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#every fucking guy one hit killed me i died so many times
forecast0ctopus · 10 months
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struggled
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n-slayaaaaa · 1 year
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Because I Liked A Boy
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Summary: You were now at the top of Ethan's kill list all because you liked a boy.
Warnings: slut shaming, virgin shaming (is that a thing? did I make that up?), mentions of smut, sexual detailings, angst, major scream vi spoilers
Pairings: Ethan Landry x black!reader, Ethan Landry x reader, Chad Meeks Martin x black!reader, Chad Meeks Martin x reader
•••
Fighting back did not seem like an option.
You wanted to just crawl on the floor and give up right then and there. Any future you could have after this didn't matter because Chad wouldn't be with you.
Oh my god ... Chad.
How does one continue with their life after watching someone they grew to love be butchered in front of them? You shouldn't have witnessed it. You wished you never saw him die. You knew it would haunt you every time you closed your eyes. Unless you died. Dying seemed like a nice alternative.
Fighting back did not seem like an option.
But Sam and Tara weren't going to let you go out like this. "Take this." Tara shoved a brick into your hands, nearly falling from your grasp, but she caught it. "Y/N, please. Please you gotta be strong you gotta listen to me." Tara shook your shoulders.
You were in such a state of shock that the only thing you could focus on was crying. Slow tears rolling down your flushed and sweaty cheeks. "I-I .." You stuttered. Jumping at the door slamming, black robes coming into view.
"We have your back." Sam chimed in, holding her brick up and ready to attack at the figure emerging. "We won't let anything happen to you."
You took the brick from Tara's hand, giving her a small nod. The three of you stood in a triangle formation, a Ghostface killer stationed in front of each of you. There were three of them this time around and you felt like you wanted to throw up all over your shoes.
"Come on, Motherfucker!" Tara shouted, frustration evident in her scratchy voice.
The killer in front of you lunged, slicing your arm before you hit them with a brick in the chest. You grabbed your arm, hissing as the blood pooled around your fingers. Angrily he walked away from you and met up with the others.
Detective Bailey stood in the center, proud of everything that he had accomplished with his team of psychos.
There was a ringing in your ears as he spoke, part of you trying to focus and the other half wanting to be with Chad. Sam and Tara were right, you needed to be strong, you needed to be a fighter. Quinn was revealed as a killer, causing tears in your eyes because you believed she was truly dead.
Bailey looked to his left, the last killer pulling off their mask and a tuft of brown curls exposed who the assailant was. Your stomach dropped, the brick falling from your hand as you covered your mouth. A scream begging to be let out but you stopped it.
Ethan Landry, your best friend, had a hand in the deaths of your friends and boyfriend.
The boy smiled at you almost as if he were laughing. Taunting you for what he had done. "Hi, Y/N." He smirked. "Looks like Mindy was right, it really was easy to juke the roommate lottery." Ethan laughed.
"E-Ethan ... no." You shook your head, a lump in your throat forming.
The person you were supposed to trust. The guy that had wiped your tears when you missed home or were frustrated with school. The person you shared so many jokes and secrets with. He was fully unrecognizable in front of you.
And that broke your heart even more.
"Now you see me, Pretty Girl." He grinned, teeth exposed as he couldn't keep his eyes off of you. "All I had to do to get close to Sam and Tara, was roommate with a self absorbed jock literally named Chad." Ethan scoffed. "It was bad enough he had a crush on you, then you had to go and fuck him. God it felt good to kill him!"
You tilted your head in confusion. "You .. you did all of this because I liked a boy?" You asked, looking to Sam and Tara for answers that they couldn't give. Were you the reason that Chad was killed? Because your best friend had feelings for you?
"No, no, no, you sweet dumb thing." Ethan walked near a glass display case, the fixture being the only thing keeping him from you in this moment. "They're still not getting it!" He laughed, looking over at his family. "Sam has to pay for the murders in Woodsboro. Chad was a bonus."
"Sam didn't kill anyone." Tara turned in his direction, quick to defend her sister.
Quinn emerged next to you and Sam, her knife pointed at you both. "You fucking liar, yes she did!" She screamed.
"I didn't kill anyone! I defended myself." Sam protested, stepping closer to the girl, the brick in her tight grip.
"You dumb bitch!" Quinn snarled. "You killed our brother!" The heaviest weight hit you in your chest. Realization dawned on you instantly and you shared a look with Tara. "Now they get it."
It all goes back to Woodsboro. Sydney and Gale warned you that this might happen. That the pattern of terror they had been running from for decades would continue, with you and your friends taking over the role of prey.
"And he fucking deserved it." You snapped, turning your head at Quinn. A sharp pain kisses your cheek and you hissed, blood trickling down your face from where she sliced you.
She smiled viscously. “That’s for breaking my brother’s heart.”
Ethan shouted at his sister. “I said don’t touch her.” He proclaimed, eyes dark as they flickered from his sister to you. “I wish you would have gave me a chance. I could have protected you from all of this, saved you even.”
"Your heart's pretty fragile if never getting your dick wet sent you into a spiral like this." In a split second decision you dipped to the floor, picking up your brick and throwing it in Ethan‘s direction. He nearly ducked the object, rage spreading over his face as he growled at you like a wild animal. “Run!” You shouted to Sam and Tara.
The Carpenter sisters were able to flee up towards the second story balcony, followed by Quinn and Detective Bailey. You were left with Ethan on the ground floor. His teeth biting his plump lips as he stared you down.
“We would have been perfect together, Y/N.” He smiled, stalking closer in his big black boots. “We had the same humor, same interests, it was hard hiding all of this from you because you’re so smart.” He motioned around him.
You took careful steps back, surveying the area to find any means of escape or a weapon. “Why didn’t you ever tell me how you felt?” You asked, ignoring his comments.
“Because as soon as Chad came into the picture, it’s like I didn’t matter. I never existed to you…” His lips curled into a frown. The glistening of his knife catching the light and drawing your attention. “All those nights you snuck into our dorm ... I never heard moans like that from anyone. Didn't know you were such a slut, Y/N.”
You chuckled. “I never knew you were a pathetic bitch but look where we are now.” You shrugged. “Following in your brothers footsteps, how embarrassing.”
In a second, Ethan was in front of you. His gloved hand wrapped around your throat, his knife in the other, hovering over your chest. “Does this feel good, Baby?” He asked. Lips nearly brushing against your cheek as he spoke. “Tell me you’re not fucking soaked.” He whispered in your ear.
You faught against his body, his arms not letting up from pinning you against the wall. His fingers squeezed around your throat tighter and tighter to where you couldn’t speak. No weapons were in arms reach, the only thing you could think to do made your stomach turn.
Turning your head to meet his, you kissed Ethan on his soft lips. You could feel his body tense underneath your touch. Ethan had never been kissed, never had luck with girls, and he so desperately wanted things with you to be different. His guard was down, allowing you to snake your hands through his brown curls as he rested his knifed hand along your back.
You wrapped his hair around your fingers, pulling tightly on his head and away from you. Before he could react you collided heads, instantly regretting it upon feeling lightheaded by the impact. It temporarily stunned him and gave you enough time to kick him in his chest, sending him flying back into a display case.
Ethan’s knife flew out of his hand, landing on the ground with a thud. A shot rang out from the balcony with Sam holding the gun. Quinn’s body dropped immediately and you started laughing. “Damn, another sibling dead. That sucks.”
“Fuck you!” In a fit of rage Ethan attempted to kick your stomach, frustrated when you ducked underneath his foot and picked up his missing knife. As you stood up, you planted the blade into his stomach and tore upwards. Cutting through his belly button and dragging the knife until you reached his ribs.
“I’m sure you dreamt about it.” You retorted, looking into his eyes when he dropped to his knees. You took the knife out, blood splattering all over your face and clothes. You straddled his dying body, holding the knife tightly in your hand. "This is the closest you'll ever get to me again.”
Ethan sputtered blood out of his mouth. "You feel so good on top of me, Baby." He choked out. "It's too late for me to be your first love, but I know you'll never forget me."
"Die a fucking virgin!"
You sliced his throat open, watching the crimson flow out of his body and get soaked up by his black robe. Your hands shook terribly. Stomach turning as your snapped back to the reality of your life. With malevolence you dug the knife into Ethan's chest, stabbing him repeatedly enough to break his ribs in three different places.
His brown glossy eyes stared back at you. Guttural screams escaped your mouth as his blood splashed over your face and arms and chest. You held the knife above your head once more, ready to plunge it into his body but you were halted.
"He's dead!" Tara screamed. She held your hands close to hers, trying to stop your trembling. You snapped your head in her direction, wide eyes full of confusion and worry. "They're all dead. We're safe, Y/N."
She nodded towards the front of the warehouse, policemen and Sam's boyfriend, Danny, emerging onto the scene. You dropped the knife, blood seeping into your skin and completely covering you. "He was my best friend..." You trailed off.
"I know." Tara rubbed your back gently. "I know he was."
You took a shaky breath. "I-I've never killed anyone before, T." You stuttered.
"Trust me, we're gonna get a shit ton of therapy after this." She comforted you.
Tara held your hand tightly as you both met Sam outside of the warehouse. The younger Carpenter took you to a nearby ambulance, the workers asking where you were hurt and examining the bruising on your throat. Asking you where you had been injured enough to bleed like this.
"It's not my blood." You said, staring at the floor. Adrenaline still pumping within your veins. Completely forgetting you were cut on your arm.
"Male survivor identified. African-American male, appears to be in his early twenties, significant trauma to his torso."
Your head snapped up at the first responders voice on the nearby walkie-talkie. You pushed the lady off of you, cleaning the slice on your cheek could wait. Breaking out of the ambulance, you looked around you, eyes locking in on your boyfriends body being rolled on the gurney.
"Chad." You breathed, resting your hand on his arm. He was warm. He was alive after everything he had been through, all of Ethan's attempts to destroy your happiness had failed. You smiled at Sam and Tara who stood on the other side of him. "Can't believe we fucking survived this again."
You took the oxygen mask off of his face, kissing him deeply and cupping his cheek. Upon Chad's coughing you stopped and placed the mask back onto his face. "Sorry, you kinda need that."
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I've got a way more fun and much less racist conspiracy theory if anyone wants it: the whole show is Ed and Stede telling the story of how they met and got together to their grandkids while they're babysitting. That explains the over-the-top nature of it, they're trying to keep kids interested in a fun pirate tale.
In real life, Ed and Stede opened up coffee shops right next to each other. Stede's shop had multiple chandeliers, one time Izzy went in and Stede told him to fuck off and Ed was obsessed with that. Ed saving Stede from the Spanish was actually him swooping in to fix Stede's many, many health code violations.
Izzy is still equally as intense as he is in the show ("I was honored to work for the legendary Blackbeard, the most genius part-time Starbucks manager I'd ever known"). He still tries to kill Stede (tries to hit him with his 2006 Chevy Malibu) so Ed fires him. Izzy then just straight up calls the cops on the coffee shop, which is annoying but ultimately doesn't go anywhere because, again, they run coffee shops. Stede has his crisis after Ed admits he's thinking about selling his shop because running it is just stressing him out so he goes back to Mary; they end up finalizing their divorce papers after like 30 minutes.
Ed's feeling bummed and can't reach Stede on social media, so he feels abandoned and reaches out to the crews of their shops for companionship. Izzy threatens to call the cops on him again and he freaks out because he realizes this mean little White guy is totally willing to weaponize that against him.
Ed's "kraken era" in "real life" is just him firing Lucius and then "marooning" Stede's crew by changing the locks on Stede's coffee shop so they can't get in. He tries to force the crew to unionize against him and force him out of the coffee shop he hates running by making them work overtime. He starts talking about making them work a big Black Friday-esque sale and Jim just throws a bag of coffee beans at his head with expert precision and knocks him tf out.
Stede finds the crew loitering outside his shop and they go to sort things out like five minutes later. He finds Ed just fucking face-down on the kitchen floor. They take him to the hospital, Ed has to pretend to let Lucius be his boss for like a week, and for the rest of their lives every time Ed suggests something Jim doesn't like they say "don't make me bean you again, old man."
The rest of the show is them trying to translate how they navigated building their relationship into their pirate fantasy. Characters like the Badmintons and Ned Low are blatant wish fulfillment on old bullies. Season 2 feels rushed because the kids' parents are coming to pick them up soon so they have to hurry. Izzy dies in the show because they just fired him in real life but they wanted to give the kids a moral story but panicked and had to think of an out so the kids don't ask where he is now.
Do I have hard evidence for this? Don't worry about it. Yes, I know I'm a genius, please hold your applause.
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goodnightmemes · 5 months
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THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER SENTENCE STARTERS
❛ I'm sorry for your loss, your...your losses, rather. ❜
❛ Nobody gets away with anything. Not really. ❜
❛ Don't lecture me about family values. You're just as shit in that department as I am. ❜
❛ That day was the last day we were all in the same place. Alive. ❜
❛ They will love you because I love you, and the only thing stronger than love is how scared they are of getting cut out of the will. ❜
❛ And most people go their whole, wasted, stupid lives without one minute of true resolution. Not me though. ❜
❛ You know what a resolution is? It's a deal you make with the future. ❜
❛ The people in charge of making us healthy make us sick. We cheat the dying. We fleece the poor. Promote the racist. Let the demons run amok. This world needs changing. ❜
❛ You're supposed to be shadowing me. Shadows don't fucking talk. ❜
❛ This is beneath you. And you're going to kill it. But you're better than all of this. And the minute you figure that out, you're going to be unstoppable. ❜
❛ There's no such thing as a step back. You go forward. If you hit a brick wall, you don't go back, you go through. ❜
❛ Nearly realized is the sweetest. It's better, I promise, in the moment just before than in the moment after. ❜
❛ You are consequence. And tonight, you are consequential. ❜
❛ You are a pretty, pretty little thing. ❜
❛ You wonder why people hate us. This is why. ❜
❛ Everybody knows that edible arrangements are what you send to people you hate. ❜
❛ If you start thinking this is reality, you'll just slip into the abyss. ❜
❛ We can talk about it after because I've had a shit day and I really just wanna starfish and forget the world. ❜
❛ Don't talk to me until I've come at least twice. ❜
❛ I love how deliciously, pointlessly mean you lot can be. ❜
❛ You still didn't need to come here though. It could have happened quiet. Peaceful. In bed. But I guess it's got to happen like this. ❜
❛ It's amazing how far you can get on denial. You know why so many people use denial to get by? Because it really fucking works. ❜
❛ You can't enhance this image? You see it all the time on TV. They hit a button, it enhances it. ❜
❛ I don't even own anything funeral black. ❜
❛ Satin is silk for poor people, no one should wear it to a funeral, unless they died in it. ❜
❛ Nobody knows they're the fall guy until they're falling.❜
❛ Women are the natural leaders of the species. Ancient Egypt had it right. ❜
❛ Okay, just because the door's open doesn't necessarily guarantee you a seat at the table. ❜
❛ You're not who I thought you were. ❜
❛ I really didn't want to think it, but...you're all fucking monsters. ❜
❛ Watching you shit on your principles would have been worth every fucking penny. ❜
❛ The mind of guilt is full of scorpions. And I wouldn't wish their sting on anyone. ❜
❛ Don't have to be smart to be dangerous. I'm not scared of rattlesnakes 'cause they're so smart. ❜
❛ You're so out of touch with your human side...you can't even listen to anything outside your own head. ❜
❛ I haven't seen you sleep in like...I mean, it's been a fucking long time. Like, horror movie long. ❜
❛ Life is insane. It is madness. The sooner you understand that, the better off you'll be. ❜
❛ The world might not be safe but listen to me, and listen carefully. I won't let anything happen to you. ❜
❛ All these terrible things and I thought, that's when people come together. But we've never been further apart. ❜
❛ Tell me it's worth it. Tell me you know the risk and I'll be there with you. I'll back you up. Just tell me. ❜
❛ Shut your mouth, get your shit together. The fuck is wrong with you? ❜
❛ Men, when they think they're immortal, all they want to do is fuck. When they figure out they're going to die, all they want to do is fuck. ❜
❛ It just makes you think, you know, life is so fucking short. ❜
❛ You don't have to be a tyrant, but if you don't want to be consistently cruel, then you have to be sufficiently brutal at least once to establish authority. ❜
❛ I thought it was an act. I figured you just played the housewife so you could keep a roof over your head. Spread your legs or suck his dick twice a week and you're set. You never have to work a day in your life. And I thought, "Good for her, she found her angle," but...this is really you. Isn't it? ❜
❛ Words got us into this, words can get us out. ❜
❛ You're a collection of impeccable, elaborate masks in orbit of a stunted heart. ❜
❛ There are certain things one shouldn't have to face in life. Time enough for self-reflection after. ❜
❛ I don't normally like to get my hands this dirty, but honey, you earned it. ❜
❛ I see you now. I look at you and I see... You. The poverty of you. ❜
❛ The real world is Darwinian. Survival, chaos, power. Leverage. ❜
❛ You feel it. In the air. We're sitting outside of time and space. ❜
❛ This is the moment luck meets opportunity. ❜
❛ In the ancient world, we'd seal this with blood, or spit. And then later, papyrus. But, a deal's a deal all over the world. ❜
❛ We're a... virus, I think. People, I mean. ❜
❛ But everyone loves something. And in that love there's collateral. ❜
❛ I say this with love. Let it go. Let it all go. ❜
❛ So I say, we stand tall and proud. Bill's come due. Let's not hide here in the basement like we've got something to be ashamed of. No. Not us. You and me against the world. ❜
❛ It may not have been perfect, but you can't say we didn't change the world. How many people can say that at the end? ❜
❛ I knew I would climb to the top of the tower on a pile of corpses. ❜
❛ It don't matter in the end why you did any of it. I don't fucking care why you did it. We don't want your confession, or your rationale, or your explanation. ❜
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ineffable-suffering · 6 months
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The Curious Incident of The Flaming Sword in Good Omens
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Just like so many other Good Omens red herrings, hints and *Aziraphale voice* clues, the question of 'What the fuck ist the deal with Aziraphale's flaming sword' has been absolutely tormenting my mind ever since S1 dropped all those years ago.
And while many of my other questions about S2 (like 'What the fuck is the deal with the Eccles cakes' or 'Who the fuck made the Gabriel statue') remain unanswered and could, possibly, just not matter at all and I should just get the fuck over them– the unsolved case of Aziraphale's flaming sword in S1 has always seemed like a weirdly important blind spot to me.
So, in an attempt to finally solve this knot in my brain, I made a timeline for the bloody Flaming Sword because what else would I spend my Friday evening on. Here goes nothing, I thought:
Aziraphale gets issued the sword by Heaven to guard the Garden of Eden in 4004 BC, and gives it away to the humans.
God asks him about it right after they humans have left Eden, Aziraphale lies to her and before even finishing speaking, God just loggs off and doesn't seem to care anymore.
The sword seems to be lost for the next 6000 years to follow and, once again, no one really cares.
The first time we see it again is when the International Express Man delivers it to War in the present day.
The next time we see it after that, is when Pepper effectively kicks war in the shin, makes her drop the sword and proceeds to anihilate her with it.
Brian and Wensleydale do the same to Famine and Pollution.
Aziraphale then wields the sword once more, despite never having to really use it (but hey, it looks capital-B Badass).
Lastly, our Holy Delivery Guy then picks up the sword together with the other (now deceased?) Horsmen's artefacts and they once again vanish.
Needless to say, I found myself nothing the wiser after making this timeline. It seemed completely useless. I still had no idea why the sword even existed and why they kept making such a big fucking fuss about it all throughout Season 1. So, I decided to make another list, this time with all the random ass questions I had about this random ass sword:
Why was it issued to Aziraphale in the first place? Since when does an angel need a random flaming weapon to protect two (2) humans that are already being guarded by a hundred-meter-high wall, when he could very well just miracle away any and every threat to both himself and them?
Was he given the sword to defend himself against demons? If so, why would they give him a burning blade instead of, for example, a Supersoaker full of Holy Water? (Sure, I'm fairly certain Supersoakers hadn't been invented yet, but you catch my drift)
Is the sword actually burning with hellfire? If so, it would a) still be a pretty useless weapon against demons, but also b) possibly explain why Pepper, Brian and Wensleydale were able to kill or at least temporarily get rid of three of the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (who, be they whatever they actually are, surely count as some sort of immortal entities just like angels and demons do)
Did the sword actually kill War, Pollution and Famine? After all, the World as we knew it did get reinstated by Adam again once they managed to stop Armageddon. Does that mean that the three Horsemen were revived again too? Unless Season 2 takes place in a war-less, pollution-less and famine-less world, they must have somehow made their return (or never really died in the first place)
Where. The Fuck. Is. The Sword. Now? And why does it bother me so much???????
Alas, just like so many other questions, these too seemed to remain unsolved. And since the fucking sword didn't make a comeback in S2, I guessed that it probably just wasn't more than ... well, a randomly flaming, randomly misplaced, randomly unexplained Flaming Sword.
Nothing more than a plot device.
Hmm, right. A ... plot device.
Hang on. (And that's when it finally hit me.)
It's a fucking plot device.
Most authors and consumers of media are familiar with the use of plot devices in story telling. However, I personally had only every seen characters be used as such, to merely bring an important point across or further underline or advance a story's or main character's development or plot.
It wasn't until I was about to simply give up because I couldn't see my way out of the seemingly unlimited sword-related questions anymore, that I realized: There are no answers to those questions. Just like there are no deeper meanings to any other plot devices. Their sole purpose it so shine some light onto another, more important thing, story or character.
And in this case, that character is Aziraphale. Or more so Aziraphale's choices and his relationship with and belief in God and Heaven. The Flaming Sword (or more so Aziraphale's giving-away of it) is the first way of showing us that Aziraphale:
doesn't always aka pretty much never obey God's will (even all the way back in The Beginning),
will lie to God about disobeying Her
and possibly, just like Crowley joked about, was the one who by trying to do a Good Thing, accidentally gave away something that would later somehow become a literal War weapon, lmao
It also tells us that:
God apparently doesn't always care or cast them out of Heaven when an angel actively disobeys and lies to Her. Or, for all we know, Aziraphale giving the sword away and not admitting to it was somehow part of Her Ineffable Plan anyway.
Heaven is apparently absolutely useless at keeping track of its very few ethereal belongings. That's what you get for outsourcing work, you capitalists.
Right at The End, the sword returns to its owner who had it right in The Beginning too: Aziraphale. And not just that: It actually ends up saving the humans. For the second time. First all the way back in Eden, when it was just Adam and Eve. And now, 6000 years later, at what would have been the end of the World. Very poetic, *wipes away tear*
So yeah, there you go. That's the big revelation I have come to. Would I have preferred to uncover yet another sneaky Gaimanian easter egg just so I could wave it in your face like some sort of a puzzle solved at a scavenger hunt?
Sure.
But hey, sometimes flaming sword plot devices are just that. And I'll make my peace (or War?) with it.
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forpiratereasons · 5 months
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i know a lot of people wanted izzy's death to be more meaningful in some way - that if he had to go, that he go out protecting ed, or even stede, or sacrificing himself for the crew. i guess i just want to throw my two cents in and say i loved it, that it wasn't like that. it was kind of stupid, kind of senseless. death is senseless. we so rarely get to see the whole fucking senselessness of it in media in a character we care about.
this one gets pretty personal so i'm gonna put it under a cut
my gran died at the end of july, super out of the blue, and it just didn't make any fucking sense. she was doing so good. the night before, she'd stayed up late, laughing and playing cards and eating blueberries with my mom. and then the next morning she dozed off after breakfast and just. never woke up again. and it was so hard that we didn't see it coming. when my mom called to tell me all i could say was what? what? what? it didn't make any sense, what she was saying. senseless. meaningless. one day there, one day gone.
i work in the legal system, and we see that senselessness a lot. a guy driving his car in the wrong place, wrong time, hit by a drunk driver, gone forever. a neighbor stepping out onto their porch while a fight is going on, someone draws a gun, gone forever. a friend steps between two strangers arguing, steps right into a knife he never saw, gone forever. a child getting a hold of dad's gun, gone forever. an addict chases a high, the dose is off or there's something else in it, gone forever. a dad getting frustrated with the baby, gone forever. a teenager thinking he could make it across the tracks before the train, gone forever. tomorrow i'm going into work to run a med mal case. the surgery went wrong. the nurses didn't notice the signs. gone forever. firearms discharge accidentally. an argument devolves into a fight. a deal goes bad. someone is stronger. faster. drunk. high. negligent. reckless. my work is a fucking parade of people who did nothing to deserve death and everything to deserve more, and yet. and yet.
they forgot to disarm ricky banes. izzy happened to be standing right behind him. gone forever.
that senselessness makes sense to me. i guess it mattered to me to see that play out on screen because that's what i see in real life. that ache is the ache i see in people's eyes when they file into court. in my mom's eyes at family dinner. sure, ofmd is just a tv show, and izzy hands is just a character, but that death reflected something to me that i see every single day in so many people.
i've seen a lot of people say izzy deserved better. so did that guy and that neighbor and that stranger and that addict and that child and that baby and that teenager and my gran.
but death is not about deserving. it doesn't care what someone deserved. it comes or it doesn't. when a creator/writer kills a character, they aren't necessarily saying that character deserved it. they're saying death comes for us all, and right now it comes for this person. that they made izzy's death kind of stupid and kind of senseless reflected reality for me and made me and the death i experience every day feel really seen. the questions it leaves in its wake that you'll never know the answers to.
why is sometimes one of those questions.
you don't have to like it. that's okay. i just wanted to say - just because it wasn't for you doesn't mean it wasn't for anyone. it meant a lot to me.
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There are not enough fics of Jason just reacting to all the shit that happened while he was dead/in a coma/braindead/gone.
"Dick and Kory broke up???"
"Apparently Miriam Delgado is a name I need to add to my list :)"
"Danny is dead?"
"SUPERMAN DIED HOW THE FUCK DID THIS DOOMSDAY GUY JUST PUNCH SUPERMAN TO DEATH HE'S SUPERMAN."
"Also apparently Superman has a clone now???"
"who the fuck is this bane guy and how did he break B's back."
"What the fuck is the speed force."
"COAST CITY DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE - WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE?"
"Are the Green Lantern Corps around rn?"
"Hal Jordan became evil?"
"So Green Arrow also died and came back?"
"How many Green Lanterns are there anyways?"
"There's a Green Arrow 2.0 and he's the first one's kid? Poor guy."
"What the fuck do you mean the sun almost got eaten."
"Iris Allen is alive and time travelled here from the future with her grandson apparently??"
"Blockbuster is smart now?"
"Wait who the fuck is Neron."
"Dick moved to Bludhaven and became a fucking cop?"
"So Dickie finally got adopted."
"Martians almost took over the world?"
"Apparently while I was gone Gotham was targeted by a deadly plague, got hit by a giant earthquake, and basically got kicked out of the US?"
"Someone actually decided to date the Joker? Is she insane? Don't answer that."
"The entire population had to run so that the flash could siphon the energy to run a fucked up hunger games/olympics crossover race set by a pair intergalctic alien gods so they wouldn't Alderaan earth?"
"YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT BASICALLY EVERY HERO GOT THEIR AGE TEMPORARILY FUCKED UP? I NEED PICS ASAP."
"y'all went to war with a guy trying to literally hollow out the universe? damn."
"One of the Pretender's friends was a ghost that was actually an interdimensional portal to Apokolips?"
"The JLA kicked B out and almost fell apart because they found out he had made contingency plans to take em all out? You're telling me they were actually surprised? Old man's paranoid as fuck of course he has contingency plans."
"B and Supes told the rest the JLA their secret identities? I didn't think they had it in them."
"somehow the entire population got mind wiped and no longer remembers that Wally West is the Flash or that his identity used to be public. hm."
"B got arrested and put on trial for murder? lmao."
"WAIT HE WAS FRAMED BY BATGIRL 2.0'S DAD?"
"Jericho is alive???"
"Raven is also alive and a teenager now???"
"Blockbuster murdere- Catalina Flores? Ah, another name to add to my list, I see."
"Why did Gotham become a war zone- oh it was one of B's contingencies? That tracks. Wait another Robin died? I don't care if she wasn't actually using the name Robin when she died what the fuck B?"
"You were actually on to something working with this Orpheus guy but of course he got murdered too-"
"since when did deathstroke have a daughter and why is she missing an eye too?"
"DONNA DIED AND CAME BACK TOO?"
"The Atom's ex killed the Elongated Man's wife and hired Captain Boomerang to end the Pretender's dad? Damn."
"Look is Hal Jordan alive or not."
"EDDIE IS A SUPERHERO NOW?"
"is Jericho evil or not?"
Like there is so much that happened and so much to freak him out over.
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Round 1 - Side B
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Propaganda below ⬇️
Johnathan
Catholicism doesn’t really exist in the game but it also kind of does. Basically, Johnathan didn’t know that God existed until one day all the angels started coming down from heaven to have a war with the demons from hell. And then Johnathan made a pledge to go serve god and heaven and kill all humans living on earth because they were like “unfit” or “unclean” or something. So then Johnathan’s friend Walter goes to hang out with satan and then they become enemies :( But he’s basically catholic even if he doesn’t directly call himself that so i’m gonna say yes.
Johnathan literally fuses himself with god to become merkabach. He is unhinged. At the start of the game i thought he was cool because he didn’t want me to kill my best friend like WALTER did. And unlike WALTER, johnathan didn’t fuck up the boss fight with the minotaur. But then johnathan became really really bourgeoise or bougie idk whatever idk how to spell it. And then johnathan was like “FUCK POOR PEOPLE” and i was like no girl nooooo. But johnathan wanted to fuse himself with god and wipe all humans off the face of the earth because heaven thought they were impure. So he was trying to invoke the angels of destruction so badly and i was like johnathan you can’t do that son, and so i had to beat his ass. And then by extension i had to also beat god’s ass. And then i don’t really remember what happens but johnathan was essentially the most catholic guy in existence considering i don’t know anybody else who was chill enough with god to do steven universe fusion with him.
ok so like in smt theres alignments . chaos neutral and law. jonathan is the local lawboy and this means hes like the one who rather follow the rules already established and reject radical changes. but anyways hes also shown to be some sort of follower of god in this world and also of the like. local religion or whatever in mikado (where everyone is from) and hes very devoted to the cause and to keep things peaceful as they are now instead of trying to change shit up like walter (the chaosboy)
if he wants to commit genocide who am i to say no
has one fight with friend and decides to become an angel about it and nuke tokyo off the map
Fuses with literal biblical angels to become another angel that then wants to genocide anyone deemed ungodly/unclean by the biblical higher powers (which includes the entire population of Tokyo. And people who read manga).
Dude he is absolutely insane. He's my poor little meow meow. The party got high and he rolled around on the floor and meowed because he thought he was a cat. He is also so insanely gay. Like stupidly queer coded . that just makes the catholic guilt hit harder tbh
Gay boy who dies in every timeline
Paul
he's like if renfield from dracula was cool youth pastor.
He's also a priest, who essentially becomes a vampire due to an "angel" and tries to convert the entire town. He also runs an Alcoholics Anonymous group. I love him
Listen you've probably gotten this guy idk how many times but JUST IN CASE, I submitted him. He's a priest who fell in love and had a lesbian daughter. He becomes a vampire after his money-laundering fundie simp sent him to the Holy Land. He's so torn up over his lover having dementia and God allowing so much overwhelming death that he decides he's going to try to Cure Death Forever but oh boy is it a slippery slope and the man is surrounded by enablers.
so i binged watch the chosen (it's a drama series but it's the bible) and I needed to balance or else Id be insane so I watched midnight mass. It was good. Fuck this rat -- op
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herbrattypsht · 11 months
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Erik coming back from Wakanda to tell reader he’s a prince
a/n; I love this idea sm, did a little self indulgent while writing this but i hope you enjoy
Erik “Killmonger” Stevens x black!fem!reader
TW: mentioning of injuries, slight angst, over all just fluff
* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶
Seven months. It had been seven months since Erik had left with a word. You were aware of his plans to take over Wakanda as the rightful heir to the throne, but for him to leave, pack all his things without a goodbye? It hurt you.
You and Erik had known each other ever since you were kids. He was placed in the same foster home after his father passed, and y’all just clicked. Erik was always a hotheaded kid who couldn’t express his feelings correctly while you were sweet and understanding, taking the time to listen to him. You understood why he was angry and you were there for him as he was there for you. When you guys got to your sophomore year of high school you decided to try dating, and it was the best decision ever.
Or so you thought.
You were always the first person he said hi to at the beginning of the day and the first person he said goodnight to at night. He told you that you were his world and that he couldn’t wait to live a long life with you. But now, you couldn’t believe a word he said. You were beyond heartbroken and depressed.
* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶
“Your majesty, we have arrived “ Ayo said from the front of the all black Rolls Royce.
“ Thank you Ayo” Erik said, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out the car. Erik already knew and had came to terms with the fact that he royally fucked up. He knew how you must have been angry and sad. Erik thought it was best to not tell you when he was leaving in fear you would try to stop him.
With two Dora Milaje at his side, he fixed his chain around his neck, adjusting his shades and walked into your apartment building.
Erik was beyond anxious. Had you had moved? Did you find someone new? Were you going to not going to want to talk to him? So many thoughts went through his head as he had made it up to your floor and stood in front of your door.
Reluctantly, he knocked on your door, hoping you would answer and hear him out.
You had just been laying on your couch, hardly paying attention to whatever show was on your TV. You hear the knock and got up, confused as you were not expecting any company.
Without looking through your peephole, you opened the door, and was welcomed with the sight of Erik, with Ayo and Aneka by his side. To say you were shocked was an understatement.
“ I know I fucked up princess, you have every right to be angry with me. You can scream and hit me all you want but please hear me out.” that was the first thing he said while he stood before you. His beard was trimmed, his dreads were a little longer, freshly retwisted and braided back.
“ You have ten minutes to explain” you said with a stern tone, letting him and the Dora inside your apartment.
* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶
You guys had sat down on your king sized bed in your bedroom, while Aneka and Ayo waited outside the door, spears in hand.
“ Baby, I know you’re upset, and I don’t blame you, but I did this to protect you” he said, slowly grabbing your hand and interlocking it with his. You stayed quiet, looking at him with glossy eyes. You were so close to bursting into tears but you just couldn’t.
“ When i went to Wakanda to claim my place as king, a lot went down. I was stabbed, hospitalized for a while. And after some time of proving myself, my Auntie made me prince” he didn’t want to go into detail about how he almost killed T’Challa and almost started a war with American.
Finally, giving his hand a light squeeze, you let the tears flow. You hugged him close, sobbing silently into his neck. His held you close, rubbing slow circles on your back.
“ I thought that if you didn’t know when I would be leaving you wouldn’t be able to try and stop me. So many people died because of my actions, and the last thing I ever want is for one of those lost lives to have been yours.” He finally calmed you down, cradling your face in his hand.
“ Erik, please don’t leave again, I can’t do it without you. Ever since you left everything has been awful. Even getting out of bed had been a challenge for me. I needed you. And you weren’t there “ you said, your voice cracking a little from crying.
“ I’m not leaving you ever princess, that’s actually another reason why I’m here, I want you to come back to Wakanda with me, to be my real princess and live the long life I promised you “ he said, holding both your hands in his.
“ You want me to come with you?” You said, only questioning it cause it’s so hard to believe. You were still mad, rightfully so, but whats the worst thing that could happen if you gave him a second chance.
Before he could answer the question, you pulled him into a kiss, a passionate yet soft kiss. He finally broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.
“ You gon’ be my princess, no one is ever taking me from you” he mumbles, looking into your eyes as you finally smile, and oh how he missed at smile. He was so ready for Romanda to finally meet the woman who kept her nephew safe all this time.
A/Not : should i make a P2? Lmk if yall liked this?
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HOTD S01E10 thoughts
Well, I thought the finale was awesome. Also, apparently, Rhaenyra is TOTALLY my favorite character, not Daemon, LOL!
- Emma D’arcy is amazing. Period.
- Sorry, ya’ll, but I completely understood where Daemon was coming from throughout the whole thing. He was like YAAAAS, I finally have a reason to take these motherfuckers down, go to war on Otto and his bootlickers after nearly 20 years. YAAS!!!! Woohoo!!
- Why, why, why would he even remotely want to be there when Rhaenrya was going through that childbirth which could possibly lead to her death when he loves her so much when he went nearly through the same thing with Laena who he didn’t love even remotely near like? Daemon has shown in the past that he does, you know, like cowardly shit. He runs when it’s too much. This is like the ZENITH of way, way, waaaaaaaaaay too much. Of course, his ass wasn’t there.
- As for Daemon choking her, duh! four things:
1. That was all about Viserys and Daemon’s major, major issues about Viserys. Never being good enough for Viserys. Viserys never choosing him for anything. Finding out that he had been heir to the throne for how many freaking years and Viserys had NEVER told him this HUGE fucking thing? And to find this out the day or so after Viserys died, so he can’t even have a good vent to Viserys about it because he’s still dealing with his major grief over Viserys, you know, dying.
2. Daemon is dealing with a shit-ton of emotional shit. A) Viserys, the brother he deeply loved, died. B) He just lost his baby. C) His wife’s throne was just usurped. D) He’s all hepped up on YAAAAAS! I can finally kill Otto and Crispin and all of those other cunts who have annoyed me for years!!
3. Daemon hurt her physically. And then Rhaenyra gave it right back emotionally. Did you see her reaction once he let go? She was all (with a smile on her face, no less) “You didn’t know? Hahahahaha! He never told you!!” Yeah, she hit back at him where it fucking hurt!
Yeah, these two fucking fight dirty as fuck!
4. Daemon Targaryen is NOT an anti-hero. He can be a monster. He can be a bad guy who does a lot of really, really bad things. Yes, he loves his family. Yes, he does, but he is not some woobie. He does really awful, terrible shit. That be who Daemon is. This is NOT out of character for him. No, sireebob!
- Rhaenyra making sure that Rhaena and Baela were part of the war council discussion... chef’s kiss.
- I love Jace. That is all.
- Every moment with Luke made my heart hurt because I knew what was coming.
- The contrast to the birth episode from the first episode compared to this one, gah. All the awards for Emma D’Arcy. ALL. THE. AWARDS. Throughout the labor, pulling out the stillbirth baby girl, holding her, wrapping her up. Gah. And even Daemon coming upon her and unable to come in because it was too much for him and then his grief on his own out in the waves. My heart!! Gosh, it was devastating.
- Vhargar is huge. Aemond is fucking evil. I hate him. I know, he didn’t mean to kill Luke, but still!
- Rhaenrya tried so hard for peace. She. Tried. So. FUCKING HARD. And Daemon was such... ugh, he kept acting like he was in charge, and some of the looks she was giving him like, “Fucker, I AM THE QUEEN, dude!” And then likewise when she wouldn’t let him kill Otto, he was all, “but, but, but.... I wanna! Why won’t you let me kill me him?!?!?” (And, honestly, I was thinking same. “Rhaenyra... let Daemon kill Otto!!”)
- Ooh, I loved the callback to Daemon and Otto facing off on the Dragonstone walkway and then here comes Rhaenrya on Syrax. And this time, Rhaenyra was WITH Daemon. So cool.
- Finally, oh, I LOVED when Ser Erryk brought out the crown, knelt and declared himself loyal to the Queen, said his vows. Oh, I was all verklempt. Then Daemon put the crown upon Rhaenyra’s head, called her “My Queen” and then knelt before her. And all followed suit. That was great.
Really, I think if the showrunners had known how well the show as going to do they would have stretched things out more and THAT would have been the end of the season. It would have been a fantastic contrast the to previous episode’s end, and such an awesome end to the episode and season. Ah well.
Overall, I thought it was a fantastic episode. Emma D’Arcy was really the MVP. Just fantastic. Ep 9 was meh, but this one was awesome. Can’t wait to rewatch it on Sunday night!
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bi-bard · 1 year
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Lizzy McAlpine Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Jason Todd - Jason Todd Imagine [Titans (HBO)]
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Title: Lizzy McAlpine Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Jason Todd
Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader
Word Count: 2,089 words
Warning(s): unhealthy grieving, injury, argument, yelling, mention of sex
Author's Note: There are like four of these currently planned for Jason (counting this one). It's becoming a problem. You guys need to stop encouraging me.
**Not intentionally written in chronological order**
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erase me
Don't answer me I'm calling just to hear you scream And you're fading But he feels like you in between
It was all about grief.
Not that I wanted to admit that.
I wanted to believe that this was just me changing as time went on. It had nothing to do with anything else around me. I was just growing. Exploring.
After Jason's death, my decline was fast.
At first, I was isolating. I hid away from the entire group. I only trained on my own. I spent most of my day curled up in my room. Someone would try to stop by, usually Gar trying to get me to eat. Sometimes it was Dick trying to get me to just walk around the tower for a little while or just talk to him.
After a while, I started forcing myself out of the tower. I would go out and find the best place to hide in. Anywhere with loud music and flashing lights and too many people that I could spend just a bit of time devoting my time and energy to. I would overwhelm my senses just to shut off my thoughts for a few hours.
I called that growing. Getting better. Moving through the grief.
No one agreed with me.
I was tired of the worried looks. I just ignored them.
Every night, I would come back to see Dick waiting up for me. I would ignore him, going back to hide in my room before he could lecture me.
I wasn't blind.
I knew when I felt someone watching me.
I ignored it for a while. But when I caught sight of someone on the roof of a building, I knew that I couldn't avoid an inevitable confrontation.
I sighed, turning into an alley. I jumped up onto a fire escape and climbed up.
The figure was still on the roof, looking around the street frantically. I almost chuckled. They'd lost sight of me.
"Who the hell are you," I called. The figure froze, their back still facing me. "Who the hell are you and why have you been watching me?"
I stepped forward, ready to pick a fight if I needed to.
And then, the figure turned around.
Jason.
I stepped back immediately. I shook my head, convincing myself that I had been imagining things. That was it. I had finally lost it. I would have to tell Dick that he was right. I needed help.
"You can't be real," I mumbled, more to myself than Jason.
"(Y/n)-"
"Don't," I snapped. "Don't say that. You... You died. I watched you. You can't... I've gone crazy."
I went to walk away, wanting nothing more than to just run home.
"(Y/n)," Jason stepped closer to me, grabbing my wrist before I could walk away.
I stared down at his hand. I didn't know if I should've pulled away or stayed or yelled or just... anything.
"I wanted to know you were okay," he admitted.
I pushed him back. "I... I have spent so long grieving you. So long. I... How are you... Why..."
Jason stepped forward again. I hit his chest.
"I tried so fucking hard to distract myself!" I shouted. "To forget you for just a little bit and then you just show up again. And you weren't even gonna talk to me? You were just going to watch me from the roof? Seriously?"
"I was scared of this exact reaction!" he yelled back. "You think it didn't kill me? I watched you do this shit every fucking night! It fucking hurt! Watching the person that you love kiss and touch and..."
He trailed off for a moment like the last word would hurt him. I couldn't blame him.
"I just wanted to forget," I mumbled. "Just for a minute."
I looked down for a moment.
"We...," I shook my head and looked back at him. "We need to go tell the others. Dick and Gar- God, Gar's gonna be so happy to see you-"
"I can't."
I felt my heart drop. "What?"
"You can't tell anyone about me."
"Jason..."
He leaned in and kissed me. I almost fell apart. Right in that moment. It had been so long... too long.
He leaned away again.
"Don't tell anyone you saw me," he repeated. "Please."
"Promise me that you're real first," I muttered. "I'll... I'll do anything, but please... just promise me."
"I'm real," he replied. "I promise."
I let the words sink in for a moment before I kissed him again. I cupped the sides of his face, like that would cause time around us to freeze.
Jason pulled away again. He grinned at me.
"Come back to me," I whispered. "Soon."
He nodded. "Sooner than you think, I promise."
I stepped away fully. I waved to him as I made it back to the fire escape.
When I made it home that night, Dick was waiting up for me.
"We need to talk," he said. Like he did every night.
"Okay," I replied. Instead of ignoring him.
He looked shocked at my response.
"I'm ready to talk."
No need to avoid... no need to forget.
an ego thing
Ooh-oh, I was trying to be honest If this is what I get, I won't be honest anymore Oh, if this is what I get I swear I won't be honest anymore
Jason was getting cabin fever.
There was no doubt about that.
After we had all spent so long in the Titan tower doing nothing but training, we all were getting to that point.
But Jason... Jason seemed to miss the violence more than he missed helping people. It was alarming. I knew that he missed being Robin. He missed working with Batman. He missed wearing a mask. But I didn't want him to jump back into that work if all he missed was the ability to do whatever he wanted with little consequence.
I just never wanted him to feel like I didn't support him. Or that I was attacking him.
We were on the couch. My head was resting on his leg. I was listening to him rant about the subject again. I was listening, trying to truly process every word. I just wanted to help him.
"Is it really that bad that I want to actually kick some ass after I've spent months stuck in here training?" he rambled. "I just want to get back to what I'm good at."
I took a deep breath. "Can I... Can I say something?"
He looked down at me and nodded.
"Do you think maybe just wanting to go kick ass is what's making Dick and Bruce hesitant to put you back out there," I asked.
"What?" his eyebrows scrunched up.
"I just... I wonder if they're hoping all the work will help you see your work as more about helping and saving people than you do getting to kick people's asses."
I pushed myself to sit up and turn to him.
He didn't speak up for a moment. I instantly felt like I had gone too far. I reached out and touched his arm, trying to get some response out of him.
"Jason," I said. "I... I just think that you got a little carried away in Gotham. Focused more on the violence than the protection. I want to see you focus on something productive. Surely, you've seen enough people use violence for fun to know that it's not healthy."
"You're really gonna compare me to those guys," he asked.
"No, no, not at all," I shook my head. "I'm saying that there getting caught in that mindset can be harmful."
"But you're saying I'm already there."
"I'm saying you can change it and be better," I explained. "A lot of the guys that you've faced are too far gone."
"How long I have then?" he stood up, raising his voice.
I was already confused about how we got to this point, but I felt like I was too far down this road to back down. I needed to make my point known.
Jason didn't wait for a response. "Go on, tell me."
"I didn't say that you were going to end up like that," I shook my head. I stood up, planning on comforting him. "I... I'm trying to help, Jason-"
"No, you just want to be able to say you tried," he snapped, stepping away from me. "You wanna be able to brag that you tried to save me before I was 'too far gone', right?"
He started walking away like I wasn't going to be able to respond to him.
"I don't fucking want any of that," I said. He kept walking. "Jason! You can't just storm away when you don't like my answer!"
He didn't even react. He just kept walking.
Once he was out of sight, I sighed and sat back down on the couch. I ran my hands over my face.
In my heart, I knew I was right. I knew that I had made a good point.
Maybe that's why I held my ground so firmly.
Why I didn't follow after him when I absolutely should have.
Pancakes for Dinner
I'll try to hide the way I feel But I'll just wanna shout What do I have to lose right now?
"Where's Jason," I asked as I stormed into the Batcave.
At first, I only saw two people. Two men just standing there. Bruce Wayne and some guy that I didn't recognize.
"Who the hell are you," Bruce asked, turning to face me.
I saw Jason sitting behind him. I ignored Bruce, walking forward to stand next to Jason. The other man seemed to be checking on something.
"(Y/n)," Jason grinned at me from behind his Robin mask. "How'd you find this place?"
"Followed you one night," I answered quickly. "Are you okay?"
"Who is this," Bruce asked again. I waved him off.
"I'm okay, just a rough night," Jason explained. "This is (Y/n)! We're old friends!"
Friends. Yeah. Just old friends.
That's why I snuck into the secret hideout of a billionaire that's secretly a vigilante.
Just friends.
"That's Bruce," Jason continued to me. "And this is Alfred."
"Hi," I awkwardly greeted.
I stood next to Jason silently as Alfred explained that Jason needed to take it easy for a little while. Alfred walked out after that. Bruce looked between the two of us. He almost seemed to glare at me before he turned around and walked out.
"He's a ray of sunshine," I mumbled, leaning against the desk.
"He's doing his job," Jason replied. "You did just break into his secret base."
"He should've thought about something like that happening before he took you in."
"How'd you know I got hurt," he asked, ignoring my comment.
"I keep up," I explained. "You're my best friend, Jason. I worry about you."
I saw some look cross his face for a moment. One that I imagine crossed my face when Jason called us old friends. Disappointment.
I paused.
I had to be imagining things.
Jason looked away from me, turning to look toward the door of the hideout more than anything.
"Jason," I said.
The impulsive part of my brain was beating the logical part. The logical part didn't even know it was in a fight.
He looked back at me. The disappointment was gone, but that didn't seem to stop me.
I stepped closer to him.
I took a deep breath before leaning down and pressing my lips to his. I was ready to run. Turn and run and probably vomit.
But then, he kissed me back. He sat up a bit, cupped the back of my head, and kissed me back. It was all so... soft. Like we were both nervous that the other would suddenly push the other away.
I pulled away first. "God, I love you."
Jason chuckled, his hand moving from the back of my head to the side of my face. "Took me getting hurt for you to admit that?"
"Didn't hear you rushing to say it," I muttered.
"Maybe I should make up for lost time then," he teased, brushing his lips against mine again.
"Maybe you should," I replied.
He pecked my lips before pulling away enough to mumble to me, "I love you."
He repeated that pattern a few more times as I happily tried to follow his lips in the hopes of getting a longer kiss.
I was ready to spend eternity just like that.
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captainsimagines · 2 years
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the warmth of the future || one
Summary: It’s been two years since you fell in love with Bucky Barnes, and the holidays are just around the corner. With even more love, more friends, and more family in attendance, you and Bucky fully intend to enjoy these days with as little drama as possible. But that’s not always the case with a relationship like yours, is it?
Pairing: DBF James “Bucky” Barnes x (Fem) Reader
Based on the Song: ‘Willow’ by Taylor Swift 
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Warnings: strong language; age difference kink; exhibitionism; anal fingering (Bucky receiving); blowjob; unprotected sex
Word Count: 7,160+
Author’s Note: Oh, I’m so ready for the holidays this year. Can’t wait for you guys to start this mini-series! I love these characters just as much as you do, and after so many messages this year about this fanfic in particular, I just had to make a mini sequel. I love you guys so much. I hope you enjoy and get into the early holiday spirit. 
~
     “I take back what I said before. You’re probably going to die by getting hit by a fucking bus.”
The sound of the horn near you is impossible to recover from. You know Bucky heard that over the phone. Still, you continue to sidestep several pedestrians and another taxi, running to the subway. A few weeks ago you two theorized the craziest possible ways you both would die. Bucky bet you’d be abducted by aliens and killed for being so annoying. You bet he would die by falling off a train in the icy Austrian Alps. “Funny, Barnes. Excuse me for being excited for Christmas break.”
Bucky scoffs gently. “So excited you can’t look both ways before you cross the street?”
You’ve navigated New York streets for years now. You know every crack, every turn, by heart. “You want me home on time, or no?”
Bucky grumbles, “Just get home in one piece.”
Home. It seemed like Bucky’s two-bedroom above his bar was more of a home than your own apartment. You spent more time in Brooklyn than you did Manhattan. Peter had practically bullied you about how much money you were wasting on rent. And you were, no doubt. It was a pain to wake up in Brooklyn and have to travel to Manhattan for work, but you did it anyway. And besides, it made sense. Bucky works nights, so him staying the night in Manhattan was illogical.
But home. That was wherever Bucky was. Warm beside him and wrapped up safely. This would be your third Christmas together, the third you’re spending together back home with your dad. It feels like a tradition now. Bucky had tried convincing his sister, Becca, to join this year but she planned an impromptu cruise with her fiancé instead.
Bucky didn’t blame her, though. It was her engagement present apparently.
This time, Bucky had rented a car and you two would be driving down today. With your assistant tagging along. Not because you were working this holiday break, but because Peter Parker had nowhere else to go in the city. His aunt died this year and this would be his first holiday season without close family to celebrate with. Peter was going to meet you at your apartment, but you were running late, and Bucky was calling to scold you for it.
I’ll put the book down after chapter fifty, I promise.
That promise is stale, Doll. I know you.
I prooooomise.
You had not, indeed, kept that promise and read all the way to chapter sixty today. But you had to. This was Loki Laufeyson’s third book in his insanely popular trilogy. It’s an impossible read to put down.
The reception becomes spotty the deeper you go into the subway station.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get home in one piece. Hey Bucky, would you love me if I was a worm?” The group of teenage girls swiping their Metrocards giggle beside you.
“We’re not doing this again. Get home.”
Rolling your eyes for no one to see, you bid him goodbye.
Another holiday with your family, another holiday with your friends, another holiday with the love of your life. How could life possibly get better than this?
~
    Life did have ways of planting the smallest mishaps. Take the snow for example: Did Bucky know driving in the snow was such a major pain in the ass? He figured. Did he listen to your warnings about having to buy chains for the tires earlier? Nope.
One gas station, Peter’s googling of instructions, and an hour wasted putting the damn chains on later, you finally passed the town sign welcoming you home.
Your childhood town looked the same. It always looked the same. Feelings of nostalgia, scents of cinnamon, and an overall sense of calm quickly settled into your stomach as Bucky drove through town. Leaning your head out the window, you grinned widely as the car passed Wanda and Pietro’s flower shop, closed for lunch. Half of you wanted to fly out the car and bust down the door. The other half really wanted to see your dad first. A four hour drive was nothing with a good playlist and some burgers on the way down.
Once you finally pulled up to your dad’s house, you flew out of the passenger seat before Bucky had the chance to put the car in park. He followed less quickly as you, but his face showed his contained excitement. “It looks like the whole crew got here before us—”
Bucky’s voice floats away as your body slams onto the icy grass. “Oof!”
Clint squeezes tightly, his body weight compressing you into a smooshed pancake. “You’re here!”
“My…lungs…”
Bucky’s boot comes into view. “Get off my girl, Barton.”
“You get to see her every single day! Let me have this!”
Struggling, you shimmy like a worm and try your hardest not to touch anything intimate on the giant squishing you. “Clint. Remove…yourself!”
Your boyfriend’s loud sigh precedes his show of strength. Grabbing Clint by the collar of his winter jacket, Bucky yanks him upward and drops him on a high pile of snow. “Idiot.”
Clint’s laugh is interrupted by Pietro’s loud announcement of, “We’ve started decorating already!”
Sitting up, you dust snow from your elbows as best you can. “Without me?”
“We had extra hands,” Pietro reveals, grinning like a mad man. Before you can ask, a muscled body steps from the front door and onto the porch, wearing too little layers for the temperature outside.
“Steve!” Bucky exclaims, abandoning both you and Clint in the snow to run to his best friend. “You lied about visiting your mom!”
Steve runs a hand down the back of his neck, instantly turning red. He meets Bucky at the bottom of the porch and shares that clap-on-the-back slash bro-hug. “She decided to spend it with her partner’s kids and let me know a week ago.”
You huff as you stand, now dusting off your ass. “We had lunch a week ago.”
He meets your eye over Bucky’s shoulder. “And I didn’t exactly lie. Just omitted the truth.”
“Big fat liar.”
Steve ignores you, completely accustomed to your sarcasm and kindergarten insults. His attention returns to Bucky, as you turn your attention to Clint.
“Sometimes I think you want to kill me.”
Clint snorts, “I’m not that heavy. You’re just small.”
He accepts the shove to his shoulder. Clint would never admit it, but he acts this way because he’s an only child. By teasing you, Kate, and Wanda, he’s able to channel all that big brother energy somewhere. Why only you three? No one knows. Pietro is the same age and yet, receives Clint’s best friend energy. Maybe Clint Barton was destined to be a girl-brother—like a girl dad. The words sound stupid in your head as you repeat it.
He pulls your mini-suitcase from the trunk just as Peter emerges, shy as always around new people. “Clint, this is Peter Parker! He’s my assistant, but for the next week he’s just a friend! Got it?”
Clint barely acknowledges a single word you said besides the formal introduction. He shakes Peter’s hand and welcomes him to town, pointing back at the house as Peter lugs his own suitcase forward. With the snow, the pink of his cheeks, and his raggedy bag, Peter Parker fits in perfectly. As if the town gave its blessing.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you like Steve?” Clint asks, pulling you from your thoughts.
“Uh,” you mumble, pulling Bucky’s suitcase out. “Ten. He’s been in my life since the beginning.”
Clint nods, a thin smile spreading across his face. Adjusting his hearing aid, he says, “Please let me know the new number when he tells you.”
“Huh?” But Clint’s already running back into the house, carrying your suitcase over his head. He’s lucky his dumbass didn’t slip on the driveway.
When you finally go inside, your dad and Sam are nowhere in sight. You can vaguely hear them near the back of the house, though. Steve is in the kitchen alone, chugging some water and Bucky gone.
“Why am I going to hate you?” you ask, setting your purse down on the dining room table. It’s littered with holiday decorations. Paper snowflakes, red and green candles, baking utensils.
Steve smirks, wiping his mouth. “I’m staying in your room.”
Your brows furrow. “Where the hell are Bucky and I supposed to sleep?”
“Oh, you’re staying in your room, too! Bucky gets the guest room.”
There it is.
“Wha—”
“Your dad isn’t taking any chances this time.”
Huh? What kind of joke was this? A cruel game Steve, Sam, and your dad must have come up with before you even entered the damn town, probably. “I’ve been dating the guy for two years! Of course we fuck!”
Steve purses his lips, eyes widening. “Oh, don’t worry, I know!” Sarcastic, loud, sonofabitch. “Fucking know well enough, too!”
One time. One damn time he walked in on you. “Don’t be jealous.”
He blinks. “Jealous?”
“You want to join? Just ask.”
Steve dramatically slaps his chest as he goes to grip at his heart. “I’m going to throw up in my mouth. Then I’m going to spit it on you.”
“Kinky.”
“You little—”
“Bumblebee!”
Your dad practically sprints into the kitchen, arms stretched wide. You jump up and down as you grip him tightly. “Dad!”
“The drive okay? You hungry?”
“Yes and no! How are you? How’s Monica?”
Your dad flushes at the mere mention of his girlfriend’s name. “Great. She’ll be here for the party.”
He swings you around twice, surprisingly strong for a man who works at a desk nowadays. Sam smiles brightly at the sight. “Gosh, I missed you.”
“I missed you too, but that’s diminishing by the second. What’s this about you barring my boyfriend from my bedroom?”
Sam shoves Steve when he starts cracking up, scolding him. Your dad scrunches his face. “Bumblebee, the horror stories I’ve heard from your friends! From my friends! I understand young love—well, young and middle-aged love, really—but I have more guests staying here this season than just you! I’m being considerate.”
You grimace, then gag dramatically. “I don’t know what frightens me more. The fact that my own father views me as a sex-crazed monster or that I’m sharing a room with Captain Rogers.”
“I trust Steve. He’ll make sure no one goes in or out of that room.”
Steve continues to silently laugh behind Sam, who’s trying hard not to break himself. “Have I done something to you? Am I finally being rightfully punished for stealing one of your friends?”
Your dad scoffs playfully, pulling you in for a side hug. You hang limp, a bodily protest. “No, but now that you mention it, the punishment fits the crime.”
Steve pulls you from your dad, side-hugging you as well. “Don’t worry, pal. I’ll make sure she gets her full eight hours of sleep.”
“Suck my tit, Steve.”
“I’d rather not.”
Bucky chooses that moment to join the squabble, Clint and Pietro following close behind. “What’s happening?”
Shoving Steve away, his waist hitting the corner of the kitchen countertop, you disregard his yelp for Bucky’s attention. “Oh, Bucky, it’s horrible! It’s Romeo and Juliet all over again!”
“I may have missed the first time we lived that story,” Bucky says, his head tilting.
“We’re being separated! You and I are no more! The house is split!”
Steve groans, clutching at his side. His voice comes out gravely. “If it’s any consolation, I’m on your side, man.”
“It was my idea,” Sam offers, raising a hand. Looking back at him, he shoots you a cocky smirk.
“Sam…You traitor.”
“You’ll see each other all day. The nights aren’t going to kill you—”
“Shut up, Tybalt.”
Bucky gives you an unimpressed look. He’ll hype your Romeo and Juliet character reference later, but for now he needs to diffuse the situation.
He heard the conversation. He knows what you’re complaining about. Hell, he wants to complain too. But there’s this nagging voice at the back of his head telling him, Hey Bud. Remember that time one of your good friends invited you over during the holidays and you proceeded to fuck his daughter in every depraved position, every single night, while he was sleeping two doors over?
So he surrenders. “How about we continue with the decorations, yeah?”
“Why is it that you never fight by my side when my dad is involved?” you whine.
He clears his throat, smiling that white-person smile at your dad. “Either I stay on his good side and continue being with his beautiful daughter, or we duel and he wins.”
Your dad accepts this. “You earn some points with me by saying I’d win.”
Beside you, you feel Bucky relax instantly. Giving him the side-eye, you notice Peter emerging from the bathroom over his shoulder.
“Dad! This is Peter, my assistant!” Dragging Peter by the shoulders and presenting him like one would their greatest achievement, Peter holds out a timid hand.
“Ah! This is the man who dodges my calls by saying you’re in a meeting,” your dad jokes, shaking his hand.
Something flashes in Peter’s eyes. Alarm, panic, dread. Who knows. “The meetings were real, sir.”
“Well, either way. The couch is all yours! The more the merrier.”
“Thank you for having me, sir.”
“Everyone is welcome in my house! I try to be a good host.”
With those words, Peter’s eyes immediately soften. “Well, I’ve no longer got family in the city so this is a real honor.”
You notice how the words affect everyone. This tradition has run in your family since you were born—since before. It was an unspoken thing that everyone would convene at your dad’s house. Even if it wasn’t the largest, and people had to share beds, and everyone had to chip in for beer. But there was something about the fireplace in the corner, showcasing nine stockings with everyone’s names on them. The Menorah that was missing its final candle. The smell of cookies and pie every single day of December.
To share this tradition with a new edition, even if Peter might decide not to return next holiday season, filled you with honor.
Your dad, the king of making others feel a part of the club, asks Peter, “What’s your menu like? I’ll send Bumblebee to the store later today.”
Can’t forget that tradition, either. It was always your job to get everyone’s groceries for the week.
“I’ll go with you,” Pietro volunteers. “We’ll pick up Wanda along the way.”
You hum in response. “Make a list. Oh, and Steve?”
Steve lifts an eyebrow.
“I like to fall asleep to whale sounds and the sounds of gorilla’s mating.”
Bucky quickly agrees, just to fuck with Steve. The man who’ll be sharing his girl’s room, it seemed. Something silent but feral was festering in the pit of his stomach, but Bucky chose to make a joke of it instead.
Maybe it won’t be so bad. You two have slept away from each other before. You don’t see each other everyday.  
So Bucky won’t let it get to him.
He won’t.
Promise.
~
      “You’re forced to share a room with another magnificent and stunning male?” Peggy laughs, clearly entertained by the news you’ve shared. Peggy follows you down the aisle with a basket in hand, waving off Pietro’s constant asks of carrying it for her. Wanda swipes the listed items off the shelves into the cart with impressive speed, only half-listening to the conversation. “I don’t see the problem!”
“I’m with Bucky.”
“So?”
“And it’s monogamous.”          
Peggy huffs, “Then strike everything I would have said you do if you were me.”
“I personally don’t understand why Steve has to stay in your room anyway,” Pietro interjects. “Like, there are two couches in the living room.”
“Sam is taking one.”
“Then why not have Steve bunk with Bucky?”
Wanda twirls, a box of sugar cookies in her grip. “I can answer this one! Because even though Bucky slept with his daughter, our little Bumblebee is being scolded now. Your dad is getting revenge.”
So by having Steve bunk with you, it’s essentially torture…for you. Because you’ll have to be the one to sneak out if you dare; you’ll be the one dealing with Steve’s horrendous snoring; you’ll be the one who has to go down the stairs. It was brilliant. Evil and brilliant.
“Revenge? After two years?”
Peggy chuckles, moving her basket from Pietro’s reach again. “Fathers. Always such rascals. My father turned a blind eye and I loved him more for it.”
“My father isn’t turning a blind eye. He’s actively engaging in separating us.”
“I think it’s fucking funny,” Pietro admits, covering his mouth. “Sorry, Peggy.”
Peggy waves him off. “I think it’s fucking funny, too.”
“So, what?” Wanda scoffs, throwing a package of napkins in the cart. “So you’re separated for a week. You don’t have to fuck in the house. There are other places!”
“Wanda!”
“No, no, she’s right on that front!” Peggy admits. “Kate’s bar, the gym Clint attends, the motel!”
You groan, leaning down against the cart. Your chin rests on your folded arms and your back is at an awkward angle. “To stay at a motel like last summer? Then my father will know what we’re doing. And that makes my insides twist.”
“You’re young and you keep your man young. If fucking is the solution, then find a way to accomplish it.”
Pietro sends Peggy an incredulous look, frozen in place as the three of you pass him by. “Does she always speak like that?”
“Address me, dear. I can speak for myself.”
“Okay,” Pietro says, blinking a few times. “Do you always speak like that?”
“Only on Tuesdays.”
Pietro does the mental calendar-hopping in his head. Peggy Carter was the resident grocery store customer you formed an odd friendship with two Christmases ago. She had been outspoken then, and she’s definitely outspoken now. Just because she reigns supreme in age doesn’t mean that all she says and suggests is wise. Sometimes you wonder how she even got past her fifties with her mindset.
“Anyways, that’s my problem right now. Bucky and I will get through it and I will smother Captain Rogers in his sleep. Done!”
Wanda giggles, “He’s cute, though.”
Pietro rounds on her. “No, no! Stop talking.”
“He’s big and handsome and totally not off-limits for me.”
Pietro looks as if he’s just witnessed a mass murder. “I…He’s old enough to be our dad.” Then to you, “No offense.”
“If he had us in his teens.”
Pietro literally whines, “Wanda, I beg you. Do not fuck the Captain.”
“Are you going to let him order you, love?” Peggy asks Wanda, eyebrows high.
Wanda smiles, teeth and all. “Nope!”
Pietro whines again, watching his sister skip down the aisle. He calls after you, so you twist around slowly. “Talk her out of it.”
You shake your head. “You laughed at my predicament. Your sister can fuck who she wants.”
Pietro grumbles as you all pay for the groceries, as you say goodbye to Peggy, and on the drive home. Wanda seems to be two seconds away from cackling.
~
    “This town is so tiny. It’s like a Hallmark movie.”
You give Peter a side-smirk while also holding the door open for him. He enters the bookstore like he’s on a mission, looking for everything and nothing at once. You figure he’s only accompanying you because he’s got nothing better to do in a strange town. And if he is planning on buying you a Christmas present—because he has literally no one else besides Bucky to buy one for—he probably wouldn’t buy it now while you’re with him.
“There’s talk about combining it with the town next over. But that never goes down well for us small town folk.”
Peter scrunches his nose, shaking his head. “Every place has a personality. Combining two doesn’t guarantee a functioning third.”
“You’ve got the right.”
Two Christmases ago you had found Bucky a perfect first-edition about rejected Christmas tales. This time, however, you’re thinking something different. Last summer you had edited a book and included one of Bucky’s major plot suggestions…which made it into the final draft. Bucky doesn’t know, and getting the book for him seemed like a proper gift with meaning attached to it.
Peter watches you drift into the fantasy section. He huffs a laugh, “Another book? What are you guys? Like, 50?”
“You followed my ass into a bookstore. What did you expect? Besides, we’re both avid readers.”
“So get the dude a bookmark.”
“I’m gonna get you a bookmark, you ungrateful son of a bitch.”
Peter laughs again. He grabs a random book and inspects the cover. “What else have you gotten him? I remember you getting him a book last Christmas, too. Actually, for the past two Christmases you’ve known each other.”
“The first Christmas doesn’t count. I had literally just met him.”
“And you got him a book. What did you get him for Hanukkah?”
Anal. But you’re not about to tell your assistant that little tid-bit.
So you answer, “An appropriate gift.”
Peter shakes his head. "A book is a gift that says ‘I love you’, sure. But you need a gift that says ‘I love you, and I want to screw you forever but as husband and wife.'"
Eyes widening, you practically sprint the short distance over to cover his mouth with your hand. “Shhh!”
“What—What?” he mumbles behind it.
“Don’t you dare mention marriage in this town. The gossip will spread, and next thing you know you’re pregnant with your ex-boyfriend’s child, who may or may not be the actual father because you were plastered when you slept with three different guys that same night.”
Peter blinks, waiting a few seconds after you remove your hand from his face to speak. “That’s too specific to be made-up.”
You shrug. “Happened to a cousin of mine.”
“Did she have the kid?”
“I think so. Haven’t seen her in years—”
The sound of your name cuts off your sentence. That voice distinct—unmistakable. Turning, you’re half-convinced you imagined it. But no—there he is. Beautiful as ever, and so much older than the last time you saw him. Like Bucky, you had missed seeing him every time you visited. Two people passing through and yet, never reconnecting. The voice of the only man you dated from this town.
“Peter,” you sigh, astonished by the chance meeting.
“Yeah?” Peter answers, confused.
“No—Peter,” you say, pointing at the man walking toward you, a bright smile on his face. “Peter Quill.”
“And he is?”
Quill extends his arms out in joyful greeting, surprise written across every feature of his fine face. “Well, I’ll be damned. I’ve heard you’ve been visiting every Christmas since you got that fancy New York job!”
You accept his quick hug. “Ever since! How are you?”
“Same old, same old. Dad retired, so I manage the business now.”
“Oh, that’s great! You always wanted to be the boss!”
He runs a hand down the back of his neck, blushing. “It is great. But I want to hear about you! I haven’t seen you since—”
“Since high school graduation.”
He nods, looking you up and down. Not in a sleazy way, but in a way that conveys pure wonder. Like you were a flower that had withered and magically revived. “You’ve…grown.”
You snort softly, pointing at his chest. “Obviously, both of us did.”
He blushes again. “Well, hey. How about we meet up sometime this week and have dinner or something?”
“I was actually planning on going to Kate’s tomorrow night for the fundraiser. You should come!”
His face brightens as he accepts. “You know, I just might. I don’t remember the last time I just sat down and had a beer in public.”
“Contracting that much of a hard job?”
“I am the boss.”
Peter clears his throat beside you, a half-smile plastered on his face. A somewhat incredulous smile.
Knocked from your one-on-one, you instantly start introducing them. “Oh shit. Peter, this is Peter. Peter Parker, my assistant.”
Quill adopts a proud look. “Assistant? Damn, Bumblebee, you’ve been climbing that ladder.”
Quill was the first one out of your friends who began calling you Bumblebee for shits and giggles. Then Wanda and Kate followed, then Clint, then the whole universe. Guess you have Quill to thank for it, but it still made you squeal as a teenager. Now it just functions as a term of endearment.
Peter waves a bored hand through the air. “I don’t get her coffee if that’s what you’re imagining. I google shit for her.”
Quill nods reassuringly. “A very important job indeed.”
Peter purses his lips. “So, Peter—”
“Oh, I go by Quill. It’s been my nickname since…forever, really.”
“Quill…High school friends, then?”
Your eyes settle into a I know what the fuck you’re doing glance. As if daring Peter to investigate further.
But Quill gives him the answer he’s looking for. “We used to date.”
Peter bends forward, over-exaggerated amusement spilling from his literal pores as he slaps his palms against his knees. “Really!”
“Yeah, like ten years ago,” you deadpan.
“Still interesting news!”
Pursing your lips, you turn back to Quill. “Don’t mind him. He’s this close to being fired.”
Peter puffs, “Who else will close the blinds and lock your office door for you whenever Buck—”
Quickly, you pat Quill’s shoulder. “I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night, Quill. The festivities start at eight!”
He stares down at you, something raw flashing in his eyes. Something akin to eagerness. “Looking forward to it.” He takes whatever was in his hands and pays at the front counter, shooting you one final grin before exiting the store.
Peter steps in front of you, arms-crossed and expression smug. “You invited your ex-boyfriend to hang out with your friends and current boyfriend?”
“Hey, he’s Clint’s friend too! And Quill literally lives here.”
“Did Clint ever make out with him?”
You raise a hand to pinch your index and thumb together. “This close to being fired, Parker.”
He turns and skips down the aisle, ignoring your threat. “I feel like I’m in a movie! Small town, old boyfriend, current boyfriend, the holidays!”
Jogging to catch up to him, you basically abandon the thoughts of Christmas presents in order to convince the little shit he’s reading the situation wrong. “Nothing is going to happen with Quill ever again. Do you hear me?”
“Were you and I looking at the same man?”
Glaring, you promise, “Just because he bulked up doesn’t mean my panties are going to drop.”
“Ah, but you did notice he’s huge.”
You exit the store, leaving him a few feet back. “You’re fired.”
Dramatically, Peter presses, “But who will google the definitions of words that stump you when you’re editing?”
~
     The air conditioner blasts around your hundredth sigh. And yet, it’s still not loud enough to mask the sound of Captain Steve fucking Rogers snoring on the floor at the foot of your bed.
What the fuck was your dad thinking? This was so fucking awkward for both you and Steve, obviously, but Steve was too good of a man to say anything. He was given the opportunity to play the protect our shared daughter from boys card, and he snatched that shit right up. Now you were cursed with his snoring practically in your ear, a personal assistant sleeping on the couch downstairs, and a boyfriend a whole staircase below you. A boyfriend that was probably wide awake and low key theorizing all the ways he’d kill Steve in the morning.
Because even though he trusts Steve, and Steve has obviously shared space with you before back in New York, the mere fact you’re alone with an attractive male who is not him must be eating at his self-control. Hell, it’s eating at you. It’s not fun when Steve plays the angel card. He’s much more fun when he fights back.
“Steve,” you whisper-yell, locking your muscles tight as you wait for a response. But the only verbal response you receive is another loud snore. “Steve.”
He doesn’t stir. Slowly, painstakingly slow—you slip from under the covers and tip-toe to the door. Looking back, you’re half convinced Steve will roll over and point with a loud declaration of, “Ha-ha! Got you!”
But the big lug snores and chokes, deep in whatever sedated dream he’s currently experiencing.
Rolling your eyes, you then step out into the hallway with the grace of a literal swan. Sidestepping the noisy wooden planks, avoiding breathing when you walk past your dad’s closed door, pausing between each stair on the way down. The second you touch the carpet, you silently cheer.
Now all you’ve got to do is pass Peter Parker and Sam Wilson. Which proves easy as well, considering Peter’s draped over one couch, on his stomach, with one leg out the blanket and a hand tangled in his hair. Out cold. Sam’s on his back, arm folded over his face, and snoring loudly.
Pulling your phone out of your pajama-shorts pocket, you send Bucky a text.
Open the door.
There’s no response, but there is the distinct sound of bedsheets ruffling and soft pads of feet across the floor.
Bucky opens the door, and the soft orange light shining behind him gives him such a lovely halo, such a gorgeous glow, that you’re tempered to fall to your knees and pray.
“I’m not dueling your dad,” he says, glaring and squinting at the same time.
“Then we’ll have to be quiet.”
He huffs, leaning his forehead against the doorframe. The door is only slightly cracked open, like he’s restraining himself. “Doll…”
“Please?” Because what else can you say?
“Fuck…We’ve gone a week celibate before. How is this any different?”
Biting your lip, you admit, “Everyone’s telling me that I can’t.”
Bucky smirks a little. “So, I’m forbidden fruit?”
Now you pull out the big guns. Still biting your lip, you tilt your head down—barely—and lift your right foot up—barely—so it looks like you’re faintly tempted to cross your legs. “Please.”
Bucky’s eyes slowly close, and his nostrils flare. He pulls you in, expertly shutting the door with a faint click. Immediately, you attack his lips, kissing him feverishly. Like you’ve forgotten his taste. Like you can’t get enough.
“Doll—“
“I want to fuck you.”
Sucking in a harsh breath, Bucky asks, “Yeah?”
You nod the best you’re able, your lips still pecking his. “Mm, I want to see if you can be quiet.”
Bucky detaches himself long enough to speak, his hands gripping your waist. “And here I was thinking you were a little cockslut for me today. But you actually want to make me beg for it.”
You whine softly in response.
“Torture, is what that is. Selfish, and evil.”
You didn’t even realize Bucky had been walking you toward the bed until he crashed into it, dragging your body onto his. With him splayed out underneath you, your fantasies grow supreme.
“It’s both. I want your cock inside me, but I want to see that look on your face you only get when I fuck you just right.”
Bucky’s hips hitch upward involuntarily. “God, I love you.”
With a small giggle, you lean down to nibble on his neck.
Was it dangerous to do this on the very first night? Not exactly. If you were caught, you would just be bullied to the ends of the earth because of it. You’ll be hearing this story even when you are old and in diapers. Your dad may have some choice words with you in the morning, and his gun would definitely make an appearance—aimed at Bucky, of course—but he’d get over it.
Yes, this whole exhibitionist thing you and Bucky have going on is the slightest bit rude. You’re a guest at your father’s house, not a resident. You don’t pay the mortgage. He asked this one simple thing of you for the duration of your stay: Do not share a room with your lover, one of my best friends, under my roof.
But are you respecting his wishes? No.
Does it feel naughty and so fucking nasty, though? Yes.
By the time you get to the, “Will I feel guilty in the morning?” internal bit, Bucky’s cock is deep inside your mouth, and you’ve been stripped of all of your clothes.
Bucky grips the bed sheets as hard as he can, his metal hand squeaking in the otherwise quiet room. His breathing is erratic, but not loud enough to warrant inspection.
Popping off him, you run your tongue from the base to the tip, swirling it around and sucking—one of Bucky’s favorite moves. His tip is the most sensitive part. And when you dip the tip of your tongue over his slit, Bucky nearly shouts. His flesh hand shoots down to grip your hair, half-trying to ball it into a ponytail and half-trying to move it out of the way in whatever direction he can.
“Fuck, look at those lips,” Bucky praises. His eyes meet yours when you look up at him, cock hard on your tongue, and his mouth drops from a sudden rush of tingling pleasure that hits the base of his stomach. “Fucking born to suck my cock, huh?”
With a few final long licks and deep sucks, you release his cock to stand from the bed. “Born to suck and fuck you, Barnes,” you giggle. “Did you bring the lube?”
Bucky rests his head against the pillow, chuckling softly toward the ceiling. “I brought it in case of a quickie and we wanted to skip your prep.”
Humming, you snap open the lid and walk back to the bed. You don’t miss the hungry look Bucky has as he visibly eats your figure up. Settling between his legs, you pat the outside of his right thigh. “Open up, sweetheart.”
“God,” Bucky quietly moans, and bends his knees. Spreading them farther apart, he presents himself to you. And fuck, is he a treat. Cock hard and red, dribbling against his lower abdomen. His balls locked tight, practically begging to be fondled. And his tight, puckered hole waiting for your fingers.
Spreading some lube onto your index finger, you look up at him. “Do you want to fuck me after this?”
“Sweetheart,” he mocks, sucking in one deep breath as he watches you warm the lube between your fingers. “I don’t come unless you come, too. Got that? Don’t you dare make me feel good and then leave yourself untouched.”
“I can always return to my room and take care of myself there. This is for you.”
You say the last sentence with the most teasing tone you can conjure. Bucky Barnes is wholly complete to you. Meaning, there isn’t a puzzle piece left unturned, a secret left untold, or a wish left unsaid. And even though people claim you never stop learning about a person no matter how long you’re with them, they’re wrong about that. Because even if you “learn” something new about Bucky, it’s a given. Something you may not have guessed entirely accurate, but something irrevocably him that it proves to be the most obvious thing in the world.
And as raunchy as this example was, you know Bucky would never let you leave this room without coming at least once, but you never thought he’d declare it so hot and angrily.
“Fuck yourself in front of my friends and see what happens.”
Smiling wide, you lay the pad of your index against his hole. Bucky tenses, gritting his teeth at the sudden touch. “You want to fuck me in front of Steve?”
Bucky growls, suddenly reaching forward to grip the back of your head to tug you down. With a tiny yelp, you fall forward onto his chest, your lips a centimeter away from each other.
“That’s already happened, and it was an accident.”
Slowly, you push your finger into him. Bucky swivels his hips, the movement itself an ask for you to do something else with the intrusion.
“Oh? I remember you admitting to me that it was one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to you, even if Captain Rogers, one of your best friends, saw my wet cunt stretched around your cock.”
Bucky slams his lips against yours, his mouth parting when your finger starts sliding in and out, in and out. He tightens around you, and his hips swivel again. You rise up so you can get a better view.
“You like when people know how well you fuck me.” Pulling out, you massage his hole before lining up your middle finger. You slide both fingers in as you say, “Especially when I have to look those people in the eye the next day.”
Pumping into his body, you marvel at the way his face scrunches in pleasure. How his mouth parts and his bottom lip shines. How his throat bobs and his skin turns a dark pink. How his chest heaves and his nipples harden. Nipples you find yourself leaning toward and biting softly, pulling the pebbled tip between your teeth. Bucky whines, his breathing quickening.
“Sometimes I just want you to rip my jeans off in front of everyone and fuck me right there. I want you to talk them through it—what it feels like, what you want to do to me. I want a fucking audience for when your cock finally leaves me and I’m dripping your—“
“Doll, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up or else I’m exploding right here, right now.”
Bending your fingers, you rub against his prostate until he’s writhing. His cock gives a slight pulse, then another and another as you nearly rub him to completion. But you alternate between fucking him with your hand as fast and coordinated as you can, then stopping to stroke him from the inside. It’s a combination that always brings Bucky to fucked-out tears.
“Tell me when you want to switch,” you assure him. “Tell me and I’m all yours.”
“You little minx,” he grunts, hands sliding along your waist and up to your tits. He pinches a nipple with his metal hand, elated when your face slackens. “Now, sweetheart. Make yourself come now.”
With one final swipe at his prostate, you remove your fingers and wipe the excess lube off on the bed sheets. Then, in one of the most practiced moves you’ve come to achieve, swing your leg over until you’re hovering over his cock, and sink onto him.
“Fuck,” he moans, gripping your hips as he readies to bounce you. But he lets one hand travel, one hand rise and smack your mound. Quickly, you cover your mouth with your hand, clenching your eyes shut.
Pussy-slapping. Huh. Everyday you find out something new about yourself.
He does it again. And again, and again, until you get the message and begin lifting your hips. Bouncing up and down, clenching purposely just to teeter him over that sweet edge, pinching his nipples whenever he did yours.
It’s rough and wet and possibly a little too loud for your predicament, but it’s too good to stop. Every spring of your hips reminds you of that glorious fullness, how the girth of Bucky’s cock burns and shocks and blesses you all at once. Reminds you of his sculpted body beneath yours, a body that has lain there and took it, a body that has draped itself over you and encased you with loving warmth. And the whimpers he expels, the way he bites his lip, the way his fingers leave masculine imprints on your skin…it’s evident you’re the same way, that your face contorts the same way his does, that your nails are leaving light red marks on his chest.
A magnificent pair—two bodies, two people attempting to reach a new height hidden at the base of stomachs, at the edges of spines, in the melting slush behind ribs.
Fuck your exhibitionist kink. You can’t stay away from Bucky because you, simply put, can’t stay away. If you weren’t horny tonight, you’d bet millions that you still would have snuck in and simply held him goodnight.
Bucky tugs you forward until you’re chest to chest, practically hugging, and holds you there as he fucks up into you. Fast, deep, desperate.
“I fucking love you,” he whispers through a moan, his voice near your ear. “Love you with all my goddamn heart.”
“I—” He hits that spot inside of you, and continues to hit it once he realizes. “I love you.”
His arms unwrap from your waist so he can grip your ass, spreading you wider as he pumps. “C’mon, Doll. Come for me. Come all over my cock like the cockslut you are.”
Biting into his shoulder, you shatter completely. Black spots impair your vision, and your back practically bows. Bucky fucks you quicker, and with a low grunt, spills into you.
Sweaty and overheating, you lift yourself with weak elbows. His eyes are still closed as you comment, “For the record, the next time I fuck you in this house, it’ll be with a strap-on and you’ll be bent over this bed, do you hear me?”
Bucky smiles through his post-orgasm daze. “Fuck yes. Make me that promise, sweetheart. Make me your cockslut.”
You chuckle deeply. “It’s funny when you say it when you refer to yourself.”
He blinks an eye open. “Funny?”
“Cute,” you correct. “Because it’s you admitting you’re as much of a horny little bastard as I am.”
Bucky snorts softly, and helps lift you from on top of him. Reaching over the nightstand, he snatches a couple tissues. He cleans what he can, but a bathroom trip is required. “You better sneak back to your room before someone gets suspicious about my light being on.”
“Maybe Steve woke up.”
“Steve sleeps through those loud as fuck broadcasted alerts and earthquakes. I highly doubt the jerk woke up on a silent night like this one.”
“Not so silent anymore.”
Bucky rolls his eyes. You dress, plant a long kiss on Bucky’s bruised lips, and slip from the room undetected. Peter hadn’t moved from his spider position and Sam still snored loudly. Nothing in the kitchen has been disturbed.
You succeeded. You actually fucking succeeded. With a wonderful tenderness between your legs and a blush on your cheeks, you gently climb the stairs and open your bedroom door. Steve lies on his stomach now, sprawled out and practically dead.
You’ll have to sleep without Bucky’s arms around you tonight, but knowing he wanted you as badly as you wanted him? Bliss.
~
TAGLIST: [on masterlist]
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fox-from-fairytale · 7 months
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After finishing playing season 2 I felt tired as if I was the one crawling in snow
I loved this season so much, maybe even more than the first one, even if I cried so much at that scene with Lee and every time he got mentioned I kinda wished he was still there, but I preferred playing as Clementine if I have to be honest. Still, there are some things of this season I don't like:
At the beginning I didn't mind Jane, but all her comments about Sarah and how the others were just a weight to Clem were upsetting me. Honestly, the more I spoke to her the more I knew I wasn't going to stick around with her for too long.
I didn't want to let her die, and I even thought about shooting Kenny, but remembering she told Clem "now you're going to see who he really is" something rubbed me the wrong way about her. And I was right. She put the baby in danger to prove her point. What if in the meanwhile something happened to the car? What if, dying, Clem didn't hear the baby after? And left without knowing AJ was still alive? Yeah, no. Good riddance. She didn't want AJ around anyway, and even if I killed Kenny because I wasn't trusting him either anymore, I still would have told her to fuck off.
I started this season hugging Kenny every chance I got, but after the whole thing with Jane happened and he hugged Clem I was like "yeahhhh... let's not do that anymore for a loooong time". I felt so awkward man. I still went with him. I guess I needed someone to still be with Clementine, because I hated how they all just... died. What's the point of going on if everyone just die? And I guess for Kenny is the same. Plus I cried so hard at his whole "just take the kids".
The whole thing resolving in a Kenny vs Jane was so weird. They built this whole thing between him and Luke and then it was with Jane? It would have been harder to me if it was with Luke, and not even because I like(d) him, but because he wouldn't have put AJ in danger, especially for the same stupid reason Jane did. I thought that choosing if to sit with him or Kenny was the first before a final and more difficult "choose if to save Kenny or Luke" or maybe with which one we should have gone with, but nothing.
I felt quite disappointed in Luke after the break out. I don't blame him for being caught by Carver, the guy wasn't sleeping or eating for who knows how long, but after that... what happened to him? I understand, after losing so many people dear to him, he wouldn't exactly be acting the same, but... he seriously thought about leaving Sarah like that, and put the group in danger just to go and fuck with Jane. I don't know, there were so many things that happened that made me feel as if I was with Nick instead. When he died at least I wasn't as sad like I was for Sarah, Alvin and Rebecca ig.
Sarah, who we showed how to defend herself and saved just to see her die that way. I'm not surprised she is so hated by the players (not because i agree with them, I just expected it from them), but doesn't mean I'm less disappointed lmao she clearly needed help, but it doesn't mean she didn't deserve it or she couldn't get better at defending herself and surviving that world once she got it. I liked her, a lot, and she was a good friend to Clem. She even told Carver, the man that frightened her so much she just "ceased to function", to stop it when he hit Clem. To me that was enough.
This post is getting too long, so I'm going to stop there. Just one more thing...
What happened to Christa?
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nonbinarylocalcryptid · 2 months
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MAG10 - Vampire Killer
*turns around in the most ugliest coolest yellowest office chair like a Bond villain, petting a baguette-shaped cushion* so, you came here from MAG9 without expecting the whiplash. Don't worry, you are not alone lmao
Trevor Herbert is like a homeless Chuck Norris, a shaggy Terminator, a Van Helsing lite (the Hugh Jackman one, not the original). He looks in your head like the dog in The Lady and The Tramp but in human version.
And the very first thing this mf says when he writes his statement is "I've been procrastinating this shit for 50 years, but hey, I finally came to the Magnus Institute". So better late than never and all that jazz.
Quoooooooting timeeeee:
"I hear someone even made me a page on the Internet and it got a few thousand likes. I don’t know exactly what that means but it sounds nice." - Trevor Herbert, July 10th 2010
Aww, doesn't he sound nice? :D
"Obviously that’s not why I’m here, though, is it? No, I’m here because I have also dedicated my life to finding and killing vampires." - Also f*cking Trevor
Sorry u wHAT
" (...) but I do not have proof to give you except for the vampire teeth that I will leave with this statement." - Trevor "I brought you a souvenir" Herbert
" I killed my first vampire in 1959." - Trevor Herbert, THE LEGEND THE MAN THE MYTH
You wish you sound as badass xD
"I was hit by a stale, coppery smell that I did not recognise as old blood at the time, since I was barely 16 and did not have then the experience I have now." - Trevor, barely 16 but already a poet
I find upsetting how many statement givers were so young they didn't know they were smelling blood.
"The furniture and wallpaper had clearly not been changed in many decades, and a thick layer of dust covered everything." - Trevor, 16, also an offended interior designer
LOL the landlord when he tells you " I just painted everything, it's all new"
"I remember wondering whether Sylvia McDonald walked exactly the same route through the house always, as I saw other clear lines of passage in the rooms we passed through." - Trevor "WTF" Herbert
" It was 1968, I remember because that was the year United won the European Cup, (...)" - Trevor "Yes, I'm British, why u asking?" Herbert
"I do not know if you’ve ever felt your blood being sucked out of you, but I would not recommend it." - By Trevor, 0/5, no stars
"Regardless, there is substantial evidence to support the version of events told by Mr. Herbert in all aspects except the vampirism." - Jon Sims, April 13th 2016
He really said "I believe everything except the vampire bullshit" XD
"(...) It may be that they take Mr. Herbert’s statement far more seriously than I do." - Also Jon
He sees that a lot of government and law people takes this statement seriously and goes "hm how weird, why tho, it's all bullshit"
Small review:
The vampires in the tma universe are so freaking weird, disturbing of course, personally I can't really tell if they are scary tho, but I'm certain they are a mystery.
Gotta say, RIP Nigel, he seemed nice :(
I must admit Trevor is quite an interesting figure, he's intelligent and resourceful, can do much with almost nothing and put together every piece of information he has in a way he can reach a satisfactory conclusion. And then he just sticks with it. There are these monsters, which I know how to kill, and so I do it. Simple. Efficient. Practical as hell.
This is also the second time going clubbing has ended horribly for someone in tma, and honestly? Wtf
This guy just die in the break room, like, lmao. He really said "no time like the present, may as well reach supersaiyan state in that couch over ther", and he fucking did it
And then Jon ends everything by showing a lot of evidences while acting the sceptic part and it's so goddamn funny. He should be a comedian.
General overview:
Vibe: this one is so fucking wild, nice homeless grandpa ends up being the modern Van Helsing and "dies" in a couch at paranormal research institute. Iconic
Horror: there are cryptids in it, that's horror genre coded
Audio: pretty ASMR in general
Humour: hilarious Terminator Grandpa, feat.Jon being Jon
Score: 10/10
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binch-i-might-be · 1 year
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intermission. I'm having so many thoughts but not in the mind to articulate them
edit: it is no longer intermission. in fact I am back at the hotel room sprawled over the bed and kicking my legs in the air like a little girl. but I refuse to start this list over!
first of all, german really isn't the language for the musical, but they absolutely did the best they could with what they had
with that out of the way, let's get into my scattered stream of consciousness!
the lams is blatant and almost ridiculous. the guy playing Laurens only auditioned for the role so he could make it as gay as possible and I am CERTAIN of that. the homosexual gazing in the first song...... the fucking WAY the other guys and Laurens were whispering to each other when Hamilton first started going off and then Laurens stumbled over as if he was working up the nerve to ask him out. THEY KEEP GRABBING EACH OTHER'S NAPES??? IT LOOKED LIKE THEY WERE ACTUALLY GOING TO KISS DURING MY SHOT. HELLO
when Washington first showed up on stage I immediately went "YES DADDY" and I am not sorry!
speaking of Washington tho, he doesn't quite have the presence for me at some points. he's not as intense or consistent as Chris Jackson, but Hamilton and him are so very cute so I'll take it!
Hamilton is. SO endearing. I love him so much oh my god he's such a sweet boy he deserves the world. the actor is playing him so much younger than lmm did. he's so GENUINE. with lmm there was always this underlying weariness, he was weathered and snippy and waging a constant battle, but this one??? baby boy. such a little guy. absolute sweetheart
at the end of Aaron Burr, Sir instead of "who's that kid, what's he gonna do" they say. "what's the little one doing". can you hear me weeping
a lot of the jokes are lost or just don't hit. sad!
in helpless not only did Washington fix Hamilton's cravat,,,,, Hamilton showed him his ring all excited and then Washington PATTED HIS ELBOW as he was walking away. I'll never emotionally recover from this
also Laurens hands him the ring. they did make homosexual eye contact then. #lgbtq
when Hamilton asks for Eliza's hand, her father doesn't say "be true", he says "na gut". which is basically like saying "k". sir 😭
one thing that annoyed me a bit was that they used a lot of the formal "you". let them use the casual "you". come on :(
AT ONE POINT KING GEORGE LITERALLY SAID "LOVE WINS". GAY RIGHTS
every time Washington would have said "young man" he says "my son" instead. 5 dead 21 injured
instead of "at the right hand of the father" Burr says "in the lap of the father" and I?????
In Guns And Ships when Hamilton is leaving to rejoin the army he kisses Eliza and then :( he kisses her belly :( just kill me on the spot
oh at the end of Meet Me Inside when Hamilton screams in Washington's face he immediately ducks his head and WHIMPERS? he sounds like he's about to cry!!!! baby boy :(
Hamilton and Laurens are constantly roughhousing. constantly in each other's faces. it is very lgbt
this fucking shredded me. they changed mom/daddy/pa/pops whatever to the german Mama and Papa. not only does Jefferson say "quick, run to Papa" to Hamilton instead of "daddy's calling", this ALSO means that Philip burst into his father's office yelling "Papa if you'd HEARD the shit he said about you". you don't know real pain until you watch Philip die and hear that boy go "Mama". eternal suffering
Burr was good. I liked him! (yes that's all I have to say about him lmao)
my favourite performer was either Eliza or Angelica. they blew it out of the water
I am saddened to report that making out on stage occurred yet again! the people losing their shit over lmm maybe kissing with tongue during Say No To This would have died. I saw. tongues. I SAW them
some songs really do not work in german. the Schuyler Sisters is usually a favourite of mine but oh man does it sound rough. I didn't really understand the lyrics in Helpless but I still liked it because it's Helpless. some translation choices were wild and it took me out of it for a moment! BUT I'm very pleased to say that one line in Alexander Hamilton I was annoyed about, which was "and I simply shot him" instead of "I'm the damn fool that shot him" was changed to "I was his friend and I shot him". better!
"I'm not throwing away my shot" became "I only have one shot" and honestly I can't say I'm too mad about it at this point
"rise up" became "frei sein" ("to be free") which was a bit. ngl. cringe at times haha
Dear Theodosia hit me straight in the nutsack. I was borderline weeping over it. both Hamilton and Burr were so good in that, the text was very well translated, and oh boy does it hit different to hear that in my mother tongue. shit girls my issues came THROUGH on that one
Satisfied might have been my favourite translation out of the whole musical. god was that good. it had slightly different vibes from the original, but that made it so interesting. the imagery used was impeccable, Angelica's actress was AMAZING, and it's just. jesus fuck I'm probably coming back to that later on. genuinely that version made me tear up it was so good
honestly I would say the performers carried the whole thing. they made it work!
that's all for now folks! rest assured, I'll let y'all know if I think of anything else, but yeah! initial impressions and all that :)
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cornertheculprit · 1 year
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Zak: Well, the prelude may have been longer than the main attraction. Shall we begin our game? My final competition?
Phoenix: Final...? Why?
Zak: As you said, I have come out of hiding today to make this document legally binding. Once that is done, I shall slip once more underground.
Phoenix: ...Without seeing your daughter?
Zak: ...... It would be best if I did not. ...Seven years ago, we played. Seven years ago, I lost. I already lost to Magnifi. I do not care to lose to another. And I have heard that you never lose.
Phoenix: ...It's just a rumor.
Zak: Yes... for it is impossible to never lose. Unless one has an ace up one's sleeve.
Phoenix: ......
Zak: As a magician, it causes me no end of irritation. To think a mere lawyer might be out there, pulling the wool over so many eyes.
Phoenix: Hey... I just signed your document for you. Maybe you could try lightening up?
Zak: That was that. This is this. For my final competition, I will destroy your perfect record, Phoenix Wright. This... will be my final performance. You are warned.
Phoenix: (This guy is beyond serious... So much for a fun evening of cards.)
my brain has been rotating this exchange around like a rotisserie chicken in the microwave for the past few days and for the life of me i can't pinpoint WHY it's driving me up a wall in an insane way so i'm just going to write everything i think and hope to god i hit the nail on the head and scratch whatever itch this is causing.
there's something to me about how trucy was the one thing that gave zak pause while he was planning the trick to abandon her and how he still wears the locket of her around his neck and yet how he refuses to even see her even though she keeps a picture of his face hanging in her home and talks to it every day so she won't forget what he looks like and then the next time she hears about him (presumably from phoenix, because she knew about it by the time of turnabout succession) he's dead. and also something about how zak is a man who prioritizes his pride above all else and how he was vengeful enough to hire someone to plant a card on phoenix so that he could either a) break phoenix's seven year win streak himself or b) expose him for "cheating". he was so genuinely pissed about the fact that a "mere lawyer" (or ex-lawyer in this case) was "pulling the wool over so many eyes" in a way that he, a fully-fledged magician, could not that he would resort to his own form of trickery. it kind of mirrors what kristoph did with phoenix seven years earlier—getting someone else to "plant evidence on him" as it were. earlier in their meeting phoenix literally described him as "dangerous" and zak is literally making phoenix go "hey man...calm the fuck down. lighten up a little" in a way that reminds me of people trying to calm a spooked horse. the dialogue when you present the wrong thing to zak (when talking about thalassa) actually reinforces just how fucking SERIOUS zak was:
Zak: ...Let me be frank. It is true I do not wish to talk of her. And now, there is another I could care less about. ...You.
Phoenix: Ah.
Zak: Take care you do not end up "missing" yourself.
Phoenix: (For some reason, it's extra scary when magicians threaten me.)
and i mean he literally did hit olga with the bottle later when he got pissed again so. hm. maybe what's still driving me so insane about it is that it all comes back to the idea of "foolish pride." because remember when phoenix was talking about edgeworth in justice for all and he said "he clutched onto his foolish pride too fiercely... and died for it" and then remember when trucy asked phoenix if he was so sad about losing his badge because of his own "foolish pride" and phoenix says "yeah that's pretty accurate" and trucy says that zak used to talk about "foolish pride" all the time and in the end it's literally zak's foolish pride that got him killed. he TRULY resurfaced from hiding to pass on the gramarye rights yes but given the context of the situation i think it's safe to say that became an afterthought when he realized where phoenix was and what he was doing and that phoenix was living on the reputation of having a perfect record. and speaking of perfect records!!! how funny is it that phoenix gave edgeworth shit for his perfect record and then proceeded to live on one himself? something about edgeworth going "i will do anything to get my guilty verdict. anything." in aa1 and zak calling phoenix out on using trucy as the "ace up his sleeve" during big games and phoenix going "er... gotta use the resources at hand, i always say" because even though he doesn't do it OFTEN he IS doing anything he can to secure his win streak. he's already sickeningly good at poker obviously (just like edgeworth is already sickeningly good at prosecuting) but sometimes you just need that little extra oomph. an extra resource to use. and zak knows. and phoenix knows that zak knows. and maybe that's part of the reason why zak was so angry? not that he has any room to speak (HE IS ALSO DOING ANYTHING TO GET HIS WIN) but that IS his daughter getting used as a "resource" and phoenix reaping the benefits (little as they may be) with his win streak and maybe maybe maybe that win against him seven years ago was a fluke. maybe phoenix wright is nothing without his luck and trucy. but then the game is played and not only does phoenix discover the planted card he even manages to win the game. zak came out of hiding for nothing and was killed for it. phoenix takes the locket (whether it's before or after zak is killed is unclear—nonetheless, he takes it) and eventually tells trucy about the fact that zak is dead. that he didn't want to see her (maybe he doesn't tell her this—but trucy being trucy would realize it). that the reason he was there was to beat phoenix in a game of fucking cards no matter what he had to do. and eventually phoenix hands her the gramarye rights and tells her the second reason zak was there that night and that doesn't really make things better but it doesn't exactly make things worse either. it all comes back to foolish pride doesn't it. foolish pride foolish pride foolish pride!
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