#and I’m gonna try and fit Michael into it somewhere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bepractical · 1 year

Text

Kin: Season 1, Episode 8, Part 1

It’s the final episode! The plan is afoot! Eamon’s gonna die! Con too! I don’t have to worry about spoilers anymore because the season is over! In this episode: Amanda and Michael execute an excellent plan with one tiny possible wrinkle; Eric has a dastardly plan of his own that unfortunately hinges on the rattest rat to ever rat; Jimmy breaks my heart with some of his best scenes of the series (and that’s saying something); Frank continues to be useless; Eamon screws over Amanda one last time; and Michael may or may not pick up a pharmacist.

See the masterlist here.

Who's ready?

We open with an overhead shot of the airport parking lot, where the Kinsellas have hid the van of drugs in plain sight. Amanda pulls up, shimmies out a big bag of drugs and leaves.

Next we head to Kem’s place, where Amanda’s come to ask a favor/blackmail him into helping with their assassinations.

He tries to shut her out but she starts loudly thanking him for saving Michael’s life by telling her about Anna’s tail, much to the interest of his nosey neighbors. He lets her in.

Back in the compound sometime later, Amanda and Michael build a fire on the patio. How romantic! I’m a wee bit disappointed we didn’t get to see them hatch this plan, which was executed in the time it took Frank and Jimmy to drive home.

Amanda calls Con. He totally missed the memo that she’s done with all their nonsense. When his crabby ass refuses to let her talk to Eamon, she sends him a video of her burning the drugs, which she’ll continue to do every twelve hours until Eamon agrees to meet with her. Good plan!

The credits get a makeover. Very subtle guys, A+.

Eamon calls and Amanda coerces him into meeting her in person. Eamon tells her to swing by his hotel but she brings up Birdy and her bruised face so he agrees to think of somewhere they’ll both be safe. He tries to convince Amanda to stop burning his drugs in the meantime but Amanda’s all LOL, nope. Aw, poor Eamon. Bet he wishes he’d given them Caolan Moore now, huh?

At the prison, Eric gets checked in, or whatever it’s called.

The guard tells him he’s stuck in the protection unit. Eric insists they put him with Bren and they spill the beans- Bren wants nothing to do with his dumb ass.

Aviva! One last glamour shot for the road!

At the compound, Frank and Jimmy finally arrive home from the prison.

Amanda, Michael, Birdy and Anthony are waiting for them. Was Birdy a part of the plotting with Michael and Amanda? That would have been awesome.

Jimmy the mushball is over the moon to see his remaining kiddo. He gives him a hug and kiss before Amanda ushers Anthony upstairs. Time for business.

Amanda and Michael explain what happened with Anna and Anthony. Jimmy, at least, is pissed. Amanda tells them about the prospective meeting with Eamon. If Eamon doesn’t agree to meet, Michael is going to kill him. Interesting they’re not disclosing the whole plan, in which Michael kills Eamon regardless of how well he cooperates.

Frank is pissed. After getting shit on by Bren his ego is very fragile and he’s furious to hear all these plans have been made behind his back.

Amanda: This is what we’re doing, Frank. If you want to go abroad and hide, that’s your decision.

Amanda is D-O-N-E with Frank and it’s awesome. He responds by immediately throwing a hissy fit, one that MICHAEL has to interrupt. MICHAEL. This is not a good day for Frank.

Michael points out Birdy’s wounds from Eamon and tries to redirect his anger but rational Frank has gone out the window. He refuses to recognize the necessity of killing Eamon- and it is necessary at this point- and tries to frame it as Michael and Jimmy being manipulated by Amanda. Ugh, Frank. Finally he leaves, storming next door with Birdy behind him. Amanda looks a little surprised by that, which is interesting.

Birdy tries to calm Frank down but he’s hell bent on blaming Amanda and accusing her of trying to take over the family, which is true to an extent, but only to save them from Frank’s incompetence.

Back at Jimmy and Amanda’s, Amanda tells Jimmy about everything that’s been happening, from Eamon stopping her in the road to Kem being a rat. Jimmy is flabbergast, until he notices Michael’s lack of reaction to these revelations. Then he’s just aghast. More on that later.

Back at Birdy’s, Frank tells her about his meeting with Bren.

In summary, Bren is still Bren, meaning no help will be coming to Eric in jail. Frank's a wreck. Birdy gently promises they’ll sort something out but they both know that’s a lie.

At the prison, Eric gets taken to his cell in the protection unit. It sounds miserable, with a lot of isolation that will not be great for our social butterfly. Small note, Eric is wearing the same clothes as Michael in the first episode when he was let out of prison.

And now the most devastating conversation in this episode, Michael and Jimmy: The Reckoning.

They’re hanging in the kitchen when Jimmy asks when Amanda told Michael about Kem. Michael claims not to remember but after some prodding he admits it was after the attack on the cafe. The conversation that follows is brutal. Let’s transcribe it for maximum impact!

Jimmy: You know what I often wonder? Why you didn’t just let me know about you two back then. You could’ve just told me…that you loved her…that she loved you. That you wanted to be with her. You could’ve just said it. Why didn’t you say it?

Michael: Suppose I…didn’t want to hurt ya.

Jimmy: Thing is, if you’d just told me back then, I would’ve been gutted, I would’ve been fuckin’ raging, but I know I’d have gotten over it, eventually. I would’ve moved on. Could’ve met someone else. I’d be happy.

Michael: I’m sorry.

Jimmy: I just wish you’d told me back then, is all.

Oof. There are so many things happening here, I had to make a separate post (two technically- see this post for my screenshots of this scene in particular). To sum up: Jimmy is our emotional ‘in’ on the show; Michael still isn’t willing to be emotionally vulnerable with his brother for reasons unknown; and despite all the soft and fluffy Jimmy feelings this scene gives me, Jimmy spends no time contemplating or recognizing his own fault in his and Amanda’s relationship during this conversation.

Right as the brothers reach peak angst, Amanda interrupts them. It perfectly mirrors Jimmy barging in on Amanda and Michael’s conversation about Jamie a few episodes ago. She clocks the weirdness but they have bigger fish to fry. Eamon’s called with a location for the meet. It’s time to get this plan underway.

But first! Michael sits at home and thoughtfully sips a beverage, as he is wont to do.

He jogs out to the Garda watching the compound and asks for the favor. Cut to him standing in a pharmacy.

I love when the Kinsellas use the cops as their personal valet/protection squad. Remember when they had to sit outside that derelict building where Frank and Jimmy met Beady? Good times.

Michael’s name gets called by a cute pharmacist.

That would be weird, right? You’re just grabbing some aspirin and chapstick and the pharmacist calls out the name of a known gangland assassin? The pharmacist, at least, is unfazed. Possibly because Michael looks like a sad kitten in need of cuddles 99% of the time.

She starts to give him a spiel about usage and side effects for his medication, but he’s obviously uncomfortable. He wants to know if the medicine will make him normal again.

She prevents herself from leaping over the counter and giving him a hug, but only just. (It’s possible I’m projecting.) She invites him to come back and see her if the meds give him any trouble and keeps a close eye on him as he walks out the door and into the back seat of the cop car.

She was flirting, right? It was subtle, aside from her blatantly checking out his ass on his way out (see above). Still, I'd like to see her again.

Part 2 is here!

#kin amc #michael kinsella #amanda kinsella #jimmy kinsella #frank kinsella #birdy goggins #a whole lotta kinsellas #charlie cox #emmett j scanlan #clare dunne

11 notes · View notes

pastelwitchling · 3 years

Text

Alex had both palms braced on the console, breathing deeply, and trying not to spiral into the hurricane of questions and horrifying scenarios his brain was making. He had to stay focused.

“What about the security cameras?” Liz said somewhere behind him.

“We checked them, there’s no hint where he could be,” Max said with a little edge. “Whoever did this knew exactly where to stand to keep hidden.”

“It was Mr. Jones,” Alex muttered, thinking. “It had to be.”

“He hasn’t woken up yet,” Liz was starting, but Alex cut her off.

“Not alone, but he did do this,” he said. “This is how my dad works. He uses people, whoever he needs to. He used Michael when he’d taken me, and now he’s used Mr. Jones.”

It wasn’t right, not completely, Alex knew. Something about this whole plan to take Michael and leave Mr. Jones behind felt off, it felt sloppy. His dad was many things, but not sloppy. The finer details though didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Michael was gone, and Alex was on the verge of losing his mind. Maybe he already had. That didn’t matter either.

“I want to talk to him,” Alex demanded. “See what he knows.”

“Alex,” Max started to shake his head, “we don’t know what he’s capable of, even under the pollen, he could be too dangerous to –”

“I’ve seen things that would give you nightmares, Max Evans,” Alex hissed, and the room fell silent. “Right now, the only danger you have to worry about is me. None of you know anything about interrogation, I’m taking over.”

It was not a request, and Max and Isobel didn’t hear it that way. They took Alex back to Max’s house, through his large living room, into the guest bedroom where Mr. Jones was being kept.

Alex had expected him to look like Max’s twin, but there was something unhinged in the darkness of his eyes that Max definitely didn’t have, a twisted curl to his mouth that said he knew Max and Alex were vibrating with fear for Michael, and that it made him happy.

“Well, well,” he said slowly, his voice hoarse despite the upward quirk of his lips. “Aren’t you a pretty one? I was wondering when I’d get to see you here, Jesse Manes Jr.”

“It’s Alex, actually,” Alex said, kneeling in front of Mr. Jones and peering up at him. There were dark circles around his eyes, his cheeks were hollow, his shoulders slumped with an undeniable exhaustion. There was a single needle wound in his neck.

“You took someone that belongs to me,” Alex said quietly, and Mr. Jones tilted his head, his eyes locked on Alex’s. “And I want him back.”

Mr. Jones started to laugh. It was breathy, his voice cracked, and it faded into a fit of coughs, but he was clearly amused, nonetheless.

“That’s sweet,” he murmured. “You’re sweet. I kinda like you.”

“Enough with your stupid games,” Max warned. “Tell us where my brother is, or you’re going to wish you were never born.”

Mr. Jones gasped mockingly. “Goodness me, brother. What’re you gonna do? Lecture me to death?” His laughs grew louder, stronger. “I know you too well. You put on the villain face, but in the end, you ‘aint got the nerve.” He looked down at Alex, and sneered, like his next words were the most insulting he could think of. “You’re heroes. You see the good in everyone, even a lunatic like Jesse Manes. Now that man is dark. View’s too limited though, too narrow-minded. Can’t see the big picture.”

Alex stared. “You won’t tell us where Michael is? That’s your final answer?” Mr. Jones opened his mouth to retort, but Alex coldly cut him off. “Keep in mind that this is your last chance to talk.”

Mr. Jones’ smile widened and he tilted his head. In a singsong voice, he responded, “Michael’s gonna diiii—eeee.”

Alex’s eye twitched. “Max,” he said, his voice unfamiliar to his own ears. “Can I have a minute please?”

Max must’ve known something bad was about to happen because he quietly responded, “Sure, Alex. Just don’t kill him.”

Alex clenched his jaw, his eyes unmoving from Mr. Jones. He wouldn’t kill him. Dead men couldn’t talk.

Max regretted leaving the second the door closed behind him. Isobel, Liz, and Kyle looked up from where they sat on the couch, waiting for an answer.

“Did you find out where Michael is?” Isobel demanded.

Max shook his head. “He won’t talk, no matter what I say.” He punched the wall. “He’s having too much fun.”

“I don’t get it,” Kyle shook his head. “Jesse Manes left him to get caught. How could he still be defending him?”

Max didn’t say his biggest fear; Mr. Jones didn’t care if Jesse had left him so long as he was killing Michael and the rest of them were suffering for it. He would have fun watching no matter what.

Kyle was staring at the guest bedroom door from his seat on the armrest, his arms crossed. “Why’s Alex still in there? Shouldn’t you help him? You’re the one with the powers.”

“Alex wanted a minute alone with him,” Max said, avoiding their eyes.

Liz, of course, noticed right away. “Max,” she said, “what aren’t you telling us?”

Max shook his head. Alex was just worried, they were all worried. He was fine. He opened his mouth to say that when Mr. Jones suddenly screamed.

The others shot to their feet, Isobel’s hands over her mouth, her eyes wide.

“Oh my god,” Liz breathed.

Oh my god was right, Max thought. That wasn’t any normal scream. It was one of pure and utter agony, like the scream of a man having his limbs slowly torn off.

Max took two long steps to the room when the screams suddenly cut off, and the door opened. Alex was wiping his bloody hand off on his jacket. Max stared. He was not the only one. That blood, they knew, was not Alex’s, but it covered his entire forearm like paint.

“Alex,” Kyle breathed, “what the hell –”

“Caulfield,” Alex said at once, already heading to the door. “He’s at Caulfield.”

It was too late to hide the look in his eyes. Max had seen something in Alex shatter, something dark, something frightening.

“Drive faster,” Alex said through clenched teeth.

“This is as fast as it’ll go, Alex,” Max said. Alex could feel him glancing. “If anything happened to Michael –”

“Don’t.”

“—We’d know,” he finished. “Okay? Isobel and I would’ve felt it. I would’ve felt it.”

Alex felt the smallest bit of reassurance. It was nothing compared to the overwhelming fear and discomfort at not having Michael in his arms, safe and sound. His hand, his fingers, his wrist and forearm, they were still stained with Mr. Jones’ blood. He could still feel the meat of the alien’s flesh as he dug his fingers into the needle wound at his neck, opening up the cut to fit his fingers, until Mr. Jones was screaming. His eyes wide, as though he’d never expected Alex to raise so much as a finger at him. He’d been wrong. He’d taken Michael.

He had no idea what he’d unleashed.

As if hearing his thoughts, Max quietly asked, “What’d you do to him?”

“Doesn’t matter,” was all Alex said, not wanting to linger on the familiar chill of his own voice.

When they reached Caulfield, they were careful to come in the same way they’d come when it had just been Michael, Alex, and Kyle. Alex held his gun up, as did Max. Kyle stayed on Alex’s other side, a taser in his and Liz’s hands while Isobel held her hands up in case of a sudden attack.

Getting in was difficult. It felt like every few feet, a guard came out to stop them. Alex knew these people were trying to keep Michael away from them, and wanted nothing more than to tear into them with his bare hands, but they needed to hurry. He shot each one in the shoulder or leg. There was more than one spot in the human body that rendered the rest of it paralyzed. He didn’t care if they screamed, if they bled out. As far as he was concerned, they’d signed their death warrants when they helped Jesse hide Michael from him. He was being merciful not doing worse.

They moved deeper and deeper into the facility, and by the end of it, it was him and Max with the most stains on their clothes and the more bruises. Better that way. They made it into a long, dark hallway that took them to a sealed room.

Through a small window, Alex could see Michael in a steel chair, his head dropping between his shoulders as an IV strip pumped something that looked a lot like the pollen’s serum and something else into his veins.

There was a keypad next to the door. Without missing a beat, Alex held his gun for Max to take and pulled out his phone.

“Michael!” Isobel called through the window, panicked, but it was no use. He wouldn’t be answering anybody.

“Can’t we break the door down?” Liz demanded.

“It’s reinforced steel and set up to self-destruct,” Alex muttered, typing rapidly on his phone. He knew that hacking software he’d created would come in handy sometime. “Look around you. This place is already falling apart from the last time someone tried to break in.”

“But you can get him out, right?” Max asked Alex.

“Yeah,” Kyle said without missing a beat. Alex could feel him staring. “Yeah, he can do it.”

A second. Two. Three. Four seconds of Alex hearing nothing but the blood rushing in his own ears and the held breaths of everyone around him. The keypad beeped, the steel hinges clicked, and the door swung open. Alex pushed it enough to run in and fall to his knees in front of Michael, yanking the strips out of his arm while Max and Isobel set to work on the cuffs that kept him in the chair.

“Hey,” Alex whispered, lifting his chin gently. “Hey, baby, can you hear me? Michael, look at me, can you hear me?”

Michael’s eyes were half-lidded and hazed. Michael made a soft “Hmm?,” and his gaze focused for a split second. He smiled sleepily.

“You,” he breathed, “you look . . . just like my Alex.”

A small cry escaped Isobel’s lips before she quickly stifled it. Liz put a hand on her back as Kyle undid the rope around Michael’s waist. Jesse was nowhere in sight. He must’ve run the second he heard them arrive, knowing the guards would do nothing but stall for time. None of it mattered.

Alex smiled at Michael. “I am,” he huffed a chuckle, his eyes burning. “I am your Alex. Okay, come on, give me your arm, lean on me.”

“Alex,” Kyle tried, “if your leg hurts, I can –”

Alex cut him a glare so sharp Kyle turned silent at once. He’d apologize for it later. Right now, he needed to feel Michael against him, and he trusted no one but himself to help get him out of this hellhole.

Michael was able to stand, though he leaned most of his weight on Alex, his other arm around Max. His face was in Alex’s hair and he inhaled.

He murmured, “You smell like him, too.”

“Come on, baby,” Alex encouraged, unwilling to ever let go again. “Come on, you can do it, just hold onto me.”

Alex’s fingers and toes had turned numb from the lack of movement in the last two hours, but he didn’t dare stand and walk around. He didn’t dare take his eyes off Michael until he woke up. He’d collapsed almost the second they’d gotten him into Max’s car, but Alex had kept a tight hold on him.

Max’s healing was useless against the pollen, and technically, Michael didn’t need a hospital, but Alex wanted Kyle to have access to whatever he needed to help him.

So they were pumping acetone into his veins instead of saline, they were monitoring his heart rate, even as, by the minute, it was getting better and better. And still, Alex kept close, kept watch, made sure no one but Kyle came in, no one but Kyle changed his IV bag and cleaned his wounds.

At one point, Kyle came in and put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Dude, you need to rest.”

“I’ll rest when he’s awake.”

“Alex –”

“Kyle,” Alex said, his voice clipped. “I’m not leaving him.”

A moment of silence, then, “Are you okay?”

“The man I love was kidnapped by my father, what do you think?”

“Alex.”

Alex glanced at Kyle, and the lump that had been in his throat since he first discovered Michael had gone missing lodged itself firmly in place now, forbidding him to breath steadily. His eyes burned and his lower lip trembled as a horrifying realization that he’d been keeping at bay surfaced now.

He whispered, “I’m just like him.”

“No,” Kyle said immediately. His voice was calm. “You’re not.”

“What I did to Mr. Jones,” he shook his head. “I would’ve killed every single guard in that prison without batting an eye.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.”

“Kyle –”

“You wouldn’t have.” Kyle sat down next to him. “Alex, you’re not your dad. All he ever thought about was himself. You did what you had to do to get Guerin back. Mr. Jones never would’ve told us where he was if you hadn’t – if you hadn’t done what you’d done.”

“I’d do anything for him,” Alex whispered, watching the way Michael’s chest rose and fell with his breaths. “Isn’t that a bad thing?”

“Maybe for some people,” Kyle shrugged a shoulder. “Not for you.”

Alex clenched his jaw. “I’m scared of what I’d become for him.”

“Who you always are is Alex,” Kyle said, and stood, ruffling Alex’s hair. “No matter what you become, that doesn’t change.”

With that, Kyle left them to be alone, and still Alex would not look away from Michael. He sniffled and reached out, taking Michael’s hand in both of his and holding tight.

The lump, the weight on his chest, the pain in his leg, he knew, wouldn’t go away until he got to see Michael was awake and safe. With the knowledge that he would be here all night, Alex squeezed Michael’s hand, and waited.

Michael opened his eyes to a white ceiling, white walls, and white sheets. A steady beep beep beep went on somewhere behind him, there was a warm weight on his left hand and hip, and he realized that he was in a hospital. Before he could start to question why though, he caught the source of the weight.

Alex had his head rested against Michael’s hip, sleeping with pinched brows as his hands clung to Michael’s. Michael stared. It took him a minute to process what he was seeing.

He heard himself breathe slowly, carefully. If this was a dream, he hoped he never woke up. Alex looked so real, his dark, straight hair splayed against the white sheets, his long lashes curled against rosy cheeks, his warm breathing against Michael’s hand as his lips brushed Michael’s fingers.

Michael reached up his thumb to touch Alex’s cheek, to see if it was as soft and warm as it looked (it was), and Alex started awake. His eyes followed Michael’s thumb to his face, and he sat up, a grin splitting his lips.

“Guerin!” he breathed. He stood and cupped Michael’s face. Michael did not miss the way he winced, but his eyes were filling with tears that begged to fall and his smile was so beautiful and happy that Michael couldn’t find it in him to do anything but cling to Alex’s hands just as tightly.

“You’re okay,” he sighed with relief, his fingers gentle on Michael’s jaw. “You’re okay. I’m going to – I should go get Kyle, I –”

“No,” Michael croaked, his throat dry, as he tried to sit up. “No, stay here.”

“Be careful,” Alex said, setting up his pillows and helping him lie down against them. “There you go, careful.” He stood back, looking Michael over for any open wounds. “Do you – uh – what do you need?”

Michael watched him. His fingers were trembling, his eyes twitching, his jaw clenched so tightly Michael feared he was drawing blood. He wordlessly held his arms out, and Alex eyed him a moment before his expression revealed the grief behind it, a sob escaped his lips, and he fell into Michael’s embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried, and Michael’s heart broke. His hold on Alex tightened.

“Don’t,” he growled. “That wasn’t your fault. Got it? It wasn’t your fault, Alex. You’re my hero.”

“I’m not,” Alex whimpered. “You don’t know what I did.”

“I don’t care,” Michael breathed, his hold unbearably, painfully tight now. “I don’t care. You’re always my hero, Private.”

Alex burrowed deeper into his side. He kissed Michael’s shoulder, his neck, his jaw, his cheek, and held his face as he kissed his lips. Michael didn’t care if they weren’t officially together or hadn’t really spoken about their feelings since Alex and Forrest had ended things. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was Alex.

He held Alex back just as desperately, and kissed him again and again and again, until all Alex could do was laugh through his tears.

“I’m sorry,” Alex swallowed, straightening. “I should – I should be more careful. You’re still hurt. Uh –” he wiped his face roughly “—do you want me to get you some water? Juice? Anything you want.”

“You,” was all Michael said, taking hold of Alex’s hand and pulling him onto the bed.

Alex looked startled, but went where Michael guided him until they were both lying on their sides, pressed close together.

“Guerin,” Alex whispered as Michael wrapped an arm around his waist, his forehead against Alex’s. “We can’t do this now, you – you need –”

“You,” Michael whispered back. With his other hand, he traced Alex’s jaw, his lips, down his neck. He couldn’t remember anything after his bunker had been broken into, but he’d been sure of one thing; Alex would bring hell to the doorstep of anyone who dared hurt him.

“All I’ve ever wanted and needed is you,” Michael said into the small space between their lips. Alex’s eyes fluttered, his chin raising so that his lips met Michael’s, as if he couldn’t help himself. Michael was so in love, it hurt him.

Before he closed the distance between them, he whispered, “My Alex.”

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #tw graphic violence #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

77 notes · View notes

alexplayssimsnstuff · 4 years

Text

Bella Goth Disappearance FINALLY Solved!

Back in the day, I had originally subscribed to the theory that Bella was abducted by aliens that were set on her by the Caliente’s who then murdered her when she returned, and so I went in the game to do a walkthrough as to how I came to that theory. That’s when I found that I WAS WAYYYY OFF, there is a whole ass rabbit-hole here, and like a total Alice, I fell in it.

And, after 16 years of wondering and imagining different scenarios, I finally found out the truth. Turns out, we were ALL wrong, and the truth has been staring at us in the face the whole time.

Just as a warning, this is VERY dark and bleak and depressing. Bella wasn’t dealt a good hand, guys. What happened to her was all sorts of MESSED up.

Just for clarity, I do base this off of events that happen in the official sims storyline, because while the game is ultimately up to us to live life as we like, go ahead and do whatever with your game, there IS a story being told here, but in a way that doesn’t conflict with our own free will. It’s ingenious, really. This goes with the main Sims games released for PC and Mac. However, the console versions do provide a lot of insight to further details and situations. Specifically the Sims 2 for PSP, and the Sims 3 for the Nintendo DS.

So, first off, it has been verified what happened to her: In 2014, Twitter held an AMA for the SimGurus just before the release of the Sims 4. Someone asked the following question, and SimGuru Sarah responded.

It was later confirmed that Bella Goth of Lunar Lakes IS the Bella Goth of Pleasantview. She does look like the rest of the ghosts there with pale skin and yellow hair and eyes, and with that in mind, you can see for yourself…

That’s her, alright.

Okay, if she died on Lunar Lakes, there are still questions that need answers:

1. Did she ever go home?

2. Does her family know what happened to her?

3. How did she die on Lunar Lakes?

Well, she died of old age, that can be found out easily enough, but I found the answers to the other two: Kinda and no.

So, just to recap, I’m gonna review Bella’s life as we know it canonically.

Bella was born to Simis and Jocasta Bachelor of Sunset Valley. She grew up the road from her childhood best friend, and later, husband, Mortimer Goth, with her older brother Michael. She always had a sense of the macabre and dark and was known as “the best dressed girl in town.” Even then she wore a red dress. A more child appropriate red dress, but a red dress. She just came from an average suburban family who had a fascination for the not average. She’s still a child, and not a Goth yet. She still goes by the surname Bachelor.

Twenty-five years later, she shows up in the Sims 1 with her childhood best friend and now husband, Mortimer Goth, and they have moved into their own home, and have a daughter, Cassandra. Her in-laws moved out of their home in Sunset Valley and moved into what would later become the Goth House of the Sims 2 in the beginnings of what would be known as Pleasantview. Unless you got her a job, she was a housewife, and she was known to be athletic, elegant, and friendly towards her neighbors. I remember her often being the first to come and say hello to any new Sims I’d move into the neighborhood. Her brother, Michael, is also in town, however, there is no acknowledgement of them being siblings. A family tree system didn’t really exist in the Sims 1, and I’m sure they didn’t even think to make them siblings back then, but the fact remains that they have no relationship at this point in time. The only reason why it’s known that Cornelia and Gunther Goth are Mortimer’s parents is because it straight up says so in the bio. That and their names are the same, but anyway.

So far, things are simple.

That’s because in the 25 years between the Sims 1 and 2, a series of events occurs that really makes things interesting.

Michael joins the science career track. One can assume the reason why he settled into domestic living years after Bella had done so was because he was at grad school. Because he was graduated from grad school, he gets a jumpstart in the career and climbs the latter a lot faster than Mortimer does.

1. Scientist Sims contribute an invention into the Sims world. Michael’s invention was cloning technology. He cloned himself, and a test subject: Skip Broke.

a. Even though he died before it happened, arrangements were made so Brandi could be the next test subject and the first female subject, and when you start Pleasantview for the first time, she is pregnant with her own clone. The baby is always born a boy.

b. Michael’s clones have a 100% rate of being male, genetic identicals to those they were cloned from (Brandi’s just being a boy rather than a girl) and so far, a 100% rate of dying at the same time as the original. They are genetically identical, but wear different clothes.

2. Michael and Bella don’t really have a relationship in their adult lives because Michael leaves Pleasantview early on while Cassandra is still a child and moves to the city.

3. Mortimer follows after Michael, and invents the age reversal serum. Bella is the first test subject, and, the day of her abduction, she takes the serum until she reverts back to being a brand-new adult. Probably to allow herself to fit in her red dress as strikingly as she does, I don’t think an elderly woman could pull that off.

4. Cassandra enters private school.

5. Around this time, Gunther Goth dies. Bella, Mortimer, and Cassandra move out of their home and in with Cornelia to be with her in her last stages of life.

6. Michael marries Dina Caliente. It is speculated that, because of the age gap, they only marry for Michael’s money. But it is worth noting that Michael was Dina’s first serious relationship and she didn’t begin to cheat on Michael with Don until years later just before Michael died.

7. Alexander is born.

8. Shortly after Alexander’s birth, Cornelia dies at the same time Michael does.

9. Dina inherits Michael’s estate and moves in with Nina. They then move to Pleasantview.

10. Don follows them and moves the next day.

11. Bella goes to introduce herself to her new neighbor, Don. They get along, and Don gets the wrong idea and puts the move on Bella. Bella rejects him. He then runs off to go be with Kaylynn and is not there when Bella is abducted by aliens.

12. Bella is never seen again, but shortly after her abduction, a UFO crashlands in Strangetown, and reports that Bella is in Strangetown start rolling in. But, spoiler alert, that’s not the real Bella.

Then, after Bella’s abduction and before you start Pleasantview for the first time, the following happens:

1. Mortimer and Dina hit it off rather fast, and marriage is definitely in the picture when the game first starts.

2. Cassandra, Mortimer, and Alexander all age up on the same day 2 days after Bella disappears.

3. Cassandra goes to Don’s house to find out what he knows about what happened to Bella (jack squat since he wasn’t there) and that’s where they meet for the first time. Don tries to seduce her, probably not knowing who she is, and Cassandra, as much as you gotta love the girl, is naïve as all hell and thinks she won the jackpot and falls for Don quickly.

4. Alexander goes to private school

5. Mortimer retires

6. Cassandra gets engaged the VERY day the game starts.

That is an important thing to note because people like to speculate that Don had something to do with Bella’s disappearance because he made the moves on her mother and they were engaged and he didn’t want to jeopardize that by Bella opening her yap. This is NOT the case because Cassandra was still a teenager when Bella vanished. Don may be a hoe, but he isn’t a pedo. Chris Hansen doesn’t need to be called for this one.

Another important thing to point out is that it’s not known if Dina and Nina knew Bella. At least, not well, since it can’t be established if Michael and Bella had a relationship at all. Despite the fact that they were friends when they were younger, Mortimer has no memories of Michael, and neither do Cassandra or Alexander. They never met their uncle.

ALSO, yes Dina and Nina do have alien ancestry. Their father was a result of an alien abduction pregnancy. But he was born human, so they’re not part alien. Which means they didn’t order ANY aliens to go and kidnap anybody. Why would they? They don’t know her. Not even normal alien sims do that, y’all are just racist.

It’s also worth noting that Mortimer is COMPLETELY fine with Bella being gone. He’s not heartbroken and he isn’t desperately trying to find her like the game tries to suggest. He’s strangely cool about it.

Why is Mortimer fine with Bella being gone?

Because they are no longer married and haven’t been since around the time Alexander was born.

And THAT, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals, is the BIGGEST part that y’all need to just remember. If you can only take one thing away from this part, take away the fact that they’re divorced. It’s S U P E R important.

Now, it is possible to bring Bella back with the Tombstone of Life and Death. She’ll only stick around for a short while because she has a death token that activates when you save the lot, go into Pleasantview, and reload the Goth House. She’ll disappear. Interesting to note that if she’s in the middle of doing something, like talking with a sim or cooking food, she doesn’t disappear completely until she’s done. She does turn see-through and it kinda glitches out…it’s really creepy. Give it a try, you’ll see what I mean. But when she’s done, she’ll disappear, and you’ll get a notification saying she died somewhere else and her spirit has returned to where she was buried.

However, if she dies this way, you cannot resurrect her with the resurrect-o-nomitron. It doesn’t matter who tries it, where they are, or anything. Grim acts like he doesn’t know anything about Bella being dead and even if the Sim COULD resurrect a sim, Bella is not listed.

Since we know Bella is buried in Lunar Lakes, this means she died sometime between the week of her abduction and Cassandra’s wedding where the game starts.

However, while you have Bella in your household, you’ll find she’s brought back with no personality points. She has no memories besides what happened to her children after the first load of Pleasantview. So let’s say that between loading the game and bringing back Bella with the Tombstone, Cassandra gives birth to twin boys. Bella will come back with memories that Cassandra had twins, and she will even know who her grandchildren are. (I use this example because in my most recent Pleasantview playthrough, Cassandra had twin boys named Hendrick and Caspian with Don Lothario.)

Bella will have NO relationship at all whatsoever with Mortimer. You can see before you bring her back on the Goth family tree that they are not married at that point, and Mortimer and Bella start their relationship over as acquaintances. If you let them progress their relationship naturally with no cheats, they actually fight a lot and do not get along at all.

Now, any townie and NPC created before Nightlife will have their turn-on and turn-offs randomized. But it seems to constantly make it so that Bella is never attracted to Mortimer and Mortimer is RARELY attracted to Bella. This is a consistent thing. Interesting to take into consideration.

It’s clear to me, at least, that there were some problems boiling up for some time before Bella vanished.

--they get divorced at around the same time Alexander is born

--they do not get along at all

--Mortimer is completely fine after Bella’s disappearance and isn’t the frantic husband he’s marketed to be at this point in time.

--Mortimer gets into a relationship with Dina Caliente extremely soon after Bella vanishes.

--If Bella does come back and Mortimer is still alive, they naturally do not get along at all.

Which is weird, right? They were always shown to be this desperately in love couple who couldn’t live without eachother. I remember them having a good relationship in the Sims 1.

Also worth noting, Bella is a romance aspiration sim. In the Sims 2, they tend to hoe around a lot. There are a few other adult sims in Pleasantview who are also romance aspiration sims.

1. Don Lothario (the epitome of the romance aspiration)

2. Nina Caliente

3. Daniel Pleasant

4. Skip Broke was also a romance aspiration sim when he was alive.

What is interesting is that while for the most part, romance aspiration sims like to hoe around, there is one exception to this rule so far: Nina Caliente. Nina Caliente’s only romantically involved with Don Lothario. Unless you have another sim start putting the moves on her, then it’s a whole other story. If it were a thing back then, Nina would have been a soulmate romance aspiration while the others would have been serial romantic aspirations.

Bella COULD have been the same way, but that wouldn’t make any sense with the myriad of problems with her relationship with Mortimer.

So, in conclusion, Bella had an affair. Mortimer found out about it, which caused them to, at the least, separate for a while. Then, Bella became pregnant with Alexander, which would have brought up an important question—who is Alexander’s father? Once Alexander was born, and as he got a little older, it becomes clear that he resembles Cornelia, therefore verifying that Mortimer is indeed his father. This would have caused them to try their relationship again, and Bella would have turned down Don in good faith to Mortimer.

Who did Bella have an affair with?

Don wasn’t in town yet, and they hadn’t met. Neither did she meet the Caliente’s yet. Which leaves two possible contenders for Bella’s secret lover: Daniel Pleasant and Skip Broke.

On one hand, Daniel was Bella’s neighbor. She knew the Pleasants, and was friends with Mary-Sue. Daniel had an affair with Kaylynn going on, so he definitely could have some action on the side with Bella, too. My only reservation on that would be that I couldn’t imagine her doing that to her best friend. But then again, she did have an affair on her husband, so who’s to say what her morals are.

Then, there’s Skip Broke. This one makes the most sense to me, personally. While she wasn’t close with Michael, that doesn’t mean she completely avoided him altogether. She would have heard about Michael’s cloning experiments and could have met Skip that way, or she came to say hello and that was how they met. There is a theory going around that Brandi found out Skip was cheating on her, and that’s why she killed him and took his insurance money.

Maybe I’ll do another thing on that because the Skip Broke incident happens to be another rabbit hole altogether.

So, we know that Bella had an affair with Mortimer and things weren’t going so well between them at the time of her disappearance. We know that the Calientes and Don are completely innocent, at least as far as her disappearance goes. (And Nina is innocent altogether, she just loves Don and is completely oblivious to the fact that he’s doing her sister and two other women. She is ALSO a victim here, you guys. Give some love to Nina Caliente, she needs it.)

She dies sometime in the week between her abduction and the first time the Goth household is booted up from old age on Lunar Lakes despite the fact that she was a brand new adult again thanks to Mortimer’s reverse age serum.

Then a UFO crashlands in Strangetown and shortly thereafter reports of Bella Goth being in Strangetown start swarming around.

And yes, this Bella is a clone—there are subtle facial similarities, she is not in the family tree at all for the Goth house, but other than that, she’s structured exactly like the Real Bella goes as far as her outfit, her personality, and her aspiration.

(The Wiki says it’s her despite the fact that it’s been verified she’s not, and it also has MANY discrepencies, saying she’s related to the Curious Family and they appear on her family tree, which is incorrect because Strangetown Bella’s family tree is COMPLETELY EMPTY.)

So, clearly, when Bella was abducted, something went wrong. But what?

Well, why would the aliens even abduct her in the first place?

They tend to go after sims who are wealthy, high-skilled, good-looking, popular, anything like that. Bella was ALL of those things. She was the epitome of the perfect sim to the aliens. They practically worshipped her and their queen took her name and appearance. (This is referenced several times, specifically in the Sims 3.)

So, if something were to go wrong, why would the aliens worship her unless she had been being watched for some time before her abduction?

And what went wrong that caused her to lose her memories, her skills, her personality, her youth, everything?

Aliens also do not abduct children, the elderly, and pregnant sims because their experimentation could go drastically wrong.

She wasn’t a child, and reversed her age so she wouldn’t be an elder for quite some time—

So the only thing that’s left is that she was pregnant when she was abducted and that was why things went wrong.

She wouldn’t have known this, and neither would the aliens—it’s possible that the baby was conceived that day, which helped Bella in the case where Don was hitting on her—she wouldn’t go cheating on Mortimer if she were trying to rekindle their relationship and they had made it to woo-hoo that day.

Also worth noting is that there IS another Goth on Lunar Lakes who happens to look exactly like Bella.

Anyone recognize her?

This is Mathilde Goth.

She is the long-lost third child of Mortimer and Bella Goth.

No, they don’t appear on eachother’s family tree, but they wouldn’t if Bella died shortly after giving birth to her and Mathilde was put in the orphanage.

Mathilde looks almost identical to Bella with the exception of her blue eyes. She also has a preference for blue where Bella preferred red.

Mathilde has no idea where her mother came from and the fact that she has a family on Earth who is just as oblivious to her existence as she is to theirs.

What happens to Cassandra and Alexander after they find out about Bella’s death?

Remember how I said scientist sims end up inventing something?

Cassandra’s invention is time travel. She makes a time machine and the first use is to send Don to the future after her, Dina, Nina, and Kaylynn find out that he was playing all of them. She then goes on to live her life. We don’t know how that looks yet, but she never finds out what happened to her mother and that she has a younger sister.

Alexander is greatly affected by his mother’s death. He has no memories of her being abducted by aliens. Normally toddlers remember things like that so it’s odd that he doesn’t when the rest of his family does. What he does remember is her disappearing, Mortimer being okay with it and getting together with Dina really fast after she vanished, and then finding out that his mother was dead.

Alexander is a child prodigee. He’s a smart kid. So, he would go with any other conclusion someone would go with that limited information: he believed Mortimer killed her.

Well, Cassandra still has her time machine after she uses it to get rid of Don. And as we all know, Alexander’s name shows up in the Sims 3 a few times despite the fact that he doesn’t exist yet. And, according to the Goth family tree, it’s not a family name of an ancestor of his, he is the only Alexander Goth.

Once again, we’re going to reference a console game. This time is the Sims 3 for the Nintendo DS. Alexander actually makes an appearance, and this time, he’s not alone: he’s married to a woman named Cecelia. The family bio says that their gloominess is BECAUSE of Mortimer. Alexander dyed his hair orange. Probably he was trying to bleach it and didn’t know what toner was. He doesn’t have that great of a relationship with Cecelia, as a matter of fact, she has a better relationship with Don Alto than she does her own husband.

Back in the realm of the PC games, Alexander wrote two books when he went back in time to the continuity of the Sims 3:

Baron Graff Van Gold, which comes with Supernatural,

And then there’s the one that appears in the base game.

Murder in Pleasantview.

To string it altogether, Alexander remembers her being gone, then learning she died. He suspects Mortimer was the one to do it but he never actually talks to his father about it. He doesn’t know anything about the abduction, if anything thinking it a ridiculous rumor. He grows up, gets married, and decides at some point in time to go back in time to try and prevent his mother’s death. So he and his wife go into the time machine and try to go back to when it happened, but instead get sent back wayyyy too far to when his parents are still children. What happens to the time machine? It breaks. He’s stuck in a period of time where Time travel wasn’t a thing and no one really knows how to help him and he sure as hell doesn’t know himself. Effectively, he’s stuck there.

So, he writes A Murder in Pleasantview to tell the story of what he thinks happens to his mother. He doesn’t know it’s really all for nothing, but at the same time, it is because of what ends up happening as a result. A result he probably didn’t even know would happen.

See, A Murder in Pleasantview is a best-seller. It blows up the world of 50 years before his time. Every bookshelf has a copy of this book, standard-load. Sims would have read this, and would be influenced accordingly. They would have made better decisions, not wanting this tragic thing to happen to them.

And yes, it does literally take the world by storm. Better decisions in the past truly make for a better future.

This is where the Sims 4 comes in. It is a different continuity, but it is different because they are aware of what Alexander believes to have happened to Bella. This would be why their personalities are so completely different, why the age gap between Cassandra and Alexander aren’t so extreme, why the Goths are so much more reclusive.

Alexander did something that inadvertently changed the future, eliminating himself and his circumstances entirely. He vanished suddenly, probably in a series of events identical to Back to the Future, where he is then allowed to live his life as a child with his mother in the picture, having no idea what he believed happened to her, nor knowing the truth. He erases his little sister altogether, but he can’t be blamed for that since he didn’t know she even existed.

What happened to his wife? Did she get erased like Alexander did?

No, actually she died. She tried repairing the time machine, failed, and was electrocuted to death as a result. She died young and is buried in the Goth mansion’s graveyard, confusing future generations because no one knows where she comes from because she has the surname Goth but they can’t find her on their family tree.

Lolita Goth was the wife of Alexander Goth.

Yes, it says she’s single, which means one of two things happened:

Either she tried repairing the time machine one last time after Alexander vanished and died,

Like Alexander’s marriage to Cecelia, they didn’t have the best relationship and they ended up getting a divorce, then, possibly with Alexander still around, did the same and died.

She clearly wanted to go back home to her time and wasn’t happy with Alexander for being stuck there.

And it makes sense that she would have been electrocuted with the time machine because there are no other objects in the Goth Mansion that would result in her electrocution.

Which would ALSO explain why the Goths of the Sims 3 can’t figure out who she is. You can’t list a descendent and their wife on your family tree if they don’t exist yet, can you?

Tragedy is just par for the course in the Goth Family, it matches their dark and dreary macabre air. But Bella’s story is just really extra sad. Imagine trying to repair your failed marriage, going to meet a new neighbor only for him to put the moves on you without invitation, then get abducted by aliens where their experiments go wrong, causing you to lose your memories, your personality, your youth, and then you find out that it went wrong because you’re pregnant, which you didn’t know about that either, and your kidnappers take a tissue sample from you, and then drop you on a strange planet far from home where you have no way to communicate to them that you’re there, but you don’t remember anyone but your children anyway, leaving you to have a baby you didn’t even know existed when you were abducted and live just long enough to name her?

The truth has been staring at us in the face since 2014, but we all missed it. Me included for the longest time. It’s been 16 years since Bella went missing, and we all had theories and ideas, but THIS is the truth, and it’s really. Messed up. Yeah, I found out what happened to Bella, but do I like it? No, not at all. Bella deserved better, and so do her children. Mathilde especially. She grew up in an orphanage never knowing she had a family who would have loved her so very much, only to become a mailcarrier on her home planet. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a mailcarrier, don’t get me wrong.

Dina Caliente is innocent, but seriously? Bye.

Nina Caliente is innocent, and really deserves better.

Don Lothario is innocent, but yet he sucks.

Mortimer Goth used to be my favorite out of the Goth family, yes, even over Bella. But after learning everything about him I have mixed feelings about the guy. I don’t blame him for not trusting Bella, and I don’t blame him for wanting to move on, but jeez, at least show a little genuine emotion, Morty, she was your childhood best friend, and, if nothing else, the mother of your children.

There was no plot to get rid of her and swipe the Goth fortune.

It was just poor timing on the alien’s end, and bad luck altogether.

So, yeah.

That’s what happened to Bella Goth.

4K notes · View notes

theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

Note

Can you write Poly!Lost Boys x s/o x Michael? The lost boys let s/o seduce Michael into the dark side?

Oh hO HO- Okay, here you go. Making this an everyone loves Michael fic, and not including Star/Laddie.

Good Job, Michael (Poly!Lost Boys x S/O x Michael)

Word Count: 1725

Warnings: cursing, descriptions of blood/violence/gore

David's hand itched for a cigarette while he and his boys sat on their bikes. His mind was a swirl of thoughts, all of them complicated and muddled by the blondes own emotions. He knew what he had to do. Max wanted Lucy, and he thought her sons were the best way to get her. They turn Michael and Sam, and then Lucy turns. Ta-da, happy ending. But things weren't always that easy.

They sat on their bikes, knowing that somewhere, probably right at this moment, you were getting hit on. And that you were entertaining it. The thought didn't settle easy among the group, and instead it held over them like a persistent fog. Some members were more outspoken than others with their disapproval of the tactic, with Marko having been bitching about it since they woke up. He'd hesitated when letting you go, his gloved hand resting on your hip for a just a moment too long. All it did was pause you from saying goodbye to the others and you gave him a look, but he settled to just huff and wait to truly start complaining for when you left.

Paul was usually a chatterbox, but one of the least confrontational of all the boys. He preferred "peace and love, man", even if he tore into surf-nazis each night. But the way he was tapping on his bike handle and looking around gave him away. He didn't like this either, and finally he uttered out a whine of,

"Where are they?" They weren't used to letting you stray far. They rarely left eachothers sides, and their instincts were practically begging them to find you. Surprisingly, it was Dwayne that answered.

"Be patient." He said, his voice deep and bristly. He didn't like this as much as the others, that was clear by the permanent scowl on his face. His hands were gripping his handlebars, his knuckles tightening and threatening to snap the metal underneath his fingers. So much for patience.

While they all agreed that none of them liked this, David couldn't deny that another wave of emotion was clouding his mind. One that he'd carefully avoided, but resurfaced the second they saw you emerge from the crowd. Blue eyed, curly haired brunette in tow. The same feeling, the edging, burning interest of a new crush, edged his mind. One that he'd decided to keep to himself, even if the way he chose to stare at the brunette betrayed him to the others. The second the boys caught the way he was looking at the brunette, there was a sigh, small tittering, and a roll of hazel-green eyes. It didn't help that you were giving Michael the same exact goo-goo eyes.

---

You hadn't expected to actually like the brunette. You knew what David wanted, what Max planned. This was supposed to just be a simple trick, something to keep Max happy and off your back. A simple necessity, like drinking blood each night. Sure, having another boy around wasn't completely unwelcome, but, again, you hadn't expected to like him.

You found him after he donned a new, obviously new, leather jacket. He had seen the boardwalk, and the teens that owned it, and was trying desperately to fit in. It made you smile, a small feeling of pity flitting through you. The poor boy was even considering getting his ear pierced. You stepped forward, offering a quick,

"It's a rip-off." To catch his attention. He turned, and his eyes found you. He was quick to follow, asking,

"What?" And you smiled. A real smile. He was clueless. It was almost cute.

"It's a rip-off. Get a sewing needle and some ice, it'll do the job." You said, and he smiled for a moment, doing his best to follow you through the crowd.

"What's your name?" He asked, and you offered it freely. He repeated it, and was quick to chirp back. "I'm Michael." He said, and you nodded. You knew. You repeated his name back, catching his eye as you did so.

You looked him over now that you were closer, and, for the shadow of a moment, you saw exactly what he could become. The faint image of a Lost Boy was hidden behind his face, and you didn't doubt that in a few weeks, if not a few nights, he would grow into that image nicely. You couldn't help but say,

"You new to Santa Carla?" You asked, and he rubbed the back of his neck before he replied,

"That obvious, huh?" He asked, and you chuckled. He was oddly charming. He was like a puppy, filled with naivety and the need to be accepted. Liked.

"Just a little bit." You said, making a pinching gesture with your fingers. "But I like the jacket." You said, and you saw how that brought a smile to his face. He touched it, like he'd almost forgot that he was wearing it. You had to stifle a laugh when he said,

"This old thing?" And you reached out. He watched your hand come towards his, and he seemed excited for a moment. Excited from the idea that you were going to take his hand. You did, but only to pull a price tag from his wrist. You held it up, and, in a moment, he flushed. You couldn't stop your laugh then, and you had to tease him.

"Old thing, huh?" You said, but you were quick to wave your own comment away. "It's nice, though. It suits you." You said, and you watched him rub his neck again. You couldn't tell if his embarrassment was from having been caught in his lie or from being complimented by you. Still, he had enough confidence to ask,

"Wanna get something to eat?" As his bike came nearer. You nodded, and you could practically feel the stare from your boys on your back.

---

That was exactly what you asked him as you lead him into the dunes, the rest of your boys hooting and hollering behind you. Dwayne had thrown his arm around Marko, with Paul raising his hands teasingly at David. When you stopped near a tree, just above a partying group of teens, the laughter died. The tension had become suddenly thick, and Michael uncomfortably asked,

"I thought you said we were getting food?" He asked, and the boys snickered as they climbed into the tree. They'd been hazing him for days, even as their own feelings grew. But none of them were willing to do anything that would halt his progress, even if the tension was growing thicker between him and David. He would turn, and then they could pursue him.

You and Michael hung back for a moment, and you gave his arm a gentle squeeze. You looked at him. He had grown exactly into the image you had pictured. His cheeks were dusted with stubble, his sunglasses hanging from his white shirt. An earring hanging from his left ear. He was staring at you the same way he always did. So full of trust, naivety, and a willingness to please. Again, you found that you nearly pitied him. It's why you couldn't let him go into this completely blind, even if that had been David's plan.

"You've been having a weird pain lately, right?" You asked him, and his brows furrowed with confusion. You knew the thirst had hit him already, even if he hadn't acted on it. "And your hand." You reached for it. He'd told you about how Nanook had bitten him, but he'd skipped the detail about the mirror. His hand was now healed, as if he hadn't been bitten at all. While he wasn't the brightest, he was smart enough to realize that wasn't normal. You and the boys had succeeded in distracting him the night before, but now he had to know. "These are bad people, Michael. You don't need to feel guilty." You whispered, but he looked more confused than anything. He held your hand, giving it a squeeze. Before he could ask, you interruped, "Here, I'll show you." You said, guiding him towards the tree and then leaving him there while the boys watched you. While you'd given him just the slightest of hints, now it was time to set the plan into motion. Michael nearly followed you, only to be caught by Paul and Marko after a quick look from David. David trusted you, as did the others, as you stepped down towards the firelight.

Michael watched how the boys jeered at you, how one quickly took to your side. He was drunk, and it looked as if he planned on messing with you. The others quickly noticed you, and they circled you like a pack of wolves. The boys watched as Michael's- well, they couldn't tell if it was jealousy or protectiveness- flared, his eyes turning yellow. David smirked, and he leaned towards the brunette. Setting a hand on his shoulder, he said,

"You gonna let them do that, Michael?" And he nodded at the two blondes. They let him go, and just then one of the boys gave you a nudge. One that seemingly nearly knocked you to the ground. It was a bit of pretending on your part, but that was all it took.

His face had shifted completely, becoming almost lionesque as his fangs descended. Without the boys to grab him, he flew. You watched as they ripped and tore into the man's shoulder, knocking him flat onto his face. You watched as your boys laughed, joining him and pouncing as the surf-nazis began to try to run away. You snatched one for yourself, the blood hitting the back of your throat in a hot gush. The six of you were having a frenzy, and you tossed the limp body into the fire as the adrenaline filled your veins. You looked over at the curly haired brunette, his eyes still shining yellow instead of blue. He was panting, with blood drenched down his chin, neck, and the front of his shirt. He looked beautiful, not just to you but to the boys you had been with for- well, you couldn't remember exactly how long. He was truly one of you now, and you didn't hesitate to pull him in for a kiss. He moaned and licked at your mouth, whether to deepen it or catch the blood decorating it you couldn't tell.

When you pulled away, you caressed his stubbly cheek. His eyes had faded back to blue, but the completion of the transformation numbed any expected remorse. He simply ducked down again, capturing your lips once more, before the both of you giggled and you said,

"Good job, Michael."

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys paul #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys marko #paul the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #michael the lost boys #the lost boys michael #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines

321 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines-stories · 3 years

Text

Simple Man

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3351

Summary: It was never what he thought he would have. But now Dean doesn’t want to let go.

Notes: I was going to wait and make this a Thanksgiving special, but I thought today would be more fitting. I can’t believe Supernatural ends tonight! This show has been a part of my life for a while now and it will forever stay in my heart. I had a really really good time writing this one. It might be one of my favorites I’ve written for Dean, if not my top pick. I hope you guys enjoy it and look forward to seeing more. Carry on.��

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

(P.S. thank you to my beta reader @suckmysupernatural. Love you!)

Oh, take your time, don’t live to fast

Troubles will come and they will pass

He had slept through an alarm he didn’t remember setting. It wasn’t until he heard the creaking of the door that he stirred, reaching under his pillow for his knife. But it wasn’t there. Dean panicked as footsteps crept towards him. They were nothing more than a small pitter-patter on the wood floor, but he still prepared himself for the attack. The small creature leapt on top of him and he rolled over so he was pinning it beneath him. It giggled. It giggled?

“Daddy, Mom said she needs you in the kitchen.”

Dean leaned over to the night stand and turned on the lamp. A little green eyed girl squirmed out from underneath him and skipped out of the room.

“The hell…” Dean muttered. He opened the dresser and sure enough, his clothes sat in the drawers. He put on a T-shirt and slowly walked out of the room. The smell of bacon and coffee coaxed him to the kitchen. He couldn’t believe what he saw.

You were standing over the stove, trying to save the bacon from burning. Dean was just frozen in the doorway. Finally spotting him, you made your way over to him, which was difficult with the little boy clinging to your leg.

“Thank God you’re up. I need you to finish making breakfast.” You lifted the boy into your arms. “Eric’s got a fever and Ellie is going to wake up any second needing to be fed.” You gently laid a hand on Eric’s forehead. “I’ll call the doctor as soon as I get him to lay down. But you know how impossible that is.”

“But I’m not tired.” Eric whined.

“I know, sweetie, but you don’t want to get sicker, do you?” He pouted his lip and shook his head. “Alright, so I need you to go back to bed.” You looked back at Dean. “Can you just finish the bacon? I’ll be back to make their toast.”

Before Dean could speak, you rushed up the stairs. As if on queue, a baby started to cry from somewhere upstairs. Dean just stood in shock. What the hell was going on?

As if by second nature, he walked around the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel to let the bacon drain off the grease. It felt almost natural. He somehow knew where everything was, even though he had never been here. Or had he? His brain was fuzzy with thoughts he couldn't remember. He saw images flash in his mind. Sam graduating from Stanford. His parents celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. You… in a wedding dress.

“Johanna Charlotte Winchester you better be ready for school or your dad’s going to come and get you!” You yelled, coming back into the kitchen, this time a wailing baby in your arms. It wasn’t until now that Dean noticed you were wearing a sheriff’s uniform. You snatched up a piece of bacon and popped it in your mouth. “Thank you.”

You bounced the baby in your arms, trying to calm her down, but she wasn’t having it. The green eyed little girl from early came bounding into the room with her backpack over one shoulder. Ellie continued to bawl.

“Can you hold her? She always stops crying when you hold her.” You handed the squirming child to him and he tried not to panic. You noticed your husband’s awkwardness. “Rough morning?” You snickered. “Here, I’ll make you some coffee.”

As the child in his arms slowly stopped her crying, more memories flooded Dean’s head. You telling him you were pregnant for the first time. Going to the emergency room for the birth of his son. Watching Johanna hold her new baby sister. They all felt like dreams, but then how was this all real?

“I’m feeling a little... off this morning.” He admitted, watching you carefully as if he were waiting for horns to sprout from your forehead. Your face fell.

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re sick too.” You put your hand on his forehead. “You’re picking everyone up from the airport today.”

“Everyone?” Dean’s brows furrowed curiously.

“I would go get them, but I’m at the station until five.” You sighed, moving your hand down to caress his cheek. “Besides, you’ve been dying to see your brother since the Fourth of July.”

“Uncle Sam!” Jo exclaimed excitedly.

“Sammy’s coming?” Dean asked. Finally, something familiar. Your face contorted with confusion.

“Of course he’s coming. Jessica and the kids are too. They always help prepare for tomorrow and since your parents will still be out on their cruise, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“Tomorrow...” He spotted the calendar on the wall, but you answered first.

“Thanksgiving.” You stated. Your confusion changed to concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to stay home?” Jo raised her hand.

“Can I stay home too?”

“Sweetheart, it’s just one more half-day of school before break and then you’ll get to play with your cousins for the rest of the week.” Seeing you start to get stressed, Dean put a hand on your shoulder.

“You go to work. I’m fine.” He assured you. “I’ll hold down the fort and I’ll pick up Sam at- what time again?”

“3:00.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled. “I know you worked extra last week so you could have the garage closed for Thanksgiving, but I think the fumes might have gone to your head.” You grabbed the keys off the counter. “Oh, and I’ll be taking Baby to work since you’ll need the van to fit everyone.” His look of displeasure made you laugh. “I know, I know, but you’ll have to suck it up for today unless you think the four-year-old can babysit.”

You kiss Ellie on the forehead before giving Dean a quick, but passionate kiss on the lips. You held out your hand for your daughter to take.

“Alright, partner, let’s go.”

The two of you leave and Dean looks down at the baby in his arms. Was this really happening?

Boy don’t you worry, you’ll find yourself

Follow your heart and nothing else

If he was trapped by a djinn, he would have remembered fighting it. This was something else. The more time he spent in the house, the more this world felt real and his hunting life felt like dreams. Maybe… maybe this was real.

He remembered everything now. He had met you in a bar on New Years Eve. You hit it off talking about cars and classic rock. He proposed about two years later outside that same bar during the first snow of the season. You always said the first snow was the best one. You got married and a couple months later found out you were pregnant with Jo. Johanna Charlotte Winchester was born on April 3, 2007. She was seven. Three years later, Eric Samuel was born on November 29th. He was four. Lastly, Ellen Sandra was born six months ago tomorrow on May 27, 2014.

Sammy had a family of his own. He married Jessica right out of law school and the two had two boys; Josh, 8, and Michael, 6. Their families stayed close, even though Sam was in California and Dean in Kansas. They were happy.

If this wasn’t real, how could he remember all that?

3:00 rolled around and Eric’s fever had gone down. He called you to make sure it would be okay to take him along to the airport. You told him that as long as he was feeling okay, it should be fine. The doctor said it sounded like the heat in his room was too high. Dean buckled Eric into his carseat and Ellie in her carrier. While Johanna almost looked like a mini-girl version of him, Eric looked like you. His eyes were yours, along with his hair color and his nose. Ellie looked like a fair mix of both.

Jessica was the first one to greet him since Sam was busy carrying the boys’ bags. He hugged her tight and couldn’t stop beaming.

“It’s so good to see you guys.” He smiled and she gave him a sunny grin in return.

“I know Sam’s been eager to see you and the family for a long time. Of course, I’m only here for the food.” She teased and he pulled her into another hug.

“I can’t believe this.” Dean sighed happily. Sam and Jessica. Him and you. One big happy family.

“Do I get a hug, or are just going to hog my wife?” Sam snarked, setting down the bags as Dean nearly tackled him. Sam laughed, struggling to breathe in his brother’s crushing hug. “I missed you too, Dean.”

“Uncle Sam!” Eric cheered, clinging to Sam’s leg.

“Hey buddy.” Sam smiled, lifting his nephew into his arms. Jessica peaked into the baby carrier Dean had set on the bench.

“Look at how big she’s gotten.” She awed. Ellie was asleep, so she spoke quietly. Jess frowned, finally noticing the two brown haired boys fighting over one of their comics. “Josh, stop pushing your brother.” She scolded.

“He took my comic!” The older of the two retorted. Jessica just gave him a stern look and he surrendered.

“Michael, give it back when you’re done reading.” Sam ruffled his youngest son’s hair. Dean knelt down.

“So are you two tough guys too cool to give your uncle a hug, or what?” He pulled his nephews into a warm embrace. “Are you both taller? You’re taller than the last time I saw you.” Dean pat Josh on the back. “You’re gonna be taller than your dad before you know it.”

“You know, you’d see them more if you flew out to California.” Jessica noted. Dean’s eyes widened. She laughed. “I know, I know, you have a thing about flying.”

“I want to go to California!” Eric exclaimed.

“One of these days, we can go on a roadtrip in Baby to Uncle Sam and Aunt Jessica’s, how does that sound?” Dean promised. Eric nodded, excitedly wriggling in Sam’s arms.

Everyone loaded up into the van, Sam sliding into the passenger seat. Dean had to laugh. This was just so crazy. Here they were, driving in a van packed full of children. Their children. He thought of all of the times Sam sat beside him in the impala, the two weary from a hunt. It felt like a different lifetime. Like a different world. It felt less real.

You’ll find a woman and you’ll find love

And don’t forget son, there is someone up above

Four children ran around the backyard, jumping in leaf piles and chasing each other with sticks. Jo seemed to rule the yard, keeping her older cousin at bay with her stubborn persistence. Dean smiled proudly.

“She’s quite the pistol.” Jessica noted with a laugh, jutting her head towards Johanna. She was sitting beside you, bouncing her baby niece in her arms.

“I wonder where she gets that from.” You gave your husband a smirk. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I love you so much.” He whispered. The tone in his voice made you glance up at him. He was watching you with intensity in his eyes. So much love and yet… there was pain there.

“I love you too.” You laced your fingers with his, your concern evident in your voice. “Dean, are you okay? You’ve been acting a little weird all day.” You spoke quietly so you wouldn’t worry your brother-in-law. Your husband gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m fine, really. I’m just…” Dean felt an overwhelming wave of emotion and choked back tears. “Really happy.” He lifted your chin up, bringing your lips to his. Everything was perfect, right down to the way your lips fit perfectly against his. He knew, without a doubt, that this was real.

Soon it was time to put the kids to bed. Sam’s boys slept on the pull-out couch in the basement. Eric was exhausted from a day of excitement, as well as his baby sister. Dean was charged with the task of putting a rambunctious Johanna to bed.

“I want to stay up and drink beer like a big kid.” She pouted, making the adults in the room chuckle. Dean crouched down and picked her up.

“Alright, here’s the deal. I promise that when you’re a big kid like me and your mom, then you can stay up and have a drink with us. But until then, you’re gonna be my little deputy right?” He tapped the golden plastic badge that she never took off. Jo grinned from ear to ear and nodded. Humming a Bob Segar tune, he took her upstairs to her room and tucked her into bed.

When he came back down stairs, his brother and the two women were smirking at him.

“What?” You and Jessica exchanged a look and burst out laughing. “Come on, what?”

“That girl has you wrapped around her finger, Dean.” Jessica snickered. You took a sip of your beer.

“Oh, he’s like that with Ellie, too. He dotes on them like you wouldn’t believe. One little pout from Johanna and he melts.” You couldn’t help but beam at your husband. You loved the way he was with the kids.

“I got her in bed, didn’t I?” Dean huffed, taking his seat beside you and resting a hand on your knee. Sam shook his head.

“It’s all in the looks, brother. You may think you’ve one this round, but I saw the look in Jo’s eyes.” Sam gave his brother a sure nod. “She knows where she stands.”

“At least I’ve got Eric,” You sighed teasingly. “He’s a mama's boy, through and through.”

You curled up beside Dean, comfortable in his warmth. He kissed the top of your head.

The hours passed with plenty of laughter and love. Soon, it was getting close to 11:00 and you wanted to get plenty of rest for the busy day tomorrow. Everyone would be helping prepare the massive Thanksgiving meal that the Winchesters made every year. Sam and Jessica said goodnight and headed to the guest room while you and Dean made your way upstairs.

You reached your rooms and Dean’s hands found your waist, his lips trailing up your shoulder to your neck. You leaned back into his embrace, bringing your hand up to tangle your fingers in his golden-brown hair. His hands started to wander and you sighed mournfully.

“Baby, we both have to be up in the morning.” You groaned, breaking away from him. When you turned around, he was pouting, his green eyes big and sad. So that’s where Johanna got it. He was just so impossible to resist, but if you didn’t go to bed now, you’d be exhausted before dinner even started. You draped your arms around his neck. “I’ll tell you what; how about we get a good night’s sleep tonight…” you pulled him close and whispered into his ear, “and I’ll give you something to be really thankful for tomorrow.”

Dean’s eyes widened and his smirk spread into a smile.

“Mrs. Winchester, we have a deal.” He loved the way that sounded coming from his lips. Mrs. Winchester.

You gave him a long and passionate goodnight kiss before changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed.

It must have been around 12:30 when the baby started crying. The baby monitor was on your nightstand, so you were awakened by the sound first. Dean moved to get up, but you stopped him.

“I’ll get her.” You sleepily shuffled out of the bedroom. Reaching the hall, you muttered something that your half-asleep husband only half comprehended. Something about the electricity acting up again.

The crying continued and you didn’t return. Dean yawned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes and got out of bed. He slowly made his way down the hallway to the nursery. The door was ajar and the lamp had been turned on. You must have gone downstairs to get her a bottle.

Dean picked up his crying daughter, rocking her soothingly in his arms. She wailed and wailed until she heard his voice.

“Alright, sweetheart. It’s alright. Daddy’s got you.” He hushed. After a moment of rocking and soft whispers, Ellie started to settle down. As soon as her cries reduced to the occasional sniff, Dean set her back in her cradle. “That’s it. You’re going to be just fine. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.”

Smiling down at his beautiful baby girl, Dean felt something on the back of his neck. When he touched it, his hand came away red. He froze, and as if his body went into auto pilot, he turned around. At first he couldn’t scream. He just stared.

Your mouth gaped at him, your eyes filled with terror and pain as the blood spread out from your stomach. Ellie started to cry again.

“No!” Dean screamed. That’s when the fire started.

And that’s when he woke up.

And be a simple kind of man

Oh, be something you love and understand

Dean sat straight up, sweat soaking through his t-shirt, his scream still on his lips. The cool air of the bunker made him shiver. He couldn’t breathe. He heaved and coughed as if the smoke really filled his lungs. A sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump out of the bed and flatten himself against the wall, holding out his fists to fight.

“Dean?” You rose slowly, walking towards him cautiously. “It’s okay. It was just a dream. You’re okay.”

He just stared at you, taking in every feature. You watched his eyes fill with tears and his chin tremble as he tried to speak. Nothing came out, just a strangled sounding cry. Dean fell to his knees and you rushed to hold him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just a nightmare.

Dean wrapped his arms around your middle and leaned his head against your stomach as you soothingly ran your fingers through his hair. He didn’t make any sound as he cried, but the tears fell endlessly down his face. He was shaking in your arms.

“Dean, honey, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” You whispered. This wasn’t the first time that he’d woken suddenly from a dream, but it had never been like this.

You told him that you were pregnant today. He seemed happy. Shocked, but happy. But now? Whatever was going through his head was breaking him. You sunk down in front of him so you could hold him fully, letting him cry into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He finally choked out. “I’m sorry that this is all I can give you. I’m sorry that we don’t have a big house full of kids. That Sam has lost any chance at happiness. That we can never have a normal life.” You pushed back.

“Baby, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry that this baby is going to grow up haunted and broken… just like me.” His voice cracked. You put a hand on his cheek.

“Dean…” You pressed your forehead against his, feeling your own tears start to fall. “This baby is going to be loved and wanted and cherished, just like you.” You kissed him gently, reminding him of your adoration of this hero of a man.

Dean held you closer, letting your words sink into his heart. He wanted to believe it. He wanted more than anything to believe it. Even in his beautiful dream, you ended up burned and bloody. Even in his dream, he was broken.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He would try like hell to give you a life as close to perfect as he could manage. Maybe that meant hunting together until you went down guns blazing. Maybe that meant settling down, someday, somewhere. He would try.

Baby be a simple kind of man

Oh, won’t you do this for me, son, if you can

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

#dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #jessica moore #jensen ackles #supernatural #happy thanksgiving #supernatural imagines #simple man #angst up the waz

339 notes · View notes

kaleidoscopeminds · 3 years

Text

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

main works/series:

Ballet fic ‘verse (41.5k, Mature)

Luke's life is perfectly on track. He is about to get everything he's ever wanted, to become a Principal dancer for the Royal Ballet. He's focused, determined and nothing will get in his way. Then he meets Calum, a smooth-tongued barman with dangerous eyes, and suddenly not everything's so simple.

dream makes the sounds (that carry me so far away) (36.5k, Mature)

Luke's just got to California, on a trip to get away from his life for a while. Calum might be there for the same reason. When a chance meeting pushes them together, Luke might get more out of the four-week road trip than he ever imagined.

i’m not made by design, how can you be satisfied? (21k, Mature)

It gets to about three p.m. and Calum’s seen so many models at this point he thinks his vision is going a bit blurry; and that’s when the next boy “Luke Hemmings” gets let in. He’s stopped pretending to review the portfolios ahead of time on the iPad in front of him, just looking at the models as they come in and making a note whether it’s worth looking at it afterwards.

He kind of wishes he had looked at Luke's before he walked through the door though because he almost swallows his tongue.

A fashion AU

the flatmate arrangement (20k, Mature)

Hi Calum/Poor Struggling Paralegal, So I’ll be upfront with you. It’s a one-bed flat. I also live here. HOWEVER before you delete this and think I’m a freak, I work nights so I wouldn’t be here anytime you would be. You can have the flat exclusively from 6 pm to 8 am, Saturday night and all day Sunday. Understand this sounds like a bit of a crazy arrangement but I could do with the cash, let me know what you think?

Luke Hemmings (Poor Struggling Children’s Nurse)

A 'The Flatshare' AU

talk to me, baby (18k, Explicit)

“Is that why you’ve been looking at me all night?” Luke asks, reaching out and brushing a finger over one of the rips in Calum’s jersey. “Trying to get me alone to sell your services?”

Calum looks delighted that Luke has called him out and it makes Luke smile again.

“Not at all,” Calum says, taking a swig from his drink. “But I was trying to get you alone to offer some other services for free. Interested?”

Luke laughs. “Is that an innuendo?”

“Absolutely, but I can be less subtle.” Calum sips his beer, eyeing Luke. “Wanna fuck?”

meet me in the back under exit lights (17k, Mature)

“Mate, you do know what our job is right?” he asks amusedly. “You’re a writer at an indie music magazine. Just in case you hadn’t realised.” Calum rolls his eyes at Ashton.

“I know,” he says grumpily. “But if Alex makes me interview another one of these boring-as-fuck sad boy singer-songwriters I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

The journalist Calum/musician Luke AU no one asked for

Bakery Cake ‘verse (15k, Teen and Up)

“Bye, Luke,” Calum says. “Maybe see you tomorrow, and... Hope you have a great day too.” His face breaks out into a wider smile that reminds Luke of the feeling of getting just the right consistency for macaron batter, or a perfectly smooth finish on a cake, or the way good puff pastry flakes into the perfect fragments when you cut through a mille-feuille. Or something.

A bakery AU

and what if you’d never smiled at me (15k, Teen and Up)

Calum's really not happy about the new bakery that's just opened up down the road from his own bakery; it's gaudy and pastel and covered in flowers and is an offence to the name of baking. At least he's got a new regular to make him feel better about it all. One with a smile that can turn a day around just like that, even on a Tuesday.

in the places that we met (9k, Mature)

“I think I might be being haunted by a ghost,” is how he greets Michael at the pub that Friday.

“A ghost?” Michael responds suspiciously.

“Yeah and he’s personally haunting me and only me,” Luke says, pulling himself into a booth.

“Sounds frightening,” Michael says mildly.

“He’s also really fit,” Luke says, taking a sip of the pint Michael’s provided him with. “I saw him at the gym today.”

“Sounds sexy and frightening,” Michael says.

you wanna be closer (5k, Teen and Up)

Five times Luke and Calum touch platonically, and once when Calum realises maybe it was never platonic at all.

we're just friends (4k)

“I want to kiss you,” Calum says, voice not above a murmur. Luke’s heart stutters and a blush fills his face as it works overtime pushing his hot blood around his body.

“We shouldn’t,” Luke starts as his hand comes up to grip Calum’s wrist. “We’re friends, we’re just friends.”

drabbles and prompts:

i think i'm getting stuck, i think i'm getting hooked on you (2k, Teen and Up)

it's just a spark, but it's enough (2k, Teen and Up)

main works/series

in a world of black and white (12k, Teen and Up)

“Hey,” Luke says, as close to Ashton’s ear as he can get. Ashton’s head snaps up immediately and his hazel eyes behind his tortoiseshell glasses flick towards him, wide in surprise. Ashton’s eyes are a conundrum to Luke, sometimes gleaming warm amber with flecks of deeper mahogany, sometimes sparkling emerald and viridescent, and sometimes somewhere between the two, glinting and swirling with a golden green. Luke could spend weeks trying to solve the enigma of Ashton’s eyes, and thinks that he might be happy to.

if you dance with me darling, if you take me home... will we talk in the morning? (4k, Teen and Up)

Luke is drunk, but nicely so, he thinks, everything slightly softer around the edges, lights a little brighter and laughs a little louder. Everyone and everything in the world would be slightly better if they were this level of tipsy all the time, he muses to himself as he waits for his drinks, leaning his chin in his hand on the bar where he’s wedged himself between two other people that were definitely waiting before him, but don’t have Luke’s height or smile.

put on your dancing shoes, there’s one thing on your mind (2k, Teen and Up)

Luke squeaks and grabs Ashton’s wrist, bouncing on his toes as excitement flows through him, his heart rate picking up as he feels the crowd shift and pulse with anticipation, voices of enthusiasm and shouts beginning to ripple across the sea of people. The lights begin to flash and Luke can feel the energy thrum through the air.

sad luke ‘verse (2k)

Luke flexes his fingers around his glass and tips his head back to look at the ceiling, letting the lights flash around him, burning his eyes as he forces himself to keep them open, but he still feels like they’re not as bright as he wants them to be, not bright enough to sting as much as he yearns for them to.

Will someone tell me who I was before? (500, Teen and Up)

When I close my eyes and try to sleep I fall apart, I find it hard to breathe (500, Teen and Up)

Looking on, as all of life's colours seem to fade (1k, Teen and Up)

drabbles and prompts:

you light up my whole heart, it feels like the sun (1k, Teen and Up)

i don't wanna be wasting my time alone (2k, General Audiences)

pressed against the wall just watching your every move (1.5k, General Audiences

misc works and drabbles

fingertips on me, i can feel them still - malum (2k, Teen and Up))

The lady on the phone had offered him a new guy, and even though he was wary, he knew he couldn’t put off getting his hair cut any longer. That didn’t account for the new guy being the fucking prettiest man he’s ever set eyes upon, mask and all, and if Calum didn’t want to take his hat off before, he definitely doesn’t now.

some invisible string tying you to me - ot4 (1.5k)

That’s the thing about the four of them, they say they can’t really pinpoint exactly how it happened. How it became the four of them in every single iteration of the words, wrapped and tied together securely, looping in and out and around them all.

misc tumblr prompt ficlets

#masterlist #5sosfanfic #5sosfanfiction #i did one finally!#babes i've written so many words and for what #fic #fic talk #meg fic

26 notes · View notes

nachtare · 3 years

Text

resun fan playlists

if you look at these carefully, you can pinpoint many things. like when i first watched Inside and when i got back into Blue Oyster Cult. i made them on youtube because i hate spotify and don’t know how to share playlists on Apple Music.

Walker - evil-type beats. From Eden (Hozier), Girl With One Eye (FaTM), Choke (IDKHBTFM), Youth (Daughter), Bad Guy (Billie Eilish), Oh No! (Marina and the Diamonds), Gallery Piece (of Montreal), While My Guitar Gently Weeps (Beatles), House of Memories (PaTD), Call Them Brothers (Regina Spektor), I’m Gonna Win (Rob Cantor), Bad Dudes (Michael Guy Bowman), Purgatory (MGB), C’est Pas Ta Faute (M), Once In a Lifetime (Talking Heads), No Children (The Mountain Goats), Burning Pile (Mother Mother), Everybody Wants To Rule The World (Tears for Fears), Everything Stays (Adventure Time), That Funny Feeling (Bo Burnham), Shit (BB), Black Blade (Blue Oyster Cult), Shrike (Hozier), Verbatim (Mother Mother).

uh, i listen to this playlist probably more than is healthy. i will stand by my picks. Black Blade doesn��t entirely fit, but I wanted to slap some BOC on there, and, like, i think walker wanted to be a lover, not a red-eyed screaming ghoul. Also the trifecta of “hand in unloveable hand” (No Children), “holding hands while the walls come tumbling down” (Everybody Wants To Rule The World), and “the quiet comprehending of the ending of it all” (That Funny Feeling) makes me feel things. Gallery Piece and Burning Pile are probably the ones that feel The Most Walker to me.

Slaoui - less evil-type beats. Running Up That Hill (Kate Bush), Wildfire! (Vocaloid), Santa Monica Dream (Angus & Julia Stone), Toxic (Britney Spears), Elastic Heart (S*a), Body (Mother Mother), Somewhere Only We Know (Keane), Don’t Be So Serious (Low Roar), I Dont Trust U Anymore (Left At London), Everybody Knows (Leonard Cohen), Last Song (Jason Webley), Nothing Left to Say / Rocks (Imagine Dragons), The Sun Always Shines On TV (A-ha), Faking It (MGB), Torture (Les Friction), No Light No Light (FaTM), Poison (Alice Cooper), Like Real People Do (Hozier), Brave As A Noun (AJJ), Always Forever (Cults), This Year (TMG), The Scientist (Coldplay), Old College Try (TMG), White Flag (Dido), Amsterdam (Imagine Dragons), Goin’ Through The Motions (Blue Oyster Cult), Wind (Akeboshi).

a few of these might work better for Kieren, but like, whatever. same guy. i really like the exquisite sense of loss in Santa Monica Dream, and how Always Forever is like. a slightly creepy love song. works well with Slaoui’s power-fueled weird fixation on Walker. i most especially stand by Wind and The Scientist.

the end. please read resun when it comes out. thank you.

#resun #reverse sunrise #polyglotplatypus #resun pgp

41 notes · View notes

kashimos-hajime · 4 years

Text

if the world was ending | b.b.

summary: bucky knows he’s still in love with you a year after the two of you mutually agreed to break up. when one phone call spirals into one plan being made and then another, and then suddenly he’s staying at your place, he wonders if there may be a chance to try again.

WARNINGS: small angst, a whole lotta fluff, literally fluff, swearing, mentions of s e x but they don’t do the do pairing: modern!bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 6.7k

a/n: inspired by if the world was ending by jp saxe (ft. julia michaels). a kinda real take on how sometimes the timing just isn’t right for a relationship and how sometimes it is.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Your voice echoes in his car and he nearly shivers at how gentle, sleepy, you sound. He wondered where you’d be: at a bar or at home, working overtime or eating out after a long night, on a date. The thought had made him tired, sad, but it didn’t tear a hole through him as it once would.

“Was there something you needed? Are you okay?” you ask, something shifting on your end and he stops at a red light, turning on his left turn light. He doesn’t know where he’s driving to or how long he’s going to just press on until he goes home. The clicking of the light fills his head. “I know the earthquake was a bit weird.”

“Earthquake?” He remembers it at the mere word. Him not even feeling it, not even realizing he was driving through one until Sam had called him from the office asking if he was okay. “There was an earthquake, yeah. I’m fine. Didn’t even know it happened until after it happened.”

“Yeah. Stuck in traffic?”

He laughs, softly, because you still know him so well. “Yeah. Got trapped in the office.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

You’re never fucking here! It’s like I’m dating a ghost and I don’t know if it’s because I’m boring you or if you just don’t love me anymore. Your voice, angry, twisted with grief and frustration, rattles in his skull as he clears his throat. The light switches green and he turns, driving until he spots an off ramp he knows leads to the highway

“Yeah.” It comes out tight and choked.

Of course I do. I love you, I just—

Just what?

“Yeah,” you say for lack of anything else. There is nothing but silence, but the sound of your gentle breathing and the sound of commercials running.

“Did you fall asleep watching TV again?” he teases, his throat easing up a bit as you chuckle with a slight sigh.

“Yeah.” You sound like you’re smiling. Bucky hopes you are. “Just staying up late.” Because I’m still used to waiting up for you, the hopeful voice in his head adds quietly. “What’s up? We haven’t talked in a few months.”

Because I just figured out how not to text you when every little thing happens.

“I just thought of you,” he says, “after the earthquake happened. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Your end of the line falls silent and he hides his sigh. He knew it was a mistake. “I thought of you, too.” Your voice is hushed, tender, still full of a love both of you agreed wasn’t meant to be. The thought has always made Bucky torn with sorrow, shackled with guilt and regret. He doesn’t know if they are simply not strong enough to fight for their love or if their love just wasn’t meant to be so strong.

He doesn’t know. What he does know is that he is still in love with you—he always will be.

“Well, I’m glad you’re safe,” he says. “I still care about you a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.” You reply so instantaneously that he is convinced and he finds himself driving down familiar roads. His feet ache and he’s exhausted, but he keeps going. He doesn’t want to go home. “I care about you, too.”

You were my best friend.

“How’ve you been?” he asks.

“I’m okay. Single, if that’s what you really want to know,” you confess openly and his eyebrows rise. You don’t sound disappointed or angry about it, but he wonders if you still love him like he adores you. “But, yeah. Work is okay.”

“That’s good.”

“How’s Alpine?”

Bucky chuckles at the thought of the white cat back home. He’d been the one thing they truly fought over when they broke up, and he knows his cat misses you more than he does sometimes, if the persistent clawing in the middle of the night is anything to go by. He’s taken to shutting the windows to prevent his stupid cat from trying to make his way back to you, for his own sanity and Alpine’s safety.

“He misses you.”

“Well, you know he’s welcome to visit any time,” you point out. You let out a heavy breath and Bucky thinks maybe you’ve laid down or sat up, but he wonders what the apartment they used to share together looks like now. You always rearrange it however you see fit. It’s one of the most frustrating things about you but Bucky could never bare to tell you to stop.

It kept their life together ever flowing, different despite living in the same place.

He pulls over at a gas station when he notices the light flicker on.

“You know if the world was actually ending, I’d drop everything for you,” he says to ease the silence but it doesn’t. Instead, it only prolongs it and he sighs, eyes closing. “I don’t say it to confuse you or cause you pain. I just… wanted you to know. I—”

“I love you, too,” you murmur, voice dulcet and soft as feathers he can imagine you kissing the words into his skin. He tilts his head back until it rests against the headrest and he swallows. He doesn’t expect it to hurt but it does. Like a dull knife jabbing into his side. Not quite enough to bleed but enough to bruise. “I do. I don’t think I’ll ever not love you.”

“Yeah.”

“I just wished it’d work out.”

“Me too.”

Knock. Knock. Bucky opens his eyes to see a station attendant mouth ‘gas’ and he nods, rolling down the window.

“Fill up, thanks,” Bucky says, and the guy nods. He unhooks his phone from the bluetooth and shoves it between his ear and shoulder, fiddling with his wallet. “Do you want anything from the gas station? Did you eat?” He doesn’t mean to sound boyfriendly but it’s natural and he can count all the late nights he’d walk in with no question to buy you candy or chips. He hands his card to the attendant, taking hold of his phone again and switching off the engine.

“I didn’t. I fell asleep before I could,” you confess and he shakes his head to himself, looking out the window. It’s not too busy. The only other person is a dad filling up his gas while his kids are knocked out asleep in the back. “I don’t wanna bother you. I’m gonna go to McDonald’s anyway.”

“I could meet you there?” He winces at how much he immediately regrets his words and you let out a soft breath of surprise. “If you’re comfortable, I mean. It’s the one by the apartment, right?”

“Yeah.” You pause for a moment as if thinking it over. “Yeah, that would be nice.” He knows if you didn’t want to, you’d say so and he wonders how he lucked out. “Give me fifteen minutes?”

“No need to dress up,” he assures but you scoff as it sounds like you get up.

“I’m going to look like utter garbage next to you in your suit. The pillow is permanently marked into my face.”

“It’s casual and it’s McDonald’s, although that’s not really healthy.”

“Fine, you health nut. Always trying to make me make better food choices.” You sound only vaguely annoyed and he knows you’re just joking. Your voice echoes in a way that tells him you’re in the bathroom. God, the fact that he still remembers the sound of your voice in different rooms over the phone is a red flag for his heart. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“There’s a new place on the corner of your block.” He knows that because he drove past your apartment building too many times to count, trying to work up the nerve to confess he regrets everything: not spending enough time with you, being a shitty boyfriend, changing from the man you love. Not to get you to take him back, just to apologize.

You deserve better than his preoccupied, stubborn, uncaring, can’t-delegate-his-time-to-spend-time-with-the-love-of-his-life ass.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to try that place,” you comment, your voice distant. “It’s on the way to the bus stop and since my car broke down—”

“What? Your car broke down?”

“What?” Your voice picks up again as the guy hands back Bucky’s card and receipt. Bucky connects his phone to the bluetooth audio as the engine ignites once again. “Oh, yeah. A few days ago, it wouldn’t start. I’m lucky I wasn’t in the middle of the road.”

“I could take a look at it, doll,” he offers, pulling out of the gas station. He doesn’t even realize what he’s called you until the silence hits and he clears his throat. “You know, still know a few things about cars from back in the day.”

“Yeah. Bet that hot ass mechanic is still in there somewhere,” you reply. “I don’t want to trouble you. It’s late as it is.”

“It’s fine. Promise.” He wonders if it hurts as much for you to hear it as it is for him to even say the word. He can only repress the guilt poking at his sides. “We can eat and then I can take a look.”

Your sigh is heavy, tired, but he thinks there is just the slightest smile in your lips as you agree, “Okay. But you’re not paying for my food.”

“Old habits die hard, doll. I can’t say I can do that.”

“James—” A warning is edging into your tone and he laughs. As if he could ever be afraid of you, just seeing and imagining the adorable pout he always wanted to kiss off your face. This is a bad idea.

“Oh, no,” he mocks, “she called me James.”

“It’s your name, doofus.” Maybe you’re wrinkling your nose in annoyance, maybe your eyes are narrowed in an effort to hide the mirth seeping into your gaze. He doesn’t know, but a prickling sensation pokes into his limbs as he just imagines seeing you again. “I’ll see you in a bit? Drive safe.”

“I will. See you in ten, doll.”

He hangs up before you can comment on the pet name.

Walking into the bistro, he scans the place to find you sitting in the corner. The place is all wood and warm off-white paint and light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Plants are everywhere, and he quirks an eyebrow at the tiny succulent sitting on the hostess stand. The lighting is mostly dimmed down to provide a more intimate setting, and a few other people are sitting and chatting as he approaches you. There’s a candle in the middle of the table, painting you in orange-gold.

You perk up when you spot him, and he notices with a half-smile you sit on your hands like you do when you’re nervous, your knees bouncing as you release a hand to wave. He sets down his coat over the back of his chair, sitting down and he soaks in the sight of you. Although he said you didn’t need to dress up, you’ve put on a nice light-blue off-shoulder top and a pair of dark-washed jeans, swiped on a shiny layer of pink lipgloss he knows tastes like strawberries, and winged your eyes black with eyeliner.

In short, you’ve managed to go from beautiful to exquisite, and he doesn’t need the comparison. He’s been wowed before.

“Hi, Bucky,” you say lowly, the menu open before you. A waitress comes to offer him another and he looks up with a small thank you before his eyes fall to the words he can’t quite focus on. “You look nice, as usual.” A small grin catches his eye and he sucks in a breath when he’s met with your face again.

Every goddamn time, you take his breath away.

“And you’re…. you’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen. As usual.”

He doesn’t miss the way you lower your eyes to the menu, picking it up and tilting it so you can hide your face. He smiles to himself and looks at the salads.

Bucky can’t quite remember when the last time he laughed like this, full of life and light and easy. “Stop laughing!”

“Was that even English?”

“Bucky—”

“It was honestly like you had a stroke.”

“I honestly did.” “Do I need to call 911?”

“I hate you. I am trying to live my life here, Barnes.” You snort into your iced tea at the memory replaying in your head, covering your nose and lips with the side of your hand as you bite into the straw. You’ve been recounting the tale of how you nearly ripped Natasha’s hair out with your bare fists on pure accident when you both completely lost the ability to speak English and choked on air, causing Bucky to just lose it. “It wasn’t even that funny.”

“You should’ve seen your face.”

“I can’t. I have this face,” you retort sourly and he takes a deep breath in an attempt to stop the ache in his gut as the waitress places the small apple pie between them as well as two dessert forks. A scoop of ice cream is slowly melting on the flakey crust and he picks up a fork just as you do. “This was really nice, Buck. Hanging out with you again.”

“Yeah. We should do it more often,” he says, twirling the fork in his grasp and allowing you the first bite. You manage to catch ice cream and steaming apple pie on your fork and blow on it carefully before placing it in your mouth. You nearly sigh, your eyes closing and he digs in too. Warm syrup seeps into his blood first when he chews down on the apple filling before a sense of longing for home fills his soul. His stomach heats up from the inside and he sinks into his bones with relief. This is exactly what he needed. “We can be friends, y’know.”

“Yeah, well, I guess.” You smile for a moment before focusing on the pie again. “You know, maybe the distance was good. We got time to stand on our own two feet again.”

“Yeah.” He grins softly, almost sad but not quite. You look so blissful in the warm light of the restaurant, gentle music filling the air. The restaurant has gotten fuller since they’ve entered and sometimes Bucky wishes it was just them in this little slice of healthy heaven, but you’ve gotten remarkably brighter the more people have entered. “It took some guts to end this, I guess.”

“Five years,” you agree. “Think it might’ve been a waste of time when we knew we wanted different things?”

“Well, it wasn’t so bad all the time. Maybe thirty percent of the time.”

“Ten.”

“Fifteen.”

“Five. Five percent was terrible and it was all near the end,” you state and Bucky swallows, the sugar of the pie turning sickly sweet in his mouth. “You can’t sell yourself short, Buck. I know that you regret a lot of things, but we both weren’t perfect in this relationship.” You stab the crust half-heartedly. “And maybe we could’ve found common ground. I mean, we both wanted Alpine, didn’t we?”

“And two or three kids,” he intones dully. He remembers the nights they’d lay awake researching names for their hypothetical baby, staying up to god knows when to read all about colic and teething and how to even survive the trimesters without tearing off your hair. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I never could imagine a family with anyone before you,” you confess, bringing another bite of apple pie to your mouth. The ice cream melts between the prongs of the fork and he grimaces when it lands way too close to your sleeve. You wipe it away with your used napkin. “I never told you that before but I really could see us being happy, Buck.”

“So could I.” The corner of his mouth twitches up, prompting your lips to begin to pull into a small smile. Something sad lingers in your eyes, though, and he leans onto his fist, elbow digging into the table as he tries to think of a way of getting that smile back on your face. “We would’ve made cute babies.” You raise your eyebrows, a doubtful smile digging into your cheeks.

“That’s what I said to Nat after we broke up. She said she always prayed your genes were stronger than Steve’s.”

“They have blonde children.”

“They climb walls and pretend they’re masterclass spies.”

“Okay, fair enough. How is Nat?”

“How’s Steve?” you shoot back playfully. “She’s okay. Tired, but with the new baby and all, it’s a given.”

“I have no idea how Steve convinced her to give him another kid.”

“That’s what I said!” you exclaim, setting down your fork and holding your fingers to your temples. “Okay, so, Nat loves kids but she agreed to two for Steve when they got married and now they’re having number three and it’s like wow.” Bucky laughs at the wondrous light in your eyes. “Maybe the sex is that good.”

Bucky chuckles, his eyes squinting as you pick up your fork again. “They probably talked about it a lot, debated, made slideshows. Knowing Steve, he wouldn’t do a thing out of Nat’s comfort zone even though he wants enough kids to build a Rogers basketball team.”

”Honestly, that would be so cool, but we both know who wears the pants in the relationship.”

“Steve is very happy wearing the skirt.”

“Yeah.” It falls to silence. They finish up their apple pie and you appear to be deep in thought so Bucky doesn’t say anything. Suddenly, you shake your head, chewing on the straw of your iced tea. “Was the sex good?”

Bucky’s eyes widen but you only stare him with honest eyes. You want to know like he didn’t turn into a mess when you kissed the spot underneath his jaw, like the simplest swipe of your fingers up his leg, the tiniest trail on his inner thigh, didn’t make him nothing more than melted putty in your hands.

“Fuck yes.” He sighs. He hasn’t had sex in a year. “Especially the last time after Wanda and Vis got married?”

“We didn’t make it past the kitchen. That was good.”

“Yeah.”

You hum as you think and Bucky pokes at the soggy flakes on the plate. You look at him and he looks at the plate and there’s a strange silence that comes over the table that has been wild with laughter for nearly an hour, maybe more. He leans back into his chair, his prong nudging an uneaten nibble of apple.

“Always thought we should’ve ended in bed,” he finally says half-heartedly. “That mattress took a hell of a beating whenever we argued.”

“Or, whenever you came home after a business trip. I’d miss you so much.” You grin and there’s something mentally exhausted in it. “I miss you so much but I think it figured out how to think about you without it hurting, too.”

“I’m glad.” He lets go of his fork and offers his hand, palm up. You reach forward and grab it, the heat of you sinking into his muscles. His fingers fold over your hand and squeeze. His thumb runs over your knuckles. “I miss you, too.”

“Will we want one check or two?” the waitress asks suddenly and their hands spring apart. Bucky fishes out his wallet, looking up at her.

“Two.”

“One.”

The two look at each other. You narrow your eyes, eyebrows furrowing together. “We agreed that we would split.”

“No, you said it and I disagreed and then you got distracted.” He grins triumphantly as your hands still in your bag and he pulls out his debit card.

“One and I’ll pay by card,” Bucky clarifies and she nods, slipping away to get it.

“Jerk,” you mutter crossly. You cross your arms underneath your breasts and lean back against your chair. “I can pay for my food just fine.”

“It’s not about whether you can or can’t. It’s about me wanting to pay for you,” he retorts.

He pays and the two get up, grabbing their jackets and leaving the bistro. They stop dead in their tracks underneath the small canopy when they notice the startling, thunderous rain.

“What the fuck,” you state flatly, staring at the puddles forming in the dents of the sidewalk and Bucky grimaces. The air isn’t frigid but it isn’t warm either, and he bundles his coat around himself as he tries to figure out how to stay dry. You’re tugging a scarf around your neck, your overcoat already settled well on your shoulders as you look at him. He’s got his own raincoat folded over his arm and he shivers against the thought of getting wet.

“I hope it’s not too presumptuous a thing to do to say I parked in the apartment’s visitor lot,” he begins and you raise your eyebrow. “I wanted to make sure you got home safe and maybe take a look at that car?”

“Oh, right. Too bad we could’ve used your car right about now.” You smile, pulling the hair out from underneath. “Okay. What’s our game plan?”

“Stay dry.”

Your smile turns wry. “Apt.”

“Here.” Unfolding his jacket, he holds it above his head. “Get under and then we run.”

“We are not gonna make it.”

“Gotta try. Get under.” You slip beneath his arm, your hands wrapping around his waist and he takes a deep breath to prepare himself. “Let’s go.” They sprint out into the pouring rain, their shoes slapping against the wet pavement as they run up the block.

“This isn’t working, Buck!” You twist as you try to keep pace but it’s clear that they’re both gonna get soaked. Bucky can’t quite run with you latched onto him so he throws his coat over you, tugging it tight around you before grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you into his arms. As if on instinct, your legs wrap around his waist. Rain soaks into his skull and he squints as it drops into his eyes while you hold the jacket to your head and he tries to regulate his breathing. Your arm looped around his neck, you press against him in an effort to take off some of the weight in his arms.

Your heat soaks into his dress shirt and he pants into your ear, finally reaching the apartment lobby’s door. Dropping you in a dry spot beneath the glass shelter, he shakes his head and flicks off the wet while you unlock the doors.

“Are you good?” he asks, heat burning into his cheeks and you glance at him as you pull open the door. He rakes a hand through his hair, grabbing the jacket you’ve extended to him.

“I’m dry,” you affirm. “Come on. We’ve gotta get you dry.”

“You don’t have to.” Walking into the apartment lobby, he’s hit by a wave of nostalgia. It’s been a year since he’s breathed in the filtered air that carries just a whiff of vanilla. Before, it was five years coming home to this. Rubbing his shoes on the carpet, he follows after you with a squeak and he drips all over the tiled floor while you get to the elevator. “Whew.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you point out, peering at him. “I’m not gonna complain if I get wet but you are and I’m not, so I’m gonna feel bad if I don’t at least get you a towel.”

“I didn’t want you to get wet,” he replies stubbornly. “We can just look at your car and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You’re not bothering me, Buck.”

“Still.” The elevator doors open and they walk in. You swipe your fob before pressing the floor and lean against the rail while he drips onto the middle of the floor. Wiping at some of the droplets dotting his head, he turns to you and grins. “Bet it’s just like old times.”

“God, don’t remind me. I can’t believe you asked me out right before we fell on Splash Mountain.”

“It made it memorable and you said yes.”

You laugh. “I guess so. Steve lost fifteen dollars to Nat who I clearly remember saying if you can convince me to say yes to Splash Mountain you can get me to say yes to a date.” The elevator chime and the doors open. You walk out and the keys jingle against your fingers. “Do you want anything to drink? I can make some tea.”

“Nah.”

“You hate tea. Right. Well, how does hot chocolate sound?” You glance back at him with an impish curl to your mouth. He resists the want to grab your hand and instead does a small jog to catch up with you. You walk with your hands shoved in your pockets and he casts his gaze ahead of him, swallowing.

“Perfect.”

“That was actually a pretty good place, you know. I’m gonna need to go more often.”

“Yeah. The spaghetti was al dente and everything.” He hears you snort at his comment, reaching the door and opening it with a quick twist of your keys. He doesn’t know what to expect of the apartment he’s moved out of, but when you step in to reveal what used to be his home, he knows he shouldn’t have expected so much to change. The furniture has shifted, that much was a given, but that’s about it. It still smells like your strawberry shampoo everywhere and fresh laundry, and there’s still the dent on the wall from when Steve had tripped and spilled four bottles of beer he’d been carrying. The stains were removed. The dent Steve made with his head was not.

“Welcome home,” you joke weakly to him, your eyes flashing for a moment before you turn to head to the bathroom. He hangs up his coat, unbuttoning his dress shirt and you reappear with a towel before looking at the mess that is your ex-boyfriend. He’s soggy wet everywhere, even his socks. He thinks he might’ve stepped in a deep puddle based on the pant cuff absolutely plastered to his ankle.

You hand him the towel, eyes surveying the damage of his clothes and you chew on your lip. He runs his strands of hair through the towel, the heat of the memory of your body against his fighting off the chill nipping at his skin. You’ve always done that. Your hugs are warmer than any fire that he’s ever known and just the trail of your fingers has left a fire in its wake.

“I have the clothes you said I could keep,” you state lamely and he looks at you with surprise. He thought you’d have donated or burned it all by now. It was the hoodies and sweats he didn’t want anymore because they looked terrible on him and way better on you, but anything is better than being squelchy and soaked to the core. “I could get them out.”

“That’d be nice.”

“Alright. Help yourself to… well, anything. You know where it all is.” Peeling off his shirt, he heads to the sink where you keep plastic bags beneath the sink and throw it in, following it with his undershirt. Running the towel over his skin, he sighs. His heart doesn’t thunder nor does it beat wildly—that was young love—but it does feel fuller now that he’s here.

“Here.” You toss a red hoodie at him and a pair of black sweats follow after. He catches both with a grin, but it soon fades when he realizes what he holds and what you wear. You’ve changed into more comfortable clothes, wearing a matching hoodie to the one he holds in his hands.

Thing 1 and Thing 2. Right. Before we were even dating. Just best friends.

“Old time’s sake.”

“Always said you should keep it for the next guy to come along,” he says, pulling it over his head. Your eyes stay on his own. Definitely past young love. You don’t even look at his abs and something about how familiar it is makes him sigh into the fabric of the hoodie.

“Well, it never seemed right. This was when we were best friends, Buck,” you point out. He’s against the counter so it hides him changing out of his pants and into the sweats while you bustle around to gather what’s needed for hot chocolate. “I miss us.”

“Especially when we started sleeping together. Best sex ever,” he cheers and you laugh, getting a pot on the stove. Shuffling in beside you, he grabs some mugs and searches for the marshmallows while you get the milk to boiling.

As he brushes past, his hand rests on his back and trails across, and it’s not until you’re looking at him that he realizes.

“That was habit. I’m sorry.” He blinks. It’d been so natural to do, it’s strange to think it’s wrong now. “My bad.”

“It’s okay.” You grab a whisk and a measuring spoon, waiting patiently by the stovetop. “If I wasn’t comfortable with you touching me, I’d have reacted. You know that.”

Because of your shitty ex that isn’t me. Yeah, I know, he thinks. You’ve got a streak and I hate that I’m part of it.

“Yeah.” He pours marshmallows into the bottom of each mug. “Sorry I’ve gotta add to your string of terrible ex boyfriends.”

“Bucky!” The intensity of your voice makes him turn to you in surprise and you stand there, hands on your hips, face warped in an image of vexation. “If I hear you say you were a bad boyfriend one more time, I’ll smack you with a pan. You weren’t. If I have to spend the rest of my life, convincing you and reassuring you just so you’re brave enough to get back out there, then fine.”

“Doll, I—”

“I mean, seriously. You’re a fucking great boyfriend. You spent time with me but you gave me space, you listened, you always made sure I was comfortable and you’re so patient.” You turn back to your pot, dumping in some hot cocoa powder and whisking it a bit more angrily than he thinks you intend. “You do these things that seem small but mean the world to me, and you’re always looking out for me. I just… there is no way to say you were a bad boyfriend.” You look at him again and his eyes are wide as he regards you. “I don’t want you thinking just because we didn’t work out, no one ever will.”

He’s quiet as you gently pour each cup full of hot chocolate, the marshmallows floating to the top and he leans on the counter by his hand, looking down.

“It’s more than just the sex that I miss,” he says suddenly, and you look at him, expression easing.

“I know.”

“No, it’s… more. I miss your laugh, and the way you fold my clothes, and the tiny little post-it’s you leave on the fridge. I’m not asking you to take me back, I just… I’m still in love with you, you know? You’re the love of my life. It fucking sucks that apparently we aren’t meant to be.”

“I’m still in love with you, too,” you whisper, handing him a cup of burning heat.

“You ever think we could have a second chance?” he wonders, trying not to sound too hopeful. You smile behind your porcelain mug, just a tinge sad and sip before nodding. You set down the mug against the counter with a soft clatter and so does he, his finger tracing the rim of the white mug.

“I want to think so,” you murmur. Your eyes are focused on the small movement of his finger and he presses his lips together, trying to get something out. But then you turn away with your mug towards the couch and he follows after you. The TV switched on, you flip through the channels. “My car’s parked in my usual spot, if you actually do wanna take a look. I can’t force you to.”

“Maybe in the morning? You still take Saturdays off, right?”

“Yeah. Unless I get called in.” He walks up to you and sinks into the couch beside you. You lean on the armrest, knees tucked beneath your bum as he sits on the opposite end. They sip their drinks, a quiet falling over them. No one knows how to talk after the mention of a chance a relationship can come back to life once again. You pipe up when there’s a commercial break and Bucky blinks. “You know how you said you’d drop everything for me if the world was actually ending?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course.” He thinks about it for a moment. “Sky could be falling but it wouldn’t matter, long as I knew you were safe and that I was holding you tight, protecting you how I could.” You unfurl from your ball, leaning forward to set down your cup of melted marshmallows and hot chocolate and he drains the rest of it down. It settles in his gut warmly, but it also squirms as you sit up and face him. He sets down the mug. “All I want to do is protect you. I know in the end, it was me who was hurting you and just… I never wanted that. I wouldn’t let anything touch you if I could help it.”

“It’s impossible not to hurt people you love. That’s part of it all, Buck. And I’m sure I hurt you too, and I’m sorry for that,” you say, reaching forward past the knees tucked your chest. He takes your offered hand. “But I’m glad that you’re always here. That I know you have my back. Just know that I have yours. You can count on me.”

He squeezes your fingers gently and you smile wider. His own lips pull into a tender smile as he gently pulls you into him and you go willingly, crawling across the couch to rest against him. His arm settles around your shoulders as he extends his legs over the cushions. You nestle yourself, your cheek on his chest and his thumb rubs circles along your arm, gentle pressure through the sleeve of your hoodie.

He looks down at you, and you look up at him, and there’s a moment when that is all there is—two lovers on a night in, too tired to sleep, unwilling to part for even a moment. You touch his cheek, and his thumb swipes over yours as his lips part.

“There’s no one else for me,” he whispers and your hand flattens against his cheek. He sits up and so do you, your other hand on his waist while his settle on your hips. There is something intense about his gaze, and by the twitch of your lip, he knows you’re bemused, but he’s serious.

“Bucky, there’s always going to be someone out there for you that isn’t me, no matter how much we both hate it.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he says. “I love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life.” It is simple for him. The simplest thing he knows. Your eyebrows furrow together and you open your mouth but he continues on, “I’ll love you even if the sun goes black and the moon splits into two. I’ll love you even if you get married, even if you don’t, even if you have kids, even if you have none. I’ll love you if you become a dog person or even a fish person, and I’ll love you even if you move away.” You shift in his lap, and he swallows, shaking his head at the incredulous feeling you bring to him. Love fills him up and drains him hollow, and you are everything.

“I’ll love you if I never see you again. I’ll love you if I see you once every six months, and I will love you if I am lucky enough to see you every day. I’ll love you when you’re old and grey and don’t remember who I am. I’ll love you enough to bring you back. This isn’t young love anymore. We danced around each other for three years before we got together—I’m past the honeymoon phase. This is fucking real for me. When I say there is no one else, I mean that I will never love anyone like how I love you. And I’m fine with that, as long as you’re happy.”

A beat. Bucky can hear his heart in his chest, slow and beating. He is sure of this and your eyes scan him, searching for lies. There are none.

“The hot chocolate inspired this?” you question teasingly, but your voice trembles, soft as feathers and he wonders if it is the same emotion that stitched his heart and lights it on fire. He is dynamite dormant, waiting for a spark.

“Everything about this night did,” he murmurs. Your thumb swipes at his lip, a gentle thing and he smiles. His own gaze stays on your eyes and he remembers a time when he’d do anything to kiss you. Now all he wants is your smile.

“I don’t know if I love you as much as you love me,” you begin quietly, your words tasting like chocolate and sugar against his skin. He chuckles. “But I do love you a whole damn lot.”

“Never one for words, huh.”

“I prefer action,” you agree. Their noses brush and his lungs hitch as you close your eyes. He does too, the presence of you nearly overwhelming. His every nerve tingles and his hand on your hip tightens as your lips gently meet his. He doesn’t know anything but the familiarity of you against him, the gentle tug of your fingers in his hair, the blissful quiet that fills his head as his chest explodes. He kisses you back but you pull away, a soft smile on your face. Your arms loop around his neck as he looks at you and you look thoughtful. “That sounded a lot like Lemony Snicket the more I think about it.”

“I read books to my best friend’s kids,” he points out and you laugh. “Sarah really likes A Series of Unfortunate Events.”

“Well, we can’t fault her. Steve and Natasha are some of the biggest bookworms ever.”

“Doll, she’s four.”

“She’s a smart kid.” You shrug innocently and he laughs, scrunching up his nose. It has always been easy with you. Tentatively pressing another kiss against your mouth, he feels you reciprocate it quickly and his smile spreads wider across his face. Your arms tug him closer. “Bucky,” you mumble against his mouth and he hums against you. His fingers bunch the fabric at your waist and you squirm in his lap, inching to get closer. “I want to try again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your fingers dust over his brow, swiping away hair that’s fallen into his face. He grins, eyes closed blissfully at how fond the gesture it is. “I know we can do this.” His eyes flutter open at half-mast, watching you as you carefully trace down his cheek. “It’s gonna be okay, right? We’re gonna make it work, right?”

“We’re gonna do our damn hardest to try.”

“Okay.” You hug him tightly, resting your head on his shoulder and he wraps you in a tight embrace, letting you melt into him. Your whole body seems to relax in his hold and he closes his eyes, burying his face in your neck. “I needed a hug.”

“Well, you can always count on me to give you one now, doll.” You pull back and he raises his chin as a slight smirk twitches at your lip.

“Never thought I’d be thankful for an earthquake,” you whisper nefariously and he laughs into your mouth as you press a kiss hard enough to push him onto his back. He falls, legs straightening along the length of the couch. You fall with him, your hands on either side of his head and he simply holds you to him, laughing when you pepper kisses down his neck. You know every ticklish spot on his body and he can’t help but raise his head to expose the expanse of his neck.

“You’re evil,” he gasps, scandalized, and you peek up at him through your eyelashes, your eyebrow arched. He meets your eyes and it’s like the sun is in his chest. He is lighter than he has been in months.

“You love me anyway,” you say.

Bucky can’t help but agree.

4K notes · View notes

kraiyan · 3 years

Text

i made my own little headcannons to fit in if michael and jeremy were dating and a bunch of other stuff that i don’t want to spoil so take my headcannons and please don’t pay attention to my overuse of the words ‘so’ and ‘like’

i wrote this headcannons for me in my notes so there are mentions of panic/anxiety attacks, light mentions of an eating disorder, nightmares, and self harm but i’ll just put a trigger warning for when those parts show up and if i missed anything that is triggering please let me know

- michael is trans and gay and jeremy is bisexual

- i think they would’ve been friends since kindergarten so they grew up telling each other EVERYTHING

- i feel like michael was really girly as a kid but in like 6th grade he just completely switched to like tomboy but he didn’t do on purpose it just happened

- then in seventh grade michael told jeremy he wanted to be a boy then after that with help from jeremy he came out to his moms

- michael had a crush in jeremy since 7th grade but i don’t think jeremy was his first crush

- i think since michael was straight when he was a girl he just assumed he was straight as a boy and his sexual awakening was captain sparklez

- michael has two moms and jeremys mom would’ve died in a car accident so it’s just him and his dad

- i imagine they confessed to each other in their second year of high school

- (TW: mentions of abuse) jeremy realized he liked michael in freshman year and it was really bad he could not stop thinking about him so when he got squip squip l would not stop punishing him for it

- so jeremy definitely has some problems with his bisexuality

- after years of pining for each other when they finally kissed jeremy could not stop panicking about it

- like they went to sleep fine but he was internally panicking and he tried to keep it together but the next day he absolutely broke just started sobbing saying over and over again “is this okay, are we okay”

- michael is the type to listen to a vulgar music to help his dysphoria

- so him and jeremy are in his car michael plugs in his phone and just starts singings “hoes want to be seen with me and i like their big thick titties”

- and jeremy can do nothing else but be like michael what the fuck

- they decided to keep their relationship a secret and not tell anyone bc of jeremy still coming to terms with himself and he didn’t think his dad would understand

- but i feel like michael moms had already pieced together that they were dating and jeremy didn’t mind that they knew bc they’re literally lesbians but every time jeremy came over from that point forward they had to keep their door open

-(TW: mention of an eating disorder) in a different angstier au jeremy would struggle with eating as a control thing after squip

- (TW: mention of an eating disorder) in an angstier au michael would have an eating disorder cause dysphoria

- i feel like once he realized he was trans he had really bad dysphoria but like with therapy and stuff he got over it

- so i think michael really liked afycso and had it on a vinyl and now jeremy knows all the words

- they don’t do anything at school because jeremy is still uncomfortable so they just pursuit their relationship between closed doors and michaels car in an empty parking lot

- i feel like they both got really excited when michael got referred to as sir for the first time

- jeremy and michael grew up together but ironically when puberty hit michael started to wear baggy clothes than he wore a binder than he wore super baggy clothes to hide his tits after coming out but during squip he had time to self reflect and work on his dysphoria so when jeremy saw michael outside of school he kinda said TITS and was so caught off guard by them

-(TW: mentions of self harm scars) i think michael has sh scars due to losing his childhood best friend and the whole panic attack in the bathroom thing and jeremys seen them but didn’t bring it up to michael because they’re fading so he obviously doesn’t do it anymore but it was a huge shock for jeremy to find out

- they never brought it up tho and it was never discussed bc who cares it was in the past

- michael pants his nails black and i think on some very rare occasion jeremy would paint his nails too (like the way karl paint his) and michael has lots of nail polish cuz on the rare occasion he paints his nails different colors and he repainted his nails every two weeks

- no matter how many times michael has changed in the same room as jeremy even let jeremy help take off his binder jeremy will never not get shy when he changes and will always ask to go into another room

- jeremy is a coffee person but not hot coffe because he always drinks it too early and burns his tongue

- he originally bought his hoodie™️ in really huge size to battle dysphoria but that just made the hoodie last for years

- jeremys name in michaels phone is something very gay and lovey and shit and michaels name on jeremys phone is just michael :)

- jeremy would come home all suspicious and and red faced after him and michael came from an empty parking lot that his dad would not stop begging him to meet this girlfriend of his

- i don’t think jeremy told his dad him and michael were playing a game or something and they kiss jeremys dad comes in and is like what 😦

-and his dad is shocked that he has been pushing girlfriend but he has a boyfriend and is just soooooo awkward about it and never sees michael the same but never makes any rules about them bc he doesn’t want to be homophobic 😭

- i don’t think he was really not supportive but it took him a bit to get used to it but it was so new to him and he was just so phased he just kinda talked to jeremy about his sexuality then left it at that

- they are like gendebend bubbline (marshal lee and the other one yk)

- michael has a queen vinyl the listen to a lot

- so i think michael would still smoke a bit and one time he convinced jeremy to do it with him and jeremy mainly coughed a lot then they just made out the rest of the time but they didn’t tell their parents they would be staying out after school and they both got in trouble

- michael gets blue raspberry and jeremy gets cherry but he also gets coke sometimes too (slushy flavors)

- at the beginning of their relationship they had to take it really slow so that jeremy would feel coqmfortable

- (TW: mentions of panic attacks) so jeremy has nightmares of squip and he wakes up having panic attacks and it’s really tiring bc he only gets 2 hours of sleep if he has these nightmares

- (TW: mentions of panic attacks) i feel like along with his nightmares he also had panic attacks that squip would punish him for pursuing a relationship with a guy let alone michael

- so after he got over his nightmares he just struggled with sleeping and nighttime in general like just fear around going to sleep

- so he often stayed up alll night to avoid sleeping and would like go to bed at 6 or on a good day 4 or 5

- so i think to get over his fear he had to make a routine first he would make some sort of hot drink or just water (mostly sleepy time tea) then he would text michael that he was going to sleep he also wears the same pajamas every time he goes to sleep just to make sure the routine really works then lastly he reads a comic book then he goes to bed

- i think the reason jeremy couldn’t sleep well after getting over the nightmares is because even if squip doesn’t haunt him enough to show up in his dreams anymore it still haunts him enough to stress him out constantly so he doesn’t sleep well

- to conclude the nightmare and sleeping saga jeremy basically has a night routine and sleeps with a night light

- i feel like they both go to therapy but we’re to scared to tell each other (and they both started going to therapy before they started dating)

- so fast forward they’re dating and are trying to plan a date and jeremys like i’m busy on monday at 1 and my dad needs me to help him with something on tuesday so how about wednesday at 3 and michaels like i have somewhere to be like at 3:30 and jeremys like where do you have to be and michaels like where do YOU have to be and so they count to three and say where they’re going to be and they both say therapy and then they’re like you go to therapy i think that would be so cute

- so michael has really thick glasses like his vision is awful so if jeremy is mad at michael he would wake up early and move his glasses over so michael would have to struggle to get out of bed and look for them with his poor ass vision

- he can see things right in front of his face but as soon as it moves a bit too far it’s blurry

- and speaking of his galsses if they’re really kissing along the way jeremy would take of his glasses so they could get closer to each other’s faces (like how elle and tao do in heartstopper )

- michael and jeremy have been friends way too long to not have practiced kissing with each other

- i think christine was a long time crush for jeremy so he definitely practiced kissing michael a lot since they were in 6th grade and michael was just soaking that shit up

- he’d be like what if she wants to make out we should practice that and jeremys like oh yeah you’re right and michael would be so freaking happy

- but they definitely got caught by jeremys dad and he laughed it off cause what else are you meant to when your 11 year old son and his 12 year old best friend are kissing each other

- they didn’t do it anymore after that cause they were soooooooooo embarrassed

- so i don’t talk about the rest of the characters but i’m about to make a headcannon including them so i’m gonna say my headcannons

- so chole is demisexual and panromantic

- brooke is a lesbian

- rich is bisexual and trans

- jake is pan

- jenna is questioning or straight

- and christine is aro/ace

- so i think jeremy and christine dated for a bit then christine broke up with him cause she was all like i can see the way you look at michael and also because she realized she was feeling intense platonic attraction not romantic

- and also i think they’re all friends so they have a group chat where they send homework answers and stuff

- so i think one time jeremy is doing his nighttime routine but this particular night he’s really tired so he texts michael goodnight bby <3 love u then skips the comic book reading and goes to bed but he sent it to their group chat so as soon as he got situated into bed all he hears is his phone going off so he has to check and it’s just everyone freaking out

- so he like fully sits up is looking at his phone in complete shock then realizes he never said a name so they are like who’s this mystery girl

- so he calls michael tells him about the situation then decides he’s ready to come out

- so the next day they’re more handsy then usual like jeremy wiped something off his face michael saw that he was cold and pulled him real close and their friends are like okayyyyy

- but mind you christine knew that jeremy liked michael so she knew exactly what was happening

- so at the end of the day their friend group is making plans to hang out but everyone was busy so jeremy goes well i’ll see you guys tomorrow waves at everyone kisses michael then starts walking to his house then michaels like yea i’m gonna head home to and like drives away and from that day forward their friends would not stop teasing them and were impressed they could keep there secret for so long

- so i feel like michaels moms both have jobs that run late so mom #1 is an er nurse and mom #2 is an account so this leaves michael a lot of time of being alone in his house so naturally you need to take advantage

- so one time mom #2 gets home and walks in just to see jeremy fully on the counter making out with her son

- i don’t think they got in trouble but his mom was like please not on the counter

- and then there was another time where mom #1 came home on her break cause she doesn’t live far from the er so she like yells to michael that she’s home

- and so naturally you come down to hug your mom so he comes down to greet his mom with a red faced jeremy behind him and his mom thought this was so fucking funny but as soon as she’s done laughing she immediately goes anytime jeremys over the doors open and that was the end of it

- everyone has this one thing that someone does that make them all blushy and stuff

- for jeremy it’s when michael wears fitting clothes cause michael is known to wear hoodies or just baggy clothes in general so when michael does get hot and needs to like put something on he puts on one of those body fitting v necks and jeremy losses his shit like he’s fully blushing and avoiding eye contact and since michael changed cause he was hot he’s sure that jeremy is so hot that his face is turning red and he’s embarrassed to say to take off his cardigan so the entire time jeremy is being full homo for his boyfriend michael is thinking he’s about to pass out from a heat stroke

- so i think jeremy enjoys this so much that for the first week of spring michael will only wear fitted clothes because jeremy loves it

- for michael it’s when he’s kissing jeremys neck and jeremy runs his hand thru his hair and pulls it a little when this happens michael loses all common sense one because jeremys enjoying himself so much that he has to kinda tug on michaels hair and two he’s enjoying it so much he doesn’t have time to think that squip is going to punish him and that makes michael just lose his mind so by the time they’ve pulled apart jeremy as sooooo many hickies and they both look at each other like what the fuck did we just do

- moving right along i feel like when jeremy wakes up at night and is terrified to go back to sleep if him and michael are sleeping together he will like hug him until he gets back to sleep and it works every time

- when they were like 7 jeremy got really sick with the flu and michael was so scared that he was going to die so he kissed him while he was sleeping because if his best friend was gonna die so was he and the next day he got really sick with the flu and jeremy would not stop crying because he thought that since michael refused to leave his side he got him sick…they’re idiots

- jeremy is the type to go to school with the worst fever ever he could throw up in the middle of the school day and still not go to the nurse and if he got sick during junior year forget it you had to strap him down to his bed if you wanted him to take a day off like michael had to sedecue him into staying in bed and taking medication so that he could feel better

#be more chill #boyf riends #bmc #bmc headcanons #bmc michael #bmc jeremy

19 notes · View notes

thevibraniumveterans · 3 years

Text

I'M STARTING WITH THE MAN IN THE MIRROR...

I'm asking him to change his ways And no message could have been any clearer If you want to make the world a better place Take a look at yourself, and then make a change

A couple of points to make.

1. Loki and identity

According to head writer Michael Waldron, "in a series that, to me, is ultimately about self-love, self-reflection, and forgiving yourself, it just felt right that that would be Loki's first real love story."

Loki learning to love himself, reflecting on who he really is as a person, and forgiving his past misdeeds, is the ultimate character growth, something that the TVA was hell-bent on preventing because it did not line up with how they saw Loki to be. Loki seeing himself in his mirror and realizing that he needs to change? Yeah. That's the big thing going on here.

According to Tom Hiddleston, "I don't think Loki's relationship with himself has been very healthy. Trying to accept those aspects of himself, which he's been on the run from, was a way of thinking about that in a really interesting way."

Think about how Loki praised Sylvie for being amazing because she's been running rings around the TVA. Again, it's a metaphor, because Loki has never in his entire life, honestly praised himself and talked about himself in a good and honest way. I will talk about how Sylvie is Loki's mirror and metaphor later, because this is important. It's also the reason why I started this post off with the chorus of Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror". It's relevant, okay?

According to director Kate Herron, "The whole show is about identity. It's about him, and he is on a very different path, and he is on a different journey." And it is! It's kind of how the saying goes, when one reaches rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up, right?

2. "Love is a dagger."

Terrible metaphor it may be, according to Tom Hiddleston of what Loki says to Sylvie in Ep3, "They were having a talk about love and trusting other people, and not being able to either love or trust for whatever reason." The dagger, then, would represent "Loki's experience of love, I suppose. He certainly feels like it's not been something he's been close to. It has been some sort of illusion that he has trusted and been let down by."

(https://www.marvel.com/articles/tv-shows/loki-love-is-a-dagger-sylvie)

3. "Love is… uh, something I might have to have another drink to think about."

Interestingly enough, I've had several thoughts on the relationship dynamic between Loki and Sylvie.

Yes, Mobius did describe it as "Two Variants of the same being, especially you, forming this kind of sick, twisted, romantic relationship", but even I'm having opinions that would start to contradict each other.

At first I went around saying that the dynamic between Loki and Sylvie are strictly platonic, and I pointed out that to me, the Nexus Event might've been honesty and truth, because according to the "Sacred Timeline", those are two things that nobody associates with Loki, and the fact that in that short amount of time, Loki realizing that he needs to be honest with himself throws the entirety of TVA into disarray. It's a chance for Loki to be honest with himself and really come to terms with who he is as a person.

Now where does Sylvie fit into all of this?

In my opinion, even from Episode 3, I saw Sylvie as a mirror, Loki's perfect metaphor. Why do I say this? Remember in Ep2 when she told Loki, "If anyone's anyone, you're me"?

I had jokingly thought to myself that Loki was just about to tell Sylvie how he feels about her and himself (because Loki talking about his feelings is rare, as he himself said, “this is new to me”), but then I thought a little deeper and went, “hmm, this doesn’t have to be taken in a romantic way at all, Sylvie is not a love interest (because to me that’s just weird, no offense, unless the circumstances were super different, under which I think it might’ve been okay then and depending on the situation, but not here in these circumstances) it’s just Loki admitting what kind of a person he is, and if he can be better, it’s just Loki figuring himself out.” (I'll talk about why I have conflicting thoughts later.)

Even Tom Hiddleston, in a recent interview with ComicBook.com, had specifically stated about his character: "It will be interesting to see what happened when Loki can't talk his way out of a situation, as is his dominant strategy in most encounters. I am most excited for fans to see what happens to Loki when he has nowhere left to run, when he can't delude himself anymore." That last bit with Sylvie? Yeah, Loki coming to terms with himself, being honest, not being able to delude himself anymore. He had nowhere left to run.

I know I did say that at first I did not see Loki and Sylvie as having any romantic tension between them, but please, hear me out first.

According to Classical Mythology, PSYCHE is "a personification of the soul", which is exactly what Sylvie is to Loki. It would make the "if anyone's anyone, you're me" comment make way more sense. Remember how I said Sylvie is Loki's mirror? Loki getting this close to talking about his (what I see as non-romantic) feelings about himself, how he sees his own person, talking about himself in an emotional way, really admitting to his mirror that reflects the deepest parts of himself who he really was, and then just STOPPED before he could do so was so heartbreaking.

I had said that he was not gonna tell her he loved her because that’s so messed up (I get that narcissism is loving yourself but Sylvie is NOT Loki, nor is Loki Sylvie, they’re two different individuals), but Loki was just about to reveal his true feelings, his real emotions that he’s been trying to hide from himself all along. Loki can no longer run away (remember this comment from one of the interviews?), from himself, his emotions, there’s nowhere for him to run, it was time to be honest with himself.

Somewhere I made a comment that went like this:

Loki finally finding a connection with someone who is so much like him, yet so much unlike him is rare. ("Sylvie's not Loki. Sylvie is Sylvie" and "while they're the same, they're not the same" - Hiddleston / "She is him, but she's not him." - Herron) In that Loki has always been alone, and everything that he did was a cry for help that he never received, while Sylvie had been alone for so many years she's had to rely on herself to survive.

It makes sense then, that both Loki and Sylvie see themselves in each other ("I see a scheme, and in that scheme I see myself" from Ep2) and acknowledge that they are both lonely survivors who made it through so much, that they had each other for even that short amount of time.

That connection they had, that emotional attachment that they came to share, was not romantic in any way. (I'll get to why I’m conflicted about this, and why I may come to be okay with it, in a bit.) I read somewhere that the Nexus Event was not as Mobius described it, but was that Loki finally knowing that he'll never be alone, that he's honest with himself, which is something that goes against the TVA's dictates. THAT's the Nexus Event!

According to the TVA and Ravonna, Loki can't be caring! He can't change from being a homicidal maniac! He can't change! But we know Loki can. Loki himself knows that he can change. This knowledge and acceptance was enough to cause the damn Nexus Event, because the Timekeepers did not decree it! Even in Ep1, Loki declared that he would not let the TVA dictate how his story ends. It's clear that Loki's story is nt over yet.

Two lonely survivors find each other, so it's not surprising that Loki himself was THIS close to finally admitting the truth about himself, admitting and being honest with himself... until Ravonna pruned him.

Ravonna has always been pro-TVA and anti-Loki, so it's not surprising that earlier when she was speaking to Mobius, he's like, "Loki can change" but she's like "no because the TVA said so", so therefore when she hears that Loki is finally being honest with himself (through almost revealing his feelings to Sylvie), Ravonna cannot take it and obliterates him herself. According to her, which says that according to the TVA, Loki having an honest and real change of heart is the real Nexus Event and as such, must be prevented.

Now, about love, I guess, new to Loki as it may be.

(Talking points from https://www.marvel.com/articles/tv-shows/loki-sylvie-in-love)

Here's where I think I can explain why though I'm not 100% on board with Loki being romantically involved with Sylvie I might warm up to the idea, the possibility of them being kind of a thing. I'm a little divided on it myself, but here goes.

First and foremost, here's something that head writer Michael Waldron says about the possibility of a romance: "That was one of the cruxes of my pitch [for the series], that there was going to be a love story. We went back and forth for a little bit about, like do we really want to have this guy fall in love with another version of himself? Is that too crazy?" Maybe, maybe not.

You see, as you know, Sylvie is a version of Loki, but is not Loki. Mobius describes them as "Two Variants of the same being." Director Kate Herron notes, however, saying of Sylvie about Loki that "she is him, but she's not him. They've had such different life experiences." Tom Hiddleston chimes in with "Sylvie's not Loki. Sylvie is Sylvie. I think he realizes, and she realizes, that while they're the same, they're not the same."

But what about the love story?

Mobius concludes through context clues that Loki is "an incredible seismic narcissist! You fell for yourself!" He taunts Loki, "You like her! Does she like you?"

Here's where it gets interesting. Loki had reassured Sylvie that people like them don't die so easily, they survive. He had praised her for running circles around the TVA, calling her amazing (again, another metaphor, but I think I've covered that), after which she had placed her hand on Loki's arm. Notice his reaction - he looks down at where her hand had made contact with his arm, shifts in a way that suggests his surprise. He's like, 'Is this warmth I'm feeling? I've never felt someone's gentle touch before. I think she cares for me, is that even possible for someone like me?'

He looks up at her, and though his story differs from Sylvie's, he recognizes that though he may have suffered, she had been physically on the run her entire life, whereas Loki had been mentally and metaphorically on the run from himself. We see from the look on his face that though Loki and Sylvie had spent less than 12 hours in each other's presence, he's come to respect her and her courage to do what he could never have. "You're amazing," he says.

Michael Waldron continues, "The look that they share, that moment, [it started as] a blossoming friendship. Then for the first time, they both feel that twinge of, ‘Oh, could this be something more? What is this I'm feeling?’ These are two beings of pure chaos that are the same person falling in love with one another. That's a straight-up and down branch, and exactly the sort of thing that would terrify the TVA."

Sylvie's not sure if she's got any sort of feelings for Loki, but she does ask if he's okay after they reach the golden elevators that would take them to the Timekeepers. Anyway, after the time loop punishment on Asgard, during which Lady Sif tells him, "You deserve to be alone and you always will be", Loki realizes that he's scared of being alone. He hopes that there might be someone out there with whom he can connect on a deeper level.

Director Kate Herron points out, "Who's a better match for Loki than himself?" Or Sylvie, for that matter. But because "but she's not him. They've had such different life experiences," it would make so much sense and would totally be in character for Loki to connect with someone he sees himself in, again, metaphorically speaking.

This is the ultimate journey of "self-love, self-reflection, and forgiving yourself", as Waldron puts it, so for Loki to come to terms that he might possibly love Sylvie is a metaphor for accepting himself as he truly is, not what or who he projects himself to be. It's about being kind to himself, because as he reflects on this new feeling about Sylvie, he's also reflecting upon himself and whether or not he can keep running from his emotions, as Tom Hiddleston says. The answer is no, he cannot run any longer from his acknowledgment that he's got feelings for Sylvie than he can run from his own realizations about himself. He forgives Sylvie as a metaphorical way of forgiving himself for his past misdeeds, like admitting that cutting off Sif's hair was not funny at all. It would make sense then, according to Waldron, that "that would be Loki's first real love story." Not a story about a narcissist, but a story of identity and self-acceptance and honesty.

The fact that Loki and Sylvie are two COMPLETELY different people who are so dissimilar except for the fact that they're two lonely survivors, could possibly result in them having a relationship.

Hear me out on why.

You know how Loki had said to Sylvie at the end, "this is new to me"? He means that he has never before known how to express love and care because he's never received any of either. For all of his life, he had been treated badly by all except perhaps his mother, but as in Ep3, he agrees that though he's had courtships before, none of those relationships, none of it included any type of love that felt tangentially real to him. Loki doesn't know what real love is... until Sylvie comes along. She does not make him know what love is, because he comes to terms to his feelings all on his own.

Tom Hiddleston says, "When Loki meets Sylvie, he's inspired solely by curiosity." Herron adds, about the relationship, "It was just about giving it the space to breathe and digging into it in a way that felt earned." And I think that I might come to accept that it is earned, in some way.

Two lonely survivors who quite literally run into each other, who recognize each other for who they really are, who accept each other and themselves, and who can finally be truthful and honest with themselves and each other. It's not always a game of checkers or chess. Sometimes, it's a maze of metaphors and mirrors.

I understand that this relationship between Sylvie and Loki is controversial for some, cute for others. If I hadn't already made myself clear, I was never really against the pairing, just that I was never 100% sure I'd board that train myself. I was initially of the opinion that their dynamic was strictly platonic, but because I'm open to different interpretations, I decided to have a look at why people saw the relationship between Loki and Sylvie as a beautiful one.

The conclusion I came to, is that there definitely is more than one interpretation of Loki and Sylvie's dynamic, and that I'm okay with both. We've got two episodes left, so I'm curious to see how Sylvie and Loki's dynamic plays itself out.

Ultimately, this story is about Loki.

Loki has to start with the man in the mirror. The person he metaphorically sees himself in is Sylvie, his perfect mirror, and he's asking himself to change his ways. No message, no relationship, no reflection, no realization, no feeling could have been any clearer. So, if Loki wants to be a better person, which we know he can and will be, he will take a look at himself in his mirror and make that change.

30 notes · View notes

adammilligan · 3 years

Note

I think you brought this up in a previous post briefly, but how much of the ghoul do you think is Adam?

!!!! okay so long story short: i think the ghoul replicated a few of his mannerisms, but ABSOLUTELY not his personality.

i'll start with his personality. adam is, as proven by 5x18, VERY defensive over the idea that anyone can get to claim the title of "family" just because they're related to him. exhibit a:

GHOUL!ADAM: I've got brothers? [...] Well, you're my brothers. You're telling me the truth, right? [Yeah.] Then I believe you.

vs.

ADAM: So we may be blood, but we are not family. My mom is my family. And if I do my job, I get to see her again. So no offense, but she's the one I give a rat's ass about, not you.

another thing about his personality that the ghoul did not act out on is adam's complete and utter willingness to do the opposite of what people say:

SAM: I'm gonna teach you a few things.

GHOUL!ADAM: Uh, Dean said—

SAM: I know what Dean said. And I know what it's like to want revenge.

vs.

SAM: Going somewhere?

ADAM [after trying to walk out the door while no one was looking]: Out for a...beer.

^^^and like sam's line above in 4x19, here's another thing: as proven by 15x08, adam is not the revenge type.

GHOUL!ADAM: This thing killed my mom. If you're hunting it, I want in. [...] I'll do it. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I want to do it.

vs.

ADAM [after being abandoned in hell for centuries]: [There's nothing we can say to fix that.] How about, uh...I'm sorry?

more than that, the ghoul greatly exaggerated adam's fear levels when it comes to stressful situations:

GHOUL!ADAM: No, don't tell me to take it easy, okay? My house is a crime scene, my mom's probably dead, and you two—well, you tell me to call the cops, but you got to bail before they show? So, who are you really?

vs.

ADAM: So you lied...about everything. Oh, you son of a bitch. [stands up, ready to fight] Yeah, I'm not gonna let you do this.

ANOTHER topic that the ghoul falsified is the topic of john winchester:

GHOUL!ADAM: When I was twelve. My mom had one of his old numbers, and—and after I begged her—God, 24/7—she finally called him. God, when John heard he had a son, he raced to town. I mean, he dropped everything. He drove all night. He would swing by once a year or so. He taught me poker and pool and even bought me my first beer when I was fifteen. And, uh...he showed me how to drive. Dad, he had this beautiful 'sixty-seven Impala—

vs.

ADAM: No, John Winchester was some guy that took me to a baseball game once a year. I don't have a dad. [...] Do you know how full of crap you are?Really. You see, it was me and it was my mom. That's it. She worked the graveyard shift at the hospital. I cooked my own dinners. I put myself to bed. So you can say whatever you want about our dad, but the truth is, I would have taken anything.

while the ghoul portrays a sense of hero-worship (in its efforts to lure sam and dean into a false sense of security) the truth is that adam didn't like john. at all. he was extremely bitter at him for never being around to help pay the bills and ease all the stress his mom had to go through and he was bitter because he had to grow up too fast because his mom couldn't be around because she was trying to pay the bills.

now, onto mannerisms:

while there are some things that the ghoul exaggerated to make adam seem more like a naive little kid (the open usage of [dumb-looking] facial expressions around people he didn't know, the unconfident [slow tbh] gaze/walk compared to adam's confident posture, the way his mouth always fucking hung open for some reason, etc.) there were a couple things that i think actually fit adam's character:

one: the scene where ghoul!adam puts the napkin on his lap

adam (when he wasn't being surrounded by people he didn't like/didn't know) was typically very polite. think how he acted in 5x18 in the room with zachariah: hands folded, not taking up too much space, etc. out of everything the ghoul did, this is the action that didn't seem so out-of-character for a good kid who knows how to act polite in front of strangers when he wants.

another thing: the sort of bouncing movement that the ghoul does to represent nervousness

while adam didn't do this in either 5x18 or 15x08, it's proven in 15x08 that adam is really and truly expressive around people he trusts (more facial expressions, CONSTANT usage of talking with his hands, moving around a lot [head, limbs, etc]) so if the ghoul was trying to make the point that "adam" trusted sam and dean, something like this would be the way to do it.

but while i'm on this train, let me point out the biggest difference in mannerisms that the ghoul very specifically didn't do to get sam and dean to trust it: adam's reservedness.

i've said it a few times, but adam is not one to let anything show in front of people he doesn't trust. he's quiet(er), he's reserved, and he mostly keeps his emotions (and outbursts) on a metaphorical backburner until something really pokes him where he doesn't like it (i.e. being called family by two completely random strangers). even when he talked about john to sam, his face was cold and composed and didn't let anything show. we see that again in 15x08, where he lets himself express bitterness at the winchesters (but note again how quietly he did it and how composed he was when he did it) in front of michael, his friend of many years who he trusted.

there are a total of three times adam breaks composure: one, to chew out sam and dean for having the nerve to call him family in 5x18; two, when he was yelling for help when michael was descending in 5x18; and three, when he was trying not to cry after dean apologized in 15x08. even then, the only one where he even marginally raises his voice (aside from yelling for help: that doesn't count for obvious reasons) is when he's frustrated at sam and dean. and this is something that the ghoul doesn't follow through with: instead, it makes adam erratic, emotional, prone to outbursts; it made adam act like a stereotypical teenager instead of someone who grew up too fast and learned to mask his emotions like adam does.

overall, while the ghoul did get close to a couple of things about adam, it was ultimately about the furthest copy from adam that anyone could be. in the end, the goal was to bait sam and dean with the act so it and its sister could eat them⁠—and the plan worked. so yeah!

#adam milligan #asks #thank you for asking!#kate rambles #stupid fucking ghoul we were robbed

151 notes · View notes

pastelwitchling · 3 years

Text

It started with a phone call.

Michael had come to the bunker in hopes of looking through some of the Project Shepherd archives to find more information on his mom. Or, at least, that was what he’d told Alex. In truth, he’d been sitting in his own bunker beneath his airstream, hitting dead end after dead end, and staring at the constellation and planet alignments had started to eat away at his brain.

In truth? He’d been restless after countless nights of a lack of sleep, and he wanted to see Alex. He didn’t know why, but it was like Alex was the only one who could see through the mess of his thoughts to the small, coherent part that was always seeking comfort. With one look, one smile, one word, one touch, Michael felt himself at a peace around Alex he’d never known anywhere else. He could finally breathe.

And for about the first five minutes after he’d arrived, he’d dared hope that he would have Alex all to himself. He’d found Alex at the bunker, pouring over decrypted files on a computer, and felt his heart jump at the sight of him. Even with his hair tousled, with the dark circles around his eyes, with his brows pinched like his mind was always busy, he was beautiful. And Michael had been the only one around for his attention.

Until he hadn’t been. Until Forrest – goddamn Forrest – called him and his eyes lit up and he smiled in a way he didn’t really smile around Michael. Until Long suggested he and Alex visit the caves where he was sure the Air Force had camped out back in 1947, and he’d leapt up at the chance to see his ex.

Yeah. That’s right. His ex. But God, you really wouldn’t be able to tell that they’d broken up at all. Michael doubted they had, but Isobel had assured him with a knowing smirk that Alex had told her things were over.

“It was a totally mutual, healthy breakup,” apparently.

It’s just that they were still so close, they still hung out whenever either of them got the chance, they still looked at each other with such a fondness that made Michael want to punch a wall. He’d learned his lesson the first time though, after leaving the Wild Pony in the middle of Alex’s song, secretly hoping not much would come of it, and then finding out Alex and Forrest were very cutely, very frustratingly, very much in like with each other. He’d learned not to leave Alex with any other guys he knew would want to date him again, mutual breakup be damned.

So when Alex had told him where he was going, Michael insisted on coming along.

“You sure?” Alex had asked. Not with any reluctance in his voice, but genuine curiosity. “We’d have to do a bit of hiking up those caves.”

“I love hiking,” Michael had lied. “Besides, you’re gonna want me there to fend off any coyotes and giant birds.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Alex had merely smiled at him and said, “I’d want you there anyway.”

Leaving Michael to melt into a puddle, Alex walked out ahead of him.

It made the lie a little easier to bear. See, he not only hated hiking, he hated hiking alongside Forrest Long who, like the perfect little prick he was, had been all too gracious about bringing Michael along.

“Adventure with an alien,” he’d said with that wide, perfect smile of his, and a shake of his head. “Only in Roswell.”

Michael knew, somewhere deep, deep down, that Forrest was an awesome guy. He understood why Alex had been so taken with him. But here’s the thing; Alex had been taken with him. Knowing, as they climbed the rocky terrain under the sun, today mercifully halfway obscured by clouds, that Alex and Forrest had dated, had kissed, had slept together – it did things to his mind that frightened even him. It unnaturally bothered him, and no matter how kind or friendly Forrest was, Michael couldn’t let it go.

It was made worse when he and Forrest both reached the peak of a rocky hill, Alex following behind them, and they both offered him a hand to hold for the last few steps up. Without thinking, Alex took Forrest’s hand, and laughed as Forrest tugged him up with an exaggerated show of strength.

“Thanks,” he’d panted, still smiling. At Forrest.

As Michael swallowed and put his hand down, trying not to feel dejected, he saw Alex glance his way. He saw realization dawn, saw his eyes soften at Michael, as if in silent apology for not taking him up on his offer. Michael could only look away.

Let it go, he’d told himself as Forrest surveyed the area below. Let it go.

Of course he wasn’t going to let it go.

“Why do we need him again?” he grumbled under his breath so that only Alex could hear him.

Alex didn’t seem offended or frustrated by the question. Instead, he smiled, amused. Michael loved that smile.

“He’s a history buff,” Alex said. “He’s done extensive study on the grounds here. He knows it better than anybody.”

“Yeah, study to support his conspiracies,” Michael reminded him edgily. “He’s a conspiracy theorist, Alex.”

“I found out about you through conspiracies,” Alex noted.

Michael blushed. “That’s different.”

He laughed, and Michael thought he might melt all over again.

“Babe,” Forrest said, and amended, “Sorry, Alex, come look at this.”

Michael’s eye twitched. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Alex patted his shoulder. “Shh.”

He went to Forrest’s side as he pointed at something below; a crater, just beside one of the larger caves’ mouths. “When I was going through the layout in the library, I found faint records of those kinds of craters.”

Alex moved dangerously close to the edge, his eyes narrowed. “What’s the story there?”

“Well, most of the records said about what you would expect; explosion of rocks from a volcano.”

Michael just barely resisted rolling his eyes as he tipped his hat back. “And the unofficial record?”

Forrest smirked. “Meteors hit the ground here when something broke through the earth’s atmosphere and let them in.”

Michael looked to Alex, already doubtful, but Alex looked focused, like he was thinking through the logistics.

“It makes sense,” he concluded. “It would definitely explain the Air Force encampments out here. Anything to do with the skies is their territory.”

“You mean, your territory?” Forrest smiled, and Alex scoffed.

Michael pursed his lips. The wind up here was a little colder, quickly drying the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead and the nape of his neck.

“If you even buy the whole encampment thing in the first place.”

Forrest, infuriatingly, shrugged a shoulder. “Fair.”

Oh my God, Michael thought, clenching his jaw.

Alex seemed to be able to read his thoughts, and he shook his head, smiling. “Look, I’m not saying it’s definitely what happened, but it fits with everything else we know so far. The Air Force had troops around this area, and there’s no way your pods broke through without opening up the atmosphere to residual space matters.”

Forrest groaned. “I love it when you go all military genius on me.”

Alex winked at him, and they both burst out into laughter. Michael looked around for help from the birds, hoping they’d at least recognize with him how ridiculous and unfair all of this was. He felt left out, like there was a bubble around Alex and Forrest that he couldn’t penetrate. He knew it was childish to be upset by it, but damn it, he was upset by it.

“So what do we do now?” he said a little loudly, hoping to cut in. “Take pictures? Call Max and Isobel? Write a blog?”

Alex stood, and Michael couldn’t fail to notice him wince, as if his leg pained him. “We should get a closer look,” he said. “The abrasions might give us a better idea of what we’re dealing wi—ah!”

Alex was cut off as a bit of earth beneath him crumbled away, and, his leg too stiff after climbing to move, he slid down the steep rock.

“Alex!” Michael and Forrest leapt for him, but he was already falling towards a cluster of sharp rocks at the base of the caves.

“No!” Michael yelled, reaching out for Alex and using his powers to avert his direction at the last second, rolling him onto a patch of grass instead.

“Oh my God,” he heard Forrest say before they were both up and running back down the way they’d come.

Alex was just pushing himself up onto all fours when Michael and Forrest fell at his side.

“Hey,” Michael breathed, gently pushing Alex’s bangs back from his eyes. Blood leaked from his forehead, trailing down his cheek, and dripping off his jaw onto his shirt. “Hey, baby, you okay?”

“Uh . . .” Alex shut his eyes tight, his expression twisted in pain. “Yeah, I’m – I’m fine.” He exhaled slowly, forcing himself up into a sitting position.

Forrest put his hands on his shoulders. “Maybe we should go to the hospital,” he suggested, his brows furrowed with concern as his eyes lingered on the patch of blood on Alex’s shirt. “That was a pretty nasty fall, Alex.”

“He said he’s fine,” Michael said, and stood, pulling Alex up with him. For a second, Alex swayed, looking like he might be sick. His grip on Michael’s arms was relentless, but, too soon, he let go and roughly wiped away the rest of the blood that was now staining his cheek.

Forrest looked doubtful. “Alex –”

“It’s okay, Forrest,” he said. “I’m okay, really.”

He didn’t look happy about it, but he offered Alex his arm, nonetheless. “At least hold onto me or something.”

Alex chuckled weakly, and leaned in, kissing Forrest’s cheek. “The second I start to feel sick, I’ll lean on you, okay?”

Forrest seemed a little more reassured and nodded, and Michael, his tongue in his cheek, walked off towards the crater. “We looking into this thing or what?”

Soon, they were each surrounding the crater, which was a lot larger up close than it had looked from the top of the cave. Alex knelt at one side, eyes narrowed. He stepped into the crater and ran a finger across the surface.

“Smooth rock,” he muttered, and rubbed his eyes with his forearm. “Strong.”

“That’s not right,” Forrest frowned.

“No,” he agreed. “It’s not.”

Michael nodded. Now he understood what Alex had been looking for. “The ground here is supposed to be rough, shattered.”

“Exactly,” Alex said. “It’s too clean to be caused by anything natural.”

Forrest looked to Michael. “Are you getting any, you know, feelings around this place?”

“What, like some Star Wars Jedi tracker?”

Alex raised a brow. “Since when do you watch Star Wars?”

Michael blushed. Since you looked at Kyle like he’d committed treason for not knowing what it was, and I wanted to impress you.

Before Michael could even attempt to make up some lie though, Alex fell down to one knee again, heaving.

“Whoa, Alex!” he slid into the crater and crouched in front of him. He put a hand between his shoulder blades, and felt his breaths turn heavier and shakier.

Forrest hurried to their side and knelt beside him. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Alex, what are you feeling?”

“D-Dizzy,” Alex managed, and Michael was shocked to see sweat dampening the tips of his hair. “I don’t . . . I c-can’t . . .”

Michael knelt down, too. “Alex,” he tried softly. “Look at me, baby, tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m g-gonna be s-s-sick,” Alex managed through short breaths.

Michael clenched his jaw, cupping Alex’s cheek. Despite the sweat, his skin was cool to the touch, his teeth were chattering and he was shivering, his eyes heavily-lidded. He was turning pale way too quickly.

Michael’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“Alex,” he said calmly, trying very hard not to let the horror of the situation touch his voice. “I need you to get on my back, okay?” He turned his back to Alex, and gestured at Forrest. “Long, help him.”

Forrest looked between Michael and Alex worriedly, but nodded. “Right,” he said, and gently but firmly guided Alex onto Michael’s back. “What’s happening to him?” he murmured to Michael so that Alex couldn’t hear. “His forehead stopped bleeding, why does he look like he’s going to pass out?”

Michael glanced over his shoulder at Alex who had shut his eyes tight, his fists curled in Michael’s shirt, his knuckles white with his grip. As he turned and led the longer way back to his truck, he quietly said, “I think his fall was a lot worse than it looked. He must’ve ruptured an organ or something.”

Forrest glanced at Alex, terrified. “He’d bleeding internally?”

Michael nodded. “And he’s getting too tired too quickly. We have to hurry.”

Forrest was clearly terrified, but one glance at Alex and he must’ve known that he couldn’t show that fear on his face. Instead, he nodded once and kept a hand on Alex’s back as they moved as quickly as they could.

When they finally made it to Michael’s truck, Forrest insisted on staying in the backseat with Alex.

“He might need me,” he said, not caring at all about leaving his car behind. Michael could only set his truck in drive, silently grateful to have an extra set of caring hands with Alex. And he drove like hell, breaking every speed limit and getting more than a few angry honks along the way.

“Hold on, Alex,” Forrest said to Alex who had his head on his lap, trembling and gasping. When he started raking Alex’s hair back, Michael couldn’t find it in him to be jealous, only afraid. He hoped whatever Forrest was doing was making Alex just a little more comfortable, giving him a little more time.

“You’re gonna be fine, baby,” he promised, the words heavy on his tongue. It was when they were barely ten minutes away from the hospital that Forrest gasped.

“Guerin,” he sounded panicked, “he’s out.”

“What?” Michael looked over his shoulder. Alex’s eyes were closed, his body limp.

“Oh my God,” Forrest breathed. “Oh my God –”

“Don’t freak out on me now, Long,” Michael said. There wasn’t time to curl up into a ball and cry, there wasn’t time to be afraid. He had to save Alex.

The gas pedal was on the floor of the truck, Michael was glued to his seat as the wind howled past. When they finally arrived at the hospital, Michael didn’t bother going to the parking lot. Instead, the tires skidded as he curved to a stop in front of the automatic double doors. He barely parked the car before he was out. He opened the door and Forrest helped put Alex on his back.

Michael ran through the doors with Forrest behind him, keeping Alex securely in place.

“Help!” they both screamed. “He needs help!”

“Please,” Forrest said shakily to the nurses as they rushed forward to take Alex and put him on a gurney. “You have to save him!”

“What the hell?” Kyle appeared amidst the men and woman already starting to lead Alex away. His eyes were wide as they fell on his best friend, passed out and injured. “Alex?”

“He fell,” Michael tried, but Kyle was already in full doctor-mode, pulling out a small flashlight from his pocket. “We think he might be bleeding internally.”

“Damn it, Manes,” he muttered, and pressed two fingers to Alex’s neck. “Pulse is weak,” he said as they hurried down a hall. He opened one of Alex’s eyes with his fingers, shining a light across his pupil. “Unresponsive. Start an IV drip and prepare room 69 for a blood transfusion.”

“Yes, doctor,” a nurse said. They went through the set of double doors marked ER, and another nurse held up a hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she looked it, “but you have to stay out here.”

“But –” Forrest tried.

“The doctor will do all he can,” she said. “Please excuse me,” and she disappeared behind the doors as well, leaving Forrest and Michael in silence.

Forrest slid down against the wall and stared at the ceiling while Michael ran a hand across his jaw. Neither of them said anything for a long time, the muffled sounds of heart monitors and ringing telephones echoing through the walls and somehow making the hallway feel even emptier than it already was.

Finally, Forrest hoarsely said, “I’m sorry. I – I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. You were so calm, I . . . how did you do it?”

“I wasn’t calm,” Michael confessed before he could help it, and even he could hear the tremor in his voice. He took his hat off and used his other hand to run his fingers through his curls. “I’m – I’m not calm.”

It was all he said, but it seemed to be enough as Forrest’s eyes softened and he nodded in silent understanding. Once again, Michael found himself grateful not to have to say the words he was thinking.

They sat in silence for another few seconds before Michael couldn’t take it anymore. “I didn’t want him to listen to you,” he said. “You wanted him to go to the hospital, and I didn’t want him to choose you again, so I pushed.”

He sniffed angrily, his eyes burning. He looked away. “If we’re really assigning blame, then –”

“We’re not,” Forrest cut him off. He looked as miserable as Michael felt, not as though he held Michael responsible at all. He whispered, “We’re not.”

Michael’s lower lip trembled, but he quickly rubbed his face, hiding it.

“Do you know why we broke up?” Forrest said. “Me and Alex?” Michael shook his head. “We both agreed that there was one person Alex loved more than anybody else in the world. And it wasn’t me.”

He held Michael’s startled gaze, and shrugged a shoulder, a helpless smile tugging at his lips. “What I’m saying is, Guerin, you didn’t have to do much pushing. Alex would go to the ends of the earth for you. He likes me, but . . . he loves you.”

Michael could think of nothing to say to that. He sat down opposite Forrest, his arm rested on one knee. Two men Alex had been with, two men who loved him beyond words could say.

Michael finally settled on, “You’re not so bad, Long.”

Forrest chuckled weakly. “’Course not. I just gave you the best news you’ll ever get in your life.”

And despite it all, Michael huffed a weak laugh of his own. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”

Any semblance of a smile vanished in an instant as the silence and seriousness of the situation fell like a heavy blanket on Michael’s chest, as the wait turned from minutes to an hour, and the fear of news to come loomed over their heads.

When the doors opened and Kyle stepped out, the two were on their feet in an instant.

“Well?” Michael demanded.

“How is he?” Forrest asked.

Kyle glared from Forrest to Michael. He huffed, annoyed, and Michael felt such an intense relief that he almost sobbed right there and then. “He has rock debris imbedded in his skin and a gash in his forehead! Where’d he fall off, a mountain?”

“So he’s okay?” Forrest said, his hands still shaking.

Kyle sighed. “Yeah, he’ll be fine after a few days.” He pointed a threatening finger at Michael. “You are so lucky, Guerin, you got him here just in time. If he wasn’t so used to heavy military training already –”

“I want to see him,” Michael interrupted.

Kyle hesitated, but Forrest urged, “Let him. If anyone can help heal Alex faster, it’s him, you know it is.”

He shook his head at the ceiling, as if asking for patience. “Since when are you two BFFs? You know what? I don’t care, go see him, whatever, but if his vitals jump one nanosecond, I’m kicking you out. Got it?”

“I know you’ll try,” Michael said, patting Kyle’s shoulder as he rushed past him through the double doors.

There were two nurses on either side of Alex’s bed, one adjusting the IV drip attached to Alex’s arm, and the other securing the bandage on his forehead, just above his right eye. They finished up, and nodded once to Michael as they passed him on their way out.

Michael knew they’d transfer Alex to another room soon, and they wouldn’t have the privacy that they did now, so he wasted no time in taking his hand and kissing his fingers.

“You’re okay,” he breathed against Alex’s skin, pressing his fingers to the pulse at his wrist, if only to reassure himself. “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

The heart monitor’s steady beep beep beep was the only response Michael got, but he told himself it was a reminder that Alex was alive. He could make out the faint outline of bandages just beneath Alex’s ribs under the thin white blanket, and he swallowed thickly, willing himself to look away.

He gently pushed back Alex’s bangs without disrupting the bandage, and leaned in, pressing a faint kiss to his forehead. When he pulled back, he found Alex’s eyes fluttering open. He smiled, relieved.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered.

Alex took a while to answer, breathing deeply and softly. “Where am I?”

“The ER,” Michael explained. “You had internal bleeding, they had to sew you back up.”

“What?” Alex frowned and tried to sit up, but he winced and his mouth fell open in pain.

“Easy, easy,” Michael said softly, wrapping his arms around him to lay him back down. “You don’t wanna open your stitching.” He sighed, keeping his arms around Alex, even as he was settled against his pillows. “I thought, you know, with the military thing, it’d be okay to tell you without beating around the bush.”

“And you?” Alex murmured, his brows pinched with pain, his hand gripping Michael’s forearm tightly. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?”

“Me?” he blinked, his face turning hot embarrassingly quickly. “No, I’m fine.”

Alex breathed a sigh of relief, his hand still holding Michael’s. “Good. That’s good.”

Michael huffed a chuckle, shaking his head. “You were cut open, and you’re thinking of me?”

“I’m always thinking of you,” Alex said without missing a beat, and Michael swallowed, all humor gone.

A few seconds passed in silence, then –

“You scared me, Alex,” he confessed. “I – I thought . . .” a lump formed in his throat and he cleared it. “I thought I’d . . .”

Alex opened his eyes to meet his gaze. Michael didn’t know what he was searching for, but he must’ve found it, because the next thing he knew, Alex was trying to move to one side of his bed.

“What’re you doing?” Michael said, covering Alex’s hand on his arm with his own. “I told you, you need to –”

“Get under the covers,” Alex said, throwing one side of the blanket back. Michael made out the edge of a bandage wrapped tightly around Alex’s waist. There was no sign of bleeding, so Michael took it as good news, but he was still hesitant to climb in.

“What if I hurt you?” he said. “If Valenti sees us –”

“Kyle, huh?” he smiled. “He knew what he was getting into, letting you in. Come on, Guerin, please.”

Michael bit his lower lip, and found he wanted nothing more than to obey. He kicked off his boots, set his hat on the ground, and slid into bed beside Alex. He was slow, careful, gentle. He ended up on his side while Alex stayed on his back, his forehead pressed to Alex’s temple. When they were as comfortable as they were going to get, he pushed his face into Alex’s hair and inhaled deeply.

His eyes burned, and a sob escaped his lips on the exhale. He reached an arm around Alex’s shoulders and hugged him as tightly as he could without moving him.

Alex didn’t seem surprised, and it occurred to Michael that inviting him into bed had been more for his sake.

“Shh,” Alex said softly, reaching a hand up to place in Michael’s curls, raking his hair. He whispered, “I’m okay. Breathe, Guerin. Breathe.”

Michael tried, his breath hitching as the tears kept falling, and he held Alex tighter. He placed wet, open-mouthed kisses on his temple, his ear, his cheek.

“You’re so warm,” Alex murmured as his eyes fluttered shut, but his vitals were still normal, so Michael knew he was just falling asleep again. “Don’t leave me here, Guerin. Promise me.”

“I’ll never leave you,” Michael promised. Alex drifted, but his fingers kept combing through Michael’s hair. “Never.”

***

It’s good to be back 🥰❤

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

61 notes · View notes

soundsof71 · 3 years

Photo

FIVE ALBUMS YOU NEED IN YOUR LIFE RIGHT NOW!!!

aka, My Top 5 of 2020, but I didn’t want to seem too retro!

Yep, I have a classic rock blog. Yep, I think that the best rock and roll in history is being made RIGHT NOW. And yep, ALL of it is being made by women.

(Shown at top, Nova Twins by Ant Adams [x] and The Tissues by Michael Espleta [x]. I was planning to make a collage of all my faves in concert, but not all of them were able to play in 2020. Both of these photos are pre-pandemic.)

There’s been quite a bit of movement on this list, and all five of these have spent some time at Number 1 as the year has done (gestures broadly) All This™. Anyone looking for rock and roll is going to dig any of these.

Rocking out is just the start of it, though. Wrestling with my bipolarity and schizophrenia is tough on a good day, and there haven’t been too many of those lately. The plague has also taken its toll around me, with two family members dead and a third who’s doing better, but will likely never be all the way back. (Mask up, kids!)

I’ve written plenty about how deeply Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers have moved me this year (and will do so again), but in those rare stretches where I’ve had enough spare energy to listen to music at all these days, I’ve mostly been looking for more than beautiful music. Heavy times need heavy lifting, and I find that in heavy music.

The five albums here have all helped carry me, pointing the way toward light.

1) BULLY, SUGAREGG

Alicia Bognanno is a force of nature as a guitarist, vocalist, composer, and producer/engineer. (While working on her degree in audio engineering at MTSU, she interned with Steve Albini, who remains both a fan and an admirer). A Nashville transplant from Minnesota, she’s still a natural fit in her home on Sub Pop: as heavy as Soundgarden, as hooky as Sleater-Kinney.

I was blown away hearing her searing honesty while working through her discoveries of her bisexuality and bipolarity (double bi!), and her triumphant roar lifts me out of my seat every time I listen.

“She sings the hell out of [these songs], her voice fraying to the point of combustion every time she launches to the top of her range. This is phenomenal music for converting anger and anxiety into unbound joy.” ~Stereogum, Album of the Week

Also, check this fantastic interview with Alicia in the New York Times talking about what she’s gone through to get here.

TURN IT UP!

youtube

2) GANSER, LOOK AT THAT SKY

Ganser syndrome is a rare dissociative disorder characterized by nonsensical or wrong answers to questions and other dissociative symptoms such as fugue, amnesia or conversion disorder, often with visual pseudohallucinations and a decreased state of consciousness. ~Wikipedia #it me

‘Just Look At That Sky’ doesn’t presume to offer solutions; it’s an honest document of what it feels like to wade through anxiety, day by day, not a survival guide or handbook of answers none of us actually have. Whether or not you pay attention to this, Ganser are simply one of the most invigorating, exciting new bands. ~Clashmusic

I saw one very positive review compare Ganser to a cross between Fugazi and Sonic Youth, but I think they hit much, much harder than either of those. And as you can surely guess, I also deeply relate to their themes of mental illness and dissociation while trying to make it through All This™. But my god, are they TIGHT. This is a BAND.

Ganser has two fantastic lead vocalists, and on “Bad Form”, bassist/vocalist Alicia Gaines wrote the song for the voice of keyboardist/vocalist Nadia Garofolo. Alicia also wrote a FANTASTIC essay on the strains that making an album during a pandemic puts on the mental health of the entire band at talkhouse: “Writing, recording, reaching out, balancing relationships outside and within the band, I found (and still find) myself under-rested and agitated to no particular end. More than not doing enough, I was not enough.”

(If you can’t relate to that, I can’t relate to you, tbh.)

This video also does a fantastic job of showing dissociation. TURN IT UP!

youtube

3) THE TISSUES, BLUE FILM

“Blue Film” is a ten-song shot of dagger-twisting electro-(s)punk. It’s completely addictive from the very first listen. The tour de force is “Rear Window”, an art-punk masterpiece of slashing guitars and mad caterwauling. Copious doses of jaunty poetics and social commentary reward the earlooker patient enough to untangle Kristine Nevrose’s hysterical meowing about intergalactic salt shakers and hysterectomies, but I’m too emotionally invested to look under the hood.” ~ Sputnik Music

“Rear Window” is in fact my most-played 2020 track. TURN IT UP!

youtube

4) GUM COUNTRY, SOMEWHERE

It’s not all heavy! But even when I’m looking for something light and hooky, I need a bite, and Gum Country has done it with the kind of swirly, feeedback-laden wall of sound that Lush or Yo La Tengo would make if they lived in LA. (Recent transplants to SoCal from Vancouver, I do think that the sunshine has gone straight to their heads, in the very best way.)

Indie music nerds will know guitarist/composer/singer/front woman Courtney Garvin from The Courtneys, and she really does throw up a glorious wall of sound. I adore this video too! Sweet, swinging, fun -- and yes, the drummer is playing keyboard with one hand while slapping the skins with the other!

I mentioned earlier that all five of these albums have spent part of the year at #1 on my list -- I think that this one might have spent the longest stretch there. Like all shoegaze, even as hooky as this, the truth of these songs is revealed in VOLUME. TURN IT UP!

youtube

5) NOVA TWINS, WHO ARE THE GIRLS?

Now, THIS is heavy! Amy Lee (vocals, guitar) and Georgia South (bass) are fucking LOUD, and insanely intense. A mix of grime, hip-hop, metal, punk, and good old rock and roll, they’re a harder-hitting, more theatrical Prodigy, with a pyre of intensity that recalls the heaviest howls of Rage Against The Machine. Indeed, Nova Twins spent a good bit of 2019 playing heavy metal festivals and toured as openers for Prophets of Rage. (Tom Morello has been a fan and supporter from the beginning.)

As you may have noted in the photo at the top of this post, their musical audacity extends to visuals too: they design their own clothes, hair, and makeup, they art direct their own videos, and more. They impress the hell out of me, and I’ve been a huge fan since hearing their first singles in 2018. I’ll plant a flag and say that Georgia South in particular is the most innovative musician on any instrument in any genre right now, but they’re both absolutely monsters.

I’m honestly not at all sure that #5 is high enough for this, but I’m absolutely certain that after this video, you’re gonna need to rest for a little. LOL

“Taxi” is the story of two gleefully and creatively violent women shaking up the local crime syndicate as they use a vintage cab for their moving murder scene. This is the movie that Robert Rodriguez wishes he was making with Sin City, if it were combined with Blade Runner and The Matrix. And gangsters. And a snake.

I’m gonna take your crown I’m gonna, I’m gonna bleed you out We demand it by the hour We devour, control, power

I’m gonna burn it down Even the, even the royals bow

So not the same kind of therapeutic work being explored on this rekkid, but you know what? Fucking shit up is therapeutic too!

Definitely take this full screen, and for the love of fuck, TURN IT UP!

youtube

SO. Not done with the best of 2020 yet? I’m sure not! A lot of my favorite songs aren’t on albums (at least not yet), so for an unedited list of everything I’m finding, check out my Spotify list, 2020: Shuffle This List! 268 songs and counting, over 15 hours, and not finished yet. I’m still checking out everyone else’s Best of lists (including yours! Message me links to yours!!!), so will probably be adding to this for most of 2021, too.

And for more banging tracks by women from 2020, plus a few 2019 gems that I’m still grooving to, check out my more thoroughly curated Spotify playlist Women Bangers: A Tumblr New Classics Jam. (You’ll see a couple of these tracks there!) I’m working on a YouTube playlist and an essay to properly roll that one out. I’m also still tweaking the ending, but the three dozen or so tunes there are definitely bangin’.

Tell me if you hear anything you dig here, and tell me what YOU’VE found! We’re gonna get through this together.

Yr pal, Timmy

#me #new classics #classic rock #women in rock #best of 2020 #bully #ganser #the tissues #gum country #nova twins #essay #youtube #punk rock #punk

124 notes · View notes