys follow you, have told you to start playing games. you didn’t disappoint them. you asked your parents if you could and they granted you permission to do whatever you wanted.

they told you “this would entertain the public and love you even more.” and smiled at you. you thought maybe they hit themselves in the head today with the leniency they gave you. but you pushed that thought. maybe they thought you have grown old enough.

valkyrae, a streamer on twitch had reached out to you after knowing about your gaming desires. she asked if you wanted to join her and her group to play among us together.

you almost immediately agreed and the rest of her friends welcomed you in with opened arms.

your mum gave you one condition, that you had to follow in order to film yourself playing games. that is, if you kept yourself poised and respectable. you agreed to her shenanigans and started to play with rae.

playing with her meant that you met countless different content creators, such as corpse husband and pokimane. they all were super nice to you, even when you had told them that they didn’t have to be nice to you because of your title.

soon you had found yourself in an amazing group of friends and you felt great about yourself.

you and rae had sustained such amazing friendship that she had came over to your house multiple times for meals.

you’d text her “come over to my house, let’s eat lunch.”

and she’d reply with “your castle you mean?” she jokes around.

your friendship was loved by many people out there.

one thing you didn’t say was that not everyone was obligated to know who you are, which then happens to be funny to see when they did end up finding out who you are.

just the fact that they show such shock to their faces, and the tone in their voice changes.

“holy fuck, she’s royal.” toast says as he came back from googling your name to know more about how you came about in a game of among us.

“i’m so sorry for the past rounds.” he apologizes for the time he accuses you for no reason.

“please treat me the same way you used to, i’m just y/n when i’m playing games, definitely not a princess.” you told him.

you didn’t have a big ego, although your parents did. “they need to know that you’re important.” they told you, but it never stuck to you. you wanted to be respected as a person, for your personalities, not because of a stupid title you were born in.

sykkuno, rae and you had decided to make an smp, where you three would start building things for fun and stream it.

you three had enough fun until it got boring, for you to start asking your other friends to join. the first person you offered to tour your little world was corpse since you and him had clicked so well.

because you started playing minecraft and streaming it, it got the attention of minecraft youtubers. and for some reason, the seventeen year old, tommyinnit had found you interesting enough to talk to you.

with tommy being that close to you, you attracted tubbo and wilbur soot, as well.

“i am in a vc with a princess.” tommy had said on stream when you two decided to play minecraft along with tubbo and wilbur.

sure, the teenage boy got a little annoying at times, but you found it entertaining and funny. of course, tommy being tommy, he’d ask slightly personal questions about how royalty works in saudi arabia.

not that he knew how royalty works in general, anyways.

“the queen is still my favourite woman, but you come in close second.” he told you once. you laughed at that.

no big title could stop you from fangirling the moment the man, dream itself had sent you a donation, and then later sending you a direct message.

“let’s play minecraft together soon, seen me your discord.” he dmed you one day. of course you complied.

for some reason, you never had the chance to play with george, and you played minecraft with sapnap and dream separately, never together. not that you were complaining.

you decided on a more chill and laid back stream on that specific day, not really feeling like going on a minecraft server or play among us with your bestfriends when you got a text from an unknown number.

hey. they sent

who’s this? you sent a text back.

my bad, this is george. they sent a text back to you.

holy shit. why would george text you. sure, you have played minecraft and among us with him sometimes but he isn’t one to give out his number so this was weird to you.

although you consider to be close to the entirety to the dream team, you often tried to avoid texting them, especially outside of streaming. you didn’t want it to be awkward or tense.

surprisingly, as your conversation with george lengthened, it became less and less awkward. the more you two texted, the more you felt like you and him had been friends for the longest time.

being the princess, raised in a castle meant that you didn’t really have a social life. other than being put together with some prince of another country in hopes you’ll fall in love with them or marry them, you haven’t really had a legitimate boyfriend. not even a crush.

to you, the princes in the world can be arrogant, snobby. they act like they are the most important thing in the world, that if they walk in a restaurant, everyone was to drop all their work for other people to entertain them.

sure, this could just be the way that they were raised, but you didn’t want that in a man, a husband. it wouldn’t kill to be a little humble.

princes are also a bore. they live practically the same lifestyle as you. conversations were never interesting, always the usual.

to summarise this, since you and george have been talking and texting, you had fallen for him. hard. and it seems like he’s feeling the same way, just that the both of you hadn’t really said anything.

DREAM’S POV

being really close friends with someone, more than one person, bestfriends, that is, meant that we had a group chat together.

nothing constructive was ever said, only boys being boys.

nick was the one to bring it up. and since he is the youngest, he sure does say some stupid things.

dude, you should try to get in y/n’s pants. nick asked george in the groupchat.

there was a running joke between the nick and i. george lives under a rock, basically. when everyone was walking on eggshells around you, trying not to offend a princess, he never really cared.

and that was when nick and i found out that george had no clue you held such a title on your pretty little head.

you are a beautiful girl, no doubting that. i was sure that many people, even before you started streaming had a major crush on you. george definitely fits right in. he was practically vomiting hearts when he first saw you.

it was meant to be funny. it was never meant to go this far. nick didn’t mean for his little bet to break a heart, let alone a princess.

but he did. well, technically george did. he was so brutal with it. he toyed with your feelings, like he had no care in this world.

no one would’ve guessed that the little cute, short george would do something as bad as he did.

and now, no one can find you. no one.

you were there, smiling in front of your camera one day and you were gone the other. just gone. no one knew where you went.

granted, you are royal. it must not be hard to get people to hide you. but at the same time, you had major reporters trying to find you. and they couldn’t. what does that leave us?

where did you go?

come back.

and although i know you want to hear this from george instead of his friends, you won’t. because he probably doesn’t.

we miss you.

please just text us, we need to know you’re safe.

YOUR POV

you left. you had to. it had been extremely humiliating.

you didn’t think someone as sweet as george would do that, it all happened so quick.

you had flown to england to meet him. he encouraged you to. it felt amazing to leave your hometown, you’ve lived there all your life. you definitely needed to fresh air.

it took a lot of convincing your parents to let you fly to england. without a doubt, you knew that the only way you’ll get to leave is if you had a guard with you.

this isn’t that kind of cliche story, your guard could literally be your dad, get your head out of the gutter, you are utterly in love with george, and you were sure george knew that and that’s why he encouraged you to fly to him.

the first couple of days were fun. he brought you to all over brighton for you to experience what it’s like in england. he told you he wanted you to get your first real experience as a tourist, and that was what he did.

winding down for the night, you brought him to relax in your hotel suite. frankly, george was surprised that you could afford such a place. but he didn’t want to ask where you got the money from, he didn’t really care.

all he wanted to do was to complete his dare. his ego was too big to lose this time.

that night was when you decided to tell him about your feelings about him. you were pretty confident that it was going to go smooth sailing. just the way he treated you showed so much about his feelings.

so you did, you told him. while you told him that you love him, more than friends love each other, he looked you in the eyes. you weren’t sure what that meant.

but he smiled. or smirked, you weren’t sure.

and he kissed you. and the night didn’t end with you just kissing.

so you thought the night was amazing, that it couldn’t get any better than that.

that was, until you woke up the next morning.

you woke up, sun shining straight into your suite, curtains wide open.

although you didn’t really feel the presence of another person in the room with you, you brushed it off. you felt like something was off, that something was missing.

you rolled over in your hotel bed, to see if the british man was laying next to you.

he wasn’t. in fact, he was not in the hotel room at all. you checked the bathroom, the small little living room in your suite. he was found nowhere.

you tried to see if he had left traces of himself in your hotel room, a sign that he was indeed there and that you hadn’t been dreaming it all.

but the pain between your legs caused by the brit told you that it was all not a dream.

so you did what a logical person would, text him. maybe he left to get food.

but you knew that wasn’t the case the moment you had unlocked your phone.

texts flood in, your social media notifications seemed to not be stopping anytime soon.

you opened your texts messages. a couple from your parents, a lot from rae, multiple from some minecraft youtubers who you called friends.

besides your parents, they were asking if you were okay. they were telling you to stay safe and to lay off social media for a while.

your parents were practically screaming at you through texts. they called you a disgrace, not an honour to the family. you didn’t understand where this was coming from.

you opened twitter, knowing that it was going to be the easiest way for you to find out what had happened, and why were you involved in it.

you were trending. number one worldwide. you clicked on your name. your phone left your hand, falling hard to your hotel floor with a loud thud as you covered your mouth with both your hands, crying.

two pictures. two photos that said it all.

first photo was of you in bed, obviously naked under the hotel duvet. you were still sleeping. there was light coming from the windows, that showed that it had barely been sunrise when it was taken.

second photo was what hit you the hardest. you wanted the earth to swallow you from below. it was a photo of your back, very naked back. it was clear that it was a photo that had been taken during sex.

and it was obvious who you had it with, because he was the one who posted it all over twitter.

george.

that was why he left, with no traces of him ever being in the hotel room.

you weren’t sure what was his motive. but you sure did know that he had completely broke you.

crying, you picked up your phone from the floor, calling rae.

“oh my god, tell me you’re okay.” she was panicking on the phone.

“i need to leave.” you told her. you knew that she would immediately understand the severity of the four words you told her.

since then, you never came back. to the eyes of public, it was as if you never even existed. you were gone.

you moved with rae.

she had to leave her roommates to settle in with you. her roommates weren’t mad at her for leaving them. they completely understood, you needed the help.

although her roommates wanted to help you, they couldn’t. you needed to have the least amount of people to be with you.

it didn’t help that they were all content creators, too.

rae told people that she moved because she wanted her own space, so that she can make better videos. when she announced she was moving, not one person speculated that you had been the reason of her move.

you paid for the house, you needed to. you owed her. no matter the amount of times she told you that you owed her nothing, that she was just doing it because she loves you, you couldn’t let her pay for a single thing.

you needed to up your security, too. so you two had decided to get a house that was pretty big, somewhere in the mountains, with top security, away from other people.

your parents soon calmed down after that day. they told you to come back, the begged you to come back. but you told them that you needed the time alone at that moment, and assured them that you would be okay.

so they did what parents would. they made sure you were well taken care of. they sent you massive amounts of money, sent your their trusted guards to stay around the house.

they did this all for you without the knowledge of the public.

your parents told reporters that you were well safe, and would not be in the public eye, not until you were ready.

you helped rae film certain videos. well, not like there was anything good to do in the massive mansion, anyways.

all your social media pages were still up, just not updated. you left everything. you had created a more private one, for your close and trusted friends to follow.

and you thought that nothing could really top that eventful day in england.

but it did.

you’re sat on toilet in on of the bathrooms, rae rubbing your back.

pregnant. it was clearly written on the test.

no fucking way.

in no ways were you ready to be a mother.

as a little kid, you had dreamt of being a mum, alongside a successful man who took responsibility.

you never would have seen yourself to be a mother alone, with the help of your bestfriend.

you never thought that you would be a mother, whose dad is someone who clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you.

rae stayed with you all the time. even through the gross vomit sessions in the morning, or all the time, in your case.

but you were in no way shape or form ready for a child. you had to raise a child on your own. even the thought of that had emotionally drained you.

weeks after you found out you were pregnant, you were significantly getting more moody, and rae knew that.

she made sure you ate well, slept well and kept up with eating vitamins each day. that was until, you couldn’t take it all anymore.

maybe it was the stress. well, it was the stress.

you blamed it all on the emotional toll the pregnancy took on you. your body was practically screaming for help. help that you need, but you weren’t in the right head space to offer the help to yourself.

it was a typically normal day for rae and you. besides rae screaming in her gaming room while streaming, it had been pretty quiet.

you felt queasy, but you pushed it off. it was normal for you nowadays. everything almost made you throw up. the look of something, the smell.

but on that day, it was a different type of feeling in your stomach.

one second, you were walking into the kitchen, trying to get some water, and the other, you were on the floor, in pain.

you screamed. this was the worst type of pain you’ve felt in your life. you screamed for anyone who could hear you. you were sure that even rae’s stream could hear you, but you didn’t care.

soon you heard multiple footsteps. one of your guards came to your aid before rae did. he supported your head on his lap, him sitting on the floor.

he told the other guard who came soon after he did to call the ambulance.

that was when you finally found out what was happening.

“holy shit, she’s bleeding.” rae repeated to herself.

you were bleeding? that wasn’t good, right? that meant bad things, doesn’t it?

you felt like you were floating, like your limbs were as light as a feather. that was because you were losing consciousness.

you lost it. you lost it and found out it was a boy.

now the two boys you love more than your life aren’t here with you, forever.

you cried for weeks, rae next to you, making sure you were still alive and eating. she was the only one that stayed by your side in real life. sure, your online friends did care about you, but they just couldn’t be there with you.

clay and nick had always been texting you, sometimes calling to try their luck, clay mostly. you knew they cared about you, and they wanted to make sure that you’re okay. but you felt embarrassed. you didn’t want to face anyone, even if people kept saying that you did nothing wrong.

apparently rae’s stream heard your scream, and that was how rae found out that you were in danger. she couldn’t hear through her headphones, but her chat kept spamming her about it, and that raised alarms.

they kept asking about the ‘mysterious girl screaming’ in rae’s stream. it was short lived, though. rae told them that she had a friend over and that they were injured, and that rested the chaos for a little.

you were sure that some people knew you were living with her. most of them were almost like detectives, after all.

you didn’t blame the stans. it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you would live with her, anyways.

since the awful day at the hospital, you have texted clay and nick. you wanted to tell them that you were okay, that you aren’t hurt, at least not physically anymore.

it didn’t take you long to start calling clay daily again. other than rae, you didn’t really have anyone. so you told clay.

it felt weird talking about a baby that used to be in you to someone whose bestfriend was the dad of. but he completely understood you. sure, he couldn’t say for experience, seeing as he clearly can’t get pregnant, but he supported you, made sure you let it all out to him.

you and clay grew close, almost bestfriends. although you and nick were close, he’s still in college, and that meant that he usually didn’t have time to talk to you as much as clay did, and you didn’t blame him. school can be a pain in the ass.

but you still made sure to never keep nick in the dark. as much as clay is one of your bestfriends, so is nick.

clay made sure never to talk about george to you, which deemed to be difficult since they had been friends for years. he had accidentally slipped his name out to you a couple times, but you were sure he didn’t meant to do that.

other than the usual “george has been sleeping like a log” and “he slept through the smp war.” you hadn’t heard anything else about him, but it seemed like he was doing well.

clay had told you about the bet.

“nick brought it up, but we didn’t think he was actually going to go through with it.” the floridian said.

you aren’t the type to hold grudges, not even if they did you really dirty, so you told clay that you were on the path of being fully healthy and that he didn’t need to apologise for his friend’s behaviour.

“are you ever going to come back?” he asks you in a facetime call. you knew exactly what he was talking about. he wanted to know if you’d ever come back on the internet.

you didn’t even know the answer yourself. you weren’t sure. so you told him that.

“maybe, maybe not. who knows.” and that was months ago.

you had plenty of time to heal, to get back on track. but nothing could top your pain of losing your child, that you never got to hold, to kiss, to spoil.

telling your mother about the loss of your baby was the hardest. she is a traditional woman, always telling you to get married before bearing children, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love the baby you were carrying in you.

she cried on the phone, sobbing, hiccupping. you wanted to hug her so bad, she even asked you when you’d come back, but you told her you needed time, but you’d be there soon.

for some reason, although you got maximum hours of sleep each day, you still felt exhausted. you consulted a doctor, but he told you that it was normal since your body is still fragile, but the exhaustion never really went away as months go by.

being bored at home, and hearing rae having fun made you feel lonely, it made you feel like you were left out. so you made the decision to come back. not to stream, but to appear in rae’s videos.

rae and the rest of the group welcomed you with open arms. they were caring and made sure you felt comfortable again, not stepping any boundaries. not that you cared, the public was bound to know everything soon enough.

so you did that.

you were playing proximity chat among us, with the usual people. at that point, you and the other nine people were still in the lobby, chatting, until corpse sounded out.

“what have you been doing nowadays?” harmless question, in your opinion.

you didn’t want to hide anything anymore, and rae knew what was about to happen.

“been having a lot of rest. doctor said that i’m still fragile.” you told corpse.

“are you sick?” toast asks. some people would’ve been offended at that question, or take it the wrong way, but you didn’t.

“actually, i suffered a miscarriage recently.” you told them honestly.

there was no awkward silence. immediately, everyone started apologising, saying “sorry for your loss.”

you brushed them off, telling them that it’s okay, that they didn’t offend you at all for asking that question.

“feels good to get it out my chest.” you told them, laughing at the end of that sentence.

“she hasn’t slept well at all, she really wanted to tell you guys.” rae told her

one by one, they all spoke to you, asked you if it was even okay that you all talked about it on streams. you told them that it had been your choice to tell people this way, and they had nothing to worry about.

on the other hand, it was tough for george. not at first, though. he thought it was going to be easy, having sex with a pretty, virgin girl and ditch her alone in a country she she hasn’t personally been to.

but that changed the moment she disappeared. the guilt never really hit george until people started bashing him on the internet.

at first, people were too focused on the girl. people discriminated you, called you a slut. they didn’t think that george was wrong at all, although he was the one who took the explicit photos and posted it.

but then, people, mostly woman had started to realise indeed how messed up it was.

george really couldn’t care that you “left.” but then people kept on commenting on his posts. specifically, they often left a comment saying “really bold of you to do that to a princess.”

at the start, he thought the comments meant that they couldn’t believe he did such terrible things to their princess, someone wholesome they cherished. he didn’t realise that his comments literally meant that you are a princess.

so he googled it. he wanted to know why people kept calling you ‘princess’ or ‘next on the throne’. he was curious, and he wasn’t expecting it all to be real.

when he googled your name, a huge google tab came out.

princess of saudi arabia.

this must be a typo, right? he couldn’t deny that you are indeed a pretty girl, he just couldn’t believe that he had done such things to someone so royal.

he never even thought that one day, he would score to talk to celebrities, let alone be able to be in bed with an actual princess.

so he doubted it.

but then he kept looking.

he looked at images of you. photos of you with a small tiara, next to what seemed to be the queen of saudi arabia, wearing a long, modest emerald gown. the photo was taken when the king had a birthday.

picture after picture, he started to doubt his thoughts even more.

he couldn’t lie, your face really fit the title. if he really thought about it, your existence screamed royalty. the way you spoke, your poise, the way you strut in a hallway and was able to wow a crowd without trying.

george always assumed that people only stared at you in public because of how beautiful you are. he never really realised it all until now.

usually, guys can be insecure when they hear rude comments about how a lanky man is able to get a beautiful, confident woman. but to george, he felt even more egoistical. he used you, truly like a trophy wife.

that was until he really realised.

now, he thinks that everything he did was just a plain asshole move, not saying it isn’t if he did it to any other normal girl.

“i fucking messed up” he thought to himself, reading press conferences about your princess title.

if he thought he messed up then, wait till he found out you were pregnant, and then later losing it.

he felt like he was in a fever dream. it felt like a written book, not real life.

he kept slapping himself, pinching himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. it all felt unreal. so many things were happening.

now, he’s more concerned than guilty. he wanted to know if you’re okay. even he felt like he can’t cope with the information he was given, how would you feel?

furthermore, he kept reading theories that the scream in the background of valkyrae’s stream was yours. had you lost the baby there? had you lost his baby there?

he called clay and nick. he wanted to double check. it was all a lot to handle, knowing you’re a princess and a mother in the same week.

nick screamed at him on discord for hours, literally. george knew clay was just as mad, just as disappointed. he just didn’t have the energy to say it all, even though all he wanted to do was fly to england and beat george up.

although it took george a while to realise everything he did was messed up, he came to. and he really did want to contact you. but really, anyone in your position wouldn’t even glance at his name twice after what he did.

he was happy that you were looking healthy on rae’s stream. although you weren’t really ready to stream on your own again and many people understood that, and never pushed you.

but whenever he saw you sometimes on rae’s facecam, he could see that pain, deeply hidden in your eyes. you were trying to cover up the fact that you were still trying to heal.

CLAY’S POV

it was infuriating to see george not really giving a shit at first, and then changing to a new man. it took you to tell the world about your lost child for him to own up to his mistakes.

nick and i had been friends with him for years, it takes a lot to just dump a friend, a close one at that. so we did what we could, help him wake up from this “dream” he’s in.

that didn’t mean we weren’t mad at him still.

if he didn’t want to own up, i will.

the subsequent years came by and went really quickly. people were starting to forget the drama that you and george were in. people soon became uninterested about it, but still stayed with you, encouraging you to heal slowly and take your time.

that was what you liked about the internet. granted, some people can be mean, but the people who supported you were the ones that helped you keep going, helped you find a reason to wake up in the morning.

no, you’d never forget that you lost a child, and you were reminded by the people on the internet who made it a pact to make sure george never forgot that too.

george did end up talking to you a couple years ago. you accepted his apology, but not him. you were sure he only wanted to apologise after knowing that you were the next in the throne.

speaking of throne, you were back in the castle. not permanently, but you visited often. you still lived with rae, and you had actually started streaming on your own again a few months before george reached out to you.

clay and nick had been supportive of you since the start, still clearly apologetic even though you told him that you had forgotten about it and that it hadn’t even been their fault in the first place.

but they were persistent, clay more than nick since nick was still very busy with college. you loved the two of them and considered them to be one of your best friends, aside from rae.

GEORGE’S POV

it was difficult. i felt like i had no shame to just text her one day after being gone for so long. but i actually felt bad. i know it was a rocky start.

i had been so focused on winning the bet and not wanting to be called a pussy from my friends that i disregarded you, your feelings.

i knew from the start that you had been a great girl. you were just so sweet to everyone you meet, even strangers. it warmed my heart, it made me feel safe to be around you all the time.

not that i can say that right now anyways, i didn’t have the right at all, after what i did to you.

i don’t know what love is, given the fact that multiple girls had left me before this. i asked myself often if what i felt for my exes were actually love, or had i just been desperate.

but i felt like when i was with you, it had been love, or close enough.

but i couldn’t just burst it out one day that i love you, we weren’t really even dating.

given that you had been pure, prior to me, it was shocking to see you so open, so welcoming to me. it was like you had known me forever, that you trusted me.

and i took advantage of that, and later i got the consequences.

i suffered the consequences. i see him with you. and i see that you’re happier with him. if it was any other guy, i think it would hurt less.

but it was my own best friend. it was clay.

all the instagram photos you post, his face blurred or covered, or when he posts a photo of you, it all hurt.

i started the fall for you, for your genuine heart, and when i finally decide to do something about it, someone else had done it before me.

deep down, i knew that clay would’ve been the better choice for you anyway. but it still hurt me. hearing his voice coming from behind you when you stream without your facecam.

everyone was so supportive of you and clay, they’re obviously happy that you found someone who treats you better, even i knew that.

i wished i hadn’t taken you for granted, i wish i hadn’t listened to the stupid voice in my head reminding that you were all just a bet, that i wouldn’t love you like you think i would.

i felt left out.

a while ago, you were in florida with nick and your boyfriend, clay. it stung to see nick and you streaming so happily, not remembering me.

but i deserved it. and i knew you deserve to be happy, after everything i did to you.

but that didn’t compare to the pain i felt now, a year later, seeing photos of clay and you, his face turned from the camera, facing you. he was down on one knee, proposing.

and although you were crying and your hands covered the bottom half of your face, i could see how happy you are, i could see the amount of love you held for clay.

how i wish i had done things a little more differently.

#georgenotfound #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound fanfic #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound imagines #dream imagine #dream imagines #dreamwastaken imagines

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 2*

Yes, for two days this is a semi short chapter, but I had another long today and have one more tomorrow and I wanted you to have SOMETHING. Weirdly though I had an entire different chapter written in my head, but when I started typing this came out instead. My original idea is still coming, this just added a fun little bonus getting there. I promise, tomorrow you will get a longer chapter.

Thank you loves for sticking by me through everything! I love you all.

Also, I'm finally using CHAPTER. I kept wanting to use it instead of PART but I just kept writing PART and was like WELP. But they're chapters, right?!

Ok I'll shut up.

Part 1 Here

Part 3

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

And @storiesofsvu for Rita check. lol.

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

When five o’clock rolled around, Rita came walking out of her office with a stack of papers and her briefcase, balancing her purse on her barely free arm.

“Y/N, Why are you still here? Did I not unlock your chains?” She laughed.

“Haha….no, ma’am” You nervously laughed. “I um, I think I’m waiting for someone,”

“You think?” She raised a curious eyebrow. “If you’re waiting on Barba, you’re going to waiting a long time, sweetie,”

“Wha-? How--? Why, exactly?” You asked her totally flabbergasted by the insinuation that not only had Rafael asked you out, but was bailing already.

“He tends to get a little...involved, in his cases. Poor man is a workaholic,” She feigned pity for him.

“Right,” You nodded to her comically overflowing briefcase and papers. “Something you know nothing about,”

“Touché,” She winked. “I’d give him a call, make sure he hasn’t forgotten about you, dear. Before the cleaning staff shows up,” She laughed and sauntered out of her office, leaving you alone in the dark.

You glanced down at your phone. He hadn’t really specified a time, just-- “Tonight”. What did that even mean? Tonight. Like early evening dinner, or a midnight snack after he was done with his cases? You should probably text him. Or call him. Or text him.

TO BARBA: Heyyy….

Wait. Was three y’s too many? Wasn’t that a rule? You show affection by how many y’s you use? Is that a thing kids do these days? Wait, no you’re not a kid. And he certainly was NOT a kid. No. Be a grown up about this.

TO BARBA: Hi I’m just...checking in.

Checking in? What did that even mean? And why the ellipsis? There doesn’t need to be a pause in a text. That’s why it’s a text. You pause in your mind before typing. Idiot.

TO BARBA: What’s up?

Ok. Short and simple. To the point. No pressure, no demanding. Just... ‘checking in’. You hated yourself. Alright fine, good enough send it. SEND IT. HIT SEND NOW.

MESSAGE SENT.

Your phone shook in your trembling hand as you waited for the ellipsis of him writing back. That was too much, no no just put it back in your pocket and he’ll text you when he--

BARBA CALLING

Oh god, a phone call? Who calls people anymore? Grown ups, that’s who. Answer the phone like an adult.

“H-Hello?” You answered it as if he had the wrong number.

“Hey, Cinderella,” His smooth voice came through your earpiece. “I’m so sorry, I should have been more specific about the time,”

“Oh, yeah no-- no big deal, I’m just here at work….alone, in the dark…” You muttered the last words to yourself as you looked around the dark office.

“Right. Well, I’m kind of wrapped up in this case right now--” He started, making your heart drop. Well, Rita called it. He’s just married to his job, no time for women, let alone you. Time to just--

“....Would you hate me if I asked you to come help me?”

“...I’m sorry, what?” You blinked in confusion at your phone. So, was he actually asking you out or trying to snake you as an assistant from Rita? Is that what he meant by ‘dinner’? “Hey come bring me food and help me file these cases, because I’m so sexy and cocky and--”

“You know what, I’m so sorry I just heard how that sounded. You’ve been doing this all day, the last thing you wanna do is come--”

“Sure!” You cut him off a little loudly. What were you doing?! You’re just going to lay down and let him use your services for free? Well, when you put it that way it sounded pretty skeezy about yourself.

“....Are you sure? Because we can just have dinner another night--”

“....Yeah I have a feeling that will never happen,” You cut him off with a laugh.

“Wha--no, it will! I just--”

“Your wife comes first, I get it,” You cut him off again.

“My wife?”

“Yeah you’re married to your work,” You smirked into the phone.

“Wow, quippy Cinderella. Guess you’re more confident on the phone without my gorgeous face tripping you up now, aren’t you?”

“Do you want my help or not, Casanova?” He was totally right; without those green emeralds staring into your soul you were actually a pretty funny and smart person. Maybe it would be better to just have this date on the phone.

"Yes, absolutely," He sighed with a smile.

“Did you want me to bring food, or am I just supposed to eat paperclips and vending machine leftovers??”

“I’ll order some pizza, do you like pizza?”

“....I live in New York Barba. Obviously I like pizza,” You teased.

“Right,” He chuckled. “Well I’ll be here--”

“I know where your office is,” You cut him off for the third time.

“Oh, do you?” He asked in a sneaky tone, as if he thought you’d been googling him or something.

“Um, yeah,” Your voice fell an octave softer. “Actually I’ve been there several times, dropping off stuff from Rita for you,” Of course he wouldn’t remember that. Why would he remember that? You weren’t anything special.

“Shit,” He muttered as if chastising himself. “Y/N I’m so sorry, I--”

“It’s fine,” You assured him as you headed down to the subway. “I’m uh, I’m getting on the train so I’ll see you soon,” You hung before he could reply.

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

It wasn’t that far to Rafael’s office from Rita’s, just a few stops away. You quickly hurried up the stairs back into the Manhattan air as you swiftly walked through the sea of people leaving corporate America to go home to Suburbia. Finally you reached the building, went for the door and-- it was locked.

Well of course it was locked, nobody else in their right mind would be here this late-- so clearly you and Rafael were out of your minds. Shit. Should you call him? Was there a buzzer? Before you could think of another solution a pizza delivery man was walking up to you. Maybe ‘man’ was too generous, he was probably around 16 or 17.

“Delivery for Mr. Barba,” He handed you the pizza. Did you look like a “Mr. Barba” to him?!

“I um,” You stammered as the hot pizza burned the sides of your arms you were holding it on. “I’m not Mr. Barba,”

“Are you taking it to him?” He asked you with a slight attitude.

“I um,” You thought a moment. Well you were going to see him, so yes theoretically you would be taking the pizza with you to him. “...Yes,”

“That’ll be 46.57.” He whipped out a credit card scanner on his phone.

“E-Excuse me?” You were taken aback. Now Barba had you buying him dinner? And what kind of pizza costs basically 50 bucks?!

“2 Large pizzas, an order of cheesy bread, a dessert pizza and delivery fee,” The kid read off the receipt from his phone. “I only accept credit or debit cards, and please tip generously,”

“Yeah right,” You muttered with a roll of your eyes as you pulled out your credit card and swiped it across his phone. The light turned green and a receipt printed off an attachment to his phone. He ripped it off and handed it to you, then nonchalantly walked back down the stairs to wherever he was parked.

“Awesome,” You sighed. You still didn’t know how to get inside, and now you were carrying all this hot food. All of this for a pair of green eyes?!

To make matters worse, your phone started going off in your purse. You groaned and tried to put all of the boxes down softly, but the night wind blew them onto the pavement, HARD.

“Shit!” You groaned louder as you tried to salvage the food while pulling your phone from your purse. Of COURSE.

BARBA CALLING

“I can’t get in,” You simply stated as a greeting on the phone.

“What?”

“I can’t get in the building, Barba,” You grumbled, now on a 8 on the annoyance scale.

“Oh! Oh God,” The line went dead. Awesome.

After a few minutes while you were trying to rebalance all of the boxes in your arms, one of the big glass doors swung open right into you. The boxes all pressed against you, their hot, saucy, cheesy and chocolatey goodness smearing all over your work outfit.

“SHIT!!!!!!” You screamed in horror.

“Oh my god, Oh god Y/N I am SO--” Rafael started to apologize profusely, but you noticed he was trying his best not to burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny?!” You asked angrily while you peeled a pepperoni from your hair.

“No, not at all,” He shook his head vigorously, but kept giggling behind his eyes.

“You do!” You stomped your heel, causing marinara to roll down your legs. “You are absolutely laughing at me being covered in all of your stupid food that I had to pay for by the way--”

“Oh no, really?” He suddenly turned sincere.

“No, Rafael,” You scoffed as you tried pulling cheese from your skirt. “I just had sex with him in the parking lot and we called it square,”

“Really--?!”

“NO NOT REALLY!”

“Okay! Okay I’m sorry, really I am,” Rafael tried to show you sympathy, but you looked so damn cute covered in a tasty meal.

“Yeah I can see that, you’re grinning like a five year old,” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N I really am,” He gave up trying to hide a laugh. “But you have to admit it’s pretty funny--”

“I DON’T THINK--” You started to scream at him again, but his smile made these cute little crinkles in his eyes, and his laugh was like an angel’s chorus. You might have been covered in food, but you would be covered in manure if it made him laugh like that.

“For what it’s worth, you look delicious,” He teased you, pulling an actual full piece of pizza from your chest and biting it.

“Oh my god, you’re so gross,” You did your best not to laugh, you were still supposed to be angry.

“Yum, Y/N flavor, my favorite,” He laughed for a moment just as you both realized what he had said. “Uh, I mean--” He looked away in embarrassment, and you swear you saw his face flush red.

“Um no counselor,” You bit your lip with a smile. “I’m pretty sure I taste better than a mix of pizza sauce and chocolate,”

“I’m sure you do,” Rafael bravely retorted, now that he knew you were in the playing mood.

“....But seriously, now I have to go home and get this shit off--”

“I have a shower in my office,” He blurted out.

“....Excuse me?” You blinked, not believing you heard him right.

“I...I have a shower in my office,”

“Oh my god, Rafael Barba are you that addicted to work that you live here?”

“No!” He rolled his eyes. “It’s for emergencies,”

“Emergencies? Like what?”

“Like a beautiful woman covered in pizza toppings and chocolate,” He smirked. “Now come on, I don’t want anyone around here thinking I’m dating a crazy person,” He opened the glass doors again and escorted you into the lobby of the building.

Your mind didn’t know what to focus on first; the fact that he had this mysterious office shower, that he had offered for you to use said shower, or the fact that he just referred to you as a ‘woman he was dating’. You just followed him silently into his office with a smitten grin on your face.

He wasn’t lying when he was in the ‘middle’ of something. Papers were strewn all about his desk, a white board with bullet points for arguments and cross examinations scribbled on it. You finally got a good look at him without the anger of having food all over your judgement. He looked tired, not the usual smooth and pristine Rafael Barba you were used to. But when he looked back at you to show you where his shower was, his green eyes sparkled gazing into yours.

“So, I have some spare suits in a closet here, would you mind hanging out in one of my dress shirts while I wash...these?” He gestured to your dirty clothes. Wait, wash?

You suddenly realized he had led you into a secret room to the side of his office, behind a bookcase.

“Wha…” You looked around the room. There was a shower, a wardrobe, a washer/dryer combo, and a suit steamer. “Jesus Barba, are you sure you don’t live here?”

“No I promise I don’t,” He shook his head with a laugh. “...But I may have on occasion fallen asleep here enough to invest in this,”

“And what happens when this office is passed on to a new ADA?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Then I’m sealing this place off like a mausoleum,” He stated very seriously, causing you to giggle. He loved your giggle, it was so small and soft, just like you.

“Anyway,” He shook off his momentary daze at your giggle hoping you didn’t notice. “Like I said-- Shower, dress shirt. Just put your dirty clothes in the washer and we’ll pop them in the dryer later,”

“Right,” You nodded, definitely having noticed his dreamy stare at your giggle. How had you gone from completely under his radar to making him giddy like a school boy in two days?

“Right,” He nodded back. “I’ll just be out here...ordering another pizza,” He smirked. “By the way, I’ll totally reimburse you for the one you’re wearing,” He stuck his tongue out at you with a huge grin.

“Oh you better,” You gave him the same face back. “Or I’ll cover you in it,” You lightly pressed a marinara sauce covered finger into his perfectly white dress shirt. He glanced down at it in horror.

“Oh that was so--” He started to tickle and attack you, but realized that would only make his outfit dirtier. “This isn’t over,” He wagged a finger at you as he pointed you to the shower. You gave him one last cheeky smile as he walked out and shut the door to his secret room.

What was happening? Why were you getting to him so easily, so fast? How could he have not even remembered that he had ‘met’ you several times? Well, one thing was for sure. He was never going to forget this night.

#rafael barba #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #not my yacht

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haifengg · 3 years

Text

A = Affection (How do they show their affection?) Ten would tease a lot. A lot. Also he would take a bunch of pictures of his s/o every time they go out or on dates.

B = Bad Day (What could ruin their mood? How are they when they don’t feel overall positive?) Ten having a stressful day at work is literally every other day in his life. But the days he comes home or shows up for dates in the most terrible mood are the days something was off during dance practice. And doesn’t really has to be his fault to begin with. Just training sessions that felt odd or maybe the group didn’t work as well together. On those days he just wants to go home. If he was supposed to meet his s/o on a date he would still show up but ask them if he could take a rain check. Ten would not postpone by text or anything but he would ask to reschedule.

C = Crush(What’s he like when he’s simpin’? Why do I use words like simpin’?) “Teasing is a sign of affection.” He really isn’t hiding it in any way. If his s/o doesn’t see it they are truly blind. Someone please tell them.

D = Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?) His dream would probably be something rather grown up, like being able to spend time with his s/o and on projects he loves doing equally. Maybe even his s/o participating. If he can’t make that happen he would pay a lot of attention and put in a lot of effort for his s/o not feeling neglected in any way because he loves his work but he loves his s/o as well.

E = Experience (How experienced are they in terms of relationships?) I always kind of assumed that he might not be the most experienced person when it comes to relationships but I can reassure that would be able to adapt to quickly. He is a very easygoing character and following the case his s/o is as well - it’s really a no-brainer.

F = Fights (What is it like to fight with them?) Ten strikes me as a stoic but peace loving person. What that means is that he would rarely fight. He would try to avoid confrontations because he knows he is not good at it and tends to say hurtful things to get his point across. Even if he doesn’t mean them. He would always go and a apologise immediately after but things have been said. If there is a disagreement he and his s/o would probably end up googling whatever the fight was about to check who is right. If he was wrong, he will admit it bitterly and move past that topic or avoid it in the future. G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o?) Lots and loads of self-made crafted gifts. Art. Sneakers he scribbled on. Self-made jewellery. A collage phone case with the theatre tickets of the movies you went together or the first concert ticket he gave his s/o so they could see him perform. (With loads of memories of that very secretive high-touch event)

H = Hugs (Do they hug their s/o? How often?) I don’t think he is a big hugger? But that might only be my opinion.

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?) Ten’s problem might be that he is way too confident. To the point where he suggests a couple of things without thinking about what his s/o might feel about it, because he doesn’t see how anyone could have a problem with it. Though once he noticed that he didn’t take their thoughts into consideration he would retreat quickly and apologise, asking for their opinion. This would only happen very rarely. Ten still is a very supportive and caring person.

J = Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?) Oh boy does he get jealous. And he will let them know. It will turn into that sort of situation or maybe even a fight, where he wants his s/o to apologise to him but his s/o says they don’t have to apologise for having other friends besides him. K = Kiss (Are they a good kisser? What’s their kind of kiss?) If he is a good kisser ... I am not able to tell. But in my opinion his favorite type of kiss would be a playful interruption when he has his s/o in his arms and they are telling him a story and he randomly interrupts them. All the time.

L = Love (When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?) In the beginning Ten said it very seldomly and even as the relationship deepens and they grow fonder of each other he will find different ways of letting them know. Maybe there is this one Sticker he always send which eventually has the same meaning and weight as those three words. Just way more intimate and private since it has this lovely definition only for those lovebirds.

M = Marriage (Do they want to get married? If so, what kind of ceremony?) In my opinion Ten doesn’t really has an urge to get married. If his s/o wants to he’s cool with it and as far as a ceremony goes I think he would prefer something unconventional and simple. Like a ceremony at a temple(?) or a field wedding maybe?

N = Night out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?) Random dates. Nights out with Ten could end up in a dreadful hangover the next morning or hours of stargazing. One never knows what they got themselves into.

O = Out of the ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?) He rarely fights. Disagree? Yes. Agree to disagree? Mostly. But rarely fight. P = Place (Where he first met them.) At a gallery. They were looking at the same installation and at one point his s/o said something to themselves which randomly cracked him up. Just by then they noticed Ten and got into a conversation with him, that would last for the next 4 hours. Q = Questions (Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?) Doesn’t ask opinions. Kind of this If-you-don’t-like-it-don’t-buy-it Kind of person. the choices he males for himself are the ones has to deal with and if his s/o isn’t cool with it - they might not be the right match for him. Don��t get me wrong. I am not saying he doesn’t care at all. He just thinks that his s/o should love them the way he is. Regardless of what tattoo he is getting or what horrible shorts he’s wearing.

R = Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?) Ten strikes me as a very spontaneous person. Even if it’s his s/o’s Plan he will go with them and do what they’re up to. If this spontaneous idea should suddenly get canceled maybe due to weather or national holidays the two of them forgot about Ten will quickly find something else to do. S = Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?) He Will. Steal. Blankets. T = Turn-Ons (What attracts him to people !NOT SEXUAL!) The spark between him and his s/o. Understanding each other non verbally and maybe even laughing in sync. Watching a show and reacting the same way? He’s all in.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a s/o?) His shameless honesty. V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?) If Ten can’t be vulnerable around their s/o they wouldn’t be his s/o and there wouldn’t be a relationship to begin with. Being able to let his guard down is the foundation he is building every close relationship on. W = Weather (What would he do during a cloudy and rainy day?) Lots of books. We all know he is an educated man. So if the weather is locking him inside his house, keeping him from going out - he will welcome this opportunity with open arms and read or maybe FaceTime his family? X = Xylophon (What does he think about their s/o’s taste in music? Is it different?) He is, like Johnny, very open in terms of music. He would try everything once and maybe even include into his playlist what he likes.

Y = Yuck (Is there anything that might bother their s/o about him? Any flaws?) Maybe he tends to be a horrible perfectionist from time to time, with a few things. Maybe he gets to tied up in work. Ten once said he needs a lot of work to function but I can see that his work-life-balance sometimes just isn’t as much in balance as one would assume.

Z = Zoo (Pets they would have)

Definitely a cat. Or 2. He would train them like dogs tho.

Taglist

@kpopsnowball @starrdustville @jeonghanmoon

@himitsu-luna @pocky-otp

Masterlist

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evilwickedme · 3 years

Text

ok so to sum up my feelings for leverage: redemption, season 1(a): (long post warning, there’s a tl;dr at the end)

I knew that Hardison wouldn’t be in most of the season due to Aldis Hodge being a busy bee nowadays, but I didn’t realize that meant he’d only be around for the first two episodes. He was sorely missed, not only because of my attachment to him, but also because he’s usually the grounding factor in the group dynamic, and his role as info guy and tech guy was split evenly between two characters who had their own issues.

That said, Hardison is absolutely a highlight of the two episodes he’s in. his speech about redemption was everything I could’ve hoped for (plus, more evidence for the Jewish!Hardison pile...). I wish we’d gotten to see more of his dynamic with Breanna because what we saw was funny and sweet and we don’t generally get to see Hardison taking care of somebody who so desperately needs taking care of. I hope that Aldis Hodge is around for more episodes in 1(b), because what we’re left with feels a little hollow.

Sticking to original leverage characters for now, for the most part the leverage crew still felt true to the original series as characters, even if the show itself was a little bit confused at times. The actors understand their characters and embody them so well that I think one could give them the trashiest script ever and they’d still sell it. Sophie is a particular focus in 1(a) because of Nate’s death, and she’s particularly well written as a result.

That said, I’m super bitter that we saw little to no mastermind!Parker. Parker’s character being given the mastermind role was a big deal and it feels like they’re walking it back because they feel uncomfortable with it. It is eventually given an in-text excuse, but literally in the last episode, and it was not a particularly convincing reason, and in fact contradicted moments from previous episodes (Sophie leaving for a client meeting and ignoring Parker in ep3 comes to mind). It’s frustrating, it makes the end of the original leverage feel pointless, and letting Parker make a decision once in a while is not the same thing at all. The original series repeatedly showed us that while everyone in the team had their strengths, Parker works problems and solves them in unique, interesting ways, and other characters’ days in the limelight tended to be comedic or even failures. It’s a broken promise, and a pretty major broken promise at that.

On a more positive note, Parker’s dynamic with literally everyone was fantastic. She’s possibly the best written character this season. They’ve taken the autism out of the subtext and into the text (although obviously still undiagnosed), and given her coping mechanisms that were taken seriously in the text even when they were played for laughs, which I appreciated. Her attempts to mentor Breanna were sweet, her friendship with Sophie was electric and at times (CRIMES) hilarious, and as usual, she has a fantastic dynamic with Eliot that makes my heart burst. If you don’t think they’re romantically involved, at least acknowledge there’s a life partnership here. They’ve spent the last decade together.

(We’ll get to Harry.)

Eliot isn’t given much arc-wise, which is frustrating since he’s my favorite. He’s being presented as the goal at the end of a redemption arc, ie to keep working at it every day until your soul heals or whatever, and it doesn’t reflect the message they’re trying to convey via Hardison’s speech and our two new characters. He’s got his moments, but I think they under utilized his potential.

Breanna!!! Breanna’s my new favorite, except for Eliot. She’s hilarious, she’s insecure, she’s nerdy and excited in a way that’s similar to Hardison but still distinct in its inherent teenage-girl-ness and I LOVE IT. Unlike the previous series, where Hardison’s “age of the geek” was often a joke played on Hardison, we’re at the point where Eliot and Parker are both right there with him, and so they accept and even appreciate Breanna’s nerdiness. Also, canon gay character? In YOUR Leverage? It’s more likely than you think.

(No, I never thought they’d make ot3 canon on screen. I hoped, but I didn’t think it would actually happen.)

I think Breanna’s the character that will be the most interesting to see grow. She’s got a lot of potential and a list of crimes a mile long (or more). I adore her with all my heart. I want to see her tiktok account.

Harry. Oh, Harry.

It took me a while, but I do like Harry. It took a while, because the narrative positioned him at the same level as Nate back in episode 1 of original Leverage. But in episode 1 we didn’t know the other characters. We had Nate as the POV character, and so we cared about him because we were seeing the world through his eyes. (This is TV Studies 101. I know this, because I took TV Studies 101 in 2019.) In Leverage: Redemption, we no longer have a POV character, for several reasons:

Nate, previously the POV character, is dead.

As it is, by mid-season 3 of leverage Nate was no longer a POV character. This is, coincidentally, the point where the leverage writers realized they had four other characters in the main cast they could do something with, and in-universe, Nate accepted that he was a thief, not a special Good Man.

Sophie is sort of a POV character for the first episode of the revival, but only for the first few minutes. Afterwards, the series settles into the groove of seasons 3-5, i.e., the entire crew is our POV. We know our crew, and we love them as is.

Narratively, however, Redemption insists on positing Harry as the POV character, because it is his redemption we are pursuing most vehemently. And I think they really relied on us already knowing the actor - I’ve never seen him in anything before, so to me he was a completely fresh face and they put almost no effort into selling him to me. Beyond being competent and consistently mildly baffled by the antics of the leverage crew, I honestly don’t know who this man is by the end of EIGHT episodes with him. I have a much better handle on Breanna by the end of 1(a), and I can tell you I knew all five of the original leverage crew better by the end of the first episode of the original series than I do Harry. What’s the name of his daughter, John Rogers. Is he still married. How old is the daughter. Why is none of this worth mentioning. Give him a sense of humor that isn’t reacting to other people’s shenanigans. I’m so frustrated. It’s bad writing.

I did manage to grow to like Harry by the end, but I’m pretty sure this is down to Noah Wyle’s charismatic portrayal of an under-developed character, at least partially. And I never stopped being frustrated at not knowing who this man is at all.

The two highlights of the season are undoubtedly episodes five and six. Episode five was the first time I felt like the episode was more than a collection of good moments between the main cast and mediocre moments between the main cast and also the main plot. The issues with pacing and tone that I suffered through for most of the season were mostly non-existent in ep5 and 6, and at least in episode 5 I attribute that to the pared down cast. They had time to focus not only on our actual characters - Sophie, Parker, Breanna - but also on the case. This is the only client from 1(a) I am going to remember next week without googling it first, mark my words.

Episode six worked for the exact opposite reason - it completely disregarded the client and plot and immersed itself in the characters. Breanna gets a moment to shine, but everybody else gets their bits and I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the script that was most fun to write. The characters felt natural, real, and captured the found-family dynamic that’s been missing all season for the first time.

While episode 2 is the weakest episode, I don’t actually have much to say about it. I am disappointed in episode 8. For a mid-season finale, I really expected them to do something. Instead, it was an episode about Nate Ford that copped out of being about Nate Ford (both with fake-Nate and with the new version of him being relayed to us). I would have told the writers to give that energy back to episode 1 and write an episode that’s about anybody who isn’t Harry, oh my God. I know I said I grew to like him but so many episodes were about Harry. He’s the newbie! Why didn’t Hardison get an episode that was actually about him, considering he was only around for two episodes? Why does Eliot have to be the butt of the joke when the theme of the series should directly tie back to him in a much more meaningful way? The last episode parodies their own tagline by saying Eliot isn’t just a hitter, but it deftly avoids noticing that they’ve turned him into nothing more than very muscly comic relief, including in that very episode!

Also, I hated the Marshal. Eliot actively looked uncomfortable around her.

tl;dr

The season took a while, that’s definitely true. But it did find its footing eventually, and by the halfway mark of 1(a) it finally felt cohesive again. The characters were played fantastically even when they weren’t well-written, and if nothing else, the humor landed every time. It still has its kinks and problems to work out, but if you look at it as a brand new show rather than a continuation of one that went off the air over eight years ago, it’s actually doing rather well. I’m choosing to judge it in both lights - according to its own standards, it establishes its identity in episode five; according to Leverage standards, it establishes its connection to its roots in episode six. Either way, I thoroughly enjoyed 1(a), and continue to have high hopes for 1(b).

fic writing will commence in three, two, one...

#leverage #leverage meta #leverage redemption #leverage ot3 #parker leverage #alec hardison #sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #breanna casey #harry wilson #mine

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swanprompts · 4 years

Text

300 DIALOGUE PROMPTS

This is a rebloggable version of my prompt list at my writing blog. This has 105 prompts from my old list and 195 new prompts.

IF YOU USE THESE PROMPTS IN YOUR OWN LISTS, CREDIT @swanimagines !!

LIST A - GENERAL/FUNNY

A1. “Can I take a picture of you?”

A2. “Where do we sleep now?”

A3. “Be quiet, they’ll hear us!”

A4. “I cooked for us! Or tried to cook…”

A5. “Can you explain why my phone is up there?”

A6. “Ugh, people are so weird.”

A7. “Wait, who?”

A8. “But I can’t draw!”

A9. “Your forehead has sauce on it.”

A10. “Stop snoring! You sound like a chain saw.”

A11. “C’mon, you need a reason to get out of here and I have one.”

A12. “No, nooope. I won’t do it. Nope.”

A13. “Do you mean I have to touch that?”

A14. “Wow, a great idea, but I’d rather die.”

A15. “Oh there you are! I thought you had melted through the floor.” “I had plans to do that but then I called them off.”

A16. “I’m trash, just not that kind of trash.”

A17. “Always nagging, aren’t you? Every time I hear your voice, it’s in a language called nag.”

A18. “It’s 6pm, the fridge is mine until 7pm, so… shoo!”

A19: “What’s this?” “I bought you binoculars because now you get to look at them better… or you could go talk to them.”

A20. “I’m gonna hit you.” “What?” “Ugh, that came out wrong.”

A21. “I’m okay. I’m perfectly fine. Yeah… okay, I’m not fine.”

A22. “If you wait for tomorrow, tomorrow is coming. If you don’t wait for tomorrow, tomorrow is still coming.”

A23. “I’m not yelling, I’m discussing with you with a loud voice!”

A24. “Tell me something. Do I look like a bunny?”

A25. “Maybe that secret is that your mom is really a time traveler.”

A26. “Too bad, I wanted to see some ghosts.”

A27. “Not that song, turn it off now!”

A28. “Is this the Heaven?” “More like Hell.”

A29. “Hey keep it down there, I’m trying to sleep!”

A30. “Please don’t use my toothbrush again.”

A31. “Hey, calm down, it’s not so bad…” “Calm down? There’s a riot going on in my bathroom!”

A32. “It’s alright to be a bit crazy. At least a minute of craziness in a day keeps the doctor away.”

A33. “I thought you had left.” “I’d leave without tasting this sandwich? It would be a sign of insanity.”

A34. “The Great King/Queen/Ruler of Food is here again.”

A35. “What can I do… they just love Mr. Bunny.”

A36. “Wait, do we have a permission to do this?”

A37. “As long as that is on my wall, I swear I’m not going to sleep.”

A38. “Pillows? Pfft. Who needs pillows?”

A39. “That’s what you get for being such a dummy.”

A40. “You really need a haircut.”

A41. “You should keep that to yourself.”

A42. “Oh, how could I not say yes to that?”

A43. “Hi and bye!”

A44. “Well, what did you expect?”

A45. “Kick that door down.”

A46. “I’m not drunk!”

A47. “That’s not a stupid idea, it’s an idiotic idea.”

A48. “You’re the type of person who laughs at their own jokes.”

A49. “Oh, I didn’t know you had guests.”

A50. “Oh, are you looking for [insert name]? They’re probably setting themselves on fire right now.”

A51. “Don’t be scared.”

A52. “Did you just smile?”

A53. “Would you wanna go for a walk?”

A54. “My lights are flickering, it’s the infamous Ghost of the Living Room.”

A55. “This cookie is my spirit animal.”

A56. “Don’t be boring, dance with us!”

A57. “You should keep that candy behind locked doors. I might eat the whole bag otherwise.”

A58. “What’s your password?”

A59. “My backyard is not a waterpark.”

A60. “I think you should talk to them.”

A61. “I wish we had more time to chat.”

A62. “You’re smiling.”

A63. “Do you even know how to laugh?”

A64. “Well, it’s busted, no can do.”

A65. “I know what you think.”

A66. “At least I smell good.”

A67. “It happened a long time ago.”

A68. “What exactly should I be looking at?”

A69. “Why your shirt was in my fridge?”

A70. “Argh, don’t you guys ever use Google?”

A71. “I think you’re overreacting.”

A72. “Do you like board games?”

A73. “But it’s so cold!”

A74. “You should really learn to read some books.”

A75. “Wait, I know where your pants are.”

A76. “There’s no one there, dumbass.”

A77. “A fly has been harassing me for weeks.”

A78. “Be honest, do I have to keep this shirt?” “No?” “Dammit!”

A79. “Not my kid, not my responsibility.” “It’s a dog!” “No, it’s your kid.”

A80. “Sorry, I’ll be late.” “Why is that?” “A cat has been sleeping on me for an hour.”

A81. “I’m still bored.”

A82. “I recognize liars when I see them.”

A83. “Well, books usually have text on them.”

A84. “This is the perfect day to piss [Name] off.”

A85. “Get me their phone. Then we’ll talk.”

A86. “Because you’re so young.”

A87. “Hello, I am your servant today, what can I get you, oh Almighty?”

A88. “Why are you hiding?”

A89. “Why are we hiding?”

A90. “Why you would wanna live in a dumpster?”

A91. “It’s snowing!”

A92. “They’re late. Again.”

A93. “My bathroom smells like someone put a fish into my toilet.”

A94. “Don’t tempt me.”

A95. “You know how much I like chocolate.”

A96. “Stand back, this might get ugly.”

A97. “I can’t believe the way you got them arrested.”

A98. “Wait - did you just agree with me?”

A99. “Nah, dying would have been boring.”

A100. “Can’t you have fun for once in your life?”

LIST B - LOVE/FRIENDSHIP/COMFORT

B1. “You’re being shy with me, aren’t you…” “No I’m not!” “Yes you are!”

B2. “You make me feel free.”

B3. “You’re cute when you try not to blush.”

B4. “I might be having feelings for you, I’ve had them for a while.” “Yeah right.” “I’m serious.”

B5. “It’s true. I’ve loved you ever since I got to know you - and even if you don’t feel the same, I’m willing to accept it.”

B6. “What if I told you that there’s a surprise for you outside?”

B7. “Everything is okay now, I’m here, I’m here.”

B8. “My world was black before you came into it.”

B9. “Did you do all this… for me?”

B10. “Did you really think I’d leave without a kiss?”

B11. “I didn’t know there’s a feeling like this.”

B12. “You’re the first person who has understood me.”

B13. “I’m not the person you want in your life.” “Yes you are.”

B14. “People change. And I’m not who I was before. I’m sorry for what I did.”

B15. “Do you… maybe, want to go to grab a coffee with me sometime?”

B16. “I really like you! Uh… I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that.”

B17. “I know this isn’t very romantic, but…” “It’s romantic enough for me.”

B18. “I’m not like everyone else, you deserve someone better.” “There isn’t anyone better for me than you.”

B19. “What are you doing?” “Showing you how much I love you.”

B20. “Will you make me happy forever?”

B21. “I didn’t know you’re ticklish… this is going to be fun.”

B22. “Your bed could be more comfortable than me.” “Nah, I’m good.”

B23. “You guys are so cheesy it’s disgusting.” “Why, thank you!”

B24. “Can I sleep with you? I need someone by my side.”

B25. “You’re so warm…” “You’re so cold.” “Mmh, that’s why I like your warmth.”

B26. “You’re special to me.”

B27. “Are those my… aaargh gimme those back!”

B28. “I’ve been gathering my courage to talk to you for so long and now… I did it.”

B29. “It’s obvious you like them.”

B30. “Crushing hard, huh?”

B31. “This is the place we first met. And now here we are, years later.”

B32. “Awww, is this you?” “Gimme that!” “No! You’re so cute, look at those pants!”

B33. “You cleaned my house for me while I slept?”

B34. “Wait, did you just call me cute?”

B35. “You’re my only friend, but you’re also the best person in the world.”

B36. “I’ve been in love with you all this time.”

B37. “I care about you, maybe more than I should.”

B38. “Because I love you, you idiotic mufflehead!”

B39. “Honestly, I didn’t believe in strong friendships before I met you.”

B40. “Maybe that’s the reason why we’re friends. You’re as dumb as me.”

B41. “Is that a blush I see?”

B42. “Do you want to go out with me?”

B43. “We’re friends, you can tell me anything.”

B44. “You look like you need a friend.”

B45. “Ah, ah, no tickling! Or no kisses.”

B46. “I made you dinner.”

B47. “I lit up candles and everything, you deserve to relax.”

B48. “You want it, I’ll get it. Don’t try to stop me.”

B49. “You’re the only one that makes me go cheesy.”

B50. “Here, take my umbrella.”

B51. “I think I’m in love… with you.”

B52. “You bought roses for me?”

B53. “Dance with me.”

B54. “Marry me.”

B55. “Babe, we’ll travel the world together.”

B56. “I’ve talked to you once and I already know I’m going to fall in love with you.”

B57. “I heard [name] has a crush on you.”

B58. “You look amazing.”

B59. “Best friends will stand together, even through the harshest of waves.”

B60. “I’ll continue doing this until you smile.”

B61. “Can I hug you?”

B62. “I have always loved you.”

B63. “Don’t worry, you look beautiful.”

B64. “Your flirting is so bad it’s adorable.”

B65. “Do you have to get up? I was just getting comfy.”

B66. “Stooooop, you’re making me blush!”

B67. “Uh-uh, I won’t let you leave without a hug.”

B68. “I’ll be watching over you.”

B69. “I bought you chocolate.”

B70. “I dreamed about kissing you.”

B71. “You’re my best friend, and always will be.”

B72. “Am I dreaming or did you just say you like me?”

B73. “Your smile is beautiful.”

B74. “Have I ever told you how cute you are?”

B75. “I’m with you. I’m home.”

B76. “I would have never believed that one day we’d be so close.”

B77. “We’re friends, right? Friends stick together.”

B78. “I’ll always be here, whenever you need me.”

B79. “You smell nice.”

B80. “I’ve loved you since day one.”

B81. “You built a pillow fort for us?”

B82. “You saved me.”

B83. “You always manage to make me laugh.”

B84. “Thank you for being there for me.”

B85. “Why do you care?” “Because I love you!”

B86. “Do you think of me as a friend?”

B87. “I think I have feelings for them.”

B88. “I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.”

B89. “I can’t believe we’re still friends. I thought we’d grow past the fart joke part.” “What, fart jokes are the best!”

B90. “Good morning, want some breakfast?”

B91. “I’ve missed you so much.”

B92. “Are you cold? Here, take my jacket.”

B93. “I’m gonna dare you to kiss [Name].”

B94. “Oh my god, you like [Name]!”

B95. “They’re in love with you.” “Oh shut it.” “I wish you noticed how they look at you.”

B96. “Breakfast in bed? You’re spoiling me.”

B97. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

B98. “Nobody is perfect. That’s what makes you special.”

B99. “I want you to be happy. You’re worth it.”

B100. “I don’t know how, but you always make me feel happy.”

LIST C - ANGST/ANGRY

C1. “I don’t want to feel anything anymore.”

C2. “I was there… and I didn’t do anything. I’m never forgiving myself for that.”

C3. “It’s none of your business.” “It’s my business if you cry because of me.”

C4. “Let go.” “I can’t.”

C5. “Leave. I don’t want you here.”

C6. “I never loved you.”

C7. “You were never there for me.”

C8. “You did that choice. Not me. You’re in this alone.”

C9. “You left me!”

C10. “It’s time you got to know how it feels to be betrayed.”

C11. “You appreciate some people only after they’re gone.”

C12. “I was willing to stay here with you until the end, but it was you who told me to stay away.”

C13. “No, you don’t have the right to come back to me and pretend that everything is okay again!”

C14. “You disgust me.”

C15. “Fine. If this is how it’s gonna be, then fine. I’m leaving you.”

C16. “They’re not coming back.”

C17. “I failed you. I failed everyone.”

C18. “You’re not worth it.”

C19. “How dare you stand there and tell me you still love me?”

C20. “I was an idiot to ever trust you.”

C21. “I can’t move on, and I don’t want to.”

C22. “I’m disgusted with myself that I once thought of you as my friend.”

C23. “They were my everything, and now they’re gone.”

C24. “It was you who broke our promise.”

C25. “You’re my friend.” “I have better friends than you ever were.”

C26. “I honestly want to set you on fire right now.”

C27. “There’s no one else to blame anymore, you made sure of it. It’s all on you now.”

C28. “I feel like there’s nothing waiting for me anymore.”

C29. “Tell me I’m wrong. Just say it.”

C30. “I love you, but I wish I didn’t.”

C31. “I hope you grow up one day. But I’m not going to be there to see it.”

C32. “What if I’m in too many pieces now to fix myself again?”

C33. “And here I thought that you’d keep your promises for once.”

C34. “Goodbye. Don’t come back.”

C35. “If this is love, I don’t want it.”

C36. “No one never stays, no one ever cares about me.”

C37. “Please, make it stop...”

C38. “It just feels like I can never let go... even if I try.”

C39. “I love them too much. And that always makes me go tumbling down the hill.”

C40. “I can’t do this anymore.”

C41. “Fuck you! Get out of my house!”

C42. “You’re not welcome here.”

C43. “Don’t expect me to fix things you broke.”

C44. “You always lie to me.”

C45. “Could you try stopping thinking like a machine and listen with your heart?”

C46. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone, but with you? I hope life will be torn apart on you.”

C47. “I wish you nothing but pain.”

C48. “I can’t take this any longer.”

C49. “You were my best friend, and you let me down.”

C50. “Forgive you? How could I ever forgive you for what you did?”

C51. “Don’t you dare close your eyes!”

C52. “I can’t feel the pulse.”

C53. “I can’t believe how I ever was a friend of such a toxic person.”

C54. “Everything reminds me about them. I just want to forget them, wipe them out from my life.”

C55. “I’ll be happy once you’re gone.”

C56. “Don’t give me those crocodile tears.”

C57. “You’re wrong, I have never loved you.”

C58. “Go to hell!”

C59. “I want you gone. Now.”

C60. “Oh, now my opinion matters? I wish we had never met!”

C61. “I’ll always hate you.”

C62. “You broke the promise. Again.”

C63. “I’d punch you if you were worth it.”

C64. “Nothing has changed in you, even when I wanted to believe so.”

C65. “Let go of me!”

C66. “Don’t touch me, you filthy scum!”

C67. “You did a bad thing for a good reason.” “But is it worth it if they died because of me?”

C68. “We’d/We’ll never get our happy ending.”

C69. “You’re never changing, are you? Always a dickhead.”

C70. “You’d never understand.”

C71. “I’m dying.”

C72. “I loved you years ago. But that feeling is long gone.”

C73. “I’m happier without you.”

C74. “I don’t even know who you are anymore, how do you expect me to love you?”

C75. “You abandoned me when I needed you the most.”

C76. “Do you think you could just magically waltz back into my life after everything you did?”

C77. “I waited for you for years before I finally found someone who won’t abandon me like you did, and now you come back and think we could be together again?”

C78. “There won’t be “us” anymore.”

C79. “You’ve lied to me all this time.”

C80. “I’m a monster.”

C81. “You’re a monster.”

C82. “Don’t hurt me!”

C83. “I’m leaving you.”

C84. “Please don’t go.”

C85. “I’ll never forgive you.”

C86. “No no no no, stay awake! Please!”

C87. “I don’t want to lose you too.”

C88. “Walk away and don’t come back, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

C89. “We need to get to the hospital!”

C90. “I know you hate me.”

C91. “Oh, so that’s what you think of me?”

C92. “I’m going to sleep on couch tonight.”

C93. “It’s my fault they’re dead.”

C94. “Don’t give me that bullshit, I know what happened!”

C95. “Give me one reason why we should still be together.”

C96. “If you had ever loved me, you wouldn’t have put everything else above me.”

C97. “You said you’d support me with this, but here we are.”

C98. “Why are you even here anymore? Just leave!”

C99. “I’ll be forgotten.”

C100. “Death doesn’t let you say goodbye.”

#prompts #prompt list #angst prompts #fluff prompts #fluffy prompts #general prompts

400 notes · View notes

wordsinwinters · 3 years

Text

Then Again, Part 26 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 50,293

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, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25,

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

A/N: This isn’t my favorite chapter, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year and I figured if I don’t post it now, I’ll never move on to the next. Additionally, as always, I live for feedback. 😉

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 26:

(Words: 2,825)

The bus ride will probably get boring soon, or at least as long as the girls stay asleep, but even as quiet as it is, it’s almost a perfect morning. Being early (around 6:00, I think?), there’s barely any light except street lamps and car lights, but some of the clouds on the right have caught a pretty bluish purple tinge. It reminds me of that Rainbow Fish book Aunt May used to read to me as a kid. To make it better, the morning air is chilly enough that the driver turned the heaters on low so it’s wrapped-in-a-blanket-while-it-snows warm in here. Although that also might be why, apart from general dirt and old gum, the strongest smell on the bus is salty grease— since the nearest heater is under the seat Flash spilled french fries and chicken nuggets in yesterday. It could be worse, though. I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad smell and the traffic isn’t horrible. It’s not the best, but it could definitely be louder and a lot slower. The field of flowing red tail lights ahead of us is oddly comforting, like a snail-slow pasture of mechanical color.

All in all, it’s a pretty cozy start for a dreaded five hour bus ride. It’s giving me quiet time to think. So that’s where I’m at. Or should be. I got some stuff organized in my head last night even if I keep getting distracted now. Well, it was more like a couple hours ago, since I wasn’t able to get to sleep for so long after we said goodnight. But anyway, I’m trying to focus. It’s just hard, even with both of them sleeping.

From my and Ned’s spot behind them, watching the girls’ heads gently shake and bump against each other as the bus shudders through potholes is kind of calming. They seem so peaceful from this angle, like two people who’ve never pranked me and Ned to the point we were nearly suspended, or kept us awake and annoyed by asking paradoxical hypothetical questions because they know how Ned and I will argue for days if we don’t agree on an answer, or anything else like that. It’s like finding two mischievous cats sleeping, curled up on a chair. It’s easier to appreciate them when they aren’t causing chaos. But it’s not that hard to appreciate them when they are anyway.

Though Ned and I won’t admit it when they’re fully awake, seeing their heads smack into the seat in front of them each time the bus lurched to a halt at stoplights (during the first ten minutes after they’d fallen asleep) was funnier than it should’ve been. Even knowing then that we wouldn’t mention it later didn’t stop us from exchanging silent laughs when they leaned back up, muttering unintelligible complaints before settling their heads back onto one another. For the last couple stoplights before the highway, at least, we decided to be better friends. We both stood up with one leg on the floor and one knee on our own seat so we could easily hold their foreheads back each time it happened. Again, I wouldn’t admit this out loud, even to Ned, but it’s a little bit funny that Ned was a split second slower than me, so while I kept catching MJ’s head before the stop, he half-smacked Y/N’s forehead, like a really-close-to-the-floor basketball dribble, and made a wincing face each time. A lot of times. But it did stop her from colliding with the seat, and she didn’t wake up or complain.

As nice as it is with them and almost everyone else sleeping through the dark, quiet first hour of the bus trek back to New York, I am excited for her and MJ to wake up. Whenever that is. I’ve missed them.

But anyway, I really need to focus. God. I’m not doing a great job of that this morning. Apparently. So I’m focusing now. It’s like Ned said. I need to be honest with myself.

Okay.

Alright.

No distractions.

I’m going to set myself straight now, before we get back, so I can make a game plan and be more decisive and make less mistakes. Fewer? Yeah, fewer mistakes. She’s told me that half a dozen times this since she read that grammar book last summer. But that’s not important.

If I’m being honest... I think I’ve avoided the real possibility that things could work out between us because it felt too risky. And I make some dumb, impulsive choices. So that’s saying a lot. If she said no, what’s the worst that could happen? May and Ned have been asking me that for months, and it’s been so frustrating. The answer should be obvious. The worst thing wouldn’t be the rejection, it’d be if it made her uncomfortable and she broke off our friendship. Or, even if she stuck around, if our friendship changed and I had to watch her get more and more distant, knowing it was my fault and nothing would ever go back to normal.

Those were the worst — and, I thought, most probable — possibilities. For months I’ve been certain that if anything changed, everything would, and it’d all go to shit. So I kept dodging it. And dodging her before the trip. But, then, things did change this weekend. Things are changing. We fought, and it was super shitty and awful and a total nightmare fiasco, but we made up. And she seemed almost as relieved as me when we did. Now we even have this pact about spending more time together. I know it’s officially only in the name of friendship, but something’s… different. I feel it, and I think she does too. And it doesn’t seem bad. That’s the craziest part. I mean, she even kissed me last night. On the cheek, but still. “Keep it.” Maybe May’s not ridiculous: she really might feel the same way.

I’ve been texting her this morning, actually. Aunt May. I had to admit that I’m happy she forced me to do the forehead kiss thing last night. As annoyed as I was that she and Ned ganged up on me like that, I can’t dispute the results. She kissed me! Kind of. (To be fair, she did hit my mouth a little bit even if it was an accident.) At first it made me wonder if she heard any of Ned’s shout-comments before I could turn the t.v. up to cover what he was saying. But I doubt it. Even if she felt the same way, I know her too well to think she wouldn’t freak out more and enough that it’d be noticable. Yeah, no, I’d definitely have been able to tell if she’d heard him saying things like, “Nobody’s saying you have to tell her that you googled the probability of high school sweethearts getting married that time she saved your ass on that Bronte essay, but yeah, Aunt May’s right! Just ask her to come over and either talk to her or do the hair/forehead thing!” Anyway, May’s on board with her coming over a lot this week and next week and giving us some space. So are Ned and MJ. Ned said they agreed on giving us two weeks (starting tomorrow) without them hanging out after school. And who knows, if the dance goes really well, maybe it’ll be normal for us to hang out, just us, without the whole group. Because… well, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself.

I’ll admit, they’re the best friends I could ever have. All three of them.

And it’s nice to have them all here now, Ned to my left and the girls in front of us. It’s even nicer to be outside of class or the city or crazy study sessions and have had a short breather from all that (despite the shitshow before we smoothed things over and could enjoy it). To be somewhere chill together. Yesterday and today probably feel even better because the last few days, or even weeks… no— months, if I’m being honest— have had me in a kind of less than happy place. But that’s over now. We’re all here and things are finally good. I just wish the girls would wake up, especially since Ned’s back on his phone. Again.

Yesterday, everybody hung out for most of the afternoon, but being in the whole decathlon group isn’t the same as just being the four of us. Or two.

Speaking of two— Ned being away during this next week or two is going to make everything so… unfiltered. New. Without his interference and being able to talk to him as often as normal, it’ll mostly just be her and me. Nobody to distract attention or blame stuff on or help me out when I’m doing something dumb (which is often). Like, for example, last night when I maybe let my excitement get the better of me and I might’ve jumped on the bed and thrown a pillow that accidentally broke the lamp on the nightstand. While I don’t really think writing that “Bill Mr. Harrington” note with the school’s address was Ned’s best idea, it helped me not care too much, enough that I didn’t do something dumber like actually tell Mr. Harrington. It might come back to bite us, though. Still, he was genuinely helpful this morning when Flash showed up too.

While we were hanging out in the girls’ room waiting for them to finish packing, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was Mr. Harrington about to yell at me and Ned for the broken lamp, so I motioned to Ned to shut up and move closer to the head of the bed we were already sitting on where, courtesy of the wall between the bedroom and bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to see us as long as he stayed by the doorway. MJ gave us an odd glance before she got up to answer it. Her annoyed, “What are you doing here?” didn’t immediately disqualify Mr. Harrington, but the sound of Flash’s voice saying, “I, uh, brought you guys some muffins,” made me tense at the first syllable.

“The free muffins they give us for breakfast?”

MJ’s dripping sarcasm nearly made me laugh even though I couldn’t see her, but Y/N turning from her suitcase and walking over to join them killed it still in my throat.

“Nope,” he said. “They’re fancy muffins from a bakery a few miles away.”

I wanted to roll my eyes out of my skull.

She may not like him, but that doesn’t mean I was wrong about him being into her. What a dumb way to impress someone. “Fancy muffins.”

“Expensive?” MJ asked. Even without seeing her face, I could tell she was giving him the squint death stare. It’s scary to have to respond to that face if you don’t know what the right answer is.

“Yes, especially with the delivery fee,” he said, sounding prepared for the question, “but they’re from a small local place, not a chain, which I figured you guys would appreciate. Actually, I think you’d like the woman who owns it, she was super grouchy and hard to convince.”

“Convince?”

“They don’t normally deliver at 5 in the morning.”

“Oh, so you thought you could just—”

“What kind did you get?”

That’s one of the things I like about Y/N. She knows how to manage tempers and when to jump in; she has Flash and MJ down to a science. In that moment, though, I wanted MJ to fire her most confrontational questions at him with no mercy.

“Well, they’re all apology muffins—” I heard MJ scoff. Exactly. She gets it. “But I got blueberry, chocolate, obviously, coffee, cranberry orange, maple, I think that one has chicken in it or something, and banana nut.”

Ned and I turned towards each other with silent smirks at the last one. It’s a dumb joke, but under normal circumstances we’d never resist—

“Cool. Since you’ve brought so many, you can come in.”

Sometimes MJ drives me up the wall. This was one of those times.

I mentally took back my agreement with her scoff.

The three of them came into the room, and for a couple seconds, Flash didn’t see us. The girls were closer to the window than they were to the wall and the bed Ned and I were sitting on, and he didn’t look behind him. Until MJ pointed us out directly.

“You can give them some too,” she said, her expression bordering on smug. “Apology muffins, right?”

Flash froze for a second. I straightened my back. Neither Ned or I said anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.”

Surprisingly, he shook his shoulders like a bug just buzzed by his head and walked over, opening a giant rectangle of a box up to us.

“Take however many you guys want.”

I stared at him, not moving. Nobody flinched. Then I realized he was tapping the side of the box with his thumb. Not in an asshole come on, hurry up way, but in an anxious way. Just as I started to reach toward the box, Y/N asked:

“Why’d you get so many of the coffee ones?”

Flash looked away at just the right second.

Did I technically cave first by reaching into the box? Yes. But did anyone see? No.

Although, I guess he technically caved by offering us the muffins in the first place. Ha. All the same, I took a blueberry one.

“They’re my dad’s favorite. I wanted to surprise him, you know? But I can’t even get a hold of.... Um, are your guys’ parents going to pick you up when we get there, or are you actually staying for school?”

“Staying.”

“All of you?”

He looked around to ask all of us, even me and Ned. We all nodded. When he looked at me, though, his eyes twitched. It’s a face I’ve gotten a lot before. He realized he said parents.

“You said these are orange cranberry?” Ned asked, pointing.

Flash nodded.

“They’re solid, though the banana nut ones are probably the best.”

As I said, under normal circumstances, like if one of the girls had said it, I would’ve laughed right then, but I’m not used to laughing around Flash. Ned, who usually follows that same rule, shook his head and grinned, if a little bit... nervously?

“Hell no!” he said, pretending to be mildly outraged. “I’m not eating banana-bust-a-nut muffins.”

A second surprise: Flash tilted his head and paused, clearly as stunned to be told a joke by Ned as the rest of us were to witness it— and laughed. So did everyone else. It was only for a few seconds, like literally three quick seconds, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, all of us were laughing with Flash. It stopped almost as soon as it started.

Tension crept back in soon so he left pretty quickly after that with an awkward, “See you guys in a few.” Thank god.

The girls finished tidying their room and going over the homework that’s due today (which we did last week since we knew we’d never get it done on the trip), before forcing me and Ned into the hallway so Mr. Harrington wouldn’t need to check our room for us and potentially find the broken lamp.

And then, pretty soon, we ended up on the warm bus, loaded in with everyone else. It seemed like everybody but Ned and I were too quiet and sleepy and squinty to be able to talk much before dozing off or staring blankly out the window or scrolling social media on their phones, the latter two options leading to the first in most cases. At this point, I think Ned, Flash, and I are the only ones still awake.

I’m going to work at tolerating him. As long as he doesn’t cross any lines with anybody from now on, I won’t bait him either. (Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of that, especially recently.) I mean, his comment about his dad was hard to miss. And even when he said it, it wasn’t a shock. Everyone in our grade at some point has had to listen to Flash’s rambling excuses for his parents ignoring or forgetting to show up for school events. Maybe being a dick is just hereditary for him. Or a family tradition.

I don’t remember how I got so off track. Where was I before? Oh yeah. Risk. Possibilities. The almost-worst case scenario that turned out not so bad. It’s been a messy weekend with plenty of re-evaluating, but the point is simple: I think I’ve got to give a few new things a try, and I’m excited to have a chance over the next couple weeks.

Next update: God only knows.

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #marvel imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman x you #peter parker #tom holland

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professional-idiocy · 3 years

Text

On Thin Ice - pt. 4

You see when I took the break. I got a lot of energy to work on this again so here we have it much earlier than normal. WOW productivity plus I stopped listening during English classes and in Finland, it's just learning words that I already know. Also, I'm trying the new post editor so I don't know how this will go.

Pt. 1 - Masterlist - Next

CW: Mentions of torture, Colby's thoughts, Ellie's cat threatening Rosa. Please tell me if I have to add more ^^

Taglist: @whoopsalittlewhumpy, @cupcakes-and-pain, @uncooly-supreme-whump, @thegreathowdini

Kevin sighed in relief when the doorbell finally rang. Ellie was here to help him. He was so lost with everything and finally, he’d have someone who knew what they were doing. He gently woke up Colby who’d curled up at the opposite end of the couch clinging to a blanket he’d given to him.

He smiled at the memory of how amazed and grateful Colby had looked when he’d been given the blanket. He’d treated it like a prized treasure that shouldn’t even be given to him. It broke his heart, but it also made him want to protect Colby more.

The doorbell rang again, and Kevin rushed to the door, glad to see it really was Ellie. He did have someone he didn’t recognize with him, but it didn’t matter. He smiled letting them both in.

“Thanks for coming. I’ve been completely lost this whole time” Kevin said as Ellie smiled warmly not judging him at all as the man behind her scoffed, but it was quickly quieted by Ellie nudging him with her elbow.

“You still did well, since he seems to be doing decently” Ellie said gesturing towards Colby who was watching them warily.

“I hope you don’t mind that Blake came too” Ellie asked pointing to the man behind him who just nodded at Kevin. He awkwardly nodded back, something made him uneasy around Blake.

“Do you mind if I go catch up with the kid while you talk?” Blake asked his face twisting with worry. “He looks more uncertain than normal”

“Wait you know him?” Kevin asked tensely when as Blake chuckled his appearance subtly changing into all too familiar villain that had disappeared years ago. He watched silently as Mimic just looked back at him clearly enjoying the surprise.

“Well, yes. I’m a retired villain after all” He said smugly as Ellie smiled fondly, before ruffling Blake’s hair as the retired villain turned all red and looked away. Kevin just watched in a mix of surprise and fear. It did explain why she was so willing to help Colby.

“You’re always such a dramatic cat but I’m sure Colby could use a familiar face” Ellie said, before turning to Kevin who just looked at him in slight confusion.

“I know Blake is a bit surprising, but I’ll teach you how to properly take care of injuries since copying from TV shows is honestly a terrible idea. They’re wildly inaccurate. Like seriously who forgets chest compressions! That’s like the most important part!”

“Yeah, sorry… Let’s go into the kitchen to talk” Kevin said awkwardly as Ellie just smiled.

“Don’t worry not everyone is a doctor but NEVER attempt to do anything without proper knowhow especially with medicine. Text me or google it before doing anything”

Kevin just nodded continuing on. He hadn’t expected that

Colby watched in surprise as the man who’d come along with Miss Doctor had been Mimic. He’d disappeared years back and never reappeared. He’d worked together with him a few times and he was always surprisingly nice for a hired killer. It was relieving to see Mimic doing well. At least he hadn’t been caught.

“Hey, kid” Mimic said sitting next to him, Colby beamed at the old nickname.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that” Mimic mumbled awkwardly scratching the back of his head as Colby watched smiling softly. It was reassuring to have someone you knew around. Mimic had taught him a lot back then, but he’d never been the best at showing how he felt. They sat there in silence for a long time before Mimic continued.

“I know you’ll have a hard time, but I promise you don’t have to worry about Ellie. She’s really nice and doesn’t judge. It’s the reason I married her actually” Mimic said softly being all awkward as Colby chuckled at it.

“It’s fine. I know I deserved it”

Mimic smiled sadly at that. “Yeah, we’ve done fucked up things but you’re a kid. You shouldn’t think like that”

“You do know I’m 23, right? You’re ancient if you think that”

“Hey, I’m only 30, that makes me young enough” Mimic said pouting as Ellie laughed at Colby’s comment walking from the kitchen. Mimic ruffled his hair before getting up and finding a wall to lean against as Ellie sat next to him.

Colby watched as Mimic zeroed in on Kevin and threw a hand around his shoulder, taking him into the kitchen. Ellie shook his head smiling fondly before turning to him.

“Nice to meet you, Colby. I’m Ellie Walker” She said with a smile as Colby watched meekly before nodding. Ellie seemed nice enough. Mimic trusted her so she should be nice.

“I know you’re a bit nervous so how about we make a deal” Colby tilted his head curiously. No one had really made deals with him before, so it felt strange.

“Blake told me you liked chocolate so I brought some with me” She said taking out so much chocolate that he couldn’t even believe it. “You can have it all if you promise to be honest with me. If something hurts or feels slightly off you tell me, alright?” Colby nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course, it was her! Kevin Mills and Rosa Mills. No wonder you got Colby out without getting killed. Your psychopathic sister did this to him. Fuck that bitch for torturing a child! Even I’ve never hurt a kid” Blake said storming out the kitchen as Colby tensed in fear.

“I’m going to stab her”

“No stabbing” Ellie said making him freeze, before turning to her.

“what about a non-lethal poke?”

“That’s the same thing but look at what you’ve done. Colby is terrified right now” Blake turned to look at her before flinching as soon as he saw Colby looking at him in fear.

“Sorry, I think I’m just gonna sit in the car for a while. To uh- calm down” Blake explained awkwardly as Ellie smiled softly before shaking her head.

“I know you’re worried about Colby but that’s not the greatest way to show it” Blake nodded as Ellie seemed so understanding and kind. Colby’s eyes widened. Alaric would’ve been mad, very mad but she just calmly explained it!

“How about you help Kevin understand Colby better? You’ve known him the longest” Blake nodded quietly turning to Kevin as he just shrugged walking into the kitchen.

Ellie smiled at Colby sitting back down. “Sorry about his outburst. He cares about you but as you probably know he’s bad at showing how he feels”

“I know.” Colby said softly “You’re really nice, you know that right?” He piped up as Ellie smiled warmly. This would help him get back to Alaric.

“You’re really nice too. So where does it hurt?” Ellie smiled warmly and Colby just could feel himself melting. She just- she just was so nice. He just watched as she waited and waited. Shit, he needed to tell her!

“Everywhere but mostly my right ankle. I can’t walk because it refuses to work with me” He said in a hurry hoping Ellie wasn’t mad. He’d wasted time and- he shuddered at the memory of how it led to- Don’t think it, don’t think it. Just focus on the current event.

“I see, can I take a look?” Colby nodded without hesitation closing his eyes hoping it would just be over. Ellie kept poking and prodding as he answered questions and she did doctor things. He didn’t know anything about medicine, and it didn’t bother him. Mimic trusted her so he could trust her too.

She moved to inspecting the injuries and taking care of them. He kept answering the questions she asked but they didn’t make much sense to him. He just answered truthfully since it probably would help him get to Alaric faster.

“There you go” She said finishing the last bandage Colby watched her curiously “And here as we agreed the chocolate is all yours” Ellie said as she pushed the chocolate to him. He smiled gathering it all up and hiding it underneath his blanket.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Kevin asked as he walked in with Blake in tow who immediately found a wall to lean against as Ellie turned to them with a smile.

“We’re all done here Colby seems fine, but you need to clean the wounds regularly, so they don’t get infected and watch out for the sprained ankle” She stated packing up her stuff before pausing and turning to Colby.

“Mostly I’m concerned how the welts on your soles didn’t bother you. It would explain why you couldn’t walk when combined with the ankle” Ellie said as Colby’s eyes widened as he flinched. Kevin bit his lip in worry. He should’ve noticed!

“Sorry. I didn’t think it was that serious. It was just that one time I tried to escape and I- I learned my lesson” He muttered softly as he fiddled with the hem of the shirt Kevin had lent to him.

“Please don’t take the chocolate. I really want to keep it” Colby said softly, sounding panicked, but Ellie just ruffled his hair with a smile.

“It’s fine you’ve earned it” She looked at the clock before smiling, quickly packing a bunch of stuff, handing Blake the stuff she’d packed.

“We sadly need to get going” She said getting up before wandering around for anything she might’ve forgotten before turning to Kevin.

“Kevin, memorize the stuff I wrote down for you. It’ll be better than constantly looking at the stuff” She said leaving as Blake smiled fondly at her antics, before following behind her.

Colby and Kevin just stayed there in silence before Kevin sat down next to him. Colby just carefully took two of the chocolate bars resting his head on Kevin’s shoulder nuzzling close. He handed Kevin one of the bars before beginning to eat his own.

He closed his eyes pulling the blanket up before melting in pure bliss. He liked these silent moments of comfort. Best of all Kevin had accepted the chocolate meaning he’d done well and didn’t have to worry about Kevin getting mad for a while.

#whump #original writing #original whump #my writing #on thin ice #civilian caretaker #villain whumpee #villain whump #whump writing #you're stuck in here with me pal #torture mention tw #Colby x chocolate is the one true ship :3 #I've already written pt 6 so now I just need to write pt 5 #i love how my writing isn't chronological at all #now quickly before I start to regret this decision

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clockwork-fayz · 3 years

Text

The Most Perfect Proposal Chapter 2:

I am so sorry I took forever to write this

Chapter One AO3

“Matteo? What are you doing here?” Gastón asked, “Are you finally going to ask Luna to marry you after all these years?!?”

“I could ask you the same questions,” Matteo replied to his friend. “Are you ring shopping?”

“ Sí , I decided I cannot wait any longer.”

Matteo grinned, reaching out to embrace Gastón . “Congratulations hermano, do you have any idea what kind of ring you are going to get Nina?”

Gastón shook his head. “No clue. There are so many!”

Matteo nodded. “I feel the same. I can’t find one that screams Luna!”

The boys peered into the case, frowning at the selection when they heard a familiar voice behind them.

“Well, funny running into you two here!”

They turned to see Simon walking towards them, a huge grin on his face.

“Hola Simón , don’t tell me you are planning to propose to Ámbar as well?”

Simón lit up. “ Sí , how did you know? What are you picking out rings?”

“ Sí ,” Matteo laughed, “It seems like we all have the same idea.”

“This is so exciting! Congratulations!” Simón said, giving them hugs. “Do you know how you are going to ask them?”

Gastón shook his head. “I want it to be very meaningful but I don’t know how yet. It needs to be perfect.”

“Agreed,” Matteo said, “But I have to go all out. Luna wouldn’t expect any less from me.”

“Maybe we could help each other out,” Simón said, “With the three of us working together, we are sure to pull off some epic proposals.”

Matteo and Gastón liked the idea. The task ahead of them was daunting: they only had one shot to get this perfect.

“How about we meet at the Jam and Roller tomorrow and we can discuss ideas,” Gastón suggested. Simón shook his head.

“ Ámbar will find out. It has to be a total surprise. Let’s meet at Casa de Java. I don’t think anyone we know will see us there.”

It was agreed upon and the next day they met at the coffee shop that was thankfully almost empty.

“I’ve wanted to marry Luna for years now,” Matteo told them the next day, “but we always seemed on the road and busy. But now that we’ve settled into Buenos Aires for a little bit, I feel like the timing is right.”

“ Sí ,” Simón agreed, “Now just seems right. We have a nice place, we both have good jobs, and the other day I was wondering what else could you be waiting for Simón ? You have loved this girl from day one!”

“I realized that I cannot let Nina go again,” Gastón piped up, “She is my everything and I want to make it official.”

“But neither of you have the ring yet?” Simón asked, pointing at the other two. Both guys shook their heads.

“I’ve looked everywhere,” Matteo complained, “But I need something that screams Luna. I am even considering going custom made.”

Simón agreed. “Luna is going to want something unique for sure. Ámbar though? I have no idea where to start. We have talked about it a couple of times and she always says that no matter what ring I get her, she will be happy but I want to get her something she will love. Something that will sparkle on her finger too, to warn off any hombres looking at her.”

“That is a good plan,” Gastón said, “I am going to get Nina something the exact opposite. Something simple that doesn’t draw attention but if you were to notice it you would think: That is one beautiful ring! My only problem is that I need to find out what ring size she is and I don’t know how.”

The other two froze as realization dawned on their faces. Gastón laughed. “You do want the ring to fit right?”

Matteo fumbled with his words. “ Sí , Sí . I was going to check on that. Luna has a hundred rings, I should be able to find out the size easily….it says on rings what size they are, sí ?”

Simón chuckled. “Most don’t hermano, we are going to have to be more creative.”

“I’ll google it,” Gastón said, pulling out his phone.

“I am glad you said something, Gastón ,” Simón said, “I would have found the perfect ring and then not known what size to order.”

“Denada, now we could use floss to measure their finger-”

“Que?” Matteo exclaimed, “Imagine trying to do that without explanation.”

“Luna wakes up and you have wrapped around her finger,” Simón grinned.

“You say ‘Perdon, Ámbar ? Can you stick out your finger for una secunda,” Matteo joked back.

“Or,” Gastón interjected. “We can steal a ring they already have and measure it with a ruler.”

“Sounds much easier,” laughed Matteo. “Let’s go with that one! By next week we should know the girls’ ring sizes and hopefully have a ring. Be looking out for one that screams Luna, ok?”

The three parted ways, making plans to meet again at the coffee shop the following week with updated news.

…..

“Matteo? Have you seen my silver infinity ring?”

Matteo cursed silently. Out of all the rings that she had, she wanted to wear the one that he had snuck out of her jewelry box this morning and into his pocket. He was going to have to measure it right now and get it back or else she was going to think she lost it and then get frustrated with herself like she always did when she was forgetful.

“No,” Matteo shouted back, “Have you checked the bedroom?” He silently tried to think where they would keep a ruler in this place.

“ Sí , that’s where I am doofus! I could have sworn it was in this jewelry box yesterday!”

“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. When is the last time you wore it?”

Matteo scrambled around the kitchen, but couldn’t find a ruler.

“I think it was when we went to the new rollerskate line launch,” Luna said, walking out of the bedroom. She paused. “What are you doing?”

Matteo froze from where he was digging in their junk drawer. “Looking for your ring, what else?”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “I know I put things in weird spots, but I don’t think it would be in there.

Matteo raised his hands defensively, “Hey you never know, I once found your cell phone in the refrigerator.”

“That’s because I was putting away the take out-ugh! Nevermind, I can’t believe that I lost it!”

Matteo went over and put his hand on her shoulders. “I am sure it’s somewhere in this apartment. You go check the bathroom, I’ll check the sofa.”

Luna pouted and turned around to head back towards the bathroom. As soon as she was out of sight, Matteo darted back into the kitchen. He got out a sticky note and a pen, tracing the inside of the ring before shoving the sticky note in his pocket.

“Here it is mi amor!” he shouted, heading towards the bathroom, holding the “missing” ring up. Luna came out and sighed as she took it from him.

“Gracias Matteo, it was in the sofa?”

“Under it, must have fell.”

Luna slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek, turning back to the bedroom to finish getting ready. Matteo’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

It was a text from Gastón saying that Matteo needed to come to a store across town as soon as he could. Matteo waited until Luna left for work before leaving as well to meet Gastón .

“They have a lot of unique rings here,” Gastón said when Matteo walked into the store, “I am sure that you will find one for Luna.”

It didn’t take long to see that Gastón was right. Matteo shoved the sticky note at the sales clerk.

“I like that ring. Will it fit this sized finger?”

….

It was much easier for Simón to get Ambar’s ring size, but it was much harder to find a ring that he liked for her. There were many pretty rings, but nothing seemed to be perfect for her. He wanted something that was not too complex, but also fit Ambar’s personality. She was a fashion icon in the world, and she needed a ring on her finger to match.

It came to him one night that he was not going to find a ring that he liked anywhere in Buenos Aires. Probably not anywhere in Argentina. So he did the only thing he could do.

He videochatted his cousin as his cousin went through the fanciest jewelry store in Cancun.

“Oooh, this one is gorgeous!” his cousin gushed, “I think that a Kardashian had one just like this!”

“ Ámbar is not like a Kardashion! Also I am not made of money, Isa.”

His cousin brought him around, having the jeweler pull out a couple so Isa could hold them close to the camera. Finally, something sparkled in the camera and Simon immediately said, “What is that one? In the corner?”

It was elegant. It was beautiful. And it was very sparkly.

“Perfecto! I love it so much!”

“Love what?”

Simón had not heard Ámbar enter the front door. She sat down her bags and went to walk over to where Simón was sitting. On the screen his cousin quickly turned the camera on her and stood in a place where you could not tell where she was.

“ Ámbar , you are home so early! I am talking with mi prima, Isa.”

Ámbar sat on the couch next to Simon. “Hola Isa, como estas?”

“Bien Ámbar , hope you are well. I was just showing Simón …..my outfit! I am going to an interview and wanted to know if it looked okay.”

“ Sí , and I said it looked great,” Simón interjected, “I loved it for an interview…”

“Oh Isa, you know you can always ask me for advice on fashion,” Ámbar said, “you know that Simon only wears the same three t-shirts.”

Isa gave a nervous smile. “Sí Ámbar, pero...I thought you might be busy! So I called Simón- oh no. It looks like my phone is dying by guys. Love you!”

The call ended and Ámbar looked up confused. “I didn’t even get to see her outfit. What is she interviewing for? I thought she was going to University.”

Simón searched for a plausible answer. “She was interviewing for….a part time job to pay for school...as a secretary! But she doesn’t even know if she really wants it.”

“I see,” Ámbar said slowly, but decided to drop it. “Monica messaged and said that they are making a big dinner tonight. Shall we go?”

“ Sí , let’s do that,” Simón replied, relieved that they were moving on from the topic. He quickly typed out on his phone “That’s the one, have it shipped to me as soon as they can!””.

….

Gastón hated keeping things from Nina. He was also terrible at keeping things from Nina. Which is why he changed the hiding spot of the ring he had gotten her at least a dozen times.

It took him the least amount of time to find a ring out of the three guys. He knew exactly what he was looking for when he walked into the jewelers and with help of the sales assistant he was able to pick out the perfect ring in a matter of a couple of hours.

Currently it was sitting in the large slow cooker in the cupboard that Nina had never touched in all the time that they had been living together.

Of course now was the day that she decided it needed to be used.

“ Gastón , will you help me get down the slow cooker?” Nina shouted from where she was standing looking up at it.

A look of panic crossed Gastón’s face from where he was watching a show on his phone. He tried to keep his cool.

“What do you need the slow cooker for?” he asked, walking over to her.

“Luna asked to use it, she is going to try to make some authentic Mexicana dishes!”

Gastón had to think quickly. “Can she use her mom’s? I don’t think our slow cooker even works. When did you even get this?”

Nina shrugged. “Someone gave it to me as a present once I think. Let’s see if it works. Could you reach it for me, por favor?”

Gastón’s palms were sweaty. He reached to grab it, but then stopped, acting as if he just realized something.

“Oh right, Nina. Could you go get the mail for me? I am waiting on a...letter from my tia in England.”

Nina looked at him, suspicious. “Okay...right now?”

Gastón kissed her on the cheek. “ Sí , I am looking forward to receiving it.”

Nina backed away slowly, watching Gastón as she headed towards the door. His smile was plastered on his face as he slowly reached up for the slow cooker.

“Gracias mi amor,” he said as she finally opened the door to leave. He waited a few beats after she left to make sure that she really was going down to the mail before quickly pulling down the slow cooker, grabbing the box with the ring in it and shoving it inside the flour canister. Then he plugged in the slow cooker to see the light turn on red. The front door opened and Nina held a few envelopes.

“Here it is,” she said, handing it to Gastón . Gastón’s eyes grew wide, not expecting to actually have a letter from his Tia. She gave a nervous laugh.

“ Gastón , are you okay? You are acting strangely.”

Gastón relaxed his muscles and kissed Nina quickly. “Everything is great. Look, it does work. Let’s bring it over to Luna and Matteo’s now.”

Later that night, when Nina was in the shower, Gastón took it out of the flour canister and dusted it off. The ring inside was still clean. He hid it in it’s final hiding spot, in his luggage at the top of the closet, where at least once a day Gastón would take it down so he could look at it.

….

Two weeks later the guys met up to set up the plans for each proposal. Dates were set, lists were made, budgets were constructed that were sure to be broken and confidants were called upon to help where needed.

On the first weekend they were going to set up Simón’s romantic and intimate proposal that was sure to knock Ámbar off her feet.

A few weeks later would be Matteo’s elaborate and spectacular proposal that would take a lot of planning and choreography.

Finally, Gastón’s special gathering of their closest friends was to happen last , on the holiday weekend when everyone would gather at the Mansion for a party.

It was going to take effort from all three of them to pull this off, but each of them had never been more sure of anything in their lives.

#soy Luna #lutteo #simbar #gastina

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purple-phantoms · 3 years

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Happiest Place on Earth

Modern!Reggie Peters x Gender-Neutral!Reader, Luke Patterson x Alex Mercer

Based off of: #95 from my bucket list, Spend the whole day at Magic Kingdom

A/N: This was requested by @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic ! This is mostly going to be based off of research and memory. I’ve been to Magic Kingdom before, but only when I was 7 so I barely remember anything. In school a couple years ago I used to plan out which hotel I was going to stay in and which rides I wanted to go on lol. It’s such a shame that the pandemic had to hit. Also I’m basing this off of Disney World in Florida because I’m more familiar with that one. This is super long and not great, but hope you like it!

Summary: Y/n, Alex, Luke, and Reggie spend the day at Disney’s Magic Kingdom. Y/n and Reggie stay together while Luke and Alex pair up. Both groups try to hide their relationships from the other, until everything magically unfolds.

Masterlist

For reference, if you’ve never been to Disney World and have no idea what the rides are, I’m including links to pictures I used to write this.

For “Peter Pan’s Flight”: Youtube video, Google Images link

For “Be Our Guest”: Disney World website, Pinterest image

For “Pirates of the Caribbean”: Youtube video

For “Splash Mountain”: TikTok from Pinterest, Youtube video

The warm sun rose on the concrete. Thousands of people lined up outside the gates to purchase their tickets for the giant themepark. Them and the boys waited anxiously. They were just about to get to buy their tickets but there was a giant family of 7 in front of them. It felt like years before they called the next people. It felt like centuries before they were allowed to enter the paradise. The four of them split up into pairs; Alex and Luke, and Y/n and Reggie. They wanted to go their separate ways and go on all the rides possible and occasionally meet up to get food and relax.

The first stop for y/n and Reggie was to Cinderella’s castle for pictures. Reggie dragged them by the hand to get as close to the castle, pushing past a lot of people in the process. In their bag was a polaroid camera. It probably wasn’t the best idea to bring something like that to a theme park where it could easily be misplaced or stolen, but memories, right? Y/n took pictures of Reggie first. He did some poses both facing away from the castle and facing the castle. Next was y/n’s turn. Now, y/n was smart. They bought some Disney related things way before the trip. They bought Mickey Mouse earrings and ears for their outfit. Y/n did the same as Reggie and took pictures facing away and towards the castle.

Next stop was to It’s a Small World in Fantasyland. Y/n and Reggie sat in the boat together and swayed to the music as they started moving in the ride. The animatronics were cool but really creepy at the same time. “What if one of those just exploded like in a sci-fi movie,” y/n laughed. Most times y/n was capable of correctly anticipating what would come next in a ride. They could tell that this was just a chill ride, but it’s always fun to imagine the unlikely.

“If that happens, you should just snatch one of them up, and then we just have to run,” Reggie smiled as they laughed. Y/n and Reggie were always the ones in the group who thought that way. Obviously, they wouldn’t actually do that, but that doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be cool if they did.

Next they went to Peter Pan’s flight. Peter Pan had always been one of Reggie’s favorite characters because of his youth. Obviously before getting in line y/n had to take a picture of Reggie. God, he was gorgeous.

The wait was longer than what they had expected but it was worth it. The scenery was a beautiful sight. When they finally got to the end of the line, they gingerly entered their cart. The ride was chill like the one they had been on before. Reggie kissed y/n on the cheek before laying his head on y/n’s shoulder as they travelled through Neverland. All the animatronics looked so life-like and accurate to the movie. It would be crazy not to take just a few pictures.

The pair got off the ride and went on to the next one, then the next one, until they got hungry. Reggie texted Luke and Alex to find a place to meet up. They decided on the Be Our Guest restaurant. Once they all arrived, they felt underdressed. The restaurant looked exactly how you’d expect it to if you were living in the castle. The walls and tiles were yellow and blue, and the ceiling was painted with a renaissance-like picture.

“You guys seriously couldn’t have picked a more low-key place to eat?” Luke grumbled. This kind of thing had never been his style. He “hated” talking about the Disney princesses, he said they were too “feminine” for him.

“We came for the vibe, not the reality, loser,” Alex said. Reggie and y/n shook their heads. Sitting down for a little bit was quite refreshing. All 4 of them ate all the food they ordered, and it was a lot. But hey, they need their energy!

They sat in a little silence as they waited for their bill to arrive. They were all ready to go on more rides, but also ready for a nap. It’s too bad they were only spending the day there. A kick to the foot knocked y/n out of their daydream. “Ow,” they shouted.

“Oh sorry,” Alex said. “Me and Luke are going to be right back.” Y/n and Reggie looked at each other and laughed.

“Reggie, get your friends,” y/n laughed. Alex and Luke had been like this for a while now, and it was a little weird.

“I think they just went to take pictures,” Reggie shrugged. Y/n laughed.

“Yeah, of each other’s lips,” y/n said. Alex and Luke being a couple was always a theory that y/n and Reggie would talk about. After all, most times movie nights are with a group of people, not just with one person. Well it’s not like y/n and Reggie could speak on that either. They didn’t want Alex and Reggie to know about their relationship because they just wanted to keep it to themselves.

Then the couple pair came back. Alex looked completely normal while Luke’s shirt was super wrinkled.... like as if someone was grabbing at it.

“So where did you two go,” y/n asked with a smirk. Bothering Alex when he’s flustered was always a funny sight. He would never be able to say a single thing without chuckling or running his fingers through his hair.

“We uh-” Luke had to pause to think. “We went to go find a map.” Then he pulled one out of his back pocket, which he totally had way before. Le-let’s go on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride,” He stuttered.

“Thought you don’t like that stuff,” Reggie smiled.

“Well now I do,” Luke said as he grabbed his stuff.

The walk to Adventureland was long, but funny. Reggie couldn’t stop talking about that one time he dressed up as Jack Sparrow for y/n’s costume party last year. The same costume party where y/n and Reggie expressed their feelings for each other. The same costume party where they purposely hid in the closet so that nobody would know that they were officially together. The same costume party that nobody knew the full story about. “Guys, it literally was like 7 minutes in heaven,” Reggie beamed. “I felt like I could’ve gotten married right there.”

“Hey Reggie, do you remember how we agreed to not talk about that party,” y/n lied. They never had an actual agreement. Y/n just thought that neither of them would get close to exposing the truth.

“No, y/n,” Alex put his hand up. “I want to hear this one.” Y/n gave Reggie the look, hoping he’d understand and stop talking. He didn’t.

“Are you and this person still together,” Luke asked. Stop egging him on!!

“Obviously,” Reggie smirked as he put his arm around them.

“WHAT!” Alex and Luke yelled at the same time.

“I knew it, I knew it!” Alex cheered.

“Can you guys shut up?” Y/n grumbled.

“Yeah, are you guys going to get on the ride,” the operator asked. Woops.

“My bad, y/n,” Reggie whispered.

“It’s fine,” y/n said.

“It’s not fine,” Luke yelled. “This is huge, why didn’t you tell us?”

“You know what, Luke,” y/n turned around to face him. “In this ride there are probably real skeletons being used as props. If you don’t leave me alone I will donate yours to this ride when you die.” Luke sat back in his seat and fell silent. Saying things like that always worked with the guys.

When they got to the battle part, Reggie reached to hold y/n’s hand in his. Y/n squeezed his. They weren’t mad at him, they already knew Reggie was an airhead. This would have happened one way or another.

The four of them decided to go on Splash Mountain next. Y/n did this on purpose. They knew none of the boys knew that they’d get splashed on the ride. Perfect payback.

“Luke and Alex, I think you guys should sit in the front for this one,” y/n smiled.

“Why,” Alex asked.

“What, you don’t want to be the first ones to see everything,” y/n said sarcastically. The two boys shrugged in response.

They got into the raft with Luke and Alex sitting in the front and Reggie and y/n sitting right behind them. “So why are they sitting in the front,” Reggie whispered to them.

“It’s so that they’ll get splashed the most,” y/n laughed. And they did. On the first drop, they were moving their soaking wet hair out of the way of their eyes and screaming profanities. It didn’t help that there were little kids on the raft with parents yelling back at them to stop cursing. Y/n and Reggie sat back and laughed as their friends got soaked.

Luke and Alex were mad when they got off the ride and saw that y/n and Reggie were completely dry. “Y/n you did this on purpose,” Alex shouted.

“Yeah, I did,” y/n laughed. “So when were you guys going to tell us that you were dating?”

Alex and Luke’s jaws looked like they were going to hit the floor. “How did you know?” Alex asked

“You guys literally left us to go make out,” Reggie pointed out.

“Riiiiight,” Luke blushed.

“Yeah, so Reggie and I are going to go do ‘official couple’ things like go find Mickey and Minnie,” y/n smiled. “Let’s go, Reg.”

Taglist:

@flashoe @carnationcreation @camihoran00 @joyjoyner @prongsy-parker

Add yourself to my taglist!

#reggie jatp x reader #reggie imagine #reggie x reader #reggie nolastname #reggie peters x reader #luke patterson x alex #luke x alex #luke patterson x alex mercer #reggie julie and the phantoms #reggie peters #luke patterson #alex nolastname #alex jatp #alex mercer #gender neutral insert #julie and the phantoms #disney world #purple-phantoms

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holyhellpod · 3 years

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Holy Hell: 3. Metanarrativity: Who’s the Deleuze and who’s the Guattari in your relationship? aka the analysis no one asked for.

In this ep, we delve into authorship, narrative, fandom and narrative meaning. And somehow, as always, bring it back to Cas and Misha Collins.

(Note: the reason I didn’t talk about Billie’s authorship and library is because I completely forgot it existed until I watched season 13 “Advanced Thanatology” again, while waiting for this episode to upload. I’ll find a way to work her into later episodes tho!)

I had to upload it as a new podcast to Spotify so if you could just re-subscribe that would be great! Or listen to it at these other links.

Please listen to the bit at the beginning about monetisation and if you have any questions don’t hesitate to message me here.

Apple | Spotify | Google

Transcript under the cut!

Warnings: discussions of incest, date rape, rpf, war, 9/11, the bush administration, abuse, mental health, addiction, homelessness. Most of these are just one off comments, they’re not full discussions.

Meta-Textuality: Who’s the Deleuze and who’s the Guattari in your relationship?

In the third episode of Season 6, “The Third Man,” Balthazar says to Cas, “you tore up the whole script and burned the pages.” That is the fundamental idea the writers of the first five seasons were trying to sell us: whatever grand plan the biblical God had cooking up is worth nothing in face of the love these men have—for each other and the world. Sam, Bobby, Cas and Dean will go to any lengths to protect one another and keep people safe. What’s real? What’s worth saving? People are real. Families are worth saving.

This show plugs free will as the most important thing a person, angel, demon or otherwise can have. The fact of the matter is that Dean was always going to fight against the status quo, Sam was always going to go his own way, and Bobby was always going to do his best for his boys. The only uncertainty in the entire narrative is Cas. He was never meant to rebel. He was never meant to fall from Heaven. He was supposed to fall in line, be a good soldier, and help bring on the apocalypse, but Cas was the first agent of free will in the show’s timeline. Sam followed Lucifer, Dean followed Michael, and John gave himself up for the sins of his children, at once both a God and Jesus figure. But Cas wasn’t modelled off anyone else. He is original. There are definitely some parallels to Ruby, but I would argue those are largely unintentional. Cas broke the mold.

That’s to say nothing of the impact he’s had on the fanbase, and the show itself, which would not have reached 15 seasons and be able to end the way they wanted it to without Cas and Misha Collins. His back must be breaking from carrying the entire show.

But what the holy hell are we doing here today? Not just talking about Cas. We’re talking about metanarrativity: as I define it, and for purposes of this episode, the story within a story, and the act of storytelling. We’re going to go through a select few episodes which I think exemplify the best of what this show has to offer in terms of framing the narrative. We’ll talk about characters like Chuck and Becky and the baby dykes in season 10. And most importantly we’ll talk about the audience’s role, our role, in the reciprocal relationship of storytelling. After all, a tv show is nothing without the viewer.

I was in fact introduced to the concept of metanarrativity by Supernatural, so the fact that I’m revisiting it six years after I finished my degree to talk about the show is one of life’s little jokes.

I’m brushing off my degree and bringing out the big guns (aka literary theorists) to examine this concept. This will be yet another piece of analysis that would’ve gone well in my English Lit degree, but I’ll try not to make it dry as dog shit.

First off, I’m going to argue that the relationship between the creators of Supernatural and the fans has always been a dialogue, albeit with a power imbalance. Throughout the series, even before explicitly metanarrative episodes like season 10 “Fan Fiction” and season 4 “the monster at the end of this book,” the creators have always engaged in conversations with the fans through the show. This includes but is not limited to fan conventions, where the creators have actual, live conversations with the fans. Misha Collins admitted at a con that he’d read fanfiction of Cas while he was filming season 4, but it’s pretty clear even from the first season that the creators, at the very least Eric Kripke, were engaging with fans. The show aired around the same time as Twitter and Tumblr were created, both of which opened up new passageways for fans to interact with each other, and for Twitter and Facebook especially, new passageways for fans to interact with creators and celebrities.

But being the creators, they have ultimate control over what is written, filmed and aired, while we can only speculate and make our own transformative interpretations. But at least since s4, they have engaged in meta narrative construction that at once speaks to fans as well as expands the universe in fun and creative ways. My favourite episodes are the ones where we see the Winchesters through the lens of other characters, such as the season 3 episode “Jus In Bello,” in which Sam and Dean are arrested by Victor Henriksen, and the season 7 episode “Slash Fiction” in which Dean and Sam’s dopplegangers rob banks and kill a bunch of people, loathe as I am to admit that season 7 had an effect on any part of me except my upchuck reflex. My second favourite episodes are the meta episodes, and for this episode of Holy Hell, we’ll be discussing a few: The French Mistake, he Monster at the end of this book, the real ghostbusters, Fan Fiction, Metafiction, and Don’t Call Me Shurley. I’ll also discuss Becky more broadly, because, like, of course I’ll be discussing Becky, she died for our sins.

Let’s take it back. The Monster At The End Of This Book — written by Julie Siege and Nancy Weiner and directed by Mike Rohl. Inarguably one of the better episodes in the first five seasons. Not only is Cas in it, looking so beautiful, but Sam gets something to do, thank god, and it introduces the character of Chuck, who becomes a source of comic relief over the next two seasons. The episode starts with Chuck Shurley, pen named Carver Edlund after my besties, having a vision while passed out drunk. He dreams of Sam and Dean larping as Feds and finding a series of books based on their lives that Chuck has written. They eventually track Chuck down, interrogate him, and realise that he’s a prophet of the lord, tasked with writing the Winchester Gospels. The B plot is Sam plotting to kill Lilith while Dean fails to get them out of the town to escape her. The C plot is Dean and Cas having a moment that strengthens their friendship and leads further into Cas’s eventual disobedience for Dean. Like the movie Disobedience. Exactly like the movie Disobedience. Cas definitely spits in Dean’s mouth, it’s kinda gross to be honest. Maybe I’m just not allo enough to appreciate art.

When Eric Kripke was showrunner of the first five seasons of Supernatural, he conceptualised the character of Chuck. Kripke as the author-god introduced the character of the author-prophet who would later become in Jeremy Carver’s showrun seasons the biblical God. Judith May Fathallah writes in “I’m A God: The Author and the Writing Fan in Supernatural” that Kripke writes himself both into and out of the text, ending his era with Chuck winking at the camera, saying, “nothing really ends,” and disappearing. Kripke stayed on as producer, continuing to write episodes through Sera Gamble’s era, and was even inserted in text in the season 6 episode “The French Mistake”. So nothing really does end, not Kripke’s grip on the show he created, not even the show itself, which fans have jokingly referred to as continuing into its 16th season. Except we’re not joking. It will die when all of us are dead, when there is no one left to remember it. According to W R Fisher, humans are homo narrans, natural storytellers. The Supernatural fandom is telling a fidelitous narrative, one which matches our own beliefs, values and experiences instead of that of canon. Instead of, at Fathallah says, “the Greek tradition, that we should struggle to do the right thing simply because it is right, though we will suffer and be punished anyway,” the fans have created an ending for the characters that satisfies each and every one of our desires, because we each create our own endings. It’s better because we get to share them with each other, in the tradition of campfire stories, each telling our own version and building upon the others. If that’s not the epitome of mythmaking then I don’t know. It’s just great. Dean and Cas are married, Eileen and Sam are married, Jack is sometimes a baby who Claire and Kaia are forced to babysit, Jody and Donna are gonna get hitched soon. It’s season 17, time for many weddings, and Kevin Tran is alive. Kripke, you have no control over this anymore, you crusty hag.

Chuck is introduced as someone with power, but not influence over the story, only how the story is told through the medium of the novels. It’s basically a very badly written, non authorised biography, and Charlie reading literally every book and referencing things she should have no knowledge of is so damn creepy and funny. At first Chuck is surprised by his characters coming to life, despite having written it already, and when shown the intimidating array of weapons in Baby’s trunk he gets real scared. Which is the appropriate response for a skinny 5-foot-8 white guy in a bathrobe who writes terrible fantasy novels for a living.

As far as I can remember, this is the first explicitly metanarrative episode in the series, or at least the first one with in world consequences. It builds upon the lore of Christianity, angels, and God, while teasing what’s to come. Chuck and Sam have a conversation about how the rest of the season is going to play out, and Sam comes away with the impression that he’ll go down with the ship. They touch on Sam’s addiction to demon blood, which Chuck admits he didn’t write into the books, because in the world of supernatural, addiction should be demonised ha ha at every opportunity, except for Dean’s alcoholism which is cool and manly and should never be analysed as an unhealthy trauma coping mechanism.

Chuck is mostly impotent in the story of Sam and Dean, but his very presence presents an element of good luck that turns quickly into a force of antagonism in the series four finale, “Lucifer Rising”, when the archangel Raphael who defeats Lilith in this episode also kills Cas in the finale. It’s Cas’s quick thinking and Dean’s quick doing that resolve the episode and save them from Lilith, once again proving that free will is the greatest force in the universe. Cas is already tearing up pages and burning scripts. The fandom does the same, acting as gods of their own making in taking canon and transforming it into fan art. The fans aren’t impotent like Chuck, but neither do we have sway over the story in the way that Cas and Dean do. Sam isn’t interested in changing the story in the same way—he wants to kill Lilith and save the world, but in doing so continues the story in the way it was always supposed to go, the way the angels and the demons and even God wanted him to.

Neither of them are author-gods in the way that God is. We find out later that Chuck is in fact the real biblical god, and he engineers everything. The one thing he doesn’t engineer, however, is Castiel, and I’ll get to that in a minute.

The Real Ghostbusters

Season 5’s “The real ghostbusters,” written by Nancy Weiner and Erik Kripke, and directed by James L Conway, situates the Winchesters at a fan convention for the Supernatural books. While there, they are confronted by a slew of fans cosplaying as Sam, Dean, Bobby, the scarecrow, Azazel, and more. They happen to stumble upon a case, in the midst of the game where the fans pretend to be on a case, and with the help of two fans cosplaying as Sam and Dean, they put to rest a group of homicidal ghost children and save the day. Chuck as the special guest of the con has a hero moment that spurs Becky on to return his affections. And at the end, we learn that the Colt, which they’ve been hunting down to kill the devil, was given to a demon named Crowley. It’s a fun episode, but ultimately skippable. This episode isn’t so much metanarrative as it is metatextual—metatextual meaning more than one layer of text but not necessarily about the storytelling in those texts—but let’s take a look at it anyway.

The metanarrative element of a show about a series of books about the brothers the show is based on is dope and expands upon what we saw in “the monster at the end of this book”. But the episode tells a tale about about the show itself, and the fandom that surrounds it.

Where “The Monster At The End Of This Book” and the season 5 premiere “Sympathy For The Devil” poked at the coiled snake of fans and the concept of fandom, “the real ghostbusters” drags them into the harsh light of an enclosure and antagonises them in front of an audience. The metanarrative element revolves around not only the books themselves, but the stories concocted within the episode: namely Barnes and Demian the cosplayers and the story of the ghosts. The Winchester brothers’s history that we’ve seen throughout the first five seasons of the show is bared in a tongue in cheek way: while we cried with them when Sam and Dean fought with John, now the story is thrown out in such a way as to mock both the story and the fans’ relationship to it. Let me tell you, there is a lot to be made fun of on this show, but the fans’ relationship to the story of Sam, Dean and everyone they encounter along the way isn’t part of it. I don’t mean to be like, wow you can’t make fun of us ever because we’re special little snowflakes and we take everything so seriously, because you are welcome to make fun of us, but when the creators do it, I can’t help but notice a hint of malice. And I think that’s understandable in a way. Like The relationship between creator and fan is both layered and symbiotic. While Kripke and co no doubt owe the show’s popularity to the fans, especially as the fandom has grown and evolved over time, we’re not exactly free of sin. And don’t get me wrong, no fandom is. But the bad apples always seem to outweigh the good ones, and bad experiences can stick with us long past their due.

However, portraying us as losers with no lives who get too obsessed with this show — well, you know, actually, maybe they’re right. I am a loser with no life and I am too obsessed with this show. So maybe they have a point. But they’re so harsh about it. From wincestie Becky who they paint as a desperate shrew to these cosplayers who threaten Dean’s very perception of himself, we’re not painted in a very good light.

Dean says to Demian and Barnes, “It must be nice to get out of your mom’s basement.” He’s judging them for deriving pleasure from dressing up and pretending to be someone else for a night. He doesn’t seem to get the irony that he does that for a living. As the seasons wore on, the creators made sure to include episodes where Dean’s inner geek could run rampant, often in the form of dressing up like a cowboy, such as season six “Frontierland” and season 13 “Tombstone”. I had to take a break from writing this to laugh for five minutes because Dean is so funny. He’s a car gay but he only likes one car. He doesn’t follow sports. His echolalia causes him to blurt out lines from his favourite movies. He’s a posse magnet. And he loves cosplay. But he will continually degrade and insult anyone who expresses interest in role play, fandom, or interests in general. Maybe that’s why Sam is such a boring person, because Dean as his mother didn’t allow him to have any interests outside of hunting. And when Sam does express interests, Dean insults him too. What a dick. He’s my soulmate, but I am not going to stop listening to hair metal for him. That’s where I draw the line.

Where “the monster at the end of this book” is concerned with narrative and authorship, “the real ghostbusters” is concerned with fandom and fan reactions to the show. It’s not really the best example to talk about in an episode about metanarrativity, but I wanted to include it anyway. It veers from talk of narrative by focusing on the people in the periphery of the narrative—the fans and the author. In season 9 “Metafiction,” Metatron asks the question, who gives the story meaning? The text would have you believe it’s the characters. The angels think it’s God. The fandom think it’s us. The creators think it’s them. Perhaps we will never come to a consensus or even a satisfactory answer to this question. Perhaps that’s the point.

The ultimate takeaway from this episode is that ordinary people, the people Sam and Dean save, the people they save the world for, the people they die for again and again, are what give their story meaning. Chuck defeats a ghost and saves the people in the conference room from being murdered. Demian and Barnes, don’t ask me which is which, burn the bodies of the ghost children and lay their spirits to rest. The text says that ordinary, every day people can rise to the challenge of becoming extraordinary. It’s not a bad note to end on, by any means. And then we find out that Demian and Barnes are a couple, which of course Dean is surprised at, because he lacks object permanence.

This is no doubt influenced by how a good portion of the transformative fandom are queer, and also a nod to the wincesties and RPF writers like Becky who continue to bottom feed off the wrong message of this show. But then, the creators encourage that sort of thing, so who are the real clowns here? Everyone. Everyone involved with this show in any way is a clown, except for the crew, who were able to feed their families for more than a decade.

Okay side note… over the past year or so I’ve been in process of realising that even in fandom queers are in the minority. I know the statistic is that 10% of the world population is queer, but that doesn’t seem right to me? Maybe because 4/5 closest friends are queer and I hang around queers online, but I also think I lack object permanence when it comes to straight people. Like I just do not interact with straight people on a regular basis outside of my best friend and parents and school. So when I hear that someone in fandom is straight I’m like, what the fuck… can you keep that to yourself please? Like if I saw Misha Collins coming out as straight I would be like, I didn’t ask and you didn’t have to tell. Okay I’m mostly joking, but I do forget straight people exist. Mostly I don’t think about whether people are gay or trans or cis or straight unless they’ve explicitly said it and then yes it does colour my perception of them, because of course it would. If they’re part of the queer community, they’re my people. And if they’re straight and cis, then they could very well pose a threat to me and my wellbeing. But I never ask people because it’s not my business to ask. If they feel comfortable enough to tell me, that’s awesome. I think Dean feels the same way. Towards the later seasons at least, he has a good reaction when it’s revealed that someone is queer, even if it is mostly played off as a joke. It’s just that he doesn’t have a frame of reference in his own life to having a gay relationship, either his or someone he’s close to. He says to Cesar and Jesse in season 11 “The Critters” that they fight like brothers, because that’s the only way he knows how to conceptualise it. He doesn’t have a way to categorise his and Cas’s relationship, which is in many ways, long before season 15 “Despair,” harking back even to the parallels between Ruby and Cas in season 3 and 4, a romantic one, aside from that Cas is like a brother to him. Because he’s never had anyone in his life care for him the way Cas does that wasn’t Sam and Bobby, and he doesn’t recognise the romantic element of their relationship until literally Cas says it to him in the third last episode, he just—doesn’t know what his and Cas’s relationship is. He just really doesn’t know. And he grew up with a father who despised him for taking the mom and wife role in their family, the role that John placed him in, for being subservient to John’s wishes where Sam was more rebellious, so of course he wouldn’t understand either his own desires or those of anyone around him who isn’t explicitly shoving their tits in his face. He moulded his entire personality around what he thought John wanted of him, and John says to him explicitly in season 14 “Lebanon”, “I thought you’d have a family,” meaning, like him, wife and two rugrats. And then, dear god, Dean says, thinking of Sam, Cas, Jack, Claire, and Mary, “I have a family.” God that hurts so much. But since for most of his life he hasn’t been himself, he’s been the man he thought his father wanted him to be, he’s never been able to examine his own desires, wants and goals. So even though he’s really good at reading people, he is not good at reading other people’s desires unless they have nefarious intentions. Because he doesn’t recognise what he feels is attraction to men, he doesn’t recognise that in anyone else.

Okay that’s completely off topic, wow. Getting back to metanarrativity in “The Real Ghostbusters,” I’ll just cap it off by saying that the books in this episode are more a frame for the events than the events themselves. However, there are some good outtakes where Chuck answers some questions, and I’m not sure how much of that is scripted and how much is Rob Benedict just going for it, but it lends another element to the idea of Kripke as author-god. The idea of a fan convention is really cool, because at this point Supernatural conventions had been running for about 4 years, since 2006. It’s definitely a tribute to the fans, but also to their own self importance. So it’s a mixed bag, considering there were plenty of elements in there that show the good side of fandom and fans, but ultimately the Winchesters want nothing to do with it, consider it weird, and threaten Chuck when he says he’ll start releasing books again, which as far as they know is his only source of income. But it’s a fun episode and Dean is a grouchy bitch, so who the holy hell cares?

Season 10 episode “fanfiction” written by my close personal friend Robbie Thompson and directed by Phil Sgriccia is one of the funniest episodes this show has ever done. Not only is it full of metatextual and metanarrative jokes, the entire premise revolves around fanservice, but in like a fun and interesting way, not fanservice like killing the band Kansas so that Dean can listen to “Carry On My Wayward Son” in heaven twice. Twice. One version after another. Like I would watch this musical seven times in theatre, I would buy the soundtrack, I would listen to it on repeat and make all my friends listen to it when they attend my online Jitsi birthday party. This musical is my Hamilton. Top ten episodes of this show for sure. The only way it could be better is if Cas was there. And he deserved to be there. He deserved to watch little dyke Castiel make out with her girlfriend with her cute little wings, after which he and Dean share uncomfortable eye contact. Dean himself is forever coming to terms with the fact that gay people exist, but Cas should get every opportunity he can to hear that it’s super cool and great and awesome to be queer. But really he should be in every episode, all of them, all 300 plus episodes including the ones before angels were introduced. I’m going to commission the guy who edits Paddington into every movie to superimpose Cas standing on the highway into every episode at least once.

“Fan Fiction” starts with a tv script and the words “Supernatural pilot created by Eric Kripke”. This Immediately sets up the idea that it’s toying with narrative. Blah blah blah, some people go missing, they stumble into a scene from their worst nightmares: the school is putting on a musical production of a show inspired by the Supernatural books. It’s a comedy of errors. When people continue to go missing, Sam and Dean have to convince the girls that something supernatural is happening, while retaining their dignity and respect. They reveal that they are the real Sam and Dean, and Dean gives the director Marie a summary of their lives over the last five seasons, but they aren’t taken seriously. Because, like, of course they aren’t. Even when the girls realise that something supernatural is happening, they don’t actually believe that the musical they’ve made and the series of books they’re basing it on are real. Despite how Sam and Dean Winchester were literal fugitives for many years at many different times, and this was on the news, and they were wanted by the FBI, despite how they pretend to be FBI, and no one mentions it??? Did any of the staffwriters do the required reading or just do what I used to do for my 40 plus page readings of Baudrillard and just skim the first sentence of every paragraph? Neat hack for you: paragraphs are set up in a logical order of Topic, Example, Elaboration, Linking sentence. Do you have to read 60 pages of some crusty French dude waxing poetic about how his best friend Pierre wants to shag his wife and making that your problem? Read the first and last sentence of every paragraph. Boom, done. Just cut your work in half.

The musical highlights a lot of the important moments of the show so far. The brothers have, as Charlie Bradbury says, their “broment,” and as Marie says, their “boy melodrama scene,” while she insinuates that there is a sexual element to their relationship. This show never passed up an opportunity to mention incest. It’s like: mentioning incest 5000 km, not being disgusting 1 km, what a hard decision. Actually, they do have to walk on their knees for 100 miles through the desert repenting. But there are other moments—such as Mary burning on the ceiling, a classic, Castiel waiting for Dean at the side of the highway, and Azazel poisoning Sam. With the help of the high schoolers, Sam and Dean overcome Calliope, the muse and bad guy of the episode, and save the day. What began as their lives reinterpreted and told back to them turns into a story they have some agency over.

In this episode, as opposed to “The Monster At The End Of This Book,” The storytelling has transferred from an alcoholic in a bathrobe into the hands of an overbearing and overachieving teenage girl, and honestly why not. Transformative fiction is by and large run by women, and queer women, so Marie and her stage manager slash Jody Mills’s understudy Maeve are just following in the footsteps of legends. This kind of really succinctly summarises the difference between curative fandom and transformative fandom, the former of which is populated mostly by men, and the latter mostly by women. As defined by LordByronic in 2015, Curative fandom is more like enjoying the text, collecting the merchandise, organising the knowledge — basically Reddit in terms of fandom curation. Transformative fandom is transforming the source text in some way — making fanart, fanfic, mvs, or a musical — basically Tumblr in general, and Archive of our own specifically. Like what do non fandom people even do on Tumblr? It is a complete mystery to me. Whereas Chuck literally writes himself into the narrative he receives through visions, Marie and co have agency and control over the narrative by writing it themselves.

Chuck does appear in the episode towards the end, his first appearance after five seasons. The theory that he killed those lesbian theatre girls makes me wanna curl up and die, so I don’t subscribe to it. Chuck watched the musical and he liked it and he gave unwarranted notes and then he left, the end.

The Supernatural creative team is explicitly acknowledging the fandom’s efforts by making this episode. They’re writing us in again, with more obsessive fans, but with lethbians this time, which makes it infinitely better. And instead of showing us as potential date rapists, we’re just cool chicks who like to make art. And that’s fucken awesome.

I just have to note that the characters literally say the word Destiel after Dean sees the actors playing Dean and Cas making out. He storms off and tells Sam to shut the fuck up when Sam makes fun of him, because Dean’s sexuality is NOT threatened he just needs to assert his dominance as a straight hetero man who has NEVER looked at another man’s lips and licked his own. He just… forgets that gay people exist until someone reminds him. BUT THEN, after a rousing speech that is stolen from Rent or Wicked or something, he echoes Marie’s words back, saying “put as much sub into that text as you possibly can.” What does Dean know about subbing, I wonder. Okay I’m suddenly reminded that he did literally go to a kink bar and get hit on by a leather daddy. Oh Dean, the experiences you have as a broad-shouldered, pixie-faced man with cowboy legs. You were born for this role.

Metatron is my favourite villain. As one tumblr user pointed out, he is an evil English literature major, which is just a normal English literature major. The season nine episode “Meta Fiction” written by my main man robbie thompson and directed by thomas j wright, happens within a curious season. Castiel, once again, becomes the leader of a portion of the heavenly host to take down Metatron, and Dean is affected by the Mark Of Cain. Sam was recently possessed by Gadreel, who killed Kevin in Sam’s body and then decided to run off with Metatron. Metatron himself is recruiting angels to join him, in the hopes that he can become the new God. It’s the first introduction of Hannah, who encourages Cas to recruit angels himself to take on Metatron. Also, we get to see Gabriel again, who is always a delight.

This episode is a lot of fun. Metatron poses questions like, who tells a story and who is the most important person in the telling? Is it the writer? The audience? He starts off staring over his typewriter to address the camera, like a pompous dickhead. No longer content with consuming stories, he’s started to write his own. And they are hubristic ones about becoming God, a better god than Chuck ever was, but to do it he needs to kill a bunch of people and blame it on Cas. So really, he’s actually exactly like Chuck who blamed everything on Lucifer.

But I think the most apt analogy we can use for this in terms of who is the creator is to think of Metatron as a fanfiction writer. He consumes the media—the Winchester Gospels—and starts to write his own version of events—leading an army to become God and kill Cas. Nevermind that no one has been able to kill Cas in a way that matters or a way that sticks. Which is canon, and what Metatron is trying to do is—well not fanon because it actually does impact the Winchesters’ storyline. It would be like if one of the writers of Supernatural began writing Supernatural fanfiction before they got a job on the show. Which as my generation and the generations coming after me get more comfortable with fanfiction and fandom, is going to be the case for a lot of shows. I think it’s already the case for Riverdale. Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t the woman who wrote the bi Dean essay go to work on Riverdale? Or something? I dunno, I have the post saved in my tumblr likes but that is quagmire of epic proportions that I will easily get lost in if I try to find it.

Okay let me flex my literary degree. As Englund and Leach say in “Ethnography and the metanarratives of modernity,” “The influential “literary turn,” in which the problems of ethnography were seen as largely textual and their solutions as lying in experimental writing seems to have lost its impetus.” This can be taken to mean, in the context of Supernatural, that while Metatron’s writings seek to forge a new path in history, forgoing fate for a new kind of divine intervention, the problem with Metatron is that he’s too caught up in the textual, too caught up in the writing, to be effectual. And this as we see throughout seasons 9, 10 and 11, has no lasting effect. Cas gets his grace back, Dean survives, and Metatron becomes a powerless human. In this case, the impetus is his grace, which he loses when Cas cuts it out of him, a mirror to Metatron cutting out Cas’s grace.

However, I realise that the concept of ethnography in Supernatural is a flawed one, ethnography being the observation of another culture: a lot of the angels observe humanity and seem to fit in. However, Cas has to slowly acclimatise to the Winchesters as they tame him, but he never quite fit in—missing cues, not understanding jokes or Dean’s personal space, the scene where he says, “We have a guinea pig? Where?” Show him the guinea pig Sam!!! He wants to see it!!! At most he passes as a human with autism. Cas doesn’t really observe humanity—he observes nature, as seen in season 7 “reading is fundamental” and “survival of the fittest”. Even the human acts he talks about in season 6 “the man who would be king” are from hundreds or thousands of years ago. He certainly doesn’t observe popular culture, which puts him at odds with Dean, who is made up of 90 per cent pop culture references and 10 per cent flannel. Metatron doesn’t seek to blend in with humanity so much as control it, which actually is the most apt example of ethnography for white people in the last—you know, forever. But of course the writers didn’t seek to make this analogy. It is purely by chance, and maybe I’m the only person insane enough to realise it. But probably not. There are a lot of cookies much smarter than me in the Supernatural fandom and they’ve like me have grown up and gone to university and gotten real jobs in the real world and real haircuts. I’m probably the only person to apply Englund and Leach to it though.

And yes, as I read this paper I did need to have one tab open on Google, with the word “define” in the search bar.

Metatron has a few lines in this that I really like. He says:

“The universe is made up of stories, not atoms.”

“You’re going to have to follow my script.”

“I’m an entity of my word.”

It’s really obvious, but they’re pushing the idea that Metatron has become an agent of authorship instead of just a consumer of media. He even throws a Supernatural book into his fire — a symbolic act of burning the script and flipping the writer off, much like Cas did to God and the angels in season 5. He’s not a Kripke figure so much as maybe a Gamble, Carver or Dabb figure, in that he usurps Chuck and becomes the author-god. This would be extremely postmodern of him if he didn’t just do exactly what Chuck was doing, except worse somehow. In fact, it’s postmodern of Cas to reject heaven’s narrative and fall for Dean. As one tumblr user points out, Cas really said “What’s fate compared to Dean Winchester?”

Okay this transcript is almost 8000 words already, and I still have two more episodes to review, and more things to say, so I’ll leave you with this. Metatron says to Cas, “Out of all of God’s wind up toys, you’re the only one with any spunk.” Why Cas has captured his attention comes down more than anything to a process of elimination. Most angels fucking suck. They follow the rules of whoever puts themselves in charge, and they either love Cas or hate him, or just plainly wanna fuck him, and there have been few angels who stood out. Balthazar was awesome, even though I hated him the first time I watched season 6. He UNSUNK the Titanic. Legend status. And Gabriel was of course the OG who loves to fuck shit up. But they’re gone at this stage in the narrative, and Cas survives. Cas always survives. He does have spunk. And everyone wants to fuck him.

Season 11 episode 20 “Don’t Call Me Shurley,” the last episode written by the Christ like figure of Robbie Thompson — are we sensing a theme here? — and directed by my divine enemy Robert Singer, starts with Metatron dumpster diving for food. I’m not even going to bother commenting on this because like… it’s supernatural and it treats complex issues like homelessness and poverty with zero nuance. Like the Winchesters live in poverty but it’s fun and cool because they always scrape by but Metatron lives in poverty and it’s funny. Cas was homeless and it was hard but he needed to do it to atone for his sins, and Metatron is homeless and it’s funny because he brought it on himself by being a murderous dick. Fucking hell. Robbie, come on. The plot focuses on God, also known as Chuck Shurley, making himself known to Metatron and asking for Metatron’s opinion on his memoir. Meanwhile, the Winchesters battle another bout of infectious serial killer fog sent by Amara. At the end of the episode, Chuck heals everyone affected by the fog and reveals himself to Sam and Dean.

Chuck says that he didn’t foresee Metatron trying to become god, but the idea of Season 15 is that Chuck has been writing the Winchesters’ story all their lives. When Metatron tries, he fails miserably, is locked up in prison, tortured by Dean, then rendered useless as a human and thrown into the world without a safety net. His authorship is reduced to nothing, and he is reduced to dumpster diving for food. He does actually attempt to live his life as someone who records tragedies as they happen and sells the footage to news stations, which is honestly hilarious and amazing and completely unsurprising because Metatron is, at the heart of it, an English Literature major. In true bastard style, he insults Chuck’s work and complains about the bar, but slips into his old role of editor when Chuck asks him to.

The theory I’m consulting for this uses the term metanarrative in a different way than I am. They consider it an overarching narrative, a grand narrative like religion. Chuck’s biography is in a sense most loyal to Middleton and Walsh’s view of metanarrative: “the universal story of the world from arche to telos, a grand narrative encompassing world history from beginning to end.” Except instead of world history, it’s God’s history, and since God is construed in Supernatural as just some guy with some powers who is as fallible as the next some guy with some powers, his story has biases and agendas. Okay so in the analysis I’m getting Middleton and Walsh’s quotes from, James K A Smith’s “A little story about metanarratives,” Smith dunks on them pretty bad, but for Supernatural purposes their words ring true. Think of them as the BuckLeming of Lyotard’s postmodern metanarrative analysis: a stopped clock right twice a day. Is anyone except me understanding the sequence of words I’m saying right now. Do I just have the most specific case of brain worms ever found in human history. I’m currently wearing my oversized Keith Haring shirt and dipping pretzels into peanut butter because it’s 3.18 in the morning and the homosexuals got to me. The total claims a comprehensive metanarrative of world history make do indeed, as Middleton and Walsh claim, lead to violence, stay with me here, because Chuck’s legacy is violence, and so is Metatron’s, and in trying to reject the metanarrative, Sam and Dean enact violence. Mostly Dean, because in season 15 he sacrifices his own son twice to defeat Chuck. But that means literally fighting violence with violence. Violence is, after all, all they know. Violence is the lens through which they interact with the world. If the writers wanted to do literally anything else, they could have continued Dean’s natural character progression into someone who eschews the violence that stems from intergeneration trauma — yes I will continue to use the phrase intergenerational trauma whenever I refer to Dean — and becomes a loving father and husband. Sam could eschew violence and start a monster rehabilitation centre with Eileen.

This episode of Holy Hell is me frantically grabbing at straws to make sense of a narrative that actively hates me and wants to kick me to death. But the violence Sam and Dean enact is not at a metanarrative level, because they are not author-gods of their own narrative. In season 15 “Atomic Monsters,” Becky points out that the ending of the Supernatural book series is bad because the brothers die, and then, in a shocking twist of fate, Dean does die, and the narrative is bad. The writers set themselves a goal post to kick through and instead just slammed their heat into the bars. They set up the dartboard and were like, let’s aim the darts at ourselves. Wouldn’t that be fun. Season 15’s writing is so grossly incompetent that I believe every single conspiracy theory that’s come out of the finale since November, because it’s so much more compelling than whatever the fuck happened on the road so far. Carry on? Why yes, I think I will carry on, carry on like a pork chop, screaming at the bars of my enclosure until I crack my voice open like an egg and spill out all my rage and frustration. The world will never know peace again. It’s now 3.29 and I’ve written over 9000 words of this transcript. And I’m not done.

Middleton and Walsh claim that metanarratives are merely social constructions masquerading as universal truths. Which is, exactly, Supernatural. The creators have constructed this elaborate web of narrative that they want to sell us as the be all and end all. They won’t let the actors discuss how they really feel about the finale. They won’t let Misha Collins talk about Destiel. They want us to believe it was good, actually, that Dean, a recovering alcoholic with a 30 year old infant son and a husband who loves him, deserved to die by getting NAILED, while Sam, who spent the last four seasons, the entirety of Andrew Dabb’s run as showrunner, excelling at creating a hunter network and romancing both the queen of hell and his deaf hunter girlfriend, should have lived a normie life with a normie faceless wife. Am I done? Not even close. I started this episode and I’m going to finish it.

When we find out that Chuck is God in the episode of season 11, it turns everything we knew about Chuck on its head. We find out in Season 15 that Chuck has been writing the Winchesters’ story all along, that everything that happened to them is his doing. The one thing he couldn’t control was Cas’s choice to rebel. If we take him at his word, Cas is the only true force of free will in the entire universe, and more specifically, the love that Cas had for Dean which caused him to rebel and fall from heaven. — This theory has holes of course. Why would Lucifer torture Lilith into becoming the first demon if he didn’t have free will? Did Chuck make him do that? And why? So that Chuck could be the hero and Lucifer the bad guy, like Lucifer claimed all along? That’s to say nothing of Adam and Eve, both characters the show introduced in different ways, one as an antagonist and the other as the narrative foil to Dean and Cas’s romance. Thinking about it makes my head hurt, so I’m just not gunna.

So Chuck was doing the writing all along. And as Becky claims in “Atomic Monsters,” it’s bad writing. The writers explicitly said, the ending Chuck wrote is bad because there’s no Cas and everyone dies, and then they wrote an ending where there is no Cas and everyone dies. So talk about self-fulfilling prophecies. Talk about giant craters in the earth you could see from 800 kilometres away but you still fell into. Meanwhile fan writers have the opportunity to write a million different endings, all of which satisfy at least one person. The fandom is a hydra, prolific and unstoppable, and we’ll keep rewriting the ending a million more times.

And all this is not even talking about the fact that Chuck is a man, Metatron is a man, Sam and Dean and Cas are men, and the writers and directors of the show are, by an overwhelming majority, men. Most of them are white, straight, cis men. Feminist scholarship has done a lot to unpack the damage done by paternalistic approaches to theory, sociology, ethnography, all the -ys, but I propose we go a step further with these men. Kill them. Metanarratively, of course. Amara, the Darkness, God’s sister, had a chance to write her own story without Chuck, after killing everything in the universe, and I think she had the right idea. Knock it all down to build it from the ground up. Billie also had the opportunity to write a narrative, but her folly was, of course, putting any kind of faith in the Winchesters who are also grossly incompetent and often fail up. She is, as all author-gods on this show are, undone by Castiel. The only one with any spunk, the only one who exists outside of his own narrative confines, the only one the author-gods don’t have any control over. The one who died for love, and in dying, gave life.

The French Mistake

Let’s change the channel. Let’s calm ourselves and cleanse our libras. Let’s commune with nature and chug some sage bongs.

“The French Mistake” is a song from the Mel Brooks film Blazing Saddles. In the iconic second last scene of the film, as the cowboys fight amongst themselves, the camera pans back to reveal a studio lot and a door through which a chorus of gay dancersingers perform “the French Mistake”. The lyrics go, “Throw out your hands, stick out your tush, hands on your hips, give ‘em a push. You’ll be surprised you’re doing the French Mistake.”

I’m not sure what went through the heads of the Supernatural creators when they came up with the season 6 episode, “The French Mistake,” written by the love of my life Ben Edlund and directed by some guy Charles Beeson. Just reading the Wikipedia summary is so batshit incomprehensible. In short: Balthazar sends Sam and Dean to an alternate universe where they are the actors Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles, who play Sam and Dean on the tv show Supernatural. I don’t think this had ever been done in television history before. The first seven seasons of this show are certifiable. Like this was ten years ago. Think about the things that have happened in the last 10 slutty, slutty years. We have lived through atrocities and upheaval and the entire world stopping to mourn, but also we had twitter throughout that entire time, which makes it infinitely worse.

In this universe, Sam and Dean wear makeup, Cas is played by attractive crying man Misha Collins, and Genevieve Padalecki nee Cortese makes an appearance. Magic doesn’t exist, Serge has good ideas, and the two leads have to act in order to get through the day. Sorry man I do not know how to pronounce your name.

Sidenote: I don’t know if me being attracted aesthetically to Misha Collins is because he’s attractive, because this show has gaslighted me into thinking he’s attractive, or because Castiel’s iconic entrance in 2008 hit my developing mind like a torpedo full of spaghetti and blew my fucking brains all over the place. It’s one of life’s little mysteries and God’s little gifts.

Let’s talk about therapy. More specifically, “Agency and purpose in narrative therapy: questioning the postmodern rejection of metanarrative” by Cameron Lee. In this paper, Lee outlines four key ideas as proposed by Freedman and Combs:

Realities are socially constructed

Realities are constituted through language

Realities are organised and maintained through narrative

And there are no essential truths.

Let’s break this down in the case of this episode. Realities are socially constructed: the reality of Sam and Dean arose from the Bush era. Do I even need to elaborate? From what I understand with my limited Australian perception, and being a child at the time, 9/11 really was a prominent shifting point in the last twenty years. As Americans describe it, sometimes jokingly, it was the last time they were really truly innocent. That means to me that until they saw the repercussions of their government’s actions in funding turf wars throughout the middle east for a good chunk of the 20th Century, they allowed themselves to be hindered by their own ignorance. The threat of terrorism ran rampant throughout the States, spurred on by right wing nationalists and gun-toting NRA supporters, so it’s really no surprise that the show Supernatural started with the premise of killing everything in sight and driving around with only your closest kin and a trunk full of guns. Kripke constructed that reality from the social-political climate of the time, and it has wrought untold horrors on the minds of lesbians who lived through the noughties, in that we are now attracted to Misha Collins.

Number two: Realities are constituted through language. Before a show can become a show, it needs to be a script. It’s written down, typed up, and given to actors who say the lines out loud. In this respect, they are using the language of speech and words to convey meaning. But tv shows are not all about words, and they’re barely about scripts. From what I understand of being raised by television, they are about action, visuals, imagery, and behaviours. All of the work that goes into them—the scripts, the lighting, the audio, the sound mixing, the cameras, the extras, the ADs, the gaffing, the props, the stunts, everything—is about conveying a story through the medium of images. In that way, images are the language. The reality of the show Supernatural, inside the show Supernatural, is constituted through words: the script, the journalists talking to Sam, the makeup artist taking off Dean’s makeup, the conversations between the creators, the tweets Misha sends. But also through imagery: the fish tank in Jensen’s trailer, the model poses on the front cover of the magazine, the opulence of Jared’s house, Misha’s iconic sweater. Words and images are the language that constitutes both of these realities. Okay for real, I feel like I’ve only seen this episode max three times, including when I watched it for research for this episode, but I remember so much about it.

Number three: realities are organised and maintained through narrative. In this universe of the French Mistake, their lives are structured around two narratives: the internal narrative of the show within the show, in which they are two actors on a tv set; and the episode narrative in which they need to keep the key safe and return to their own universe. This is made difficult by the revelation that magic doesn’t work in this universe, however, they find a way. Before they can get back, though, an avenging angel by the name of Virgil guns down author-god Eric Kripke and tries to kill the Winchesters. However, they are saved by Balthazar and the freeze frame and brought back into their own world, the world of Supernatural the show, not Supernatural the show within the show within the nesting doll. And then that reality is done with, never to be revisited or even mentioned, but with an impact that has lasted longer than the second Bush administration.

And number four: there are no essential truths. This one is a bit tricky because I can’t find what Lee means by essential truths, so I’m just going to interpret that. To me, essential truths means what lies beneath the narratives we tell ourselves. Supernatural was a show that ran for 15 years. Supernatural had actors. Supernatural was showrun by four different writers. In the show within a show, there is nothing, because that ceases to exist for longer than the forty two minute episode “The French Mistake”. And since Supernatural no longer exists except in our computers, it is nothing too. It is only the narratives we tell ourselves to sleep better at night, to wake up in the morning with a smile, to get through the day, to connect with other people, to understand ourselves better. It’s not even the narrative that the showrunners told, because they have no agency over it as soon as it shows up on our screens. The essential truth of the show is lost in the translation from creating to consuming. Who gives the story meaning? The people watching it and the people creating it. We all do.

Lee says that humans are predisposed to construct narratives in order to make sense of the world. We see this in cultures from all over the world: from cave paintings to vases, from The Dreaming to Beowulf, humans have always constructed stories. The way you think about yourself is a story that you’ve constructed. The way you interact with your loved ones and the furries you rightfully cyberbully on Twitter is influenced by the narratives you tell yourself about them. And these narratives are intricate, expansive, personalised, and can colour our perceptions completely, so that we turn into a different person when we interact with one person as opposed to another.

Whatever happened in season 6, most of which I want to forget, doesn’t interest me in the way I’m telling myself the writers intended. For me, the entirety of season 6 was based around the premise of Cas being in love with Dean, and the complete impotence of this love. He turns up when Dean calls, he agonises as he watches Dean rake leaves and live his apple pie life with Lisa, and Dean is the person he feels most horribly about betraying. He says, verbatim, to Sam, “Dean and I do share a more profound bond.” And Balthazar says, “You’re confusing me with the other angel, the one in the dirty trenchcoat who’s in love with you.” He says this in season 6, and we couldn’t do a fucken thing about it.

The song “The French Mistake” shines a light on the hidden scene of gay men performing a gay narrative, in the midst of a scene about the manliest profession you can have: professional horse wrangler, poncho wearer, and rodeo meister, the cowboy. If this isn’t a perfect encapsulation of the lovestory between Dean and Cas, which Ben Edlund has been championing from day fucking one of Misha Collins walking onto that set with his sex hair and chapped lips, then I don’t know what the fuck we’re even doing here. What in the hell else could it possibly mean. The layers to this. The intricacy. The agendas. The subtextual AND blatant queerness. The micro aggressions Crowley aimed at Car in “The Man Who Would Be King,” another Bedlund special. Bed Edlund is a fucking genius. Bed Edlund is cool girl. Ben Edlund is the missing link. Bed Edlund IS wikileaks. Ben Edlund is a cool breeze on a humid summer day. Ben Edlund is the stop loading button on a browser tab. Ben Edlund is the perfect cross between Spotify and Apple Music, in which you can search for good playlists, but without having to be on Spotify. He can take my keys and fuck my wife. You best believe I’m doing an entire episode of Holy Hell on Bedlund’s top five. He is the reason I want to get into staffwriting on a tv show. I saw season 4 episode “On the head of a pin” when my brain was still torpedoed spaghetti mush from the premiere, and it nestled its way deep into my exposed bones, so that when I finally recovered from that, I was a changed person. My god, this transcript is 11,000 words, and I haven’t even finished the Becky section. Which is a good transition.

Oh, Becky. She is an incarnation of how the writers, or at least Kripke, view the fans. Watching season 5 “Sympathy for the Devil” live in 2009 was a whole fucking trip that I as a baby gay was not prepared for. Figuring out my sexuality was a journey that started with the Supernatural fandom and is in some aspects still raging against the dying of the light today. Add to that, this conception of the audience was this, like, personification of the librarian cellist from Juno, but also completely without boundaries, common sense, or shame. It made me wonder about my position in the narrative as a consumer consuming. Is that how Kripke saw me, specifically? Was I like Becky? Did my forays into DeanCasNatural on El Jay dot com make me a fucking loser whose only claim to fame is writing some nasty fanfiction that I’ve since deleted all traces of? Don’t get me wrong, me and my unhinged Casgirl friends loved Becky. I can’t remember if I ever wrote any fanfiction with her in it because I was mostly writing smut, which is extremely Becky coded of me, but I read some and my friends and I would always chat about her when she came up. She was great entertainment value before season 7. But in the eyes of the powers that be, Becky, like the fans themselves, are expendable. First they turned her into a desperate bride wannabe who drugs Sam so that he’ll be with her, then Chuck waves his hand and she disappears. We’re seeing now with regards to Destiel, Cas, and Misha Collins this erasure of them from the narrative. Becky says in season 15 “Atomic Monsters” that the ending Chuck writes is bad because, for one, there’s no Cas, and that’s exactly what’s happening to the text post-finale. It literally makes me insane akin to the throes of mania to think about the layers of this. They literally said, “No Cas = bad” and now Misha isn’t even allowed to talk in his Cassona voice—at least at the time I wrote that—to the detriment of the fans who care about him. It’s the same shit over and over. They introduce something we like, they realise they have no control over how much we like it, and then they pretend they never introduced it in the first place. Season 7, my god. The only reason Gamble brought back Cas was because the ratings were tanking the show. I didn’t even bother watching most of it live, and would just hear from my friends whether Cas was in the episodes or not. And then Sera, dear Sera, had the gall to say it was a Homer’s Odyssey narrative. I’m rusty on Homer aka I’ve never read it but apparently Odysseus goes away, ends up with a wife on an island somewhere, and then comes back to Terabithia like it never happened. How convenient. But since Sera Gamble loves to bury her gays, we can all guess why Cas was written out of the show: Cas being gay is a threat to the toxic heteronormativity spouted by both the show and the characters themselves. In season 15, after Becky gets her life together, has kids, gets married, and starts a business, she is outgrowing the narrative and Chuck kills her. The fans got Destiel Wedding trending on Twitter, and now the creators are acting like he doesn’t exist. New liver, same eagles.

I have to add an adendum: as of this morning, Sunday 11th, don’t ask me what time that is in Americaland, Misha Collins did an online con/Q&A thing and answered a bunch of questions about Cas and Dean, which goes to show that he cannot be silenced. So the narrative wants to be told. It’s continuing well into it’s 16th or 17th season. It’s going to keep happening and they have no recourse to stop it. So fuck you, Supernatural.

I did write the start of a speech about representation but, who the holy hell cares. I also read some disappointing Masters theses that I hope didn’t take them longer to research and write than this episode of a podcast I’m making for funsies took me, considering it’s the same number of pages. Then again I have the last four months and another 8 years of fandom fuelling my obsession, and when I don’t sleep I write, hence the 4,000 words I knocked out in the last 12 hours.

Some final words. Lyotard defines postmodernism, the age we live in, as an incredulity towards metanarratives. Modernism was obsessed with order and meaning, but postmodernism seeks to disrupt that. Modernists lived within the frame of the narrative of their society, but postmodernists seek to destroy the frame and live within our own self-written contexts. Okay I love postmodernist theory so this has been a real treat for me. Yoghurt, Sam? Postmodernist theory? Could I BE more gay?

Middleton and Walsh in their analysis of postmodernism claim that biblical faith is grounded in metanarrative, and explore how this intersects with an era that rejects metanarrative. This is one of the fundamental ideas Supernatural is getting at throughout definitely the last season, but other seasons as well. The narratives of Good vs Evil, Michael vs Lucifer, Dean vs Sam, were encoded into the overarching story of the show from season 1, and since then Sam and Dean have sought to break free of them. Sam broke free of John’s narrative, which was the hunting life, and revenge, and this moralistic machismo that they wrapped themselves up in. If they’re killing the evil, then they’re not the evil. That’s the story they told, and the impetus of the show that Sam was sucked back into. But this thread unravelled in later seasons when Dean became friends with Benny and the idea that all supernatural creatures are inherently evil unravelled as well. While they never completely broke free of John’s hold over them, welcoming Jack into their lives meant confronting a bias that had been ingrained in them since Dean was 4 years old and Sam 6 months. In the face of the question, “are all monsters monstrous?” the narrative loosens its control. Even by questioning it, it throws into doubt the overarching narrative of John’s plan, which is usurped at the end of season 2 when they kill Azazel by Dean’s demon deal and a new narrative unfolds. John as author-god is usurped by the actual God in season 4, who has his own narrative that controls the lives of Sam, Dean and Cas.

Okay like for real, I do actually think the metanarrativity in Supernatural is something that should be studied by someone other than me, unless you wanna pay me for it and then shit yeah. It is extremely cool to introduce a biographical narrative about the fictional narrative it’s in. It’s cool that the characters are constantly calling this narrative into focus by fighting against it, struggling to break free from their textual confines to live a life outside of the external forces that control them. And the thing is? The really real, honest thing? They have. Sam, Dean and Cas have broken free of the narrative that Kripke, Carver, Gamble and Dabb wrote for them. The very fact that the textual confession of love that Cas has for Dean ushered in a resurgence of fans, fandom and activity that has kept the show trending for five months after it ended, is just phenomenal. People have pointed out that fans stopped caring about Game of Thrones as soon as it ended. Despite the hold they had over tv watchers everywhere, their cultural currency has been spent. The opposite is true for Supernatural. Despite how the finale of the show angered and confused people, it gains more momentum every day. More fanworks, more videos, more fics, more art, more ire, more merch is being generated by the fans still. The Supernatural subreddit, which was averaging a few posts a week by season 15, has been incensed by the finale. And yours truly happily traipsed back into the fandom snake pit after 8 years with a smile on my face and a skip in my step ready to pump that dopamine straight into my veins babeeeeeeyyyyy. It’s been WILD. I recently reconnected with one of my mutuals from 2010 and it’s like nothing’s changed. We’re both still unhinged and we both still simp for Supernatural. Even before season 15, I was obsessed with the podcast Ride Or Die, which I started listening to in late 2019, and Supernatural was always in the back of my mind. You just don’t get over your first fandom. Actually, Danny Phantom was my first fandom, and I remember being 12 talking on Danny Phantom forums to people much too old to be the target audience of the show. So I guess that hasn’t left me either. And the fondest memories I have of Supernatural is how the characters have usurped their creators to become mythic, long past the point they were supposed to die a quiet death. The myth weaving that the Supernatural fandom is doing right now is the legacy that will endure.

References

I got all of these for free from Google Scholar!

Judith May Fathallah, “I’m A God: The Author and the Writing Fan in Supernatural.”

James K A Smith, “A Little Story About Metanarratives: Lyotard, Religion and Postmodernism Revisited.” 2001.

Cameron Lee, “Agency and Purpose in Narrative Therapy: Questioning the Postmodern Rejection of Metanarrative.” 2004.

Harri Englund and James Leach, “Ethnography and the Meta Narratives of Modernity.” 2000.

https://uproxx.com/filmdrunk/mel-brooks-explains-french-mistake-blazing-saddles-blu-ray/

#transcripts #supernatural #supernatural podcast #<60mins #this is first and foremost a podcast about cas and misha collins

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years

Text

If You Just Realize

Part Six: Projecting

Summary: After being called to pick up Milena in the middle of the night, the weight of things causes friction between Sebastian and Y/N. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 2075 Series Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Chapter Warnings: Couple curse words, hospital setting, stroke, light angst/confusion. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language.

Series Masterlist

GIF Credit

The wedding plans came together quickly. Without anything elaborate in mind, there weren’t a lot of details to work out. The dress had been purchased that afternoon, with Georgeta and Milena’s help before Milena went back to Alice and Tim’s house until the day of the wedding. Y/N’s immediate family and her grandmother would be in New York the day after tomorrow, the wedding would take place at City Hall the day after that, and then they would be married.

Married. I’m marrying him. Seb’s going to be my husband, Y/N thought to herself as she stared up at the ceiling in the guest bedroom at Sebastian’s apartment. She had explained that she was getting overwhelmed and needed a little space. Sebastian was honest: he was feeling overwhelmed, too, and some space might be a good thing for both of them.

“Not a bad start to a marriage, as far as honest communication,” Y/N mumbled to herself, trying to get comfortable. Her efforts were in vain, however, and when Sebastian knocked on the guest room door a few minutes before midnight, he only had to do so once before Y/N was sitting up and telling him to come in. He was still in the same t-shirt and sweats he had gone to bed in, but now he had donned sneakers and was stuffing the essentials — phone, keys, wallet — into his pockets.

He leaned in the doorway then. “Sorry to wake you. Tim Hill is in the hospital; they think he had a stroke. Alice just called me, I’ve got to go get Milena. I didn’t want you to worry if you woke up and I was gone. I guess I could have texted you …”

“No, no,” Y/N assured, throwing back the covers and sliding out of bed. “I was awake. I’ll go with you — if you want.”

Sebastian’s tired half-smile conveyed his relief. Y/N hurried to put on some leggings with the t-shirt she had gone to bed in and push her feet in a pair of sneakers, then followed Sebastian out to his car. The drive to the hospital was silent, and when they arrived, they met in front of the parked car and joined hands without either of them thinking twice.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Alice greeted quietly. She turned and motioned to Milena, who was asleep on a cushioned bench in a private waiting room. “I hated to wake her and bring her here but hated even more to not come with Tim. I suppose that’s selfish of me.”

Y/N shook her head while Sebastian scooped Milena up from the bench. “Not at all — you should be here. If there’s anything we can do …”

“Coming to get her is a huge help,” Alice sighed. Her eyes were puffy from a lack of sleep and from crying. “I thought I was going to lose him, you know. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

Milena whimpered, holding tighter to Sebastian. All three of them focused on her for the moment, waiting to see if the whimpers would become full-on cries, but only a few seconds later, the little girl was asleep again.

Alice brushed some hair away from Milena’s face. “Get her home and get her to sleep. I know you two have big plans coming up, and I’ll help where I can, but —”

“Don’t even think about it,” Y/N responded kindly, hugging Alice. “You take care of Tim. We’re all in this together, yeah?”

The older woman nodded and shed a few tears returning Y/N’s embrace. With one more reminder to call if they needed anything, Y/N followed Sebastian and Milena back out to the car.

“Thank goodness you convinced me to keep a carseat in here,” Sebastian sighed. “I can’t imagine trying to figure that out at this hour and under the circumstances.”

Y/N gave him a tired smile. “Just being proactive is all — I’m here to help, remember? I’m doing what I’m here to do.”

Sebastian finished buckling Milena in, then turned to see Y/N still standing behind him. “I’ve buckled her in before, you know.”

“I know,” Y/N smirked, “but you’re also tired and a little worked up. Like I said, I’m here to help. I’m your backup, your support. If that has to be for something as little as getting her buckled into her seat, then so be it. Eventually you’ll learn the ropes and you won’t need me anymore, but for now …”

She trailed off with a shrug. Sebastian gave her half of a smile, gently squeezing her arm and kissing her forehead.

The call from Philip came mid-morning, before any of them were awake. Sebastian scrambled to answer the phone before it woke Milena.

When they had returned to his apartment, Milena was asleep in Sebastian’s bed for all of ten minutes before she woke up screaming. Nothing they could think of could console her; her eyes were open but it was almost as though she didn’t see them. It had taken over two hours to get her to calm down, when she finally fell asleep in Sebastian’s bed again, Y/N on one side of her and Sebastian on the other. The two adults had a hard time falling back asleep, waiting to see if the girl would have another episode.

“Phil, hey, good morning,” Sebastian greeted, checking that both girls were still sleeping before he closed the bedroom door behind him.

“I’ve got news,” the lawyer returned. “Apparently you’re already aware of Tim Hill’s medical emergency last night. Alice Hill’s lawyer contacted me this morning to tell me they’re filing a motion to delay the case. You’ll be granted temporary custody of Milena. They’re asking for visitation during this time, of course, but it doesn’t look like Tim’s going to be able to take care of himself, let alone help take care of a little girl, any time soon.”

Sebastian drew in a deep breath. “All right so … what happens next?”

“You have Milena now?”

“Yeah. We picked her up from the hospital last night.”

Philip paused. “As long as you allow them to see Milena within reason, we can move forward with legal guardianship, adoption — whatever you and Y/N would prefer. As a professional courtesy, we should keep their lawyer and the Hills informed, but the decision is up to you. There’s no reason why we can’t use this time to build your case.”

He yawned and rubbed a hand over his face, forcing himself to move toward the kitchen and start the coffee pot. “I should probably talk to Y/N/N about that, I suppose, since we’re getting married.”

“So that’s still a thing, huh?” Philip asked on a sigh.

“Yes,” Sebastian chuckled, “it’s still a thing. I want to marry her, I’m going to marry her. I’ll talk to her when the girls are up and shoot you an email. Thanks for the update.”

“You’ll get my bill,” Philip teased.

With a quiet chuckle, Sebastian disconnected the call and tossed his phone on the counter. The coffee started to brew, the smell drawing Y/N from bed and into the kitchen.

“Morning,” she yawned. “You making coffee for one or two?”

“Two,” Sebastian smirked. “Milena still sleeping?”

Y/N nodded, covering another yawn with her hand. “Yeah, she’s out like a light. Lucky girl. We have to keep an eye on those terrors — maybe ask Alice if it’s happened before. Neither of us are working right now but eventually we will be. Not only do we need to sleep, but she’s going to have to stay behind and if we don’t get these issues under control now —”

“Philip called,” Sebastian interrupted, unable to listen to anything more about Milena’s potential issues, “because the Hills are putting off the custody battle. Tim’s going to be okay but he needs recovery time. As long as I — we — let them see her a reasonable amount, she’s mine. Ours. For the time being — uh, temporary custody, Phil said. I don’t — uh, we have a choice. We can do legal guardianship, we can adopt her. But since we’re getting married, we have to decide together what kind of a case we want to build.”

Y/N licked her lips and crossed her arms. “One tough subject to the next, huh?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and turned to the cupboard to pull down two mismatched mugs. He filled both of them with coffee and handed one to Y/N. Neither of them said anything for several minutes. Finally, Y/N set the half-full cup of coffee on the counter and made for the doorway.

“I’m gonna change and go for a run,” she said quietly.

Sebastian set his own coffee down and caught up to her in the front room; he gripped her arm, turning her to face him.

“We have to decide this!”

She wrenched her arm from his hold and pointed a stern finger at him. “No, Sebastian, you have to decide. I am going for a run.”

The door to the second bedroom slammed behind her. A few seconds later, Milena cried from Sebastian’s bed. With a sigh and a hand through his hair, Sebastian put on the happiest face he could muster and went to tend to his niece.

Y/N ran until her legs would no longer push her to run. What she was running from, she had no idea but she suddenly felt as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Maybe because she and Sebastian had never had any sort of tension between them, let alone an actual argument.

Not to mention, the strength with which she was feeling as if his life was her life was downright frightening. Sebastian was her friend, one of her best friends, but the impending wedding and ready-made family …

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Kennedy,” Y/N confessed to her closest friend back in Los Angeles. She had stepped into a smoothie cafe to recharge before starting the run back to the apartment and, feeling panic set in, called her friend.

Kennedy yawned. “Slow down, Y/N/N. I get that you’re up and going already, but we’re three hours behind you back here, remember?”

“Oh shit,” Y/N groaned. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, just — just freaking out.”

“Okay, okay — like I said, slow down. First of all, I didn’t even expect for you to be gone for so long, and then you call me freaking out and I don’t even know — what’s going on out there?”

Y/N drew in a deep breath before she spilled out every detail over the next several minutes — about Sebastian, about Milena, about the wedding. About how scared she was to want what she was getting but wouldn’t be allowed to keep.

“First of all, you need to take some deep breaths. Then, you’ve got to decide what you really want here. Sebastian is someone who I know means a lot to you, and I think you’re more concerned what all of this will do to your friendship as opposed to if you can take all of this on or how you’re gonna feel when it’s over.”

“You’re probably right,” Y/N sighed, leaning back in the booth. She took a long sip from her smoothie and swallowed it down. “Either way, I don’t want to lose him.”

Kennedy cleared her throat and yawned again. “I’m happy to support you through all of this, you know — in fact, I’m going to find the soonest flight out and try to make it for the wedding — but I really think you should talk to Sebastian about all of this. He’s probably just as overwhelmed as you are.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him. And Ken, you don’t have to come out for the wedding — it’s so last minute!”

“I’m gonna be there, so shut your mouth,” Kennedy chuckled. “Go talk to Sebastian, Y/N/N. Tell him what you’re feeling. You’ve been there for him through all of this and that’s great, but you still have to let him be a friend to you, too.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks. Let me know when you’re coming in, I’ll get you from the airport.”

Kennedy promised she would keep Y/N informed about her flight, and they ended the call. Y/N finished off her smoothie and stretched a little, tucking her phone into her hoodie pocket and leaving an extra tip for the staff before taking off down the sidewalk again.

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @captain-rogers-beard @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @jackryanplz @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl @averyrogers83 @jennmurawski13 @connie326

IYJR: @elsatxx @tanelle83 @amanda-teaches @etherealwaifgoddess @kmuir1 @ntlmundy @jayankles @rebekahdawkins @denise1605 @rhadigen @peace-love-hobbitness @itsallyscorner @mizzzpink @auspiciousharriet @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @learisa @tellmewhatyouwill

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #sebastian stan #reader insert #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #queue and i remember budapest very differently

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jamielea81 · 4 years

Text

When We Were Young

Chapter 1

Description: Leaving the only home your daughter had ever known wasn’t part of the grand plan. But then again, sometimes taking chances can change your whole life. And you should know that, you’ve been doing that since the start.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, maybe a curse word or two.

Word Count: 2,271

A/N: Super nervous about this one. As always, this is strictly for fun as I know nothing about the personal life of Chris Evans. This series takes place in 2018.

*Italics are internal thoughts*

This is it. This…is…it. Okay, deep breath. Plaster on that smile.

“We’re almost there,” you sing-songed.

“Mom…” your daughter Ellie groaned.

Turning your head to the side, your co-pilot was currently nose deep in a book.

Better than her phone.

She’s a great kid and you really couldn’t complain. At fifteen you were pulling away from your parents as were most of your friends. It had been the two of you for so long that you were closer than ever. She didn’t keep secrets from you and you didn’t keep any from her. That had been your deal for years.

“I’m hoping we beat the moving truck there. Would hate to pay them to sit around,” you said eyeing the clock on the dash.

“It’s a moving truck and you don’t exactly have a light foot,” she replied, tucking in a bookmark and setting her book on her lap.

“What are you implying Ellington?” Smirk ever-present in your voice.

“It’s just that you tend to speed mother dear. When we were on the open roads in North Carolina that was one thing, but I don’t think you’ll get away with that in Boston.”

“Just wait until you start driving. You’re going to be worse than me!” you laughed. “But your probably right.”

“Don’t forget to sign me up for classes. You promised after the move you’d enroll me.”

“I know and I will. Let’s just get the school tour and the first few days of classes settled first. One step at a time,” you replied, giving her a soft smile.

Where did the time go?

“And are you ready?” she questioned.

“Ready for what?” you asked, small frown appearing on your lips.

“You’re new job. The new house. It’s an entirely different part of the country. It’s a lot,” Ellie sighed out. “Even I know that and I’m the one that wanted this change.” She placed her hand over your right hand that held the steering wheel.

“I’m ready.” You nodded your head because you really were. “This is for you, baby. But a little part of this is for me too. Change is good,” you said shrugging your shoulders. “That’s what they say right?” You gave her a questioning look which she chuckled at.

“Absolutely, mom,” Ellie agreed.

Despite your concern, the two of you made it to the townhome before the movers. The car was unloaded and food ordered before they even pulled up.

All of your furniture had survived the move, but now that you had it in the house, the beach vibe really wasn’t matching with the old brick row home. If your savings weren’t mostly depleted, you’d consider purchasing a new living room and dining room set. Only one box of miscellaneous knickknacks was damaged beyond repair from the move up the coast. According to your daughter, it was just an excuse to go shopping.

Ellie was tucked away in her new room organizing her clothes, promising she’d actually go to sleep in the next thirty minutes. It was a big day for her and you as she would tour her new school. The school specializing in engineering was the reason you were here. While Ellie didn’t inherit the social awkwardness you experienced in junior high and most of high school, she was also incredible smart. How your beautiful daughter turned out so well rounded only being raised by you was a bit of a mystery, but you thanked your lucky stars every night.

When Ellie came to you ten months ago with a glittery pink folder filled with the school’s brochure, a list of courses she planned to take, a breakdown of tuition cost, nearby neighborhoods, and a recommendation for one of her teachers, you knew she was serious. She had been talking about Harvard since she was nine years old when her school had a special speaker that had mentioned graduating from the esteemed university. She reminded you that when she did start her college career there, because she knew she’d get in, it would be a lot easier on you if you lived locally. Sometimes she was too smart for her own good.

Reaching out to a of couple old NYU classmate who lived in Boston was the easy part. Getting your small two-bedroom bungalow solid was the tough part. The house sat on the market for two months without so much as a nibble. The two of you got to work painting every room, replacing light fixtures, baseboards, and outlets. It paid off in the end as your house was in escrow a month later.

While you liked having a detached home, it wasn’t in the budget in Boston or in any of the surrounding suburbs. Your old classmate Hillary, who was happy to reconnect really steered you toward a row home. After searching Google for months, you found a rental in the town of Belmont that was conveniently located near Ellie’s high school. And just like that, you were saying goodbye to the only town she had ever known.

Wine. You needed wine if you were going to stop worrying and get some sleep yourself. If only you could find a wine glass. Digging through the one of three boxes labeled “dishes”, you gave up your search when you came up empty after the first box.

“A coffee cup will do.”

Filling the mug three quarters of the way full, you headed back to the couch, resting your feet up on the cushions and thought about how your lives were going to change. Ellie was excited for a new city and school, but you were sure she also held onto some anxiety on the inside as she tended to do.

When you were three months pregnant, you moved to Wilmington North Carolina with your college classmate Peter who was nice enough to offer you a place to stay. You certainly couldn’t go home to Kentucky. Not when you were pregnant and single. Not that you wanted to anyway. Wilmington is where you built your life for the last sixteen years and you missed it already.

You grew up in a very structured home. Middle child to wealthy parents who weren’t shy about how much they had. They had goals for you and for the most part, you obeyed. Piano lessons, cello lessons, dance, although, that one ended shortly after you started. Private schools, tutors, math camp, really anything that would help you succeed. You did well in school because you worked hard. Not that you had a choice really. College and then back home to work for your father’s company. No doubt they had a short list of potential husbands handpicked for you by your sixteenth birthday. You’d be engaged by twenty four, married, by twenty five, first child by twenty seven. It wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted to plan out the rest of your life, not have it planned out for you. Having a child on your own terms was very much a part of your plans.

Leaving work early after only two weeks at Hayward Financial was not on your calendar for the day. Two appointments with new clients had to be canceled with new ones set up for the following week. Receiving a call from Middlebury Engineering Academy that your daughter missed third and fourth period was most certainly not a call you expected to get. She loved school. Always had perfect attendance except for that one year where she got very sick with the flu and had to miss three days. Missing class was more painful to Ellie than the illness itself. Maybe you missed something. Maybe she wasn’t as happy as she seemed. She already had a small group of friends but maybe they weren’t good kids. You slammed your hands on the steering wheel.

“Where are you Ellington Rae?”

You had already called her cellphone three times and texted her twice as much but she wasn’t responding. Home was your first stop but she wasn’t there. The coffee shop was next. It was a favorite for the two of you, stopping there at least four days a week. Unfortunately, they hadn’t seen her. The pizza place, sandwich shop, frozen yogurt kiosk, library, that clothing boutique she had been begging you to take her to since her friend Carmen had mentioned it, all turned up empty. On the verge of tears, you pulled back into your driveway for the second time that day and called your best friend who not only felt a thousand miles away but actually was a thousand miles away in Wilmington. This was the hard part about moving somewhere new. You hadn’t met the neighbors, hadn’t introduced yourself to the parents of Ellie’s friends, barely knew her teachers. You had never felt more alone than you did at that moment.

“Gwen…” you said, voice barely holding on.

“What’s wrong? Shit. Give me a second, I’m going to step outside,” she said.

You got out of the car, walking up the stairs with the phone attached to your ear and your bag in your other hand. You pushed your shoulder up to hold the phone in place while you dug for the keys.

“Okay, tell me what’s going on.

“It was a mistake coming here,” you sobbed, dropping the keys on the kitchen island. “I miss Wilmington.”

“Oh babe. You love it there. You already told me you do,” she sighed.

“Not anymore. We’re coming home. I just need, um I just need to get out of my lease. We can stay with you right?”

“Always. But that’s not going to happen. Now tell me what’s bringing this panic on.”

“I can do this. Just act like you know what you’re doing,” Ellie said to herself, taking a big breath, straightening her shoulders, and walking out the door.

Leaving campus after second period was a lot easier than she thought it would be. Between the hustle and bustle of the hallway, watching the exits apparently wasn’t a thing teachers did. She walked three blocks from campus and ordered an Uber. The app was already on her phone from when her mom’s car got a flat and they decided to get lunch rather than sit around the repair shop. Her mom would be mad at her, but this was worth it and she would apologize for it later.

Her driver dropped her off in front of the booming convention center. She’d always wanted to go to one of these things, just never figured she’d be ditching school to do it. The building was massive with an impressive architectural roof. The engineer in her was beaming, but she wasn’t here for that. No, she was on a schedule. This was her one chance and she wasn’t going to blow it standing outside. Walking past the dozen or so smokers, she made her way inside the convention center, making a stop at the registration table to grab her credentials. While most attendees lined up early to be let in as soon as the doors were open, Ellie was not the average attendee.

Checking her phone for the time, she saw the dozen or so missed calls and texts. She was going to be in so much trouble when she got home and she honestly hated herself for making her mom worry. Ellie had an hour before she could line up for the one photograph she purchased months ago. Deciding to kill time in the vendor room seemed like the best option. Maybe she could buy something for you to make up for giving you wrinkles at an early age.

After browsing for some time, Ellie settled on two matching beaded bracelets in your favorite color for each of you. Maybe when you finally forgave her, you’d wear them and go to brunch like the two of you enjoyed doing back in Wilmington.

Combing her fingers through her hair for the fourth time, Ellie leaned to the side to check the length of the line once more. There were maybe twenty to twenty five people ahead of her, so she knew it would go fast. But if she had to hear how hot Chris Evans was one more time, she was going to scream. Ellie had rehearsed what she was going to say a million times in her head, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able verbalize the words. An opportunity like this wouldn’t happen again, at least not one this easily.

She was led into a room with two other girls not much older than herself. They were here together and couldn’t stop giggling. Chris said hello and both said hello in unison causing Ellie to sigh.

“How do you want to pose for the photo?” Chris asked.

“Could we both hug you?” one of the girls asked.

“Yeah, that would be okay,” Chris replied, giving them each a smile which only caused them to giggle more and Ellie to roll her eyes.

After the girls said goodbye, two more people were ushered in the room behind Ellie. The assistant urged her forward to a smiling Chris.

“Hi sweetheart. How would you like to pose for our photo?” Ellie gulped in reply. “Don’t be nervous. How about I just give you a side hug?”

Ellie nodded her head as Chris wrapped his arm around her waist. She turned her head to face him, seeing that he wasn’t looking at her, but at the camera.

“You’re my dad,” she exclaimed.

Chris whipped his head to the side to face her. “What?” he whispered.

“You’re my father.”

Chapter 2

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