#like bro you’re allowed to feel. you’re also a champion at being in the moment when needed and processing emotions after the fact. like for

[smolbasilboy]

woag it’s sad girl beat yourself up hours over here

[fuckyeahprodigalson]

(SPOILERS)

TVLINE | Even though this episode ends with a cliffhanger, it felt — to me, at least — like it also worked as a series finale. As you wrote and produced it, were you planning the episode as a potential series ender? FEDAK | No. We were approaching it as, “What’s the most exciting way to end Season 2?” We also feel, like you do, that it is not a series finale that doesn’t work because we’ve been cancelled. It still does work… This isn’t like ALF being captured by the government before they were cancelled. It’s still a good and exciting story. SKLAVER | What COVID taught us is that you’re never sure what tomorrow is going to bring. When we knew Fox had ordered 13 episodes, we needed each one to feel like a finale. If we were only able to produce 11 episodes, then it would end with Martin in Vivian’s car, and that would be cool. If it could only be 12, then it would end with Martin and Bright on a sea boat, and that seemed like a pretty great finale. We kept pushing the bar and putting ourselves in these crazier and crazier situations. The finale really feels like we’ve earned everything that happens in that moment, but it’s pretty crazy to know, in 13 episodes, we were able to tell this story. We found it very satisfying. We have a whole Season 3 story locked and loaded, and we don’t want to stop telling this story. But we’re feeling good about how this ended on Fox. FEDAK | If you’re a network out there looking for a story, we have one. It’s ready to go. Sam and Chris will get on the phone. I feel like a rug salesman. “Come on down to Crazy Chris’s!” SKLAVER | I know. The fans are working so hard to get our show renewed. I feel like I need to do my part, as well.

TVLINE | To that end, what can you say about what was in store for Season 3? SKLAVER | Without sharing too much, it was going to be the best season of television ever produced. FEDAK | That’s true. That’s true. SKLAVER | [Laughs] No, we have a really fun Season 3 pitch. We don’t want to give too much of it away because we’re still hopeful of being able to tell that story. But Bright stabbing Martin at the end wasn’t going to make anyone’s life easier, and I think our show flourishes when all of our characters face adversity. Bright and Dani just kissed, but they’re not going to be able to get past this. Gil and Jessica are in a good place. There’s so many places that we could jump off from the ending of this season, and that’s what’s so exciting for us. FEDAK | And on a technical level, our plan was to include Michael Sheen in Season 3, so that gives you a little bit of insight into where we were going. He was definitely going to be a part of the show.

TVLINE | To what degree are conversations happening about bringing the show somewhere else? FEDAK | It’s not really Sam and I having those discussions. Those conversations are being had. I can’t speak to them, because it’s more of a studio thing. The one thing we’ll say is Warner Bros. has been an incredible advocate for the show. They’ve been great to us, and they’ve been very supportive, and they love the show. And Fox loves the show, too. The executives that bought the show and championed the show were all advocates and all gutted by the situation we’ve found ourselves in. So we’re hopeful, but it’s a studio thing now.

TVLINE | Assuming this episode does stand as the series finale, is there an interpretation of that final scene you want fans to have? Like, should we assume Martin dies in those woods? FEDAK | I like open-ended finales, but then again, I know there’s Chuck fans that still want to kill me. [Laughs] SKLAVER | Chris and I are both pleasers, as a personality trait. I would just like fans to be very happy with this finale. However they want Martin to be at the end — I know how I imagine Martin being in the end, but I don’t want to say something that makes someone less happy, you know what I mean? [Laughs] FEDAK | What a wimp. SKLAVER | No! I just want people to be happy when a son stabs his father in the gut. I hope that sparks joy for someone. [Laughs] I guess it is an open-ended finale, but I’m very happy with it, and I hope people are happy with it, as well.

TVLINE | So much of this finale centers on Martin’s capacity to change. Did either of you believe he truly could? Or did he simply want to believe he could change? SKLAVER | I’ll just say it: Even if Martin can change, he killed 23 people. And he can’t be in this world. That’s not up for debate. While the son in Bright wants to believe his father doesn’t have this darkness in him anymore, the profiler and the FBI agent knows, like Bright says, that Martin isn’t for this world. It’s not up to them to decide if Martin is allowed to be out. FEDAK | I totally disagree with Sam. [Laughs] I’d like to advocate for the serial killer in this version of the story. Can Martin change? I think the answer is kind of yes, maybe. But he is a psychopath. Michael [Sheen] had a very interesting take on this, even from the beginning of the show, which is that he can make the world what he wants it to be. It’s not like he feels tied to those 23 murders. He’s made a decision over time to say, “I’m not this person anymore.” But that doesn’t mean he can actually control it totally.

TVLINE | And a few scenes earlier, we see Martin come out of that cabin, having hurt The Woodsman, and he looks exhilarated by what he’s just done. Is that the moment when Bright realizes, “This is a lost cause”? SKLAVER | The scene before that is, in my opinion, one of the most interesting scenes we’ve ever done on our show, where Bright has to convince his father to hurt someone, when all Martin is telling us is that he doesn’t want to do that. It’s akin to forcing someone in recovery to take a drink. That scene is as consequential as what happens afterward. I’m not sure if Martin walks out of there exhilarated, in my mind, although he is in a place. He’s under a spell. But it’s a spell that, in some ways, Bright pushed him toward. There’s the reading you had, which is very valid, that this man will never change. But there’s also the reading of, “This man is in this space because I pushed him there,” and how that could affect Bright going forward is a very interesting story to me. FEDAK | You could look at that final confrontation, and Martin is so upset with his son, not only for calling the police but for getting him to hurt somebody. And you kind of understand why he’s mad! In a way, he’s been betrayed. SKLAVER | Bright wasn’t the best son. He was the best profiler. He found Jeannie Larkin and saved the girl. And that’s the problem with Bright: He’s always been a son and a profiler. And the need to save a life caused him to be a bad son, for sure.

TVLINE | Looking back on this season, was there anything else — a scene, a storyline — that you’d hoped to explore but didn’t get the chance? FEDAK | At the beginning of the season, we had a JT story that was part of our first episode, which touched upon the Black Lives Matter movement and racism inside the police force. What happened was, COVID affected the show, and whenever something would happen in regards to [production changes], we’d have to change the story, we’d have to make moves. There were parts of that story that we weren’t able to address in Season 2 that we’d hoped to get to. It was something that we had to address in a different way, with the hope that in Season 3, we’d be able to come back and give that more air and time to breathe. SKLAVER | The other thing is, toward the end of this season, we started to really love Martin out in the world — in the finale, but even in that beach house with Vivian. We’ve done a lot of episodes with Michael, and he’s always in Claremont or he’s in flashbacks. He’s always on our stage. Once we could put him out in the world — I think Michael felt it, too — it was just another version of Martin Whitly, and it’s a version that I loved. Take what you will from this, but it was something we were very interested in pushing further in Season 3, just getting Martin out of Claremont more and giving this complex character even more dimensions.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction - BONUS MOMENTS

Surprise!!! I'm back with a select few bonus #bamelia moments!! I just couldn't let the love story of Ben and Amelia die, I hope you don't mind. Love Always, Steph xx

PSA: To all new readers, you don't have to read the series (link below) to understand this, however it would help so that you can understand the preconceived emotions behind the chapter!

Champions Again | di nuovo campioni

warnings; none word count; 1865 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. link to fic masterlist here

They had done it, again. The Chelsea boys were lifting their second team trophy for the year, they had just won the Supercup. This was Amelia’s first competition final with the Premier League giants and if she had her way, this wouldn't be last. She was beginning to get addicted to the feeling of winning, of proving to every little girl out there and every sexist male she had ever come across, that anything boys can do, girls can do better. She was letting her results speak for themselves, she was making history and there was nothing that could bring her down from the ninth cloud she was currently riding.

As proud as she was over her own achievements, she was equally as proud of her friends. Whilst she wasn’t part of their Champions League victory, she knew that this moment was just as special to the team that just loved to win. The scenes before her were ones she hoped she would never forget - the look on Jorgi’s face as he lifted his third trophy of the last few months, the crinkles beside Mason’s eyes as he grinned at the camera that was desperate to capture every moment of the evening, the tinge of pink on the apples of Ben’s cheeks as he stood with his hands on his hips while he watched Amelia give her first post-match tactical analysis to the Sky Sports reporter - proud that she was his girl. These were the moments that made Amelia forget all of the hard times, or rather made her realise that all of the hard times were worth it to see her friends, her team, her man smile.

With every great victory comes an even greater after party, and even though the Super Cup final coincided with the start of the season, the boys still believed that they deserved an afterparty to celebrate. Captain Cesar Azpilicueta had kindly offered the grounds of his Surrey home to host the bunch of rowdy boys, and their onslaught on mates and partners on the Sunday afternoon between the Super Cup final and the first match of the Premier League 21/22 season. Whilst they were under strict instruction from the higher powers of Chelsea Football Club (namely; Thomas Tuchel) to keep the drinking to a minimum and to keep themselves out of trouble, the boys were allowed to be boys for one more night.

______________________________________________________________

“Benj, what are you wearing? I don’t know if I should wear a sundress or denim shorts! Please, I need help!” I shouted out to Ben who was currently somewhere in his large house.

“Why would my outfit be able to help you with that decision” I could hear his voice getting closer, his footsteps getting louder as he began to ascend the stairs up to the main bedroom that I had slowly started to take over in the last couple months.

“An opinion is all I’m after - stop being cheeky mate” I shoot back at him as I begin to stand up from my place in front of his wardrobe. It was still his wardrobe, he hadn’t asked me to move in yet so it was still technically his even if it was half full with my clothes. As I got to my feet, I turned to see him leaning in the doorway with his arms and ankles crossed over each other. Wearing a tee shirt and some denim shorts himself with a cap covering his ungelled hair - a request from me because it was much easier for me to run my hands through if it wasn’t laden with gel...and because it gave me an excuse to push it out of his face whenever I felt like it (which was often).

“I wouldn’t mind if you stayed in that outfit to be fair, however, that would also mean we would be skipping this afterparty altogether and be spending the afternoon celebrating in an entirely different manner” He states staring at me while I’m currently standing with my hands on my hips, staring at the shorts and tank top combo I have laid out on his bed - again, his bed not ours - he hasn’t asked me to move in yet so it was technically his even if it did have the new bed sheets I purchased a couple weeks back with the matching throw cushions on it. The barely-there outfit that I was currently sporting and that had him licking his lips as he pushed himself off of the doorway to walk to me and wrap his arms around my body from behind was a bralette and a pair of his Chelsea shorts.

“Ok sorted, you’re in denim shorts so I’m going to wear mine too. Done ok move get off me I need to change or we’re going to be late” I exclaimed as I pushed him off me with my hips. A bad move? Absolutely not. I got to feel all of him against me and remind him of what he gets to come home to every evening, if he choses.

“Wow what's the rush now Mils? Why are you walking around like you’ve got ants in your pants?” He questioned as he tightened his grip on me and turned me so I was facing him, looking up into his curious baby blues.

“And don’t say nothing, I’ve picked up on all of your tells already” He further questioned as he could see the wheels begin to turn behind my eyes, desperate to come up with an excuse to mask my jitters so I wouldn’t have to tell him the truth.

“I regret ever letting you become friends with Fede, he’s spilling all of my secrets...Ok fine. I’m nervous to see Jack. I haven’t seen him since...ya’know and I haven't spoken to him since I gave him a telling off before international break and Ben I promise you I haven't thought about him once but I’m still worried that there's unresolved anger there from him and I don’t want to get into it again just when we’re getting back into the groove of us and it’ll impact your friendsh-” my rambling was cut off by his lips, which were simultaneously reminding me to breathe between my words and leaving me breathless at the same time. He always did have a way with his lips, the power they held over me was unmatched by anything.

“Calm down love, I promise it’ll be okay. Jack and I have had it out already, a long chat on international duties which may have only been prompted because Mase and Dec locked us in the kit room after our first session, sorted it all out.” Ben reassured me as he began to rub his thumbs over my cheeks and his hands held both sides of my face.

“I do know he wants to apologise to you though - so don’t be surprised if he tries to do that early on in the evening. You know just how awkward he can be so he’ll probably spring it on you before you’ve even put your bag down.”

“Oh great, I’m gonna need to do a couple shots before we leave the house - you’re good to drive right?” I said as I walked from his grasp and down the stairs to grab the bottle of vodka for some good old fashioned dutch courage.

______________________________________________________________

Ben was right about Jack, he had approached the couple only moments after they had arrived at Azpi’s house. Amelia had spotted him making his way towards them so she began to walk in a different direction to Ben, stretching their interlocked hands and letting him go as she mumbled something about needing to put her bag down. Ben really knew both of them too well. Jack gave Ben a hug hello, still in the grovelling stage of repairing their friendship.

“Hey bro, how’s it goin?” Jack spoke as he pulled away from Ben.

“Yeah bro all’s good with me, how are you? Congrats on the move again, million dollar geez you are, aren’t ya? Don’t forget me when you're mingling with Messi in a couple years” Ben joked back with the boy who has been literally a brother to him for the last few years.

“Ahhh you’re jokin me, could never forget a brother could I? We’re basically blood at this point I reckon. Where’d Mils run off ta?” Jack questioned with his arm around Ben’s neck, both of the boys looking out into the garden for the girl in question.

“Right here super Jack” Amelia spoke from behind them. During their brief discussion, Amelia had put her bag down and ran inside to grab herself a drink before walking out to face the music of Jack’s apology. Overhearing how lighthearted he was with Ben, coupled with the reassurance that Ben had provided her earlier in the evening plus the two or three vodka shots she had downed in their kitchen before coming to the afterparty had meant that she left her worries at the door.

“Mils, darlin', you already know what's coming but I truly am sorry...to both of ya ya’know. Benny, we’ve already had it out and it took me ages to get over that black eye but please believe me when I tell ya I am so sorry for treating you that way Amelia. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry and I regret nothing more than how I made you feel.” Jack could feel himself getting teary whilst thinking about how he made the girl feel, how he made his best mate and chosen brother feel, how he really put a spanner in the works of their blossoming relationship.

“Jack, I’m not going to say it was ok because it wasn't. But it wasn’t just your fault, I also played a part in it that has me cursing myself every day for ruining things with Benj. I forgive you, Jacky.” Amelia spoke while reaching up and wrapping her arms around Jack’s neck to give him one of her signature squeezy hugs, to truly convey that she was moving on from their tumultuous past and hoped that he could stop beating himself up over it and do the same.

Jack had left the couple to return to the table and grab himself a refill of his drink. Ben’s arm had found its natural position around Amelia’s shoulders as they both stood there looking out at their friends. However, Ben was looking down at Amelia. Without missing a beat and keeping her eyes focused out on the yard, Amelia spoke only loud enough for Ben to hear.

“So, you gave Jack a black eye over me huh? That’s hot”

Amelia took a few steps forward before turning to look at the expression on Ben’s face as she continued to walk away from him, backwards. The slight shock turned into a full on smirk as he walked towards her eager to close the gap between them with a kiss. He knew she loved him with her whole heart, but he hoped that she would understand just how much he loved her right back.

The Proposal | la proposta

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

I have a head cannon that when technoblade becomes friends with someone he braids their hair he's so far done it to Tommy philza and ranboo but only philza knows why

This is such a good prompt thanks! I went a little overboard and added a lot of my own hc's, hope that’s okay! Quick note I’m not past exile yet so my apologies if bedrock bros and just Ranboo in general are slightly inaccurate

When Philza met Techno, Techno was only a child, barely even able to talk, sitting dead-eyed in the ruins of a piglin village, hiding under the rubble in the hopes he wouldn’t be spotted. Philza, of course, being Philza, basically immediately adopts him.

Philza tried his best, he really did, but this was in the middle of a war, and Philza didn’t really know that child soldiers aren’t the best thing (he never quite learnt that, honestly). Techno learnt to fight before he learnt to read.

When Techno was young, he always had his hair cut short and out of his face, but he really liked the small side braid that Philza always wore in his hair. He had started to grow it out a bit, but not long enough to braid, by the time he became the vessel of the Blood God.

Short side note, he and Philza were fighting against a cult, and they’d managed to capture Techno and brand the sigil of the God into his flesh allowing the Blood God to make Techno his champion. Needless to say, the cult was near immediately completely wiped out after this process was complete, but also Technoblade wasn’t exactly super thrilled with all this.

Along with the more obvious changes- glowing, blood-red eyes, growing to almost nine feet tall, an insatiable desire for a good fight, and the constant voices ringing in his head, the growth of his hair was barely noticeable. Sure, it touched the floor and regrew rapidly when cut, but it seemed to mystically never get in his way during combat.

During combat being the operative sentence. Even if it isn’t life threatening, constantly tripping over your own hair when you’re still trying to get used to being a good two feet taller than usual and the voices in your head constantly mocking you for it.

This is when Techno gets the idea to braid it, like Philza does! The issue is, he doesn’t know how to braid hair, and he’s been so terrified of accidentally hurting Philza with all of his changes that he’s been avoiding him best he can, so his attempts fail horribly.

Meanwhile, Philza's very concerned that Techno's started avoiding him. He’s actually really frightened that Techno hates him now, since as the champion of the Blood God, with the voices of it’s angels in his head now, he might well view all other gods as enemies, and Philza, as not only the most esteemed angel but the husband of the goddess Kristin, would be included in that.

Still, he was very concerned about how Techno was avoiding him, and eventually came into Techno's room to have a talk with him, and he walked in on one of Techno's honestly awful attempts at braiding his own hair.

Philza offers to help braid Techno's hair, and during this they have a long, long conversation about both of their worries. Techno reassures Philza that he doesn’t hate him (or Kristin, for that matter), and Philza reassures Techno that he’s not going to lose control. The voices decide that Philza is pretty pog, actually, and chill out a bit. Overall, it’s just a massive relief for everyone.

After this, Philza starts teaching Techno how to braid his hair. It’s a slow process- especially since braiding nine feet of hair is an ordeal- but it’s one of the few moments of peace in the Angel of Death and the champion of the Blood God's life. Once Techno learnt how to braid hair, he started braiding Philza's too. The two of them knew what it meant. I trust you, unconditionally, and without fail.

Hundreds of thousands of years pass. Nations rise and fall, legends are made, but Philza and Techno stick by each other’s side throughout it all. They maintain the tradition of braiding each other’s hair. Techno does not do it with anyone else, but Philza does it with whatever random of assortment of children is under his wing at the specific time. Techno can’t quite understand the mans attachment to whatever orphan he finds on the street. Even the ones who don’t die in the battlefield die too soon, and he can’t understand how you could let yourself go through the heartbreak of seeing their inevitable demise.

He doesn’t expect the latest batch to be any different. Sure, one's Philza's biological kid, so he’d theoretically be able to survive indefinitely, but he’s a creative type who’s so inept with a sword Techno's certain he’ll perish the second a war comes around. One's a failed clone of Philza, but the hybrid and human DNA he was given to stabilise him made him a mess of instincts with atrophied wings and constant sickness. And while the shine in the ram-boys eyes shine with an energy that's definitely a sign of some relation to the older species, everything else about him suggests a regular child who’ll pass and die in maybe a hundred years tops.

Still, when he receives a letter from Wilbur about a rebellion, Techno was excited to go. More for the fun of combat and of course overthrowing a tyrant, but he can’t help but feel proud of the boy he remembered once trying to pick up a sword blade-end becoming a capable general.

He honestly developed a respect for Tommy and Tubbo during Pogtopia. They were so young, and already capable warriors. He felt they were naive, with their talk about restarting a government, but held hope in them that they’d realise that anarchy would be preferable.

Still, they drifted apart, in no short part due to being pressured into canonically killing Tubbo and non-canonically killing Tommy. Techno would never admit it, but the anger in Tommy's eyes and the fear in Tubbo's whenever he was around stung a bit.

His few interactions with Tommy after the sixteenth lead him to believe that the boy didn’t want anything else to do with him, so he was surprised to find the boy shivering under his house, bruised and eerily quiet in comparison to the Tommy he was used to who would never stop talking.

The Blood God may be more traditionally thought of as a god of combat, of killing and of blood shed by violence, but that’s only scratching the surface of the Blood God's dominion. It is also a god of anarchy, of freedom, of vengeance, and of protecting those who cannot protect themselves. And as a champion of the Blood God, Techno would have hesitated throwing out even someone he despised in those circumstances, but Tommy? There was no way he wouldn’t have helped him, despite how much he grumbled and groaned (that, at least, was easier than admitting attachment).

Techno tries, he really does. But he mistakes bruises and scars caused by cruel hands to the ones a younger Tommy came home with on accident due to his frailness, the possessiveness of the man who hurt him as he came in search as him as overbearing concern instead of obsession. He chalks up confused feelings to some awful accident, unwilling to pry in the clearly distressed child's business (and while he doesn’t want to admit it, he doesn’t want to think that Dream, his friendly rival for thousands of years, might be truly a monster.)

The first time Techno offered to braid Tommy's hair, he didn’t even realise what he offered until he’d already said it. Tommy was just sat, shivering, despite being curled up in one of Techno's cloaks in front of the fire, and Techno'd noticed how Tommy's long hair always got in his face, and he kept raising a shaking hand to push too long hair out of his face, and Techno couldn't help but be reminded of himself long ago, scared to leave his room and dealing with hair far too long for for himself.

That’s not to say he had any regrets, though.

Techno braided Tommy's hair every day after that. Honestly, on the days where he wasn’t shaking bad enough that he couldn’t braid his own hair it sort of annoyed Tommy- he felt a bit like he was being pitied, and that’s something he absolutely can’t fucking stand, but Techno's pity was far, far preferable to being back with Dream, watching the light slowly drain from his eyes in the reflection in the water every day, so he stayed quiet.

After Tommy's betrayal, Techno felt hurt- far, far more hurt than he’d ever found himself before. He’d given the boy his unconditional trust- showed it to him, every day, and Tommy couldn’t even show enough trust to stay by him.

The first time he saw Tommy after, still wearing a braid in his hair, a mockery of friendship, he punched through the walls in his home afterwards. Anger hurt less than sorrow, so he stewed in it, refusing to admit he still cared about the boy at all.

As such, it took him a long time to even braid his own hair, let alone anyone else’s. It was something that was safe, and now just reminded him of a boy who used his kindness and left it unrepaid.

The first person he started braiding the hair of again was Philza, not long after this. It was Philza, and Techno doubted he could lose trust in the man, even if he flat out stabbed him in the back quite literally. Philza was much closer to a friend than a father, but he was still the closest thing to family Techno had ever known.

Eventually though, somehow another boy managed to sneak past his defence. Ranboo was awkwardly tall and quiet with a crown and inexplicably good fighting skills, and Techno couldn’t help but like the boy who reminded him so much of himself. He supposes this is probably the closest he'll ever get to understanding Philza and his children.

Still, it takes a while for him to feel safe and comfortable braiding Ranboo's hair for him- as far as he was aware, Ranboo almost never had it loose out of the braid it was already in, anyway. The last time he trusted someone who reminded him of himself, it only hurt.

Eventually, though, Technoblade came around. Ranboo had just come out of one of his weird sleepwalking states, hair a mess and very distressed. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if the kid had enough memory to know who he was, but he relaxed as Techno braided his hair and talked about nothing in particular.

Now, as Technoblade's founded the Syndicate, he's grown a little more comfortable showing affection to others, especially Philza and Ranboo. Niki's a little new, but Techno knows that someday soon he'll trust her enough to braid through her hair, and put his trust in her completely.

[danzinora-switch]

Typing the Turtles (ROTTMNT) Part 3 - Leonardo

This started out as an investigation into the turtles’ insecurities, because one thing the show does so well is demonstrate that they are still teenagers. And being a teenager is a confusing experience - there’s angst, drama, exploring one’s identity, a lot of growth, and overall figuring out who you are. That’s a messy process, too! And we see this mess in our turtles: they mess up, they’re learning, they self-doubt, they have fears and insecurities, but they’re also discovering their strengths and how to overcome their inner obstacles.

So after thinking about all this way too long, here’s my psychological breakdown of each turtle (I’ll be referencing MBTI and the Enneagram a ton, but will include links for more general information on those if you don’t know what I’m talking about). 

Parts One and Two found on the links for Raph and Don.

Leo: ESTP, 3w2

The Achiever, the Entrepreneur, the Charmer, the Explorer

I’ve wanted to say this for a long time: Leo is such a 3, he is such a 3 it hurts, oh my goodness. Read this: https://www.enneagraminstitute.com/type-3 and tell me that isn’t Leo to a T.

It took me a little longer to figure out the MBTI for him, but he has a lot of similarities with the ESTP. This does mean we need to step away from the ‘frat bro’ stereotype of ESTPs, though. They are a lot more keen than convention would suggest.

Really, a big thing with Leo is his need to be The Best. What that means, to him, is normally something physically-related. He needs to be the best at sports or performing certain moves, which we see in episodes like The Longest Fight where he bets he can pull off the impossible skateboard move, or Shell in a Cell where he asserts he can out-perform Ghostbear. Additionally, episodes like Air Turtle really showcase the ugly side of his competitiveness. But he also desires physical perfection. He is rather image-conscious, fretting about his body in Stuck on You, and routinely referring to himself as the team’s Faceman. The biggest example of this was his idea for a disguise in Hidden City Job: the Turtle Adonis. An adonis is considered the peak physical ideal, handsome and attractive to boot. If this drive doesn’t scream Enneagram Three I don’t know what does.

Leo at his worst: Leo’s competitive side can certainly get the best of him. We see this in episodes like Air Turtle, where his ‘win at all costs’ attitude starts to alienate him from the group. Raph has also described him as a ‘poor winner’ which refers to his tendency to gloat when he does beat out the competition, or was proven right (Bug Busters, The Gumbus, You Got Served, LAIR GAMES). He’s smug, gloating, and when he does lose tries to wiggle out of it through technicalities. The one time he says something isn’t a competition is after Mikey beats him at Skateball (You Got Served). And when he ‘loses’ the Lair Games, Donnie’s win comes with a catch that Leo built in.

Threes do this for approval and validation, though, and we see that underlying his need to be the team’s Champion in Minotaur Maze and Portal Jacked! “I’m nothing without them!” he cries to Hueso. “What good is a team with just a Faceman?” Threes have a need to distinguish themselves from others, to be admired, to have attention, so that they then feel valuable and worthwhile. Other people, then, are necessary. When Leo wants to get on the Wall of Champions in Minotaur Maze, his brothers factor in to his unmet needs. “...because what good is being a Champion if you can’t rub it in your brothers’ faces?” Leo doesn’t just need to be The Best… he needs others to acknowledge it, as well.

Average Leo: He’s got a practical eye for situations and the quickness to adapt and act as needed. The ESTP is known for being bold as well as perceptive. We see this in fight scenes such as Battle Nexus: New York when he is quick to determine that physical comedy is the key to making the sprite laugh and immediately changing his approach.

He also displays a remarkable amount of common sense when making decisions. In Origami Tsunami, as the guys discuss becoming heroes, he’s the one who shoots down ideas until they reach a more achievable goal: taking on paper thieves. And he’s got a point, can you imagine the turtles taking on a spine-breaker or mangler at that point in time? When everyone else is blinded by ideals concerning fixing the Mutant Menace, he’s the only one who asks “anybody down for staying home during the anti-mutant panic?” Of course, he still goes along with their adventure, because ESTP’s live in The Moment, so why not?

Something else that I want to mention is Leo’s appreciation for the Machiavellian. He has an incredibly intuitive grasp on it, and actively appreciates twists, turns, betrayals and deceptions. His love for magic probably stems from this (The Clothes Don’t Make the Turtle) and he is the only one enjoying the series of betrayals in Warren & Hypno Sitting in a Tree. Hidden City Job also expands on the fact that Leo doesn’t have a problem with betrayal, as he revels about brotherly betrayal happening all the time. He’s cool with being betrayed… just know that he can betray you back. It’s all fair game.

This can have upsides and downsides. On the upside, his understanding of trickery can lead to brilliant plans and solutions such as what we saw in Many Unhappy Returns, where he was able to outsmart Big Mama herself. On the downside, this kind of behavior is not always the best move - his family does not appreciate being left out of the loop of his schemes, or actively being manipulated as part of them (Leo’s plan in Many Unhappy Returns worked, but he still left his brothers alone and exhausted, and did not consider the emotional effect it would have on Splinter being sent back into the arena). At that point it’s no wonder he asks “why does no one trust me?” Because you tend to have an angle, ‘Nardo. Be careful how you use that.

He is also incredibly persuasive. This is partly why I feel he is a 3 wing 2, ‘The Charmer’ because he knows how to communicate to get what he wants. When used for the right reasons, we see him settle discord such as cooling the mobs in You Got Served or apologize when he knows an apology is needed (Todd Scouts, Air Turtle, Hidden City Job). We see it used neutrally (and a bit skeptically) in Many Unhappy Returns when he declares he’ll just go to see Big Mama and “turn up the Leo”. It can also be used deceptively, however. Todd Scouts shows this when Leo is the one who convinces Todd that they’re ready to kick things up a notch by going out alone… when really they just want to get away from him. He’ll also use words to get under people’s skins: dismissing Warren Stone in Stuck on You, but also pointing out Donnie’s beach ball fear in Mind Meld. He knows which words will get the responses he wants, for better or for worse.

Leo at his Best: Leo is the team’s motivator. He’s the one giving the others the pep-talks and encouragement they need to continue (Origami Tsunami, Finale: Rise). Donnie said it best after Leo’s redemption in Air Turtle: “your confidence is giving me confidence!”

Because that’s the healthy thing about Threes: they strive to reach their own full potential, which also inspires others to reach theirs. Leo doesn’t like to fail/lose, but he won’t let anyone else succumb, either. He has the most confidence in each Mad Dog’s ability. “I knew you guys could handle it!” he says in Many Unhappy Returns, and points out with amazing accuracy just what his brothers are capable of. He not only believes in himself, he believes in those around him. And he’s able to inspire them when they’re feeling down about their own abilities or not enthused about the task (see his speech about standing up for the paper men in Origami Tsunami).

This also includes encouragement and compliments in other areas. Regarding the Shell Hogs: “Donnie, these are amazing! And I know everything I say sounds sarcastic, but I’m being completely genuine this time” (Stuck on You). When Mikey isn’t sure Hypno will like him: “What? Of course he will, you’re adorable!” (Newsworthy). To Raph, “Does this place have smoke detectors? Because you’re on fire, Big Daddy!” (The Clothes Don’t Make the Turtle).

He’s also able to step in and take charge when Raph falls because he can see what action needs to be taken (that practical and observant, yet bold ESTP side coming in). When Raph gets separated in the sewers, Leo’s the one who doesn’t treat it casually and gets the others moving to find him (Man vs Sewer). When his older brother is hypnotized by Hypno in Stuck on You, he quickly reacts and tells Mikey and Donnie what the plan is and enacts it. We see this leader potential grow bit by bit, and his awareness of each individual’s role on the team allows him to step back from areas that he knows aren’t his forte: Raph can handle the ‘teamwork’ stuff, Donnie has got the technical know-how, and Mikey takes care of positive outlook for any situation. Leo can keep things fun and inspire confidence. His puns help lighten the mood, his jokes break the ice of tense situations, and he never stops believing in their own abilities, which keeps them all going (Donnie’s Gifts, Many Unhappy Returns).

Leo Relationships:

(While Leo has a competitive episode with each of his brothers: Shell in a Cell, Lair Games, and You Got Served, there is more going on than just that).

Raph: Both Leo and Raph have strong gut feelings that can be blindsided. Leo picks up immediately that Big Mama is not trustworthy while Raph is more than happy to believe her, but Leo is blinded by his fan-love for Jupiter Jim to realize that Marcus Montcrief is a crazy and suspicious adult, which Raph becomes aware of early on (Bug Busters, Jupiter Jim Ahoy!). They both can be a little too head-first when diving into plans, such as checking out the creepy bus in One Man’s Junk or doing their best to help April in Hypno: Part Deux. But they do trust each other to have each other’s backs, and there’s (thankfully!) no Leo vs Angst in this version of their characters. It really allows them to be comfortable with each other (and egg each other on with more than just missions: see the pizza pigeon in Mind Meld).

Donnie: In some ways Leo acts like a foil for Donnie. His own natural confidence counterbalances a lot of his twin’s insecurities. They butt heads over it, sure, with Donnie perhaps taking things too seriously and Leo seemingly not taking them seriously enough, but I like I said in Donnie’s typing: one’s chill and one’s uptight. There’s a ton of back and forth between them: they are the epitome of siblings fighting one minute and getting up to no good together the next (Example from The Mystic Library: Leo grooves out with Donnie’s rap one moment and tries to get him kicked off the team in the next scene). They may antagonize each other in Lair Games, Smart Lair, the beginning of Snow Day and Hidden City Job, and so much more, but also demonstrate brotherly love (and antics) in Operation: Normal, the end of Hidden City Job and Smart Lair, and, of course, Battle Nexus: New York. “For Donnie’s honor!”

Mikey: Leo sticks up for Mikey a fair amount, especially to Raph. He supports Mikey trying to open the portal in Mystic Mayhem, and going out on his first solo mission in Hot Soup: The Game. We actually need more Leo and Mikey episodes; of the two we have one is a competition episode (You Got Served), and The Gumbus has Leo tag along intent on proving Mikey wrong. It seems they like to hang out during the down time a lot, as they play in the arcade and skateboard off-screen in episodes such as Mrs. Cuddles, You Got Served, Mind Games, and Sparring Partner. And of course, we have the gripping image of Leo protecting Mikey’s shell with his own in Battle Nexus: New York. I’d really like to see them get up to more shenanigans, though. (hint, hint @nickelodeon​, @netflix​).

Ultimately, Leo is a confident, competitive turtle striving to reach his full potential. He is normally great at encouraging his brothers to do the same, and devising grand strategies, but tends to forget the emotional effects his actions can have on them, especially if he gets carried away on his quest to be The Best. He’s still learning, and these traits will likely flesh out as he grows into a more leader-like role.

For more information on the ESTP and Enneagram 3 personality types, click here:

https://www.16personalities.com/estp-personality

https://www.enneagraminstitute.com/type-3

https://www.crystalknows.com/enneagram/type-3-wing-2

https://ih0.redbubble.net/image.155775924.2701/flat,800x800,070,f.u5.jpg

[sneakymalou]

*making a list and checking it twice, so our fan fiction writing Santa can do the whole valentine alphabet (notice how I specified an alphabet, because there are multiple alphabets 😈)for my three favorite boys*. It’s the month of Christmas so you know what that means, headcanons for days! Could you do X,Y, and Z for Hop, Leon, and Raihan?

Headcanon for days, count me iiiin !! ❤❤ Especially for these three, I can keep writing over and over 😏 Hope you'll like it as well ! (♥ω♥*) Here we goooo 🥳

Leon

X   :   XOXO.   does your muse use / like pet names?

Pet names ? He's a specialist. You're his soulmate, for him your love is everything. When you started dating, he didn't dare to call you with anything else than your name. You were the first to take the chance, blush on your cheeks.

After that, you became his love, sweetie, lullaby. You heard him asking his Charizar some ideas of new nicknames, and all you wanted to do is hug him for hours.

You started to search for pet names of your own, after all, he's your champion now. You want the world to know he's yours and you're his.

Buuut you wanted to surprise him, like always. That's why, when he expected it less, you shout, a big smile on your face : “MY LEON BEAAAAR !!!” Of course, his heart skipped a bit, before he wrapped his strong arms around your shoulders. “My little bee...” he whispered, kissing you tenderly.

Y   :   YOURS.   does your muse get protective easily?

Leon is overprotective. He was with his little brother Hop, being more a father than a brother.

As a champion, he always keep an eye on every challengers or young trainers to be sure their journey plays out smoothly.

He's always available for everybody who needs his help, but when it comes to you, he forgets about his duties. No man touches you, that's for sure. If any man dares to be violent, annoying or anything, not only him could react violently but also his Charizar.

If you're hurt or in pain, he comforts you as long as you need. Cuddle you and whispering you sweet things would be his top priority, and for days, he wouldn't be able to leave your sit. He needs to feel your warm body against his, day and night.

Z   :   ZZZ.   how many people has your muse slept with?

Before you ? Two : his little brother when he was still a small child, when he had nightmares, and his Charizar when he was a Charmander. He could watch over Hop without sleeping, because his comfort is more important than his own.

Now that you're in his life, sleeping with you is a pleasure of his. Cuddle you, even sing for you to sleep tight... is wonderful for him, a delightful moment.

Now that Hop doesn't need him when he has nightmares, Leon is fond of sleeping with you. In a camp under a sky full of stars, or in a hotel room, when you're here, it feels like home...

Raihan

X   :   XOXO.   does your muse use / like pet names?

Raihan gots pet names for everyone and everything : his dragons, his fans, even his selfies techniques. He simply loves to be close to things and people, he makes him proud to treat people like this because they're important to him.

At first, he didn't give you one. It's not that he didn't want to, but he thought you didn't like it. You were talking about the little names he gave to his fans and he saw your jealousy, feeling nobody never felt with him. Nobody was never serious about a love story with him, after all...

With this feeling on mind, he starts to call you his little bunny, because you're so cute and warm when he hugs you. Sometimes he even gives you pokemon names... it's not his fault you're fluffy like a Chillarmy ! He's thinking to offer you one for your next birthday, but hey, that's a secret...

Another secret of Raihan : when he talks about you with his fans, you're his Dragon Queen. The one and only. He never called you that way, but on his Instagram, it's your nickname. When he speaks about you on the social media, it's nearly poetic.

Y   :   YOURS.   does your muse get protective easily?

Very. I mean very, very protective. He's extremly tall, strong and even threatening when his loved ones are in danger.

Raihan has fangs, that makes his smile outstanding, can be scary. Of course you love his smile, but you find his overprotective behavior the sexiest.

When another trainer is threatening after a loss, he kidnapps you, carries you in his back, just to show how strong he could be and you're his Dragon Queen. Nobody misses with you or he ready to fight back in your stead.

Why does always do that for you ? Because he loves you to the moon and back, and he craves for the kisses you give him in gratitude... he could do anything to obtain more of you tenderness !

Z   :   ZZZ.   how many people has your muse slept with?

Bad topic ! You asked him once about his previous love stories, and you were jealous as hell. Raihan is a star on social medias, a lot of women wants him. Did he sleep with a lot of women ? Probably. But you don't want to know how many !

The most important thing is your moments together. He can't sleep if you're not by his side. Neither can you, of course. His behavior makes you think that you're is true soulmate. You're his one and only, his Dragon Queen.

If you have to be honest, you love his moan when he sleeps, and he's crazy about your little purr, making him want to call you his little kitten... best proof of you belonging together right ?

Hop

X   :   XOXO.   does your muse use / like pet names?

Hop had many pet names from his brother as a child, so he's used to it but doesn't use it often. His pokemon are his treasures of course, but he doesn't need to give them particular nicknames to love them so much.

You gave him a lot of cute names since you started dating. At first he was surprised, but not annoyed by it. Oddly, he liked it pretty much. It was his proof you loved him from the bottom of your heart.

He doesn't allow anyone to give him a pet name : his mother, brother Leon of course and you. He doesn't need to be close to anyone else, and love to be special for you three.

You wan't a lovely name ? He's not against at all... but he wants you to give him tips for it. He wants you to like it, and not disappoint you. If you guide him, he may start to enjoy it and give you so many names your heart will definitively melt.

Y   :   YOURS.   does your muse get protective easily?

His brother Leon was always protective, So Hop was the one protected, not the opposite. But he doesn't mean he can't act like a big bear and wrapps his arm around someone in order to be protective.

He's always so careful with his friends and pokemon you can't see him otherwise. He cares very much, that's all. You love him that way, always thoughtful even for small things.

You got a scratch ? He'll make himself a healer. A bruise ? He'll give you all magic kisses you want. Your ankle hurts as hell ? He's capable of carry you for hours, and giving you a great massage to release the pain.

In all these ways, he's a top protector. In fact, you could let him be and give him hugs and kisses as a reward... he'd love that.

Z   :   ZZZ.   how many people has your muse slept with?

Except his pokemon and, more recently, you, no one as really slept with Hop. He's not a total child anymore and doesn't need a chaperon. His big bro can look after him without sleeping with him, you know ?

He was hesitant about spending all the night with you at first. But when you did it in the middle of a forest, you became his personal heat.

It's not for this only reason he asked you several times to sleep with you. When you're resting against his chest, and he could hear your heartbit, he relaxes. He knows you're okay, happy even, and nothing bad could happen because he's there to protect you, your sleep and your dreams.

This particular thought makes him never want to leave your arms : it's like a dream coming true, the peace and perfection he always looked for...

[raysofcrosby]

LITTLE DO YOU KNOW – T. SEGUIN

"𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 '𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺'."  ─ 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐒

gif credit (x)

series masterlist

requested: yes | no

warnings: just some swearing nbd

word count: 4,113 [ oof yikes ]

authors note: originally i was gonna turn this idea into a fic, but like...i have no energy for that. so if anyone wants it to, it can be a multi part series for seggy boy :)  anyway, stop by and request something or let me know what you think about this–– ok bye and enjoy!!

"Baby Benn, I need your assistance." You looked up from your Physiology book to see Big Rig, otherwise known as Jamie Oleksiak, or as you like to call him– a big teddy bear– make his way over to you.

"She's studying Jamie, what do you need?" Dave said, never taking his eyes off of Klingberg's ankle as he continued to tape it.

"What's more important? My deathly aching shin or this..." He picked the book up from your hands and lazily flipped through the pages, crinkling his nose in disgust. "This migraine-inducing book."

"Give that back," You said, standing up and reaching across the desk, taking your book from his hands. "This migraine-inducing book is what will get me my degree, which will hopefully lead to a job you teddy bear."

"Still didn't answer my question."

You sighed and marked the page before closing your book and standing up from the small desk. "Is it the same one?"

"Yup!" He smiled and hopped up onto one of the stretching tables, holding out his right leg. "So tell me doc, does it need to be amputated? Am I going to die of this killing pain?"

Before you could answer, he was getting smacked in the back of the head by a green resistance band. You looked over and saw Jamie, your older brother, rolling his eyes just as he tossed the band at you. "If you don't do your stretches it won't be the shin splints that kills you, it'll be me."

"Damn Chubbs, I was just playing," Big Rig groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "You didn't need to almost decapitate me."

"Oh, so I can go back to studying?" You asked, holding out the resistance bands as your brother, Dave and a few of the other players getting serviced laughed. "Unless you want to write this paper for me after your game tonight?"

Big Rig rolled his eyes and grabbed the band, looping his foot through it and starting to stretch his shin. "You just lost your spot as my favorite trainer in training."

"I'm the only trainer in training, J." You reached out for the resistance band and made him take more into his grip. "Keep it tight and stretch slow. You'll get the most out of it that way."

Soft snickering behind you soon turned into a burst of laughter and you watched as Big Rig's attempt to hide a smirk, ultimately failed. You sighed and rolled your eyes, not needing to know who the laughter belonged to. "27-years-old and still acting like a pre-pubescent boy with an underdeveloped frontal lobe? Could only be you, Segs."

Tyler fake scoffed, bringing a hand to his chest and looking at you with hurt eyes. "I'm flattered you've managed to keep my age tucked away in that big brain of yours, but pre-pubescent? I figured baby Benn would have a much better insult than that."

"Oh, I have tons of better insults," sitting down in your chair, you picked up your book and smiled at him. "Just none that your baby brain would be able to even begin to comprehend."

His hurt look faded and he licked his top teeth, shaking his head and laughing. "You'd be very surprised at what this baby brain can understand."

You gasped, this time holding your hand to your chest and looking at him in wonder. "You mean that you're capable of having knowledge in anything besides Hockey and breasts?"

You heard the snap of Big Rig's resistance band echo as it flew off of his foot. The other guys stared at you in awe before laughing at Tyler. You raised a single eyebrow at your brother's best friend, daring him to snipe back at you. But when he opened his mouth, Jamie stepped in your vision, picking up Big Rig's resistance band. "Okay you two, stop bickering like some stupid lovesick teenagers." He tossed the resistance band at Big Rig and turned to you. "And please, I never want to hear the word breasts come out of your mouth again."

"I'm almost 22 Jamie, it's perfectly normal for–"

He held up a hand and shook his head. "For the sake of my ears, just...please, no bodily mentions. I'd just rather not have that in my head."

You sunk back down into your chair, as he went to grab a foam roller. Before looking back at your book, you peeked over the top of it to see Tyler stuffing a heating pad into his shirt, holding it firmly on his left shoulder. As if he could feel you staring, he looked up, resting his back against the wall and smirked, raising a single eyebrow before tapping his temple and mouthing "big brain."

You rolled your eyes and subtly cleared your throat and turned the page, using your middle finger that you made sure was perfectly within his line of vision. He laughed and covered it up with a cough before shaking his head and leaving the training room completely.

It was normal, dealing with the chirps of your brothers' teammates. You'd been around them for the last three years of your college education, only this time during your last year, you were working alongside them. It was a weird adjustment, going from seeing them in the corridors post-game, relaxing on the weekends at a bar to shadowing their athletic training staff during practices and games. When you mentioned your internship, Jamie didn't even bother to ask you if you wanted to shadow the Dallas Stars Athletic Trainers. Mainly because he knew you were too afraid to ask. So he just went up to Jim Nill and asked if you could do your internship there for the season and that was it.

That's how you got your internship.

You were grateful for the fact that your brother was able to help you get your foot in the door with this internship, which is why you did anything and everything that your 'bosses' asked. Whether it was replacing heating pads, washing the covers for them, changing the water in the heater– any grunt work, you did with no hesitation. And they appreciated seeing you so willing to learn what their day-to-day lives were like when they were on the job. Eventually, you went from doing grunt work to being able to tape up ankles, help with stretches, almost anything except for stitching. That, you weren't allowed to do.

The boys took you in as one of their own the moment most of them met you, your freshman year at SMU. It was easy to 'adopt' Chubb's little sister, as they so liked to put it. And the moment that you stepped foot into the training room with your official Dallas Stars polo, that's when the real fun began. Their jokes about you being 'Baby Benn' never seemed to end. You were often victim to their playful chirping and of course, they didn't bother to keep the language clean of innuendos are curse words. They knew that they didn't have to though, especially since you grew up with Jordie and Jamie Benn as your two older brothers. Not only had you'd grown up knowing what the Hockey atmosphere was like, but you could also give it right back to them.

And man, they loved it. Tyler, however, seemed to love it the most. Whether it was because he was Jamie's best friend or he just took a special interest in picking on you, you never figured it out. Besides Big Rig and Bishop, you were close to Tyler. Mainly, since he was Jamie's best friend, but also because of all of the ways he's helped you out in the last four years. He and Jamie moved you into your dorm room every year since freshman year. When they were on long roadies, Tyler paid you to come over and take care of the dogs, though you never took the money because playing with his three boys was like free therapy and his house was only a few minutes down the road. And if inclement weather forced you to evacuate campus and you didn't feel like staying on Jamie's fancy leather couch, Tyler offered you one of his many guest rooms. Though most of the time, you just took the couch at Jamie's.

Tyler may be your big brother's best friend so you've got to know him a little bit over the last few years...but if there was one thing you knew most about him, it was his womanizing reputation about Dallas. Hell, around anyplace he steps foot in. He knows he's a damn good hockey player, he knows that he's not exactly ugly and he's damn well aware of all of the women who'd love to say that they spent the night with Stanley Cup Champion, Tyler Seguin. And he doesn't care because like any 20-something male, he's getting laid and that's all that matters.

Which, you guess is why the two of you tend to butt heads and chirp at each other the most. You can't stand guys who bounce from girl to girl and he's just an ass. Especially since he always joins in whenever Jamie rags on your boyfriend of two years, Cole. For as long as you've been dating, Jamie and Tyler have refused to let up on the jokes involving his red-shirt senior status on the baseball team or his involvement in Beta Upsilon Chi. They'd always sneak in stupid frat jokes whenever they were around him, knowing that he'd probably never catch on. You couldn't rebuke them though, because well...Cole kind of was your stereotypical Frat bro. But you got enough of the negative comments from your dad and oldest brother whenever you were at home, you didn't want them to follow you down at school too.

Your ringtone blaring from your backpack that was hanging on the back of your chair tore you away from your textbook. When you put it down, you noticed that the training room was empty and their warm-up music was echoing softly from outside of the room. It happens sometimes, you getting so lost in your schoolwork that you just tend to zone out all noise. And you weren't needed out on the bench until game time anyway, so it was no wonder why Dave didn't bother to interrupt your reading.

You reached into your backpack and grabbed your phone, looking at the screen to see that Cole was calling. Pressing the green button, you brought the phone up to your ear and picked your book back up. "Hey, what's up?"

"Hey babe where are you?" His voice was being muffled by the loud music coming from his end of the call.

You laughed, turning another page. "I think the better question, is where are you?"

You could hear him talking to people in the background as the music overtook his side of the call. Ignoring it, you took a deep breath and sighed, re-reading over a paragraph. "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything besides asking where you were."

The music and sounds of people mingling muffled on his side of the call, making it a little easier to hear him. "Oh I'm at the house, where are you? Are you almost ready to head over?"

Flipping another page, your focus starts to dwindle from Cole and more into your textbook. "Um, no? I'm at the arena for work."

"What do you mean? Why are you at the arena?" The muffled sound of music doesn't last much longer as it practically erupts through the speaker on your phone. He must have gone back into the pre-game.

You pull the phone away from your ear and check the time. Warm-ups shouldn't be ending for another five minutes, meaning nobody should be coming into the training room or the corridor anytime soon. You pressed the speaker and placed your phone onto the desk. "I'm working tonight, remember?"

"Uh, no? You never told me you were working tonight!" He yelled over the music, saying hi to more people as he traveled through the house no doubt. "You're supposed to be here in like, thirty minutes, Y/N. It's Beta Ball! You said you'd be here."

"Actually, no I didn't," you could feel yourself begin to get annoyed as you heard one of his friends offer him two shots. "I told you that I had to work. I even printed out a schedule and gave it to you, remember?"

The sound of him gulping down two shots echoed over your phone as he sighed in relief. "You didn't give me a damn schedule, Y/N."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were telling yourself to cut him some slack since he was obviously in the midst of pre-gaming. But another part of yourself just wanted to tell him you were busy and hang up the phone. Cole could care less about his schoolwork, only frat parties, preparing for his upcoming season and then getting drafted.

"I did give you a schedule, Cole. I gave it to you on Monday," you flipped another page, "which was four days ago."

The music started to muffle again, soon followed by the sound of a door shutting– muffling the music completely. "This party is a huge deal, Y/N. It's one of the biggest parties of the semester and if you're not here I'll look like a total fucking loser. It's the damn formal!"

You couldn't help but snort as his statement. "It's not the biggest party of the year, Cole. You're just drunk."

He must be stumbling around whatever room he's in because you can hear him bumping into things and stuff being thrown on the floor. It was surprising how bad his tolerance was, especially for being in a frat. "You're not even a real fucking trainer, why are you there?"

"It's my internship for my degree, Cole. Some of us care about getting a college education instead of worrying about what to wear to the next sleazy frat party," you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head. "So calm down the roid-rage and enjoy your party of the year."

"Are you fucking coming or are you too busy being a bitch errand-girl for your brother's shitty team?"

"Jesus Christ, Cole it's not even a real ball!" You yell, just as the sound of a door opening and closing echoes around you. "It's literally that stupid party where girls have to wear lingerie and the boys just spend their time ogling over them."

A wave of green rushed into the room, coming to a stop at the table closest to me. They pulled their warm-up jersey over their head before you could even make out who it was. But the moment you saw the fancy script of one familiar Stanley Cup tattoo, you knew who it was. You picked up the phone, taking it off of speaker bringing it back to your ear as he continued to dress down from his gear. "What? Have you contracted an itch from all of the girls you've been seeing?"

Tyler looked over at you and smiled, shaking his head as he kept undressing. "Don't enjoy the show too much."

"Seriously Y/N, it's super fucked up that you're not coming tonight! You owe it to me, I'm your fucking boyfriend!" His slurred voice must have been heard from your phone since Tyler looked over at you again with a raised eyebrow. "If you don't show up, we're done! You can take your shit a-and get lost."

"I need service, please," Tyler said, taking your attention away from the phone call and hopping up onto the table in nothing but his pants and his pads. He was sitting up straight and had his hands in his lap like he was a kindergartner waiting for storytime.

"Sorry Seguin, I don't provide the kind of service you're used to."

He rolled his eyes and kicked up both of his legs, taking off his sicks and shin pads. "Not that kind, the athletic training kind." His eyes moved over to the phone against your ear and then back at you. "Or are you too busy?"

"Is that a guy?" Cole slurred, his loud slurping from his new drink grossing you out. "Y/N, who the fuck are you with?"

The annoyance from the entire phone call was bubbling up until you couldn't take it anymore. "Listen, Cole, I need to go," you looked over at Tyler, setting down and closing your book. "I'm busy."

"Are you at least going to fucking try and come to the party instead of wasting away like an old maid?" You raised your eyebrows at his comment, your inner voice telling you to refrain from snapping at him.

And yet, it was hard not to feel guilty since you knew how important these frat parties were to Cole. You sighed and stood up from the chair. "Maybe after the game, I don't know."

He didn't even bother to reply to your response and instead, just hung up on you. You pulled the phone away from your ear and stared at it to see that he had, in fact, hung up on you. "Rejection hurts, huh?"

You rolled your eyes at Tyler's comment and placed the phone back down onto the desk, then making your way over to him. "Is there any reason why you just performed a half-assed strip show in the training room?"

"Oh no, that's not my strip show," Tyler laughed, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. "You'd know my strip show if you saw it. It leaves the ladies dripping."

"Why? Because they pissed themselves from laughing so hard?"

In true Tyler fashion, he rolled his eyes and stuck his feet up at you. "I need my ankles taped and don't worry, Dave said you could do it."

"A little late there, don't you think?" You asked, walking over to the cupboards that held every material you'd need. "Or is the Tyler Seguins' supposed big brain, not able to support memory?"

"Yeah, well I got distracted by your brother and his fawning over Katie...again."

You laughed, taking the basket with everything that you'd need back over to the table he was sitting on. "Ah, so you've been caught up on the drama?" You grabbed a stool and brought it to the end of the table, resting a knee on it as you nodded for him to scoot back and extend out his leg.

He leaned back on his hands, watching as you began to tape his ankle. "At this point, I think their relationship history could give lifetime at least three new movies."

"Lifetime movies, huh? Didn't take you to be the kind of guy to tune in to those." You focused on going through the appropriate steps, keeping your eyes on his ankle. "Maybe Hallmark, but definitely not Lifetime."

"Wow, you know so little about me, I'm hurt. Besides, their 'sucks to be sixteen' marathons are great." He brought his right knee up as you tapped the finished ankle before moving onto his left. "Let me guess, you love the Hallmark Christmas movies and you've never missed a single one?"

You looked up at him for a few seconds before looking back down and continuing to work on his ankle, not answering his question. He wiggled his foot, causing you to look back up at him. "Seguin, I swear to–"

"Ha! I knew it! You're a total sucker for those cheesy, romance Christmas movies."

"For your information," You meticulously started to wrap his ankle with the pre-wrap. "It's a family tradition, at least between my mom, my sister and me. Dad and the boys wouldn't be caught dead watching those." You paused, smiling for a second. "Unless it's the Candace Cameron-Bure ones. Jamie's a sucker for those."

A comfortable silence settled over as you finished up his ankle. When you tapped it, he sat up and pointed down at the floor. "Can you pick up my socks? I don't want to have to bend down to get them."

"Why, is Mr. 3% body-fat getting, dare I say..." you faked a gasp as you bent down to pick up his socks. "lazy?"

"No," he swung a sock out at you, missing you by a few inches before bending over to put it back on as you walked over and placed some tape down for him to use. "So Cole..."

"Ugh, can we please not talk about him?" You groaned, putting the basket back into the cupboard. "I swear our that phone call gave me a migraine, so I don't need to hear your jokes."

"No, not that." he put on both shin guards before moving on to fixing his socks. "I just...does he always talk to you like that?"

"Like what?"

"Oh I don't know, let me think," He put the tape down next to him before, getting off of the table. "Does, ‘are you fucking coming or are you too busy being a bitch errand-girl for your brother's shitty team?’ sound familiar?"

You stopped in front of the desk, looking at him and feeling your embarrassment start to take over. "Y-You heard that?"

He nodded his head towards the door and reached down for his skates, putting them back on. "So does he? Talk to you like that?"

You realized how cliche it would seem if you told Tyler that it was only when Cole was drunk, that he talked to you that way. But the last six months of your relationship had been a little hostile. Senior year was a pressure on both of you, but Cole seemed to be wearing it far worse than you. "He was drunk, what does it matter?"

"It matters because I have two younger sisters and I know for a fact that if one of their shitty boyfriends talked to them that way, he'd end up in an ER bed." He stood up off of the table and turned to pick up his warm-up jersey.

"Well good thing you're not my brother then, huh?" You joked, expecting him to make a comment back at you.

Instead, he looked a little lost in thought before he shook himself out of it, smiling at you. "Doesn't mean I still wouldn't put frat boy Cole in an ER bed."

You walked around the desk, plopping down into your chair as the murmuring of voices from down the hall echoed from the hallway. "Better get going, don't want to be late for the meeting."

"Yeah, I guess," Tyler tossed his jersey over his shoulder and headed towards the door, stopping in front of it. "Are you going tonight? To that party...with Cole?"

You looked up from your book, caught off guard by his question and the way he said it. For a moment, if you weren't convincing yourself that you were delusional. You'd think that Tyler looked...concerned or maybe even a bit genuinely curious about your nighttime plans.

You shrugged your shoulders, picking the book back up. "I don't know, maybe. There's usually some lingerie contest at this thing and the winner gets a $100 tab to some bar downtown, so maybe if I leave here in time."

You made sure to pay attention to the way he reacted to your response. His features darkened a little bit before he turned away from you walking out of the training room. You returned back to your book, only to be interrupted by someone clearing their throat. When you looked up, you saw Tyler leaning back in, a smile on his face. "Any chance I can get some pics?"

You threw the empty roll of tape on your desk in his direction and he ducked out of the way, laughing all the way down the hallway. "BYE Tyler!" You called out, returning back to your textbook.

As your eyes skimmed the words that your brain failed to absorb, a smile crept onto your face as you looked back up into the empty doorway. "No," you said, shaking your head and closing your eyes, following it with a deep breath. "No, absolutely not. Do not go there."

When you opened your eyes, a small sinking gut feeling took over when you looked into the empty hallway. Part of you wanted Tyler to reappear in the doorway with his goofy grin. But he wasn't there, and neither was his stupid request for lingerie pictures or his...amazingly stupid abs. What bothered you the most though, wasn't the fact that he wasn't standing there...but what he meant by his request.

Did he want lingerie pictures of the other contestants...or of you?

[krisdreaming]

🎄 9th Day of Fluffmas 🎄

⟵ Day 8 | Masterlist | Day 10 ⟶

And a Happy New Year || Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

Word Count: 1,967 | Gender Neutral reader

(prompt: I wasn’t really sure that I wanted to be at this New Year’s party after all but we’ve been talking for a while and now it’s almost midnight already?)

a/n: Okay, you got me, Kuroo is the repeat boy, can you blame me? This got kind of rambly and weird but I hope you still enjoy!

-

The Bokuto family New Year’s Eve party is legendary. At least, that’s the word Bokuto used when he was convincing you to come. Overwhelming would probably be the word you would choose, now that you’re here. 

Bokuto had pointed you in the direction of the table laden with food before rushing off, something about having to go grab some ice but promising to introduce you to some people as soon as he got back. That leaves you standing in the middle of the room, making yourself as small as possible while you look around for anyone you might know. You’re filled with relief when you spot Akaashi, and gravitate toward him as nonchalantly as possible.

“Oh hey, you’re here.” He drops some chips onto his plate and hands you one of your own. “Go ahead, get some food. Didn’t Bokuto introduce you to anyone yet?”

“No.” You shrug. “Something about having to get ice. He said he’d be back.” You and Akaashi exchange a look - you both know Bokuto too well. You begin filling your plate. “Do I know anyone else here?”

“Well...” Akaashi pauses to think for a few moments. “Probably not.” He admits apologetically. “He invited a few other people from school, but none of them could make it.” You know Bokuto and Akaashi from college, but this party seems to be made up of mostly Bokuto’s family friends and old friends from high school. “But if you come with me to the kitchen, I’ll introduce you to someone who wants to be here even less than you do right now.”

“Am I that obvious?” You laugh weakly.

Akaashi shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to be at a party where I don’t know anyone, either. Come on.” You follow him through the house to the kitchen, and the relative calm and quiet immediately puts you a little more at ease. In the corner, a boy with his hair pulled into a small bun at the nape of his neck is tapping away at his phone. Akaashi approaches him.

“Y/N, this is Kozume Kenma.” The boy looks up from his phone to shoot you a small smile.

“Call me Kenma.” He instructs, giving his phone a few more taps before he lowers it in an attempt to be polite.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You greet him. “You can go back to your game if you want. I’m just here to avoid awkward conversation until Boktuo gets back.” You laugh. He surprises you with his own quiet laughter.

“Join the club. Except I’m also avoiding Bokuto.” He confides, lifting his phone again.

“See, I knew you two would get along.” Akaashi nods. “I’m gonna head back to the party. I’ll tell Bokuto where to find you?”

“Sure.” You settle in with your back against the counter, digging into your plate of snacks with the pleasant sound effects from Kenma’s game playing in the background.

“Sorry, Kenma.” A voice breaks the comfortable silence. “I even checked the fridge in the garage, looks like they’re all out.” The first thing you notice when you look up is a messy head of dark hair. “Oh, hi. Didn’t realize anyone else was here.” He smiles at you.

“This is Y/N.” Kenma says without looking up. 

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Y/N, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.” He sticks out his hand to shake, and you take it. His grip is firm. “Do you know Kenma?” He looks between the two of you.

“For about five minutes. I’m actually a friend of Bokuto and Akaashi’s from school.” He smiles. It’s the kind of smile that makes you want to smile back, so you do. “Turns out I don’t know anyone else here, so I’m that person hiding in the kitchen at a party.”

He nods knowingly. “Ah, so you’re a first timer. I remember my first Bokuto family New Year’s party. This guy could have killed me for dragging him along.” He jerks his thumb in Kenma’s direction. “But after a while, you sort of get numb to the crazy.” He laughs, and you can’t help but join.

“Good to know.” You nod. 

“Speaking of crazy.” Kuroo grins over your shoulder, and you turn to see Bokuto entering the kitchen. “Hey, bro!” They greet each other with a hug, thumping each other on the back.

“Bro!” Bokuto grins. “Hey hey, Y/N, looks like you already met Kuroo! What’re you guys doing out here in the kitchen? The party’s just getting started! We’ve actually got a game of Pictionary going if you want to join.” He looks at you hopefully.

“What d’ya say, Kenma? Wanna be my partner?” Kuroo asks. Kenma frowns.

“Not really.” He shakes his head. “I played with you last year. It’s my off year.”

Kuroo shakes his head. “You’re impossible. Well... Y/N, since you don’t really know anybody... wanna be my partner? I can’t promise any mind-blowing art but I’m not half bad.”

You should say no - you want to say no, you hate anything that puts you in the spotlight, but he’s looking at you so plaintively that before you really know what you’re doing you open your mouth and say, “Sure, I guess.”

“Great.” He’s grinning that grin again, and he and Bokuto are whisking you away. You turn to cast a final glance over your shoulder at Kenma who gives you a look that you can only interpret as Good Luck.

-

“How did you get that from that?” One of Bokuto’s cousins asks skeptically, after you correctly guessed the winning clue from the collection of lines and circles Kuroo had drawn on the paper. “You’re sure you’re not cheating?”

“Right hand to God.” Kuroo lifts both hands in defense, proclaiming both of your innocence. “Turns out Y/N is just damn good at Pictionary.” He lifts his hand and you slap it in a high five.

“And you didn’t know each other before tonight?”

“Nope.” You shake your head. “I have known Kuroo for-” You glance at the time on your phone. “An hour and a half, apparently.” You had no idea you’d been playing for that long. “Bokuto can confirm.”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” He grumbles, cheek propped on his fist. “You’re not allowed to be partners anymore!” He looks at the two of you.

“Someone’s just salty that they lost.” Kuroo leans conspiratorially towards you. “Bokuto and Akaashi are the reigning champions, but they’ve just been dethroned.”

You stick out your tongue at Bokuto. Akaashi just shrugs. He doesn’t seem to be taking it as hard. “Anyway, it’s time to turn on the TV so we can watch the ball drop.” Bokuto shoves away from the table. “Come on, if you want to watch.”

“I’m gonna go make Kenma come out to watch.” Kuroo tells you. “Save the couch for us!” You do as he asks, plopping down and stretching out on the comfier-looking of the two couches. Kuroo soon returns with a disgruntled-looking Kenma in tow, and you scoot to the end so that the two can join you.

Now that you’re sitting still and the lights are dimmed in the room, sleepiness begins to overtake you even though it’s still over an hour until midnight. The celebrations are playing on TV, but you’re idly watching without paying them any real attention. Kuroo is seated next to you, and you aren’t sure if it’s intentional, but his arm is resting against yours. It’s nice, but you feel your cheeks begin to heat up when you really start to consider the situation.

Here you are, sitting next to a boy you have literally just met. A cute boy, if you’re being honest, with a ridiculous sounding laugh and a smile that makes your middle quivery and a personality that makes you wish you were his friend. And for some reason, he's sitting next to you by his own free will.

Suddenly, part of you wants to escape the entire situation, because it’s getting a little too real. You look around and catch Akaashi’s eye. Shouldn’t you be sitting with him and Bokuto? Your friends? The reasons you’re even here in the first place?

Akaashi flashes you a smile. Next to him, Bokuto, for some reason, sends you a thumbs up, then goes back to chatting with the person he’d introduced to you as Konoha. They don’t seem to mind that you aren’t sitting with them.

“Crazy that this whole year is over already.” Kuroo muses, and, startled, you snap your head to look back at him. He seems to be speaking to both you and Kenma, who’s back on his phone. Kenma just hums in response.

“Yeah.” You shake your head, trying to clear it. “Makes you feel old, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly.” Kuroo points at you. “It’s like, time is passing so fast and slipping through our fingers, and if we don’t stop and take the time to enjoy it, it’ll be gone before we know it.”

“Kuroo, stop philosophizing.” Kenma speaks up.

“Hey, Y/N doesn’t mind.” He leans a little closer to you and asks out of the corner of his mouth, “Do you mind?”

You laugh softly. “No.” It’s the truth. Somehow, you find it so easy listening to him, talking to him. There’s something familiar about him, like you’ve somehow known him your whole life. Even your nerves about this whole situation are slowly dissolving, and you feel yourself relaxing. 

As the end of the year counts down on the TV screen, you chat with Kuroo and occasionally Kenma about everything. The conversation doesn’t have any real direction, but neither of you really mind. Sometimes, you lapse into silence for a few minutes, watching the events on TV, and even that is comfortable. Finally, the time comes down to a minute before midnight.

“Hey.” Kuroo says, shifting a bit so he can look at you more directly. “Only a minute left.” He pauses. “Have you ever had a New Year’s kiss before?”

“Well.” You duck your head, suddenly nervous again. “Not really.” You clear your throat. “No. What about you?” For some reason, you’re scared to know what his answer will be. He shakes his head.

“Nope. Never really worked out before, I guess.” He tilts his head, focused on you. “Maybe... can I kiss you this year?”

“Yeah.” You agree quickly, before you have time to overthink it. “I’d like that.” You smile. You twist your fingers together in your lap, glancing from his eyes to his lips, then to the timer on the TV.

“Ten! Nine!” Everyone in the room begins counting down along with the timer. “Eight! Seven! Six!” His face is even closer to yours, and he has the softest smile. “Five! Four! Three!” He lightly rests one hand on your cheek. “Two! One!” And his lips are on yours. The kiss doesn’t last long, but it’s firm and sweet. He pulls away, but his face is still inches from yours.

“Happy New Year.” He whispers, smile growing.

“Happy New Year.” You murmur back, feeling your own smile creep across your face. Happy, indeed.

Almost an hour later, the guests have begun to filter out of the party, but you’re still seated on the couch with Kuroo, chatting away. Next to him, Kenma’s phone has fallen to his lap and his head is tilted back. He’s snoring softly. You, however, aren’t feeling very tired.

“Bokuto.” Akaashi asks him, the two of them pausing in their cleanup to glance your way. “I was wondering why you were so adamant about inviting Y/N to the party. Have you been meddling?”

Bokuto grins at him. “Oh, Akaashi. I don’t think they call it meddling if it’s a success.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Bokuto.” But Akaashi smiles anyway. He can’t help it, seeing how happy you look.

[dettiot]

Fic: late-night interruption 4/?

late-night interruption Author: dettiot Rating: G (for now) Summary: When Obi-Wan receives a late-night comm from Sabé, he’s not sure what to expect. But what he learns will change many lives . . . and the fate of the Republic. Note:  This chapter took a little extra time and turned out differently than I thought it would--mostly because Obi-Wan and Anakin insisted on being epic bros with a complicated relationship. :-) Hope you enjoy!

Also on AO3!

XXX

As Obi-Wan waited for Anakin to arrive on the Vigilance, he turned over everything that had happened. It was . . . he still had a hard time believing everything he had learned tonight. Not just about Anakin, but about himself. 

There probably wasn’t enough time, but--but he needed to meditate. 

Sinking down onto the floor, he crossed his legs and settled his mind. He reached out, drawing the Force around himself and seeking its guidance. 

Whenever he tried to meditate on Coruscant, he always felt sluggish by the time he finished. Like he was covered in a slimy liquid, slowing his movements. At least here, in space, it felt a little easier to reach the Force. 

As he stretched out with his senses, he tried to let go of his worries and doubts. Tonight had reminded him of the dark days when he had begun training Anakin. When he was grieving his master while needing to act wise and all-knowing for Anakin’s sake. 

His doubts had slowly faded and Obi-Wan had thought he had moved past those emotions. He had thought he had released his insecurities into the Force and healed himself. But . . . but tonight showed he hadn’t really let go of those emotions. 

And there were other feelings he needed to let go of, feelings that were still with him. 

An image of Satine flashed through his mind, spitting mad and absolutely beautiful, before Obi-Wan shook his head and sank deeper into the Force. 

This deep, he could sense Anakin’s approach to his quarters. It allowed him to bring his meditation to a close and steady himself. So when Anakin pressed the panel outside the door, Obi-Wan was ready to rise and open the door for him. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, looking at him. Then, to Obi-Wan’s amazement, Anakin stepped forward and hugged him. 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, slowly patting Anakin’s back. “I didn’t think things were so bad that we needed to start hugging . . .” 

Anakin let out a soft huff of laughter and pulled away. “I know you’re not comfortable with anything that shows attachment, but . . . but I think I’m done with not showing how I feel.” 

“So up until now, you haven’t been showing your emotions?” Obi-Wan asked with a quirked eyebrow. 

His former padawan only snickered. “Are you ready to go?” 

“I still have to contact the Council,” Obi-Wan said with a sigh. 

“Or . . .” 

“Or?” Obi-Wan asked, before shaking his head. “Oh, no. We can’t leave without informing the Council.” 

Anakin held up his hands. “Of course we have to tell the Council. But why not wait until we get to Coruscant?” 

“Because you’ll want to go right to Padmé without any delay instead of reporting to the Council?” Obi-Wan pointed out. “We can’t leave without permission.” 

Lowering his hands, Anakin got a mulish look on his face. “We’re Jedi and Generals.”

“Which doesn’t mean we operate without rules,” Obi-Wan said, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

A heavy sigh came from Anakin, along with a sense of resignation in his Force presence. “You’re right.” 

“If only I had thought to record that on my comm. Then I could play it back in fond remembrance of this moment,” Obi-Wan said dryly, looking at him. 

“Don’t ruin this, Master,” Anakin muttered. He straightened his robes and nodded to him. 

“You’re staying?” Obi-Wan asked in surprise. Normally, Anakin preferred to let him deal with the Council when they were in the field. 

He shrugged. “It’s only fair, since we’re asking for leave because of me.” 

Well, this was unexpected. In their earlier conversation, he had sensed Anakin’s resolve to change. It was a pleasant surprise to see him attempting to follow through so soon. 

Obi-Wan inputted the frequency for the Jedi Council, folding his hands into the sleeves of his robe as he waited. Even though it was approaching midnight on Coruscant, it did not take long for the face of Master Windu to appear. 

“Master Kenobi, Master Skywalker,” he greeted them, his sense indicating concern and mild confusion.

“Good evening, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan said. “All is well. However, both Anakin and I have a matter on Coruscant to attend to, so we will be returning to the capital and leaving the 212th and 501st in the capable hands of Commander Cody and Captain Rex.” 

“Oh?” Mace’s confusion shifted now into suspicion. “I wasn’t aware of anything occurring on Coruscant . . .” 

Obi-Wan maintained his calm, even as he felt Anakin twitch beside him. “It’s a personal matter, Master Windu.”

“A . . . personal matter,” Mace said, raising his eyebrows.

“Given the quiet at the moment, we did not see a problem with our request--” Obi-Wan said, only for Anakin to interrupt him. 

“Senator Amidala requested my presence, Master Windu.” 

If he wasn’t a Jedi, Obi-Wan would have shown his annoyance with Anakin. But since Anakin had thrown them into this gundark nest, he would have to get them out of it. Especially since without waiting for Mace to speak, Anakin plunged ahead.  

“The protocol droid that serves Senator Amidala was designed and built by me. I gave it to her three years ago, after my mission protecting her prior to the beginning of the war. Now 3-PO needs repairs, and no droid repair shops have been able to repair him. So the Senator requested my help, as soon as possible,” Anakin said firmly. 

Knowing Anakin as he did, Obi-Wan guessed that Padmé had helped him develop this story. It was all too plausible that Anakin would jump to tinker with a droid, and the fact that it would assist one of the Order’s biggest champions in the Senate would make such a request more likely to be granted. 

Yes, this had Padmé’s fingerprints all over it. It was perfectly designed to seem like an innocuous favor that was easy to grant. Which was probably why Mace agreed. 

“Very well, Master Skywalker,” he said, his face smoothing into his normal expression. “I look forward to seeing both you and Master Kenobi in person, instead of via holo. And to have your insight during the Council’s discussions.” 

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said with a bow. He gave Anakin a gentle nudge through their Force bond, and he also bowed. 

“May the Force be with you,” Mace said, signing off. 

As soon as the visual faded, Anakin let out a breath. “He went for it.” 

“I suppose,” Obi-Wan said, his mind turning. “Or he’d rather deal with us in person. Notice how he didn’t say anything about me coming along to help fix Padmé’s droid, when I’d be of no use in such a task.” 

Anakin shrugged. “We’ll deal with that later. Let’s go.” 

How many times in his life had he heard Anakin promise they would deal with something later, only for him to have to deal with the situation? Giving his head a shake, Obi-Wan followed Anakin into the corridor. 

They walked towards the hangar, Anakin falling quiet. Obi-Wan could tell he was distracted--probably thinking about Padmé. Worrying about Padmé, actually. 

These dreams Anakin had mentioned, seeing Padmé dying . . . it worried Obi-Wan. This wasn’t the first time Anakin had dreams that tied him into knots. And Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if his advice back then would work now. 

In fact, it hadn’t worked back then, either. 

Obi-Wan took a deep breath as he considered what he should do. What was it about Anakin that made all the wisdom of the Jedi Order, passed down over a thousand years, seem out-of-touch and wrong? 

“What is it, Master?” 

“Oh, just pondering your unique abilities,” Obi-Wan said lightly, not wanting to broach such a heavy topic of conversation while walking down the corridors of his ship. 

Anakin frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.” 

Smiling, he lightly patted Anakin on the shoulder. “We’ll talk about this on the shuttle.” 

He smiled wider as Anakin grumbled. But his smile fell as Anakin’s Force sense leaked cunning amusement. And then Anakin took advantage of his longer legs to race ahead of him to the hanger. 

“You are too old for this,” Obi-Wan protested, attempting to catch up with him. 

Anakin’s only response was a smile and to speed up, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help smiling back a little. He allowed Anakin to go ahead as he mulled over his current state. 

Normally, meditation settled him and brought him calm. But tonight, it felt like his emotions were more present, more vivid, than he had experienced in a long time. He wondered why this was happening. 

By the time he reached the shuttle, Anakin was halfway done with the start-up sequence. Obi-Wan dropped into the co-pilot’s seat but didn’t even bother putting his hands on the controls. Anakin had everything well in hand. 

Within a few moments, Anakin had pulled away from the Vigilance and sent the shuttle into hyperspace. Then he turned and looked at Obi-Wan. “We’re on the shuttle now.” 

Nodding, Obi-Wan turned to look at Anakin. “I was thinking about what happened the last time you talked to me about dreams that were bothering you.” 

XXX

At Obi-Wan’s words, it was all he could do not to curl up in a ball. 

The death of his mother was still a raw, festering sore at the center of his being. No matter how much power he might have, he would always feel guilty and weak and angry because he hadn’t been able to save her. 

And no matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to let it go. Like Obi-Wan had told him to do, like Padmé had gently suggested. If he let go of the pain . . . it would mean he was all right with losing his mother. And he would never be able to accept that.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quietly, resting his hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you before.” 

“I know,” he said, his voice hoarse as he tried to hold back tears. 

Obi-Wan gripped his shoulder and pushed, turning Anakin to face him. “I will do everything in my power to help you, Anakin. To not fail you again. So tell me more about your dreams with Padmé.” 

Taking a deep breath, he wiped a hand over his face and did his best to sit up straight. “I see her in pain . . . she’s calling out for me . . . the baby is coming and it’s . . . ” 

“Any other details?” 

Anakin shook his head. “No.” 

His master frowned, stroking his beard slowly before looking at him. “Do you think these dreams are prompted by the Force?” 

“What else could they be?” Anakin asked, feeling defensive. Because what was Obi-Wan trying to say?

“You care so deeply for people, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly. “With such a level of caring, it’s very easy for your mind to create horrors without any influence from the Force.” 

“I guess,” Anakin said, before feeling annoyed with himself. Just because Obi-Wan didn’t think this was the work of the Force was no reason to act like a child with him. 

He blew out a breath and rolled his shoulders. “So . . . how can I figure out if it’s just me, or if the Force is trying to tell me something?” He paused, then sighed. “Wait, don’t tell me.” 

Obi-Wan smiled fondly. “Meditation does help me sort through my feelings and determine how the Force is influencing me.” 

“I can’t remember the last time I meditated,” Anakin said. “The traditional way, at least.” 

“The traditional way?” Obi-Wan asked, sounding confused. 

“You know--sitting down, sinking into the Force, feeling the flow,” Anakin said, waving a hand in the air. 

Leaning back in his seat, Obi-Wan said, “As compared to you tinkering or flying to meditate?” 

Anakin nodded, trying not to squirm. For as long as he could remember, the only time he could truly achieve a meditative state was by doing something with his hands. It was only then that he was able to truly enter the flow of the Force. 

It was one more thing that made him feel he was failing at being a Jedi. 

“We haven’t meditated together in quite a long time. Perhaps that would help.” 

Now he really wanted to squirm. Even before he had married Padmé, he had held off on meditating with Obi-Wan. He hadn’t wanted to be exposed to his master’s true feelings about him. Because Obi-Wan must be disappointed in him or regretful that Anakin wasn’t more like him. 

And once he had married Padmé, he was too scared about Obi-Wan seeing something that would reveal the truth.

But Obi-Wan now knew about Padmé. And . . . and he had acted really upset at the thought of Anakin confessing the truth to the Council on his own to keep Obi-Wan out of it. He still couldn’t believe how angry Obi-Wan had gotten. 

Maybe . . . maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 

“We’ve got a couple of hours until we reach Coruscant,” Anakin said, giving Obi-Wan his best attempt at a smile. “And I need something to keep me from just worrying about Padmé.” 

With his own slightly-strained smile, Obi-Wan rose from his chair and sank onto his knees on the durasteel deck plating. 

Taking the time to set the navcomputer to alert them for their entry into realspace, Anakin joined Obi-Wan, taking the same position. He breathed in and out a few times, seeking a measure of calm, before he looked to Obi-Wan.

With a nod, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Anakin could feel him reaching through their Force bond, and he closed his eyes as well as he reached back. 

In the past, Obi-Wan’s Force presence had always felt like a wide, endless ocean. As a child, all that water had been so strange, so amazing--mirroring Anakin’s feelings about Obi-Wan. As he grew older, though, those calm waves made Anakin feel comforted and supported. 

Right now, though, there were signs of Obi-Wan’s distress, in the height and strength of the waves, the dark skies. But there was also sunlight. It wasn’t hopeless--but then, Obi-Wan never seemed to lose hope. 

Anakin felt himself relaxing, settling, sensing the Force in a new way. He could feel how the galaxy was connected, could feel the light of so many people. And he could focus on those feelings more than he could in his usual meditations. 

Faintly, he could feel Obi-Wan supporting him as he searched for the truth about Padmé and his dreams. Was the Force warning him? Or was it simply his mind, projecting his greatest fear into nightmares?

Memories brushed past him as he sought answers. He saw Master Qui-Gon smiling fondly and Ahsoka walking away from him. His hands clutched the handles of his podracer and his right arm burned from Dooku’s lightsaber cut. The feel of his first kiss with Padmé and his mother’s arms around him. Obi-Wan’s soft laughter and Padmé crying out that he was breaking her heart. Maul screamed “KENOBI!” and a youngling looked up at Anakin with fear in his eyes. 

The Duchess Satine, softly touching Obi-Wan’s beard. Padmé, smiling at him as she held up a blanket-wrapped baby. And the Chancellor, his eyes cold and sunken in an incredibly wrinkled face, cackling as he . . . as he duelled with Master Yoda?

In unison, both Anakin and Obi-Wan broke free of their meditation, their chests heaving. Anakin felt his skin crawl at what he had seen. 

Obi-Wan stared at him, almost panting. “A-Anakin?” he said breathlessly. 

“Was that the future?” he asked bleakly, still trying to catch his breath but--but needing to know he wasn’t the only one scared by this vision. 

“I--I don’t know,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“The Chancellor duelling with Master Yoda? That--that can’t be real,” Anakin said, rising to his feet to pace. He nearly stumbled on the hem of his robes as he turned to look at Obi-Wan. “Because that would mean the Chancellor--”

Anakin shook his head, cutting off his words as he turned away from Obi-Wan. Because it was not possible that Chancellor Palpatine was a Sith Lord. He was completely blank in the Force, with no sensitivity at all! 

“She wasn’t wearing the headdress.” 

“Huh?” Anakin said, looking at Obi-Wan. 

His former master looked up at Anakin, his eyes bleak. “Satine. That image of her? It wasn’t a memory.” 

For a moment, he wondered if Obi-Wan was seeing what he wanted to see. But using a technique to improve short-term and long-term memory, Anakin realized he was right. 

In his memory of seeing Satine flirt with Obi-Wan about his beard, her face was framed by a headdress, with lilies braided into her hair. But in what they had both just seen, Satine’s soft blonde hair hung loose about her face. 

He opened his mouth to ask Obi-Wan if Satine had ever worn her hair like that, but something made him stop. Because he had also seen Padmé, holding up their child to him . . . 

She survived childbirth. She lived. She wasn’t going to die!

A soft chime startled Anakin, making him look around wildly for a moment, before he realized it was the alarm for dropping out of hyperspace. And there, filling the viewscreen, was Coruscant. 

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan. “Now we really have a lot to talk about.” 

Obi-Wan nodded and smiled wanly. “But first, we have to get to Padmé.”

He couldn’t agree more--this close to the planet, he could sense Padmé and feel the pain she was in. There wasn’t a moment to waste. 

So Anakin sat in the pilot’s chair to prepare for entry into Coruscant’s atmosphere, while Obi-Wan slowly pulled himself into the co-pilot seat to request permission to land. 

XXX

When she blinked her eyes open, it felt like the middle of the night. Not just because she could see moonlight turning the dark walls into pastel shades, but because she felt the same pain in her heart, the one that only seemed present in those quiet hours before dawn. 

Or maybe it was just her body, still healing, giving her that sharp pain in her chest. 

With a gentle exhale to push away her thoughts, she carefully eased herself upright and ran a hand over her head. Her hair was shorn close to her scalp and she still wasn’t used to the short bristles. 

She needed more rest, she knew. Rubbing her eyes, she shifted to lay down, only for a soft vibration to go through her body. From the comm unit she kept tucked under her pillow.

There was only one person who had her comm frequency. 

Even as her body protested her quick movements, she reached out for her comm and answered it. 

A blue-tinged image appeared before her and her breath caught in relief at the sight of her sister.  

Bo-Katan looked at her levelly, her helmet tucked under her arm. Her eyes held hers as she spoke. 

“It’s time, Satine.” 

End, Chapter 4

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

The wrong girl, pt.10/Finale

Summary: Y/N comes home to Ethan, finding him in a fit of rage that quickly disappears when he sees her.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

The Wrong Girl - Masterlist

Ethan couldn't stand still absolutely feral after witnessing Jack sticking his tongue down Y/N's throat forcefully just as the feed cut off. He noticed her hands push at his chest, trying to fight him off. He heard her muffled scream and it made a tear in his heart. Ethan felt like a wounded beast. After all, a wounded beast is most dangerous when someone tries to take what's his.

Ethan crashed his phone against the floor, getting up with a guttural growl of utter hate and incredible helplessness. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed, he bared his teeth, wanting to rip into someone, anyone.

Grayson saw trouble coming and although he felt the same way, he knew that one of them had to keep control or they would have a repeat of one of the most frustrating and darkest moments of their lives that resulted in both of them wearing a cast for a full month.

Tackling Ethan to the bed, Grayson used his body to hold him down, seeing Ethan spit as he fought him on it, shouting as loud as he can.

"Let me the fuck go!" Ethan trashed under his brother, willing to hurt him if he gets a chance.

"SHE NEEDS ME!" Desperation laced in his voice, palpable anger teared at his vocal chords.

"He fucking kissed her! I need to protect her! Grayson, let me the fuck go!"

But it was of no use. Usually, despite being seemingly less buff than Grayson, Ethan would easily have him beat in any fight because while Grayson used brute force, Ethan had a better way of strategizing his moves. It's also why Ethan was the wrestling champion back in high school and not the other way around. But in this particular situation, while he felt his skin could vibrate off his body and his head would explode under the fire that Jack set in his mind, Ethan had been robbed of the ability to think properly, let alone strategize. All he saw with his tunnel vision is a red flash and the moment Jack kissed his snowflake on repeat. He couldn't overthrow Grayson, or even hear the attempts to calm him down with words.

It took almost ten minutes of undisputed rage for him to be able to hear his brother.

"She'll be home soon, you gotta calm down bro. She can't see you this way. She needs you to be her anchor not a raging storm now." And the words did work, clearing his mind from the dark, thunderous clouds and he finally saw properly, his breathing still ragged and labored, but slowly returning to norm.

On cue, a small, rather weak voice sounded just behind them.

“Let him go. It’s okay.” Y/N’s request didn’t go unheard, Grayson doing what she asked instantly, allowing Ethan to scramble to his feet and fully take Y/N’s presence in.

She stood with her shoulders dropped, her eyes on her fidgeting hands and her lips drawn into her mouth as she thought about what she could say.

Grayson wanted to put her up on his shoulders and carry her around like the queen he saw her as, but he knew she might not be so fond of touch, especially from men. Ethan on the other hand didn’t know what to do - trapped between his rage and worry for her on one side and the terrible need to wrap her in his arms and never let her out of his bed again.

“I’m pretty sure you just got us a solid win in court. They both had NDAs and would have had to pay us anyway, but you saved our reps too. That was pretty cool. Thank you.” Grayson tried to break the tension, hoping to ease her into talking to either of them, more so with Ethan because Grayson knew his brother needed Y/N more than anything.

“Fuck pleasantries, I want to be alone with her, please?” Ethan raised both eyebrows, placing one hand on his left hip and the other used to rub his chin, noticing Y/N flinch visibly, boldly meeting his gaze, unblinking and fierce as he knew her to be.

“Sure.” Passing by, Grayson patted Y/N’s shoulder, hoping it didn’t seem insensitive, genuinely still lost on what he was supposed to do.

“I’m fine.” She spoke the very moment Grayson closed the door, stepping closer toward Ethan, meeting him halfway as he already make his way toward her in strides.

Cupping her cheeks, Ethan leaned in, resting his forehead on hers, his eyes closed with a deep sigh leaving his parted lips - his breath fanning her face.

He knew that opening his eyes could kill him for her beauty is something he still struggled to deal with. She’s absolutely gorgeous, unable to contain herself just as the Sun can’t stop itself from shining or how the rain can’t stop itself from falling. And he definitely didn’t know how someone like her is real, a dream come alive in his heart and mind.

“I want to kill him.” Ethan whispered lowly, brushing his nose against her, noticing her angle her head up ever so slightly, her lips almost on his.

“I know. But you won’t. He’s the past and you’re...here. I just want to let it go.” Pecking his bottom lip, Y/N slid her hands over his forearms, her fingertips dancing along his skin until she reached the backs of his hands that laid on her face.

“Just tell me you love me and cuddle me for a few hours and after...we can go and celebrate the win with Grayson.” She smiled, the action causing her lips to brush his - an innocent action that stirred something up inside him, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. There would be time for something more in the future and she didn’t need sex right now - she needed the sweetness, the fluff and he’d give her all the soft he can fathom.

“I love you. I. LOVE. YOU.” Ethan emphasized each word, wanting to make sure she heard him. After all, he meant it, felt it in every cell his body is comprised of. She made him want to be better, do better and if she needed him to be vocal about how he feels, he’d always be there to reassure her.

“And I love you.” Hearing her say it made his heart flutter, his lips claiming hers on instinct, hoping it’s alright and she didn’t waste time in returning the kiss.

Returning to bed, their kiss broke, resting their heads on the pillows as her back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around her tightly, making sure they’re as close as possible.

And for the first time in a year, everything made sense. Their journey to one another was rocky, to put it mildly, but to be in that bed, with the unrestricted amount of vanilla scented musk she used to try to memorize in every hug they shared - prolonging the hugs because no amount of contact was ever enough to replicate the scent in her mind once he was gone, all of that - the intimacy and the soft side of him coming out just because she asked it of him, it made the pain worth it.

Ethan Dolan was worth it.

Tags: @accalialionheart @fallinginlove-16 @xalayx @heyits-claire @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @ethanhes  @peacedolantwins @blackpinkdolan @dolandrabbles @softiegrant @inlovewithethandolan @graydolan12 @reblogserpent @dominantdolan  

[theculturedmarxist]

The New York Times is literally a propaganda outlet and Timothy Egan is a deceitful chode. His every word drips with the anxious desperation of the Democrats who know their goose is cooked.

Watching “Succession,” the HBO show about the most despicable plutocrats to seize the public imagination since the Trumps were forced on us, made me want to tax the ultrarich into a homeless shelter. And it almost made a Bernie Bro of me.

That’s the thing about class loathing: It feels good, a moral high with its own endorphins, but is ultimately self-defeating. A Bernie Sanders rally is a hit from the same pipe: Screw those greedy billionaire bastards!

Sanders has passion going for him. He has authenticity. He certainly has consistency: His bumper-sticker sloganeering hasn’t changed for half a century. He was, “even as a young man, an old man,” as Time magazine said.

But he cannot beat Donald Trump, for the same reason people do not translate their hatred of the odious rich into pitchfork brigades against walled estates.

Because powerful oligarchs that own their government murder them with impunity when they do.

>March 7 was a bitterly cold day in Detroit, and a crowd estimated at between 3,000 and 5,000 gathered near the Dearborn city limits, about a mile from the Ford plant. The Detroit Times called it "one of the coldest days of the winter, with a frigid gale whooping out of the northwest". Marchers carried banners reading "Give Us Work, "We Want Bread Not Crumbs", and "Tax the Rich and Feed the Poor". Albert Goetz gave a speech, asking that the marchers avoid violence. The march proceeded peacefully along the streets of Detroit until it reached the Dearborn city limits.

>There, the Dearborn police attempted to stop the march by firing tear gas into the crowd and began hitting marchers with clubs. One officer fired a gun at the marchers. The unarmed crowd scattered into a field covered with stones, picked them up, and began throwing stones at the police. The angry marchers regrouped and advanced nearly a mile toward the plant. There, two fire engines began spraying cold water onto the marchers from an overpass. The police were joined by Ford security guards and began shooting into the crowd. Marchers Joe York, Coleman Leny and Joe DeBlasio were killed, and at least 22 others were wounded by gunfire.

>The leaders decided to call off the march at that point and began an orderly retreat. Harry Bennett, head of Ford security, drove up in a car, opened a window, and fired a pistol into the crowd. Immediately, the car was pelted with rocks, and Bennett was injured. He got out of the car and continued firing at the retreating marchers. Dearborn police and Ford security men opened fire with machine guns on the retreating marchers. Joe Bussell, 16 years old, was killed, and dozens more men were wounded. Bennett was hospitalized for his injury.

> All of the seriously wounded marchers were arrested, and the police chained many to their hospital beds after they were admitted for treatment. A nationwide search was conducted for William Z. Foster, but he was not arrested. No law enforcement or Ford security officer was arrested, although all reliable reports showed that they had engaged in all the gunfire, resulting in deaths, injuries and property damage. The New York Times reported that "Dearborn streets were stained with blood, streets were littered with broken glass and the wreckage of bullet-riddled automobiles, and nearly every window in the Ford plant's employment building had been broken".

The United States has never been a socialist country, even when it most likely should have been one, during the robber baron tyranny of the Gilded Age or the desperation of the Great Depression, and it never will be. Which isn’t to say that American capitalism is working; it needs Teddy Roosevelt-style trustbusting and restructuring. We’re coming for you, Facebook.

Yeah, just look how well that’s worked out, you fucking idiot.

The next month presents the last chance for serious scrutiny of Sanders, who is leading in both Iowa and New Hampshire. After that, Republicans will rip the bark off him. When they’re done, you will not recognize the aging, mouth-frothing, business-destroying commie from Ben and Jerry’s dystopian dairy. Demagogy is what Republicans do best. And Sanders is ripe for caricature. 

The same Republicans that got their breakfast ate by the dottering windbag cheetoman? The same Republicans that are unpopular with over half the fucking country? The same Republicans which have shown majority support for Sanders’s policies in the past? Those are the Republicans you’re talking about, right, Timothy, you fucking asshole?

I’m not worried about the Russian stuff — Bernie’s self-described “very strange honeymoon” to the totalitarian hell of the Soviet Union in 1988, and his kind words for similar regimes. Compared with a president who is a willing stooge for the Russian strongman Vladimir Putin, a little vodka-induced dancing with the red bear is peanuts.

Nor am I worried about the legitimate questions concerning the candidate’s wife, Jane Sanders, who ran a Vermont college into the ground. Again, Trump’s family of grifters — from Ivanka securing her patents from China while Daddy made other promises to Beijing, to Don Jr.’s using the White House to leverage the family brand — give Democrats more than enough ammunition to return the fire.

This is fun. Due to a complete lack of incriminating conduct, little Timmy has to invent wrongdoing to libel Jane Sanders. I suppose he’s relying on his readers being too stupid to read the article that he himself links, another NYT hitpiece that desperately tries to paint Ms Sanders as a shady character without anything in the way of tangible proof.

>Federal prosecutors have not spoken publicly about their investigation, though late last year, Ms. Sanders’s lead lawyer said he had been told it had been closed. And while doubts remain about the contribution pledges claimed by the college, the lawyer has said that neither Ms. Sanders nor her husband was even questioned by investigators, indicating a lack of significant evidence of a crime.

>After Ms. Sanders’s ouster, the college’s troubles worsened. It abandoned a promising effort she had undertaken to sell some of its new land to improve its finances, interviews show. A few years later, when it did begin selling, it was to a consortium that secretly included at least one member of its board, raising conflict-of-interest questions.

>There is little question that the college’s 2016 demise can be traced to Ms. Sanders’s decision to champion an aggressive — critics say reckless — plan to buy the land. But with potential students put off by the lack of a campus, and with many such colleges struggling at the time, her move was the academic equivalent of a Hail Mary. Her allies said she never had a chance to fulfill her vision.

>“Jane made an audacious gambit to save the college,” said Genevieve Jacobs, a former faculty member. “It seemed to be a moment of ‘change or die.’”

>In interviews and emails, Ms. Sanders expressed frustration at her dismissal and the college’s failure to continue her rescue plan.

>“They went a completely different direction in every way than what we had proposed and decided upon as a board — with the bank, with the diocese, the bonding agency,” she said. “They didn’t carry out any of the plan. It was very confusing and upsetting at the time.”

The TL;DR seems to be: Jane Sanders tried to save a struggling school with an audacious but risky plan that ended up being aborted when she was let go by by a board, some of the members of which may have had a stake in seeing it fail. At the very least, a much more complex situation than the aspersion of “running it into the ground.”

Trump bragged about sexual assault, paid off a porn star and ran a fraudulent university. He sucks up to dictators and tells a half-dozen lies before he puts his socks on in the morning. A weird column about a rape fantasy from 1972 is not going to sink Bernie when Trump has debased all public discourse.

No, what will get the Trump demagogue factory working at full throttle is the central message of the Sanders campaign: that the United States needs a political revolution. It may very well need one. But most people don’t think so, as Barack Obama has argued. And getting two million new progressive votes in the usual area codes is not going to change that.

“Ah jeez, ah fuck, he has no sexual indiscretions that I can dredge up and his Feminist polemic against pornography and the rape culture that it engenders is old news, and if I actually reported on it honestly people might actually read it and support his ideas. Oh, well, you see, despite the incredible groundswell of support for just such a thing, Barack Obama, the man that gave the banks trillions of dollars and then allowed the state apparatus to function as their gestapo-cum-storm troopers, says we don’t need one!”

Timothy Egan wants to dismiss “two million new progressive votes” after doing a little gaslighting. His Democrat masters don’t want people to remember that it was Obama’s promises of Hope and Change after 8 years of Republican tyranny that generated a record breaking voter turnout. They would also like you to forget that 2016 was a 20-year low in voter turnout. Do you think those things are related, Mr Egan? Do you think that there might be some connection between Obama taking advantage of the desperation of millions of people, betraying them, and then those people not fucking showing up next time, causing your party to lose to the dimwit that they themselves boosted to the position?

Give Sanders credit for moving public opinion along on a living wage, higher taxes on the rich and the need for immediate action to stem the immolation of the planet. Most great ideas start on the fringe and move to the middle.

But some of his other ideas are stillborn, or never get beyond the fringe. Socialism, despite its flavor-of-the-month appeal to young people, is not popular with the general public. Just 39 percent of Americans view socialism positively, a bare uptick from 2010, compared with 87 percent who have a positive view of free enterprise, Gallup found last fall.

“Just” 39 percent of Americans, up 4% from 2016. This is ignoring for the moment that due to Americans’ piss-poor education system they have no idea what “Socialism” means aside from “more government.” Looking at the breakdown of results, it seems as though they just asked people off the top of their head what they thought about X, no definition or elaboration given. Unsurprisingly, when you look at the actual numbers on specific issues, you can see exactly why Egan has to play this deceptive bullshit: of respondents 18-34, 52% have a favorable view of “Socialism,” as opposed to 47% supporting “Capitalism.” This is in sharp contrast to the 35-54 and 55+ cohorts. 65% of Democrats have a favorable view of “Socialism.” Those with a “Liberal” ideology are even more in favor at 74%, Timothy Egan, you massive shithead.

What’s more, American confidence in the economy is now at the highest level in nearly two decades. That’s hardly the best condition for overthrowing the system.

"The highest level in nearly two decades.” That’s faint fucking praise right there.

You can see the tremendous fucking crater caused by the crash in 2007/8, a reversal of a whopping -81 points from the previous year. With many economists forecasting recession beginning either this year or the next, we’ll see how long the confidence lasts. 

So-called Medicare for all, once people understand that it involves eliminating all private insurance, polls at barely above 40 percent in some surveys, versus the 70 percent who favor the option of Medicare for all who want it. Other polls show majority support. But cost is a huge concern. And even Sanders cannot give a price tag for nationalizing more than one-sixth of the economy.

A ban on fracking is a poison pill in a must-win state like Pennsylvania, which Democrats lost by just over 44,000 votes in 2016. Eliminating Immigration and Customs Enforcement, another Sanders plan, is hugely unpopular with the general public.

“Medicare for all is really unpopular, except when it isn’t.”

Hmm, you know? Hmmm.

As for fracking, from his own link:

>A November poll conducted by the Kaiser Family Foundation and the Cook Political Report found that only 39 percent of Pennsylvania swing voters saw a fracking ban as a good idea, even as nearly 7 in 10 of those same voters said they supported the idea of a “Green New Deal” for the environment.

Democrats are whinging on the jobs “lost” to a fracking ban as though it exists in isolation. 39% might support a fracking ban, but 70% support the GND, which could potentially offset the “job loss” with industry that has the potential not to leave their state as a fucking environmentally ruined horror show. I haven’t run the numbers on this, but not living in a cesspool of polluted air and water tends to be pretty popular, Timbo.

More shellgames from Mr Egan regarding abolishing ICE.

> Only 1 in 4 voters in the poll, 25 percent, believe the federal government should get rid of ICE. The majority, 54 percent, think the government should keep ICE. Twenty-one percent of voters are undecided. 

That sounds bad. Maybe it’s not such a good ide

>But a plurality of Democratic voters do support abolishing ICE, the poll shows. Among Democrats, 43 percent say the government should get rid of ICE, while only 34 percent say it should keep ICE.

Oh.

Sanders is a rigid man, and he projects grumpy-old-man rigidity, with his policy prescriptions frozen in failed Marxist pipe dreams. He’s unlikely to change. I sort of like that about his character, in the same way I like that he didn’t cave to the politically correct bullies who went after him for accepting the support of the influential podcaster Joe Rogan.

Democrats win with broad-vision optimists who still shake up the system — Franklin Roosevelt, of course, but also Obama. The D’s flipped 40 House seats in 2018 without using any of Sanders’s stringent medicine. If they stick to that elixir they’ll oust Trump, the goal of a majority of Americans.

Democrats lose with fire-and-brimstone fundamentalists. Three times, the party nominated William Jennings Bryan, the quirky progressive with great oratorical pipes, and three times they were trounced. Look him up, kids. Your grandchildren will do a similar search for Bernie Sanders when they wonder how Donald Trump won a second term.

“Failed Marxist pipe dreams.” Aaaaay lmao. You should also have an inkling something is wrong when you have to go all the way back to FDR to find someone that supports your point. Talk about “poison pills,” Obama proved himself to be as much of a snake as the rest, and the effects of that resonated in 2016 when the Dems ran on a platform of “that’s a nice country you have there, you wouldn’t want Trump to get elected, would you?” How did that work out? You ran one of the most unpopular politicians in the country—after very blatantly rigging the primaries against Sanders to do so—against one of the most unpopular capitalists in the country, and lost, dipshit!

Ironically, I think Timbob’s closing statement will prove true, though not in the way his clown ass intends. Shills like Egan are doing everything they can to try and poison public perception against Sanders and his policies, who only proves increasingly popular as time goes on, so much so in fact that the DNC is already biting its nails and muttering to itself about ways it can try and cheat his supporters again.

In conversations on the sidelines of a DNC executive committee meeting and in telephone calls and texts in recent days, about a half-dozen members have discussed the possibility of a policy reversal to ensure that so-called superdelegates can vote on the first ballot at the party’s national convention. Such a move would increase the influence of DNC members, members of Congress and other top party officials, who now must wait until the second ballot to have their say if the convention is contested.

They deny it in the article, claim that changing the rules would be “bad sportsmanship,” but one would be a fool to believe them. If anything, their ambivalence towards relying on Superdelegates would make me even more nervous at this stage. Politico wants it to seem like the DNC is bent on playing fair, but more likely than not they have no intention of changing the convention rules because they believe there’s no need. With Warren’s flagging support and the luke-warm response to Biden, I doubt they’re overcome with optimism of beating Sanders in an honest primary. With all the shenanigans from last time’s primaries in mind, it’s likely that the machinery to rig the results their way is already in place—the primary could already be over before it even begins.

[neshabeingchildish]

Your Mom

Did not intend to have so many OCs here, but it's a moms-centric chapter and has some other folk you might come across in college - friends, coworkers and stuff. I gave Charlotte’s mom the name Rosemary and Jasper’s mom the name Pansy. Bear with me. Sorry. ILU thanks.

Your Mom

“Are the straights okay?” a friend typed as the caption of a post with a bride grabbing the groom and forcing him into marriage. Charlotte kept scrolling. The straights were not okay for a number of reasons, and that was one of the ones that she didn’t relate to, at all. There’d be no dragging of men to the altar for her. She was almost certain that somebody might have to drag her to one, in order for it to go down, if she was perfectly honest, but she’d lucked out and managed to find a decent man who managed to remake himself into a godsend for her, and she believed it was what she deserved. 

Being pampered on her period was one thing, but Jasper’s nurturing was like… constant. He’d figure out that something worked and he would go for it, tried and true and be her rock through just about anything. Some people didn’t like for things to remain the same. They felt like it was stagnant or got stale, but Charlotte hated change. She liked to be comfortable and the rollercoaster of fitting herself into Jasper’s world was one that had been uproarious and uncomfortable. While she hated that he seemed sad that he didn’t have the time to do a lot of the things that he used to, she loved not needing to dress up, go out, small talk or be seen by his friends as a bitch or a buzzkill, interact with people who were way drunker than her, and way stupider, even on their smartest days… Like… She was glad that he was too busy to socialize. But, she also felt bad about it, because Jasper thrived on that energy. 

He flourished and blossomed and without it, she was worried that he might wither into his former sadness. SO, she got out of her comfort zone, hated it the entire time and plotted to try to get schedules to arrange a couple’s camping trip with some of his frat bros and their current interests or partners. She felt more comfortable about doing something that they wouldn’t be on campus for and able to invite every stoner and wild child in town, but something that she could also enjoy. Nature, hiking, maybe even a little partying by the campfire, or perhaps, they could rent a cabin! She still had to sort the details out whenever she could figure out when schedules would allow it. But, it also meant speaking with his bosses. Now… The tattoo parlour, it was all good. They loved him. He brought a lot of customers in, and a lot of traffic and they considered him like family - he had that effect on people. But, the internship… It was unpaid and he also hadn’t been there for very long. She did some research to figure out who she might be dealing with. She knew that the guy at the firm who took him on was an alumnus of his fraternity, but she didn’t know much else. A little delving couldn’t hurt. This dude’s name is Bart? He goes by Barty? Wait… Bartholomew Buttkiss? She cackled and kept looking. Typical WASP shit. Involved with more companies than he would ever put on the Internet, children looking like they’re about to do The Purge, grandchildren looking like The Village of the Damned. Game hunting (exotic animals, asshole…), golf (eye roll), lacrosse champion… Jazz enthusiast… “Okay… Maybe I can work with this, Mr. Buttkiss.” Charlotte searched through his profiles and through interviews and really put WAY more time into that than she even had into planning the actual goddamn trip! BUT…

She showed up at the firm, around when Jasper usually took a lunch break (when he might have called her), but early enough that she was able to be there whenever Barty was gonna be heading out for golf with a buddy. Don’t ask her how she found that out… She wore a long jazz festival shirt with cute little musical notes leggings and packed a huge basket of treats, including some peach tarts, old Barty’s faves and she came up to the desk as she saw him coming from out of the work area. “Hi!” She said to the receptionist, “Hoping that Jasper Dunlop is available for lunch. I can certainly wait, if he’s not, but I hope it’s possible to let him know that Charlotte is here. I brought some treats for your troubles.” She set the basket on the desk and opened it to let the smell out. “I recommend the peach tarts. They’re homemade.” 

Barty headed over to the desk and asked, “I’m sorry, what’s happening here?”

Charlotte smiled at him and offered her hand, “Hi! I’m Charlotte. My fiance is an intern here. I’m trying to treat him to lunch, a little surprise. I brought enough treats at least for a few people.” 

“You said that you’ve got peach tarts, huh?” Barty asked and looked into the basket, then helped himself. He made a bunch of obnoxious noises that she almost broke character behind, before declaring, “These are some of the best peach tarts I’ve ever tasted! You made these? Mmmm.” He grabbed another.

“I did! I didn’t know what to make, so I have a selection of stuff here. Help yourself.”

“Jasper, was it? He’s a good kid. You’re his fiance?” He gave her a lookover, and she couldn’t tell if he was judging her or just looking. “I didn’t realize that he was engaged.”

“It’s new. I’m trying to make sure that I’m a good, supportive woman, you know, but you can’t tell a man anything when he’s used to doing things and being successful. I’m trying to plan a camping trip, for instance, and he INSISTS that there’s no way that he’d ever be able to take the time off. He’s never gonna ask for it, so I have to just do what I can and squeeze in these little moments where I can, you know? Gotta make sure that he knows that I love him enough to bake for the office and set up picnics.”

“Are you gonna be a housewife?”

“In this economy?” She asked, and laughed. “No. I mean, he wants to be the breadwinner, but I’m actually one of the top people in my class and already working professionally in my field, lower level things. We’ve all gotta start someplace, right? I’m at Ridgemont Diagnostics…”

“REALLY?” He was impressed. “Are you a debutante?”

“Oh, no… I’m doing all of it on this,” she pointed to her temple.

“Interesting. Well, listen, when does Jasper need some time off? He’s an intern. It’s not like the place will fall apart without him.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s more like he’s just passionate about proving himself and earning his keep. I was thinking definitely a weekend before hunting season kicks off. Him, some of the fraternity guys and their lovely ladies, just taking a break, you know?”

“Of course. Listen, here… what was your name again?”

“Charlotte Page, Sir.” 

He dug into his wallet and gave her a business card. “I want to get that tart recipe from you and you can email me when you want to take Jasper away. AND a jazz fan?” He said, noting her shirt, “I didn’t really know that kid had such good taste. His wardrobe is… interesting. Very nice to meet you.” He grabbed another tart and went on his way. It was a few minutes before Jasper ever came out.

He was smiling, in a simple button shirt with a very bright tie which she said, “Hey, F Sized… Stop wearing ties to work. Or wear like… old man ones that your boss might like.”

“He says that my ties are interesting.”

“Yeah, he told me the same thing. But, it was the way he said it.” He nodded and removed the tie. “So… Just so you know, you’re gonna have a free weekend and you, me, Coogie, Snek, and Fisher are gonna go camping.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just wooed your boss for a free weekend for you and the fellas are gonna bring a girl and we’re going camping near the mountains.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you haven’t been able to do anything that you enjoy with your friends, and I knew that I could most likely ask your boss without making it seem like YOU were trying to get out of work. Come on, I’ve got you some maple bacon pies and an extra thick milkshake. It’s thicker than you,” she said and winked at him. Whenever they got outside, she also pinched his butt. “I love that thing,” she said, smiling fondly at it. 

.

Hey, I am taking Jasper on a camping trip with some of his buddies. Can you look at the list of stuff that I’m bringing along and tell me if I left anything off? *Sends list*

Rosemary: Baby, I’ve never been camping before in my life, but I know that you’ve never been ill prepared for anything, a single day of your life. I’m sure if there’s something to think about that you’ve thought about it. Some of that stuff, I wouldn’t have even thought of.

Adanna: Friend, I think that you’re overthinking your relationship every since the ring. You know what’s best for yourself and Jasper. You’ve known for years, from what he’s told me and his dad. He thinks that you’re the smartest person alive and the most caring. Just trust yourself. You don’t need to ask us these things.

Charlotte: I just have never thought that I would ever be a fiancee or wife and it seems like I have to, idk, do something above and beyond? No?

Rosemary:You think that I’m over here going above and beyond? Honey, your dad is lucky if he gets my best as exhausting as it is to live with a man. As long as you love him, that will show up in how you treat him and what you do. There doesn’t need to be extra stuff…

Charlotte started another chat, with just her mother and Adanna: Okay… but, Jasper has a very rocky childhood and his family wasn’t really very loving, so I feel the way that I feel because I feel like I have to still undo some of the programming he’s had of what love is. I’ve sent him “I love you” messages before he goes to bed, every single night for almost 4 years now, just to try to get it in his mind that who loves you is the person who does nice things for you and to you. I have reminders in my phone to give him compliments, just as a self esteem booster, even though I know he gets plenty of fan love or whatever. I just… wanna do this right, you know? I didn’t wanna say all that in front of his mom. 

Rosemary: Would she even care?

Charlotte: I don’t know, but he would. That’s his mom. He’ll always love her, no matter what.

Rosemary: I dread my grandchildren being exposed to somebody like that.

Adanna: Why don’t you have everyone over and try to speak with her about the things that are unresolved? 

Charlotte: Like… everyone? Why not just you and Mom? 

Adanna: Sure, that sounds good to me.

Rosemary: I’ll do anything for you, Charlotte. She’d better watch herself…

.

She planned it for after the camping trip, which was fine. She wasn’t super excited to spend time with Jasper’s friends, but somehow, they were all so much more bearable than they usually seemed. Maybe everyone was growing up now, but not too much. All the ladies kept asking about wedding details and Jasper loved dishing about that, while Charlotte just kind of smiled uncomfortably, not wanting to admit that she didn’t know half this information and sort of having to bond with the fellas anytime it started up. “How’d he finally convince you?” Fisher asked. “I wanna know what to avoid.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes. He simply clanked his beer bottle against hers and took a drink. 

“I’ve known for a while that I’d be with Jasper for a long time, if he remembered that I care, and he eventually did.” She shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her rose beer (which was the only beer that she drank); she was a wine or daiquiri girl.

“Well, he initially told us whenever he first mentioned you that you were the woman he wanted to marry. I’m talking when we were pledging. He was all stressed out and sweaty, worried about the amount of time and energy he had to put into pledging. I thought he was crazy, but then we saw you and I was like, Ahhh, I get it now.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“That you’re hot,” he said and smiled. She pursed her lips and looked at him. “What?”

“You’re the dude who had everyone calling me Warden Page freshman year!”

“So?” She scoffed and shook her head. “Anyway, when are you two getting married?”

“Probably after senior year. I’ll still have some studies, but by that time, Jasper will probably be restless being a fiance and want to get the official stuff done.”

“When you say senior year, you mean like after next year, or after Big Dog gets the rest of his credits?” She looked confused. “With the whole major change thing…?”

“Oh! Oh, that!” She had no idea wtf he was talking about, “Yeah. Probably after THAT. The whole major thing…” She stuffed the bottle back into her mouth, finished and said, “I’m gonna go to the cooler for another. You need one of yours?”

“Yes, please, Warden Page.” She narrowed her eyes but was smiling gently. 

.

Charlotte waited until after the trip to ask Jasper, “So… what is the whole major thing… something with your credits?” He thought for a moment, then realized that they hadn’t discussed this yet and also that someone must’ve brought it up.

“Okay, I meant to talk to you about it, but I hadn’t figured out how to, just yet.”

“Why not in the same way that you told your bros?” She said, with a tight smile, trying not to be angry. Whatever this was, they could handle it.

“Well, I told them because I didn’t know if I’d need to stick around and live in the frat house for a little longer, because I switched to a double major and might have to add about a year, probably less! To… to… my transcript…” He looked so worried that she was going to be upset with him, but she was relieved. She didn’t know what she thought that he’d say, but she thought it was about to be awful. 

“Okay. Well, next time, please talk to me about things like this. Why… Why don’t we just… Maybe get an apartment together or something? I know that you’re at mine a lot already, but it’s a little small for you to you know, move all of your things in.”

“I’d prefer that we waited until after I’m done with school.”

“Okay… do you also wanna wait until then to get married?”

“Yeah. I think it’s the responsible thing to do, right?” He gave her a half smile, tentative, like he was really waiting on her to answer him.

“Right… But, also… if you’re reconsidering… I get it… I’d you know… understand…”

His eyes grew wide, “You’d understand? I wouldn’t understand that at all. Why would I have second thoughts about being with you?” 

“I don’t know. You just were super excited and ready to marry me ASAP, and now, you’re going to school longer, don’t wanna live with me AND want to prolong the wedding date.”

“I don’t want any of those things. I’m trying to make sure that I’m doing right by the woman who says that she’ll have me for the rest of my life. That’s something I take more serious than anything else. We’re gonna be a family, build a family… I’m not gonna build it on immature mistakes and hollow hopes. I’m… trying to do the work to be good enough.”

“You’re beyond good enough.”

“Good enough to feel good about it all. If we get an apartment and I have to cut corners somewhere, or accumulate debt or something - that affects us negatively and I just… I’m not doing that. I refuse to do that. I’m gonna be a good man, but also a real man.”

“You’re already that, Jasper. Never forget this, please?” She gave him a hug and kissed him on the chin, then grabbed a handful of butt. It was right there, so she kinda had to.

“I appreciate the level of butt stuff that I’ve gained by proposing,” he said and pulled her in by hers to kiss her. She didn’t know what he was talking about. She’d been playing on that donk since year one… She used to bounce stuff off of it.

.

Henry had the pleasure of bringing Jasper’s mom to Charlotte’s. Rosemary and Adanna rode together and pulled in shortly before Henry did. Henry and Jasper rushed to hug each other upon his arrival and Henry had a huge binder with material, colors, etc… stuff that you just wouldn’t be able to see very well on the computer or phone. He said he’d go say hi to Char and Jasper smiled towards his mother and said, “Thank you so much for coming. It really means a lot to us that you made the time.” She nodded, but didn’t offer anything else. But, whenever Rosemary and Adanna got out of Adanna’s van both women squealed happily and rushed to hug him. 

Charlotte sighed from the window as Henry came in and looked over her shoulder. “Whatcha lookin’ at?” 

She shook her head, “She didn’t even try to hug him. Everybody hugged him BUT her. This is the type of stuff that I have to help him through. She doesn’t even TRY! Why have a kid?”

“At least she only had one.”

The others came inside and Adanna immediately placed her hand over her heart, “I love the energy in this place, so much.” Rosemary hugged her daughter, then Adanna and Charlotte pulled Pansy into a hug, whether she wanted it or not. Jasper wrapped his hands around Charlotte’s waist from the back and said, “Let me know if you need anything.” He kissed her on the cheekbone and said, “I’m gonna look at this wedding stuff Hen’s got.” Lady and Tramp came running out of the bedroom and Jasper called them over to him, and he and Henry each grabbed one and went out to the patio with them and their stuff. 

“Want a drink or anything?” Jasper wondered.

“What have you got?”

“Juice or like all kinds, water, and I’m sure Char has some wine and rose beer.”

“Rose beer? That sounds gross. Is it gross?”

“No idea. I don’t drink, Man.”

“Oh yeah. I mean, I know you don’t drink, but you haven’t curiously tasted it or anything?”

“Naw. I don’t need to put that shit in my body,” Jasper said, petting Tramp’s head. Really, he was afraid of drinking. What if he had a problem with it, like his dad? He wasn’t gonna risk Charlotte the way that Jack Leigh had risked he and his mom. Speaking of, he glanced into the living room to see Charlotte inviting the ladies to be seated and letting them know what refreshments she had available.

.

“There’s sweet potato bites, varying garnishing like avocado, tomato and radish sprouts, or ricotta, cranberry walnut… I couldn’t decide which recipe was better. There’s also cucumber wrapped chicken or seafood with greek yogurt dip… some fruit, and Jasper’s got some goat and lamb in the kitchen… for dinner, with the sides and stuff. Anyway! There’s also spritzers.” 

“Charlotte, relax. Have a seat,” Rosemary advised. “We’re not hard to please. We’re here to support you, not for food.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She sat down and asked Jasper’s mom, “How are you? How was the drive?”

She looked put on the spot, but answered politely, “Henry drove. It was fine.” 

Charlotte nodded and smiled, then sat back in her seat. “Jasper took off tonight from the parlor, so that he and Henry could catch up, but he’s probably gonna pop in and out of here, just because he worries a lot. I’m thinking of suggesting that he moves on up to an in-person therapist. He’s been doing the therapy text service for years now and I think it’s been super helpful, but I really think that he could benefit more from someone face to face.” Pansy squirmed a little, but she didn’t say anything. “For instance, he told me that he just wants to get everything right, he doesn’t wanna get a divorce or remarry or anything like that, so he’s tacked on some more courses and we’re not going to get married or officially move in together until after that’s done.”

“That sounds like a wise choice!” Rosemary offered.

“It is, but it's not Jasper, you know? He’s impulsive. He’s very take action. He doesn’t usually plan it out this way.”

“That’s your influence, Sweetheart. Be proud of it.”

“I just really want us to be married already!” Charlotte said and was embarrassed after she did.

“Oh my God… Are you pregnant?” Pansy sat up abruptly and asked.

“What? No! I have a perfect GPA and educational and career trajectory. If I get pregnant, it’s gonna be on purpose, even with your son’s virility.”

Rosemary recoiled, “What does that mean?”

Casually, Charlotte said, “Oh, I took a sample from him to test it in the lab. He is extremely fertile. We won’t have any issues whenever we’re ready to create children… I just really love him and ever since he proposed, all that I can think about is what it’s gonna be like to be his wife. I know that isn’t very feminist, but he’s the kind of person that you just know will be excellent at these things. I’m slightly impatient about it and now it’s being pushed further away.”

Rosemary smiled and told the others, “I know what’s happening here. Whenever Jasper proposed, Charlotte’s brain plotted out a timeline of events and she maybe even made a vision board shortly afterwards to factor in that she now was gonna be a wife, and she’s made the adjustments and committed them to memory. She likes comfort and a huge change is making her uncomfortable, therefore, anxious. All she needs is a new plan of action for her timeline, but she does not like to have to change plans.”

“Mom, I am VERY versatile. I’ve had to make a lot of adaptable changes at work.”

“Changes that affected your home life?” Her mom asked. Charlotte frowned and grabbed a sweet potato. “Thought so. So… where do things change, on your last timeline?”

"I THOUGHT that I was getting married in less than a year… but now it's closer to two years."

"Have you told Jasper about how much you want to marry him sooner?" Adanna asked.

"No. I could tell he was serious about the route that he wants to go and I wanted to make sure that I don't persuade him into anything that he might resent me for later. He's very… afraid of making mistakes with serious stuff. I can't pressure him knowing how scared he is of failing."

"You don't pressure him. I'm suggesting just telling him how you feel."

She looked at his mom, "What do you think about it?"

"I think that kids get married so quickly these days and then they just fall apart. It's better to wait." Rosemary rolled her eyes and Pansy quickly tacked on, “I did the same thing and it affected my only child for the rest of his life and affected my life, too. So, I’m just throwing caution into the wind. Be sure that it’s what you are willing to do, not just what you think that you want.”

“My daughter makes good decisions,” Rosemary said.

“I’m sure.”

“What do you mean, “I’m sure?” Rosemary asked, her eyebrows up in challenge.

Pansy sighed and said, “She makes good grades and what-have-you. I don’t doubt that she’s a smart girl. I also know that being smart isn’t the only qualifier for being a good wife or good partner…”

“What are the other qualifiers on your list, Miss Pansy?” Charlotte asked and Rosemary leaned in closer, with pursed lips staring almost directly into Pansy’s face. Charlotte tried really hard not to snap, but since BEFORE she and Jasper were together, when she hadn’t even been a consideration, this woman had an issue with her and she was convinced it was because she was too brown for her liking, but she wanted to hear her admit to something, since they had the air and opportunity. 

“Well, you have to be willing to put up with a lot. Jasper is very needy and demanding. You’ve gotta have a lot of patience. He’s sweet, but not the smartest boy around and can haphazardly jump into unwise decisions. He wants a lot of attention and validation, and can be extremely exhausting about it…”

“Ever think that was because he was starved for those things?” Charlotte reflexively asked. Pansy gasped and Rosemary snorted. Adanna covered her mouth with a hand, but didn’t react beyond that. Charlotte was there, now. The woman had taken her there. “Listen, I can’t say that you made bad decisions. I don’t know your heart or your mind. I don’t know your intentions. What I can say is that I know Jasper. He’s NOT needy and demanding. He wants someone to show him love and he deserves that, so to me - that isn’t a burden. He’s VERY smart. But, he doesn’t know everything. He was semi-sheltered and didn’t have a frame of reference for a lot of stuff, but whenever he had the chance to go out into the world and learn and experience things, instead of having conversation topics and true facts withheld from him, whether out of misplaced protectiveness or shirking uncomfortable responsibility - Jasper is an all A student who is seen as an activist in this town. He’s a community leader. He still has weird ideas sometimes, but he’s also helped reformed a lot of things around here that a lot of these people didn’t have the drive or the heart to ever face head on and try to tackle. And it isn’t exhausting that he wants lots of attention and validation. It's heartbreaking, because I know for a fact that he didn’t get it from home and I know that I have to be one of the most present and stable suppliers of it, because even though he’s shown everyone that none of the things you just said about him are accurate, you still treat him that way, and your his mom, the person that he would most want to treat him how he deserves to be treated. He has to get that from Internet fame, from campus popularity, from town celebrity, and whenever he comes home to me, it still wasn’t what he was looking for, because he wants it real, from somebody that he loves. Currently, that’s me. I’m that supply. We’ve been together almost 4 years now, and you have yet to tell him that you’re proud of him, or that he’s made a good decision, or that you LOVE him, WITHOUT invalidating it shortly after with some contradictory behavior. You have yet to tell him that you’re happy for him, for winning competitions and trophies, and making dean’s lists and having a hand in public policy reform. Are you… a fucking soulless monster?” Charlotte’s voice cracked. Rosemary was ready to fight, now. Hurting your own child was bad enough, but now she had spread her malice to Rosemary’s child and that wasn’t something that Bolton folk tolerated. 

Jasper had peeked into the room and saw Charlotte’s face and told Henry he’d be back. The woman turned whenever the patio door opened and Jasper threw a pissed off glance in Pansy’s direction, certain that whatever was wrong with Charlotte, she was the cause of it. “Babe, you okay?” He asked, in a gentle tone and went right to her, collecting her hands and trying to get her to make eye contact with him. “Come on, let’s regroup, okay?” He helped her up and brought her into the bedroom. Their mothers began to quietly bicker about what had just happened and what had been happening. Jasper sat Charlotte on the bed and told her, “If you want her to leave, I’ll go tell her to leave, right now. No questions asked.” He cupped her cheek. “She can hurt me all she wants, but I draw the line at her hurting you. You do too much and you don’t deserve that.”

“You don’t either.”

“I know, I know, but…”

“But she’s your mom and you love her? But, what? She raised you? At least she was there? Please, help me understand why she’s so important to you that she gets to hurt you for 22 consecutive years and be brought along with you while you try to break out of the cocoon of that strife?”

“I… will let her go, if that’s what you think I should do.”

“I don’t… That’s not what I’m trying to do - make you feel like you need to let your mom go. I just want to understand it.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Well… I want to know that I did everything in my power to make sure that she felt like I was worth it. I want to feel like IF I ever did have to leave her behind, there was no other choice. I just don’t like the thought of leaving somebody behind just because they’re not who you’d want them to be. She didn’t do that to me. She kept me close, and she could’ve given me up. She let relationships fall apart whenever her husbands didn’t want me. She… wasn’t perfect, but she tried. I think that she’s been hurt, too. And she doesn;t have anybody else to tell her to contact a therapist, or focus in hard on loving her, and trying to build with her… I’m it. I’m all that she has. My stepdad doesn’t even look at her anymore. I know how it feels to have people around and still feel lonely. I don’t want that for my mom, no matter if she’s not nice to me. No matter if she might deserve that. Because, what if she doesn’t? What if there’s something that we just don’t know and she doesn’t know how to tell us? I just… don’t want to hurt anybody like that. Not even her.”

“But, you would, if you thought that was what I wanted?”

“I would do what was best for you, if I had no other options, yes.” 

She sighed and shook her head, “I’d never ask you to sacrifice your morals. I just hate that those are what brings you pain.” She cupped his face and they kissed. As though kissing could release every bit of stress and turmoil carried into the room and nothing else could. It was a moment before Jasper noticed that they weren’t alone. He broke the kiss and turned to stare at his mother, who was staring at the ground. Charlotte’s eyes followed, then she rolled them and got up to leave. Pansy caught her wrist, gently, then quickly let go.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet voice. That was new. She let go of Charlotte and looked up at Jasper. Charlotte stuck around. “I should have been better to you, for you. It’s entirely possible that I resented you, because of Jack… That’s not fair and nobody ever wants to admit it. We want to think that we did our best and that we were good parents. We make a ton of excuses. Mine being, at least I was around, at least I wasn’t a drunk who almost killed him in car, at least I didn’t hang out with potheads and shady musicians and witches!” Jasper was speechless. She came into the room and sat next to him. “I hated your father. I still hate him. Whenever I agreed to let him see you, I hated it, but it seemed like what you wanted, so I tried. He was cordial. He seemed like he was changed, like he was trying… then he showed up one day with this WOMAN who he’d met through Roscoe Bolton, of all people!”

“You mean Adanna? The nicest woman in the world, who he met through Uncle Rox, the coolest dude in the world?” Jasper corrected her.

“I mean Adanna, who I recognized as a woman who built up a witch shop on her marijuana revenue, who he met through one of the only people that I’ve ever hated as much as Jack!”

“Wait. You hate MY uncle? Everybody loves my uncle, and it doesn’t make sense to me because he’s always been kind of a wreck until a few years ago, but what did you have against my uncle?”

“He wasn’t good company!” Pansy practically squealed. “He didn’t make Jack do anything, so it’s not like I blame him for Jack’s discrepancies, but first of all, he was a shady musician, always convincing Jack to come with him on tours for weeks, despite knowing that he had a pregnant wife at home who needed him…”

“You also needed money and Dad’s job wasn’t making enough. Those tours were!” Jasper fussed, defensively. She’d hit a nerve bringing Uncle Rox into this, especially after whatever she’d done to upset Charlotte.

“I would have preferred to struggle a little bit than to be lonely and depressed while I was pregnant. And Roscoe kept introducing him to women, who like I said, it’s not his fault, but why even do so? Just remind him to call me. Why is it so hard to just say, ‘I know we’re touring, but don’t forget why you’re doing this?’ You know why? Because he understood, like Jack did that the only reason he married me was because of you and when I saw that he was still communicating with that man and still meeting women through him, I figured he was probably still going on tours, smoking pot, drinking, losing himself in the arms of some pretty thing and trying to clean up for his visits and I-” She clenched her fists. “I wasn’t going to be that stupid anymore. I didn’t expect to take my anger out on you. I didn’t expect to treat you like you were Jack and I didn’t expect to treat your friend like she was Roscoe, but whenever I saw the two of you together, all I could think about were the nights that all I got was a drunken phone call asking about my son, who I was at home with, by myself, stressed, depressed, infuriated and barely holding it together, while he partied and drank and couldn’t hold down a decent job to save his miserable life. You came home one day, and said that you met this cool dude, your friend’s uncle. You were so excited to meet him and you thought he was so cool and looked up to him and I knew who he was and I told you to stay away from him. You ignored me. You never ignored me, but you did… Like your father.”

“Okay,” Charlotte interrupted, sick of this, “I get that. I would be extremely pissed off at people who affected my life in that way too, but Jasper didn’t do that to you.”

“I realize that. I’m not making any excuses. I’m just… trying to… open up to my son…”

Charlotte sighed and said, “Okay. Jasper, I’m gonna be out here, if you need me.” She didn’t want to hear any more of this, but Jasper looked worried about her leaving. “Unless you want me to stay?”

“Please?” He asked, in a low voice. She returned to his side and wrapped her hands around his, looking at his crying mom with zero sympathy. As far as she was concerned, the woman was turning things around and what she just needed to say were a few things: I was wrong. I’m sorry. You deserve better. I will do better. Charlotte didn’t give a damn about any other words. But, she looked at Jasper’s empathetic face. He did. He gave a damn about this woman. He always would. THIS was one of those sacrifices that people spoke about. Because, there was no way that she could be with him and not have to put up with this chick, at least sometimes. She freed one of her hands to stroke his hair and it broke his trance a little bit. He glanced at her and smiled, his eyes lit up and for a moment, he forgot that he was listening to this sob story from the person who had hurt him for most of his life. 

“I’m so sorry. I was wrong and I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try. That’s why I’ve been trying to be involved and why I’m here. I just want to do better in the future…” Pansy eventually uttered. Charlotte could almost visibly see a huge weight lifted off of Jasper’s chest and shoulders and mind… Like… She could visually spot the worry lines evaporate and see the insecurity melt away. It was extremely weird, but beautiful. And, she still didn’t have a fuck to give about that lady, but the way that Jasper hugged her, the comfort that he took in that declaration, whether or not Charlotte trusted it, it made her heart swell. He deserved those things. And she’d better be true about trying to give them to him.

[ohnojustimagine]

Where We’re Meant to Be

Dean Ambrose/Reader/Seth Rollins; fluffy smut, 3615 words

This is in the same general universe as Believe In Me (though I don’t think you really need to read that first, just start knowing the three of them are in are poly relationship and you’ll be fine) and is set at the beginning of Dean’s time off.

***

You've always been aware how fortunate it is that Dean's never before been badly hurt, but you've also always known that he likely wouldn't be lucky forever. He's careful, more careful than most wrestlers, but it's the nature of the business that no one escapes a few injuries along the way.

Even so, it takes every ounce of persuasion and cajoling you and Seth can muster to make him even consider actually taking time off and having the surgery he needs. In the end, it's only management stepping in and threatening to forcibly suspend him that finally gets him to agree to the necessary treatment.

The surgeon is in Alabama, and Seth drives you both to the airport. His schedule is as packed as ever, and he'll be heading off tonight for another round of shows, so he can't go with you. "Good luck, man," he says, clasping Dean's raised hand, slapping him on the back.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," Dean says.

Seth takes you in his arms, holding you close for what you know won't ever feel like long enough, turning his head to briefly kiss the side of your face.

"Take care of yourself," he tells you softly, squeezing you tight one last time before letting you go.

"What about me?" Dean says, jokingly belligerent. "Shouldn't she be taking care of me?"

Seth laughs. "You can take care of yourself, asshole," he says, but there's only affection in his voice. He raises his hand in farewell, and then is gone.

***

The surgery goes well, but you know this is just the beginning, with months and months of rehab and healing ahead. Dean's only in the hospital overnight, and while they offer to put him up in a nearby hotel for the rest of the week, he insists on being referred to a more local doctor for his post-surgery checks and then flying home.

You try to talk him out of it, wanting him to stay, but you can't change his mind, and his surgeon okays things, so you do your best not to worry. And you have to admit that it does feel good to be back in your own house, so the first day or two isn't so bad, with Dean still doped up on painkillers and spending most of his time sleeping, but then he starts to feel a little better, and things get worse.

Way worse, because Dean doesn't do bored. He always enjoys his downtime, but it's never too long before he's itching to get back on the road, back in the ring, so this enforced nothingness? You know it's his own personal version of hell, and living with him means it's rapidly becoming pretty hellish for you too.

He won't leave you alone, not even for a second, won't rest like he's supposed to, won't take his pills unless you nag him to, is eating a remarkable amount of junk food, and keeps threatening to start his physical therapy program early, insisting he's feeling fine when you know perfectly well he's not.

What he actually is is frustrated and cranky and in pain, and he's trying, you can see that, doing his best to make light of his moodiness, because that's how he deals with things, but that doesn't actually mean it's any easier to put up with.

But you grit your teeth and count to ten, a lot, and you don't lose your cool. Or not yet, at least.

***

You freelance so you're able to travel with Dean and Seth as much as you can, but what with the surgery and the general stress of the last few weeks, you're behind on work, so today you're in your office at home, attempting to catch up. But, of course, it's not long before Dean wanders in. He's shirtless, wearing only sweat pants, his arm bound up tight in a sling, held close to his chest.

"Whatcha doing?" he asks.

"Working," you say, not looking up from your laptop, because you really, really need to get this done.

"Sounds fun," he says, and from anyone else that would be sarcasm, but Dean's not like that. "I'm gonna order some pizza for lunch, you want some?"

You stop typing and turn your chair around to look at him. "We had pizza for dinner last night," you remind him. "You had cold pizza for breakfast this morning."

"Cold pizza is the best." He grins, and you know there's no use arguing with him, because the man is literally incapable of taking proper care of himself.

"Come on," you say, standing up, and it seems your deadline will have to wait. "I'll make you something."

"You don't have to," he says.

"No, I don't," you tell him. "But you can't live on pizza."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can."

"Well," you concede, "maybe you can, but let's not find out." You head downstairs to the kitchen, Dean following along behind you. "How about a sandwich?" you ask, glancing back at him. "We've got some of that roast beef you like."

"Sounds good," he agrees, and slaps you on the ass with his good hand. "My woman's gonna make me a sandwich," he says happily, and you turn, walking backwards for a few steps and giving him a look.

"Don't push it," you warn him, but he just smirks back at you, and you roll your eyes. "Sit down," you say, gesturing at the couch in front of the TV, because he's still meant to be taking it easy. "I'll only be a minute."

"I can help," he says, hopefully, but Dean's generally more hindrance than help in the kitchen.

"Sit," you reply, firmly, and he obeys, plopping himself down on the couch.

The door of the kitchen swings shut behind you and you inhale a deep breath, because right now, the thought of however many months it's going to be of this makes you wonder if either of you are going to make it to the end. You open the fridge, taking out everything you'll need for a sandwich, then, on impulse, pick up your phone, typing in HELP before pressing 'send.'

It rings almost immediately, and relief rushes through you as you answer.

"You all right?" Seth says, and the warmly familiar concern in his voice makes you feel instantly calmer.

"Yeah," you say. "Sorry."

"Not a problem," he says. "How are things going?"

"About as well as you'd expect," you reply, and he laughs.

"That bad, huh?"

You hear the kitchen door open behind you. "Who you talking to?" says Dean.

"Seth," you say, over your shoulder.

"Yeah?" Dean replies. "Hey, Seth, hey bro," he says, exaggeratedly friendly, then shouts, "HOW THOSE TAG TEAM TITLES TREATING YOU, YOU ASSHOLE?"

You hear Seth wince. "He pissed about that?"

"Well, you know." You sigh. "A little. He's mostly joking," you say, glaring at Dean, who's now beside you, sneaking a slice of roast beef.

"No I'm not," he says, and snatches the phone out of your hand. You try to grab it, but he holds it above your head, out of your reach and yells, "I'M NOT JOKING," into it before passing it back to you.

"Wow," says Seth. "Okay."

"Please tell me you're going to be here tonight," you say.

"Or," Dean says, almost conversationally, "he could go see Jordan instead. Maybe they could, like, hang out and suck each other's dicks now they're best friends and champions and all."

"Stop it," you hiss at Dean, and he rolls his eyes at you, but he's grinning. He wanders back out into the living room, and you sigh into the phone.

"Yeah," you hear Seth say, warily, the word drawn out. "Are you sure he wants to see me?"

"He's fine," you assure him. "You know what he's like when he gets bored."

"I do," he says, adding, with some feeling, "Man, I do."

"So you'll make it?" Seth still officially has his own place, but he spends pretty much all his downtime here with you and Dean, and though you've barely had a second to think about it, you miss him. You miss him more that you've been allowing yourself to admit, and the ache of it is like an empty space inside of you, a part of your heart that's been taken away.

"I'll be there," he says, firmly, and you have to believe that everything's going to be okay.

It only takes you a few minutes to finish making Dean's sandwich, and you take it out to the living room where he's sprawled on the couch, television blaring in front of him.

"Thanks." He flashes you a smile, grabbing the plate and digging in.

You watch him eating, vaguely amused by his careless gusto, but then you get to thinking. "You know," you say, "you don't need to be that much of a dick to him."

Dean shrugs, one-shouldered. "He can take it." He doesn't speak any further for what feels like a long while, finishing eating and dumping the plate on the coffee table before he turns to you, and says, more quietly, "Do you think he feels guilty?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Good."

"Come on," you say, "it's not his fault."

"I know," says Dean. He looks at you, and it's that Dean you don't see so often, the vulnerable one, all the swagger and bravado gone, just for a moment. "It's hard, seeing them all move on and I'm..." He gestures at his injured arm. "I'm stuck here like this."

You take his left hand in both your own, holding it tightly and looking him square in the eye.  "Yeah," you tell him, "they're going to move on for a while, but the second you're ready you'll be straight back into your rightful place."

"Nah," he says, as if he's joking, but you know better, hearing the insecurity in his voice as he goes on, saying, "that's what happens, people forget."

"You're kidding, right?" you scoff. "Can you even imagine the reaction you're going to get when you come back?" You shake your head, picturing it. "It's going to be fucking amazing."

"You think?" he asks.

"I know," you say, and he smiles, but you can see the tiredness in his eyes. You kiss his hand, briefly, then stand up, grabbing the plate. "Okay?"

He nods, seemingly happier for now, and stretches out, lying down and swinging his legs up onto to couch. "Maybe time for a nap," he says. "Gotta rest up if Seth's coming home tonight."

"Why?" you ask, playful. "You got some plans?"

"Oh, baby." He raises his eyebrows at you. "I've always got plans."

You laugh, watching him for a second as he closes his eyes, his chest rising as he takes a deep breath, and then you walk away, leaving him to rest.

***

It's late by the time Seth arrives, letting himself in, and as soon as the front door opens, you and Dean are both on your feet, rushing out ready to greet him, both a little too eager, but it feels like forever since it's been just the three of you.

"Hey," Seth says to Dean. "How you feeling?"

"You know, been better," Dean replies and Seth nods ruefully, as if he understands exactly what he means, and you suppose he does, what with his own past injuries, but then he focuses his attention on you.

"Hey you," he says, warmly, pulling you into a hug, and you hold him tightly for a minute, face pressed to his chest, breathing in the smell of him, relaxing into the feel of his arms around you.

"Mind if I head straight up for a shower?" he asks, when he finally releases you.

"Of course," you tell him. "You okay with your bags?"

"I'm fine," he says.

"I'd help," Dean says, all mock-regret, "but you know..." He waves helplessly at his arm, and Seth just laughs.

"Sure," he says, and Dean smiles at him, eyes shining, and you realize you're not the only one who's been missing Seth.

You both watch him walk upstairs, silent, but then you turn to look at Dean, and he looks back at you, and there's something in his face you haven't seen there for a while; definitely not since his surgery and maybe not even since this whole shoulder thing became serious. It's that spark you recognize, that relish for life that makes Dean Dean, and suddenly you know, deep in your bones, that everything is going to be okay, however long it takes.

"We should go up too," Dean says, after a minute, "wait for him."

"Yeah," you say, knowing exactly what he means. "Let's do that."

***

Seth's using the shower in the bathroom off your bedroom, and as you enter you hear the sound of the water running, soft in the background. Dean sits down on the end of the bed, looking at you expectantly, and you know what he wants, but you hesitate.

"You sure you're up for this?" you ask him, needing to be certain. "You'll say if it's too much?"

"Yeah, yeah," he replies, sounding vaguely annoyed, and you can't blame him for that. "I'll behave myself."

And for once, you believe him, so you relent, pouting as you say, "Aw, but you're so much more fun when you misbehave."

He grins at you. "You know," he says, "I really think you need to be naked now."

"You do?" You toy with the hem of your shirt, teasing him, and you see his eyes darken slightly.

"Right now," he tells you, the demand in his voice sending a thrill through you, and you start to undress. And maybe you should make a performance of it, strip for him, but somehow it feels more appropriate, more intimate, to simply take off your clothes, letting him see you, your skin warming under the heat of his gaze until you stand before him, exposed.

He doesn't say anything, only holding out his hand, pulling you in towards him, and you sit down next to him, shifting to face him. You've barely done anything since his surgery; just a few boringly efficient handjobs followed by him watching you masturbate, and it's weird, you think, because you've been touching him, maybe even more than normal, but so much of it has been practical, almost impersonal; helping him wash and dress himself, checking and changing the coverings on his wound.

But you haven't touched him, not like this, your hands sliding slow over his body, exploring like it's the first time. His arm is around your waist, and he kisses you, softly, so unguarded and tender you have to moan.

"You starting without me?" you hear Seth say, and you smile at the sound of his voice, turning to look at him. His hair is wet, slicked back, and he's wearing only a white towel that sits dangerously low on his hips, his skin still glistening with the moisture of the shower. And the sudden rush of want you feel is almost dizzying in its intensity, like something that's been building within you that you haven't been able to acknowledge until this moment.

There's always that hint of doubt and uncertainly when Seth's not with you, a throwback to those days when he betrayed you both and was gone for so long, and even though you've forgiven him a million times over and trust him implicitly, there's still, even now, a small, seductive voice in the darkest places of your mind that will sometimes whisper what if? like an echo.

But now, he's here and you can forget all that.

"Just getting her nice and warmed up for you," Dean says.

Seth smiles back at you. "Yeah, she never needs much warming up."

"True," Dean agrees with a dirty laugh, and you probably should be at least a little offended by that, but yeah, it is true.

"What do you want to do to him?" Dean asks, watching you as you watch Seth, hand stroking up and down your thigh. "You want to suck him? Get on your knees for him?"

You nod, not taking your eyes off Seth, and Dean turns to him, saying, "That what you want? Our girl's mouth on your cock?"

You take a breath, because every single fucking time that gets you, that our. Not mine, not his, but ours, because you belong to both of them, shared between them with no possessiveness or jealousy, something only open and boundless.

"Yeah," Seth says, "I could go for that."

And you don't need any encouragement, sliding off the bed and onto your knees, moving towards him. You rest your hands on Seth's narrow hips, feeling the planes of muscle that slope diagonally across from his abs, and you lean in, pressing kisses along the trail of hair that leads downwards, following it until you reach the edge of the towel. You gaze up at him as you pull the towel away, licking your lips at the sight of his cock, standing out erect from his body, hard and ready for you.

You lean to lick it, kiss it, hand around him as you open your mouth, taking in just the head, sucking on it, gently as first, but then with increasing pressure, just the way you know Seth likes it, using your tongue.

"Oh yeah," you hear Dean say, and Seth's hands are either side of your face, gently cradling your jaw, thumbs stroking across your cheekbones. You look up, and he's staring at you, his eyes almost black with desire as you close your lips around him, going down until he hits the back of your throat and you swallow, taking him in as deep as you can.

"Fuck," he says, as you pull back, almost all the way, pausing to again lavish attention on the head of his cock before you slide back down, and you don't stop, repeating the same motions over and over. Seth groans, and you can tell he's getting close, that he wants you to go faster, but you linger over it, wanting this to last, knowing that when it's time, he won't hesitate to take what he needs.

And finally it seems he's had enough, because he pushes you away, dragging you roughly to your feet and practically throwing you down onto the bed, shoving your legs apart, and he's on top of you before you can even take a breath, cock thrusting into you, and you're powerless to do anything but go with him, allowing yourself to be carried away by it. You hold on as he fucks you, and when he comes it's with such force you think you might lose yourself, just for a minute, but then Dean's lying beside you, tugging on your arm, saying, "Come on," impatiently as Seth rolls off you.

You sit up, your head spinning, managing to get on top of Dean, straddling him as, one-handed, he guides you down onto his cock, letting it fill you as you start to ride him, hips in an urgent, familiar rhythm that you know will get you both there.

Dean's muttering something under his breath, nearing the edge, and you're about to come, you can feel it. You reach out, blindly desperate to connect with both of them in this moment, and Seth understands, because he's immediately right there beside you, holding your hand, kissing your shoulder. "I'm here," he soothes, "I'm with you, baby," and it's everything. You hear Dean moan out his own orgasm just as you come, heat flaring inside you, and the release of it is so great that for a brief second you think you might cry, but it passes, easing out into a sweet, easy contentment.

You climb off Dean, leaning down to kiss him, and you can tell he's about three seconds away from falling asleep, kissing you back, unhurriedly lazy, his eyes already falling closed. "So good," he murmurs happily and you lie down beside him, careful of his arm. Seth settles himself next to you so you're between the two of them, exactly where you like to be, where you belong, and Dean's already dozing off as Seth looks at you, smiling.

His hair is almost dry, curling out into its usual unruly frizz, and he runs his hand through it, pushing it back off his face with a small grunt of annoyance. There's a spare hair tie around your wrist, and you slip it off, offering it to him.

"Thanks," he says, taking it twisting his hair back into a carelessly messy bun, and he looks so good you have to kiss him again, your tongue hot in his mouth, still trying to catch your breath as he pulls back.

He stares past you at Dean, forehead wrinkling slightly in concern as he asks, "Is he gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," you say, and you mean it. "Yeah, he'll be fine, it's just going to take a while."

Seth looks at you. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I am now."

"You know I'm here for you, right?" he says. "Both of you, yeah, but I mean..." He breathes in. "I get what a handful he can be sometimes, so any time you need help, I'm here."

"I know," you say, curling yourself into him, his arms enfolding you in a gentle embrace. Dean shifts slightly, unconsciously pressing closer, and you feel the warmth of both of their bodies against you, safe and steady.

"We're not going anywhere," Seth whispers, and it's a promise, fixed as a truth, built and then rebuilt, something so strong it can't be ever be broken.

[ghostmartyr]

Pokémon Black 2 Randomized Nuzlocke Run [Part 1]

White was so much fun, the sequel was obviously inevitable. Only I don’t own White 2, so Black 2 shall be our contestant. All encounters and starters will be random, static pokemon are what they are originally. Any pokemon not randomized is ineligible for use.

Nuzlocke rules, again copied from Bulbapedia:

    Any Pokémon that faints is considered dead, and must be released or put in the Pokémon Storage System permanently.

   The player may only catch the first Pokémon encountered in each area, and none else.

My added rules of choice:

Each pokemon must be nicknamed.

If the first pokemon in an area is a species I’ve already caught, the first one that isn’t will become the catch option.

The catch rules start applying once I have the option of catching things.

No looking anything up on guides.

Team wipe means continuing on using whatever I have in the PC.

Let’s have some fun.

Second verse, same as the first.

I haven’t adjusted the text speed yet and it is driving me insane.

I remember having so much love for this gen, but the designs of these poor children still provoke odd looks. Not that I mind walking around with a palm tree on my head, I just question why anyone thought that I would want that.

Hugh!

Wait, do I get to pick his name?

I do!

Uhhh.

Wow, I forgot that this was the hardest part about Nuzlockes. I can’t just go with Hugh if this is a true random. Hm. Okay then, in honor of friendship, this guy’s name can be Russell.

The first thing our mom does in this game is give me cause to ship her with Professor Juniper. Our mom knows her first name. It’s Aurea. Why would she know that if they were not secretly involved in some way???

Is this the first game that has an outside character get first crack at moving the screen around after we’ve chosen our name? I kind of like it.

I like it more now that it’s ending and I can switch the text speed to Fast.

Heeeeey it’s us. Palm tree hair and all.

I never find out what the contrary answers lead to, because I can never make myself pick them. It makes my completionist nature very sad. As does the reminder that I do not have the ability to run yet. Someone please give this poor boy some shoes.

Bianca is here to meet us!

She is not our bestie in this version, but she is in our hearts.

This is our bestie this version.

He’s got a little sister.

Just so we know all that black and red in his color scheme is for show.

Look at him walking in time with us like the total bro he is.

Dude is this his room? I want one.

Bianca! Friend!

That awkward moment when you have the same name as one of her best friends who will never be seen this entire game.

Okay okay okay it’s time.

Time to receive our starter.

Our choices are:

Ah that’s rough. Hm.

My preference is always going to be to have something’s first state, that I can level up and evolve myself, but I recently finished my White run, and in it I had Larvitar’s line as well as Aggron’s, so really, there can be only one choice.

Snorlax, I choose you!

And my first act as your new friend is to give you a brand new name that I need to come up with!

Snore, sleep, yawn... sleep words... Dreamor?

Heck that’s a dorky name. He needs it.

Dreamor got, Russell steps in and asks for an in on our journey. He has his own super special mission that I’m not supposed to remember but I do, and talks Bianca into giving him a pokedex as well. Because Bianca’s a sweetheart.

But before we can go any further, it’s time to d-d-d-d-duel!

Everything about Russell’s design screams childhood-friend-gone-villain and I love how little that has anything to do with his arc.

Oshawaott vs. Dreamor! Lesgo!

Snorlax knows Tackle and Defense Curl, which is actually appropriate for a starter. I am going to be dull and Tackle spam.

...

OHKO.

Dreamor appears to be... enthusiastic. in his participation.

G-good job, boy.

Bianca even walks us to the Pokemon Center, because she’s just that wonderful. She also gives us some Poke Balls (again, see wonderful), which means that we’re officially in business to get this run on the road.

...I really hope Dreamor doesn’t faint everything in one hit. This could be a lonely start for the two of us if he’s as strong as he looks.

-gasp-

Our mother greets us outside the Center and gives us Running Shoes.

Thank you mother. I knew you loved us.

Aw, and Russell’s baby sister gives us a Town Map. Thanks, kiddo. I will deliver your brother’s copy with great haste and competence.

(They keep calling Dreamor Tepig.)

Before we go any further, let’s find out what sort of critter Dreamor is.

Rash and capable of taking hits. Well, if you’re going to be rash, you might as well be prepared to handle what it gets you into. The nature gets a sad face out of me for mechanics, but I always love having Thick Fat available, and look at that smile.

Oh my gosh the gate attendant knows our name and gave us a Potion for our journey. I feel so cared for.

Bianca teaches us how to catch stuff, and we, being an experienced trainer, completely ignore the lesson and wait for control to be returned to us.

The first tall grass awaits our first step. Dreamor! Let us go forth and meet our next friend!

!!!!!!

..Oh heck though.

She’s level 2.

I don’t know if she can eat a Tackle from Dreamor.

Also I might end up not using her because I used her line in the last run but hey I didn’t use Politoed (and I also don’t know how to get a Politoed given the settings).

I’ll throw a ball first, then see if she lives through a Tackle.

...Ah, the return of Hypnosis.

...Is all she knows Hypnosis? No, there’s also Water Sport.

Hey, she lives through a Tackle!

...Barely!

Ball thrown, Poliwhirl get!

From now on, your new name shall be... Stella. And we need to run back to a Center pronto. Your new teammate whacked you one good.

Stella is Quirky and alert to sounds. Sounds good to me, but I have zero clue how to evolve you to a Politoed. I think normally you need a King’s Rock and trading, but I selected the box that cleared up trading requirements for evolutions, giving me no clue whatsoever what to do with you, darling.

All the same, welcome. Your line is one of my favorites.

...Also you are not a Zubat.

Zubat was an option for this route.

Stella, your worth just went up.

Even if I end up not using her due to memories of Wagston overriding sense, I don’t think I can keep her at level 2, so we’re going to do some switch training for a tiny bit.

...Sir, what are you doing here I have been playing for five seconds.

He offers training, but since he gives me my controls right back after him and his neat soundtrack walk around inspecting me, I’m going to go ahead with my original plans.

Stella downed a level 2 Zubat all by herself. She’s growing up so fast.

WHY DOES HYPNOSIS HAVE 100 ACCURACY WHEN IT’S USED AGAINST ME. ;-;

Oh, wow, the next Pokemon Center is just. right there, isn’t it.

“Flocessy Town Prophecy Flocks Here”

You have never known a love as true as Pokemon translators and wordplay. Apparently this is where Alder’s house is. Apparently Champions are now allowed houses, and not only if your name is Cynthia. I call hax.

Alder wants Russell to have his Town Map before training, and Russell is on Route 20, which means....

our next friend

Are the leaves grass, or just pretty?

After tromping over them for several seconds, it looks to be that they are merely pretty. Very pretty, though.

Aha, grass located. What awaits us?

Hello there!

It’s a grand ol’ gen one time, it seems. Dreamor can’t hit you, so Stella, up you go. Please do not kill her.

Gastly get!

You shall be... Caspet.

Caspet has a Mild nature to go with her sturdy body. With her we shall find if I actually screwed up the evolution options. I’m still really new to Randomizer, and probably should have looked up what the choices did on Google before starting this run, but the rule after the run has begun is no guides, so here we are.

We enter Flocessy Ranch, which is a new location. Another friend already. Our fortune is pure.

...How do I keep finding every generation one creature that needs trading to evolve. Is this going to be this run’s theme?

Oh, it Teleported.

I forgot they liked to do that.

...Welp. There’s that route dead.

Is there anything in this route that can give me exp?

Even if there is, it’s so Kadabra heavy that I’d just as soon not bother. Having things constantly run away from you is really tiring. We’ll give Russell his map and leave.

Wait what.

We just fought five minutes ago. Russell. Russell. Just because your theme music is rad as heck and demanding action doesn’t mean you have to be running a mile a minute. That’s the scarf gen’s deal.

Dreamor eats Oshawott and all is well.

Then we get a random sidequest to locate a Herdier for the owners of the ranch. To which Russell experiences Emotions at, because Reasons.

Everyone needs a screenshot of Mareep running in a circle.

Hey, something not Kadabra. Hi Cottonee. Bye Cottonee. And that item ball in the corner is a Poke Ball. Oh, and here’s a Basculin. Look at all these things not running away from us.

...I... need an adult?

Dreamor has taken on the role of adult. I’m not sure Mienshao even knows Fighting moves at that level, but fully evolved things this early on are scary regardless.

We find the Herdier being unhappy with a Team Plasma Grunt.

He throws the Frustration TM at us. Hee.

Herdier has such a cute bwoof.

The day is saved, and now Alder’s down for palling around with us.

By palling around, I mean Alder introduces us to two small children he expects us to beat into the ground. As you do.

All passes without incident. Yay.

We walk outside and Mr. Medal gives us a Medal Box, which I don’t clearly remember, but suspect is intending to prey on me and my achievement hunting ways.

Alder is also kind enough to alert us that a Gym Leader has arrived at our home town. I wonder who it might be, but before that, Alder has a random cave place behind his home. New route?

It’s counted as part of Flocessy, it looks like. I haven’t caught anything within the town limits, but there doesn’t appear to be grass. Water, but I can’t do anything about that yet. Sigh. Oh well.

First badge is Normal, I believe.

...Let’s train Dreamor a tad more before we go after that. I believe in you, buddy, but I am also very rightfully paranoid.

Azumarill live in Caspet’s home grass.

When does Caspet learn something that isn’t Lick or a status move. My poor little ghost.

...

Yeah it’s level 3 but it’s still a scary thing to see.

Hey, first legendary of the run!

And Caspet has Mean Look... We could see if she has what it takes to Lick Kadabra down to size. Like tootsie pops. You could be an owl, Caspet.

This place was crowded with Kadabra, and now there’s Ambipom just hanging out. Okay then. Cue Geodude for some reason. Oh. And Linoone.

-tears for Bandit-

Hey wait hold up. Psychic is super effective against Ghost in this version? That’s... good to know. It also doesn’t sound right, but I don’t think the game cares about that. That’s annoying.

No Caspet, you can’t learn Curse. I’m going to come close enough to killing you as it is. Don’t enable the process.

Let’s go for it, shall we?

Cheren! Friend!

I actually really like the arrangement of his Gym. It isn’t the aesthetic wonderland that other Gyms of this gen are, but that’s kind of what makes it awesome? Cheren runs a school that doubles as a Gym. You battle in chalk-marked arenas out back.

I guess I misspoke; the aesthetic is still rich with this one. School day feels of being young are so very alive here, and I really like it.

Other things deserving of being liked are Cheren being an educator. Our buddy’s found his way, and we get to be his first challenger!

That’s another thing to love, honestly. We spent a whole game with this guy around, and now we’re his debut Gym Leader match. It’s so touching.

Cheren, stop blushing, you’ll be fine.

I mean. Dreamor’s going to mop the floor with you.

But that’s your job now. Losing to trainers of a certain level.

I believe in you, man.

I just believe in Dreamor more.

Awesomeness achieved, and that will do it for this part!

(Except for squeeing because Bianca showed up and gave us the Return TM, as well as the C-Gear I’ll never use, and Cheren and Bianca get to be in the same shot, and it’s the magic of friendship all over again. You did good for yourselves, guys. I’m sorry you don’t remember me as your bestie anymore.)

Until next time for the next badge.

[minsyal]

Headcanons for forgetting your loves and them being like “wtf bro” and you’re like “I’m just trying to do the stuff people keep telling me to do” 

Characters Included: Revali, Daruk, Mipha, Urbosa

Just a note: I personally don’t think that the Champions were actually with you, but just imagine they were. I also think that you can’t hear anything they say or see them other than an alert to when you can use their power/ them appearing when the power is used. 

Revali

Is probably the most upset that you don’t remember him

Also the most upset that you are getting into the most dangerous situations

“Well now, I’ve seen that face before.” A voice calls smoothly from the air, “You look confused.” 

“Are you Revali?” 

*anime gasp* 

“You don’t recognize this voice? I know you haven’t heard it for 100 years but surely you wouldn’t forget your lover?” 

101% instant heartbreak

“Be careful.” He warns every time you take a step through the Divine Beast. 

“Well I’ll be plucked,” (I don’t recall him saying this but he does omf), “You had me worried sick.”

Oooo spooky ghost appears

“At least now I know where you’ve been for the past 100 years.” 

He observes your current state, just how he remembered, maybe a few more scratches

“You don’t remember me, do you?” 

“I don’t, I’m sorry.” 

“If I had more time, I’d be happy to spend it telling you everything. Fate calls. I suppose our chat will have to wait.”

There are times when he worries and casually sets off Revali’s Gale, causing you to get caught in the updraft and soar to safety 

“You need to quit getting yourself into these situations.” He says into the open air, knowing you couldn’t hear him.

TBH I feel like I can’t really write a romantic affiliation with Daruk, purely because I was always like “He’s such a cool dude” and I see him as a cuddly bff. Sorry! But you can totally interpret this hc however you please :)

Daruk 

“I always knew you’d come back. Y’know, I never stopped believing in you!” 

“Is this Daruk?” 

“Of course it’s Daruk! Who else would be?” A billowing laugh echoes through the Divine Beast, “Lost some of your marbles in the past 100 years, eh?” 

You let out a huff, “I guess you could say I lost all of them.” 

“You can’t remember anything, can you?” 

My best friend has been sleeping for 100 years, has forgotten me and all of my other friends, wtffffffffffff

He’s so optimistic and tries to keep his cool, he really wants you to remember 

Occasionally while venturing through the Divine Beast, you’ll hear a “watch out” or “If you need any help, I’m right here” 

He is probably the most supportive of all the Champions 

“You did it, I knew you could.” A glowing figure appeared beside you, the Champion Daruk, a big ass smile on his face and his arms spread as if to crush you in a hug

Low key tugs at his heart strings that he can’t hug you

While traveling he is trailing beside you and just chatting away like you can hear him

It kind of annoys the others 

It really annoys Revali

At night he keeps watch if you aren’t staying at a stable or inn

He is roaming as far as he can, making sure that no monsters are near

He protect

Mipha

She is so happy to see you like omg

“I must say... that I am so happy to see that this day has finally arrived.” 

“Mipha?” 

 “I’ve wondered where you ran off to for so long.” She notices your facial expression and raised eyebrows, “Are you alright?” 

“I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally put a voice to it all.” 

“Do you not... Have you forgotten me?” 

She is spooked 5000 while you’re maneuvering through the Divine Beast

“Please, watch your step.” 

You start just talking into the open air, hoping shes listening 

“Sidon told me that you made this armor, for me actually.” 

“I did.” 

“So that means that we were something more than friends?” You waited a moment, but got no response. “Mipha, I’m sorry I can’t rem-”

It’s okay. All that I can ask is that you are safe. I’m glad you’re safe.” 

It kind of feels like you’re being followed the entire way through the beast. As if she was trailing you. 

“Thank you. For I am now allowed by this freedom to be with you once again.” 

Instant heart break 

(I actually got the feels during Mipha’s cut scene) 

“You’re beautiful.” You said, a crooked smile spreading across your face. You can’t believe that you had forgotten her. How could you? Her eyes widen for a moment, a streak of embarrassment crossing her features.

“and you as well.” 

While traveling she stays close, ready to heal you if you get even the smallest cut

She yearns for the days when you were whole, the world was calm, and the two of you were together

But she’s glad she can be by your side, even if just for a moment

Urbosa

She is the most understanding of your condition

Yes, she’s upset about it, but figures it’s easier to not mention anything

Yet, she holds onto the hopes that you’ll remember someday 

“Well, well, well... You sure do know how to keep a woman waiting.” 

“If I’m correct, you’re Urbosa, the Gerudo Champion.” 

*Shes like duh, why are you asking? 

“I am, and you’re [Name], correct?” You nodded, “It’s nice to finally see you again. I’ve missed you.” 

While you’re going through the Beast, she is like a coach. She tells you how to move its functions, the best way to get to certain spots and where the terminals were

“Great job, I’m here if you need anything.” 

“Urbosa?” You ask into the abyss that is Naboris.

“Hmm? What is it?” 

“I’ve heard stories.” 

“Oh? What kind of stories?” 

“We’re we...together?” 

“It depends, do you think we were together?” 

You push your lips together, trying your best to recall the few memories you regained. “Yes. I know we were. We had to be! Right?” 

When she appears, you’re like holy shit 

 wowowowowowow

 “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Request: Hello again! I loved what you did with the kid scenarios, Revali's was my favorite personally. But I was curious about what are some head canons you can create if s/o was in the place of Link and had all the champions' spirits following them around. The thing is, s/o had a romantic relationship with a champion (Revali, Daruk, Mipha, and Urbosa) but doesn't remember a thing. So how do the champions react finding there s/o saving them but not remembering their romance, and what do they do about it

[threeambiguouswords-blog]

Shadow Of The Colossus? More like Great Experience Of The Colossus Amirite?

What can I say about this game that hasn’t already been said? I’d bet not much if anything at all to be honest, but on the near to impossible chance that this is the first you’re hearing about this game and I have the pleasure informing you about it (or you’re just here for the mad bants) then strap in.

Kitted out in all the gear.

Quick semi-disclaimer, purely for the fact it's the version i've played most recently and it gives me more delicious cinema like screenies I'll be on the most part talking about the "hot off the press" remaster for ya boi the PS4 rather than the PS2 or the PS3 versions which I definitely own and have definitely 100% completed (Insecurities bleeding through). So then lets get kicking.

General Overview

Gen. Overview, we meet again for the first time. So then, you’ve just bought shadow of the colossus, you’ve remembered the past or heard the hype and decided to indulge and buy yourself a copy for the PS2,3 or 4. After the JapanStudios and Bluepoint logos break the emptiness of your screens you’re met with a stunning scene of a full moon caught amongst shadowed peaks and as it begins to dawn on you what caliber of game this will be and the choir kicks in and after following an eagle soar through this landscape the camera catches and follows out protagonist and his companion Wander and Agro.

So by now the cutscene has ended, 5 or 50 minutes of you sat stunned have past and you realise what you’re in for. You select new game on normal difficulty (because obviously you’re a good gamer but you’re not going to choose hard pfft this game could be crazy) and the game begins properly, for real. Even without knowing anything about this game, reading colossalpedia or reading any item descriptions at all it’s pretty easy to get the jist of what this games about. You’re bae has died and a big gender ambiguous hole in the roof tells you to kill 16 colossi and they’ll return the favour once you’re done, off you pop.

Controls

If you read, watch, listen to other reviews for this game you’ll find that over and over again that this game has terrible controls and that more often than not it’s the games one fault. I however, happen to disagree (oooooh EdGy alternative view), admittedly the original PS2 camera was a tad whacked up but it was a small price to pay for the sheer magnitude of such a game on that console, and even then they made up for it by giving you some wicked collectible postcards in the game box so it’s all cool. Even so, this problem was fixed with later remasters with more fluid camera controls and better graphics to turn “bad camera angles” into “cinegraphic shots”

Photographic proof I’m a hipster collector and can say I know what i’m talking about, even if I don’t.

I’m going to avoid talking about the colossi at the moment as much as I can since i’m going to discuss them later and make this even longer than it’s already going to be so for the remainder of this section i’ll say some stuff about mechanics, scenery and maybe throw some of the bonus stuff in. I don’t know i’ll decide when i get to it.

Gameplay

Once you’ve finished meeting Dormin (The holy hole) and you’ve hopped on Agro you hold up your sacred sword which helps you find where your next victim and you follow it as closely as you can tackling puzzling environments and the most agoraphobic world you’ll ever encounter between your location and your destination. (If only I had that sword I might be able to find where this reviews actually heading). Once you reach your destination and before the cutscene your next epic clash it’s easy to see that each area is specifically designed for how you’re meant to tackle this foe, whether its an open area made to emphasise your battle partner or an enclosed field with brittle spires to take advantage of, every part has been meticulously crafted to make the encounter easier without taking away the incredible feeling of defeating these giants on your own.

Big mommas house.

I’m running out of words for epic and colossus so i’m going to smoothly transition over to mechanics now. Each fight at its core is the same, you have to find a way onto the colossus, hold on, find the weak spot and stab it till it dies, using two main mechanics of Holding/Climbing and Stabbing. Seeing how theres 16 Colossi in this game (A mere glimpse of the planned 48) it would make sense to think that this would get repetative. However, each colossi is so different from the last with only a few showing similarities (ahem the minotaur bros) and this partnered with utilizing the environment, the horse, or the bow in different ways for each and sometimes not at all makes each battle a brand new experience in of itself. Which is great considering you have to play this game at least 4 times to be able to say you’ve completed it, which in a way is like fighting the original 48 planned colossi.

After you’ve completed your first run, experienced the twist ending and had your adaption back into our reality you get to play through it all over again but this time in the aptly named “Hard mode” which is essentially the same except some of the colossi have more weak points, you do less damage but take more and the colossi try to shake you off more and oooooh do some of them try to shake you off. There is no real reward for completing Hard mode except being able to say you’ve done so and no one likes that type of guy (I’ve completed hard mode). With Hard mode out the way you’ve experienced the twist a second time and while the magic of the game never leaves the initial oomph does fade and it’s at this point the time trials come in. From here on it becomes less of an experience and more of a game.

To begin time attack you have to pray at the shrine of the colossus you wish to challenge (which probably has a meaning but this isn’t game theory with mousemat so i’m not going to figure it out). Depending on the difficulty the time you have to defeat it changes but aside from that it’s the same as the previous fights but without the travelling and time pressure is thrust upon you. The best part about the Time attack mode is that for every two colossi you defeat you get a dandy new thing to play with ranging from a harpoon to the worst parachute ever, to save this being any longer than it needs to be i’m going to refrain from listing them all but trust me, they’re alright.

The Colossi

Now ladies and gentlemen the moment i’ve been waiting for, I get to spend an hour writing about each colossus individually hopefully saving whatever respectability there is in this sub-par review. So in no particular order, aside from the order they come in in the game, the Colossi: #1 Valus [Minotaur A]

I’m horny and he’s scared.

I’m going to keep these short so don’t worry, not long left. Valus the shortest of the 4 bipedal colossi and the first of the minotaur bros, valus is an excellent tutorial, not the smallest to take away from the sense of scale but not the biggest allowing for more oompah later on in the game he is an excellent introduction to the game. The platforms on his back have often been criticized but if they weren’t there then where would his pet birds rest. Good/10

#2 Quadratus [The Mammoth]

Only half as horny as I.

Coming in at number two on a list in chronological order is Quadratus, still seen as a tutorial colossus he is the first colossus where Agro and your bow can be incorporated easily. To new players without a walkthrough the only real challenge is getting onto him as his leg hairs aren’t easily accessible but once thats out the way you can prepare for another epic feeling riding this beast for its final moments. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)/10

#3 Gaius [The Knight]

Duck me.

Strolling by at the tallest of the bipedal colossi its general consensus that Gaius is where the game begins, his battle includes a puzzle, he is a challenge in himself to scale and he has more than one vital spot. His arena gives impressions of being custom built for a champion like him as it’s a flat platform raised above a lake, with little background scenery sans the temple on the horizon accentuating how lanky this challenge is.It’s no mystery why gaius is plastered all over the promotions for this game. 9/10

#4 Phaedra [Kirin]

A stallion, Baby! I can whinny! I can Count!

Phaedra? More like puzzle because holy moly this one took a while to figure out, another where jumping aboard isn’t just an option you have to use the environment and then hop on its banging dreads and once you’re on its head you better hold on because larger Agro bangs his head like he’s bopping along to the games own soundtrack. This is the last colossus at the moment with its weak point on it’s head and things really change up in the next battle. I’m Trotting/10

#5 Avion [-]

I died getting this shot.

The story hasn’t started developing yet and you’re beginning to feel a slight lull at this point, you get the jist, there’s big things you got to kill. So far they’ve all been roughly the same size, had the same pattern and been one of two designs. Enter Avion and you had best jump when he enters or you’ve got no chance at catching this speedy boi, this battle brings back the original feeling of grandeur and sprinkles new flavours of epic over the top. The feeling of flying is portrayed so well here with the wind rush graphics and the resistance you can feel the resistance in the controls. Also as you can see this one’s got a helmet so you’ve got to find those weak points elsewhere. 9/10

#6 Barba [Minotaur B]

Prick

The second of the minotaur bros and by far the worst, I could have done without this guy. After solving the easiest “puzzle” ever you just think back to your training with Valus but instead of go up his back... go up his front! On his big dumb beard. Remember how I said phaedra bangs his head? That’s a spirit level compared to how much this guy shakes and everytime he shakes you have to charge up your blade all over again. If it wasn’t for a slight exploit where you can cancel his shaking animation if you time the stabs right I could have broken my first controller over this spice. -0/10

#7 Hydrus [The Eel]

I wouldn’t swim through that warm bit if I were you.

Another innovative and creative battle? Surely not. Well yes, yes indeed, a slippy boi this time and one of my top three, I love this battle. Often ridiculed for having bad AI or tough combat people ridicule this snake for not coming up to the surface, well i’ve got as word describing people like that bad at games all you have to do is imagine his line of sight and splish around in it and he comes up, you grab on and either tackle the electrode spines or avoid them entirely. Not the only subterranean colossus but the only water one unfortunately. ~~/10

#8 Kuromori [The Gecko]

Not the most annoying mouth cannon i’ve seen.

So far the most Aggro colossus we’ve met and on of the better puzzle ones, it doesn’t get so caught up in being a puzzle it stops being a fight. This colossus is one of the colossi who know you’re coming for their life and he’s not going to let you just take it. Unfortunately once you’ve cracked his puzzle he’s a cakewalk on later repeats but the first time he was the first I considered to be an opponent. Appreciative Head Nod/10

#9 Basaran [The Turtle]

The most annoying mouth cannon i’ve seen.

Here we go, the only other of these creatures I despise, the other being Minotaur Beard. The trick to this one is surgical precision and digitally accurate timing, if you don’t have that then good luck. This monstrosity needs tipping over (Because his developer names turtle *fake laugh*) and the only way to do that is to get him standing over one of the nearby geisers when it goes off, then you shoot his legs out and climb up him when he’s flipped. After the trial and effort it takes after all that you’re met with another run up it’s back and stab its head scenario exactly like quadratus. Also did I mention if you’re not at the exact right range he will spam the hell out of that cannon attack, I did not feel bad killing this one. Fuck you/10

#10 Dirge [Naga]

It took 15 mins and this was the best shot

Similar to his sibling from another parent dirge is the second subterranean colossi and definitely the less chill of the two, you still want to ride this one and stab his back but you don’t have to worry about splishing to get his attention this time. He wants you. One of the better puzzles of the game but not entirely obvious at first you have to get this one to crash into a wall and take the opportunity then to get on his back and land the killing blows. Quite an average experience to be honest lots of people place him at the bottom or the tops of their lists but I feel once you’ve got the trick down he’s a big pushover. Onix/10

#11 Celosia [The Lion]

You mess with the bull, you get the horn.

You find the sunken city, you continue on alone as Agro can’t handle stairs and you enter a temple with flames licking the was. Destroyed pillars? A roof? Before you can begin picturing the type of colossus you will fight an overweight cow with anger issues jumps down from the roof and you have to abuse its psychological fear of fir to break its armour and take advantage of the bare flesh. With it being further in the game it’s another colossus that feels like more of a puzzle than a duel but even so, overpowering a creature closer to your size is just as satisfying as a walking obelisque 50 times your size. 2 Horns/10

#12 Pelagia [Poseidon]

About as large as a blade of grass.

Swimming takes a while in this game. It’s not bad or hard to control, it’s just slow. and this battle has the most need for thought out swimming. Avion was just a swim to the start and Hydrus was just a splish and ride, but Pelagia moves while you swim which takes slight angling. When you get on his rear nub and worm up his back to his head you’re met with a crown of teeth rather than a weak point and with this you get to drive a colossus *play revived power*. It’s the inclusion of the steering your new whip and the incorporation of towers to access the colossus that make this fight original and shows you that the developers still had new ideas this close to the end. 7/10

#13 Phalanx [The Snake]

Game of the year 2005

Here we are, the star of the show. The fan favourite and it’s no question as to why, after a few experimental colossi that required thinking and plans this battle brings it back to the roots. There’s a big thing, you’re hopelessly insignificant, it’s completely innocent and you’ve got to kill it. The only one in which I had to take a screenie of the cutscene as it is too huge to fit in one shot during gameplay. Surely a colossus in every sense of the word and one where the magic never fades. 11/5

#14 Celosia Cenobia [Cerberus]

Mess with the Boar? You get the tusks?

From reading other reviews i’ve found that ceonbia is often cited as the worse of the two diddy colossi saying that Cenobia was a retexture of Celosia in a convoluted puzzle. I disagree though I think this is only because Celosia came first, Cenobia is the more aggressive of the two as it doesn’t have an apparent fear and it’s puzzle is way easier to figure just from looks. My only gripe is that the time to charge its charge is the exact amount of time it takes to get back up from a knock down so if you go down then you might as well move out because you’re done. CtrlV/10

#15 Argus [Minotaur C]

I’m so tired

The third and final minotaur bro and the biggest of the three, Argus. By now you kind of get the jist with these guys you have to get on their head and stab it with maybe another point on his chest, arm or even hand?? Once again often bashed for being another copy especially at the penultimate spot but I think it’s location, this guys cool as hell. Plus he’s the only one with black hair. C/10 #16 Malus [Evis]

He’s just too big for one shot

Finally, the big boss. This is a great boss fight, it doesn’t take away from the grandeur of the previous bosses but he has a whole sense of scale not seen in any other battle yet, and half the battle is just getting to him never mind on him. Also holy moly is he aggressive from as soon as you get up the initial ramp just to see him he’s firing lightnin out of his hands and waving his kilt like a nutjob. He fits perfectly on the difficulty curve of the game and is an incredible end to an incredible game. 16/48

Final Say

That’s all i’ve got to say really, it took me about 5 hours to write this and if that dedication to this game doesn’t convince you to play it then... fair enough it’s not really much of a reason to play it. Although you definitely should, it’s an alright game.