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radiosandrecordings · 3 years

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Crossposting my @summer-in-the-archives-event fic here too. [AO3] [Accompanying beautiful art]

He’d never get used to the rolling fields of quiet.

Miles behind and miles to go, not that he could see any of it through the thick blanket of fog that clung to his ankles, and his wrists, and his eyes. Miles to go before I sleep…

It was hard to describe the rain that fell, because even ‘fell’ felt like too active a descriptor. It didn’t pour, it didn’t ‘beat down’, it didn’t pelt, because those all required a sense of agency that the landscape just felt too apathetic to muster. It simply existed, and just happened to be moving downwards by coincidence.

Jon wasn’t sure if he knew or Knew that it seeped into his clothes, coating his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the droplets landing, even pinpricks of touch creating too much of a sensation for this place. He briefly wondered that, if he still had need for his glasses, would the rain even make the effort to trickle down and cloud the lenses.

The last Lonely domain he’d passed through, he’d never seen the avatar that lorded over it. He didn’t have any real interest in finding out, not like the personal vendettas that lead him to seeking out Jude, or Jared. Because with Peter dead he wasn’t left with any Lonely avatars left to chase, save the vague notions of the Lukas extended family. He was simply going to keep his head down and keep trudging, hopefully emerging through the thick banks of mist before he lost his mind to the monotony. If there was ever something to make you miss muffled cries from beneath the earth…

“Why are you here?”

The sound was accusatory, and may as well have been a shotgun in the silence. The damped chill was nothing in comparison to the ice that shot up his spine. The voice had no clear origin, no figures even silhouetted in shadow against the overgrown grass, but it came in close, delivered on the gentle, numbing breeze. Despite this, though, never in a thousand domains could he forget the sound of it. Of course it was his. Of course. Of course. “Martin?”

“No! ”

The voice sounded… Angry. But hurt, like it flinched away from the word. Like something that had been left to sit in the dark too long, that recoiled back from a stinging source of light.

“... I’m going to assume no one has called you that in a long time.” He tried to keep his voice light, as much as the stifling atmosphere would allow it.

“No one is anything here. It’s easier that way. If you’re somebody, you can be hurt. If you have too much personality, too many little facets and cracks, things start to snag and catch on it, and it drags you down to where things ache. But if you’re nothing, then they don’t have anything to cling onto. You can just slip away unharmed.” The voice sounded like it was moving, curling around him and moving from ear to ear, forward and back as it droned on in that echoing monotone that Jon had hoped he would never hear again, and at the same time, had longed to.

“And what about the good things?”

“There isn’t anything good, not anymore. You saw to that.”

Jon snorted. “Low blow, but fair.” He hesitated for a moment, trying to summon the words.

He’d had time, after he left the Lonely, to consider his actions. Regret pooled like acid in his stomach at the memory, and somehow it hurt more than ending the world. He wouldn’t say it was more important. He knew whatever he felt, and moreso, knew that one human life, was not paramount to the suffering of every creature great and small, but it felt more tangible. When he walked through the hellscapes, they were dreamlike, hazy, information in such clarity but to an extreme where it still felt nonsensical to perceive it as reality. He knew the fundamental truths that surrounded him but it still felt hard to accept them even as he lived them.

Yet despite having lived without it for eight months prior, the space beside him that failed to solidify into Martin still stung with his absence. And Jon regretted it every not-day he spent walking the hellscape, both in knowing he doomed a good man to suffering, or worse, revelry, in this new world, and in the far more personal, and far more selfish, part of him that missed him so goddamn much.

“But- But Martin, I think I made a mistake.”

“Obviously.”

“Not- Not that. I mean, when we were in the Lonely. The- The first time. With Peter Lukas.” The silence droned on, and Jon took that as his cue to continue. “Do you remember what I said? That maybe you were safer here? And that’s… That’s why I let you stay. I didn’t push you to, to leave with me because I thought you wanted to be here, that you’d be safer here than you’d be with me. But I don’t think that was entirely true.”

“I am safe here.”

“Maybe so. It doesn’t mean it’s better though, does it. Martin, I saw those people, in the last Lonely domain. I know it’s different, they were victims and you’re… You’re an avatar, here, you’re feeding off of all of this, but I promise you they were not happy. They were so alone and it didn’t protect them, it just made it worse. Think about it, the logic of this world. There are threats out there of unimaginable horror, and yet they were still assigned here, it’s their worst nightmare. And you were assigned here too. You’re all suffering, just in different ways, but all calculated to be your personal worst.”

“The Martin Blackwood you thought you knew doesn’t exist anymore. He had to be filed down, too many breaks and tears in him that grew and grew, any time someone raised a harsh word. The best way for him to be protected, is for him to go away entirely. You cannot hurt something that doesn’t exist.”

“Are you sure about that? Because you just said ‘I’.”

“What? ” That anger reemerged again, and as staunched as it was it was beautiful, a return to form amongst the dull monotone, reminiscent of the few times Jon had been privileged enough to witness a truly pissed off Martin Blackwood.

Jon found himself grinning. “You said ‘I am safe here’. Emphasis on the ‘I’. Ergo, you still have some form of identity left, and thus I would wager that the part of you left is Martin. Unless I’ve wandered across some other avatar of the Lonely who sounds like him, of course.”

“You’re always so fucking smug, you know that?”

The voice is coming from behind him. Actually, physically, presently behind him and Jon spins around so fast he’s almost dizzy.

And as much as it made his heart soar, and much as he was glad to finally, finally , see him again when he’d thought he never would, Martin looked… Bad.

His skin had darkened, mottled and blotchy with large swathes of a bruise-like blue or sickly green cropping up across his face and neck, or the parts of his forearms visible where his cable knit sleeves rolled back. It was like frostbite from the cold, or some disturbing onset of trench-foot from the damp, corpselike and unsettling. What was worse, though, were the parts that simply ceased. His hair didn’t even reach the tips, simply fading out into a grey static that merged with the mist, and it consumed his eyes whole, tear tracks streaking down his face in patterns of fuzzy, crackling grey that snapped and popped in the silence, far too reminiscent of a tape.

The sight made Jon’s heart clench like a fist, the combination of relief and horror, and in that moment he understood Jane Prentiss more completely than he ever had before. It would’ve felt like a rude comparison to consciously make, the person he cared for most equated to a pulped and writhing mass that churned out creatures that made your skin crawl before tearing into it. But he knew what she had seen in it, that call towards the thing that fascinated you, despite the turning it causes in your stomach.

Despite this, however, Jon steeled himself. This was rapidly becoming a battle, and he couldn’t afford the cost of emotions. He had to keep Martin, well… Martin. Draw out the emotion. In short, be a bit of a bastard. So instead, he cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you liked that about me?”

He could see Martin’s fists clench, the colour of his extremities dyed black from frostbite. The irritation was still clear as he started into “Fucking hell J-” but they both appeared taken aback as he dissolved into a choking, hacking cough.

It took everything in him for Jon to tamp down the need to surge forward, put a hand on his back and ask if he was okay. It was a strangely mundane thing; the man was made out of static and fog and despite seeming to have an on-and-off-again relationship with his corporeal form, this was the first recognisably human thing to adversely affect him. Why, though? What had Martin done to trigger- Oh. Oh .

“That- That priest from the statement… 0113005? Father Burroughs. He couldn’t say the name of god. Anything related to it, really. And you… You couldn’t say my…”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Martin spat. “You’re not a god or thee god, whatever your new eye magic might imply. It’s just…” He let out a breath that turned into a grumble. While his eyes had always been cloudy, he was now refusing to meet Jon’s gaze.

Regardless, it still drew a breathy laugh out of him. “No, I’m not that far gone into my own self importance yet. But… It’s about the connection, isn’t it?” Something in the conversation had changed, it’s tone or it’s flow, that felt contradicting. Tension coiling up to spring, or they’re barrelling towards a culmination, but at the same time, Jon felt like the wind had been kicked right out of him. He lowered himself to the ground, slowly, settling among the grass and trying to ignore the unpleasant dampness under him. Hey, he could feel the damp again. That was something.

“That’s more flattering, actually, I would say… The Lonely, it thinks if you acknowledge me directly, that would loosen it’s hold on you.” Jon huffed out a breath. “You know I listened to all the tapes. What was it that Daisy said to you, when I was on the run? ‘People say you two are close’? Well, the Lonely appears to agree.” He took a minute before adding, “I would, as well. And, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was too… Too in my own head, before, to admit it. Too much of a coward to do it before that, even. But you need to know I love you. And I know that you… Cared for me, at least? Even if I stuck my head in the sand to ignore it. But the Lonely seems to think you do, still. So will you please come back to me? I know it’s not- I know it won’t be much better, travelling through the domains, but it’s all I can offer and it has to be better than this. I can’t promise anything kind will be waiting for us in London, but you’d be yourself again, and I can’t… Martin, I can’t lose you again. To leave here, again, without you, I’d be losing you. Please.”

“No.”

There wasn’t even a delay to his response, stating it in monotone the second Jon had finished speaking. It felt like ice, lancing through his heart.

“Martin. Martin, please -”

“I said no. I thought you would’ve learned by now; I’m not exactly amenable when you come crawling to me with half baked plans of escape. Because you don’t love me, you love the idea of me. You are quite literally the only free man left in the world and you’re lonely . So you’re looking for a familiar face. Kind Martin, caring Martin, always there with tea and taking your side in every argument. Defending you to Tim when you’d just as soon slag him off behind his back, or on tape. Pretty appealing when everyone else is trying to kill you. At least he treated you like a god before this even started.”

Each sentence felt like another dagger to the chest, and it took him a moment to compose himself, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. Eventually, though, Jon spoke. “That’s not true, though. I- Martin I can’t apologise enough that that’s what it’s felt like, for you. But I need you to know, that isn’t true. A-At the start, maybe, I can’t deny I was stupid and spiteful, but you didn’t deserve any of it. And after that… I didn’t do a one-eighty and decide you were a doormat. I liked you because you were secretly enough of a prick as well. Any time you’d pull me out for lunch when I dragged my heels, or argued back when I said something shitty, that was… It felt like I was seeing the real you. The one you didn’t want to let people think of you as, but the one you were, because despite wanting to appear like the picture of innocence, you are a bitch, Martin Blackwood. And that’s my favourite thing about you. Maybe time is sweetening my memory, slightly, but I truly don’t believe there’s rose coloured glasses here. If we walk out of here, I’m not under any sort of illusion that it’ll be a honeymoon. We will doubtless find something to argue over, if not several, but I want that. I want you at my side to, to disagree and point out all my blind spots. We’re both stubborn bastards but I’m stupidly fallible, and I need you to keep me balanced. I don’t want a yes-man, I want you, Martin, and I’m asking for that knowing full well what it entails.”

When the words stopped flowing, he found himself gasping for breath, sobs building in his chest and threatening to spill over. But Martin was standing closer.

“That’s- I don’t- Fuck.” As Jon looked up, wiping at his own eyes, he could see fog starting to trickle from Martin’s mouth, coming in short bursts as his nostrils flared and chest rose and fell noticeably for the first time that Jon had seen since he stepped foot onto the moors. This caused a conflict of emotion in Jon, because while it seemed to be another step towards humanity, Martin letting the Lonely fall to the wayside in favour of reclaiming himself, it also looked far too close to a panic attack to be something worth celebrating.

“I don’t understand,” he finally settled on, voice cracking on the words. He slowly let himself sink to the ground opposite Jon, knees pulled up to his chest. “I left you. Time and again I left you. I left you to work with Lukas, and I left you when you tried to get me to run away, and I left you when I stayed on the beach.” His palms were pressed into his eyes, mist seeping from between his knuckles as he dragged them across his face, though Jon couldn’t be sure if he was attempting to wipe the fog away, or if he was stalling while he faltered, trying to summon the words. Both, maybe. Jon took the silence from him.

“You didn’t really choose that, though. You didn’t feel like you even had a choice. So Martin if… If you’re worried that I think badly of you for that, I don’t. Martin, I’ve done so many terrible things, so to- No, no, actually I don’t mean it like that. I don’t mean that you’re a good person, compared with me. I think you’re a good person full stop. And I just want you to be able to see that. I know the Lonely is quite literally clouding your judgement right now but… Please, just, just make me a deal?”

Martin’s palms were resting on his chin now, cupping his cheeks and curving around his neck. He nodded once, wearily, for Jon to continue.

Jon drew in a breath “I think I’m in some sort of… Bubble. Like a miniature domain, when I’m travelling. I think, if you agree to come with me, even for a little bit, that might dissolve some of the Lonely’s more adverse effects. Make it easier to think, to, to be yourself without its influence. If that is what happens, and you want to return… I’ll bring you back. But please, just… Try? For me?”

Martin sighed, hands dropping from his face. “...Fine.”

“You- Really?”

“Yes. I… Look, J-” Martin bit back another coughing fit. “Look. I am… There is a lot of me right now that wants to leave. The fog is… It’s in my head, figuratively, probably even literally, but… I remember something Basira said. When she got back, from, from The Unknowing . Melanie wanted to know how she got out, when the other three… When you, and Daisy, and Tim, didn’t. She said she reasoned her way out. So I’m going to listen to reason for a minute, as much as it’s paining me.”

Despite those final words, Jon felt his face crack into a smile. “That’s… Yes, you’re right. Well that’s… That’s a very reasonable connection to make.”

And for the first time in a long time, Martin smiled.

“Uhm, so how does this work then?” He eventually said, hand coming up again to scratch the back of his neck in an old nervous habit Jon could not be more happy to see.

“Well”, Jon said, taking a moment to brush sodden grass from his trousers as he got to his feet, “I would say, based on the dream logic that everything here seems to run on here, it should be rather simple.” He held out a hand to tug Martin up after him.

Martin took it.

It was almost cliché, how the Lonely fell away from him. It only took a few seconds, all in all, for the bruising to fade, receding their colourful splotches until his skin lay clear again. His frostbitten fingers healing themselves, sewing broken skin back together and returning to a healthy colour. His face, too, was returning to its original pallor, the change creeping up his neck and across his cheeks and leaving rich brown in its wake. Dark eyes stared down at Jon from behind long lashes, blinking away the last of the fog. He was beautiful.

“Hi,” Jon managed to choke out.

“Hi,” Martin said, and pulled him into his arms.

Jon just let himself be held in the pressure of the embrace for a moment, before bringing a hand up to card his fingers through Martin’s hair. While it had solidified into soft curls, the colour had stayed the same, bleaching it white under his fingertips. He wasn’t sure if Martin had noticed or not, but that was a conversation for another time. They were both a little preoccupied for the moment.

“How do you feel?” Jon eventually said, words pressed into the side of Martin’s neck.

“Uhm. Strange?” Martin eventually settled on. “It’s… I can remember what my thought process was, what the Lonely was pushing me to believe, but it’s like… It’s like the camera panned out, and now I can see it all clearly, and it looks… It looks stupid. Thank you, Jon. For coming to get me.”

“Of course,” Jon whispered, “Of course.”

Another moment passed before Martin spoke up again. “...Did you mean what you said, though? Or was that… Was that just to try and get me to leave? I- I won’t be angry, if it was, that- that’s very clever, I just want to know.”

Jon furrowed his brow. “Which part do you mean?”

Martin let out an agitated sigh. “You- You know which one I mean, Jon. The- The part where that you said that you…”

“That I love you?” Jon said, picking up where Martin trailed off.

Martin’s face flushed, and just the sight of colour spreading across it made Jon’s heart soar, let alone the implications of why . “Of course I did. I- I’m sorry that you would think I would lie about that, even for something like this. No, Martin, I love you. So very much. And I know you might not feel that way anymore, in which case I am very much embarrassing myself here, but I know that you did at one stage so I hope it won’t make things too awkward between us.” “I do, Jon.”

“What?”

“I do. Still feel that way. I love you too, of course I do. My hero.”

It was Jon’s turn to feel his face flush, pleasant warmth bubbling to the surface. “Oh,” was all he managed to stutter out.

“Can I- Jon do you mind if I…” Martin trailed off again, and Jon began to think this might be a recurring theme between them. He’d make it work. He was pretty good at reading Martin, and the eyeline pointed directly at his lips made intentions quite clear.

“Is- Would just the cheek be okay?” He replied. It didn’t really feel like the time for a full run down on where boundaries lay, but he figured it was a start.

“More than,” Martin said, leaning down to press his lips softly against Jon’s cheek. He lingered for a few seconds, skin largely healed but still chapped from the cold, and it was one of the most beautiful things Jon had ever felt. He slipped one hand into Martin’s, and he felt their fingers twine together.

Martin leaned back, clearly trying to calm his grin into something more close-lipped and calm. “Where to now then?”

“Uhm. Forward, really, is just how I’ve been going. There isn’t any real sense of geography to it, we’ll just…. Get there when we get there.”

“Right. Because nothing can be simple these days.”

Jon missed this. He missed him. But he didn’t have to miss him anymore, did he? He was right there.

He squeezed his hand once, and started leading the way.

#My Post #Jonmartin #The Magnus Archives #I'm maybe pushing this one a little hard but I just. crave validation okay #And I want to see what the difference is between how a fic does as a tumblr post vs ao3 #lets call it science #My Writing #Martin Blackwood #Jonathan Sims

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omegatheunknown · 3 years

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AEW ALL OUT 2021

In which, not to get ahead of myself here, AEW puts on one of the best major wrestling shows in several years*, following the simple yet effective principle of giving the people what they want and sending everyone home happy and hungry for more.

- The incredibly 'Nitro' ending of the go-home Dynamite, which ran a little long on the 'heels beat everyone up and strut around like assholes almost too in desperate need of comeuppance' bit, short of garbage raining into the ring, did actually increase the heat for both promoted matches. Again, not rocket science, but executed perfectly. Catharsis was on the card, and catharsis went over several times Sunday. - Again, it's time to move on from the Casino theme, shuffling the deck and drawing suits really only detracted from the Battle Royale and seemingly always throws the production crew a curve. If they haven't hammered it by now, it's not going to happen. - Bit unhappy about the PAC/Andrade situation, but still over the moon with Andrade's promo style and Chavito being unhelpful at best.

*Pre-Card

Best Friends and Jurassic Express v The Hardy Family Office and The Hybrid 2 (**) - Not usually much to say about a loaded-up multiteam boondoggle, particularly when the show has yet to begin, but there were some moments worth sitting up to take notice -- there's a lot of talent in the ring, even if Jack Evans/Angelico aren't going to be more than mid-level mooks, little matchups with guys like Luchasaurus and Chuck Taylor are opportunities for innovative/weird spots. - Really this match exists to show-off Jungle Boy, play his theme song twice, and work him in to the aforementioned spots. I don't rightly know what Jungle Jack's ceiling is, but it sort of feels like he's plateauing, at least this version of himself. - Dan Lambert thing is interesting in that it doesn't seem to easily lead to something obvious... I mean who are Scorp and Ethan Page feuding with by proxy here, the concept of contemporary professional wrestling? Orange Cassidy and Kenny Omega?

*Main Card

Miro (C) v Eddie Kingston for the TNT Championship (***1/2) - 'Redeem Deez Nuts' T-shirts now available -- and made immediately redundant now that Miro has graciously redeemed Eddie's nuts. - Imagine looking at Miro, listening to Miro talk, and not really being able to figure out this guy is money. Also imagine panicking when he took a little while to find his groove in AEW. 'The Redeemer' is both entertaining and terrifying, and this match delivered heavily on the promise of two big fellas smacking together repeatedly. - Not only does Eddie's arsenal of power moves target Miro's neck, he may also be quite difficult to put in the full reclined camel clutch. Or he'd quite literally snap in half. It didn't come to that. - Weird heel turn by Bryce's attention span and the overall weirdness of the finish is all that kept this from being an excellent match, otherwise this was a tremendous curtain jerker and started off a dangerously fun run of pure adrenaline.

Jon Moxley v Satoshi Kojima (****) - The stakes were nebulous, the build was abrupt, yet this was a fantastic match and tremendous showcase for an underappreciated great who has been more or less just toiling for a bunch of years as a NJPW Dad. Same deal for Nagata, and I assume Tenzan is the same, Taka Michinoku even -- let's see it. - I have to assume the Cozy Lariat might have put Mox down, but Kojima otherwise played the hits (Koji Cutter, Piledriver, Brainbustaaaa) in a big way and Moxley once again proved he's become a very well-rounded wrestler who can match the intensity of just about any former IWGP champion. - More to the point-- KAZE NI NARE -- out of nowhere, too. Or out of nowhere to those not paying attention to the whereabouts of Minoru Suzuki (Right, he's just over here to fight Daniel Garcia and not Mox?), which I guess is to my own peril. Wow, though. Surprise Number 1- a complete surprise, and a welcome one. Let's have it.

Dr Britt Baker, DMD (C) v Kris Statlander for the AEW Women's Championship (****) - I love Kris and her best friends but she didn't have a prayer of dethroning Britt. She got one promo, several weeks ago, and though she did make a meal of Hayter and Rebel, the chase has been abrupt and not given much discussion, other than Mark Henry and whomever else acknowledging what is extremely evident -- Statlander is stronger than she looks, and she looks really strong. They've got her doing Cesaro-level 'modify your grip while holding your opponent's entire weight' nonsense, and it's amazing and scary. - Even with the reign of the good doctor not being credibly threatened, this was an excellent match that demonstrated the continued growth of the competitors in the women's division, even as it underlined that their storylines remain undercooked and perfunctory: Orange Cassidy whipping off his shades to urge Stat to get up was a beautiful moment. Britt's Panama Sunrise, also, too sweet. Statlander eating shit on her 451 and her pendulum moonsault was properly brutal, as were Britt's curb stomps. Really great match between these two. - Again, if they had bothered to write anything into this story, such as Kris' alien physiology making her immune to the lockjaw or something... actually, maybe that's a terrible idea. it's an idea. Undefeated challenger is defeated, on to the next for Dr Britt. Statlander and OC should tag against some of the boys.

The Young Bucks (C) v The Lucha Bros for the AEW World Tag Team Championship(*****+) - Can't not mention the insane entrance lined up for Fenix and Penta. It was bewildering, it was enchanting, it was aggressive, it was hype. It also reminded everybody how very badly we all wanted the Lucha Bros to win. The crowd has been setting new peaks with their volume since Punk showed up, but things were absolutely thunderous and ecstatic at the end of this match. Absolutely valid response. I yelled on the couch. - Nick's facial hair was a bigger tell that it was time for the Bucks to lose than anything else about this build. There's literally nowhere to go from there -- they've done the hair, the bandanas, the kicks, the animal print, the dangly earrings -- peak visual heel for this time and place. - Sincerely thought this was going to be too much of a full sprint spot-fest (the PWG-esque circle of trading blows is not really 'my thing') but even so they kept finding gears, and ramping and ramping and adding blood and brutality along the way. Even a bit of levity, with the tacked up sneaker, followed by the sincerity of Penta throwing himself in harm's way to protect his brother. Immense match, I think you'd have to go back to the Bucks vs the Addiction and MCMGs Ladder War to find a more thrilling tag team gimmick match. - If there's a single flaw to be found it's in the production not really settling on wide angles for simultaneous action at the start of the match. They figured it out. - Rey Fenix is the best luchador in the world.

Women's Casino Battle Royale (**1/2) - If nothing else, this really shows off that they now have a surplus of women's wrestlers who deserve time to hang in the ring. Unsurprisingly, the match picked right up when Thunder Rosa and then Jamie Hayter got to the ring, with additional props to Tay Conti and Jade Cargill, who was dumped rather unceremoniously given her general booking... - Okay, there was something else. Welcome to the rechristened Ruby Soho, who I've not seen a lot of outside of her extremely limited showcase in WWE, but she has so many friends in the back and in the industry and that's never for nothing, not in wrestling, anyway. Intrigued to see where she fits, and if the women ever get more than a match per show. - Touched on this in the preamble but this was the roughest part of the night for the home viewer, just weird decisions on cutting away from various entrances to show... nothing in particular happening. Also while the commitment to not-kayfabing the countdown clock is... admirable? It makes the pacing hinky. - Almost everyone who got new gear for tonight was looking like the white ranger -- Nyla, Swole, Bunny, someone I'm missing. Except Anna Jay, whose stars and glitter gear looked great.

MJF v Chris Jericho for the fate of Jericho's in-ring career (***) - MJF's unauthorized homage to Y2J's entrance: good. Fozzy's guitarist going off tempo with the instrumental Judas: weak, and would've been sad if this were the end for Jericho. Especially as the build has felt... muted, somehow. - Props to the commentary for continuing to feed the red herring of 'in AEW,' as a caveat to stipulation, it did feel like... a remote possibility that MJF would win. - Credit to Aubrey for calling this one down the middle and not putting the fix in for her friend Jericho, and I guess the Dusty finish will give MJF plenty to gripe about. - MJF wrestles with a pure heel style, holds, chops, blocks, and Jericho is fifty years old, so the level of wrestling on exhibition in these matches is well beside the point. It was solid to good, and I was fighting burn out from the first half of the card's level of excitement.

CM Punk v Darby Allin (***1/2) - There are a couple benefits of Darby as a dance partner, and it's certainly better than having to watch Punk return against like, QT Marshall or Shawn Spears. Darby does make everyone look slow, but he can also be tossed around, and this raises his profile even in defeat, obviously. That said, the stakes here are... meta, at best, in that we want to see the man look good and justify the hype. It's a weird thing to root for. He certainly does look good. (Tights? Tights!) - It's fun to theorize about actually booking an angle where Punk is rusty and needs to regain his prowess, and maybe he'll stumble, but maybe the most we get out of that angle is hitting the GTS a little close to the ropes so Darby falls right out of the ring, in what was, for me, the spot that justified this whole match. - Sting's proud step-dad aura is still a hell of a thing, I really liked the end of the match kudos all around. - Match was good, hard to hang my emotions on. I wasn't watching WWE when Punk was in WWE. Definitely feeding off the excitement of others a bit here, and he sure can talk. I'd like to see him cultivate a stable, certainly.

Paul Wight v QT Marshall (n/r) - ...popcorn match? QT Marshall is like the anti-Daniel Garcia in that while his prominence and presence is just as inexplicable, I don't want it to continue, and he doesn't justify it in the process. - Match was two minutes longer than it needed to be.

Kenny Omega (c) v Christian Cage for the AEW World Championship (****1/2) - Crowd was both burnt out and more or less waiting for the post-match angle. Which I get. it's hard to cruise to the main event and having seen all the different things we've already seen on this card, even a singular performer like Kenny Omega and a legend with whom he (surprisingly? fittingly?) has superb chemistry with in Christian Cage were up against it to deliver something memorable. - Context dependent, I can definitely see rating this below their Rampage match, especially since... I mean Christian isn't winning the AEW title off Kenny at this or probably any other event. - But! It was really good! It was very good! They really do match-up well, and Kenny's v-trigger has rarely looked more devastating than when it knocks Christian flat. Christian got cut open in a novel and initially worrying way, and Kenny followed up a botched moonsault with a harder version of the same move off a rail, but it was a really great match and it deserved more energy than was available.

Post-Show - Calling back and inverting the end of Dynamite, The Elite strut about the ring, slightly less stoked than they were on Wednesday, but with the Bucks smiling through the pain, and Jungle Boy once again subjected to violence for his misguided heroism, Kenny 'not much a promo' Omega lays down a killer line about nobody being fit to challenge him who isn't unavailable, already tired or dead. - The Undertaker ADAM COLE, BAY BAY as Surprise #3 was a minor stroke of brilliance, and a fun swerve because while it's exciting to see him, his appearance at this point in the narrative does nothing to solve the problem of The Elite beating up Christian and Jungle Boy. Unless he's still sore about his unsolved murder, which he isn't. Storytime with Adam Cole is back and it's beautiful. Also Jungle Boy died for this. - Okay. But. Just. Okay. CM Punk and Bryan Danielson are All Elite. They will hopefully tag together. Bryan will head to NJPW, almost definitely. Minoru Suzuki just walked in and started slugging on Mox. The Forbidden Door is wide open. Will Kenny Omega one day return to Wrestle Kingdom? There are so many possibilities and they are all very exciting. This was a phenomenal show and it didn't have Hangman Page, Cody Rhodes, FTR, Santana and Ortiz, PAC, Andrade, Sammy Guevara, Team Taz, and the rest.

- Wrestling is good, actually. Imagine watching like five hours of wrestling and loving wrestling at the end of it.

*What competes- WK11, Dominion 2018, 2019, DoN 2019, 2021.. All-In, probably. Wrestlemania 30. A few Takeovers. Kris Wolf's retirement show...

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davidmann95 · 3 years

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holy fuck, four part grant morrison superman/authority mini (bonus points for DILF grey temples superman in the modern day), launching into a tom taylor jon title, pkj action comics, and tom king supergirl? i dunno' about you but this is the most excited i've been about the superman line in ages

Anonymous said: Hilarious that Taylor is finally writing Superman just as you’ve started to fall out of love with him. Also holy shit Morrison writing Superman IN-CONTINUITY AGAIN FUCK YES and he’s using Ultra-Humanite! I always thought it odd that his Golden Age inspired New 52 run left out Superman’s first supervillain. And oh man did you see that variant for Action in July? DC acknowledging Morrison’s t-shirt and jeans Superman again!

adudewholikescomicsandotherstuff said: So Tom Taylor on Superman?

Anonymous said: Taylor writing Jonathan Kent??? No main Superman title???

Anonymous said: Fuck it if ai’m Morrison and I’m writing an in-continuity Superbook I’d fold as much of my Action run back into canon as I could. If Jurgens got to, they do.

cheerfullynihilistic said: So, Jon's promotion is happening bizarrely soon (or bizarrely late, depending on how you want to look at it) after the soft-reboot. Thoughts on the Superman family titles in July?

Anonymous said: What's your take on today's newly announced BOLD NEW DIRECTION for the Superman line?

apocryphist said: so, how about that Jon Kent news that's trending on Twitter?

Anonymous said: With the new Tom Taylor Son of Superman announcement, I have to say that I'm really suprised that DC is really sticking to the new and interesting directions with Future State and the Superman characters. You think they would have backpedaled, especially with the reactions to the Bendis run. What do you think is the reason that DC's finally doing interesting things with Superman now ?

After years of “so they’re gonna make Jon Superman, right?” it comes at last...via Taylor, right after he's delivered his first couple books to really disappoint me. Still, between his enthusiasm, the presence and fanbase he brings with him, and that the pressure on him to give it his all here is surely entirely different from any project he’s taken before, he might just be the guy to put over Jon in the cape as a long-term prospect in a way some preferred choices of mine wouldn’t have been. A Fraction for instance would have done more to blow me away, but in doing a single brilliant run there might have been more of an impetus in the aftermath to go “well, we saw the idea done well, that’s nice, now back to normal”, while it solidly purring along for a good long time with continuous support might do more as a running start to actually put fandom and ultimately higher-ups behind the idea of this as a desirable semi-permanent state of affairs that could lead to way more good stuff later. Put another way, Morrison Batman got us two years of Dick in the cowl, while Ron Marz gave Kyle Rayner a decade of uncontested stature as Green Lantern. Time will tell, but I think Taylor’s often been at his best when writing Superman - the earnestness and awe tends to short-circuit some of his worst instincts, as opposed to how Nightwing is feeding them - so I don’t really doubt this’ll be fun. I enjoy Timms too, and that cover (which thankfully is apparently not necessarily an accurate representation of the page/price ratio) rules. Kinda odd though neither Taylor (nor Morrison for the below) had any quotes to go with these announcements.

As for the other books (other than Supergirl, which doesn’t really have anything to announce):

Good lord that Tedesco Action Comics variant, make a grown man wanna cry. T-shirt Superman getting some proper love! More importantly, glad to see Lois on the main cover and in the solicit apparently ready to throw down with some Warworlders; I got an ask I was going to get around to before today changed the landscape asking about my thoughts on her absence in PKJ’s run. I was going to say that given his space-focused focus that didn’t bother me too much - yes, Ignition would have solved that problem, but you can’t blame someone for not having a game-changing brainstorm and convincing DC to go through with it as the status quo - especially with her playing a big role in Checkmate starting in June, and that I was more put off that the Tales of Metropolis backup specifically intended to spotlight everybody who wouldn’t fit on the cosmic side wasn’t doing anything with her. But now it seems after his initial arc she’s coming into the fold properly, so happy about that.

And hilariously buried in the announcement because it was already leaked so I guess they figured there was no point hyping it up any harder than everybody already had, Morrison’s presumably no-I’m-serious-this-time-you-guys final DC book. Aside from what I had to say when this first leaked, my main two thoughts are:

* Four issues rather than two oversized ones, huh? I said at the time this was avoiding Superman Beyond-style segmentation; ah well. Wonder whether Janin’s doing 30 pages per issue or if there are backups, and if so what those will be (please god, PLEASE, let Morrison finally do the Superman Squad story they once talked about here so I can finally rest in peace). And given this being a little more spaced out, along with notes that elements from this will play into Son of Kal-El as well as Action, I suspect/hope we might end up seeing some of Morrison writing Jon as Superman in here after all.

* This seems...shockingly minor? Not only is it apparently not in the future the way I’d assumed (even if I think the themes I envisioned for it will still largely be the case), but rather than a relatively standalone epic that PKJ’s Action would then draw from it’s instead this that’s explicitly a spinoff of that. Even given Morrison might conceivably want to take a backseat to the new guard, it’s shocking DC would go with it; the only particularly Morrison-y aspect in the description is that, as their final DC project, this is pitting Superman against his first villain in Ultra-Humanite (notably a baldie genius who ended up supplanted, wink-wink nudge-nudge).

Between these, the aforementioned Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow, Superman: Red and Blue, Superman ‘78, Batman/Superman, Justice League, Justice League: Last Ride, RWBY/Justice League, and the newly announced as I write this Justice League Infinity, that’s a damn stacked lineup for everybody with the S, quantitatively and creatively (Superboy being relegated to Suicide Squad notwithstanding) - you can even throw Project Patron on top if you’re feeling greedy. As for why this push is suddenly happening as the last anon asked, I think it’s entirely a matter of the new ownership: it’s easy to picture a fresh suit sitting down with DC’s upper brass and shitting a diamond-hard brick on the spot when told that there was a time not that long ago where their #2 property was being regularly outsold by this guy. Mass-media moves may be expensive and risky (and even his prospects there have clearly changed), but they can throw a couple bucks at their print division to keep churning stuff out in bulk until something sticks to reboot the franchise around in a decade.

#Superman #Jon Kent #Lois Lane #Tom Taylor #Grant Morrison #Superman and The Authority #Opinion

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suttttton · 4 years

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The Sum of Which (Will Never Make a Whole)

Plot twist: I actually wrote two timsasha angst fics for @bookish-bi-christian for the TMA Valentine’s Day exchange. Happy Valentine’s Day, part 2!

(AO3 link in the source!)

~*~*~*~*~

The wallpaper on Tim’s phone is still a picture of Sasha, from a trip to the beach they took together one weekend. In the photo, Sasha is on Tim’s back, her arms tightly crossed around his shoulders. She’s wearing a big sunhat and grinning.

Except it isn’t her in the photo, is it? It’s the thing that killed her.

Tim opens his phone’s camera roll. It’s full of pictures of her, of her and Tim. They were always together, up until the worm attack. Best friends. Love interests.

He scrolls through, anger and grief running through him in equal measure. Sasha had loved trivia nights, had loved half-planned adventures to new places, had loved binge watching murder mystery movies when she was sick. Tim has so many photos of her, and—she isn’t in any of them. Not anymore.

He finds a photo of himself, asleep in what he recognizes as Sasha’s bedroom. Sasha had clearly taken it, and Tim is struck by the softness of the moment, the quiet vulnerability of falling asleep in someone else’s presence.

The next photo had clearly once been a selfie. Tim is still asleep in the background, but in the corner of the shot is Sasha’s grinning face, very close to the camera. A photo that Sasha would take for the sole purpose of sending to Tim to tease him.

But it isn’t Sasha in the photo now.

Tim feels suddenly furious. All these memories he’d shared with Sasha, soft and vulnerable moments together, and every single one is now populated with the face of the thing that killed her.

Tim deletes the photo. Then he deletes all the others, too, every photo that Sasha has been erased from.

When it’s done, he doesn’t feel any better.

***

Jon was always bad at hiding his emotions, and that doesn’t change when things start to go to hell. If anything, he gets worse at it, dragging himself around the office like an injured puppy.

From the moment he steps out of his office, Jon is already telegraphing his nervousness so clearly it could probably be seen from space. He’s got something clutched in his hands, and Tim wonders for a moment where he’s headed, before Jon starts clearly making his way towards Tim’s desk, looking at the floor the whole way.

It annoys Tim, more than anything else. What right does he have, acting like he expects Tim to hurt him? He’s the one who trapped them all down here. He’s the one that got Sasha—

“What?” he snaps, when Jon reaches his desk and stops, still looking more at the floor than at Tim.

“I—here,” Jon says, and now Tim can see that what he’s got in his hands is a photograph. A polaroid. He hands it to Tim, and Tim stares at it for a long moment. It’s a photo of Jon, younger and unscarred. He’s scowling, and standing next to him is a woman Tim doesn’t recognize. She’s taller than Jon by a good few inches, and her arm is around his shoulders. She’s black, her hair falling around her shoulders in long braids. She’s grinning from behind orange glasses that take up practically half her face.

The photo is labeled, Sasha and Jon, 2012.

Tim wills himself to recognize her, to see anything familiar in her face. But there’s nothing. When he thinks of Sasha, the only image that comes to mind is of that—thing.

Tim’s eyes are burning, and he blinks heavily. He looks up, wanting to ask—But Jon is already halfway back across the room, fleeing back to his office.

“Jon!” Tim says, and Jon turns, still nervous, his shoulders hunched.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find it sooner,” Jon starts before Tim can say anything else. “I-I’ve been looking everywhere, but I thought it might have gotten lost when we moved down here, and I didn’t—I didn’t want to get your hopes up, in—in case I couldn’t find it.” He swallows. “That’s her, though.” Jon’s voice is thick, and Tim realizes that this is also Jon’s first time seeing the picture, his first time seeing what Sasha actually looked like.

Jon had also been Sasha’s friend.

“Do you have any other photos?” Tim asks, suddenly desperate, his voice rising with hope.

“I—No, I’m sorry,” Jon says, and the hope sinks until he continues, “That’s the only polaroid I have. It—Everything else just has the, the Not-Them, so—”

“But you do have pictures, right?” Tim says. “You didn’t—delete them?”

Jon stares at Tim for a long moment, blinking. “I—No, I didn’t. I made a locked folder for them, so I wouldn’t—But I couldn’t bring myself to—”

“Show me?” Tim asks, and his voice sounds too much, too desperate.

But Jon just nods, slowly approaching. Tim makes room, and Jon pulls up a chair beside him and opens his phone to the right folder.

Jon starts scrolling through the pictures quickly, and looking over his shoulder, Tim can see that Sasha isn’t in any of them. For a moment, he’s confused. Didn’t Jon say this folder was specifically for photos of Sasha?

Then Jon says, “Sorry, I—I don’t take a lot of pictures. Sasha liked to send me—most of these she took, so she isn’t in a lot of them.”

“Can I?” he asks, his voice shaky. He reaches for Jon’s phone, and Jon lets him take it. He goes back to the beginning, imagining the woman in the polaroid grinning behind the camera.

The first few pictures are of Jon, much younger-looking, back in research. He has an identical expression in all of them, scowling at the camera. But he’s wearing different clothes in each one, and Tim can’t help but smile, thinking of Sasha harassing Jon, day after day.

There’s a pair of photos that were clearly taken in quick succession. In the first one, Jon is looking at the camera with his usual scowl. In the second, he’s turned back to his work, but he’s got his middle finger raised.

It’s captioned, “does your grandmother know you use that kind of language???” and Tim lets out a surprised laugh before moving on.

There are a few more photos of Jon in research, and then one of Jon and Sasha in a dark bar. Sasha’s head is on Jon’s shoulder, and he’s smiling although he looks a little on-edge. Tim looks at the polaroid, imagines that woman in the picture instead.

He keeps scrolling, until he gets to a photo of himself, standing near the door to the research department, talking to someone just outside. It’s slightly blurry, like it was taken in a hurry, and it’s captioned, “new guy is cute!!!”

Tim laughs at that, raising an eyebrow at Jon.

“I told her to stop texting me during work hours,” Jon says, his cheeks slightly dark.

Tim’s not planning to push it any further, until he swipes to the next picture, which was clearly taken from Jon’s desk. It shows Tim and Sasha talking, Tim now seated at the empty desk beside her, just starting to get settled in. It’s captioned, “Who did you pay off to get him to sit next to you?”

Tim looks at Jon, who is now blushing furiously and steadfastly avoiding eye contact. “Was this before or after you told her to stop texting you?” he asked, his voice teasing.

Jon stumbles a bit, and it’s—nice. Warm. This kind of teasing used to happen so easily between them, and now—Well.

Tim looks back at the photo, trying to picture it. Sitting at his desk in research with the woman in the polaroid. With Sasha. For a moment, it seems to stir some memory in his mind, but it isn’t strong. He probably just imagined it. Wishful thinking.

The next picture is of him, his first day on the job. He’s smiling, and it doesn’t reach his eyes, but it’s something. He remembers this.

Everything still hurt from losing Danny, and he was dead-set on finding his answers in the Magnus Institute’s collection. And then he’d met Sasha, and she was friendly and radiant and, for the first time in months, he’d felt something other than sadness and numb anger. He looks down at the polaroid again, imagines seeing that smile for the first time.

She’d smiled like that when she’d taken the picture, saying, “It’s your first day, we have to remember it fondly forever!”

And it had seemed unfair, to get her hopes up that he was a decent person to be around. He wasn’t, not anymore. So he’d said, “I’m not really here to make friends.” And god, that sounded awful, didn’t it? He wanted to discourage her from pursuing friendship with him, not make her hate him.

But she hadn’t even blinked. “Oh good,” she said. “Because, I swear, the people who work here are the most annoying people I’ve ever met in my life. They are only tolerable as sources of gossip, and if I knew you were trying to make friends with any of them, I’d have to never speak to you again.”

And Tim couldn’t help it; he’d laughed at that. It was mean, but she’d delivered it in such an earnest way, and then she’d winked, and… he’d fallen a little bit in love.

He keeps scrolling. There are lots of photos of Tim. Photos of Tim and Jon, with teasing captions from Sasha that make Tim laugh for their wit. And photos of Tim and Sasha, with captions from Jon that make Tim laugh just for the way that the Jon sitting beside him is so clearly embarrassed.

And there are photos of the three of them together, at work, getting lunch. There’s one of the three of them at some dark bar, Sasha’s arms around both of their shoulders.

And then there’s a photo of Tim, asleep on the break room couch, his head thrown back, mouth hanging open in the most unattractive way possible. It’s captioned, “he looks so peaceful”.

And it isn’t like the photo from Sasha’s bed. It’s more casual, more teasing. But it draws up those same emotions, those same memories. Vulnerable moments now populated with the face of a stranger.

Sasha is gone. The woman who liked to take embarrassing pictures, who held the camera and smiled while Tim snored away beside her, is gone. She only exists anymore in one single polaroid, taken before Tim even knew her.

His eyes start to blur with wetness, and he sets Jon’s phone down, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. His breathing’s gone all sniffly, and he can feel Jon’s awkward shifting beside him.

“… Tim?” Jon says, after a moment. “Are you alright?” As if the answer to that question isn’t fucking obvious. There’s a moment of silence, and then Tim lets out a shuddering breath as Jon’s thin arms wrap around him.

Tim wants to shake it off, to yell at him. They aren’t friends anymore, and that’s Jon’s fault, not his. But… They had been friends. When Sasha was alive, they were friends, and he misses Jon. And he misses Sasha.

So, just for now, he leans into Jon, and cries.

#tma valentine's exchange 2021 #tma #tma fic #timsasha #stranger danger #tim stoker #jarchivist sims #i finished writing this and was like #huh this sure is sad #my fic

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queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm · 5 years

Text

Daminette December Day 2: Blind Date

——————————————————————————

Marinette Dupain-Chang had experienced many forms of love. From platonic, familial, and romantic she stole hearts wherever she lay her feet. That was until someone stole hers, they stole her heart and only gave it back when it was broken. Who would dare harm an angel such as Marinette? Why that would be Adrien Alastair Agreste of course.

The devil himself dwelled within that boy. He stole her first kiss, first love, and her confidence in romance. Adrien was kind to others and sweet on Ladybug, but once in a relationship he became someone Marinette didn’t recognize. Possessive, hot-headed, fast to aggression, etc. could all be used to describe him.

Adrien “Sunshine” Agreste could flirt with whoever, have whatever he wanted, voice his own feelings, but kwami-forbid Marinette even suggest anything of the sort. He would lash out in the worst ways, “Why are you so clingy?” He would ask harshly, “You’re always breathing down my neck! ‘Adrien I’m right here? Stop that! Can we go out?’ It’s like it’s never enough with you!”

“Adrien... all I asked was to refer to me as your girlfriend. I didn’t ask for your hand in marriage,” Marinette responded weakly.

“I don’t like labels. You know that. Plus how would it look if I was caught dating a baker’s daughter?”

She was taken aback by that remark, “So I can pour my heart out to you, give you all of me, and all that you need, but the second I ask something of you... you can’t comply no matter how small the task?!??” Marinette was seething, “You would not only degrade me, but my family just because we aren’t as rich as you? Adrien Alastair Agreste, you can do whatever you want! It’s clear to me that you don’t love me and now I’m not sure that I love you anymore either. I wish you the best without me because you and me: don’t exist remember?”

Adrien sighed, “Don’t be petty, Marinette. There’s no reason that we can’t continue whatever this is because you can’t control your emotions.”

Marinette hadn’t said a word when she calmly walked out of the Agreste Manor, she walked all the way home without a sound or tear falling from her Crystal blue eyes. Adrien didn’t even try to stop or follow her. He believed she would come back to him no matter what he did, and he was wrong. Once Marinette was gone, there was no turning back

*Line break*

A year had passed and Marinette had turn her website, “Miss Fortune,” into her own fashion house. Adrien had tried to contact her after he realized she wasn’t coming back, but she had blocked him on everything, changed her number, blocked his number, and moved to a whole other country.

Metropolis had been kind to the French-Asian woman, it had gifted her new loves: her friends. She was blessed with Jon Kent, Felix Culpa, Bridgette Yang, Garfield Logan (they met after he went to visit Jon). She also kept in contact with a reconciled Cloé, Kagami, and Luka. She had all the love she would ever need surrounding her or just one phone call away. She’s done with Cupid. She has no need for him after he delivered her to the devil on a silver platter. She vowed that she would never find that romanticized love. And Cupid, decided to take that as a personal challenge.

“Marinette please,” Jon clasped his hands together and pleaded with the French-Asian woman, “ i’m begging you here, one date that’s all I’m asking!”

“Jon, I’m not going to go on a date with someone I’ve never met. Who do you think I am?” Marinette said while working out.

“If not for you than for me, please! It’s my best friend and I promise he’s a good guy!” Jon was practically on his hands and knees at this point.

“You know how I feel about romance,” Marinette said just below a whisper.

“I know and I respect that, but he could really use someone as beautiful, talented, and sweet like someone like you,” Jon looked like a kicked puppy.

One look in his eyes and she was gone. Rookie mistake. Marinette sighed, “ I- you know what? Fine. I’ll go on this date just for you, but I swear if he is creepy or tries anything, Jon, I will not hesitate to destroy him.”

“You have my word my queen,” he said playfully.

“ Okay Superboy,” she laughed at his remark. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Job and Superboy are the same person.

How was he supposed to have a secret identity when his only protection is a pair of glasses when he’s a civilian? In retaliation she had disclosed to John that she was moonlighting as a superhero as well, Longmu. With Longg at her side now, Marinette became what is known as the queen of the dragons in China.

Luckily, Marinette did not have to make a new dress for the occasion. She had previously made a red cheongsam embroidered with flowers and ladybugs on top, there was a slit on her right leg that ended mid thigh, her hair was pinned back by two black hair clips, she wore black 4 inch stilettos, and had a black handbag with a rose painted on the front. Marinette is too humble to admit that she looked like a goddess.

After finishing getting ready, Marinette had 30 minutes before she had to be at the restaurant that they were meeting at. She had outgrown the habit of being late since she had become the CEO and founder of “Miss Fortune.” this restaurant in particular was her favorite. She’d come here whenever she had the time, and knew almost all of the staff by name.

Being a hero herself, Marinette, had made reservations to be poised out looking in the front door. Having said that she did not expect to see Robin in Metropolis, only to see him disappear and find another green eyed, black haired, gorgeous boy in his wake. said boy was none other than her date Damien Wayne.

The name seemed familiar, however, Marinette couldn’t put her finger on where she had heard it from. In any case she called him towards her table, “You must be Damien! Hi, my name is Marinette,” she extended her hand to greet him.

Damien was taken aback by Marinette beauty, though he’d never admit it. He quickly recovered and took her out reach to hand. He then took her hand up to his face to kiss it, “Damian, nice to meet you.”

After they were introduced, they had fell into pleasant Conversation and were beginning to be getting to know each other. They had ordered their food and ate dessert. Even after they paid, they stayed to chat. Not wanting the night to end so soon, Damien had offered the invitation to stroll around Metropolis city park.

As they continued their stroll, they came across a would be mugger. Before Damien could act, Marinette had already disarmed and pinned the man to the floor. She twisted his arm behind him as she asked if Damien was all right, “Hey, you okay? He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“How could he when you took them down before he had a chance? In any case, thank you,” Damian was impressed by Marinette’s combat skill, but had the question of how she knew what she knew.

Superboy had shown up to retrieve the criminal, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you know I could’ve gotten here before he did anything! You shouldn’t put yourself in unnecessary danger!” He whined even though it was all for show. Superboy knew that Marinette could easily beat him in a fight without kryptonite. Magic is his weakness after all.

“ I know but I had some precious cargo to take care of,” she sent a wink towards Damian’s direction. Suddenly it was 100 degrees on Damian’s face.

He knew Jon would never let him live this down, but what’s this about this not being the first time she has taken down wantabe thugs. Superboy finished his mock scolding and left with the apprehended suspect to the police station. Also, she’s the Marinette Dupain-Chang, “Wait, you said you’re into fashion, right? You would let happen to be the owner of the Miss Fortune fashion house, would you?”

Marinette nodded gingerly, “Yes, that’s me.”

“My brother would die if he knew it was you I was going out with tonight. He’s a huge fan of your work.”

“I’d be happy to sign something for him. And maybe give you my number?” Marinette asked sweetly.

She didn’t know what had gotten into her, after a year of not wanting anything to do with romance why would this guy (that she’s only known for a couple of hours) make a difference. She didn’t know, but also she didn’t mind, “That is, if you want it.”

“Yes!” Damian cleared his voice, “He would appreciate that, and I would be greatful if I could have your number. And if I maybe so bold, would you be willing to accompany me on another date some time soon?”

Cupid looked at the girl how would try and defy him with a smirk. No one can resist their fate. Marinette nodded rapidly, “I would love to, Damian.”

The night came to a close with both superheroes on cloud nine. Something about the other would draw them together. Once each had their chance, they would thank Jon for setting up this blind date for them.

*Line Break*

Two years have passed since their first date, now Damian and Marinette were attending a Charity Gala for Bruce when they came across Adrian “Asshole” Agreste. He had seen Marinette by herself as Damian stepped away to mingle with his brothers for a momment and Adrien saw an opening, “Long time no see, Princess.”

Marinette didn’t even acknowledge his presence, just as he did all those years ago. He no longer exsites to Marinette. Adrien died years ago in Marinette’s mind. She’d brushed him off in search of her boyfriend.

Adrien didn’t take kindly to being ignored, “So that’s it then? You’re not even going to say ‘hello?’ That’s petty.”

Marinette continued walking, refusing to turn back to give him what he wants. Eventually she found her loving boyfriend, only to find him down on one knee in front of everyone. Marinette raised her hands to her face in disbelief, “Marinette Louise Dupain-Cheng, I’ve been in love with you from the momment I laid my eyes on you. Every day I thank Jon for forcing me to go on that blind date with you. You are radiant, brilliant, talented, and many more things. Would you do me the honors of marrying me and adding Wayne to your already long name.”

Marinette’s face was wet with tears, she couldn’t find what to say. All she could do is nod and kiss her fiancée. Adrien was seething, he had lost.

Cupid looked down again, smirking in triumph. Looks like he won against another goddess and the devil.

——————————————————————————

A/N: This is late because I had to rewrite it 3 times. Tumblr kept deleting it and I almost gave up, but I really wanted to make the readers of Daminette December smile a little. I hope you guys enjoyed. 🥺😊

@daminette-december2019

#daminette december #damientte #damimari #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #jon kent #adrien agrete salt #adrian salt #blind date au

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callunavulgari · 5 years

Text

TOP 25 FICS OF 2019

1. these roads will take you into your own country by @notbecauseofvictories | American Gods | Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney | WIP | 33k

Here’s a joke for you: a Muslim, a zombie, and a leprechaun walk into a bar in Misery, Indiana. No one stares, because no one in the puckered, shitty asshole of Misery, Indiana gives a fuck. The Colts are playing.

Heather Says: So. It’s funny that another of @notbecauseofvictories‘s stories is at the top of my list again this year. Keep in mind this list is sorted by when the fic was read rather than favorites (because that would get real complicated real quick). Clearly there must be something about January. There’s just something about the writing that is easy to slip into, be it a Star Wars fic or a Labyrinth fic or even a fic about Johnny and the Devil. This was lovely and I can’t wait until it’s finished.

2. eighteen wheels on an uphill climb by @honkforhankcon | Detroit: Become Human | Hank/Connor | 91k

Hank is going to die. He’s going to die right here in Kentucky, 53 years old, halfway to broke, and tragically sober. Survived only by a nine-year-old St. Bernard and the 31-year-old twink who delivered the fatal blow.

Heather Says: I don’t think that this is the first DBH fic that I sought out after beating the game, but it is the first that I loved enough to make it to this list. I didn’t think that I would go for a modern au for this fandom, certainly not a modern au wihere Hank is a truck driver and Connor is a sex worker (albeit briefly?) but here I am.

3. Fuck pride (pride only hurts, it never helps) by ImogenGotDrunk | Detroit: Become Human | RK900/Gavin Reed | 41k

After the android uprising, Connor becomes a permanent fixture in the DPD. That’s fine. Gavin can accept that. The dipshit’s more human than he used to be, and a decent detective to boot. Gavin can deal with him being around. What Gavin cannot deal with is Connor’s replica; two inches taller, blue-eyed, and with a mouth that Gavin doesn’t know whether to punch or take between his teeth. The RK900 model has been assigned as his partner for the foreseeable future.

Heather Says: I also never thought that I’d like a fic with Gavin in it. But I got curious about all the Reed900, and well, this fic really won me over. The writing is fantastic, and it softens Gavin while still keeping him believable. Also, well, I like the enemies to lovers thing.

4. Almost Cool by @blacktofade | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 30k

While filming the Yuma Territorial Prison episode, Shane gets bitten by what he thinks is a bat. Spoiler alert: it's not.

Heather Says: This is actually the first thing that I read for this fandom. In fact, this is the fic that got me into Buzzfeed Unsolved in the first place. I’d seen a lot of art and gifs and fics pass my way, but I was only ever slightly interested in what I saw until this fic came through my inbox and piqued my curiosity.

5. Pride by @astolat | Game of Thrones | Jaime/Brienne/Cersei | 22k

Jaime didn’t understand why Cersei suddenly insisted on trimming his hair and shaving his beard, but he also didn’t care to fight her on it, even though he’d just as soon have kept the beard: it was bitterly cold in the small tower room with its arrow-slits.

Heather Says: Wowza. This fic was intense. I’ve always loved Jaime and Brienne. I’ve loved them since the second book, which was read at least a few years before I started loving them in the show. Adding Cersei to their dynamic would have probably been almost impossible to pull off if it was anyone else, but @astolat lives to surpass my expectations.

6. Skin and Scales by Ernmark | The Penumbra Podcast | Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla | 18k

The man glares, and this time, Damien is certain it isn’t a trick of the light: those eyes are violet as amethyst. He wears disdain like a second skin–- or, perhaps, like the scales that he is missing. “Lord Arum?”

Heather Says: I was one of those people who skipped through all of the Second Citadel episodes during my first listen through of Penumbra. The stories were good, but the pull of Juno was too great. A couple months after I finished, I went back and listened to everything I didn’t. And let me tell you. Lizard monster. Honorable knight. Bookish girlfriend. Poly. It hit every single button I had and then some. This fic really hit the spot when I ran out of story.

7. someone you like by caela | She-Ra | Adora/Catra | 5k

catwithabat u think ur so hipster but u just look like a lesbian 27m she_ra @catwithabat bc… i’m a lesbian. lmao 5m

Heather Says: Noooot usually a big fan of high school fics. Namely because I’m not in high school anymore and well, after you read so many in your teenage years they sort of lose their luster. This one was phenomenal enough to change my mind.

8. Sands of Time by @tirsynni | Legend of Zelda | Ganondorf/Link | WIP | 98k

Link awakens in the desert with no idea how he got there, to encounter his worst enemy...except it was the King of the Gerudo, not the King of Evil, he faced.

Heather Says: I have seen a lot of really good Link/Ganondorf art over the years, but never really stumbled across a fic that didn’t have judicious amount of non-con involved. But the Breath of the Wild 2 trailer happened, and everybody started drawing really pretty art, so I went looking. And lo and behold, @tirsynni saved the day with this gorgeous time travel/fix-it fic.

9. killed with kindness by veterization | Persona 5 | Akechi/Akira | 52k

Goro can't quite figure out why so many people keep acting like they're his friend. (Or: the one where the Phantom Thieves decide to know thy enemy, befriend thy enemy, love thy enemy, crush on thy enemy).

Heather Says: I’ve read a couple of veterization’s fics over the years, and to date they have never disappointed me. They published this in June, and I think I clicked on it mostly because I was bored and hadn’t read any good P5 fic yet. This was basically just what the doctor ordered, and I was really happy to find something where Akechi’s story went ever so slightly different.

10. paper thin by @ebonybow | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane/Sara | 9k

Shane’s new neighbors are a morning-sex kind of couple.

Heather Says: So I went into this one knowing very little about how Sara fit into things. I didn’t know she was Shane’s girlfriend. I’d never even seen her, but I clicked because I like poly and I trust the author. I was 100% not disappointed. There’s also another fic with a very similar dynamic here, which is also aces.

11. damn.nation, now available on itunes by @kaikamahine | Good Omens | Aziraphale/Crowley | 11k

When lowly tempt-pusher Amphora (formerly of Stairwell 7B North, before she Fell,) gets the notice that end times are nigh, she gleefully quits her job and cancels her Netflix subscription and takes her place among the legions of hell. This, it turns out, was a bad plan.

Heather Says: Elizabeth may have only written one fic this year, but she made it a damn good one. I’ve always loved her OCs especially, so I was pretty tickled that this is 10k+ of outsider pov. Also, demons! Demons are great! This demon is great! I want like 9 seasons and a movie about Amphora, just saying.

12. The Dragon and Her Wolves by hapakitsune | Game of Thrones | Jon/Sansa/Daenarys | 60k

When the truth of Jon's birthright is revealed, control of the North and Daenerys's claim to the Iron Throne are both called into question. To preserve their tenuous alliance and secure her rule, Daenerys puts aside her personal feelings to arrange a marriage of political convenience between Jon and Sansa Stark.

Heather Says: What do you mean season 8 didn’t exist and the show totally ended with a three way relationship between the two most powerful women in Westeros and Jon Snow? Never been a big fan of Jon/Sansa before this, but this is another of those writers that I would literally trust if they wrote a fic about a fork and a spoon.

13. never tell me the odds by @wildehacked | Wolf 359 | Eiffel/Hera | 9k

“I tried Star Wars," he says, adjusting the phone under his neck, "and it was way underwhelming.”

A shaky breath from her end. “Well, where did you start?”

Heather Says: I don’t remember which of @wildehacked‘s fandoms I started reading first. Most recently it’s been The Magnus Archives (more on this later). The point is, they’d written Wolf 359 fic and it had Hera and Eiffel and it was literally everything that I’ve been looking for since the series ended.

14. Find Me Somebody by raiining | Good Omens | Warlock/Adam Young | 11k

“You left me,” he said. “You both left me, for him. And I can’t even blame you, because I’d have left me for him too.”

Heather Says: There was an Art. The art was lovely. So I went looking, because that’s what I do when faced with beautiful art depicting a rare pairing. And I found the holy grail. Like, possibly my favorite Good Omens fic? Ever?

15. flirting with fire by @brawlite | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | WIP | 7k

Steve's a cop, Billy's a firefighter. It's not a grudge, it's just a regular old small town rivalry.

Heather Says: Okay so brawlite has written a lot of great stuff this year (more on that later), but I read this in bed at the beach house this August while I was reeling from both a horrible sunburn and like seven hours of mild to moderate day-drinking while everyone else was still throwing back shots right outside my bedroom door. Jaws was playing on the tv and I wasn’t even paying attention to it, because THIS. Long story short, I’ve been thirsty for more ever since.

16. gold, when you find me by mmtion | The Flash | Iris/Barry | 53k

It's not that Iris hates The Flash, per say - more that she hates writing about The Streak in a weekly, pun-heavy comic based on The Flash.

Heather Says: I never would have thought that a canon pairing would make it to my Top 25 list, but here we are. I like Iris/Barry a lot better when they don’t grow up together and spend a lot of time playing the Superman game, apparently. Also, this was really well-written, and sexual tension has never been something I’ve felt from Barry and Iris, but I felt it in this fic. Just. Damn.

17. never gets old by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger| Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 78k

Falling in love with a cam boy named KingSteve isn't the smartest thing Billy Hargrove has ever done, nor is it the most healthy -- but the good choice is rarely ever the fun choice, and Billy is all about living life fast and loose.

Heather Says: Told you I’d come back to it. brawlite and toastranger are a fantastic team. last year was cherry pie and under the covers, this year it’s camboys and cop/firefighter dynamics. Also, I have a really strange fascination with fics where a character has an instragram. It’s really, incredibly strange. Also also, every time I see this fic title I get that one Discovery Channel song stuck in my head. And no, it probably isn’t the one you’re thinking.

18. ways to save the world by @wildehacked | The Magnus Archives | Martin Blackwood/Jon Sims | 19k

“I left you,” Martin says softly.

Heather Says: And we’re back at wildehacked too! The Magnus Archives was a thing that happened to me. This is I think the first fic I read for it while listening, and it was so very close to what we got in canon. I think when it comes down to it though, I still prefer this fic, even if the ending of this season was pretty fantastic.

19. The Denial Twist by beethechange | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 35k

“This is kind of surreal,” Shane says, taking a sip of his tea. It’s piping hot and delicious, except it tastes like hot chocolate and not like tea at all. “Sort of—Wonka-esque, right? Or Alice in Wonderland.”

Heather Says: While the vampire one is my favorite both because it is excellent and because it was my first, this one was bizarre and sexy and also I read it like only a month or so ago! The dancing was my favorite part, but having dreams to work with made this story fantastically interesting and I loved every second of it.

20. silver in our lungs by taywen | Spinning Silver | Miryem/The Staryk Lord | 4k

The marks had been with Miryem for as long as she could remember. There were a number of them, all the same shade, following one after the other around her left wrist. They were pale as old scars, though they felt no different from the rest of her skin, and her mother claimed that Miryem had been born with them.

Heather Says: I really like soulmate aus. There’s so many different ways to twist them and the way they can sometimes change the dynamic entirely and other times not change them at all is just fascinating. I’ve been hoping there would be more Spinning Silver content on ao3 and running into this while I was trying to decide what I wanted to do for yuletide was a real treat.

21. you got me begging, begging, i'm on my knees by plalligator | The Queen’s Thief | Attolia/Eugenides/Costis | 5k

Costis has a particularly enlightening evening. (or, that struggle when you're a guard who's in love with your rulers and it turns out you would kind of like it if they bossed you around a little)

Heather Says: I accidentally re-read the King of Attolia and it made me consider ships I had perhaps not previously considered. This was really lovely and just steamy enough.

22. something more alive than silence by pageleaf | The Queen’s Thief | Attolia/Eugenides/Costis | 21k

It was a good thing that six months after the king had promised to halve the guard, he still hadn’t done it, because since then, there had been two attempts on the king’s life.

Heather Says: I want to only type the words AGONIZED NOISES to describe this fic because that’s basically my headspace when I get 21k of a shiny new ot3, but I mean. Really. This is super good and maybe my favorite yet? Why didn’t I start reading this fandom when I first read the books?

23. Timing it Right by DragonBandit | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 14k

The dragon chooses, Mark knows that as well as any boy born in a weyr. He'd never considered what that would mean if the dragon picked someone you hated. He's starting to think that was a mistake.

Damien's gold rises at Whitney. Mark tries to make things right.

Heather Says: This should actually be somewhere back in March, but I apparently closed out of the tab at some point. I never really got into Pern much. I have the first three books, but got most of the way through the first one a long time ago and then never picked it back up. I didn’t think I would like this, mostly because of the fact that I hadn’t gotten into the books, but was surprised to find that I absolutely loved it.

24. Keep It In Your Sights Now by LuckyDiceKirby | Shades of Magic | Lila/Kell/Holland | 9k

Holland travels with Lila and Kell. Somewhere along the way, they reach an equilibrium.

Heather Says: I love the new things I’ve discovered during my yuletide trompings. I don’t think I ever actually considered this pairing when I first read the books, but I am just so enamored with the idea of the three of them together. Like, why did I not realize that potential back then? This was lovely, and I loved it, and I want so much more out of this pairing than what ao3 has to offer me.

25. Charioteer by petrichoral | The Queen’s Thief | Gen & Costis | 13k

Captured in battle and stuck in the Mede capital, Costis has given up all hope of seeing his country again. But Eugenides has a habit of turning up where he's least expected.

Heather Says: Technically this shouldn’t be on here because I only read it today, but it was really wonderful and so canon typical. Gen and Costis were perfect in it, Irene was perfect in it. Everyone was perfect and nothing hurts.

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revengeisalwaysanoption · 4 years

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[Fic] All due respect here... (there's no respect due)

Let’s try one last time... I truly apologise if the cut doesn’t work on mobile, I am posting from my laptop.

Enough is enough, they're right. There’s only so much that can be forgiven, before one’s indulgence becomes a red flag. Loneliness is not an excuse, Martino.

“You need to put your foot down” they keep saying. “You need to draw a line and say: this is unacceptable. If you step over the line once you get a warning, but do it twice and we’re done.”

It's just that… you know… He feels so stupid, now? He has been so blind, so naïve and nearly let himself be played like a fiddle. Hurting those who really care about him, and for what? Approval?

The more he thinks about it, the worse it gets. The signals were all there, for fuck’s sake!

Lulling him into a sense of comradery, that he had been missing ever since his friends from high school had all chosen different paths… Yeah, that’s how it had all started. With him, trying so desperately to fill that void. It hadn’t been as difficult as had imagined to bond over incomprehensible lectures, disgusting coffee and eclectic lifestyles. Francesco had been the first to approach him, complimenting his Apparat-inspired T-shirt and asking where he bought it. It hadn’t seen anything quite like it on the Internet, or he would have remembered! Deciding it was best to weed out the homophobes straight away, Martino told him the truth: it was a gift from his boyfriend. Not quite his usual style, but since it made Nico happy to see him wear it…

“Oh man, you’re so whipped.” Francesco had commented, instead, laughing. “But hey, who am I to judge? I’m actually a bit jealous, you know. No one ever made me something that cool. Do you think I could commission him one?”

Marti did, but he had been wrong. Niccolò wasn’t interested in designing clothes for anyone else, and while he was flattered by Fra’s proposal he would have to turn it down. Not exactly a great start, but Martino didn’t think much of it. This wasn’t kindergarten and surely Francesco wouldn’t hold that refusal against Nico.

Marina had literally saved his life, when he crossed the street and didn’t look as he was in the middle of some lovely banter with Niccolò. In return for her heroic deed, he was bound to treat her to lunch. Or a coffee, at least. The way she delivered that ridiculous request, wiggling her head and biting her lips – like a mischievous child, amused by their own audacity – reminded him so much of a certain someone… that he found himself discussing the top 10 TV shows betrayals of the decade (no! they were never going to forgive D&D for what he had done to Daenerys!) over a cappuccino. She might have been side-eyeing him for checking his phone a little too much, but he didn’t really care.

And then came Lorenzo. Well, it was actually Martino who had reached out to him. Who found him sitting on the floor of a dingy bathroom, crying his eyes out. Years ago, he would have stepped out and let someone else comfort a stranger. But then… Then he though ‘what I was the one sitting there? what if it was Nico? I don’t want to think everyone would just walk away and pretend they didn’t see him…’ and sat down next to him. He didn’t ask if he was okay, when he clearly wasn’t. He didn’t ask why he was so distraught. It wasn’t any of his business, and the question alone would have made this guy feel worse. It was a lesson he had learnt the hard way, through his own experience and Nico’s.

“Oi, you got 2 tens or 4 fives? Some spare coins? I’ve only 20€ in my wallet, and that fucking machine never gives you the right change if you put in more than a 10€ note.” He had asked, when Lori looked up.

“I… I…” He had said, sniffling. Frantically, he had started looking for the money and seemed truly sorry he couldn’t help Martino out.

“Hey, that’s okay. I’ll manage. So, what can I get you? You look like you could use some hot chocolate, though I’m afraid I can only find vaguely chocolatey-flavored water, around here.”

He didn’t think he would get to meet any of them ever again, and then one day he spotted them all sitting at the same table. It wasn’t like Martino had ever believed in fate, but that did seem like a coincidence straight out from a Norwegian teen drama. A French romance. Not that he had ever watched either of them, of course. An occurrence meant to show him that the universe had plans, for the four of them.

In hindsight, he should have told the universe where he could shove its plans…

For a while, however, Martino thought there could hardly be anybody on Earth who got luckier than him in when it came to friendship. They always knew where to find the next best party but didn’t mind spending a night in, binge-watching the latest trashy show that had been uploaded on Netflix. Playing FIFA. Discussing politics, and even ethics and philosophy when they were more than a little drunk.

Everything changed, however, when things started to get a bit more personal. When they started dispensing details about their crushes, their heartbreaks, and Martino foolishly felt comfortable enough to share more of his life with Nico. Painting quite an idyllic picture, as complaints and rants about his inability to tidy up a room and tendency to zone out when they were discussing financial matters would only ever be disclosed to Giovanni. Nevertheless, to say that they weren’t his biggest fans would be an understatement.

“Let me guess, it’s Nico. Again.”

“Okay… So, he can leave on read for hours, but starts panicking if you don’t answer straight away?”

“He put salt in your coffee because you weren’t paying attention? Is he… like, five or something? But well, if you find that endearing… You do you, man.”

And it only got worse after they met him, and began spinning a whole other narrative in which Martino was either a hero or a martyr, for ‘putting up’ with Nico.

“Oh, you're such a great guy not giving up on that.”

“You sure must love him a lot to endure all of his up and downs.”

He reassured them all, told them that he appreciated the concern but that they barely knew Niccolò so he wouldn’t stand for any further slandering of his boyfriend.

So they laid low, and stayed quiet, for a while. It hurt them to see Martino trapped in what clearly was an abusive relationship, but there was nothing more that could be said or done about it. Whenever Nico was mentioned, they changed the subject.

Until tonight. Asking them both to join them at a party, and then corner him and attempted to stage an ‘intervention’.

Couldn’t he see how possessive and controlling Niccolò was, manipulating Marti into thinking his new friends were out to get him?

“The two of you, against the world? Doesn’t it sound disturbing to you?”

“Marti, come on, you have to admit that he has controlling tendencies. He shouldn’t need to know where you are at all times, doing what, with whom. He shouldn’t come up and snatch you away, whenever he notices you spend time talking to the same person for more than 2 minutes.”

“It’s like he can’t stand not being at the center of your attention 100% of the time.”

How… How dare they? Who the fuck do they think they are?

“Get out of my face, you fuckers. If I hear you badmouthing Nico ever again, you’re gonna regret it.”

Thankfully, they don’t try to stop him when he storms out the room. The last thing he wants is to end up in a fight, and having Niccolò find out it was because of him. It had already happened once, with Malik and his friends, and… No revival of that was needed, thanks.

Little do they know about their late conversations, when Martino had indeed noticed was off with Niccolò and tried to find out how he could help. Because Marti couldn’t relate to the magnitude of Niccolò feelings, sure, but he had been there the year before. When everyone in Uni had seemed far more interesting that a boy who still attended high school…

Niccolò has a jealous streak, sure. That had been clear ever since he put in his pasta. But it wasn’t the ugly side of jealousy, stemming from a warped sense of ownership over him. It was more like… Feeling like he didn’t matter, of maybe being interest enough to catch someone’s attention but lacking in keep them entertained. Which in turn made him petty, vindictive, clingy. It was only a matter of time before Martino would agree with those guys, and leave him for good.

Marti tapped Nico's skull, then, and said to his brain "Stop with this bullshit. Stop making my boyfriend suffer, you asshole. You know nothing, zero, zilch, nil, nada. You're worse than Jon Snow.” He bent down to kiss his heart, and went on with "You, on the other hand… You know Nico's the best thing that has ever happened to me and that I'd be a fool not to cherish it. So what if he’s got some flaws? Who cares? Not me. One thing matters and it’s this: no else compares. So yeah, tell him he shouldn't worry: I'm not going anywhere."

"Ever?" He mumbled, not quite ready to believe Martino.

"Kim Jong-un, Nico. Remember?" Marti reminded him, smiling as he stroked his cheek.

"Right. How could I forget King-Kong-Là…" That made them both laugh, and they decided not to discuss the matter any further. They were far more pleasurable ways to spend their night together…

So yeah, screw them. Screw everyone who overanalyzes every little thing Niccolò does, who is always ready to point the finger at him and say that Martino deserves better.

Of course he does, duh. Better friends, for a start.

*********************** All due respect here... There's no respect due. So fuck you and you, and you and you. You're cool, but fuck you... And I'm out of here. (Swear Jar, Illy)

#skam italia #nicotino #my writing

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otto-von-stirlitz · 5 years

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Wicdiv #45 notes

I It’s all so... weird and surreal. One last post to honor the tradition that really did keep me hooked on here for years. Something about those 5 years just ending. Having followed wicdiv almost from the beginning, I really feel attached to it and view it through a VERY personal lens of all the changes that happened during those years. From a depressed and passively suicidal 17yo in a highschool, to an almost graduated 22yo, trying to figure out it all with a bit more hope and a bit less of mental health issues. Eh, let’s cut it out and move to a standard spoilery bullet points format, I’m too wordy and pretentious

Of course this issue had to be happy and sad at the same point, as both life and death shine through as central motifs of the whole book, especially underlined here. Two sides of the same coin (no Yavien, you will not say ‘alexa play hyori ittai by yuzu’ to cry over hunter x hunter. no)

You know how as an urban activist I’m ideologically not a big fan of cars, but damn, that McKelvie design! Reminds me of prototypes of future cars I saw in the BMW musuem, kudos for capturing that futuristic tech feel.

I like the subtle implication that Eleanor did grow and change. But then again, she had so much time, so it’s not even that high of a bar.

‘What’s a funeral without morbidity?’ after all those years Cass stayed THE #1 goth of the cast (but Umar gets pretty close with channeling Cam). Yes, I love Cass and I love how after the kiss from #44 we got a whole ass lauracass feels issue, amazing, showstopping, incredible etc etc. You know, Im just a fan.

Gotta admit, reading the issue the first time I did miss that Laura says ‘them’ to refer to Zahid. It really explains why Kieron was so cagey about the pronouns ask back during Fandemonium. They did have time to explore thier gender and pronouns after all of the ‘2 years’ baiting. It’s a win for the nbs (sobs and cries on the floor)

Also goddamn McKelvie really popped off with all the older character designs? All those little details and shout-outs to their youger selves? And all the Minanke practice in drawing basically the same character but as a teen and as a grandma did pay off. And this all while chasing deadlines with hypermobility? Chapeau bas. Although I’m sad that Jon got his fathers aging genes, however his mom looked that age must’ve been better...

‘Every time it rains’ yes A CHRISTMAS SPECIAL SHOUTOUT BUT I AM ALRIGHT I REPEAT I AM ALRIGHT ITS NOT TEARS, IT RAINS (haha both baal ref and fma hughes funeral ref IA M FINE)

Also I’m crying for Aruna, she was in such a bad place by #13 and this issue? HEr new body? The way she learned to mix miracles and songs? And in general finally having this authority over her life? And deciding to use it paritally to help people she often barely knew? I am fine i repeat

Meredith and Zoe, glad to see you and your names confirmed and a confirmation that you were also a part of the Pantheon

Umar’s line about hospitals (and the picture from #16) seems to imply Cass passed away after some illness. Eleanor saying it’s unfair that she smoked and ‘got away’ with it and Cass being prepared she’d die soon kinda ties into that theory? Was it cancer or something else?

Also yeah re: that pic (and the invitation to Was It Cam Or Cass debate) - Umar has two hands, period. And like the fact that Umar literally quotes words Cam said moments before his death in Umar’s hospital room? Yeah, it’s really raining, lieutenant...

Delivering your own eulogy via a hologram is exactly this level of gay panache that Cass would embrace, I LOVE HER SO MUCH. Also being nice AF to literally everyone but in the snarkiest way possible? PEAK CASS. But yeah, something more changed because she wears a white (!!!) shirt. Now that’s a massive wardrobe change

Zahid being one of the closest friends of Cass? I love this song

Also ‘you were never my type. until you were’ should be An Iconic quote of gay tumblr and twitter and yes i will be using it as my lauracass otp tag from now on.

Also Cass focus on how everyone changed themself and tried to change the world, so the future people are born into a better one.

And yeah, same, I also didnt always want to be buried beneath a tree but now as I’m growing out of my old edgeperson ways? It sounds wonderful, I want to be an acorn even after death.

Also yeah, the final themes of growth that takes time, becoming better and finding hope... they resonate with me now, as I also feel like I’ve been through hell for 2 (or actually more, i think) years. But you know, rip to that old me but im different (now). Thank you Kieron for luring me into a flashy colorful YA, then a messed up and depressive story, and then climbing up the walls of hell back when I did. It was not always going to be okay, but then it was okay.

And yes, to the whole fandom, fandom that let me find so many friends all over the world and grow up as a person and have so much fun with our stupid puns and shitposts: I love you. I’ll miss you. (but honestly, still feel free to HMU etc, its not like we actually die. We just lost a source of monthly engagement, thats it. Im just a dramatic lil shit too)

Also yeah, one last word: may Two Slow Dancers by Mitski be the final, ultimate Lauracass song. Let’s all play it now, and cry. No, it’s not raining anymore, I really am crying thinking about Them.

#wicdiv #wicdiv spoilers #yavien rambles

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metalgearkong · 5 years

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Game of Thrones: Season 8 Thoughts & Review

5/20/19 **spoilers**

Produced by David Benioff & DB Weiss (HBO)

It took me a few years to actually begin watching Game of Thrones after it came out, but once I did, I became a die-hard fan, and even started reading the books. This series truly felt like a post-modern take on Lord of the Rings or any other high fantasy properties in the best possible way. The complex and gray morality, clever dialog, intrigue, backstabbing, dramatic character changes, and authentic production vales help make this one of the best TV shows of all time. Seeing the bad guys constantly get the upper hand on people much more honorable and virtuous has a strange addictive quality to it, I believe because it made you hunger for justice that much more.

While George R.R. Martin is still working on the 5th book in the series, show runners David Benioff and DB Weiss quite literally ran out of material to draw from. This was the slow but eventual collapse of the quality of Game of Thrones. Everyone who worked on the show should be applauded for the amazing prop, set, costume design, music, cinematography, and great acting, but it was the dialog, intrigue, and subversion that truly made the show special. Pulling dialog from the books felt like the easy part when compared to casting, acting, and everything visual and audio that goes into making the show. I was a big fan of seasons 1-6 (topped off with the epic Battle of the Bastards), but season 7 and 8 have been nearly unbearable.

From the out of character dialog and choices, to disappointing resolutions, to outright illogical plot progression, Game of Thrones seasons 7 & 8 have been felt like a jarring shift in priorities for the producers. Spectacle and special effects seem to have taken over. Now, with season 8 finally concluded, the final season of one of the most successful and popular TV shows of all time, I can give my true thoughts to how this grand series has come to a close. Unlike many reviews of this show online, I will avoid all hyperbole and exaggeration in my opinions, so as to be as honest as possible.

Season 8 didn’t truly piss me off until episode 3 with the Battle of Winterfell. The Night King, White Walkers, and army of the dead have been the big overarching threat for the entire world, ever since the show began. Part of why Jon Snow was ostracized so much is because he was one of the few people who believed in the White Walker threat. Banding together the Seven Kingdoms seemed like the point of the show, in a way that the petty squabbling, greed, and power meant nothing compared to total annihilation. I thought this conflict would have taken place at the end of the season as well, symbolizing what truly matters means much more than, quite literally, games of thrones.

But apparently not. The White Walkers and wights entirely rendered extinct with one stab of a dagger, their leader, the oh-so-built-up Night King, had no personality, no motive, no explanation, and we didn’t even get to see him properly fight. On a more thematic level, he and Jon never got a chance to spar or have a heart to heart. Jon spent the entire battle either flying around on his dragon, then being pinned down behind some rubble. Arya, who I think is a very cool and capable character, defies all logic and thematic purpose, and flies out of nowhere, delivering the killing blow to the Night King. Not only does she instantly kill him, but every White Walker and wight. Effectively, the writers got themselves out of a logistical nightmare and just proclaimed all the bad guys to be defeated at once.

I don’t necessarily mind Arya doing it, but I take huge offense to how it happened. Her entire story from the show’s inception had nothing to do with White Walkers or larger existential threats. She was all about training and getting revenge on the people who have so deeply wronged her and her family. It was Jon’s story that had everything to do with honor and being a good enough leader to gather the world together to defeat this mythical threat. From a more grounded standpoint, why also, even if Arya ran through a courtyard filled with White Walkers and leaped close enough to kill the Night King, why then when he spun around and grabbed her, did she not turn into a White Walker? We’ve seen this happen many times that the Night King simply has to touch you to instantly convert you. How cool would it have been if Arya, this epic badass, now was on the side of the enemy and had to be put down by the people she loved?

Cleaning up after the battle, Jaime hooks up with Brienne of Tarth, only to immediately leave her for Cersi. Of course, in between episodes, the entire world thought it was a trick so he could get close to Cersi and kill her, fitting with his character and who he’s become to be. But nope, turns out he truly did hit it and quit it with Brienne, and not only did Jaime go back to Cersi, they both die under the crumbling keep. This is one of the biggest character assassinations (figuratively) I’ve seen since Luke in The Last Jedi. Jaimie went from being a scumbag knight to champion of the downtrodden, only to revert back to Cersi at the last moment at the height of his redemption. This season has so many idiotic moments I can’t even remember them all.

I actually don’t mind at all with the direction Daenerys’ character went. I felt it was always going to be her fate as a Targaryan and daughter of the Mad King to massacre people in her conquest for the throne. After she fights her whole life for what she wants and feels she is entitled to, Daenerys finds out she isn’t even the true heir, and that Jon is. The extra frustrating part for her, is that Jon doesn’t even want the throne, and now practically everyone knows she doesn’t have the right to be Queen. On top of all of it, Jon doesn’t even want to sleep with her, knowing she is his aunt, but she doesn’t care, as that’s never really stopped Targaryans before (and in fact I think most of the time they aim to keep their bloodline as pure as possible). All of this lead to her snapping and burning King’s Landing. I get it, and I think its a fitting arch for her character.

I also fully expected Jon to kill Dany someday because she would grow too power hungry. The death itself was underwhelming, but why in god’s name did Drogon not then kill Jon? The Dothraki and Unsullied would have never let Jon live after doing that. And then after everything he’s gone through: resurrection, uniting kingdoms, becoming warden of the north, realizing he’s a Targaryan, he’s sent back to the Wall (and by his own brother!) And I suppose Arya is just Columbus now, sailing west until she hits the back side of Essos. The show wrapped up far more neatly and happy than I ever expected, and it makes me want to finish reading the books to see how the events “truly” happened.

I wont say it’s all bad. I was quite physically on the edge of my seat for every minute of this season. It had my full attention and engagement despite constantly subverting my expectations in the worst possible ways. The season did have some highlights and some stand-out moments, but not nearly of the same ratio as it used to. One of my favorite moments of all Game of Thrones was in the final episode when Tyrion describes stores as what turly brings people together, not war or banners or violence. And as he said this, I recalled all the friendships made or that have been evolved, not only because of Game of Thrones, but other TV shows, movies, video games, and so on. It felt like something right out of George R.R. Martin’s philosophy and I loved that message. But you’re only as good as your final performance and unfortunately Game of Thrones ended on an epic slow death. I love the show for so many reasons but it makes me less inclined to go back and watch it again knowing what it all accumulated to.

5/10

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centaurianthropology · 6 years

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The Magnus Archives ‘Heavy Goods’ (S04E08) Analysis

Half a return, half a delivery, and a new story. Come on in to hear what I have to say about ‘Heavy Goods’.

Breekon and Hope’s story is somewhat what I had thought it would be, but longer and more … focused. Unlike a lot of the Stranger’s creatures, Breekon and Hope had a singular purpose that they followed without relenting. Any time they were side-tracked they were miserable. They have to deliver. It’s what they are.

Or were.

They’ve been doing this for a long time. It started out perhaps during the medieval period, but even then he described their faces as ones that could only be half-remembered. While some monsters started out human, some clearly were always monsters. That seems to have been the way with Breekon and Hope.

They also served on transport ships to Australia, as conductors on trains going terrible places. They moved goods, always, to places in which those people or goods would suffer. What’s interesting is that, although they are of the Stranger (those half-remembered faces), they would clearly work for any power. There was no obvious alignment of loyalty, but simply of existence. Whichever monster needed something or someone transported could contract with Breekon and Hope.

And that’s interesting, as it shows at least some entities to be of a power, but not necessarily beholden to it beyond their base nature. They can collaborate and work together. We saw this in the collaboration between Nikola and Jude Perry, as well, and of course Elias and Peter Lukas. When interests are similar, powers may align and work together.

But Breekon and Hope still seem different, because they weren’t collaborating with other powers toward a common goal. They had a singular purpose, and would fulfill that purpose for anyone who might hire them. That’s doing a job, and only collaboration on the most technical level.

And yet, in the end, coming back to the Stranger gave them more meaning than simply fulfilling a base purpose. Coming back to the Circus made them happy in a way that delivering for the other powers didn’t. And I suppose that says something. The being claimed as part of a power do have that innate draw, and even if they can act independently, the desire to be where they belong and amongst those of their own kind is also still there.

Breekon and Hope were always monsters, so the pull must have been very powerful. After all, they had no draw to pull them back to another life. They had no ties but one another, and they were uniquely melded into a singular being, so that they always had the only thing that mattered to them right by their side.

I wonder if the struggle is much more powerful for human avatars, people with connections. It certainly seems to be. Maybe the transition point between human and monster is simply when someone loses every connection, every reason not to fall in with their own Power for the company, if nothing else.

And yet, even that didn’t lead to contentment for them. Their purpose outweighed simply staying with Nikola to be with others like them. They were meant to transport, so they eventually did again, as Breekon and Hope. The casket ended up being their downfall. They took the wrong delivery, and the casket claimed them in a way they couldn’t break, because there was no one further to whom they might deliver it. They had to keep hold of it, move it with them, until the being that was Breekon and Hope was shattered, and only half remained. And that half was unrecognizable to the casket, enough so that its hold vanished.

And yet, Breekon, the remaining half, fading and losing coherency, had to finish the delivery. Jon was the perfect final destination, as punishment for ending half of them. So he got the coffin, and Breekon … who knows what became of it?

Jon’s powers continue to expand. He can now extract stories from unwilling subjects. Not only by compelling them to speak, but simply by staring at them and willing their story into his head. For a man trying to hold back the tide of the knowledge beyond the door in his mind, Jon is really not doing a great job not embracing all the power at his disposal. And whatever he did to Breekon (or Hope) clearly was extremely unpleasant. Does it even still have that story? Does it even exist without that story?

This is easily the most power we’ve seen Jon display, and as a means of self-defense or even attack, it seems fairly impressive, if roundabout.

It definitely left Basira not trusting him any more than she already has. Her having to reason her way out of the Unknowing has left a mark on her. Her distance is part of her focusing on only trusting herself and her own capabilities. Daisy is gone. Tim is dead. Jon was gone for months. Melanie was unreliable, and Martin seemed to have turned traitor, no matter what he said (interesting that he took her to meet Peter, and she just sat in an empty office for an hour).

She was alone for six months, and as much work as the Lonely has done on the others, it’s clearly worked on her as well. She refuses to trust the others. She’ll follow her own leads, and doesn’t want Jon’s help, and even insists he learn not to pluck information out of the air about her. She knows that the Buried has Daisy, and has ‘leads’ to follow.

I do wonder if those leads involve Elias. After all, if she’s decided not to trust Jon or utilize his knowledge, there’s only one other person she could turn to with extensive knowledge about the Buried. Elias wants something from her, and would likely be happy to give her assistance in return.

It’s good to get more of a sense of where her head’s been at for six months, as she’s the one we know the least about during that time period. And really, it seems that isolation has been working on her just as intensely as it’s been working on Martin.

She’s been waiting and watching, trying to reason through everything. But now, with a lead on Daisy, I think she’s about to act. What that action might be, I don’t know, but I fear that it’ll push her further into Elias’ gravity, or into an equally worrisome path. Self-reliance is great, but if she refuses all help then she’s in as much danger as anyone.

All the characters are repeating the same motif that Jon was last season: to protect the people they care about, they’re convinced they have to go it alone. To figure things out on their own. To refuse to trust one another, and instead to turn to far more questionable methods. It’s ridiculous and unreasonable, and I have to think it’s the combination of the trauma of the Unknowing being chased by the opportunistic influence of the Lonely. And so, once again, I have to say what I was saying all last season: they have to talk to one another. They have to trust one another and work with one another. What’s changed is that Jon’s actually ready to do all of that. He’s been free of the Lonely’s influence all this time, and can still think relatively straight. But because all the others are influenced, he is isolated by proxy.

They were all hurt. They’ve all lost friends. They have so much in common that blaming and attacking one another is either a sign that they’re all as stupid as Jon (unlikely), or that the influence of the Lonely has set in fast and hard in the Institute. Rooting that out may be the only way for them to start working together in time to prevent the next catastrophe.

#The Magnus Archives #analysis

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fanwarriorfictions · 5 years

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One-

A Stranger Things 2 Fanfic

Chapter Four- Part Three

When Phina had gotten home from Steve's house, it was 10 o'clock. And her mother had been waiting for her.

As soon as the door to the garage had closed behind her, Karen's voice rang out, "where have you been?"

On the way home, Phina had thought of the perfect lie, and she didn't even look at her mother to deliver it, "Lisle's. We have a chemistry project due tomorrow and we lost track of time."

"No you weren't," Karen snapped, "I called Lisle, she doesn't even have chemistry this semester. How many times have you used that lie, ten, fifteen? Well I'm done letting it slide, where we're you?"

"Nowhere important," she replied.

"Look at me Seraphina," Karen snapped again, "do I look like I'm in the mood for this?"

Phina's head snapped towards her mothers, "and do I look to be in the mood for this!"

Karen instantly saw the redness to her daughters eyes, the puffiness. Her daughter had been crying, a lot. Karen was in shock, Phina hardly ever cried, ever. The last time she did, was when they thought Will Byers had died.

"Phina? What happened, are you hurt?" Karen's anger had dissipated as she hurried over to check her daughter for injuries. "Did you crash your bike? What.."

"I'm fine mom!" Phina pushes her mothers hands off her. "I just want to go to bed."

The tone of her voice told Karen that she wouldn't get any answers from Phina tonight, but she knew her daughter well, when she was ready, she would.

"Ok sweety," Karen sighed, "please come get me as soon as you're ready to talk."

Phina gave her mom a halfhearted smile as she made her way to the stairs. The weight of the day pressed down on her, so heavy that she almost crumbled beneath the pressure. She almost didn't make it to her door.

Phina pushed open the door and stopped. Like her mother had been waiting for her down stairs, Mike was waiting for her on her bed.

"Where have you been," he asks, sounding exactly like their mother.

"What are you doing up? You should be in bed, you have school tomorrow," she says.

"So do you," he fires back, "you ran away earlier."

"Yes."

He gives her a look, "why? Where did you go?"

Phina sighs, this is a conversation she wanted to avoid more than the one with her mother. She takes off her shoes and her jacket, taking her sweet time before she has to answer. Mike moves over so she can sit down next to him, turning her body to face him. They watch each other in silence, both of them waiting for the other to speak.

"I was scared," she finally whispers.

The look Mike gives her is one of confusion, "why?"

And the one she gives him is sad, "because I saw the way you all looked at me. Because I looked in each one of your eyes and saw fear, of me. Because I saw what I did. I could have hurt you Mike, I could have hurt all of you. I don't know if I could live with myself if I had."

Mike's shook his head, "you would never hurt me."

"Not on purpose," Phina argues, "never on purpose. I lost control Mike. Everyday I find my powers becoming more and more unchecked, and I'm terrified."

"Stop it," Mike chides her, "if you're scared of yourself, how are you supposed to learn to control it. You can't push it away, that'll just make it worse."

Phina let her head fall, "what if I can't control it?"

"You will," Mike argues, "because you are my sister and you never give up, ever. You are the most strong willed person I have ever met and you'll find a way, I know it."

Phina smiles, "glad to know someone believes in me."

He smiles back, "of course I do. You're my superhero."

"And you're mine."

"Phina? Have you seen your brother..."

Karen opened the door to find her two kids fast asleep. Mike was cuddled into Phina's side, her arms wrapped around him. They had fallen asleep last night before either could think of getting Mike to his own room.

Karen smiled at the two, who looked peaceful in sleep. She walked over to the bed and gently started to shake Phina awake.

"Time to get up hun," she said warmly.

Phina's eyes slowly blinked open, taking in the blurry image of her mother, "hmmm."

"Good morning," Karen chuckled.

"Mornin'," Phina mumbled, poking her brother's side.

He grumbled something inaudibly and turned over to the other side of the bed, out of Phina's arms.

"If I have to wake up, so do you," Phina chuckles.

"Not necessarily," Mike mumbled.

Karen smiled at the two of them, "well breakfast is almost ready."

Mike turned his head slightly, "breakfast?"

"Do you like those grapes Holly," Mike asks.

Phina and Mike had both gotten ready quickly after their mom had mentioned breakfast. Phina hadn't eaten since yesterday at lunch, so she was starving, and toast with strawberry jam never sounded better.

Phina was making her toast now, probably a bit more than necessary but, whatever.

"Hey mom," Nancy said as she stood up, "I was thinking about staying the night at Stacy's tonight? We were gonna have a girls night."

Nancy came up behind Phina and stole a piece of toast from her.

"Hey!"

"Romantic comedies, do our nails, gossip," Nancy carried on with a little smirk at Phina.

"Make your own Nance," Phina grumbled halfheartedly.

"Sure! That sounds fun," Karen said, ignoring Phina.

Nancy sat down in her spot next to Holly, "toast?"

Phina whirled around, she was giving Holly the toast she stole from Phina, "really?"

"You made four pieces of toast," Nancy laughs, "you'll live."

"You don't know that," Phina jokes, "I could die."

"Sure."

To say Steve Harrington wasn't focused today was an understatement. He'd been known to the school as King Steve, star basketball player, a womanizer. Well, things changed. And the jean everything wearing, mullet having Billy Hargrove was here to ruin his reputation.

Steve could vaguely hear the coach yelling but, he wasn't focused on that. He was focused on Hargrove, who had been making a fool out of Steve's team.

Billy laughs as he gets the ball, again, "all right! All right, all right! King Steve! King Steve everyone, I like it, playing tough today."

Steve was getting annoyed very quickly, "Jesus! Do you ever stop talking man? Come on!"

Billy lazily dribbles with one hand, laughing again, "what? You afraid the coach is gonna bench ya now that I'm here? Huh?"

He suddenly moves forward quickly, not giving Steve any time to prepare. Billy shoulder checks Steve as he runs past him to score. Steve grunts and falls backwards, definitely not the first time he'd been knocked down today.

A hand reached down in front of him, Billy's. Steve warily grabs it, bad idea. Billy pulls Steve halfway up to him.

"You were moving your feet," he says, "plant them next time, draw a charge."

Billy pushes Steve back down roughly, walking over him to get back into the game. Steve couldn't tell if the advice was somewhat friendly, or threatening.

Steve let the lukewarm water run over his face, trying to somewhat come off the adrenaline from the game.

"Don't sweat it Harrington," Billy said from his right.

Steve's annoyance shot through the roof just at his voice. The prick had been showing him up in every way since he got here.

"Today's just not your day man," he continued.

"Yeah. Not your week," Tommy butts in, "you and the princess break up for one day, she's already running off with the freaks brother."

Steve gave Tommy an annoyed look.

"Oh shit, you don't know," Tommy chuckles, "Jonathan and the princess skipped yesterday. Still haven't shown. But that must just be a coincidence, right?"

Tommy smirks, "I'm mean, you don't seem to be to beaten up about it, considering Carol saw the Freak of Hawkins leaving your house last night. Switching Wheelers, huh? Classy."

Tommy laughs loudly, annoyingly, as he leaves the showers. Steve glares at him as he goes, starting to shampoo his hair

"Don't take it to hard man," Billy interjects, "a pretty boy like you gots nothing to worry about. Plenty of bitches in the sea."

Billy slowly turns off Steve's shower, "am I right?"

He claps Steve on the shoulder, turning to leave the showers as well, "that Phina chick? That's a real nice catch right there, sad I didn't make it first."

Steve's anger flares at the comment. He harshly turns the water back on, his hand stingy when it makes contact with the metal nob.

Phina walked briskly to her bike after school, wanting to escape the place as quickly as she possibly could. All day she had been hearing little comments about her. She was used to this type of stuff, and had dealt with no shortage of rumors in the past, but this, this was different. People had been making comments about her, and Steve. Someone must have seen her at his house last night, and assumed the worst.

She had also heard little comments about Jon and Nancy, who had not been at school at all today and has apparently skipped yesterday as well. Again, the worst had been assumed. This is why Phina hated this place, because everything you said or did was turned against you.

Phina got to her bike and was out of there in less than five seconds. She flew past people who stared and whispered to each other. The lies that spread between them like wildfire gripped at her, trying to bring her down. She drove to the only place that didn't have the pressure of judgement, where she was happy, the forests.

She went out far, parking her bike behind a few trees so any cars that passed wouldn't see it. Then, she went farther. Walking at least a mile into the trees. With her connection to the forest, she would never get lost, for the trees whispered directions to her.

The stress that plagued her lifted with each step farther.

That is, until she felt it. The sickness that infected the earth around her. It was like she had entered a quarantine zone, the sickness abruptly starting.

Phina turned her confused gaze to the trees, which were turning a strange gray color, some sort of weird liquid seeping from them. She took a step towards the nearest tree, her hand reached out to touch it. It was a gooy substance that made her face scrunch in disgust.

The color, the goo, it was all to familiar. All to like the upside down. It was happening again.

"Shit."

The sun had faded awhile ago, leaving Phina in the dark. She had followed the path of the disease, which lead back towards town, but not quite. She had left the forest and was now in the farm areas outside of Hawkins. An entire patch of pumpkins had been destroyed by this disease.

She carefully placed her steps as she walked through the field. The rotten pumpkins were full of that goo and she did not want to get that all over her.

The sound of an engine in the distance simultaneously drew her in and made her aware that she was trespassing. She drew closer to the noise and a sigh of relief shot through her, it was Hopper.

In front of the car, was a very large hole, which had dirt flying out of it in small increments of time.

"Hopper," she asks as she gets closer to the hole, seeing him digging.

He whirls around, "Phina? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she pointed out, "what are you doing?"

He sighs, "investigating."

"Does it have something to do with why all my trees are dying," she asks, gesturing around.

"Possibly," he answers, throwing another shovelful of dirt out of the hole.

"Why are you digging a hole Hop," she asks.

He sighs, she wasn't gonna leave without the answers she wanted, "because of Will."

Phina's heart stops, "is he ok?"

"He's fine, for the most part," Hopper sighs again, this time, more defeated, "whatever happened to you two yesterday has caused him to, act different. He's been drawing non-stop. I've got a theory, and unless you're gonna pick up a shovel and help you can go on home and wait for me to prove it or not."

Hopper goes to dig again when he sees it, the goo. He shovels out a little bit of it, looking at it with strange curiosity.

"What the hell?"

Phina slowly climbs into the hole, to get a closer look. It seemed like there was a thick layer of this stuff, almost like how a portal to the upside down looked like before it opened. Hopper digs at it again, yelling a little bit as if it'd make him stronger. The small hole opens, some dirt falling through it which meant that there was an opening below it.

Hopper hits it again and again to make the hole bigger. He looks up at Phina who has curiosity written all over her face.

"Stay here," he says.

"No chance in hell," she snaps.

He'd fought her on a subject like this before, he knew he'd lose, "fine. Wait for me to yell before following."

He sat down on the ground and slowly went through the hole. Phina looked on worriedly, what was down there. Hopper fell all the way through, giving Phina a heart attack before he yelled for her to go down. Phina lowers into the hole, Hopper helping her down. When she hits the ground, he takes out his flash light and they look all around them.

"Holy shit," Phina whispers.

-2328 words-

Did y'all like that little Steve pov, good way to introduce the rumors about Steve and Phina, which will have a roll later on.

-Morgan

#steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #strangerthingsfanfic #strangerthings #slow burn #one #romance

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justgotham · 6 years

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If you’ve ever watched an episode of FOX’s show “Gotham,” then you’re familiar with the eponymous city. It’s dark and brooding, ever on the cusp of a storm; it’s at once foreign and familiar, sometimes tricking you into thinking you’ve been on of its blocks before; and it’s the award-winning achievement of VFX Supervisor Tom Mahoney and his talented team, one that earned another Emmy nomination for Outstanding Special Visual Effects in a Supporting Role last month.

Tom, who has three Emmy nominations to his name and one win in this same category last year, explains that the visual effects team plays an important part of the storytelling that happens in “Gotham”: “We serve the story. The writers write, and we try to figure out a way to make it happen. It’s all about making other people’s visions a reality.”

I recently spoke with Tom about his latest nomination and his work on “Gotham.” During our conversation, he talked about how the city of Gotham was realized, his favorite parts of the nominated episode, when he thinks visual effects are appropriate and more.

To start, can you walk us through a brief history of your career – from your start in the world of VFX, to being a partner at CoSA VFX, to being VFX Supervisor for “Gotham” and highlights in between?

I got my introduction to visual effects back in 1990 or 1991 when I interned on “Star Trek: The Next Generation” with the post-production department. From there, I was an assistant editor for a little while and found my way back into visual effects working with one of my CoSA partners, Jon Tanimoto. We often found ourselves working for units that were put together specifically for film, and at a certain point we looked at each other and said, “Well, they keep throwing these units together and they sort of ran like small companies – we may as well see if we can give it a go as a company.” So Jon and I got together. Initially we were working on features, and shortly after that, [CoSA partners] David Beedon and Chris Lance joined us. The features market for visual effects in LA kind of dried up with a lot of films taking rebates and having the luxury of longer turnarounds, but TV still needed fast turnarounds. Most shows were still posted in LA, so it was more convenient for TV to use LA-based visual effects facilities. So we made a shift to be more TV-centric. A year or two after we got things going, we were lucky enough to be considered for “Gotham.” Just by luck of the draw, I ended up being the one of the four partners to come to New York to supervise the pilot, and I’ve stuck with it ever since.

How would you explain to a layman like myself the role VFX plays in the show?

Everything is about telling a story. That’s what TV shows and movies are about, and we are there to tell the story of “Gotham.” Now, since the show is based in Gotham City, we are fortunate to play a large part in that since we help provide the city. Early on, the creators of the show – Danny Cannon, Bruno Heller and John Stephens – said that Gotham should always feel like there’s a storm coming. So that was always the directive we lived under for creating the wide shots of Gotham, to make it feel dark and moody. The architecture is very much based on a gothic, Art Deco style to make it feel like a unique place that feels familiar but isn’t quite reality.

How long did it take to get Gotham City right? Has it changed throughout the seasons? I think we’ve gotten a little bit better at doing it as the seasons have progressed. Early on, we did a lot of tests to make sure that the show creatives were happy with the direction we were going in for the general look – a city that was mainly built in the ’20s, ’30s and ’40s, but with a gothic flair. It took us a little while to mix some architectural elements; we did a few test shots and when we had it right, they gave us the thumbs-up.

[Spoiler alert] This year, you and your team are nominated for the Season 4 episode “That’s Entertainment.” From a sinister ice bomb, to a blimp, to gas-induced hallucinations and more, I think my uneducated eye can spot some of your fingerprints on that particular story. Are there certain scenes in that episode that were particularly challenging or memorable for you? I enjoy the shots of the blimp because I feel like it’s really there, even though I know it’s a CG blimp. The most fun shot of the episode is the final pullout when we’re tight on Penguin when he’s in the blimp gondola, and then we keep pulling out until we see the bridge and Gotham City in the foreground and then in the distant background. It’s just a very small, self-contained camera move, and then we make it feel big and grand by adding everything into it. I also like the scene of Jerome when he’s hanging and falling to his death – that’s all shot on green screen, and we create a 3-D version of the alleyway that he falls into so we could show that he’s much higher than he really was. The fear gas is always fun to do. A lot of the artists get to have a little bit of fun when we’re creating the hallucination look because that’s when you get to let somebody loose and say, “All right, make something that looks cool.”

Can you describe the collaboration between your team and others on the show? The writers write an episode and a director happens to get that episode to direct. There’s a great deal of back and forth in pre-production about what we can do with visual effects, what we can afford to do with visual effects, what can be done practically via special effects or if there are stunts that can be done so we don’t have to do visual effects. I’m always a big fan of doing things practically whenever we can.

Can you explain a little more about when you think visual effects are appropriate? I’d say my two criteria for things that should be visual effects are when we want to add scope and spectacle, and when it’s something that can’t be done safely. Obviously safety is paramount, and all the show creators and directors and everyone feel the same way. So if something’s unsafe but we still need to do it, then visual effects can step in. People’s lives are more important than any television show.

Do you have much time to track what your counterparts are doing on other shows? If so, do you notice any trends for VFX in television lately? TV visual effects have come so far in the past 15 years. I would challenge people to say the visual effects on some shows today aren’t as good as most features out there. A lot of the visual effects on “Gotham” are as good as features’ visual effects. I think the disparity that used to exist between feature-film visual effects and television visual effects has become a blurred line. And people aren’t afraid of visual effects like they used to be. You used to go on a show and hear the director say, “I hate green screen. I hate visual effects.” You don’t hear that as much. More people embrace it now as a solution to a problem instead of rejecting it as a problem unto itself.

Is the greater acceptance of VFX a result of the higher quality in general? Or do you think there are other factors at play? The resolution between film and video is almost the same with shows now mainly delivered in 4K, which is the same resolution we deliver feature films in. So there’s much more attention to detail in television visual effects than there used to be because you couldn’t see the details before. The technology has certainly evolved, so we’re able to do it faster. And the artistry has just gotten better. As software and tools have become more available and artists have gotten more familiar with them, they can do more interesting things that no one thought they could do before. Then there’s also the fact that as time has passed, things have gotten cheaper to do. So effects that we thought were only for features in 1990 are now commonplace in TV; they’re nothing you would even bat an eye at.

If you could tell a “Gotham” viewer what to look for or appreciate from a VFX viewpoint, what would you tell them? Without a doubt, my favorite thing in “Gotham” is when we do the aerial shots of Gotham. We do a lot of special, cool stuff, but I think whenever we feature the city of Gotham, those are the shots that I love the most. The mark I’ve always set is if someone who lives in New York watches “Gotham” and isn’t sure if it’s New York or not, then I think we’ve done a good job.

#Gotham

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cathcacen · 7 years

Text

We Could Be Enough

I’m sorry, he writes. For everything I’ve done, and for everything I will do that you might find displeasing, I am truly sorry. I don’t expect you to understand. If you can find it in your heart to believe me – believe that I do what I must for the survival of our people, and the survival of our family. I will sell my soul to the devil if that’s what it takes to defeat the walkers, and then I will come home to you so you might exorcise the demon from my being.

He seals the letter with wax and salt water.

Lowkey Hamilton reference, and also because I’ve had “It’s Quiet Uptown” on replay for hours now.

Now that I’ve resigned myself to the fact that gross boatrutting is going to happen, it’s much easier to shit out a 1k+ word drabble. And I know people give Jon shit for bending the knee, but really - blondie has the dragons, and realistically it’s either he bend the damn knee to get help, or refuse and everybody dies. Sansa’s smart enough to understand why he’d have made the decision when he did.

I hate the crap out of blondie, but tried my best to not make her sound like a self-entitled brat. In fact, I tried not to mention her at all, so this is fairly safe and fluffy!

Sansa’s elegant script has him in knots. He reads and rereads her letter a thousand times, and if he clutches the paper hard and leans in deep enough so his nose and lips brush the words – her words – he fancies he can almost smell her. Like steel and ash and smoke, like oiled leather and fresh bread. In the before, Sansa might have smelt like flowers and lemons and thyme; a lady of her station ought bathe in perfumed water.

But it’s war, and Sansa smells like lye and harsh soap. There are no lemons now and hardly enough spice to make the northern grain and meat more palatable. It’s visceral and honest and by the seven he wants to be back there so badly it aches in every muscle, bone, and limb.

You are my cousin, the letter had said. But no less a Stark to me. You are my cousin, Jon, and I love you. Come home to me. Come home to us in Winterfell, and let us be family once again.

He’d known – of course he’d known. Sam’s letter to him had arrived two weeks ago, and he’d still been struggling to make sense of it all when Sansa’s letter had arrived. She’d taken no chances with the information, and it was Brienne with her loyal Podrick who’d delivered the letter by hand. They’d been enroute to King’s Landing, after all – for the meeting with the Lannister queen.

Trust Sansa to use this as an opportunity to send word without arousing suspicion.

Where her previous letter to inform him of Bran and Arya’s return had been brief and formal, this one, carried against the body of her loyal protector, spoke only of love and yearning. A desperate longing to have him home.

It makes him sick to the stomach, all the more because he’s already betrayed her.

If only Sam’s letter had come sooner, he thinks bitterly. But the deed has been done and he has too much lost time to make up for – too many apologies to make.

He doesn’t know how to word his response. The dragon queen makes it difficult; she’s not used to being refused, he knows, and gods he’d be lying if he’d said it hadn’t felt good that one time. But she’s not who he wants, and the stark realisation of what he’s done makes him reel.

He doesn’t love her. Not in the way she wants and needs, and his dreams are haunted by another. When he slumbers, the lady in the North with the firestorm hair calls to him.

Why, she asks. Why did you leave me? Why won’t you love me? Why am I alone?

He wakes in cold sweat. In the dim light of his singular candle, he reads through Sansa’s words once more. His own quill stops short of his blank parchment; he’s running out of time, and Brienne will soon be Northbound, and with her will go his chance of a private, secure correspondence.

So he forces himself to write.

He seals the letter with wax and salt water.

The next day, he hands the letter to Brienne. The knight looks him over, her gaze occasionally shifting to the dragon queen where she walks alongside her advisors. “If Lady Sansa asks, I cannot lie for you.”

“Nor would I expect you to,” He replies wearily. “Tell her what you will. I’ll bear the consequences myself.”

The walkers draw closer each day. He refutes his aunt’s advances in more pleasurable encounters, but he bends the knee. It’s painful and every fibre of his being cries against the travesty of surrending his – Sansa’s – hard-earned sovereignty. I don’t expect you to understand. The thought of Sansa’s face turns his insides to ice.

He’d kneel for her in a heartbeat, and she would never even have to ask.

It’s nothing short of a miracle that he survives the end of it all. The dragons are dead. The two surviving Lannisters are left to pick up the ruins of their house and family. The seven kingdoms are just that – seven.

His aunt’s remains are buried within caves in Dragonstone, surounded by the scribblings of her ancestors and the bones of her children.

Despite everything, he wants her at peace in death – or whatever afterlife she believes in.

He knows there’s nothing beyond the present, and the present begs to be repaired.

Winterfell is in ruins, but Lady Stark has seen to it that repairs are well underway when he rides in with the remains of his company. She’s waiting for him in the courtyard, and as he dismounts, he wonders how it is possible for a woman to have grown so much more beautiful in the span of a year.

“You bent the knee.” She doesn’t move, not even when he comes right up to her. Her eyes are icy, but then they soften, and he sees it – sees the real Sansa inside.

The one he’s hurt. The one he’s betrayed.

The one he’d hurt and betray again, if it meant her guaranteed survival in the Walkers’ War.

“Aye,” He says. “I don’t expect you to understand. Why I did it, I don’t expect you to understand.”

She shakes her head, and when she speaks up, she surprises even him with how much she’s letting on. “We needed the dragonfire.” Her voice is tightly controlled. “I’m sorry you lost your aunt.” She pauses then, swallowing, before looking away. The words are softly-spoken – almost a whisper. “Did you love her?”

“Not in the way she wanted, or needed.” He’s too tired for games. “I know I don’t deserve you, Sansa, but your happiness would be enough. Your life is enough. And I will spend every day of my life showing you, if you will have me.”

She hesitates, but only for a moment. Standing side by side, it’s all too easy for her to reach for him. She takes his hands; hers are cold, but they feel like home.

“Stay close to me,” She says.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #emmbot writes

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primal--scream · 7 years

Note

I loved that RPS fic you wrote with Toby/Rupert and was wondering if you can be persuaded to write some Luke/Toby RPS? I have a mighty need and you're my only hope!

Here we are again. THERE IS DIRTY RPS BEYOND THIS CUT…You all know the drill, we’re all adults….On with the show…

It’s not the first time a costar has had a crush on him, and it probably won’t be the last, but it’s certainly been the most dangerous so far. Most of the time it’s harmless flirtation that leads absolutely nowhere, except to mutual feelings of appreciation and warm memories. What’s that term again, he thinks? Right, it’s married, not buried. And he’d have to be twenty feet under not to notice how spectacularly attractive Luke is.

With Luke being fifteen years his junior, Toby finds it more than flattering that he can still draw the attention of someone with Luke’s looks. At first he’d put it down to a little bit of hero worship. He’d flirted back, teased Luke mercilessly, making him blush on more than one occasion. Nothing more than a little banter between costars.

Toby admits that Luke is easy on the eyes and working with him has been an absolute pleasure. He doesn’t take himself too seriously and he’s always ready with a smile. Their other costars have started picking up on Luke’s crush, more than one of them ribbing Luke about it. Luke just shrugs and turns a pretty shade of pink. He doesn’t take the teasing to heart and it’s one of the things Toby likes best about him. He can laugh at himself.

When they get back to South Africa to begin filming for season three, he and Luke pick up their previous schedule of running lines in Toby’s hotel room. They’re working through the cabin scene in episode one when Toby delivers his lines as he walks closer, one slow step at a time before stopping just in front of Luke. He stops maybe a little too close, just to get under Luke’s skin, but it backfires. Toby finds out too late that he likes the hitch in Luke’s breath a little too much. He can feel the heat coming off Luke’s body and it draws him like a moth to a flame.

He’s frozen where he stands, Luke’s eyes on his, inadvertently Toby’s eyes drop to Luke’s mouth, he feels himself sway forward before he jerks back sharply. Toby turns away from him, paces across the room. He runs both hands over his head, the sharp prick of the stubble grounding him.

“I should go, it’s late.” Luke’s voice is shaky.

Toby just nods. He waits until he hears the door close before blowing out a long breath. He drops down onto the bed on his back. He is so completely fucked. He’s playing too close to the flame and he knows it. He fucking knows better. This was never supposed to be anything more than harmless fun, but he’d ended up playing himself. Luke would have let him, he knows it as sure as he knows his own name. All he would have had to do was reach out and Luke would have given in. It would have been taking advantage and Toby may be many things, but that’s not one of them.

Neither of them bring it up the next day and it doesn’t seem to affect their dynamic. Toby is more than relieved. They go back to the status quo. When they finally end up shooting the cabin scene, there is so much tension in the room that when they call cut, the crew just shuffles out silently leaving Toby and Luke alone in the room. Both of them ignore the elehant in the room, pretending it didn’t happen. They run lines each night, just like before, but Toby remembers to keep his distance.

Midway through the season a handful of them go out for drinks. Schmitz starts teasing Luke about it looking like Silver may finally get laid again. Toby doesn’t dare look over, he won’t be able to hide the jealousy, a feeling he absolutely refuses to acknowledge or examine, so instead he takes a long pull from the bottle in his hand. When he sets it back down Luke is looking right at him, eyes considering. They spend a good four hours at the bar, people trickling out and back to their rooms one at time until it’s just the two of them, both of them having had more to drink than they should.

Luke doesn’t say anything, he just watches Toby’s every move with glassy eyes. They finish their drinks and when Luke gets up he sways on his feet. Toby catches him, his arm around Luke’s waist. Luke leans into him with a lopsided smile, his hands clutching at Toby’s shirt.

Toby manages to get them outside and into a cab, Luke slumped against him the whole way. He tilts his head up and back, his lips almost pressed against Toby’s throat, “And what does Captain Flint think of Silver’s new love interest?”

Toby shivers as Luke’s hot, damp breath slides across his collarbone, “Captain Flint wants whatever will make Silver happy.”

Before Luke can say any more the cab pulls up in front of the hotel and Toby manages to get Luke out of the car and up to his room without dropping him.

Luke is barely conscious by the time the door closes behind them, so Toby gets him down to his briefs and tucks him into bed. He’s halfway across the room when Luke’s voice stops him.

“I wanted it to be you.”

Toby stops and turns around, “What?”

“When Jon told me Silver was getting a love interest. I wanted it to be you. I just wanted to be able to kiss you, even if it was only once.” Luke is asleep before his next breath saving Toby from having to answer.

The next day Luke doesn’t remember and Toby can’t forget. Toby spends the next several weeks in a constant state of repressed arousal refusing to acknowledge the reason why. It comes to a head sooner rather than later and Toby realizes he should have seen it coming from a mile away.

They’re running lines for episode nine and Toby can barely believe the words coming out of his mouth, there’s subtext and then there’s this particular chunk of dialogue.

“I can’t tell if this was a warning, or a welcome.” Luke’s voice is soft, subdued and it makes Toby’s hair stand on end.

Toby won’t be able to ever figure out what possesses him to do it, but he says, “Oh, you can bet your ass it’s a fucking welcome.”

Luke startles, his mouth opening but Toby gets there first. He cradles Luke's head in his hand and slides his tongue across Luke’s bottom lip before licking into his mouth. Toby hears Luke’s script drop to the floor before he yanks Toby closer. Their bodies connect and Luke moans into his mouth. Toby sinks his hands into Luke’s hair and it’s every bit as soft as he’d thought it would be.

Luke sucks his tongue into his mouth and Toby moans at the feel of it. The kiss is electric, fire licks up his spine at the feel Luke’s body pressed to his. Arousal unfurls in his stomach. He can feel himself starting to get hard as Luke rubs against him. He licks over Luke’s teeth before pulling back, his beard catching and dragging along Luke’s. He licks down Luke’s neck and Luke gasps when Toby’s teeth sink in. He leans back and opens his mouth to say something, anything but then Luke sinks to his knees, his hands tearing at Toby’s pants.

He gets Toby’s pants down and then he’s licking across the head of Toby’s cock. Toby’s hips jerk forward his cock skidding across Luke’s cheek before Luke takes him in his hand. He licks slowly down one side, swirls his tongue at the base and licks just as slowly up the other side. He slides the tip along his lower lip, his eyes looking up to meet Toby’s before he wraps his lips around the head and scrapes his teeth delicately over the spongy head.

Luke hums around him, his eyes sliding closed, the purest look of pleasure Toby has ever seen slides across his features. Luke licks and sucks at him, taking him down inch by slow inch like Toby is the best lolly Luke has ever had. Toby’s knees are already threatening to give out, his blood is pounding in his ears and his cock is throbbing in time to the fast beat of his heart.

”God, your mouth.” Toby pants. Luke’s mouth is wet and hot and so fucking perfect it makes his head spin.

He presses his fingers to the sides of Luke’s cheeks, he can feel his cock through the thin skin. Toby can’t stop himself from thrusting forward, seeing just how far Luke can take him. He feels rather hears Luke moan and it sends goosebumps up his arms. His hands cup Luke’s head, holding him still as he fucks in slowly, carefully.

Luke just opens wider, drops his adam’s apple and lets Toby sink into the back of his throat. He swallows thickly around the head of Toby’s cock and Toby full body shudders, a moan breaking free at the tight squeeze of it. Toby reaches down, thumbs at Luke’s bottom lip, he’s breathing through his nose, hard, hot puffs of air against Toby’s knuckles, his eyes are glazed over as he looks up.

“You’re so fucking pretty. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about this. Having your soft mouth wrapped around my cock.” Luke’s eyelashes flutter, his pupils dilating even further. “You like that don’t you? You like knowing I’ve thought about it, knowing I wanted it.”

He pulls out and Luke whimpers, “Don’t worry, baby, I’m coming right back.” He pushes back in, cuts off Luke’s air, grinds his hips forward in slow circles before pulling back out. He fucks in and out fast, spit gathering at the corners of Luke’s mouth, leaking out and getting caught in his beard, making it shine in the lamplight. The sound of Toby fucking his throat is loud and only adds to the mind blowing pleasure he’s taking from Luke’s mouth.

Luke’s eyes have fallen closed, a look of utter contentment on his face. When Toby looks down he sees the obscene bulge in Luke’s shorts and he wants to get his hands on Luke’s cock, wants to feel him, he wants to taste him.

Toby holds Luke’s chin, pulls his jaw down so he can see his cock resting on Luke’s tongue. Luke stokes the underside of his cock with the tip of his tongue as Toby watches, he feels his cock twitch, sees it jerk in Luke’s mouth. He pushes in and Luke closes around him again.

Toby’s hands slide into Luke’s hair to hold his head as he fucks in and out quickly, building a fast rhythm. He can’t take his eyes off of Luke’s face. His lips are swollen, wet and red, eyes hazy, the blue barely visible. He feels his balls start to draw up, his fingers tighten in Luke’s hair, he pushes in three more times, starts to pull out but Luke’s hands grip the back of his thighs. He holds Toby still and bobs his head fast, takes him all the way in. Luke swallows around him convulsively, his throat squeezing rhythmically. Toby gasps and curls over Luke’s head, his brain shorting out as he comes down Luke’s throat. He can’t breathe, can’t think, his knees lock, legs shaking. He feels like he’s on fire from the inside out.

Luke milks him through it, his tongue circling over the head gently as Toby finally pulls out, cock spent and softening. “Fuck.”

Toby steps back, he can feel the flush on his face, hear his heart pounding in his ears. Before he can say anything Luke is standing and backing toward the door rubbing his mouth and chin on his sleeve, a dark wet spot on his pants spreading across his groin. His hands are shaking as he holds them out, “I’m sorry. Fuck. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should go.”

“Wait, just…wait a second. Jesus, let me catch my breath.”

Luke won’t meet his eyes as he stands stock still. Toby heaves in a few more centering breaths before saying, “Come here.”

Toby pulls him forward, wraps his arms around Luke’s shoulders. Luke shudders against him. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey, come on now, none of that. There’s nothing to be sorry for. Did you enjoy it?”

“Fuck yes.” The answer is muffled in Toby’s shoulder.

“Then stop apologizing.” He pulls Luke’s head back and kisses him, the taste of himself on Luke’s tongue has his cock twitching with renewed interest. “Maybe next time you’ll let me return the favor.” Luke chokes on a breath, his cheeks flushing. Toby knows he should send Luke back to his own room, but it’s not what he does.

#rps #la/ts #luke #toby #whoops

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