#but i remember the discussion centering around the pilot in a way that was like... treating it as if it were the finished product

[jonniechill]

okay not to come of as a hater for a second but i'm thinking about this again and kind of want to get the thought out...

is it just me or is the way people discuss pilots online a little... odd? don't get me wrong, it's honestly really cool to see people get so hyped up and invested in something based on the pilot alone, but from how some people discuss them it belies a bit of a misunderstand of what a pilot is supposed to be and do.

a pilot is a proof of concept for something, not the finished product. this is most evident with pilots produced the traditional route, where the final series may be wildly different from the initial pitch (the first one that comes to mind is the gravity falls pilot, although it's still pretty similar to what we did end up getting).

so it's... i'm a little concerned for the inevitable fallout when a popular pilot becomes a series that's different from it's initial pitch, i suppose

[etherealperrie]

Flight Risk

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem!Reader (vaginismus/painful sex)

Word Count: 1.8k

Contains: Fluff & angst | Bradley being a sweetheart | Talk of vaginismus & painful sex (but not in depth bc I want to keep it as relatable as possible) | Alcohol | Mentions of sexual activity | Nudity | 18+

A/N: This idea/concept was originally discussed by an anon (known as "k" here) on @clints-lucky-arrow's account. I have a personal connection to vaginismus & wanted to try my hand at writing something about it in the TGM universe, specifically Rooster. I hope someone out there enjoys this <3

...

Things were escalating. You order another beer, admiring his silhouette as he takes a sip from the glass bottle between his hands. Your eyes meet from across the room filled with dancing bodies and bumping music. He looks away and runs his tongue along his bottom lip, whispering something to the two dark haired men next to him before setting off in your direction. Your cheeks are flushed pink, the tip of your nose reddened thanks to the alcohol. As he approaches, he reaches for your hand and you take it willingly, reveling in the warmth of his skin against yours even in such an innocent gesture. His hands are soft, but not totally smooth – calloused and rough in some spots from what, you can’t be sure. As his hand envelopes yours you can’t help but wonder how they’d feel caressing more intimate parts of your skin.

You grab your beer as it slides down the bar to you, bringing it to your lips to hide the blush crawling across your cheeks. The man pulls you into the center of the bar where everyone is milling about, surrounding a piano. He slides down onto the bench behind the instrument, bringing you with him. You settle onto his lap and watch as he snakes his arms around your waist to reach the black and white keys, tickling them with his fingers. The sound draws the attention of some people nearby who encourage him to keep going, but he doesn’t, his hands retracting from the piano to your thighs. You gasp at the feeling of his hands running across your exposed skin. 

This wasn’t the first time you’d seen him or been this close to him, though. He frequented the Hard Deck, a Naval pilot. You did too: just a local who loved the cheap booze and the music. And the pilots. He’d been making eyes at you since he first showed up here again a few weeks ago. You remember the night well; the way he sauntered in dressed in a faded floral button up shirt and light wash denim, his light brown hair windswept, a cocky smile on his lips. The anticipation of a night like tonight was killing you both.

The sight of him now, like this – so inhibited and carefree – is a delight for your senses as he squeezes your thigh gently. You turn your head to glance back at him, his typically gentle looking brown eyes on display. There’s something different about them tonight, though, much more commanding. Dark and wanting. 

Before you know it, the two of you are back up on your feet, dancing along to the music. His eyes never leave you as you bump along to the beat of the music, laughing as he spins you into him. As your body meets his, he instinctively envelops you in his arms, closing his eyes while your bodies move together to the music – your back pressed to his front. Without thought, you rest your head back against his chest and he opens his eyes to find yours closed now, seeming to enjoy the contact. He continues to sway along to the music and bows his head to press a kiss to your shoulder watching you intently as a smile flickers across your pink lips.

It’s oddly intimate, all things considering, but you don’t mind. Something in you knows this soft moment won’t last much longer. The room is crowded but with his body pressed against yours, your hips swaying to the music in unison, the crowd seems to dissipate. You no longer care what people might see, say, or think and neither does he. All you want is him, desperately.  

He pulls away from you and spins you out of his grasp, taking the beer bottle from your hand. You watch as he takes another sip and sets the bottle down on a nearby table, smiling at your fellow bar patrons. His gaze returns to you and his pleasant grin turns slightly sour, his soft brown eyes hooded with an unspoken desire. He reaches for your hand once again but he doesn’t wait for you to reciprocate, tugging you through the crowd of people.

His lips catch yours as you cram into the back of an Uber. You groan as he pulls away to give the driver his address and watch as he fumbles around for his wallet while you trail kisses up and down his neck, sending him into a tizzy – desperate to explore you. As the car pulls away from the beachfront bar, he settles back into the seat, his thigh pressed against your bare one, his hand resting there, fingers making lazy circles on your inner thigh. His seemingly innocent touch has your heart pounding loudly against your chest, a warmth settling in your lower abdomen as you open your legs, desperate for his touch elsewhere. He lets out a light chuckle, tilting his head to look out the window, his fingers still stroking your skin.

You stumble out of the taxi alongside him and follow him up the few steps onto the porch, drinking in the sight of him for another countless time as you wait for him to unlock the front door. You never imagined it would lead to this – the lingering glances at The Hard Deck – to a night with him. Before you can stop yourself, your hands are all over him and feeling suddenly brazen, you tug his wrist pulling him back into you and push his body gently against the closed door – pressing your body against his, your lips at his neck. A light moan escapes his lips as he exhales heavily. He places his hand under your chin, drawing you back up to face him. He raises an eyebrow and kisses you deeply, your head spinning. Before you’re able to register what’s going on, he reaches behind you and pushes the door open, the two of you almost falling through the frame. He holds onto you and kicks the door shut, not caring if the sound draws attention from the neighbors, his arms tightly wrapped around your middle. As you regain your footing, he’s already shedding his patterned button-up, inviting you to help him remove the stark white t-shirt underneath. You connect your lips with his as you do so, lifting his shirt up and over his head, pausing the kiss for a brief moment. You reconnect your lips with his, a shared moan escaping your mouths as you run your hands down his exposed chest. He pulls away from the kiss and whispers something you can’t quite understand but nod, following him closely down the hallway, your lips at the back of his neck. He’s absolutely delicious. 

You exhale into him, your breathing ragged and wanting. He presses his lips to your skin, sucking lightly as he moves his attention up your neck, over your jawline, peppering kisses. He grabs your face and runs his fingers through your hair, moaning as he connects his lips with yours again. The feeling is pure ecstasy, his lips moving feverishly against yours as your hands scratch at his back and neck. The scent of alcohol and a cologne you can’t pin-point mixes with the thick, hot air rolling between the two of you. Your hand moves down his body, pressing lightly against him over his trousers, eliciting another deep moan.

He clamors to pull you closer but you push him away with one hand, toying with the idea of the tease. You pad across the room to the bed, making sure he’s watching as you slowly pull up the hemline of your dress.

“Fuck, let me take it off” he begs, crossing the room to you.

“Be gentle,” you whisper back, slipping the soft, black fabric off one shoulder.

“I’ve waited this long,” he groans, swiftly unzipping the dress and watching hungrily as the fabric pools at your feet. His hands are on you before you have time to process, everything an exhilarating blur as his hands quickly find your backside slipping his fingers under the lace of your panties. Your breath catches in your throat and his mouth is close to your ear, pressing gentle kisses to the skin there – in direct opposition to the rough, desperate way he’s tugging your underwear down your legs, moaning to himself at the sight.

Everything in the next few minutes happens so quickly, the pleasurable feeling of his tongue working between your legs quickly turning into a searing pain as his fingers seek to replace his tongue. You tense, the feeling nearly unbearable, squirming underneath his touch. Rooster takes notice, looking up at you, a harsh line between your brows, a look of pain on your face. 

“Hey,” he breathes, moving his hand from between your legs to rest on your hip. “Are you alright?” 

“I can’t…” you say, fighting back the lump forming in your throat as you speak. “I can’t do this. I thought that maybe if I –” 

“We don’t have to do anything, I’m sorry, I thought –” 

“No,” you say, sitting up. Rooster watches as you move intently, his brown eyes flecked with guilt. “I want to. I just can’t. It’s a, uh, medical thing. I thought that if I had a drink, or two, that it would go away or make it easier, but… ” 

He sits up next to you and runs his hand down your arm to lace his fingers through yours. It’s intimate for drunken strangers, but you don’t stop him. You smile, turning to look at him. You’d never told anyone about it – the condition that made sex virtually impossible for you. You always worried someone wouldn’t understand, that they’d get mad, try to make it happen anyway, do something to hurt you. But Rooster just sits in the silence, running his thumb over the backside of your hand. 

“A medical thing,” he repeats quietly. 

You nod. “I’m sorry.” 

“Hey,” he says, moving to sit directly in front of you. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. I don’t care. We can work with it.” He winks, leaning in to kiss you, his lips gentle until he feels you relax under his touch. The speed with which his demeanor changed to cater to you is impressive, all the more alluring. You pull away, smiling. Drunken you certainly didn’t expect the night to turn out like this, but you’re grateful it has. 

“Thank you,” you say, “for understanding.” 

He smiles now. “Now lay back, would you? I’d like to finish what I started.”

[chronicas]

hiii i would like to know more about charlie 👀

I’ve been savoring this one until I had all my thoughts together. And man........ it's been a long ass time I've been savoring it...................

Charlie is a character from a horror concept as I've mentioned, so like, keep that in mind if proceeding under the cut.

Charlie is a girl from a dream I had that I’ve been obsessed with ever since I dreamt her up. To get into it I gotta get into the meat of the dream.

Basically the dream centered around a family of two researchers and their children. They had moved to an island that had a massive extra-dimensional organism that grew on half the island as a giant mass of organs, like something trying to grow a body with only the basic understanding of what a body had, brain, circulatory system, guts, meat. And just kept trying that over and over again. The organism also started producing flora, strange trees/large plants with large purplish-green leaves and a yellow stem with a large round bulbous shape at the bottom.

The mother in the family was a botanist and the father was an engineer. They spent most of their time in the massive facility that was built to contain and study the organism. Revelations in further discussion has led me to think the facility is likely underground.

After living there for about a year, their daughter (who I've dubbed Charlotte) died it some kind of accident. The family was of course distraught, but the mother took it especially hard. Around this same time she started "knowing" things about the organism, things that were not in her field of study, then things that should be impossible for anyone to know.

She stole one of the plants from the facility then dug up her daughter's body, taking both of them with her into the woods and burying the body under the stolen plant.

Shortly after, Charlie emerges from the plant in the woods, and in a haze, makes her way to the family's house. She doesn't remember any of this later however.

The mother of course knows that Charlie is the organism and tells the dad this as well, but she still believes that she is in a way Charlotte reanimated. When I say Charlie is the organism, she's not a byproduct of the organism or "part" of it, they're literally the exact same thing. However, the older brother does not accept Charlie as his sister and knows shes dead and this is someone else.

Charlie however has no knowledge of this, she has vague memories of her "family" and looks almost exactly like Charlotte, but is distinct in that her personality is completely different. Still, her parents love her and she manages to make friends and live happily for a time.

One day her mom takes Charlie to work with her to show her some of what they've been working on, which is like normal and fine because it's not like a top-secret thing, people know what the facility is and they're allowed to visit it if they don't get in the way of the researchers. I have this.. awful drawing I mustered up really fast that was supposed to give a vague idea of the inside of the facility.

This part of the facility was underground and the ceiling was just the pulsating membrane of the organism. You could stand on a platform that would let the scientists closely examine the membrane. As the mom was showing Charlie around she referred to the membrane above the platform as the brain. The plants were also growing in the soil underground, the mom started explaining to Charlie about her work on the plants, how they behaved exactly like any other plant, but didn't seem to need to photosynthesize.

As she's listening to the explanation Charlie realizes she's seen the plant before and starts to zone out what her mom is saying. Later that night after they went home, Charlie sneaks out and heads into the woods. She starts to move more on instinct than of her own volition. She doesn't find the plant, but she finds the place it was.

She continues to move kind of on auto pilot, gets to her knees and starts digging with her hands. She eventually fully unearths a grave, which contains Charlotte's perfectly preserved body, save a few strange purplish roots that burrow into her skin.

Charlie looks down into the grave and just like starts having a panic attack. One of the people from the town had followed Charlie from a distance and witnessed her unearth the body, then went back to the town and told other people what he'd seen and how he believed Charlie was some kind of experiment from the facility and was dangerous.

Last thing I remember was an armed group of people searching for Charlie in the town and she was running to try and find two of her friends to tell them what she found, as she met up with them there was a gunshot that went past her and hit one of her friends. Then I woke up because Pib was walking on my face.

I'd love to write a script for it and recreate the dream in comic format someday, but for now I'll probably just draw Charlie every now and then.

[xenosagaepisodeone]

What if 'Gundam SEED' was told from Flay's point of view? How would they approach it? Would it have been better?

it's been nearly 20 years since i've watched gundam seed, but at the very least I can say that i would probably watch a version of seed told from flay's point of view. I remember her as one of the series' more layered and complex characters, on top of being a very fun catalyst for conflict. a flay-centered series like this would probably have to function as something closer to a pure character drama though, considering that a huge component of her dilemma stem from the fact that she is not a pilot, nor has political leverage as any kind (hence why she becomes so dependent on kira). to evoke audience sympathy, you would probably have to parallel her struggles to that of the coordinators (in a kind of cruel irony), and the series would need to actually emphasize how much of her behavior is guided by the fact that she, like the coordinators, is a scared child in over her head. i also think something that would be worth exploring is how her social power really is confined to kira-- i remember even as a kid people absolutely hated her for being so manipulative and awful when like, putting the fact that she watched her father and hundreds of other people die before she makes the commitment to Kill All Coordinators on the backburner for a second, kira is the only social capital she has. she's shuffled around carelessly without him and becomes despondent when she thinks he died. there's an unexplored folie a deux hiding somewhere in their character dynamic. her trauma doesn't excuse the way she treats him of course, but that kind of abjectly frantic and pathetic clawing against powerlessness is something i find very sad and very sympathetic.

you could hypothetically write her as a master manipulator, but that's just far less compelling to me. there's always a lot of potential in exploring the humanity of female characters who lost the madonna-whore coin toss against pure✩pure righteous heroines, whether or not the writers of seed are capable of this is another discussion though.

flay will always have haters but i think she should be valorized for being the only thing in the way of kira having accidental romantic tension with his own sister for like. the first quarter of the series.

[historyhermann]

"Human Kind Of" Is A Fun Mature Animated Comedy Series

What if a nerdy teenage girl learns that her father was from another planet and has to deal with the consequences? Human Kind Of answers that question in intriguing short animated episodes, as she learns about herself with help from her mom and friends.

Reprinted from The Geekiary, my History Hermann WordPress post, and Wayback Machine. This was the thirty-first article I wrote for The Geekiary. This post was originally published on February 22, 2022.

Human Kind Of is an animated mature comedy web series, running for 21 episodes, ranging in length from 4 to 10 minutes. The show's creator is Diana McCorry, a speculative fiction writer and sci-fi fan, who wrote Magical Girl Friendship Squad: Origins, the pilot series for Magical Girl Friendship Squad. Although Human Kind Of is a little-known series, it shines in its own way.

As a warning, this recommendation discusses some spoilers for Human Kind Of.

Human Kind Of centers around one character, Judy Reilly (voiced by Michelle Trachtenberg), her friend Cory (voiced by Kate Berlant), and her mom Iris (voiced by Jill Talley). There's also Mr. Russo (voiced by Zak Orth), a biology teacher whose class Judy and Cory are in at high school. Orth also voices a number of other characters such as Ethan, Judy's dad, and Eye Patch.

The story is primarily from Judy's perspective as she struggles in high school as a half-alien, half-human girl. Supporting characters include The Man (voiced by Jeremy Bent), Melissa (voiced by Jamie Loftus), the GPS (voiced by McCorry), Callie (voiced by John Early), Mr. Jake (voiced by Early), Ms. Coward (voiced by Betsy Sodaro), and Hungry Alien (voiced by Sodaro).

Human Kind Of is a comedy from the get-go with hilarious bits mixed with blood and violence. This includes the period monster that comes out of Judy in the first episode. Unlike some other series, Human Kind Of is specifically animated, written, and created by women. That makes it different from other animated comedies like Ollie & Scoops and Milo Murphy's Law, but similar in some respects to Magical Girl Friendship Squad, another animation by Cartuna which came out a few years ago.

From the first episode of Human Kind Of, you are thrown right into the action and easily become familiar with the characters. This is one of the strengths of the series, as there isn't a long list of names to remember. The latter is something that the anime series Cue! and the comic book series Lumberjanes, to give two examples, suffer from.

Throughout Human Kind Of, Judy's character develops from a nerdy student to someone who is more sure of herself in the world. This is despite the fact that by the end of the series, she is still learning more about herself. This makes the series intriguing despite its short length.

One aspect that pulled me into the series was the focus on child abandonment and a single-parent family. This is in contrast to the themes projected in animated series from Disney like Milo Murphy's Law, Elena of Avalor, Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, Phineas & Ferb, and Kim Possible, which show families as wholesome and without fault, with some characters even singing about it.

Human Kind Of is not alone in this focus. Some indie animations appear to have similar themes, like Ethan Becker's Delinquents, which focuses on bad kids who live in an abusive household. Nothing like that would ever be seen anywhere near the Disney Channel or Disney+, at least not as an animated series. However, other series, like Twelve Forever, have featured single-parent families.

The theme of child abandonment is handled well, starting with Judy learning about her father. She is intrigued at first, then annoyed when he leaves her behind after he promises that she will be a planetary ambassador. At the end of the series, he returns and charms her. She goes with him, hoping things changed. It turns out, that he's only using her to conduct a business deal so that Earth can be sold to scumbags. She is saved from her father thanks to the intervention by her mom, Cory, Mr. Russo, and others.

In contrast to her dad, her mother, Iris, is loving and supportive, even when Judy is at her lowest. When Mr. Russo, also from another planet, begins a relationship with Iris, he becomes Judy's father of sorts, expanding her social safety net.

The sci-fi elements of Human Kind Of are intriguing. This goes beyond characters from other planets. In typical fashion, they meet men in black who track alien life, like those who appear in Kid Cosmic, 3Below, or Roswell Conspiracies: Aliens, Myths, and Legends, except these men are not as competent. Even their leader, only known as "The Man," becomes Judy's friend of sorts later on.

Although the series doesn't include any outward LGBTQ characters, there are inferences you could make about the relationships that characters have with one another. There is a growing, yet rocky at times, connection between Judy and Cory, with Cory saying on various occasions that she loves Judy. However, this appears to be platonic love rather than romantic love. There is also an episode where a man buys 35 rings for his wife and his partners. So, LGBTQ people exist in this world but aren't necessarily in the main cast.

Despite this, romance is a key part of the series. Judy has a crush on Ethan, trying to go out with him. Once he realizes she is part alien, he gets disgusted with her. She snaps, telling him that she is still figuring herself out and that he is a jerk for not accepting her for who she is. This is one of the many scenes in the series about self-acceptance. Judy continues to have feelings for him but never gets back together with him.

Friendship is a major theme in Human Kind Of. Judy and Cory are best friends and have a lot of chemistry together. Cory is the only one in school who thinks that it is cool that Judy is from a different planet. In one episode, they begin to split apart after Judy uses her shapeshifting power to be with the "cool kids" at school. She later reconciles and apologizes, showing that their friendship can weather any storm.

The show's music, by Cody McCorry, who also composed music for Ghosts on the Coast, carries the series. The ending theme, for instance, is spooky and inviting at the same time. Other music fits with the mood of the series.

The animation of Human Kind Of is nothing on par with Arcane or Disenchantment, but it's adequate enough to tell the story. If The Proud Family can have a decent story without much background details, then any story can do that.

The parts about Judy learning about her powers as half-alien/half-human, were fun. It made the series that much more enjoyable. During the course of the series, Judy learns she has powers like telepathy, mind-reading, and invisibility.

Judy with Iris after her period monster jumped out the window.

The episodes of Human Kind Of, which aired from September to October 2018, are directed by twins Joy Buran and Noelle Melody, the show's animation directors. This series was their biggest production as they had only done animated shorts before this series.

Melody was also one of the show's editors, along with Mike Parker. Adam and James Belfer were executive producers for the series. Belfer is the CEO of Cartuna, while Adam was a producer for shows such as Magical Girl Friendship Squad and Loafy.

McCorry wrote most of the episodes, sometimes alone, and other times with Daniel Shepard. Loftus, a stand-up comedian, was one of the show's writers, as was Moujan Zolfaghari.

Shepard, another executive producer for the series, is well known for producing series like Liverspots and Astronuts and Magical Friendship Squad: Origins. Zolfaghari, an Iranian writer, actor, and voice-over artist is known for her acting roles in live-action comedy series. Human Kind Of appears to be the only animated series that Zolfaghari has been a part of.

The voice actors were one of the strong suits of the series. For Trachtenberg, this series was a major voice acting role. Berlant, whose mother is of Spanish and Cuban descent, and whose father is of Jewish heritage, is a more seasoned comedian and actress. She appeared in the 2018 film, Sorry to Bother You and the animated series BoJack Horseman.

Talley is just as well-known, appearing in more animated series than Trachtenberg, Berlant, or Orth. Furthermore, Bent, Early, and Sodaro voiced characters in Science! and Big City Greens.

Although Human Kind Of is still on Facebook Watch and its eighth episode was nominated for an Annie Award, it will likely never be renewed and will not return. Even though this streaming platform is still active, only two animated series, apart from Human Kind Of, specifically Liverspots and Astronots and Human Discoveries, have been added.

Both of these series have ended and were not renewed. Even if you argued that Facebook Watch is still offering "some good content," as Farid asserted back in September 2018, none of that content currently includes animation.

This is unfortunate because it means similar to Cleopatra in Space and Magical Girl Friendship Squad, which are on the subpar Peacock streaming platform, Human Kind Of is stuck on Facebook Watch. It is on a platform that people would not typically look for animated series.

I'm not sure why the series wasn't uploaded to YouTube instead, because it would thrive on there. I hope Human Kind Of is renewed someday for a second season because the first season ended on a bit of a cliffhanger. I would love to see it continue!

In the end, if you want to watch a coming-of-age story about a teenage girl/alien who is trying to figure herself out, with its absurdity and wacky storylines, then give Human Kind Of a try on Facebook Watch.

© 2022-2023 Burkely Hermann. All rights reserved.

[an-anticlimactic-bass-drop]

Tall Part 2/?

Prompt: Tech is too tall for his own good. Constantly hitting his head on objects and desks as he works on projects. The other bad batchers make fun of him for this but you find it endearing.

Tech X Reader

Slow Burn/ Angst

Warnings: Mild 1.11 Spoilers, Deviates from canon

Word Count: 1.5K

Part 2/?

partly inspired by this gif 

(it won’t let me put it in but its the one of tech catching omega)

Omega nudges you awake from where you are napping in the pilot’s seat. The small girl’s blonde head peeks over the arm of the chair as she looks out the window. 

“Look!”

The sounds of explosions and blaster fire are erupting from the city center a few klicks away. You quickly lean forward and start firing up the takeoff controls for the Marauder. You are sure your boys are the ones behind the explosions and you smile gently as you imagine Wrecker’s gleeful expression as you see a cloud of smoke rise into the air in the distance.  They can’t be too far off if the nearing sounds of blaster fire are any indicators. Omega rushes to the landing ramp as Hunter’s voice crackles in through the comms. 

“Omega! Get ready to bring the senator aboard!” Hunter sounds a little winded and Wrecker cackles in the background as another explosion rocks the tunnel they were in. You remember the new security system Tech put in place and shake the last cobwebs of your nap out of your mind as you recall the specifications that he had told you about before leaving. Your hands fly across the panels as you disarm the system and lower the landing ramp. You head to the ramp as Omega jumps up and down waving at the men as they trek towards the ship. 

“Ladies! Meet the newest passenger of the Havoc Marauder, Senator Avi Singh.” Hunter introduced you to the senator and you looked him up and down. The senator doesn’t look like he’s all that happy to be leaving his planet in the hands of the Imperials. Singh is wringing his hands and has a look of worry on his face. 

“I should not leave my people. They need me here!” The senator says quietly. Echo leans in with a hand on the senator’s shoulder. 

“If you stay here you will be hunted down and murdered. It is better to live to fight another day than to die unnecessarily.” The clone looks almost defeated as he tells the senator this. Singh’s shoulders slump forward as he takes one last look around his planet before boarding the ship, nodding in agreement at Echo’s words. 

The trip back to Cid’s bar was uneventful to say the least. The senator and his droid are quietly sitting in the cargo hold. You offered him a cup of caf earlier but he graciously declined. The men are scattered around the ship as hyperspace speeds by. Echo and Hunter are attempting to sleep in the bunks while Wrecker and Omega are playing Saabac on the box that functions as a makeshift table. You just poured yourself a piping hot cup of the precious brown liquid that keeps you going through bouts of insomnia caused by the nightmares and the general lifestyle of the Bad Batch. Wandering up towards the cockpit, you aren’t expecting to trip over Tech’s long legs that are stretched out into the aisle. 

“Kriff!” Tech curses as your cup spills slightly onto the top of his blacks. He slides out from the wall he was buried in and starts looking around for a towel to wipe the hot caf off of his shirt. 

“Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” You frantically bend down to help him. You grab one of his grease rags from the toolbox you notice off to the side and dab at the stain on his shirt. 

“No worries. I will be fine.” Tech strips off his shirt and you swear you can feel the temperature of the air heat up several degrees as you realize just how close you are to the taller clone. “There. No harm done. Would you mind putting this in the laundry for me? I need to finish this last bit of wiring before heading back to check on the flightpath.” You flush as you tear your eyes away from the bare chest of the man in front of you. 

“Hm? Sorry! I’ll just get right on that.” You hurry away with the stained shirt and a blush on your face. You left your cup of caf on the floor near where Tech was working. He let out a small chuckle as he steals your drink. Not his fault if you left it in your hurry. 

The ship lands back at Cid’s bar without incident. The senator thanks you all graciously and departs into Cid’s office to discuss payment. Wrecker and Omega not so sneakily sneak off to get Mantell mix and Echo follows them at a distance to make sure they stay out of trouble. Tech goes to the bar to get a drink and you sit beside him to discuss the mission. You flush as you think about the previous night on the ship and you clench your jaw to avoid licking your lips at the thought of the bare chest of the taller clone next to you. You aren’t ashamed to say you dreamed of the expanse of skin and what it might taste like while you were in your bunk after that episode last night. 

“Am I boring you? I can stop if you would like.” Tech looks concerned as you zone back into reality and realize you have been watching him with a blank expression for a beat too long. You blink in surprise as you shake away the untamed thoughts that have been plaguing your mind. You really can’t be anymore obvious in your crush can you? At this point you might as well have a giant sign that follows you around that says “This person has a crush on the tall nerdy one!” 

“No!” You exclaim a little too loudly and get some irritated looks from the other patrons of the bar. “Sorry I'm just distracted today. The mission has me a little rattled. I am not used to being that deep into enemy space.” You say in a quieter tone.

“We are also not used to it. I always knew we would make it to Raxus someday however I never thought about it being to save the seperatist leader. Echo was most displeased about the idea and protested greatly. I tried to convince him that it was just a job and we need to pay off our debt to Cid but he does not see it this way.” Tech seems saddened at his brother’s inability to see the mission without the politics. You can see Echo’s point of view and point out to Tech that Echo’s trauma probably makes it hard for him to trust the separatists seeing as they had kidnapped and tortured him for 2 years before he was rescued. 

“The Techno Union treated him like a computer! An algorithm! Barely even human! I really don’t blame Echo for not trusting the separatists. He has barely recovered from the trauma of being in that machine for so long. He is still really pale and frail and you haven’t finished working on his new limbs yet so he still has the prosthetics they forced on him. Speaking of which, if you need help working on those I am always available. He has every reason to be upset about this mission.” 

You are fully involved in the discussion and don’t hear Echo and the others enter the bar as they make their way over to you and Tech. Echo catches the tail end of the conversation and tries to announce their presence with a small cough that turned into a hacking one that left Omega looking concerned. Her big round eyes are full of unspoken worry as she gazes up at him. Echo glances down at the young girl and forces a smile, patting her head. 

“I am fine little one. Don’t worry about me.” He says reassuringly.

Hunter leaves Cid’s office with her and the Senator. He comes over to where the group has gathered and steals Tech’s abandoned drink. He chugs the rest of it and gestures for the group to follow as he heads back to the ship.  Tech stands up and offers his hand to you to help you off of the bar stool. He has a habit of making sure none of the Bad Batchers fall over, a habit he has picked up from their upbringing on Kamino where the other 3 clones were not the best balanced due to their enhanced abilities. Your face flushes again as you become uncomfortably aware of how close you two have gotten during the conversation. He leans away from your touch as if he also hadn’t realized how close you two had gotten. Tech turns to follow Hunter out the door and has to stoop a little to avoid hitting the door frame, Echo cracking a quiet joke about not having to worry about hitting the top of door frames since he lost a few inches. Only Omega and you caught the joke and you give a chuckle as Omega just looks confused. 

“The legs you see? Lost a few inches? Oh well.” Echo gave up on explaining the joke to the kid and followed Wrecker out the door towards the ship. 

Once back on the ship Hunter announces that they have been given a few days off courtesy of Cid since the mission went so smoothly. The other bad batchers glance at each other, not sure of what to do with their new time off.  You were pretty sure they have never had free time in their entire life.

“We could visit Cut and Suu? See how they are settling in!” Suggests Omega. 

“Too dangerous for them. We attract too much attention. The last thing they need is to be recognized as republic sympathizers.” reasons Tech. 

“I think we deserve a few days of downtime! We can take a well deserved vacation and rest up before the next mission.” you say as you pour a cup of caf from the pot Tech started when you arrived back at the ship. “We can get some repairs done on the ship and maybe even explore the city! I know Omega has been dying to go to the museums in the city center since we got here and I'm sure you boys would enjoy it too.” 

Hunter thinks for a moment and nods in agreement. 

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Taglist: @haloangel391 @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

[hageny]

Succession Thoughts: Gerri x Roman

AN: The first point in this post was requested by @thinkingfixatingobsessing​, so credit goes to her for the idea. 

WARNING: Mentions of child sexual abuse in point one. 

1. What In Here is Real?

A lot of fans tie Roman’s ‘dog cage’ experience to his adult need for degradation, and certainly there is a valid reason. The murky circumstances surrounding the incident(s) in his childhood--Roman remembering being forced; Connor and Kendall remembering him liking it; Connor remembering what their father said about “two fighting dogs” in relation to the incident--make it difficult to say how much of what Roman remembers is real and how much is his emotions skewing his memories. What is totally overlooked is the scene above, which takes place in Austerlitz. The family has just arrived at Connor’s ranch for the not-so-optional family therapy session when Roman says something very interesting to Connor, telling him that he plans to tell Alon Parfit, the group’s therapist, that Connor molested him as a child. Given Roman’s ‘dog cage’ revelation only one episode later, it struck me as very interesting that Roman makes a joke about what is for many a deep, childhood trauma. Now, I should clarify, I don’t believe Connor in any way abused Roman, and it seems fairly obvious Roman was just doing this for shock value, but there is a point to be made here. It seems pertinent to ponder whether Roman’s ‘dog cage’ experience could tie into a deeper, darker truth in his childhood. Maybe it’s possible that Roman actually did go into the cage willingly, and to some degree submitted--as much as someone who is emotionally/mentally abused as a child can--to his siblings’ game. All of them being children themselves, they wouldn’t have had the insight and maturity to understand his behavior was abnormal. What we do know of Roman’s experience is that it caused him to start wetting the bed, and he was eventually sent away to St. Andrews; again, he thinks this occurred against his will, Connor says he went willingly. What is interesting his Roman’s description of the effects of the ‘dog cage’ incident closely aligns with what may happen to a child who is molested. As Roman puts it, “Kendall locked me in a cage, I went weird, I started wetting the bed, and that’s why dad sent me away to St. Andrews.” Now, I should be clear, I am not a mental health professional of any sort, so all of what I say here is gleaned through years of reading about crime stories and second-hand research, but re-watching this scene caused me to remember that when Jon Benet Ramsey was murdered, many wondered--and still do--whether it was possible she was molested as a child due to her still wetting the bed at the age of six. From what we can gather, Roman would have been probably around the same age, if not older, when the alleged ‘dog cage’ incident occurred; his mentions of ‘going weird’ could be his best way to articulate what could have been a mental breakdown suffered during his childhood. His parents, having no clue what to do with him, would have naturally sent him to a rigorous, regimented school that, they believed, could have righted his ‘abnormal’ behavior. There are many signs children can possibly exhibit as a result of sexual abuse, but a few of them struck me because they describe even Roman’s adult behavior:

Regressive behaviors or resuming behaviors they had grown out of, such as thumb-sucking or bedwetting

Overly compliant behavior

Decrease in confidence or self-image

Change in mood or personality, such as increased aggression

We notice Roman’s lack of confidence constantly over the course of the series. In Sad Sack Wasp Trap, we see him studying his body carefully in the mirror, obviously displeased with what he sees, and then quickly buttoning up his shirt when Grace enters. As an adult there’s no question that he is--around his father, especially--overly compliant, going along with what Logan says and most of the time unwilling to buck him. While Roman is certainly not aggressive in the sense of being a danger to others, we do notice that his temperament borders on the aggressive quite a lot of the time, and he has a sadistic side, taking pleasure in tormenting others for his own amusement. We also know that the infamous Lester McClintock--Mo-Lester--was a friend of Logan’s; while it’s not stated that he abused any children, if he was a family friend, there is a possibility he was around Roman as a child. Connor, in Safe Room, does tell Willa that Logan wouldn’t let his kids get in the pool with Lester, so the possibility of his being a pedophile is there. Maybe the abuser was someone else. Maybe Roman wasn’t abused at all and I’m way off base. But I bring the point up for discussion only because as I pondered it, I myself began to wonder. 

2. Patrick Bateman

SPOILER ALERT: The ending to the movie, American Psycho. is discussed below. 

In I Went to Market, Shiv makes a quip when Roman tells her he has a hobby, saying to him, “Killing hobos isn’t a hobby.” Anyone old enough to remember--or old enough to have watched American Psycho or read the book--will remember that Patrick Bateman, the novel’s famous protagonist, descends slowly into violence as his disgust for society deepens, and begins literally killing homeless people on the streets of New York City, using homicide as an outlet for his uncontrollable rage. For the sake of convenience, I will discuss the movie a bit here, as I read the book years ago and do not remember much. The end of the movie is open to interpretation, leaving the audience to decide whether Bateman did actually kill anyone and it was cleaned up for him because he was wealthy, or whether he simply fever-dreamed the experiences. It’s interesting that the show draws a tie to Patrick Bateman and Roman, but having considered Bateman’s behavior there are some similarities. Roman, like Bateman, has a total disregard for the lower class, no more openly displayed than in the pilot episode where he tears up the check in front of the little boy at his family’s baseball game. He also, as noted in the previous point, has a temper, sometimes flying quickly off the handle when things don’t go his way. He is tightly wound, constantly agitated by the world around him, and driven by impulse. Where Bateman’s impulses lead him to murder, Roman’s take a different path, leading him to push the envelope of appropriate behavior for shock value, or drop and pick up girlfriends like objects. While Roman certainly would never kill anyone in a literal sense, he is not afraid to destroy those beneath him without a second thought, obliterating Vaulter simply because he wants to, manipulating the staff into admitting they want to unionize--which  might’ve saved them--and then handing his information over to his father so as to leverage himself and his desire to shut Vaulter down over Kendall’s desire to keep it open. The point is is that the show, by drawing a link between these two characters, could perhaps be suggesting to the audience that Roman’s behavior, like Bateman’s, requires an understanding of nuance. Bret Easton Ellis, who wrote the novel, grew up in an environment similar to Roman’s, coming from a wealthy family, deriving much of his literary material from what he witnessed as a child and an adult. It could perhaps best be said that both characters are a study in how environments shape people: what they bring out in them, and what they create that, for better or worse, can be left to bubble just below the surface. 

3. Only Good?

This point will be fairly brief, but I did find it pertinent to comment on how many people in the fandom--maybe younger people who don’t understand the show’s nuances--seem content to constantly cast Gerri as an artless bystander to the cruises situation when this is simply not the case. It could be that some don’t recall, but in the above scene from Pre-Nuptial, Shiv demands that ATN lay off Gil Eavis by blackmailing Gerri, telling her that if she doesn’t get her way that she will blow the lid on the scandal that centers around Lester McClintock. What’s most important is the fact that when Shiv mentions the “cruise division horror show”, Gerri never asks for clarification regarding Shiv’s point. This, obviously, is because Gerri doesn’t need it. While I am not suggesting Gerri knew all along about the scandal, her lack of need for Shiv to clarify what she means by “the cover-up” is an indicator that Gerri not only knew what was going on before the audience did, but perhaps also had a hand in hiding what was happening. There could be many reasons she did so, but I felt compelled to make this point because so often people believe Gerri was caught off-guard by what was occurring at Brightstar, when in fact our introduction to her in the show was intended to serve as an indicator of her character. The phrase, “stone-cold killer bitch”, used flirtatiously by Roman, was not only intended to amuse, but also to give insight into her character. In order to survive and thrive in Waystar, Gerri would have had to have been anything but an artless child, and her reputation as a ‘stone-cold killer’ is apt, as it describes the sort of character a person generally has to take on in order to climb the ranks of the corporate world. Gerri’s panic as the cruises situation unfolds is not due to the nature of the incidences (nor is Shiv’s for that matter)--it is due to the panic she feels at having to take the fall for what occurred. What actually happened, the facts of it, don’t really bother her. That’s what makes a killer. 

[emmyisafanandacon]

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭!𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐛𝐬 𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐫!𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

[FLUFF] Word Count: 2083 words It’s a very hot day out in the field, which is unfortunate since ground operations are currently ongoing today. You were hoping to delay the operations further down another term, but unfortunately, the backlog operations from the pandemic were ridiculous, so you decided to take your missed simulations all in one day. What a shame that you had to choose the hottest day of the year, it seems. So now here you are, sitting on a chair in the giant hangar as you wait for your head instructor to come back with your assigned instructor for your ground operations. The shade from the hangar may be some comfort, but it truly felt like the heat was bouncing off the asphalt. You quietly pray that it would not affect the aircraft you need to taxi, and hope that it would be a little cooler in the aircraft.

Probably not. It’s a single-engine aircraft. The metal might exacerbate the heat for you. You sigh out your discomfort and looked around. Around you were a bunch of different aircraft, some of the models you recognize from your classes. You hold back a small grimace, as you remember the last time you did your aircraft taxiing, your instructor pilot was a bit strict on your taxi control, requiring you to stay perfectly in the middle of the runway for the taxi. It was a miracle you passed that term. God, it feels like it has been 10 minutes since you last saw your head instructor. But he seemed to have disappeared out of nowhere. You just hope that the pilot assigned to you was a decent one. “Excuse me?” You turn around to find yourself staring at one of the newer pilots you saw hanging around the faculty. A tall young man gives you a sheepish grin, his grey eyes twinkling with jittery energy. He’s dressed in a typical pilot’s uniform, with a brown leather briefcase hanging from his shoulder. You’ve heard about him several times from some of your schoolmates, the new cute pilot with fluffy brown hair and a charming smile. He’s caught the attention of so many people, so it’s pretty interesting to finally meet the actual person. “Hi. I am so sorry that I took too long, that was very unprofessional of me.” he scratches the back of his head, clearly embarrassed. “No, it’s fine. I wasn’t waiting too long.” you lied. “The head instructor told me to wait here, I’m guessing it’s my turn on the aircraft?” He shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck, “Unfortunately, there have been some setbacks on the scheduling. We might have to wait a bit longer before the run-up operation.” “It’s okay. I guess I’ll wait a little longer.” “I'm truly sorry about that,” he begins to look around the hangar. “They asked you to wait here?” “…Yes?” He looks up at the bright blue sky peering out of the hangar’s roof, blinking at the sun’s bright glare from the concrete ground. “Maybe it’s best if we stayed in the pilot’s lounge, that way you wouldn't have to stay in this heat.” He glances back to you with a nervous smile, his eyes almost iridescent. “If that’s okay with you! I was just thinking that the hangar might not be the best place to stay in. It’s a bit hot today that’s all.” You smile at the skittish instructor. “It’s alright Captain. I’m fine with waiting in the pilot’s lounge.” His cheeks began to turn red, as he gives a flustered giggle. “I- Please don’t call me that, it makes me feel a bit older than I should. I think we’re quite close in age after all.” “Okay,” you smile cheekily at him, saving the fact that he gets embarrassed quickly in mind for future references. “What should I call you then?” “Ah, sorry! I forgot to introduce myself,” he extends a hand out to you, “My name is Capt. Karl Jacobs. I’m one of the new flight instructors. Though you can call me Karl instead, I’d rather not follow protocol.” “[Y/N], Aerospace Engineering, Year 3.” He raises a brow, “Aerospace Engineering? Very interesting, what’s it like to have that course?” “If you can handle eons of mathematics, it’s not a bad course to have,” you laugh. He shakes his head. “I don’t think I can handle that much math, I’d rather leave that to better people like you. Shall we head to the lounge?” You nod, as you sit up and you start to gather your belongings to head to the pilot’s lounge. But Karl stops you and grabs your bag for you, giving you a wink as he starts to walk inside. You weren’t expecting that, but it’s not uncommon for flying students to try to be chivalrous towards their company. You follow him in, though you find your thoughts catching up to you. It’s absurd, you think, calling a pilot by their first name. Normally calling the pilots by their name was strange, but Karl clearly isn’t like the other pilots or the flying students you constantly rub elbows with. “Karl…” You try, slightly cringing at the lack of Captain or Sir. “Isn’t it a bit rebellious to not follow protocol? What would the other captains

say?” you jest at him as he leads you through the empty hallways. He gives you a little smile. “It’s fine for me. Don’t you call the AMT technicians and the AE engineers by their names?” You roll your eyes at him. “Well, that’s because we see them more often, and we’re more familiar with each other, so it’s fine to call them by their names. Though aren’t you guys stricter with the flying students?” He laughs at that, “We are, but you’re not a flying student. Unless… Do you plan on switching?” You shake your head, “Nope, you’re talking to an engineer through and through.” As you uttered those words, you both found yourselves in front of the pilot lounge’s entrance. He opens the door and holds the door for you expectantly, the cold air from the lounge blasting around you. You give a small smile of gratitude and enter, noticing that the lounge is also empty. “Why aren’t there many people around? Aren’t there students taking their required hours too?” You ask Karl as you seat yourself in one of the many chairs around the lounge, dropping your things down a table. “From what I understood, contact has to be limited still, and that there aren’t many students who have scheduled their ground operation schedule yet. So not many people should be on the grounds right now.” He explains as he brings out a folder from his bag taking the seat next to you. “Do you have your ground operations info sheet? I’ll help you fill out the details of the aircraft we should be using today.” You look at him in surprise, “Usually the technicians are the ones who help us fill this out, aren’t you the one who’s supposed to grade me instead?” He gives a cheery smile in response. “It’s fine, we don’t have much to do anyway as we wait. We might as well fill out the form, besides,” he lifts the grading rubric he has in his hand. “I’ll still grade you fairly based on your taxiing performance. Nothing to worry about.” You give him an impassive look, to which he laughs in response. “I won’t have too high expectations, I swear! I’m only strict towards flying students.” he raises his hands in defense. You sigh, but you allow him to take a look at your information sheet, filling up the details of the aircraft with his help. He stays close to you the whole time, and you can almost feel his fluffy curls touch your hair lightly, his warmth cascading over you lightly as you try to focus on your sheet. His hands meeting yours from time to time as he points at different parts of the info sheet, directing you on what to write. After the sheet was completed, you hand your sheet for Karl to keep and you fell into simple conversation, discussing technical things, like how it’s like to be an instructor or a pilot. Karl answered with an excitable passion for all questions, almost like a cute puppy receiving a treat. (“But wasn't the exam difficult? I heard so many people failed it.” “It took me one month to study for it.” “…Wow.”) Soon, the questions delved into personal territory, from why you chose to be an engineer and eventually fell into Karl’s many adventures as a flying student. (“How are you still a pilot?” “I have no clue either that was incredibly dumb of me too.” “Have you at least fixed your Monster addiction problem?” “…..Hey so, what do you guys do in that laboratory of yours?” “DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT KARL.”) You both learned so much about each other, learning that you two were only two years from each other. (“How did I not meet you sooner when you were still a student?” “I was always in the library.” “Like a nerd?” “No, I- Hey! Take that back!”) An hour passed, and soon the head instructor entered the lounge, notifying the both of you that it is your turn for the ground operation training, apologizing for the long delay. And yet, you don’t feel frustration for the long wait. You follow Karl and your head instructor out into the runway where the aircraft was dropped off by another duo taking the taxiing procedure. You both rush into the plane, climbing in as the propellers burst large gusts of air. The previous pilot

quickly switched places with Karl, as you greet your fellow student as you try to climb in. Once you got in the aircraft, you felt both excited and nervous as Karl looks through your paper. “Ready to taxi?” He asks with a cheery grin. You give him a small nod, as you watch him turn on the engine to a slow speed for the aircraft to start moving. “Remember to stay in the middle of the runway, and you can adjust the speed of the engine if you want the aircraft to go faster.” Pushing the pedals on your feet to center the aircraft onto the runway, you try to follow the white middle line on the concrete as best as you can. You find yourself slightly gripping the yolk, as you try to point the nose of the aircraft straight at the middle. Karl encourages you the whole time as you go for a turn towards the left. You notice another aircraft taxiing nearby and try to maintain a distance away from them, slowing to give them space. Karl smiles in acknowledgment as you still try to keep the pace and distance steady the best you can. He starts pointing out parts of the aircraft to you, introducing the flight instruments as you continue to steer the aircraft around the runway. Eventually, he directs you to park the aircraft to a specific area. As soon as the aircraft falls to a full stop, he gives your info sheet with a smile. “Congratulations, full marks. Maybe you could be a pilot instead, and fly with me?” He teases. You smile back at him, “I won’t be flying the plane anytime soon, but maybe I’ll work with you sometime in the future?” He giggles at the idea, “Let’s see. See you someday engineer, hope I’m your instructor again soon.” “See you someday, Captain Karl Jacobs.” You grin as you clamber out of the plane with the help of some technicians outside and head back to the hangar to check your info sheet. Exactly as he said, he graded your procedure with perfect marks, giving excellent praise and comments on your driving. Before you thought of passing the paper to your head instructor, you noticed a white sticky note attached at the back of the paper with a small message written on it. ‘It was fun talking to you, maybe you’d be up for more of that another time? Just shooting my shot. XXXX-XXX-XXXX -Karl <3’ You smile at the sticky note, keeping it in your pocket as you hand over your info sheet to your head instructor as he dismissed you off. As you head out towards the exit, you send a text out to the number. ‘Sure, coffee date sometime? Good luck on instructing everyone else. <3 -Future Engineer’

𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢 𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 20 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘢 𝘢 𝘢

𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘺𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯

𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳! 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵!

[kippykasey]

Grace - Chapter 5: Hydra

Pairing: Howard Stark x F!Reader , Bucky x Reader [Eventually]

Word Count: 3522

Series Summary: A young nurse is recruited by Dr. Abraham Erskine to join the SSR to assist on Project Rebirth. Following her work with the SSR she is drafted into the US Army Nurse Corps in the war against the Nazis...and HYDRA.

Chapter Warnings: violence, torture, bad things because Hydra

Author's Note: Surprise?! I wasn't even expecting to get this done but I literally just finished and thought, eh why not. So here it is! Also I hate hurting my characters so this was a bit eh to write but I hope all is well!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the gifs they are either found on google or under the gif tag provided by tumblr. Any language other than English was translated using Google Translator, and translations will be posted in bolden italics after. I am not a nurse or in the medical field although I may do some research medical treatment written may not be correct.

Grace Masterlist | Snowdrop Masterlist | Masterlist

Pain. A throbbing, harsh pain echoed through my head from the temple. The throbbing beat opposite that of my heart. The second thing I noticed was how cold and damp it was. After battling with my body to force open my eyes I squint through the dimly lit room. A deep voice spoke in another language… German it was German but my head hurt too much for me to understand it. Seconds passed before I realized that I was sitting on the ground in a cell. The door opened and two men walked in flanked by four additional soldiers than the one that had been watching me.

“Ah Fräulein (L/n) glad you have finally woken up.” Miss.

“Who are you?” I cursed how weak my voice sounded at that moment. Though the man didn’t seem to find me a threat of escape as he spoke. “Johann Schmidt. You see we have a common acquaintance… or, well, had.” The grin he wore made my stomach drop and he didn’t need to verbally admit it for me to realize this is the man behind Abraham’s death.

I raised my head in defiance and although it made the pounding in my head worsen I pushed myself from the ground and stood within the cell. “You’re after the serum.”

“Ah, clever girl. You were Abraham’s assistant when he made the serum.” The second, much shorter man spoke. “Fault in your plans. I don’t know how to make the serum.” Schmidt smiled at me and it took all my self control not to shiver from his intense look. “I was hoping you would say that,” His eyes turned off me to the soldiers. “Bring sie zum Stuhl. Probiere es an ihr aus. Vielleicht wird ein kleiner Elektroschock Ihr Gedächtnis auffrischen.” Take her to the chair. Try it out on her. Perhaps a bit of electroshock will refresh your memory. As Schmidt talked his head also turned towards the shorter man.

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I moved back against the wall. Three soldiers stepped towards the cell. One man opened the cell door before the other two stepped inside to detain me. I managed to elbow one in the face in my struggle but it was useless. The two soldiers dragged me from the cell, out of the room into a brighter lit hall. We were in some kind of warehouse. My eyes zeroed in on a chair that looked right out of a nightmare. Stronger hands forced me into the hard chair and held me down while I was struggling against someone’s attempts to strap me in. My struggling did nothing but get me a slap to the face. The strength of the slap disoriented me long enough for them to strap me in.

The shorter man who followed us now stood next to my head. I could see the reflection of myself in his glasses. “This is only going to hurt a lot, try to hold still.” He instructs lowering two plates down around my face. It was only a few short moments before the electricity forced its way into my head. I had no control over my body as it thrashed in the confines of the chair. An agonizing scream of pain carrying throughout the building went ignored.

That wasn’t my first time in the chair but it was the only time I had passed out in the chair. Spent 30 minutes in the chair 3 times a day, sometimes longer. After a week I had to start muttering things to myself in my cell so I didn’t forget who I was. The Nazi soldiers gave me the bare minimum to survive as far as water and nutrients goes. I cracked halfway through October. I gave the short scientist, Armin Zola, the list of what I would need before I was taken back to my cell after yet another time in the cell. I was given parchment and a pencil to write things down with but it kept coming in flashes.

Nights were the worst. Mouth dry from lack of water, eyes trained on an iron grate in the ceiling. I realized two weeks into my daily chair visits that I had forgotten my brother’s name. When I noticed it caused me to cry to sleep that night. So whenever I could I would mutter to myself facts I could remember starting with my name, rank, and where I was from. The list of facts got shorter every day. Somedays I remembered more than others. There were times all I could bring myself to do was hum Amazing Grace to myself to deal with the pain.

The first time I was in the lab I tried to escape. I was left with just one guard and I thought I could take him. I smashed a beaker using a shard like a knife. I ended up knocked unconscious, my hand bleeding from the self inflicted cuts caused by the makeshift weapon. From then on I was chained to the lab table and three soldiers kept watch. I wasn’t given anything to test the serum on. So I never tested unless I thought it would work because I used myself as a test subject.

I was unconscious for two days once from a failed serum. Others cause excruciating pain. Days came and went and I lost count of days but I knew it was still October. Yet a month was close to passing as November began to be discussed amongst soldiers around me. Pressure was placed on me to recreate the serum. Each day if I didn’t recreate the serum I was sent to the chair for the torturous electroshock. That is how I figured out I had been successful in a recreation. The serum, when tested, did nothing but make me drop to the lab floor in pain. I wasn’t even given time to recollect myself before being dragged off to the chair. I lasted longer in the chair than usual. I heard the instruction to increase the power. I don’t remember what happened after that.

It took me nearly half a day to recover, then as soon as I had I was back working in the lab. Suddenly I was pulled away from my work and escorted quickly back to my cell. “Neue Soldaten wurden gefangen genommen.” New soldiers have been captured. I pressed myself up against the bars for a chance, a glimpse at the soldiers being brought in.

It was silent as the Nazi Hydra soldiers dealt with the new poisoners. Suddenly two soldiers appeared with smiles on their faces. “Komm Mädchen. Zola und Schmidt wollen dich sehen.” Come girl. Zola and Schmidt want to see you. The soldiers yanked me up and practically dragged me to the room where the chair was. My body trembled involuntarily at the sight of the chair. It wasn’t me going in the chair, given someone was strapped in but given the uniform he was American. “Ah, here iz our lovely nurse. You’ve been asking for a test subject. Here you go.” Schmidt waved at the man strapped into the chair. The man lifted his head just barely and my heart went out to him. As soon as the hands left my arms I moved to the soldier in the chair. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“S’rg’nt Jam’s Barn’s,” His voice wasn’t clear but it was clear enough for me to understand what he said. The nurse turned to Zola and Schmidt. “I wasn’t done recreating the serum when you had me pulled from the lab. I will need time to work and he needs time to rest or the serum will kill him.” I tried to give him whatever comfort I could in those brief moments before we were pulled apart. His head rose just slightly and I caught a glimpse of stormy blue eyes as he was dragged out of the room.

I never got to return to my cell that night. As my eyes zoned in on the blue chemical mixture in front of me I felt a haze cloud my mind, it wasn’t abnormal to experience but I also felt like I was losing myself when it happened. Following my own written instructions I was able to continue my work. The only other thing I forced my mind to remember were two things.

I am First Lieutenant (Y/n) (L/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps. Soldier boy is Sergeant James Barnes.

The words became a mantra in the blank canvas my mind was currently in as I blindly worked by instructions of my very own that I don’t even remember writing. My body moved on auto pilot as I was taken to a crude looking examination room. In the center was soldier boy Sergeant James Barnes strapped to the table. As my mind raced to catch up with me, flashes of memories clouded my mind from when Steve Rogers got the serum, the explosion that followed, Dr. Erskine being shot. My body tensed at a passing memory of being in the chair passed through being replaced by the pain I felt giving myself the serum.

A hand pressed firmly in between my shoulder blades pushing me forward. I stumbled to the table catching myself with a hand on his arm. Wasn’t he wearing an army jacket before? My eyes landed on the serum filled syringe in my hands reminding me of what I was about to do. “First lieutenant (Y/n) (F/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps.. You are Sergeant James Barnes.. I’m sorry for what I am about to do. You’ll be okay. I’ve used it on myself. It will hurt.” My voice sounded so… robotic and monotone as I spoke to him. My hands pushing up his sleeve.

My hands worked from memory and out of second nature my mouth moved and the hymn fell from my lips. The melody of the song was the only comfort I could offer as I injected the poor man with the serum that would change his life forever. His eyes looked up at mine until the pain of the serum changing his body caused them to shut tightly. The leather restraints holding him in began to rip as he pulled against them. Discarding the empty syringe I tried to soothe him more but the second my hand touched his head I was shot with a sedative.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Steve Rogers has dressed up performing on stage like a dancing monkey to sell war bonds since he was given the serum. His first time on foreign grounds and he was performing for soldiers he should have been fighting alongside of. All to be booed off the stage by disgruntled men who just wanted to see a pretty dame.

Steve finally looked away from the rain but not quite at Peggy, “At least he’s got me doing this. Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.” Blue eyes finally met the face of Agent Carter. “And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know.” Her wording might have been a bit rude but the point got across. There was a moment of silence between the two but Steve had this look to him. “What?” Peggy inquired.

The man was drawing in the rain when a familiar face popped up. “Hello, Steve.” Peggy Carter approached him from behind, making him turn from his drawing to greet her, “Hi.” She mimed his ‘hi’ back before laying her jacket down to sit on while Steve asked, “What are you doing here?” Peggy looked at Rogers and let out a small sigh, “Officially, I’m not here at all. That was quite a performance.”

Rogers looked away disappointed that she had caught the horrible show that happened earlier. “Yeah. I uh, I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I’m used to are usually more, uh, twelve.” Steve explained looking out at the drenched ground and falling rain. “I understand you’re ‘America’s New Hope’.” Peggy states watching him. “Bond sales take a 10% bump in every state I visit.” Steve comments like a robot. “Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“You know for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines, serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted and I’m wearing tights.” Steve kept looking down at his journal then squinting out through the rain. A horn alarmed behind them as a medical vehicle slid to a stop in the mud. Medics ran from the infirmary tent to help unloaded soldiers on gurneys. “They look like they’ve been through hell.” Peggy turned back towards Rogers. “These men more than most.” Steve looked up at Peggy knowing she had more details. “Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men were there to back up an already injured fleet, they went up against him and less than 75 returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th and 34th.” Steve slowly turned his head feeling bad for the men who were lost but his attention snapped to Peggy at the mention of the divisions involved as she finished, “The rest were killed or captured.”

“The 107th?” The confirmation had him darting out into the rain, Peggy following holding her jacket over her head for coverage from the rain. The two ran all the way to the tent Colonel Phillips was sitting in signing condolence letters. “Colonel Phillips.” Steve called for the man’s attention as he approached. “Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?” The colonel responded looking up at the pair now standing in front of him. “I need the casualty list from Azzano.” The tone he used was definitely fitting for the role he plays on stage. Phillips however did not appreciate it. “You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

“I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.” Rogers responded un phased. Phillips pointed his pen at Peggy, “You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.” Steve was insistent though and again requested the information he wanted, “Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R..” “I can spell.” Phillips cut him off before muttering, “First Stark and now this.” He stood from the table and paged through the letters he just finished signing. “I have signed more of these condolence letters today that I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry. To the both of you.” Phillips looks from Rogers to Peggy and the woman knew he was referring to her friend from the 34th.”

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?” Rogers was something else, optimistic maybe. “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.” The look of disbelief that Steve sent the colonel as he spoke might have been the first red flag for Peggy Carter. “But if you know where they are, why not at least..” Phillips once again cut the man off, “They’re 30 miles behind the lines through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe.” Phillips was eyeing the spot on the map as he talked about it, even pointing the place out directly. “We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl.”

The colonels' dig at Roger’s lack of status didn’t seem to phase the man but it did fuel the plan he was formulating in his head while staring at the map, memorizing it. “I think I understand just fine.”

“Well, then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got someplace to be in 30 minutes.” The colonel walked past him giving Rogers a very clear view of the map marking out exactly where he needed to go, and where he was. “Yes, sir. I do.” Perhaps the time staring at the map was the second red flag that Peggy noticed. As her eyes flickered between him and the map as he left the tent it all clicked into place and she hurried after the taller man.

“What do you plan to do, walk to Austria?” Peg asked as she entered the tent used as the changing room. “If that’s what it takes.” Steve answered not looking up from where he was struggling with boots. “You heard the Colonel. Your friend, and mine, are most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.” Steve disagreed as he continued to get ready. “Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects..” Steve cut her off as he put on a brown leather jacket, “By the time he’s done that, it could be too late.” He snatched up his bag and shield and headed for the exit. “Steve!” Peggy called following him to the vehicle he tossed his things into. The rain had stopped leaving the sun to rapidly evaporate the water leaving puffs of smoke in the air. Steve looked at the brunette in front of him. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word.”

“Then you got to let me go.” Steve turned to get into the jeep and started the engine before Peggy was at the side. “I can do more than that.” She told him.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Peggy hadn’t lied. She got them a method of transport much faster than the jeep. Howard Stark sat in the pilot seat flying a plane with the slight chance his fiancée may still be alive. Stark was devastated when he first found out that the 34th was attacked and that only doubled when the attack at Azzano took out the 107th as well.

“The Hydra camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges.” Peggy infomed Rogers as she pointed to the map she was holding. “It’s a factory of some kind.” She gave him as much information as she could. “We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Howard called over his shoulder.

“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve called back up to the pilot. He looked back over at the woman in front of him. “You know.. You two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land.” He was worried about her getting into trouble for him but she looked at him just as worried. “And you won’t?” Steve dismissed her worries, turning his head. “Where I’m going, if anyone yells at me, I can just shoot them.” There was a small click of a loaded gun.

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” Peggy surmised. Steve turned to the shield he had been using on stage giving it a knock, “Well let's hope it’s good for something.” Steve turned back to her just as Howard called back, “Agent Carter? If we’re not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue.” Howard was teasing the agent, the smile on his face hidden from those being him. Peggy shifted in her seat choosing to ignore him and keep conversation going with Rogers. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace. We’re lucky to have him.”

Steve however was still not fully over the comment Stark made. “So, are you two… do you…” There was an awkward pause as Steve thought of the proper way to ask if they were seeing each other by reusing Stark’s words, “..Fondue?” Stark tried not to laugh from the pilot’s seat as Peggy simply shook her head and handed him a device. “This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.” Steve took a moment to look at the device now in his hand before calling up to Howard, “Are you sure this thing works?”

“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard defended seconds before gunfire hit the side of the plane. The plane shook as bullets pelted the sides, shaking the aircraft from the force. Steve stood grabbing his shield and heading towards the door. That he opened. “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy ordered yelling over the wind rushing into the plane. “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” Steve ordered back over the noise of the wind, gunfire, and the pinging of bullets on the plane.

“You can’t give me orders!” Peggy disagreed.

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” Steve looked over at her, giving her a smile that made her weak in the knees. He grabbed the goggles from his helmet, lowered them over his eyes and launched himself out of the plane. Peggy watched him fall towards the ground before the red fabric of his parachute was visible in the night sky from the flying bullets. Howard turned back as instructed by the Captain. Now all they could do was wait.

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Under My Skin: Chapter 1

Series masterlist

Word count = 4,6 k

Chapter Warnings = swearing, canon-typical violence, bad writing

Summary = You hate Poe Dameron. Simple, right?

Edit = Cross posted to AO3

Part 1 of 4 (I think)

Poe Dameron didn’t like you and you didn’t like Poe Dameron.

“Because!” You grouse to Rose as you make your way to the cantina, “he thinks he’s so much better than everyone else, no one could ever come close to his skills, and he always gets the best missions, and he’s good, but he’s not that good, he acts like he’s god's gift to women - no scratch that - to the galaxy, and he’s so arrogant!” You’re growling in frustration as you round the corner, suddenly lowering your voice as much as you can because Dameron is right there at the end of the corridor, deep in discussion with General Organa and Finn.

Rose’s only response is to whack you over the head as she walks through the swinging doors in the centre of the corridor. You’ve never been so glad you don’t have to walk past Dameron in your life. “What was that about?” You hiss as you catch up with Rose, grabbing your own tray and helping yourself to dinner. “You didn’t have to hit me in front of General Organa.” Rose snorts. “Yeah the General was the one you were worried about.”

Trays full, the two of you spot an empty booth and hurry towards it, sitting opposite each other. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You won’t shut up about Poe.” She jabs her fork at you, causing bits of potato to fall to the table. You can only gape, words escaping you momentarily.

Momentarily.

“What! I won’t - Dameron - he - he and I - urgh! - never in my life - he’s annoying!” You settle on finally, fully aware that you’re now whining. “He frustrates me!”

Rose raises an eyebrow, “Well maybe you need to work out those frustrations.” You shake your head, deciding to ignore her for now as you concentrate on eating. “You do need to get laid.”

You yelp, coughing when you try to swallow too quickly in shock. And then- “I can help with that, sweetheart.” You whip round, eyes narrowing when Dameron’s behind you, his flight suit tied around his waist, exposing his dirty vest and irritatingly strong arms. The only person who can beat him in arm wrestling is Finn - you can no longer count the amount of times he’s beaten you.

You take another scoop of dinner before talking with a full mouth. “Ok, one, I’m not your sweetheart, and two, Rose is wrong, and even if she was right, I definitely don’t need your help with-” you pause, swallow, and gesture vaguely in his general direction. “That.”

This, annoyingly, only seems to make him grin more. “That? You’re not gonna call it what it is?” You lean back, pulling your most unimpressed look onto your face, as he continues, still smirking, even having the audacity to wink at you. “Hot, animal sex.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff, turning back to your dinner. “Whatever you say, Dameron.”

“Does it make you feel better, being mean to me?” Dameron asks as he squeezes onto the small piece of bench next to you. You huff, moving up so that you’re not touching. You don’t like him, but you’re not rude. 

Ignoring his question, you deflect. “Where’s Finn? Don’t you want to sit with him?” It takes more effort than it should to sound like you’re asking out of interest, and not because you want him to go away. Which you do.

“He’s still talking to Leia.” Your eyes flick to Rose, and she knows what you’re thinking. You twist your body to face Dameron, bringing a leg up under you. “Is this about the mission?” Her voice is low as she leans across the table, forgetting about the rest of her dinner.

The last few days have been hell. Rumours have been flying around base, centered around a box full of Jedi crystals. Kyber crystals, you’d told Rose the other day, not that the name cleared anything up. You’d poked around the base’s library on your datapad when you had the odd chance, but the Jedi were now the stuff of legend, just stories told to children about ‘the good old days’.  

The rumours made things worse - you’re not sure how much of it to believe - there were so few people who were even Force sensitive but as far as you were aware there were no Jedi left. Luke Skywalker was lost, and therefore probably dead. And even if Jedi did still exist, weren’t they supposed to be the good guys? Why hadn’t they come to help fight along with the Resistance?

But Dameron decides to play dumb. “What mission?” His eyes are too wide to be innocent and it annoys you. “Finn’s talking to Leia about…” he pauses, eyes desperately searching the cantina as he tries to think of a good excuse. “The quality of the food!” Turning to you, his eyes are intense. “I know you want more chocolate pudding.” You ignore how he knows that, instead focusing on glaring at him. “Dameron do you think I’m a good pilot?”

“Look,” he turns to face you, ignoring his own food even as you continue to eat, “it’s nothing to do with your skills as a pilot.” He pauses, but you interrupt before he can give you some empty platitude. “I think it is - otherwise why am I not being included?”

“Hey, will you listen,” he turns to you, poking his finger at you for emphasis. “This mission is top-secret and the risk of the First Order finding out is high so-” This time you properly interrupt, flicking his finger out of your personal space.

“So you just decide to talk about it in the corridor by the busy cantina, where everyone and their mother will see you?”

This shuts him up.

The two of you are looking into each other's faces, inches apart. And it’s annoying because Dameron is unfortunately handsome. Why? Why is he of all people so good looking? Rose coughs obnoxiously loud, causing the two of you to break eye contact and turn to look at her. You lean back from him, trying your best to look thoroughly unimpressed as he stands, picking up his tray and when he speaks, huffing, his voice is sharper than it was before.

“Look, I only came over to say that we’re going to have a mission briefing tomorrow at 6. Ok? So, just-” He leaves, mumbling the rest of the sentence under his breath as he walks across the cantina towards Rey, leaving you with your mouth hanging open, looking and feeling like an idiot.

“Well,” you say as you turn back to Rose. “That’s why I hate him.”

“You’ve got a mission, aren’t you pleased about that?” You can tell you’re annoying her now, but you roll your eyes. “Yeah, with Dameron. He’s just going to be hanging over my shoulder and passing judgement whenever he can. I’m not getting my hopes up.”

Every time you came back from a mission Dameron was there. Always. Just waiting to tell you what you should have done, how you should have flown, how he would have done it. As though the only reason he hadn’t done it was because he was too important.

You knew you didn’t fly how most people did, it had cost you marks in your final exams at school, and it cost you a place in a higher squadron, but it was hard to find the will to change when the poster boy for the Resistance saw nothing but incompetence when he looked at you. Bastard, you couldn’t help but think as you stabbed the last of your greens, wishing it was his face.

***

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

The mission had been going so well. You’d dropped into the planet’s upper atmosphere, bypassing the planet’s security, got inside the compound, obtained the uber-secret box (your briefing hadn’t quite covered what was inside, annoyingly) and you’d been about to sneak out when you’d decided a bit more snooping was necessary.

The box had been in the centre of a library/museum set-up and even you could tell that these were rare books. So you’d told Dameron to inspect the objects while you scanned the books, pulling out a few that caught your eye.

The first warning you had been given was a blaster grazing your arm, causing you to yelp in pain, dropping the books and duck to the floor as another shot had ripped through the shelves - an inch or two above where your head had been. So a crap shot then.

Paper had fluttered down around you as you looked for Dameron. The shelves would provide good cover but unfortunately it also meant you couldn’t see your shooter. Pulling your blaster out from its holder, you aimed a couple of returning shots into the darkness at the edges of the room as you looked for Dameron.

You found him near the exit, standing over a number of droids. He’d been holding the box with one arm, the other bleeding heavily, but you’d managed to escape, tangling with another droid who’d punched you as you left the way you came, avoiding the crap shooter on your way out. You didn’t want the First Order to know who’d been there.

So now you and Dameron were walking back to the ship, cutting through undergrowth as you desperately tried to remember the way, face throbbing in pain. Dameron had fallen quiet very quickly, and you were alarmed to see how much blood he had lost so far. His face was pale and all you could think was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t’ve tried to poke around and look for other useful bits and pieces, you would have got out with no trouble.

Oh shit.

You were definitely lost now. You’d taken a gamble on the last turn and this was wrong. There should be a stream somewhere to your left which led back to the ship. Where was it? This was so wrong. And how were you going to admit this to Dameron? “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You swore under your breath.

“What’s wrong?” Dameron’s voice wasn’t right. He’d lost a lot of his power, and you turned to face him, watching as a small drop of blood fell to the floor. You don’t want to say it, you know he’s going to hold this over your head later, your first truly important mission and you’ve fucked up so bad. “I -” you hesitate, mouth open, so unwilling to say it, especially to Poe, you have to force it out. “We’re lost...I don’t know the way back.”

And...oh god, you’re not going to start crying are you? You can feel the familiar burn on the back of your eyes so you blink, looking away from him. But Dameron starts struggling, using his injured arm to try and reach down, looking for something. You move closer, grabbing his wrist and forcing him to stop moving, to stop aggravating his injury. “What are you doing?” And your voice is mean and you don’t know why but his skin is cool, cooler than it should be causing your heart to skitter out of control.

Dameron looks up into your face and his eyes are a little unfocused. Shit. “Looking for a tracker - the ship -” His voice doesn’t sound normal. But you have to be the calm one, you have to be the one in charge so you push the panic down, trying to speak normally. “Where is it? You shouldn’t be using that arm.”

“In my pocket, I -” But you’re one step ahead, unceremoniously dropping his wrist and reaching in, pulling the tracker out. A thin disc with a central button, which you press, and a red light spins around the edge before settling a direction to your left, forcing you to turn about 45 degrees.

You set off, pushing through the undergrowth and snapping branches from trees, kicking any debris out of Poe’s path as he stumbles behind you. Panic is still rising in you, you can’t be the reason the Resistance’s best pilot dies. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuckin’ motherfucker, please, please, plea-

You pause for a second, trying to get your breathing back under control, even as it skitters away from you. You glance back at Poe, who nods at you.

BB-8 is waiting back at the ship, preliminary checks before take-off having been completed. You help Poe lift into the co-pilot’s chair you’d been occupying earlier and squeezing into the pilot’s chair. You don’t remember the flight back, don’t remember dodging the planet’s security as you took off, all you remember is how pale and quiet Poe is. He watches you the whole way which would normally annoy you, but you don’t think his eyes are fully focused.

You’ve done better landings when you get back to the base, but you don’t really care, Poe’s breathing is different, you can’t stop the panic rising in you, and the second you’ve opened the door you’re yelling, voice already hoarse. “Medic! Medic! I need - I need a medic!” People swirl around you, when did they get here? But you don’t want to let go of Poe, one arm around his back, his uninjured one around your neck while you keep a tight hold of the box.

You fight as someone tries to unfurl your fingers, Poe’s weight disappearing and you’re crying now, hardly able to open your eyes. You don’t feel the sharp sting of the tranquilizer, instead blindly fighting the rising darkness inside you, unable to recognise it for what it is. Voices are all around you, muffled like you’re underwater and lights are appearing in bright spots above your head. You’re floating, falling backwards, further and further, until everything turns black.

***

The debrief was not fun.

Barely out of the medbay, you’d relayed to General Organa what had happened, how it had been your idea to stay back, how you’d got lost in the forest after, how you made a mess.

Due to your injuries, it had been just you and her, and even now, safely in your bunk, you couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than having to tell a whole command room. Sure, you’d been spared public humiliation, but at the cost of having General Organa’s full attention on your failure.

You’d pulled your curtain across your bunk, and you felt as though you might have to stay buried under your covers for at least a week to emotionally recover from the whole ordeal. The worst part of it was that General Organa hadn’t even seemed disappointed, or angry, just...like she expected it.

And Dameron was still in the medbay. It was coming up to 4 days later, but you’d maintained your distance, not sure your fragile heart could stand the pain of knowing his condition was your fault, no matter what anyone said.

You wanted to see him, to apologise, but at the same time the idea of facing him made you feel sick. It was your fault he was in the medbay, you should have prevented it. In fact, the only reason you even knew he was still in the medbay was because you assumed there would be some kind of announcement or celebration when he was better.

A knock on your door made you jump, and then frown, however the door began to open before you could respond which you supposed was kind of your fault, you should have locked it, now you were going to have to talk to someone-

And General Organa walks into the room.

You stand up so fast, you get a rush of blood to the head, your vision going black slightly at the edges. “General, I-” you start talking before you even know what you’re going to say, so shocked to see your hero in your room. Your eyes flick over to the mess of clothes you haven’t bothered to wash in the last week, tissues on the floor, half eaten snack bars and their wrappers littered around as you wished the room was a lot tidier.

“I wanted to check how you were getting on.” Her voice is soft, but still carries that familiar authority as she pulls out the chair from your desk and sits on it.

Your mind goes blank. General Organa...wanted to check...on you?

You manage to pull yourself together, sitting back down on your bed with a suddenly excellent posture. “Good, thank you General.” You can hardly look at her, it’s like she emits light, and it’s too bright, too much.

You’re hyper-aware of your every movement, this is the first time you’ve properly talked to her, you want her to like you, and oh my god she’s in your room? Her eyes never leave you, so you stare at your hands, fingers twisting in your lap. “Call me Leia.” She pauses, but it’s not enough time for the implications of that to sink in. “It’s understandable if you’re still feeling rough.” Oh stars you’re going to cry.

Your eyes are watery and you know looking down only increases the chances of them falling, but if you look up, she’ll see. “I wish I’d done things differently.” You say, and your voice sounds rough.

The room is swimming when you finally look up, but General Orga - Leia is smiling softly at you. “I think about every second of that mission and for every decision that I made, I wish, I wish I did the opposite thing.”

“Why?” The question is asked so simply, and there are so many answers, they crowd your mind. “You were successful, weren’t you?” Still you can only gape at her. Successful? Dameron is still in the medbay-

“I know what it’s like to blame yourself for a mission going sideways.” Leia continues, “But you retrieved the box, you’re both alive, Poe is healing well, the medics say the bleeding has stopped and his stomach is on the mend now.” His stomach? You frown, his stomach wasn’t injured, it was just his shoulder, but Leia mistakes your frown for further dissent.

“I know you think it was your fault because you said let’s stay behind, but what if you had found something important? And Poe agreed, didn’t he? It’s not just on you. You just have to learn when the risk is worth the reward.” With that, she stands, so you do too. “I’ll formally debrief the two of you together when Poe’s out of the medbay, but I thought you needed to know this.” You nod, unable to speak again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

It’s almost too late before you can speak again, Leia halfway out of the door, but she turns back when she hears your voice. “Thank you.” And you mean it. Leia didn’t say much, and nothing new, but she was right. The mission was technically a success. Things went wrong, but you were both alive.

Sitting back on your bed, you feel lighter, more like normal. And a part of that normality is annoyance towards a certain pilot. He was injured in his stomach? The more you think about it, the more a cold fury rises in you. Why wouldn’t he say? He was carrying that heavy box and - you let out a growl, surprisingly loud in the quiet room.

You make your way to the medbay, becoming angrier and angrier with each step. No wonder he had so much blood loss! How dare he not say anything! How could he not tell you? Did he not trust you?

You ignore the signs that tell you visiting hours are over, and maybe it’s the look in your eyes that stops any medics from reminding you as such when you march up to the front desk. “I need to see Poe Dameron, which room is he in?” You feel a tiny bit bad for being so demanding to an overworked medic, but you can’t think past how Poe Dameron lied to you.

You’re shaking as you walk to Dameron’s room, not bothering with pleasantries as you bang open the door. He’s lying in the bed, BB-8 charging in the corner and had you been calmer you would have noticed how Dameron jerked awake when you slammed his door shut. You ignore how he’s hooked up to various machines and drips, bandages covering his body.

“You were shot in the stomach?” Your voice is mean again.

Dameron just blinks groggily at you, a combination of drugs and tiredness, but you push down any pity, letting righteous anger flood your veins with fire. “What?” His voice is hoarse from misuse and sleep.

“You were shot in the stomach?” You repeat, keeping hold of that cold fury as you look down at his face. This extra minute is all Dameron needs to wake up properly and realise why you’re so upset. “No- just, just stabbed.”

“Just!” - and it’s like you’re watching yourself, no control over your actions and even to your own ears you sound hysterical, the volume of your voice rising.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You demand as he presses a button, lifting the top half of his bed up. Tears are once again pricking your eyes, but this time you will not be crying, so you wipe them away quickly, past caring.

“Because,” Dameron huffs, realising that's not a full sentence. “I don’t know - you...you had enough on your plate, I didn’t want to add to it.”

“You should have told me.” Your voice is dangerous now, your whole body thrumming with an unshakeable anger, even as you stand completely still. A strong undercurrent continues to carry you onwards in the conversation, and you know you’ll need to leave before it runs out. “You carried that box for fuck knows how long, and what? You were just hiding your injury? You just wanted to be a hero, or embarrass me?”

Dameron stays silent, glare heavy in his eyebrows. It’s too much, you want, you need answers.

“ANSWER ME!” You roar, lashing out in defence.

“I had to!” He’s shouting now too, pushing against the bed with his strong arm. “It was hard enough to snap you out of it when we were in the compound - I wasn’t going to add to it - I had to know you could fly us home!”

His words are like they punched you, a heavy exhalation, and it’s as though all the anger was tightly held in your lungs. “I flew us home.” Your voice sounds small as you take a step back. Dameron’s found the one chink in your armour again, just like he did when you first met, the one weak spot of your insecurity and smashed it to smithereens.

There’s silence in the medbay, pushing against your eardrums as though to emphasise just how the loud the two of you were. There’s a brief flicker of curiosity in the back of mind, wondering why the nurses haven’t intervened yet.

You can’t look at Dameron anymore, instead taking in the number of different machines he’s hooked up to, watching the drips, how his heart rate starts to lower as he forces himself to calm down. “So you didn’t trust me?” You don’t want the answer, but you can’t stop the words.

He takes his time answering again, but you still don’t look at him, hands playing behind your back with the hem of your jumper. “If you don’t trust me - you should have asked Leia to switch me out!” Shut up, shut up, shut up, why can’t you stop talking, you stupid-

“Maybe I should’ve!” His voice doesn’t change, there’s no difference in his heart beat, although it’s on the high side of normal, matching yours, but something changed. There’s a split in the room, a chasm separating the two of you that wasn’t there before.

“Well why didn’t you?”

“Because I felt sorry for you!” Your eyes snap up, looking at his face in terror. “I wanted to give you a chance! I didn’t think you’d fuck up like that.” If Dameron’s earlier words were a punch to your gut, these sent you sprawling. Short of an atomic blast inside you, any feeling left inside you was obliterated. Hot embarrassment crawls up your arms and you want Dameron to feel the same pain.

“Fuck you.”

The words hang there, each second an eon. Poe instantly regrets his words, knowing he’s gone too far. He opens his mouth to apologise, but the words don’t come.

Neither of you say anything, glares still spitting red-hot fire, when you suddenly want to leave. You don’t want to see Dameron’s face again, not for a long time. So you clench your jaw, throwing up your middle finger and slamming the door behind you.

***

Isolating yourself doesn’t seem quite so appealing once you’ve left the medbay, so instead you make your way to Rose’s room, grabbing a bottle of firewater from the cantina as you pass. You need a drink.

When you arrive, you’re not sure you want to talk about the recent shitstorm your life has recently become so the first words out of your mouth when Rose opens the door is- “Do you like Jannah?”

It’s a little mean of a conversation to spring on your friend, but you’re a lot of things, and blind is not one of them. You’ve seen how the two mechanics look at each other. Especially when they think the other won’t see. Holding up the bottle as a peace offering, Rose smirks at you before leaving her door open as an invitation.

Rose denies having a crush on Jannah as you work through the bottle, only conceding on the point that Jannah is very pretty. You’re probably a little too quick to agree, blaming it on the drink that’s currently making you feel like you’re floating a couple of inches above the ground.

Comfortable silence falls on the two of you as you sit there, the floor a little cold under you, leaning against Rose’s bed.

“I’ve been thinking-” Rose starts but you interrupt before she can get any further.

“Dangerous.”

Rose doesn’t dignify this with a response, instead waiting until you wave a hand at her to continue.

“We’ve got a coordinating day off next cycle, if you wanna go to Sanctuary III. They’ll have a festival then, I can’t remember which but it should be good fun.” You can tell she’s keen, so you’ll go with her, but you find it hard to inject any enthusiasm into your voice.

Rose picks up on this, sighing as she refills her glass. “Alright don’t seem too keen on the idea.”

Your shrug, not really wanting to talk about the real reason you can’t find any excitement. “Sorry. I’ll go with you. It’ll be fun.”

“What’s wrong?” Her voice is gentle, and her hand is on your arm, and it’s so reassuring, so warm, your skin sings under her palm.

You talk to your feet as you tell Rose what Dameron said. “-and he - it was horrible, Rose,” you sniffle, tears springing into your eyes again. “And I - we’ve never got on, he’s, y’know, annoying, we’re always bickering, but I just - I never thought that he actually - it’s my fault he’s injured, and maybe he does hate me and-”

You stop your tirade and for the first time, just let yourself cry and breathe for a second. Rose’s arm comes around your shoulder and you lean into it, slightly. “It’s fine - I mean I never liked him anyway, now I can just move straight into the dislike section, maybe even hate I dunno.”

“Ok you should know that that’s not healthy first of all.” Rose’s voice floats out from above your head. “Second, I’m sure he didn’t mean it, and anyway, who cares what he thinks? Leia thought you did well. And third, this is all the more reason to do something on our day off!”

You give a weak chuckle and nod. You spent the rest of the night, playing cards and chatting about lighter topics until both of your eyes start to burn and you make your way to bed.  

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Chapter 2

[sophieakatz]

Thursday Thoughts: Marvel What If’s Women Problem

Welcome back to the feminist rant!

I really didn’t intend to spend three weeks in a row writing about the Marvel animated series What If…? But I wanted to see this through.

Last week we talked about this show’s abundant use of the “fridged woman” trope. However, a show doesn’t need to kill its female characters in order to fail them.

Remember that time I made up a feminist movie test? I call it the “Want Test.” You can read the full explanation here, but here’s the summary:

This test requires that a film (or, in this case, an episode of a TV show) has at least one named female character. After watching the show, ask, “Does what the named female character want matter to the plot?” Then, score the movie based on the answer to this question.

If the answer is “Yes, what the named female character wants matters to the plot,” then give the movie a checkmark!”

If the answer is “Yes, AND this is true of multiple named female characters,” then the movie gets a check-plus. If these characters help each other get what they want, the movie gets a check-double-plus!

If the answer is “Yes, BUT her wants are an obstacle to a male character’s goal,” then the movie gets a check-minus. The woman may matter to the plot, but her importance is centered on her relationship to a male character and how much he matters to the plot. Often movies with a check-minus involve a male protagonist actively trying to stop a female character from getting what she wants; while she has an impact on the world around her, the movie isn’t rooting for the woman.

If the answer is “No, what she wants doesn’t matter,” then the movie fails the test. Give it a minus.

Okay, now let’s talk about Marvel What If. Once again, there are spoilers for the first seven episodes of this show below the cut, and some discussion of the plot points in the movies these episodes are based on.

When I compare the first seven episodes of What If to the Want Test, they each barely scrape their way to a check-minus (though after my rant last week, I’m tempted to edit my test so that a show that fridges a female character automatically fails). In summary, it does not matter what most of the named female characters want. Each episode has a single woman whose wants do affect the plot, but what she wants is always some kind of obstacle to a male character’s goal. Even when the women of What If survive the episode, the male characters’ feelings are the primary engine of the show.

As I neared the end of Episode Six, “What If… Killmonger Rescued Tony Stark?” I said to myself, “Well, at least Pepper and Shuri aren’t dead.” But then, in the last minute of the episode, Shuri and Pepper meet and state their intent to take down Killmonger. And I said to myself, “Okay, so why didn’t we get THAT episode?”

Sure, it’s cool to see two smart girls teaming up, but they don’t get to do anything! This episode repeatedly puts Pepper and Shuri down. Every time they express suspicion of Killmonger, someone contradicts them. What they want does not matter. They are obstacles to the men, and they are easily pushed aside, and so all they can do is stand in the background and watch while the boys run around and play war games.

If your named female characters only matter in the last scene of the show, then they don’t really matter. This episode wasn’t about the women at all. It was about the men killing each other and making each other sad.

*

I really don’t want to say much about the seventh episode, “What If… Thor Were an Only Child?”

What I will say is, “Why, why, WHY is Dr. Jane Foster more concerned about hurting the hot guy’s feelings than she is about how the hot guy is about to cause the end of the world?”

And I will also say, “Why does Captain Marvel need to be nice to Thor at the end of the episode after he spent the entire episode being a jackass to her?”

And I will end this section of the blog post by saying, “Frigga deserves so much better than any man in her family has ever given her.”

*

The second episode of this show, “What If… T’Challa Became a Star-Lord?” might be my favorite episode. Mainly because it’s the only one I genuinely liked while I was watching it. It was fun, and I was happy to hear Chadwick Boseman’s voice one more time. Overall, it’s a lovely tribute to both the actor and his character.

But, for me, liking this episode required ignoring a big problem: Nebula and Thanos’s relationship.

We don’t know exactly when in this timeline T’Challa met Thanos and convinced him to give up on the “murder half the universe” plan. But we do know that even before Thanos collected the Infinity Stones, he was roaming the universe slaughtering millions. We know he committed genocide against Gamora’s people the day he “adopted” her, and it’s safe to assume he did the same to Nebula’s. We know that he raised Gamora and Nebula to fight each other, and every time Nebula lost a fight, he replaced a part of her body with cybernetics, constantly torturing her.

What If never tells us that that Thanos did not abuse his daughters. It never tells us that he did not slaughter millions, including his daughters’ birth families. But it does tell us that Thanos is Nebula’s father. And he wouldn’t be her father if he hadn’t been roaming the universe killing people.

In this episode, we see an adult Nebula who seems to think her dad is annoying, but any feelings she might have about how genuinely terrible he is – feelings she was freely willing to admit in the Guardians of the Galaxy movies – go completely unmentioned.

Thanos and Nebula’s relationship is played for laughs, like they just need to get over their past and hug it out. That bothers me a lot. It’s like the show is saying that Nebula’s pain doesn’t matter. What matters is that Thanos is sad she doesn’t want to hang out with him.

I should also point out that in Avengers: Infinity War, Gamora gets fridged. Her feelings are unimportant to the plot; her stated desire to die before she can be used as a part of Thanos’s plot is mocked and discarded. When she is murdered, the moment of her death is all about how it would hurt Thanos to kill her. Gamora’s death also serves as motivation for Peter Quill to sabotage the other heroes’ efforts to stop Thanos.

Gamora is nowhere to be seen in this episode of What If. The women that Thanos abused really don’t matter here at all.

*

I’ve been putting off talking about this show’s pilot episode, “What If… Captain Carter Were the First Avenger?” This episode was… You know, it was fun, in a very similar way to how the Star Lord T’Challa episode was fun. I can’t lie and say I didn’t like seeing super buff Peggy Carter beat the crap out of Nazis. That was a lot of fun.

But the thing I couldn’t stop thinking while watching was, “This isn’t Peggy’s story. It’s Steve’s!”

Peggy Carter may have gotten the super serum in this reality, but Steve Rogers is still the main driving force of the plot. Peggy goes to Germany to save Steve’s best friend. She works with Steve’s allies, the Howling Commandoes, instead of finding her own. Steve’s issues and emotions are central to everything Peggy does; she may say in dialogue that she wants to end the war, but what we see is that Steve is her motivation. In fact, he’s everyone’s motivation – in the scene where Peggy, Bucky, Howard, and the Howling Commandoes decide to go take down Red Skull, they all go around the table and say that they’re doing it “for Steve.” Not because ending the war is the right thing to do, not because they care about the millions of people murdered and tortured by the Nazis – but because they care about Steve.

When I first heard about this show, I thought that Steve was going to die, and that would be why Captain Carter would exist. The interesting/ironic thing here is that the episode pokes at the idea of fridging Steve, but it doesn’t quite have the guts to go through with it. Everyone thinks that Steve died on the train, but then they find him in Red Skull’s castle, and he’s totally fine! Killing off Captain America would have been an interesting, powerful new direction to take the story. But this episode doesn’t seem interested in taking new directions. It seems more interested in showing how things would stay the same even if Steve didn’t get the serum, even if Peggy switched careers from secret agent to superhero, even if Bucky never became the Winter Soldier, even if Red Skull decided to open a portal to tentacle hell. Things just stay the same.

And I don’t get the point of presenting us with a show where there are “endless possibilities” if things are just going to stay the same. If Peggy Carter will still be a side character in Steve Roger’s story. If Hank Pym’s grief still matters more than Janet and Hope Van Dyne’s lives. If Thanos will still never be held accountable for abusing Gamora and Nebula. If Doctor Strange is still an arrogant jackass. If the only realities we see are ones where men get to act and feel, and women get to be plot devices.

The truth is that the Watcher just isn’t interested in showing us realities where women live and thrive in their own right. For all its emphasis on how different decisions can cause dramatic changes to reality, the creators of What If have no real investment in making different decisions in how they portray female characters. It’s just more of the same.

I’m done thinking about this show. Let’s talk about something else next week, okay?

Be good to yourself, be kind to each other, and you’ll hear from me again soon!

[dotthings]

Since yes I do remember I have a tumblr and should probably use it to express myself because I’m wordy. After witnessing stan twitter 1,345, on a platform where nuance isn’t exactly common, I have some thoughts.

First: No EP or writer from spn has ever denied Destiel exists or ever told shippers to stop seeing or stop talking about it or mocked us for seeing it in their work. The writing team (which includes several queer writers) continues to work in textual level material as well as subtext and queer coding.

Second: A majority of Destiel fandom doesn’t harass and hate on the cast/crew/writers and we can see how Destiel’s now becoming increasingly textual in intent. We’re pragmatic about the chances of openly declared confirmation. That doesn’t make it less “real.” It’s getting more and more exhausting witnessing a subset angrily shouting down their own ship and attacking the show as a whole. That isn’t how I feel about spn and Destiel and I know I’m not alone on this. I’m not invalidating their rage. I’m tired of all of Destiel fandom being blamed for the behavior of a few and I don’t think the ones who behave like that are how most Destiel shippers act or how they see the situation (which is complicated) or how most shippers feel. Some are more wary than others, without being vitriolic or close-minded about Destiel and canon. Destiel fandom is not a groupthink.

Destiel is an important part of the show. It’s actually the relationship that is my personal heart center, and I’ve been yelled at plenty just for feeling that way about it, but it’s moot, canon made me feel that, canon gave me the ample content for Dean and Cas and their relationship, canon had opportunities to remove it, to end it, and never did. Instead canon built it up and added layers and made them even closer. Their relationship has been part of the A-plot. Even if it’s not the center of the show, it’s still crucial. (When are people going to get this simple concept? Something doesn’t have to be THE center to still be greatly important). For context, I’m a fan of Team Free Will too, and the bro bond, not just Destiel, and have been watching SPN since the pilot aired.

At some point under Dabb’s tenure on SPN, the way canon handled Destiel changed, from subtext, to moments where it broke into full text in ways I could no longer unsee how seriously the writing team takes this ship. I went from calmly resigned it was never going to actually be a thing, to the hair on the back of my arms standing on end because stuff was happening, and continued to happen, and it was no longer confined entirely to subtext, even if it wasn’t consummated or loudly confirmed.

Because there’s still people who straw man this kind of discussion, let me state very clearly: you are not wrong to want more open, loud representation.

Also: there is nothing wrong with wanting Dean and Cas to kiss. Or hoping for a sex scene. I’d be delighted if SPN goes that far. But if you’re out there insisting a kiss or some other explicitly sexual gesture is the absolutely, hard line the only way it will ever “count” you are hurting other fans, you are erasing the actual queer content. If you would burn the internet down in rage because Dean and Cas gets confirmation via a hand-hold or verbal confirmation or even a 3rd party statement penny drop when they aren’t even in the room, and claim that it doesn’t “count” and it’s “not enough” while you go on the attack, that’s not supportive of the ship or the work the writers have done to give it to fans as much as they can.

There has to be room for ships that fall between “loudly openly confirmed with sex scenes” and “nothing in canon backs this ship and it’s only fanon.”

Destiel in canon has had to date more canon build-up, more material, more arcing, than some canon ships in various fandoms. Yet people still deny its validity. Why is that? Why is that?

I’m not going around claiming a ship like that is incredible representation. There’s better representation available. Maybe go support that instead of obsessively attacking SPN, the crew, the cast, and turning against your own OTP.

There has to be room for multiple choice options rather than just “malicious queerbaiters!!” to allow for ships like Destiel where it’s obvious from the canon the creatives are taking it seriously in terms of story but are being held back from taking it where they would like to go with it. We won’t know until spn is over whether Destiel is getting its loudly open confirmation and consummation or not. I’m not making you promises, I’m not claiming to have inside info, I’m not claiming I know how this will go. I’m describing to you what I can see, with my eyes, so far, in both canon, which is borne out by extra-textual comments and incidents, but the extra-textual back-up is just support for what I can see in the canon.

I’d also like to know since when is fandom wank more important than the actual canon content. When did the drama and conflicts within the parasocial relationship between the people who make the show and fans become the thing calling all the shots here while people ignore the canon.

Let’s play a game. Close your eyes. Breath deeply. Imagine SPN canon, everything playing out exactly as it has in canon up to this point, but in fandom there was never a loud group of obsessed antis pounding in your ears calling you delusional or fake fans or ruining spn for seeing it. There were never antis repeating the weirdly contradictory “this show is about FAMILY so Destiel can’t be a thing.” There were never antis twisting the canon into uncrecognizable knots so they could deny and deny and deny how much Dean and Cas care for each other even as friends, along with their phobic anti-shipping concern trolling. There were never antis supposedly on your ship team (Destiel shippers who are hurt and disappointed at the lack of loud, open confirmation, which is valid, but some turned toxic over it) telling you there’s nothing there and you’re only being baited and it’s not real and you’re delusional for seeing it and a traitor to the ship if you see anything good for Destiel in the canon. Imagine you never heard of twitter.

Imagine that.

Would you doubt what’s before your eyes? Would you deny it was valid?

[ignisnocturnalia]

Hehehe I lied, but it is here now! Had a crisis about being done with my Band director's bull and wanting a grade on something really bad, did the former and decided to simply disintegrate once Friday hit. Drifter HCs will follow this, also may I say Caiatl. That is all.

Nokris x Reader

“You are a child reaching for a flame; the Taken Queen would not have you burnt.”

You were on point during the Strange Terrain strike, but you had never thought you would run into Nokris again. Granted, you realized, his death was on the physical plain while his Throne World still stood. Considering he never directly addressed you, you assumed that he either didn’t remember you or he chose not to, as oddly disappointing as that would be. The timbre of his voice unsettled you, but it was not as wracking as Xol’s; in fact, it was rather pleasing to hear.

The proposition itself was unexpected, and against Eris’s previous warnings you stopped to listen to what the Hive heretic had to say. Trekking quietly along the broken path of the distorted realm, you stopped occasionally to stare at blights littered over walls and floating in the air to see if you could catch a glimpse of the desecrated prince. The telltale sign of Taken emerging from their portals filled the air, and you genuinely prayed that you’re next decision was a wise one. 

Your ghost was probably screaming on the inside as you placed your guns to the floor, bringing your hands into the air while staring into the gleaming eye of a Knight. Grabbing your arm roughly, it tugged you through a massive doorway leading to a room that was strikingly similar to the Court of Oryx back at the Dreadnaught. The portal at the center of the room shimmered invitingly as the bony bastard himself came out; even in death, he appeared to be in his prime.

“I see you have heeded my advice; come, hope of the Light, see the Darkness.”

His claws are cold as he grasps at your shoulders despite the solar flame surging over his arms. Feeling bold, you let your own solar light extend past your body, lying comfortably across his neck with a warm glow. As a creature who worships the Darkness facing a servant of the Light, he reasonably withdraws with a hiss at your gesture

You won’t say it out loud because he obviously carries himself with extreme pride, but you can’t help but feel bad for him. How can one person be an exiled son, heretic, servant, and now puppet?

“I won’t serve Savathûn. But I think I wouldn't mind spending time with you.” Before he can question you, you are promptly pulled from the realm by Eris.

Cue Vanguard interrogation once you return to the Tower. The talk is so egregiously long you make a move that would make Cayde damn proud: “GuArDiAn, We’Re NoT yEt FiNiShEd WiTh ThIs DiScUsSiOn!” Hopefully your shining reputation will save you from any dire repercussions...

Tracing your steps back to where you first met, you look around suspiciously following the lack of noise inside the Hive breeding grounds. You had cut your comm ages ago, the constant ping of Commander Zavala’s hailing grating your ears. The ground beneath your feet crunched wetly with every step, and distantly you heard the first Hive screech. Turning in a guess to the source of the sound, you set off in a quick pace, gun in your hand.

Upon entering a new chamber, you froze in surprise as you saw Nokris lifting a Knight by the throat. Taken magic pooled in his palm and raced over the armor of the smaller Hive, the bone turning black and a bright white glow shimmering across its legs. Still gripping the soldier, Nokris slowly angled his head to look down at you.

“Little. Light.” Dropping the Knight with no grace, his imposing form closed in on you with haste. Before you could take a step back, his claws came up to close around your jaw and upper neck. The rough of his talons dug into your armor, and for a moment you worried he would pop off your helmet and let your blood boil throughout your body in the harsh atmosphere. Instead, he pulled you closer to his face and brought up his free hand to grasp your forearm.

Nokris easily dwarfed you; even if you stood on your own shoulders you wouldn’t be taller than him. Passively, your thighs rubbed against each other at the realization. A detail he decided he would catch. Teasing mirth danced in his three eyes, hidden malice swimming just behind small organs. Internally, you were probably going to pop your helmet off yourself if you got kink shamed by a Hive prince of all things. 

You squeaked quietly in surprise as he lifted you off the ground, the hand on your lower face readjusting to your hip. His hand, quite literally, engulfed your midsection as he brought you closer to him for inspection. This close, you could see every imperfection on his face. Second hand leaving your arm, you shivered as the prince ran a digit up the side of your leg and continued his way up, stopping thoughtfully at the junction of your jaw.

Staring into the glowing green embers of his eyes, there was no mistaking the murderous glint in them. At the same time, curiosity had made its home among his more dangerous faculties.

"You found me once, you came to me twice. Find me again, at the other side in the field of ash under the dark tower.” Letting you to the floor, Nokris turned his back and departed to Traveler knows where through the portal with the long forgotten Knight. Sinking to your knees in stunned silence, you looked down as a nearly imperceptible squeal broke the quiet. In front of you, was a Hive worm.

“No.” Before you could even speak, your Ghost gave its earful. 

“I can’t not take it! I probably need it to find him. Either way, I told you one of these worms would be coming home eventually, look at its wittle face.” Your Ghost made gagging noises as you fawned over the wriggling creature you held between your hands. Tucking the three eyed larva under your arm, you set out to find the way back out.

____________________________________________

The next week felt like hell. The worm continued to get bigger with every mission you went on and keeping it a secret from the Vanguard was close to impossible. You had been wracking your brain for the answer to his riddle, and to be completely honest, it made you feel inadequate that you couldn’t figure it out. You knew the other side meant the Ascendant Realm, but what was the dark tower? Where was the field of ash? You had initially thought it was at Skywatch, what with the Hive ship jutting out of the ground and the small pile of chitin inside the cave not too far away, but there wasn’t enough ash for it to be a field, nor was it under the ship point.

It wasn’t until a light snow dusted the Tower one evening that it all clicked. He didn’t mean ash ash. He meant snow! 

In a rush to the hangar, you waved a hasty goodbye to Holliday and transmatted into your ship, pulling out a layer of blankets to reveal your now cat sized worm. The grub squeed and reached its head up to your palm, crawling sluggishly into your hands. Holding the worm to your chest, you settled down in the pilot ship and gave your Ghost to plot a course. There was only one place on Earth constantly coated in snow with a structure that could be considered a dark tower.

“Ghost, set course for the Plaguelands. He’s at the Doomed Sea.”

You hadn’t been to the ravaged lands since the Siva Crisis; the whole territory gave you heebie jeebies. And yet, you were returning because one of humanity’s imminent threats wanted a chat that, realistically, ended with your head rolling on the floor.

The closer you got to your destination, the more restless the worm in your arms got. In fact, you could swear it was whispering something. Your skin crawled for a moment as you felt the phantom brush of his claw up your leg.

The moment your feet touched the ground, the world around you stuttered as the colors faded into grayscale, giving way to the Ascendant landscape. Below you, there was no mistaking the keen whispers of the worm. Its words were encouraging in a macabre way, praise and blatant lies; speaking of how well you fed it, talents being wasted on a god that heeds you not, urging you towards the ominous building looming over the shoreline.

Dust swept across at a rapid pace, as usual, in the warped realm. Coming up to the alcove, you saw him with his back turned to you. In a smooth turn, he faced you at last. Beautiful, blazing emeralds.

Relationship HCs

His idea of a relationship has wildly different parameters than any normal human would put up with

No matter where you are, or what you're doing, you can feel him at the back of your mind like a fog; it's a bit disconcerting to hear him talk in your head at first, but it becomes normal and he's actually quite helpful when you're out on missions

He expects you to help him study thanatonautics since you can die and be brought back within moments, but that's up to if you have enough charisma to convince your Ghost to let your bone boyfriend crush your skull repeatedly to see what you can learn about death

The relationship feels more like a symbiotic one rather than a romantic one, but you occassionally catch him practicing human gestures you've seen couples perform in public if he's feeling particularly good on a day

You're probably the only person who listens to him talk about all of his schtick and is able to give viable feedback; he is more thankful than he will let on about this fact

He does not like it when you try blocking him off from your thoughts and will demand to know everything you've done in the day when you see him again. In his perspective, he thinks you're trying to leave him behind like everyone else has

Will not handhold, because his hand can literally fit around your torso and because he thinks it's weird. He will, however, carry you places if you're going the same direction

He also thinks kissing is weird, but will (surprisingly!) actually let you give him kisses on his teeth; the sensation of soft flesh on his cold bones is unusual, but something he finds utterly riveting. Not that he'd let you know

Also doesn't like the amount of straight barbarity you inflict on the battlefield, but can appreciate your efficiency with your job; this is him silently worrying about your safety but refusing to acknowledge his crush on the flame throwing ape

His communication regarding affection is terrible, and if you couldn't tell shame on you. His favorite thing about you, that you will never hear from him or anyone else, is your face. He likes the way it changes into different expressions, the life in your eyes, and your lips because Hive physically cannot emote as expressively as humans do; you are an open book he has yet to read, adding new pages everyday

Nsfw 👁👄👁

First off, however you get the size difference to work, congratulations. His height over you is something he enjoys immensely when you two get into it, and it goes without saying he also likes how you "hug" him

He will fuck anywhere, literally anywhere. The floor? Yes. Against the wall? Yes. Hope you're somewhat of an exhibitionist, because he is not ashamed if any of his or Savathûn's troops walk in on you and will keep going

He bites a lot, and is not afraid to make you bleed because your Ghost can just patch you right up

Likewise, he will scratch you everywhere but he does stop to play with the softer spots

He is rough and fast, going after his own release rather than yours; however, he has high stamina so chances are you'll be overstimulated before he finishes

Absolutely a dom, he will not meet in the middle about anything of sexual nature

If you don't actively fight for your life during his build up, he will take that as the go ahead. He may be a Hive heretic, but he has standards

You don't really have the opportunity to find his sensitive spots as he usually restrains your arms, holding them above your head or pinning them down at your sides

He rarely makes actual noises, but he does hiss lowly whenever he makes particularly hard thrusts

He knows that copulation won't result in little Hive/Human hybrids running around with his blood in their veins, so 9 times out of 10 he will hilt himself and come inside you

Fluff

Uhhh, a w k w a r d

Anything that's fluffy is strictly delivered by you, and occasionally returned by Nokris since he doesn't get the point of such pleasantries

If you're fast enough, he will never get upset if you can sneak up on him for a smooch

Whatever he is doing, if you are available he much prefers having you by his side to have an extra set of eyes to help him observe (at least that's what he says)

Since his physical marks are healed quickly, he gifts you odds and ends from old planets his people have pillaged and little items you can wear on noticeable places

Hides it very well, but is extremely thrilled when you come to him when you want to do or learn something new

When you're particularly frustrated by something, he will comb his claws through your hair to his best abilities

Whenever you're with him, his demeanor is typically calmer; Savathûn's presence and influence over him is highly diminished in the face of your Light

The one thing he will willingly do with you that's remotely romantic is stargazing; not because of the romantic element, oh no, but because he wants to catalogue any changes and is very invested in teaching you about space faring

Has nicknames for you like Little Light or >Insert any game seal<

[softboywriting]

The Two Times You Ended Up In His Room, And The One Time He Ended Up In Yours | Poe Dameron

Summary: You and Poe are both x-wing pilots and you have both been mutually pining for each other for a long while. Things finally come to a head when you end up in his room one night on accident. [tw: PTSD discussion] [Set before films? but non specific] [established friendship] [mutual pining] [fluff] [established nickname]

Word Count: 5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

The first time you end up in Poe's room it's an accident. It is well past midnight and you're trying to avoid the guard who always flirts with you. He's really creepy and you just want to go for a walk around base to clear your head. Things have been tense and you just want a moment to breathe. Unfortunately you have absolutely no luck and you run into the aforementioned guard. His name is Karik. How could you forget, he tells you every single time you see him.

You turn down a hall toward the command center and there he is. He raises his hand and greets you like an old friend and you do nothing of the sort in return. Instead you turn around and go to the closest door, scan your all access ID and go in. You have no idea who to expect inside but you don't care. Explaining your issue will be easier to deal with than Karik.

In the low light of the bedroom you can make out an orange flight suit in the corner, a body on the bed with their back to you and a droid in the corner powered down. The droid is the dead giveaway. It's BB8. That means the man on the bed is Poe Dameron.

As if you had said his name out loud, he rolls over and flips on a small wall lamp beside the bed. He's topless, hair a dark curly mess, the gold chain with small ID tags he always wears glints in the light. Stars above, he is a sight to see. "Hello?" He asks sleepily, rubbing his eyes and making sure you're actually there. "Jumper is that you?"

Jumper. The nickname you earned from the x-wing pilots just over a year ago when your x-wing was going down and you emergency evacuated on a planet you had no knowledge of. You knew two things. Die in a fiery crash with the x-wing or possibly survive the fall on to the unknown planet and keep fighting with the resistance, but also possibly die upon impact. Obviously you survived. Broken and battered you landed in quicksand. It was Poe who rescued you only minutes after you landed. He had seen the x-wing go down and went to find you, or better yet, your body to bring back your ID tags. When he found you alive he was shocked. If he hadn't come after you, you'd have died in that quicksand, unable to move and sinking slowly. Truly you owe this man your life.

"Yeah, hey Poe." You chuckle nervously. Maybe explaining your sudden intrusion wouldn't be easier than dealing with Karik. Because of course it's Poe and he's your friend, and of course he's your commander too but on top of all of that you've got a massive crush on him. Like, you’re basically in love with him and he has no idea. "I-... was out for a walk."

"A walk?" He sits up and the blankets pool at his hips. "A walk into people's bedrooms?"

"Yes, no! No! I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk around base. There's this guy, a guard or something, he always tries to flirt with me and it makes me uncomfortable. Anyway I saw him and I just went into the closest room to avoid him."

"Oh. That's horrible, have you told him you're not interested?" Poe slides over on his bed toward the edge and adjusts the blankets. "Have you talked to anyone about it?"

You sigh heavily. "I've told him I'm not interested of course. I haven't brought it to anyone's attention because he isn't like...I don’t know?"

"It's unwanted attention. He's harassing you. Tell me who it is and I'll talk to them tomorrow."

"I don't want to start trouble."

Poe flips his blanket back. "I won't have anyone on this base getting harassed, let alone one of my best pilots."

"I-" your voice catches as you realize he's just given you a major compliment. One of his best pilots? Coming from Poe Dameron, the Poe Dameron? Your heart is going to explode. "Thank you," you manage to whisper while your brain and heart go a thousand miles a minute.

He chuckles softly, as if the compliment were nothing. "You know we have a recon mission tomorrow. You need to get some sleep. Should I walk you back to your room?"

"I can't ask that of you. I already woke you up and barged in your bedroom."

"It's no problem. I'm offering." Poe pulls back his blanket completely and slides off the bed, stretching as he stands. His black jogging pants hang low on his hips and you force yourself to look at BB8 in the corner. "Come on, Jumper. I need my pilots rested before they get behind the controls."

You nod and he opens the door, ushering you into the bright hallway. Karik is nowhere in sight and you're glad. It would be painfully obvious he was the one if he were lingering outside the door. "I think I'll be fine. You can go back to sleep Poe."

"No, I wanna make sure you get to your room unbothered." He runs a hand over his hair and scratches his side. It's hotter than it has any right to be. He's just being a human and you can't get your head out of the clouds. "You're in South Central quarters right?"

"Y-yeah? How'd you know?"

"I visited every day when you were laid up after your crash. Remember?"

"Oh yeah, right, duh." You shake your head and rub your neck. The scar there from the operation they did to reconstruct your shoulder is still raised. Your stomach churns as you think about how much of your body is scared from that crash. You're still alive though, and that's what matters.

Poe lays a hand on your cheek and fans his fingers out over your neck. "You still with me?"

"What?" You snap out of your trip down memory lane and look to the man in front of you. "Sorry."

"I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."

"No, no it's fine."

"Did you ever go to therapy for that or anything? It takes a toll on a person when they get that close to death." Poe slides his hand down to your shoulder. "I'm not saying anything is wrong with you because there isn't, I just want to make sure you're alright."

You smile softly. "Yes, I've seen someone, I’m still seeing someone actually. I promise I'm not going to crash anymore x-wings or let you down on a mission because I'm in my head."

"I don't care if you let me down or destroy a hundred x-wings. I care about your health, about you as a person not as just some pilot on my team. I never wanna pull you from the brink of death again but I'd do it over and over if I must, just to see you smile and fist bump me before you get in your x-wing again."

"T-thank you Poe." You swallow back the surge of emotion that courses through you. "I haven't- I don't really talk about it outside of therapy y'know?"

"You can talk about it any time with me. It's okay. I've been there and it's a dark place to come back from." He wraps his arm around you and pulls you into a hug. "You're not alone."

You bring your hands up and grip his back gently. It's warm, soft and smooth to the touch. He must use quality body wash. "Sorry I woke you up and now I'm like this."

"There's a time for everything. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Does the name Jumper upset you? I guess I didn't think of it until now."

"No, it's like a badge of honor. It's alright I don't mind."

"Okay good." He ruffles your hair and you swat at his hand. "You need to go to bed. Like I said, I don't need a sleepy pilot tomorrow."

"Yeah okay, Dad."

Poe smirks and folds his arms over his chest. "Dad? Or do you mean Daddy?"

Your jaw drops as you realize what he is implying. "Oh disgusting. You're sick Dameron. You're sick."

He laughs raucously, leaning on the wall as he catches his breath. "Oh man, your face was just priceless. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm joking. I'm not into that at all."

"Oh my- fuck Poe you are terrible!"

"I've been called worse honey." He pats your back and pushes you forward gently. "Seriously though, as much as I'd love to stay up all night with you, we both need some sleep. Let's get you to bed so I can get some sleep too."

__________________

Two days later you wake up from a nightmare in a cold sweat. You had gone down again, your x-wing careening to the surface of a planet you're unfamiliar with. This time you didn't jump out, trapped by your seat belt straps and you crashed with it. Everything felt so real and the moment you made impact you sat bolt upright in bed gasping for air. It's been over a year since the crash, you haven't had a dream like this in forever. You remember what Poe said, that you could go talk to him anytime. It's well into the early hours of the morning and you feel bad waking him up again, but you need something solid, something real. There are no missions for a few days so he can catch up on sleep tomorrow or something.

You put on your slippers and head out into the hall. You pass a few of the hangar crew, most likely the night shift, on your way down Poe's hallway. At his door you scan your ID and it slides open, allowing you to step in and hit the close button.

Poe stirs, rolling over in bed and looking at you. "Jumper? That you again?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

"No, not at all. Here." He scoots over and pulls the blanket back. "Get in."

"I don't know if that's appropriate?"

"Appropriate? What is this grade school academy? We're adults and you're my friend and co pilot. I think you're allowed to get in my bed. Do you want me to make it an order?"

"No," you laugh softly at how ridiculous it sounds. You crawl under the blanket and snuggle down against the mattress. It smells like him, warm and rich almost like sandalwood and spices. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I just didn't want to be alone."

"Nightmare?" He asks, voice soft and deep in your ear. He's so close you're torn between being comfortable and being nervous. "Tell me about it?"

"I was going down in an x-wing and I couldn't evac because I was stuck and I was so scared." Your chest tightens and you take a heavy breath. "I was so scared of dying Poe. I shouldn't be, I know the risk I take everytime I get behind the controls. But I was so fucking scared I didn't want to die like that, I didn't want to..." Your voice breaks completely as a sob wracks your body. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Poe takes your hand and brings it up to kiss your knuckles. It makes your heart ache and everything feels surreal. You're a mess of emotions. He lets you cry it out, waits to speak until you've settled yourself down enough to breathe normally. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Mmmhmm."

"I get scared too. The first time I almost died I ended up in a sand dune alone with a cut on my head and a broken arm. I think I was eighteen. If some salvagers hadn't found me by tracking my downed x-wing, I'd have died of starvation and dehydration. I didn't know where I was or how to get back to civilization. I think about that flight every time something happens to my ship and my controls go dark for a moment. I had nightmares every night for two years. I still get them from time to time."

"Oh. I didn't know that happened to you."

"Mmm. I've been in a lot of dangerous situations and I'm sure I will be in more in the future. Being afraid of dying doesn't make you weak, it makes you human. Unfortunately PTSD is a very real side effect of traumatic events and we've been through a lot. I still go to therapy once a month because coping is hard."

You nod and squeeze his hand in yours. "Thanks for letting me stay in here for a bit. I just wanted to feel something real, to know the dream was just a dream."

"I understand. You're welcome to sleep with me if you want. I have to be up in a few hours to meet with Leia, but you can stay as long as you like."

You chuckle softly and wipe your face. You feel a lot better having cried it out. You're feeling a lot less scared of dying and being weak and a lot more giddy and anxious about being this intimate with Poe. "Is Poe Dameron asking me to sleep with him?"

"Only if you say yes."

"Mmm, only if you keep it above the waist." You say teasingly.

Next thing you know Poe is leaning over you. His hand slides into your hair, turning your face to him. In the dark room so you can't see him clearly when he is this close and your breathing stops. Is this happening? Is he actually making a move?

"P-Poe?"

"Above the waist." He strokes his thumb over your cheek. "That's the only stipulation?"

"For sleeping? Or you mean for-"

"I do."

A flush rises in your chest and you can feel your cheeks get warm just before the rest of your body floods with heat. "I didn't know you felt that way about me."

He chuckles softly and leans his forehead against yours. "Jumper, you're all I've wanted since the day I pulled you from the quicksand. I knew when I saw you almost ripped from my life, I needed you. You're funny, smart, quick, and a damn good pilot." He bumps his nose against yours and you let out a shaky breath. "I don't let just anyone in my room late at night, and I sure as hell don't share my bed with just anyone either."

"I can't believe...I was just teasing but- I've always wanted you t-"

He presses his lips to yours and you melt. Your body feels as if it completely dissolves, from your bones to your skin. You feel like putty held together by some fragile and unknown force, doomed to ooze out of your form at any second. He's burning up, body flush to you as he works his lips against yours ever so gently. It's even better than you imagined, he's so soft and warm, a gentle lover, and your heart stops as you think about how this can't be real. This has to be a dream. You're still in your room. This cannot be happening.

"Hey, you alright?" He murmurs, stroking some hair off of your face. "Did I read this wrong?"

"It's a dream. You're not real." Your chest swells with crushing sadness and you can't stop the tears that spill over the corners of your eyes. "This isn't happening. I'm going to wake up now."

Poe lets out a soft laugh. "Sweetheart you are awake." He leans over you and turns on the wall lamp. The room is flooded with a yellow glow and you see him, face to face. "See? I'm right here?"

You reach up and touch his cheek, the light stubble scratches against your fingertips. His loving eyes droop, a dead give away that he enjoys your touch. But why? Why would he wait so long? Why would he never say anything? You splay your hand flat on his cheek and rub your palm along the scratchy short hairs, thumb bumping his lower lip. "Why now?"

"Because I finally had an inkling that you were just as interested as I was. You're hard to read most of the time. I understand that though. You're private with your feelings and I'm your commander. I don't blame you for not flinging yourself at me. I've not been exactly forthcoming either, as I didn't want to be inappropriate as a person of authority."

"Right...but what is proving to me that this isn't a dream?"

"Well would a dream bite your shoulder?" He drops his face to your skin and lets out a hot breath over it.

"Maybe?"

"Would you feel it if it wasn't real?"

"I don't know."

Poe sighs heavily, forehead pressing to your shoulder. "This is not a dream. I swear. Do you want to get up? Go talk to someone else? Maybe fly the x-wings around a bit?"

"No. I want to sleep. You said you need to sleep too because you have a meeting with Leia early in the morning. Maybe if I fall asleep I'll wake up if it's a dream."  

"It's not a dream." He leans over and flips off the light before he drops his weight to the bed beside you. "You'll see."

_____________________

Morning comes and you wake up to bright light pouring in through the small window beside the bed. Of course Poe has a good room with a window. Most of the base sleeping quarters have no windows and are very small. His is nice enough, definitely more spacious than a lot of the rooms you've been in. His bed is tucked in the corner, there's a bedside table, a rod built into the wall for clothes, a small three drawer dresser behind the door and a little indent on the wall the bed is against for storage where BB8 stays. He doesn't have much in the way of personal items on display. Only a few hygiene essentials in a basket on the dresser and a small box that looks like it might hold a piece of jewelry. There is a photo frame too, and it looks like a picture of the x-wing fighters.

Last night wasn't a dream, that much is obvious. You're in Poe's room and he is gone. You debate turning over and going back to sleep, or going out to get breakfast at the mess hall. Your stomach makes the decision and it says mess hall as soon as possible.

In the mess hall you take a seat with some of the other pilots. You know them well enough, a few of them you would call friends. You've never been one to be too social because in this fight, you lose too many people. One of the few people you call a friend is Vivi. She is a bomber pilot, knows the in and out of a bomber like the back of her hand. She's a bit of a gossip but she has been here with you since the day you arrived.

"Hey hey, how's it going?" Vivi asks as you place your tray in front of you.

"Good. I've got a few days off. I'm glad just to recoup."

"Got anything special in mind?" She asks with a little smirk.

You shrug and poke at the jellied fruit you've got on the plate. "Sleeping? Finding a place to take a hot bath. I swear I've got arthritis and I'm only twenty five."

"Mmm probably because you were a shattered heap of bones when Dameron found you. That shit doesn't heal back right y'know?"

"Mmm yeah probably."

"Yeah...so how long have you and Dameron been a couple?"

You nearly choke on your coffee and quickly grab your napkin to clean up your face. How in the galaxy did she know you and Poe spent any time together outside missions? "Excuse me?"

"I said what I said. I heard from Nupe that Karik told him that he saw you go into Dameron's room the other night, like well into the night too. I also heard that Trey and Garin saw you in the hall going to Dameron's room last night. So, how long?"

"It's not like that. Karik is the one who is obsessed with me, remember? His rumors are invalid. I was out for a walk because I couldn't sleep and I just ducked into a room to avoid him. It happened to be Poe's room. There is nothing going on."

Vivi chuffs. "So what about last night?"

"I went to talk to him about the crash. I've been having a hard time lately and- y'know what? I don't owe you an explanation." You stab a little harshly at your scrambled eggs and bring them to your mouth. You don't owe anyone an explanation about why you've been to Poe's room. Why does it matter? He's your friend and co-pilot. That's all anyone needs to know. So what if you kissed last night. You're still not sure it wasn't a dream. Sure you woke up in his room but that doesn't mean anything...maybe.

Vivi stays quiet, realizing she has crossed a line she wasn't meant to cross. The two of you eat in silence while the rest of the mess hall go about their own conversations. It's not until you're ready to take your tray to the wash station that Vivi speaks again. "I'm sorry I pushed you. I think you'd make a good couple. I just thought- well the way Dameron looks at you I thought something was definitely going on."

"The way he- what?"

"You don't know? He looks at you like you're the most incredible person he's ever seen, literally after every mission he gawks like a proud parent watching their kid win a race." She laughs softly to herself. "He is so in love with you and you have no idea do you?"

"Wait- last night...fuck. I have to talk to him."

"He's still at the command center with Leia and the others last I knew."

You pick up your tray and head for the wash station, passing it off to the droid there as you head out. You're starting to think last night was not a dream after all. If not, you've gotta talk to Poe as soon as possible. If rumor spreads that you're hooking up or sneaking around, whatever, you want to make sure that it doesn't affect either of you. You want a solid definition of your relationship no matter what it may be.

As you turn down the hall to the command center you run into Karik. The absolute last person you want to deal with right now. He's standing guard outside the command center, posted most likely, and you've got to get past him to get to Poe. As if the Galaxy hasn't given you enough to deal with in your life.

"Hey Jumper, where are you headed?" Karik smiles, arms folded over his chest to make himself seem bigger. It's like a bird, puffing itself up for first impressions on a mate.

"I've business in the command center."

"Do you? I don't have any orders to allow you in."

You roll your eyes and look to the doors beyond that open to reveal the internal workings of the command center. You make eye contact with Poe for a moment before the doors close again. "Why don't you double check?"

"I know my job. How about you? Do you know yours?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Karik shrugs and gives a rude smirk. "Nothing. Just don't know what a pilot would think they need to be in the command center for. You're not a commander or a sergeant."

"What's your problem Karik?"

"I don't have a problem."

"Really? Because you are acting like an asshole right now and if my memory serves me right you've never been one before."

"People change."

You scoff and smile to yourself. This is absolutely about you and Poe. He's blocking you because he's jealous. "You-"

"Jumper, hey you came to meet me?" Poe says as he jogs down the short hall behind Karik that leads to the command center. He stops and lays his hand on your shoulder, smiling softly.

"Of course, I was hoping we could talk soon. I didn't realize your meeting would go so long today."

Poe looks back at the closed doors and runs a hand over his hair. "We're just about finished. Did you get breakfast?"

"Yeah just came from there."

"Damn I was hoping to get something with you. I'm starving in here."

You look to Karik and then back to Poe and smile oh so sweetly. "I can grab you something before they switch over to lunch. Meet me in my room when you're done?"

"Sure. I'll be wrapping up quickly." Poe moves his hand from your shoulder to your neck and does a soft little cradle of your jaw before pulling his hand away. "You're such a sweetheart. I'll meet you there soon."

Warmth floods your body and grips your heart. So tender and loving. You're not sure if you're ready for that side of Poe yet. You glance at Karik and he is staring straight ahead, an unmistakable scowl of jealousy on his face. Good, maybe now he will leave you alone.

_____________________

"So Karik is the one who bothers you isn't he?" Poe asks, stretching his legs out in front of him. The two of you are in your room, wanting to talk in private from the rest of the base who are clearly very interested in your relationship. "I could sense he was uncomfortable with me touching you."

"Yeah, he's moving on though I think. I don't know." You pick at the bread you've brought to snack on while Poe finishes his jelly on toast. "I wanted to ask you about last night."

Poe looks over and you can read his expression as plain as day. He looks nervous, concerned that he has wronged you. "Yeah?"

"It wasn't a dream right?"

"No, it definitely was not. Are you uncomfortable?"

"No. No, I'm not uncomfortable with what happened. I guess I'm coming to terms? It still feels like a dream, like it feels hazy because I was so tired. Do you really actually like me like that?"

"Yes. I really like you." He chuckles and leans his head on your shoulder. "Jumper, you're the most amazing pilot I've ever seen and you're so incredibly beautiful without even trying. I don't know why I have waited so long to make a move. I suppose I was afraid I wasn't good enough."

"Not good enough? You're Poe fuckin' Dameron. You're the greatest pilot the resistance has ever seen, shit, that some of the Galaxy has ever seen. You're sweet and kind and you're so determined and dedicated. Poe, you're a rarity and any woman who gets to be romantically involved with you is so lucky."

Poe lifts his head and puts his arm around you. "I suppose you've hit the jackpot then."

"Me? Why?"

"Because I want to ask you out, Jumper. Be my girlfriend."

"Wh- we haven't even gone on a date Poe! How do you even know you want to date me let alone actually be in a relationship with me? This is a bit fast don't you think?"

"I know we have chemistry through the roof when we are together in the cockpit of a ship. We've got an undeniable connection when we are fighting side by side in x-wings and even more of one when we see each other on the ground. There is no way you don't feel that when we're together."

You smile to yourself. Of course you noticed all these things. They're why you've got such a crush on him. You and him have an unspoken connection that puts you on the same wavelength when you're near each other. You always thought maybe it was because he's such a good pilot that you just vibed with him. Two birds of a feather type deal. But it's deeper than that. He evokes a deep comfort, a sense of home and family that you no longer have. By the stars you never realized you are basically in love with him.

"Jumper?" He murmurs, hand cradling your jaw and turning your face to him. "Are you alright?"

"I think I'm in love with you." You mumble softly, eyes focusing in and connecting with his.

Poe smiles and lets out a laugh. "And I'm the one moving fast?"

"Shut up." You grab his face and pull him in for a kiss. He immediately melts into your grasp, reaching for your face and grinning into your lips. "You taste like jelly," you giggle as he pulls back and leans his forehead against yours.

Poe pulls you against his chest and you wrap your arms around him. "So is this a yes to being my girlfriend?"

"Yes. I'd love to date you Poe Dameron."

"Good." He presses a kiss to your head. "Because I don't know if I could keep pining after you."

"Pining? Oh please."

"Hush." He ruffles your hair and falls back on the bed, pulling you back with him. "Let me be the romantic I was born to be."

"I'm excited to meet this side of you."

He kisses along your jaw and hums. "I'm excited to show it." ______________________

end

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Header image by delicate-venus

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

[i-know-my-value-darling]

Supernatural stars reflect on the show's undying legacy

Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, and Misha Collins discuss 15 years of fantasy, family, and flannel. 

"We only get one shot at this." Sam and Dean Winchester are surrounded. The monster-hunting brothers are standing on the edge of a cliff. They look to Castiel, their brother in arms — or is it wings? — but even he can’t help. One move in the wrong direction could ruin everything. After years of fighting demons, going toe-to- toe with Satan himself, and saving the world multiple times, they once again find themselves in a position of having to perform under pressure. But this situation is unlike anything they’ve ever dealt with before. All eyes are on them as they have one shot…at getting the perfect picture.

It’s a dry, hot August day in Malibu — when people were still allowed to gather outside — as Supernatural stars Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and Misha Collins prepare for the last setup of their final Entertainment Weekly cover shoot. With a bottle of champagne in each of their hands, Ackles once again reminds them they get “one shot” to do this right. But if their characters can shoulder the weight of the world, surely these three can handle a photo. Read the whole story below

The champagne soaking is meant to be a celebration of 15 years, of making television history. Supernatural, the story of two brothers destined to save the world, is the longest-running genre show in the history of American broadcast television. (So old, the first three seasons shot on this thing called film.) What started as an underdog story, living its first few years on the verge of cancellation, has become an institution, a milestone to which other shows aspire. Supernatural not only survived the move from The WB to The CW after its first season — it’s now the final WB show left standing — but became the backbone of the now highly successful CW network. Over the years, the sci-fi series has aired on every weeknight, helping to launch shows including Arrow and The Vampire Diaries. The network moved it one final time, most recently, to Mondays, to help Roswell, New Mexico expand its audience. “Supernatural is a major link to many of the shows that we have successfully built to market,” The CW’s chairman and CEO Mark Pedowitz says. “Almost every one of our shows has had it as a lead-out or a lead-in.”

And to think, it all started as a promise to bring horror to television. After Supernatural creator Eric Kripke had finished working with Warner Bros. on 2003’s Tarzan series, he pitched the idea of a reporter who travels around hunting urban legends. As he puts it, it was a Kolchak: The Night Stalker rip-off. But when he realized the story would benefit from having brothers at its core, he started writing. “At the time, The Ring and The Grudge were huge hits in theaters,” Kripke remembers. “We said, ‘We’re going to take that experience and we’re going to put it on TV,’ and the initial goal was to be scary.” After Warner Bros. passed on his first, what he calls “uptight,” draft, Kripke had to reassess the kind of show he was creating. “I canceled all my Christmas plans and wrote that second draft in three weeks,” he says. “That was when the show got its sense of humor, because I was locked alone, over winter break, in my office. I couldn’t do anything fun, so I started entertaining myself.”

The show was still scary, but it was also funny and, over the years, would continue to evolve. Sure, you could say it’s a little bit X-Files — in its early days, the show often used the line “The X-Files meets Route 66” — and there were definite Star Wars influences (Sam and Dean were originally based on Luke Skywalker and Han Solo). But no combination of pop culture is going to perfectly describe Supernatural because the show has managed to do something remarkably rare in the age of peak TV, where audiences are so overwhelmed with content that an original idea seems foreign: It’s created a truly one-of- a-kind experience.

For starters, it’s a show about two flannel-wearing, beer-loving, blue-collar dudes from Kansas who for a good chunk of their lives traveled from cheap motel to cheap motel, paying for gas and greasy diner food with a mix of fake credit cards and money they earned scamming people at the pool table. “Almost all television is about rich people or, at the very least, middle-class people,” co-showrunner Andrew Dabb says. “The fact that we’ve been able to take this Midwestern blue-collar approach to this genre feels like we’re breaking the mold.”

But the mold-breaking didn’t stop there. Supernatural might’ve started out as a horror show with some snarky one-liners, but it evolved into some of the boldest, most experimental (and certainly strangest) stories on the small screen. “We’re a show of big swings,” co-showrunner Robert Singer says. “I used to say, with every idea, ‘This will be a home run or they’ll cancel us,’ but every year we wanted to do something really nuts." And when he says nuts, we’re not just talking about the episode with the talking teddy bear or the murderer targeting imaginary friends. Those are just some standard monsters of the week. We’re talking about the black-and-white episode shot like a classic Hollywood monster movie, or the episode that introduced Chuck (Rob Benedict), a prophet — who’d later reveal himself to be God — who was famous for writing a book series called Supernatural. That, of course, led to Sam and Dean attending a Supernatural fan convention as the show continued to redefine what it meant to inject a series with meta humor. And the swings never stopped. Season 13 featured a Scooby-Doo crossover as an animated Sam, Dean, and Castiel solved a case alongside the Mystery Inc. gang. And in season 14, after giving God a sister a few years prior, the show made the Big Man Himself its final villain. “I don’t think any idea, barring some production concerns, has been viewed as too crazy,” Dabb says. “Because we know that our fans are smart and that they’ll follow these guys anywhere.”

So long as each episode features Sam and Dean — and the occasional heartfelt talk on the hood of the Impala — the show can do just about anything, which is another reason Kripke had to rewrite his first draft of the pilot. Originally, Dean was the only brother who knew about monsters growing up, bringing Sam up to speed later in life. It wasn’t until Kripke figured out that they needed to be in this together that the series snapped into place. Because at the end of it all, they’re two brothers bonded by the loss of their mother and a life spent on the road with an absentee father. (It just so happens that their mother was killed by a demon and their father hunted them.) The familial dynamic — the irrational codependency, as the angel Zachariah (Kurt Fuller) once called it — is the most important part of the show. “The first inkling I had that we had something special was shooting the pilot,” Kripke says. “It was the scene on the bridge when Sam and Dean talk about their mother. It was the first time that you really saw their chemistry and their connection as brothers on full display. Because I’ve always said this show begins and ends with whether you believe that sibling relationship.” But Sam and Dean weren’t just the center of the show. For many years, they were the show.

Supernatural has never been an ensemble drama. For the first 82 hours of the series, Ackles and Padalecki were the only long-running series regulars — Katie Cassidy and Lauren Cohan briefly joined for season 3, appearing in 12 episodes combined. But Sam and Dean weren’t just in every episode; they anchored every episode. (They skipped table reads because there would’ve been only two actors there.) “I had many moments of not only questioning, ‘Can I keep this up?’ but an answer of ‘I cannot keep this up,’ ” Padalecki, 37, who’s been vocal about his struggle in the early seasons, says. “I borrowed strength from Jensen.” But even Ackles, 42, admits it was a tough job. “The 23-episode seasons were nine and a half months of filming,” he adds. “It was a lot of work, but I always came back to: I still enjoy it, I still like telling the story, I still like these characters and the people I work with.”

Not only did the guys stick around, they built a reputation of having created one of the warmest sets in the business, with a number of crew members staying with the production all 15 seasons. It all dates back to a talk Kripke had with his stars during the filming of the series’ second episode. “I said, ‘The show is about your two characters, and with that comes this responsibility,’ ” Kripke says. Padalecki remembers the exact setting of what he calls their “Good Will Hunting moment,” a bench in Stanley Park in Vancouver, where they film. It was a chat both actors took to heart. “We’d both been on other sets,” Ackles says. “We knew we wanted to enjoy it, to have fun with our crew; we wanted them to like us and us to like them and to have fun doing what we do.” It’s an attitude Pedowitz hopes bleeds into other CW shows, an attitude that launched an annual tradition where the CW chairman/CEO takes his new casts out to dinner with the Supernatural guys, a chance for the vets to share advice. “It’s always the most flattering situation,” Padalecki says, recalling a moment he had a few years back with the late Luke Perry, who was a part of the Riverdale cast. “Luke was sitting next to me and he was like, ‘What y’all have done and what we hear about you guys, it’s really cool to be associated with y’all in some way, shape, or form,’” he recalls. “And I’m sitting there pinching myself.”

It’s a behind-the-scenes legacy that’s perhaps just as impressive, if not more so, than the onscreen legacy. Collins, 45, who started as a guest star and the show’s first angel in season 4, has become the show’s third-longest-running series regular, and he still remembers walking onto set his first day. “When you’re coming onto a show as a guest star, it can be a little bit nerve-racking,” Collins says. “Coming to this set, it was an immediately different vibe. Think- ing about working on other shows in the future, that’s something that I aspire to bring with me.”

A similar reputation extends to the fans as well. Not only is the #SPNFamily one of the most dedicated fandoms out there, it’s also known to be a pretty nice one. (Not many fandoms can say they’ve helped launch a crisis support network for their fellow fans.) But their dedication isn’t just about seeing what crazy twist God throws at Team Free Will next. Thanks to fan conventions and social media, the viewers are just as invested in the lives of the actors. Supernatural’s not just about the words on the page, it’s about the actors saying them. “When you’re dealing with the public taste, there’s an alchemy of great writing, a great idea, and the close-up that’s required,” Peter Roth, chairman of Warner Bros. Television Group, says. “You need stars who you want in your living room.” And you need stars who want to be in your living room, and who, even after 15 years, care so deeply that they get emotional while taking photos in Malibu.

"It's going to be a long eight months," Ackles declares. Standing on that same ledge, an hour before the champagne shot, Ackles, Padalecki, and Collins walk away from a group hug after unexpectedly starting to tear up. It might be the setting — looking out over the ocean — or the occasion: their last-ever photo shoot. Or maybe it’s the fact that they’re almost a month into filming their final season.

It had been a question posed to the stars for years: How long will this show continue? How long can it continue? “Even my mom and dad were like, ‘When are you going to be done with this?’” Ackles says with a laugh. It was a decision the network and studio had ultimately put into the actors’ hands, and it was a conversation they’d been having for a while. Back in 2016, Padalecki told EW, “If we don’t make it to [episode] 300, I think Ackles and I will both be truly bummed.” But in season 14, they hit 300…and then kept going. While filming episode 307, they announced the upcoming 15th season would be the end, which will bring them to a total of 327 episodes when all is said and done. “[Jared] and I were always married to the fact that we never wanted to go out with a diet version of what we had,” Ackles says. “We wanted to have enough gas left in the tank to get us racing across the finish line. We didn’t want to limp across.” Padalecki remembers the moment it hit him — not the decision to end it, but rather the opposite. “We had that moment where he and I both realized that we didn’t want it to end,” he says. “It finally got to a point, ironically, where it was like, ‘I never want to leave this. I could do this until the day I die, and then if I get the choice when I’m dead, I’ll re-up!’ But you never want to be the last person at a party. We just knew. That’s not to say there haven’t been vacillations, but we all trust the decision that was made.”

Starting in July 2019, the cast and crew returned to Vancouver to begin filming the final season, but in March 2020, with two episodes left to go, they were sent home. For years, fans had wondered what, if anything, could stop the Winchesters, and now it seems we have the answer: a global pandemic. As sets closed amid social-distancing measures due to the spread of COVID-19, it didn’t take long for fans to start connecting the dots, sharing relevant GIFs from episodes that featured viruses, most notably Chuck telling Dean to hoard toilet paper “like it’s made of gold” before the end of the world in season 5’s “The End.” (Did we mention that Supernatural is also kind of psychic? In a season 6 episode, Dean calls Sam “Walker, Texas Ranger,” which just so happens to be the role Padalecki has lined up after this ends.)

When production paused, it all felt a little like we were living in an episode of the show, just waiting for Sam and Dean to drive up in Baby, open those creaky doors, and save us. They might not be able to do quite that, but the thing with the Winchesters is that they never stay down for long. When Supernatural is able to safely resume production, it will. And though there are only two episodes left to film, fans will enjoy a total of seven unseen hours, including the return of Charlie (Felicia Day) and a mystery woman who visits the bunker and, for some reason, gives Sam and Dean all the holidays they never got to celebrate. “She makes Christmas for them and Thanksgiving, birthday parties, and all that. It’s a very good episode,” Singer says, adding, “I don’t know when it’s going to air.”

That’s the thing—no one knows, not even the guys who took out Yellow Eyes, stopped Leviathans, defeated Death himself, and are supposedly destined to be the messengers of God’s destruction. But Sam and Dean do know the value of a good plan B. “Obviously it’s a horribly unfortunate situation we’re in, but the silver lining is that it gives us an opportunity to recharge,” Ackles says. “We had just finished episode 18, we shot one day of episode 19, and I was reading these two monster scripts thinking, ‘It’s like we’re at the end of a marathon and they want us to sprint for the last two miles.’ I feel like this almost gives us an opportunity to refocus and go into the last two episodes and hit them with everything we got.” Because when they do return to set, shave their quarantine beards, and step back into Sam and Dean’s shoes for the last time, they’ll have one shot at ending this thing…and they’re determined not to miss. 

Photos: Peggy Sirota for EW 

https://ew.com/tv/supernatural-stars-cover-ew-to-reflect-on-the-shows-undying-legacy/

[ghostesez]

The Timeline of this Show Makes No Sense - Let’s Talk About That

We need to start by establishing when Danny’s accident happens. The show’s pilot, ‘Mystery Meat’, is established to happen about a month after the accident. We don’t know when exactly ‘Mystery Meat’ takes place, but we do know that it’s prior to Halloween (since Halloween is featured promenantly in ‘Fright Knight’). For the sake of the timeline, let’s say that ‘Mystery Meat’ happens a week after the school year starts (I’ll explain why this is wrong soon).

In the US, school usually starts on the last week of August, usually a Tuesday. I’m pining August 24, 2004 as the start date of the trio’s freshman year. This would put the accident at circa July 24, which is a nice date considering it’s a Saturday. I’m putting ‘Mystery Meat’ so early in the school year for two reasons:

1. Despite the love in the Phandom of mentioning it in fics, it’s never said that Danny missed school because of the accident. We know it was likely significant since Danny’s family definitely knows that it happened (they talk about it during the episode). It’s reasonable to assume that the accident happened while Danny was on break from school.

2. The whole plot centers around Sam changing the lunch menu. While Sam is implied to have been discussing it with the school board for a while, Sam is the type of person to change the menu ASAP and not wait around to do it months later. For all we know, she could have been talking to the school board instead of the school because she didn’t yet attend Casper while on summer break from middle school. This also points to ‘Mystery Meat’ happening early in the school year

So, I’m setting ‘Mystery Meat’ as happening on August 30-31, 2004. Meaning that all of the follow episodes happen between September 1 to October 30, just under two months:

But! Prisoners of Love takes place during May, it is specifically on May 9th if I remember correctly, because Maddie makes reference to that day being the date of her wedding anniversary. So what the hell is going on here?

If we instead say that ‘Mystery Meat’ happens in January, this makes more sense with the timeline established in season one. The accident can then be set as having happened over winter break, and my two previous points above applying to a new semester rather than a new year (which makes Sam’s comment about talking to the school board make even more sense, even if she now took longer to complete her goal). The inclusion of Danny being shown at Casper in most of the season one episodes makes it difficult to establish when his summer break was. Since ‘Fright Knight’ comes after ‘Teacher of the Year’, this would mean that all of these episodes happen over the course of about ten months. An accident in January would mean that these episodes happen in his sophomore year.

There’s one particular screen shot from ‘Shades of Gray’ that complicates things.

So, ‘Shades of Gray’ happens between October 22, 2004 and October 31, 2004. Assuming it happens on October 23 and the days after, that leaves only a couple of days for ‘Teacher of the Year’ before moving onto ‘Fright Knight’. I guess it’s possible, but a very small window of time, especially if you buy into season one happening over a year instead of like two months (which you probably should).

Here’s the rest of season one:

And here’s the first part of season two:

The episodes ‘13’ to ‘The Fenton Menace’ take place between November 1, 2004 and December 24, 2004. Let’s talk specifically about ‘Memory Blank’ and ‘Reign Storm’ for a moment. In ‘Memory Blank’, Danny gets his logo from Sam. This makes sense with the date established in that photo from ‘Shades of Gray’, but there’s no way Valerie knew to title the photo as ‘Phantom’. Amity Park calls him Inviso-Bill and all manner of nicknames until ‘Reign Storm’, when Danny sets them straight. How does she know his name is Phantom? Does she know other secrets of the universe? Is Valerie secretly a member of the Illuminati? More at 11.

Okay now for the rest of season 2:

Let’s assume that ‘Micro Management’ takes place in January. ‘Reality Trip’ takes places at the end of the school year and the beginning of summer break. The rest of the season takes place between January and May. The season takes place in a spring semester of their freshman or sophomore year, depending on when the accident happened. Because of ‘Prisoners of Love’, I’m inclined to believe that it was their sophomore year.

Here’s the list of all of season three with the intentional exclusion of ‘Phantom Planet’ because we all hate it:

‘Reality Trip’ served as both the end of season two and the beginning of season three... kinda. Which is why ‘Inifinite Realms’ is listed as the second episode here. The 2000’s were a weird time for Nickelodeon scheduling, guys. Just go with it.

(‘Urban Jungle’ is bizarre okay, I have no idea what happened there. It’s a season three episode and definitely premiered after ‘Infinite Realms’, since that’s where we first meet Frostbite, who then shows out to train Danny in ‘Urban Jungle’.)

We know that ‘Claw of the Wild’ happens during the summer, it’s explicitly stated in-episode. This means that ‘Infinite Realms’ to ‘Frightmare’ happen over the course of a whole ass year. Nobody is shown to be at school during ‘D-Stabilized’, so it may or may not happen during summer as well.

They’re shown back at school by the time of ‘Phantom Planet’. If the accident happened in January 2004, this is the beginning of their senior year. If the accident was during July 2004, it is the beginning of their junior year.

It’s been a minute since I’ve seen the show, so I may have missed a couple canonical dates. Please let me know what you think.

TL;DR: The show runners didn’t plan out a timeline and I wasted an hour of my life typing this out on my phone. Huzzah 🙌