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marueonmain · 4 years

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WINDFLOWER

part three ~ without the dolphin ~

(part one) (part two) (part three)

A/N: Thank you all so so much for reading! I never thought people would care about my writing and I am so appreciative. I’ve got messages/asks open for comments or questions.

Summary: Y/N warms up to Alex. George advises him to not be an idiot.

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Secondhand Embarrassment. Mild Language.

Word Count: 2.3k

There was no music in the lift. There was no music to interrupt Alex's music blaring into his ears. If there were someone around, they would have heard his questionable song choice for the four-minute trip from his apartment to meet the deliveryman and back again. Not that that trip required music.

However, consider that the brain could think thousands of thoughts in four minutes, and the chances of those all being pleasant thoughts are minuscule. Why take that chance? Why not drown them all out?

DING the sliding doors opened. Alex stepped out with a bounce in his step set in-time with the backbeat of the chorus playing in his ears.

Coming from around the corner where the mailroom was, Y/N brushed past him in a flash of blue clothing. She did not seem to see him.

But he saw her, like a Where's Wally game he was not aware he was playing. He took out one of his earbuds, slipping it in his pocket. Alex was determined to be normal: to make up for the initial awkwardness of their first meeting.

Y/N walked past the lift and started for the stairs. She was on the fifth or sixth step.

"Red!" called Alex.

"Hmm? Oh, hello," she said, smiling.

"How are you doing?" It was uncomfortable for him to be on a lower plane than to whom he was speaking, but Y/N was not moving, so neither was he.

"Tired."

"For tired, you don't look too bad. No I didn’t—you don't look bad. You look good!" Amidst recovering from his slip, Alex noticed how different Y/N was then last time. Different in appearance, with her softer expression and relaxed shoulders, and in her aurora. It was calmer, more open.

"You look good too. That shade of yellow—" she pointed to his sweatshirt, "—compliments your hair."

"Really? You think?" He thought he might just melt or spill open in front of her.

"I'm not a liar. What are you up to?" Y/N looked around, keeping her head on a slight swivel. She returned to meet Alex's gaze with something like concern shining, hiding behind her animated expression.

"I'm meeting a deliveryman. If you want, you could come and eat pizza with George and me." After a short beat, he added, "Invite Sammy too."

"Is George your flatmate or..." Y/N intentionally trailed off.

"Flatmate." Alex thought he might have seen Y/N's smile widen more so for a second at his answer. But he could not be sure what he saw was real or just a manifestation of what he wished to see.

"He sounds nice."

"George? Yeah, he's lovely. Not as lovely as me, of course."

Nodding in mock seriousness, Y/N confirmed, "Of course."

It was a simple conversation, but it felt so alive: so real: so this is happening right now and Alex felt so present. Like looking at himself in the mirror late at night and being hit with the conscious recognition of I am a person. Here I am this corporeal being. Not made of words or thoughts, what I find funny or opinions I like, my mental state or view count.

Alex was real talking to Y/N. Words were free-flowing out of him as he processed and reacted simultaneously. Such an understanding – if harnessable – could lead to solutions for world hunger or maybe even get him to three million subscribers within the year.

"So, you'll come along?"

"I can't." Y/N frowned a slight frown. Her nervous nature returned as she cleared her throat and began to fiddle with her fingers.

"Come on, Red," his voice whined with the plea before stabilizing, "It'll be fun. It's not just pizza. I was planning on throwing together a salad as well to go with it."

"How healthy."

"Oh? Do you not know?" Alex paused so Y/N could shake her head. "I'm only buying a pizza to support local businesses; I'm really an expert in the kitchen."

"Is that right?" She raised an eyebrow.

"World-renowned."

"You know what? I see it now. Better than Ramsey, aren't you?"

"Leagues better. I'd challenge any chef to rival my bagged salad mix. It's spectacular – delicious."

Y/N giggled, and Alex joined.

Music had continued to blare from the earbud he left in, but he had been able to ignore it during the conversation. Until a particular song came on – one he downloaded as a joke – and he heard the line: got our song...up and ready

Did Alex wish Y/N and he had a song? No, that was dumb. An unrealistic expectation the romance genre shoved upon its (generally) female audience. But did he? Kind of. It would be cute. Men can want to be cute, too, right?

"So, you'll come?" he asked...again.

Y/N fiddled with the collar of her chin-hugging top. "I would, but I can't. Sam would—don't you think you've made your deliveryman wait long enough?"

"Probably. You have some time to change your mind; just ring me if you do."

"I don't have your number."

"Alright," he made a give it here gesture, "I'll plug it in."

Y/N's bright expression faltered a smidge as she relinquished her phone to him. It was an older model but still a smartphone: no passcode: no apps other than those built-in. Her wallpaper was a picture of Sammy and her on a nature walk.

Alex’s prominent adam's apple jumped. A pain like indigestion or like guilt stabbed him in the stomach. After plugging in his number, he took an extra second to double-check it and add some personal flair.

Y/N took her phone back. "Why the emoji? I think I'll know who you are without the..." Y/N squinted at the screen. "...without the dolphin."

"Never know. It could be a good reminder."

"I suppose, it does match your eyes," she muttered, still focused on the phone. Y/N froze for a second, clearly not having meant to say that out loud.

"There you go, it's perfect. Don't be afraid to call or text me; I'm on that thing 24/7, and I promise to reply in at least one-to-two business days. Guaranteed."

She scoffed, "You should go get your pizza."

It would not be the first or fifth time Alex had forgotten about a deliveryman, and – while he would let his extra-large go stone-cold before willingly break off a conversation with her – it was apparent Y/N was itching to get somewhere.

"True." Alex gave a short wave, maintaining his distance. "I'll see you later."

"Bye.” Y/N disappeared up the stairs.

~LATER~

Alex balanced the extra-large pizza box in one hand. Never having worked in food service, his confidence in doing so was even lower than his regular self-confidence. With his other hand, he patted himself down, looking for the key to his apartment. He cursed at himself for having locked it out of habit when he left.

There was muffled shouting coming from inside – sounding both playful and angry. It took a single step through the door for Alex to recognize the source of the shouting.

George was in his bedroom watching a video back without his headphones on.

A great grief. A true unseen struggle for all youtubers – headphones were uncomfortable. Constant low-pressure squeezing developed into the biggest hazard of the job: chronic headaches. Both flatmates had expressed how they sometimes woke up to the feeling like they needed to relieve a phantom pressure and take off their headphones despite not wearing them to bed.

"Take high ground," a familiar voice commanded. "You have to down this guy."

Pre-recorded George asked, "Where is he?"

"Left. LEFT! Your left! Goddammit George, you dyslexic bitch."

It was with bitch that Alex recognized the other voice in the recording– it was Joshy, and it was a fortnite video from the sound of it.

"This gun is so weak it's hitting nine damage," pre-recorded George complained.

Joshy screamed, "Let's go; we got to go!"

"You do your thing. I'll be over there in a bit."

Their bickering continued sounding identical in tone to that of a couple outside divorce court. Viewers loved how shit George was at fortnite and how increasingly frustrated that made Joshy: the shouting, the swearing, the idle threats and name-calling. Pairing up together for these types of gameplay videos would often have them banging out a quarter to half a million views per video.

Meanwhile. Alex placed the pizza box on the coffee table and fell onto the sofa with an exhausted sigh. Sitting up, he grabbed at the box lid and started claiming the best-looking slices in his head.

Eyes flickered to the closed-door: George had not heard him come in – surely not. And he would not be mad if Alex started in on devouring the pizza without him – surely not. Right?

Stacking two slices on top of one another, Alex crammed them into his mouth quick, as if scared they would be taken away from him, and burned his tongue.

"Help me," pleaded the pre-recorded George, "Help me. Help me."

"Nah. Don't think I will."

"Josh, if you don't revive me right now. I swear to god, I will piss in your mouth while you sleep."

Alex snorted, choking on the third slice of pizza he had fit in his big mouth; he had been on the receiving end of that piss threat before, several times. Most recently because he left a plate in the sink and George swore if Alex did not clean it that second, he would...well...piss in his mouth.

"That's not very nice." Joshy mimicked genuine sadness. "I got you."

1/3 of the pizza was gone, and Alex decided it fair to call George in before he scranned it all himself. "George! Pizza's here!"

"Alright!" George (the real not the pre-recorded) shouted back. There was the sound of his door closing and the padding of his socked feet down the short hall before he appeared around the corner. Met with Alex and the 2/3 of a room temperature pizza, he asked the appropriate, "What the fuck?"

"I was starved."

"And here I was thinking the one excuse I would accept for taking twenty years to get the pizza was that you'd run into the street and got hit.”

Alex spoke around his mouth being full, "Sorry."

"Whatever." He snuck in a quick smack against the side of Alex's head as he joined him on the sofa.

Both men sat in silence, shoving slices of pizza into their mouth like it was a competition. Like there was no other food in their apartment. Like they could not order another pizza. Like it proved something.

Breaking the silence, Alex swiped the sleeve of his sweatshirt across his mouth and asked, "Are we still filming that opening pokemon cards video tomorrow?"

"Yes. Just need someone to film the over-the-shoulder angle. Lewis is sick."

"Sick with what?"

"Not the bug." George rolled his eyes mockingly. His eating had slowed down after hitting the wall, half-way through his fifth slice. "It's like a cold or something. Could you ask your new mate Sammy to do it?"

"Why not ask Will to come down?"

"Don't trust him," he said, shrugging.

"Fair enough. I'll ask him when we hit the pub later." Alex stood and walked to the kitchen. At the sink, he washed his hands with dish detergent and, cupping his hands into a bowl, washed around his mouth with the soapy water. Satisfied, he took a towel to his hands and face before returning to see George shutting the lid on the pizza box. "What do you think of Sammy?"

"How do you mean?"

"Just in general."

George shrugged. "He's cool."

"Yeah," Alex agreed – because he did agree with the statement; he liked Sammy.

There was a pause, and, in the interlude, George stood and grabbed the pizza box. He brought it to the kitchen bin; balancing it on top the overflowing rubbish. Curious and perhaps thinking he heard a tonal shift in their dialogue, George settled himself to be pressing his shoulder against the wall nearest where Alex stood. Leaning like he was in a how do you do fellow kids meme.

Alex felt very much 'squared up' to. He turned to be met with a quick tilt of the head and a scrutinizing near-glare from his flatmate. It was not unlike George to stick his nose in where it does not belong; could this be considered that type of situation? Alex did ask for his opinion.

Clearing his throat, George asked, "Is this about Y/N?"

"I was talking to her earlier and—"

"Why were you talking to her?"

"—and I got the sense that Sammy might be like a tad controlling. I don't know."

"Are you serious?" George asked harshly before continuing in a softer voice – with a hint of hesitation, of caution, "You know what happens when you jump to conclusions like that. You shouldn't be chatting up Y/N behind Sammy's back."

"It wasn't like I cornered her. We ran into each other." Alex tugged on his sleeves, pulling them past his shaking fingers – seconds away from crawling into himself.

It was not playful bullying between friends anymore; it was a telling off. And neither was comfortable. George's eyes pleaded for Alex to look up and meet them, and for Alex to understand. Alex held no negative feelings toward George. But Alex hated himself for reacting as he was; he hated being human and having sensitive moments. Though he could not stop it.

"You have got to back off. Ok?" George confirmed, "If it means we can't have Sammy in the friend group, then that's what it means. We'll find someone else to film for us tomorrow."

"No, it's fine. I'll ask him," Alex said as he pulled up and straightened his posture. He smiled at George's concerned expression and added, "I'm not interested in Y/N."

#imallexx #imallexx imagine #imallexx x reader #alex elmslie #alex elmslie imagine #alex elmslie x reader #internet sensation #commentary crew #eboys #memeulous

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whumpitywhumpwhump · 4 years

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Here’s Mafia Week Day 7! Prompt: Vendetta.

There’s a bit where they discuss homophobia briefly, and also there’s some death mentioned too (specifically of a pregnant person).Oh, and a brief mention/reference to a bad childhood home (implied child abuse, but nothing explicit here).

Beck didn’t leave his apartment for two days. He also didn’t hear from Simon.

Instead, he sat on his couch, icing his face, clutching a pillow against his aching chest. Usually after a good beatdown, the pain made it too difficult to entertain thoughts, but this time the panic was cutting cleanly through all other sensations. Where was Simon? Was he ok? Did Pat even know yet? How long would it be until he found out? And after that, would he piece together the truth about him and Simon?

If it were any other family that had gotten ahold of the briefcase, Beck thought bitterly, it would have been alright—survivable, at least. But the Connells? They’ve been the enemies for decades, long before Beck even joined up. Back when he was still a toddler three states away, hiding from his parents as they smashed dishes against walls and screamed, Pat and his wife Mirabel were expecting a child—an heir to the family business.

Simon told him the whole story one night, while they were sitting in Beck’s car, maybe three months after they’d started dating.

“How come Pat never married or had his own kids? He always calls you his heir and stuff, why not have his own?”

“He was married once, but it didn’t end well for Aunt Mirabel.”

“Wait, really? What happened?”

“Aunt Mirabel was a fierce woman and ran as much of the business as Uncle Pat did. From what everyone says, she was nothing like Ma. My mother is great, but she would never be willing to go head-to-head with, say, the head of the Bertinessis or something. Aunt Mirabel would walk right in, and they’d be scared of her. Even after she got pregnant. You don’t have to guess why Uncle Pat loved her so much. Nick used to tell me about the two of them together, what Uncle Pat was like back then. He was… warmer, apparently. Not with anyone else, just with her.

Anyway, she was like, 5 months along or something, right? And Uncle Pat’s got this sting planned on the Connells, at one of their old hideouts, a seafood place down by the dock. And everything was going just as planned, until one of their people escaped the hit, and took matters into his own hands. It was the Connell heir at the time, this kid named Joel. A lot of his relatives died in the hit, so he decided to strike back, right where it hurt. He came to Uncle Pat’s house and started shooting through the windows—this was his old house, not the one you’ve seen. My uncle wasn’t home, because he was waiting at the deli for the report after the hit. By the time he got home, Aunt Mirabel was… well, he took her to the hospital, and they couldn’t do anything for her or the baby.”

“That’s terrible.”

“He couldn’t remarry—that’s why I’m his heir. A blood nephew, next best thing to a son of his own. It’s also why he hates the Connells so much. He’s basically had a vendetta against them ever since then. Anything they’re involved is immediately life and death, no negotiations, no second chances, nothing. Which, I don’t agree, necessarily, but I get it, you know?”

“Yeah, makes sense.”

Beck hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now—well, now, that vendetta put a target on Simon’s head. And, he supposed, on his.

The idea of falling in love with Simon hadn’t seemed that dangerous before it happened, or even while he was falling. It was only after that he realized the implications. Again, Simon had to spell it out for him.

“My uncle can’t know we’re dating.”

“Wait, what? Why not? I though he was ok with gay people—isn’t Mad Dog gay?”

“Oh no, Uncle Pat’s not homophobic or anything, he doesn’t really care about that stuff. Like, my mom dated a few women back in the day. It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“Well… I’m his heir.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“I’m the closest blood relative in the next generation, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“So one day, I’ll need an heir.”

“Makes sense, but—”

“A blood heir. I need to make a kid. Biologically.”

“But Uncle Pat chose you, and you’re his nephew, not his son.”

“True. But I don’t have any siblings, so I can’t choose a niece or nephew. It has to be my kid, or at least, it has to be under Uncle Pat’s rules at least. Once he dies, I’m just gonna do what I want to, but for now, he can’t know. You can’t let him know, Beck. He will kill you if he thinks you’re a threat to the family line. I’m serious, ok?”

Simon wasn’t serious often, but then again, he never fidgeted either, and when he asked Beck to keep their relationship secret, he was curling and uncurling his fingers in his lap. So Beck had nodded.

“I won’t say a word.”

And he hadn’t. Beck had done everything in his power to keep Pat from finding out about them, because he didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want anything to happen to Simon. But now, if Pat killed Simon, and he figured out that the reason Simon screwed up was a secret relationship with Beck? Well, in short, they were both fucked.

Normally, Beck could keep his calm. But he also usually heard from his boyfriend pretty quickly when things were dangerous because Simon knew he’d worry.

Two days, and not a single text or call from Simon—that was not good news.

Beck pulled himself up from the couch, stifling a groan as his ribs shifted. They still hurt like hell, but he’d just take another ibuprofen and ignore them. He shuffled into the kitchen and pulled the fridge open. The little light flicked on inside, illuminating the scant contents. With a sigh, he grabbed the container of sliced ham, a few slices of cheddar, and the jar of mayonnaise. Halfway through prepping his sandwich for dinner, he heard his cellphone buzzing in the next room. He considered going to check it right away, but a grumble in his stomach convinced him it could wait for two minutes while he got this sandwich ready.

Carrying his dinner on a plate, he returned to the living room and settled back onto the couch. He balanced the plate on the arm and picked up his phone.

MR. RIGGS flashed on the screen—the codename he’d used for Simon in his phone. He swallowed hard and unlocked his phone, opening the message. The text was short, but thorough.

He knows.

As Beck’s thumb hovered over the keys, trying to figure any way to answer that, a second message appeared.

He knows about everything.

Sweat broke out along Beck’s hairline. His skin crawled like he could already sense a gun pointed at him. A third message came up, longer.

He’s going to kill me—I’m in my room, door’s locked, but he’s coming up. Beck, you need to leave the city. I love you, I’m sorry.

Beck typed out the words, “I love you too, Simon,” but before he pressed send, one last message flashed onscreen.

I’m scared, Beck.

Somehow, that was worse than the other messages. Simon was never scared, not enough to admit it to anyone. Beck’s eyes watered, and he straightened up on the couch.

He was not going to let Pat kill Simon—not tonight, not ever.

Beck closed his text with Simon and typed in a different number in his phone, one he hadn’t used in years. He typed as fast as he could, trying to say everything in as few words as possible. She never liked long, winding explanations.

Hey, Sadie. It’s Beck. I need your help. My boyfriend is Pat the Butcher’s nephew, he leaked info to the Connell family (my fault), and Pat is going to kill him. Text me back ASAP.

Looking down at the message, he clicked send, then chuckled sadly. It wasn’t how he planned on coming out to his sister, but then again, he’d planned on never speaking to her again.

Her reply popped up maybe two minutes later.

They’re taking him to the docks, pit stop at the deli for a beatdown. Cement shoes. Be there in 20, wait 30 secs after they drop him, go in after. I’ll pick you up on the corner of 8th and Bettler, 10 mins after, black SUV with Oregon plates.

Perks of having a sister who was also a criminal mastermind—he’d never found a limit to what Sadie could find out or fix. Who she called in the organization to get those details, he’d never know, but he was so grateful she did. As he pushed himself up from the couch to grab his keys, his phone buzzed again, and he looked down to see another message from Sadie.

When he unlocked the screen, he grinned softly. It was just a little rainbow flag emoji.

He shook his head, dropping his phone into his pocket. He grabbed his keys, wallet, and a coat, stepped into some sneakers, then rushed out the door.

It was time to go save Simon.

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not-close-to-straight · 5 years

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Heart Emoji (Group Texting Verse)(One)

Welcome to the story! This is a part three to our Not Dating verse featuring all of our faves planning Valentines Day over ridiculous text messages and unfortunate conversations!

PART TWO

********************

From Tony: Alright, I’d like to officially welcome everyone to the grand opening of our Valentines Day Group Chat. Welcome welcome.

From Clint: Good god, that’s actually what he named the group chat. The Grand Opening of Our Valentines Day Group Chat. Tony, wtf?

From Tony: Just because you don’t have any creativity and never come up with good chat names doesn’t mean you have to get all pissy because mine's great. Chill out Archer-man.

From Clint: Yours isn’t great, Tony. You literally just named it after the topic of conversation. Sort of like your awesome superhero name. Iron Man because you’re a man who flies around in an iron bucket. Very clever.

From Tony: AN IRON WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY?

From Sam: Bucky, step in and save your man. Clint's on a warpath.

From Bucky: Let’s be real Sammy boy, I don’t think it’s my man that needs to be saved. If Clint doesn’t stop insulting Tony’s suit, you’re gonna find your favorite bird friend fried and served with gravy for dinner tonight.

From Sam: Noted. Clint, back the hell off. Why are you so cranky, man?

From Clint: I’m not cranky, you winged bitch.

From Bucky: YOU WINGED BITCH! Open mouthed laughing emoji.

From Natasha: You’re cranky my love, and I know it’s my fault. I promise I’m coming home in forty eight hours and then I will make up for every moment I’ve missed with you.

From Clint: I’m not cranky! Also, did Frosty just spell out which emoji he's using?

From Natasha: Yes, he did and yes you’re cranky.

From Steve: Little bit cranky, Barton.

From Bruce: I smiled at you yesterday and you tried to bite me.

From Sam: I tried to spar with you and you put an arrow in my foot.

From Bucky: You favorite show went to commercial last night and you threw the remote at the tv.

From Tony: WHAT THE FUCK THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LIVING ROOM TV

From Clint: Okay so maybe I’m a little cranky. But in my defense, Natasha has been gone a week later than she was supposed to be so I’m week late for my usual loving.

From Bucky: Use your hand, dude. That's what they're there for. Pick a hand and go to town. Use the other hand for the stranger experience.

From Steve: God Bucky, you spend so much time with Tony you're starting to talk to him.

From Tony: WHAT I have never said anything like that in my life. What the hell is the stranger experience? Bucky what sort of things do you watch when I'm not home??

From Sam: Also, there's so many things wrong with that sentence Frosty, I don’t even know where to begin. Like first of all, hands are there for so much more than solitary loving.

From Natasha: And second of all?

From Sam: Honestly, I didn’t think I needed a second of all, wasn’t the first thing enough?

From Tony: Okay okay okay Clint is cranky because he hasn’t been laid in a while and Bucky has no idea what hands are for and has apparently been watching less than family friendly films. BUT seriously can we start talking about Valentines Day?

From Bruce: Before we get started on whatever shenanigans Tony has planned, can we agree to keep the pink and red decorations to a minimum?

From Tony: Absolutely not.

From Steve: Bruce, it seems as if it's too late to butt in on the shenanigan planning. I’m not a real big fan of pink and red either but if Tony is already naming the group chat, all we can do is buckle in for the ride

From Bucky: Strap ourselves in and feel.the.g’s.

From Sam: That sounds frightening, but yeah Brucie bear. Too late to stop this thing from happening.

From Clint: I will literally tear down every scrap of pink and red I find. I'll do it. I swear.

From Natasha: Clint, stop that. Don’t destroy Tony’s fun just because you’re horny. I told you I will be home in forty eight hours. Tony can I request a very blood red and very pale pink please?

From Tony: Horrifying blood red and the palest pink of the softest rose. Got it.

From Bruce: So that's it? I don’t get a say in the decorations?

From Steve: Probably not

From Sam: Probably not

From Natasha: Probably not

From Bucky: Probably not

From Clint: Well I don’t get a say in anything either, so join the party Bruce.

From Tony: OH MY GOD CLINT STOP SULKING YOU CAN SLEEP WITH ME AND BUCKY TONIGHT AS LONG AS YOU SHUT UP

From Bucky: Uhhhhh no he most definitely cannot, you take that back right now.

From Clint: No wait, I'm actually on board with this. Pretty sure getting to feel up on Tony’s booty will cheer me up and tide me over until the wifey gets home.

From Bucky: You will shut the hell up or I will shut you the hell up, do you understand me? Don’t you talk about Tony’s booty like that. Where's the goddamn gun emoji??

From Steve: Sheesh guys, for a Valentines Day themed group chat there is a lot of threats going around. I thought we were going to talk about dinner and how many flowers we're getting each other and maybe candy.

From Natasha: It’s literally adorable how being with Thor has turned Steve into a sap. Are you looking forward to Valentines Day, Captain?

From Steve: I really am. Really am. Thor spoils me so much and I can’t way to do something wonderful for him. In fact, I have some ideas that I would love some help carrying out if anyone wants to volunteer?

From Tony: I 100% volunteer to help you with making Valentines Day with Thunder Thighs as amazing as possible.

From Natasha: I want to help as well, but mostly because you blush incredibly red every time things get sweet between you and Thor and it makes for the best blackmail pictures.

From Bruce: Ah yes, blackmail. The very heart of that loving Valentines Day spirit. So are all you various couples going off and doing things for Valentines Day? Will I have the place to myself?

From Tony: Bucky and I are going out.

From Steve: Thor and I probably won't be going out, but we will be hiding away in our room.

From Clint: You won’t see me and Natasha for a week.

From Natasha: Can confirm. An entire week.

From Sam: Brucie bear. I’d like to talk you about that, if I could.

From Bruce: About what?

From Sam: About you being alone while everyone else is paired off. We should talk about that.

From Bruce: Why would we need to talk about that?

From Steve:... what is happening?

From Bruce: Sam, what do you mean?

From Sam: I’m just saying maybe you don’t have to be alone on Valentines Day. I'd like to spend the day with you, and if that sounds like something you’d be interested in, we should talk.

From Steve: Seriously, what is happening?

From Tony: I’m just as confused as you, Spangles.

From Bucky: Are Sam and Bruce--

From Clint: Nope. But I mean… maybe?

From Natasha: Bruce is a catch, Sam is lucky to have him

From Tony: No I agree, Bruce is a catch but…

From Bruce: Sam, that sounds like something I’m interested in.

From Sam: Good to know. I’m off to the gym kids, Steve and Frosty you gonna meet me there?

From Steve: Uh, yep?

From Bucky: Sure. Tony, I’ll pick you up for dinner tonight okay? Heart emoji.

From Tony: Yes.

From Tony: WAIT! Bucky did you just type out heart emoji?

From Clint: Wow. It’s almost like your boyfriend is a hundred years old and doesn’t know how to use a phone.

From Tony: Yeah, well at least my boyfriends around to give me a dicking down so I’m not a sourpuss all the time

From Natasha: He has a point, husband of mine.

From Clint: Just hurry up and get home, Tasha.

From Bruce: For all our sakes because if Clint tries to bite me again I’m going put a muzzle on him.

From Natasha: Noted

From Tony: This was the least productive Valentines Day chat ever.

**************

“Thor!” Bucky raised his hand in greeting and from across gym, Thor waved back. “Y'know, I don’t even get why he works out. Is there anything in here that actually puts any strain on his muscles?”

“I dunno.” Sam shrugged. “Wouldn’t think so, right? What’s he gonna do, bench press the entire gym? I read in an article that one time Thor put an ass whoopin’ on a celestial and the shock wave from the beating would have literally destroyed a planet if Thor hadn’t stopped it from happening.”

“Did you read that in a comic book?” Steve looked up from taping his knuckles. “Sam? Did you read that in a comic book?”

“I said I read it in an article.”

“We know what you said.” Bucky smirked over at Steve. “But we’re asking if you read it in a comic book.”

“Okay yes!” Sam threw his hands up. “Yes! I read it in a comic book! But come on, Steve is literally banging the god of Thunder. As in, the one that entire civilizations worshiped and whole comic book series and some pretty terrible Saturday morning cartoons were made about. Thor. Literally a god. Of course I read it in a comic book!”

“Ain’t like he read it in the Bible.” Bucky pointed out. “Comic book makes just as much sense as anything else.”

“You’re both stupid.” Steve motioned for Sam to join him in the boxing ring. “We working out or what?”

“Answer me one more question.” Sam dodged a quick blow from Steve. “Cracking on other god-like creatures and exploding planets aside, why doesn’t Thor text? He loves everything about Midgard except for like, pineapples. And he loves the TV, so why doesn’t he love phones or texting?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The next punch was a little harder, Steve frowning. “Let’s just spar.”

“Nope hold on, now I wanna know.” Bucky leaned over the side of the ring, pushing his hair out of his face. “Why don’t your man like texting? I barely like it but I join in cos Tony loves to talk like that and I don’t really feel comfortable being left out of group chats.”

“Yeah Frosty, when you aren’t part of the chat we talk all sorts of shit.” Sam informed him, scrambling out of the way when Bucky winged a boxing glove at him. “I mean all kinds of shit. You should hear how Tony talks about you when you aren’t around.”

“Does he talk about my dick?” Both Steve and Sam grimaced and Bucky grinned in satisfaction. “Yeah, my baby loves that Winter lovin’.”

“Anyway.” Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to Steve. “How come Thor doesn’t text? Please tell me it’s something about how his big sausage fingers can’t work on the touch screen.”

“It’s not that.” Steve cleared his throat. “It’s uh-- well one day I was messing with the vibe feature on my phone since I don’t like the ring tones? And I thought it would be funny to put my phone on Thor’s leg while we were group texting.”

“....and?” Bucky prompted when Steve stalled for a minute. “And what did Thunder Thighs do?”

“...you guys blew up my phone with the group chat and Thor--” Steve sighed out loud. “It scared the hell out of him because he wasn’t expecting the vibe to be that strong and he zapped it.”

“He zapped it?” Sam echoed. “Like, your phone buzzed a little and the god of Thunder got a scared and called his holy lightning and fried your phone?”

“It’s not--” Steve clenched his jaw irritably. “It’s not holy lightning.”

“It’s sort of holy lightning, Cap.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you were MIA from group chat for a week? Thor fried your phone?”

“That’s exactly why.”

“Well that’s better than my theory.” Sam snarked, tagging Steve’s shoulder with his right. “I figured your big ass just sat on the damn thing.”

“Sorry to disprove that little theory.” Steve said dryly. “Now come on, I thought we were going to spar.”

“Yeah all right.”

Bucky watched them in silence for a few minutes, then spoke up again when they took a break for water. “Stevie, what’re’ya doin’ for Thor for Valentines Day? You said you needed help with it.”

“Oh no, I’m not telling either of you what I’m doing for Thor.” Steve shook his head. “Nuh-uh. No way.”

“I’m offended.” Sam gasped, and Bucky insisted-- “We’re your best friends! How you not gonna tell us what you’re doing for your boyfriend? We were the ones cheering for you two to get together the entire time! It’s not like we’re gonna make fun of you!”

“Oh yeah?” Steve challenged, folding his arms. “You aren’t going to make fun of me? Alright then. Bucky, tell me what you are thinking right now.”

“....I don’t want to.”

“Bucky.”

“Alright alright.” The big soldier made a face. “I was just thinking that you must have found a mega supportive sports bra cos them tiddies are lookin’ mighty perky today.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Steve sounded less than impressed. “Sam? What about you?”

“Was wonderin’ how many times you had to wash and shrink your shirt to get it that tight.” Sam muttered. “I can see the outline of your nips, man. Not only your actual nips? But also the outline of them.”

“And that’s why I’m not telling you what I’m doing for Thor.” Steve decided. “Because you assholes can’t go more than five minutes without making fun of me.”

“You know what, that’s fair.” Sam shrugged and Bucky shrugged too. “You deserve a secret or two.”

“Are we keeping secrets, my love?” Thor came up on the conversation and Sam had to bite back another smart remark when Steve basically leapt over the side of the ring and right into Thor’s arms.

“Hello beloved.” Thor murmured, and Steve all but melted into him, looping both his arms over Thor’s neck and pulling him down for a long kiss, whispering something that had the demi-god rumbling and the lights flickering as his power pulsed around them.

“Annnnnnd Stevie’s done with the workout.” Bucky ducked under the rope so he could spar with Sam instead. “Any time the fuckin’ lights start going crazy it means they’re bout to get naked.”

“You don’t gotta tell me that.” Sam shuddered theatrically. “I used to room next to Steve back when they thought they were being incognito but were not in fact being incognito at all.”

“That sounds terrible and awkward.”

“You have no idea.” They fell into an easy rhythm together, not even breaking a sweat yet when Sam added, “What are you and Tony doing?”

“Tony made a point of tellin’ me he wants to show me how far hotels have come.” Bucky didn’t bother blocking Sam’s next swing, just batted it out of the air as if it were nothing more than a mosquito, laughing when Sam scowled at him. “I dunno what he means by that, but I know m’gettin’ laid and that’s all I care about.”

“Right. Because Valentines Day is about sex--” another punch swatted away and Sam’s scowl deepened. “--and not about admitting feelings or enjoying the already established feelings or nothing like that.”

“Nope.” Bucky was still laughing. “Just sex! Oh, but that reminds me--” suddenly he wasn’t laughing and Sam’s eyes widened when the next punch wasn’t a punch at all but a metal fist closing in his shirt, yanking him forward until he was eye to eye with Bucky.

“I dunno what the hell you’re doin’ with Bruce?” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “But tread lightly.”

“Bucky--” Sam wheezed a little and Bucky shook his head.

“Tread lightly, Sam. You aren’t gonna mess with him, you hear?”

“Damn, Buck.” Sam jerked away-- or rather, Bucky let him go. “Why do you think I’d be messing with Bruce?”

“Cos I’ve watched you walk into a bar and walk back out with someone to spend th’night with fifteen minutes later.” Bucky said flatly. “But Bruce isn’t into--” he made a vague motion. “Sex isn’t his thing. Neither is romance. You need’ta know that before you start getting handsy.”

“Okay for the record, I’m not getting handsy with Bruce.” Sam rubbed at his neck uncomfortably. “And how do you know that anyway? About him and sex, I mean.”

Bucky chewed at his lip for a few seconds, wondering exactly how much to tell Sam, then-- “Alright. Well back when I was having trouble adjusting to normal life and all--”

“Before you and Tony started humping it out?”

“--yeah, before me and Tony started humping it out.” he confirmed. “I ended up talkin’ to Bruce for a bit and he told me it was alright cos he wasn’t into sex either and that I wasn’t broken or nothing. Told me that sometimes after going through what we've been through, that sorta thing can go away, or maybe it wasn't there at all and that's fine. He made me feel less like a--”

Bucky made a vague sort of motion. “-- It was just one more thing that was wrong with me, you know? But he told me that it wasn't something wrong with me, just like it ain't something wrong with him.”

“Oh.” Sam crossed his arms as he thought about what Bucky had said. “I didn’t know any of that. Didn't know Bruce didn't do... any of that.”

“Well now you do, and I’m telling you to be careful with'em.” Bucky watched Sam for a minute. “Does that change your Valentines Day plans?”

“Not once did I say my plans involved sex.” Sam protested, and Bucky called to Thor-- “Thor! You ever spend a Valentines Day with someone and not got them into bed?”

“Of course not!” Thor boomed. “Holidays are a time for bodies to be entwined on various surfaces and beneath various blankets!”

“You hear that, Sam? Various surfaces.”

“I have every intention of having my beloved as many ways as he will let me.” Thor continued, framing Steve’s face with his hands and drawing him into a passionate kiss. “And as many times as you will let me, Steven. Sweetheart, I would have you in my arms every moment the sun is traveling it's path across the skies and even as the moon rises to greet the stars.”

“Oh god--” Bucky made a gagging motion. “How does Stevie listen to all that with a straight face?”

“You say that sorta bullshit to Tony too.” Sam scoffed. “Thor just says it all prettier. You and Tony are just as smooshy and gross.”

Bucky grinned, flushing a light pink. “Yeah, we sort of are, aren’t we?”

“Oh for fucks sake, I didn't say that so you'd start looking all stupid, I was trying to make you feel bad about yourself and your ridiculous behavior!”

“Well it didn't work.”

“Yeah. Apparently.”

***************

From Steve: Hey, are either of you two busy today?

From Natasha: Either of us two? Is it just Tony and I on this chat? My oh my Captain, keeping secrets from the rest of the team are we? How very spy like of you, I completely approve.

From Tony: Steve would literally make the worst spy ever, he’s entirely too patriotic to sneak in anywhere. People would see him coming a thousand miles away. Oh no! Here comes America! Hide the oil reserves!

From Steve: Tony, you know I have a stealth suit, right? You designed my stealth suit. Dark blue, blends into the shadows real well-- what do you mean I can’t sneak in anywhere?

From Tony: Spangles, I could literally put you in camouflaging nano-particles that make you invisible to the human eye, but you carry that big ass frisbee everywhere you go and sort of ruin the stealth factor.

From Natasha: HERE COMES AMERICAS FRISBEE! HIDE THE OIL RESERVES!

From Steve: Neither of you are funny.

From Natasha: I beg to differ, I think I’m quite hilarious.

From Tony: Absolutely hilarious.

From Steve: Are you two done? Can I talk now?

From Tony: Stars and Gripes is upset because he started a group chat but now he’s being left out.

From Natasha: Never got over that complex from being pre-serum and never picked to play kickball on the playground huh?

From Steve: Oh my god, why am I friends with you people?

From Tony: Because you’re planning something for Thor that requires my genius and Natasha’s skills? Or is it my money and Natasha’s advice? Use of one of my homes and Natasha as a bodyguard? I’ve got a thousand ideas, stop me if I get it right.

From Steve: You’re not getting it right.

From Natasha: Alright then Rogers, tell us why you need our help.

From Steve: I don’t really know what to get Thor for Valentines Day. He is over the top romantic and you know… a god? So just chocolates and a cheesy card isn’t going to cut it.

From Natasha: Can confirm, that’s no way to impress a god.

From Tony: Have you thought about doing something FOR him? Hammer man seems the type to be more impressed because you thought of doing something together that he will love versus being impressed because you bought him something. Also, you have no money, so that’s sort of your only option.

From Steve: I have money!

From Natasha: Not enough to impress a god.

From Tony: Or a Stark

From Steve: NOTED.

From Tony: Have you asked Thor what he wants?

From Steve: Yes, he said he wants to have me in as many ways as I would let him, for as long as I would let him, and wants me in his arms as the sun travels across the sky and as the moon rises to greet the stars.

From Tony: Are you serious? And you didn’t rip his clothes off right then and there?

From Steve: Well I mean, we were in the gym.

From Tony: And? How was that a deterrent? There’s mats on the floor. Holy shit, I think I might be a little in love with Thor after that line.

From Natasha: What a panty-dripper.

From Steve: I’m sorry, what did you just say?

From Tony: 100% agree. Not currently wearing panties, but if I were….boy howdy.

From Natasha: Boy howdy is the least sexiest thing you could possibly say after a woman admits to the current status of her underthings being less than Sahara like.

From Tony: Less than Sahara like? Nat I’m literally crying with laughter.

From Steve: I’M SORRY WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? WHAT KIND OF CONVERSATION IS THIS?

From Natasha: Idk Cap, you’re the one who started it.

From Tony: Yeah, what did you want to talk about again? I got sidetracked by Nat’s panties.

From Tony: There’s a line I never thought I’d say.

From Tony: Who am I kidding, I’ve said it at least four times this week. Nat, sweetheart, you’ve got to stop forgetting bits and pieces of your laundry in the living room.

From Natasha: Apologies. Captain, back to your issue. Do you have an idea on what to do for Thor for Valentines Day?

From Steve: …. … … …

From Tony: Cap? The little dots on your screen are thinking awfully hard. What’s on your mind?

From Steve: … … ...

From Natasha: Oh my god, we broke him. Talked about underwear for too long and Cap just snapped. Steve, emoji once if you’re okay, twice if you need help.

From Steve: I was just thinking-- What if I wear something… nice… for Thor?

From Tony: Like your dress suit with the extra brilliant star? He’d love that.

From Natasha: You’ve been wearing leggings a lot around him, not that all of us have noticed and are commenting and judging you wildly for them. Why not get a new pair with glitter or some other bullshit?

From Tony: OH! You could get that blue silk robe that he likes you to wear and wear nothing underneath it.

From Natasha: OR you could get that blue silk robe that he likes you to wear and just wear one thing underneath it.

From Tony: How is that sexier than nothing?

From Natasha: Some things are better left to the imagination, Tony.

From Tony: I can’t imagine there is a literal inch of Steve’s body that Thor has to IMAGINE, Nat. Pretty sure that pillar of patriotism has been searched THOROUGHLY.

From Natasha: Ugh, I just ugly snorted my water up my nose.

From Steve: I like Natasha’s idea.

From Tony: I swear, I’m actually forgetting that Steve is part of this conversation. Nat, we need to hang out more.

From Natasha: Noted, darling. Steve, you like my idea? What’s the one sexy thing you want to wear under your robe?

From Steve: What if I wore something like what you wear for Clint? Would you guys help me buy something like that?

From Tony: My brain just broke. Did Captain America just as us to help him pick out lingerie?

From Natasha: Steve, I mean this in the most loving way possible, because you are my friend and our Captain and I’ve literally risked my life for you and you’ve saved me so you know I mean this from the bottom of my heart--

From Steve: Yeah?

From Natasha: Oh honey, you are NOT ready to wear something like what I wear for Clint. But we can ease you into something a little more your level.

From Tony: My brain rebooted. Nat that’s an amazing idea. Steve, Thor will be so excited. What are you thinking? I’m thinking a romper, cut high and tight over them butt cheeks and leaving your back open because if there’s one thing I love about a super soldier, it's those ridiculous shoulders and back muscles.

From Natasha: Or a teddy, something to show off his pecs and and more than generous package.

From Tony: Garter belt, definitely. Thor wouldn’t able to handle those gams in nylons.

From Natasha: A cincher to show off that stupidly tiny waist.

From Steve: I don’t know what any of those words mean. I was thinking more along the lines of underwear.

From Natasha: Cheeky cut? Tanga? Thong? Boyshort? Bikini? Hipsters? French?

From Steve: Um… briefs?

From Tony: Ruffled? Lace? Blinged out? Satin? Velvet? Ruched? Silk? Transparent? Crotchless?

From Steve: Oh my god.

From Natasha: Well I’ll be home tomorrow evening, and after I spend some time with Clint, I think we need to go shopping, Tony.

From Tony: Oh we definitely need to go shopping.

From Steve: I sort of regret asking you guys for help

From Tony: Aw, no you don’t.

From Natasha: Not yet, anyway.

From Steve: WHAT?!

**************

“Hey Brucie-Bear.” Sam knocked on the door of the lab before sauntering in, hands in his pockets as he glanced around at all the shiny things. “You busy?”

“Oh, has the Brucie Bear thing carried over into real life conversations?” Bruce blinked at Sam from behind huge goggles. “That’s fantastic. Exactly what I wanted to have happen as a result of group texting.”

“You knew it was bound to happen Bruce, no use fighting it. By the way, those are amazing glasses.” Sam grinned and tapped at the goggles. “I always had a thing for nerds.”

“That’s weird. You’re being weird, Sam.” Bruce went back to whatever he was working on. “What’s on your mind?”

“I was thinking we should talk about what we’re doing for Valentines Day.” He replied easily, sitting up on one of the stainless steel tables. “Everyone else is making plans, we should get started on our own. Any good ideas?”

“Oh you were serious about that.” More owlish blinking, Bruce obviously taken aback. “I figured you were joking. Or you know-- joking.”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Why would you want to spend Valentines Day with me?”

“I don’t--” Sam frowned. “I don’t know how to answer that without sounding like a dumb ass, and I’m not used to being on the dumb ass side of the conversation. I usually reserve that for the super soldiers.”

“Right.” Bruce went back to working, but he was smiling a little bit. “Well if you weren’t joking, I’d be open to doing something with you. But um--” he hesitated. “I don’t know how to say this nicely so--”

“You don’t hafta be nice to me.” Sam shrugged it off. “I got thick skin.”

“I’m not attracted to you at all and have no interest in ever seeing you in anything other than all of your clothes all the time.” Bruce said bluntly. “At all. Ever. Not even a little bit.”

“That--that seems harsh?” Sam cleared his throat. “I mean, damn Bruce. Why you gotta lay it out like that, there’s easier ways to say that shit.”

“I just don’t want you to get any ideas.” Bruce answered flatly. “About anything. Ever.”

“Alright, well don’t take this the wrong way, but I wasn’t going in that direction with my sentence.” Sam laughed out loud at Bruce’s expression. “Don’t worry. Bucky told me that you aren’t into-- into all of that. But even before I knew--” he made a vague motion. “I just mean we should hang out on Valentines Day so neither one of us have to hang out alone while everyone else is acting all stupid.”

“You think everyone will be acting stupid?”

“This is Tony and Bucky’s first Valentines Day.” Sam started counting off on his fingers. “I don’t know exactly what they have planned, but Bucky said something about seeing how far hotel rooms have came and considering what we catch them doing around here, I definitely don’t want to be around before OR after they defile a hotel room in some terrible naked fashion.”

Bruce snorted and Sam grinned. “Natasha’s been gone most of January, which means that Clint is hurtin’ for some lovin’, you know? Plus they are always shockingly kinky when it comes to Valentines Day. Last year I caught Clint carrying what looked like a saddle into their bedroom.”

Bruce’s eyes widened and Sam leaned in closer. “A saddle, Bruce. To their bedroom. And that wasn’t even after an extended period of non humping. Clint hasn’t been laid in three weeks at this point. If a saddle is normal Valentines Day stuff, what the hell are they going to bring around for a Valentines Day after an extended period of celibacy?”

“This is a terrible conversation.”

“Oh it’s gonna get worse.” He said matter of factly. “Thor and Steve? Last week the power was out for six hours because Steve didn’t have any clean clothes and wore one of Thor’s stupidly big shirts over those stupid leggings we all judge him for. Lightning literally flashed in the kitchen and we lost power for six hours. Six. Over thotty ass leggings and an oversized shirt.”

“Oh god, save us.”

“Imagine how Thor will react to whatever ridiculousness Steve is probably planning for Thursday.” Sam finished. “And even if we somehow manage to avoid them during that whole mess, what about the aftermath? The smooshy kisses and dopey grins and non stop touchy feely crap? The blushes over literally nothing? The irritating giggles over what they say is an inside joke but is really just a reference to sex? You looking forward to all of that?”

“No, it sounds terrible.” Bruce admitted. “But still--”

“What about the group texts?” Sam interrupted. “What about the days and days of group texts of them teasing each other about which one is limping more, or who got the better dicking down between Tony, Steve and Clint--”

“Aw come on, you don’t gotta say it like that.”

“-- I do gotta say it like that.” he said firmly. “I do gotta say it like that Bruce, because you know it’s going to happen and you’re going to hear about it whether you want to or not. You’ve tried leaving the group chat. You’ve tried changing your phone number. You’ve tried marking all of our numbers as spam so your phone automatically dumps the messages.”

“Yikes, you guys know about that?”

“Definitely.” A sharp nod. “So I guess I’m not so much as asking you to spend Valentines Day with me, as much as I am giving you a way to avoid all that bullshit.”

“Well that seems--” Bruce scratched at the back of his neck. “Seems like it could be alright.”

“We could go to a bromantic breakfast.” Sam offered. “A just-bros-sitting-next-to-each- other-in- the- dark-movie, there’s a bunch of terrible rom-coms and terrible horror films so we could just go from theater to theater all day. A dinner non-date that ends in ice cream and alcohol and terrible late night television until we pass out on the couch. It's a bromantic non date.”

“A bromantic non date?” Bruce repeated. “I could be on board for that. But um maybe we could--” he lowered his voice, mumbled something that made Sam’s eyebrows about fly off his face. “You know?”

“Bruce, you dirty dog!” Sam crowed and punched him in the shoulder, then--- “Shit, sorry I didn’t mean to punch you so hard.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Bruce rubbed at his shoulder gingerly. “Why do you guys do that?”

“When you hang out with Cap and Frosty and assholes like Clint you get used to being punched.”

“That’s why I don’t hang out with you guys.”

“Noted.” Sam nodded. “So. Thursday?”

“Bromantic non date.” Bruce nodded too. “I’m in.”

*********************

#ncts fics #winteriron #thundershield #clintasha #sam wilson #bruce banner #group texting #valentines day #commissions

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amwritingmeta · 6 years

Text

The Players on the Board

Dean - will make a choice, hopefully it’s a rational one tied to his faith in deserving a future… but…

Cas - may be forced into one helluva position… but…

Sam - will most likely get a chance to confront Lucifer once and for all… but…

Jack - will most likely end the season going dark side… but…

AU!Michael - will most likely carry the torch of Big Bad into S14… but…

Rowena - will be instrumental and, most likely, fully powered again… but…

Lucifer - will most likely die

Billie - keeps her hands clean and refuses to get involved… but…

Ketch - may die (for Mary)

Mary - will live, I do believe, at least I hope so. I don’t think her journey’s over… but…

Bobby and the Sunshine Gang - I think they may stick around until we’re a few episodes into next season… but I honestly don’t know. It all depends on how they handle the AU arc. It feels like a dual season that will carry on into the next, unless they make Jack the Big Bad, but I can’t see that happening without Cas going with him and I can’t see Cas going with Jack looking at where the narrative has positioned all the players so… yeah… it’s all very curious… and all very much spec!

Honestly, this post is mostly me rambling and should probably possibly not be taken too seriously. I’ll be so curious to see if I land even in the ballpark. I’m much more happy if I land in the ballpark emotionally with the characters, rather than plot wise, because the plot has a billion possibilities in it!

Truth be told, I wrote this wanting to stay up and watch the episode live, but after a week in Rome and a day of work I’m crashing now. Be back bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow. So sorry about the quiet during JiB! I’ll post about that tomorrow!! You’re all awesome and ILY. Niiiiight. See you on the other side. Don’t read my ramblings. I’m just saving them for posterity!

Let’s Talk Scenarios

1. Jack Goes Dark Side

Why would he go dark side, when we’ve been shown, all season, how he’s been afraid of this side of himself, how he’s fought to reject it, struggled with what it says about him and what it means that his father is the Devil, and we’ve seen him strive to embrace humanity at every turn?

I mean, to my mind he even fought off this side to himself as an infant, rejecting it unequivocally from the womb and choosing Cas as his protector while burning Dagon to a crisp. Dagon - the demon who embodied the protector chosen for him and sent by his father to corrupt him into spreading suffering across the world. This tells us that Jack’s goodness is the prevalent side.

So, why would he go dark side?

Firstly, let me comment on the “but” in the scenario. (I shan’t make dirty jokes I shan’t)

I always thought that Jack was bound to go dark side at some point because that felt like such a given, right? We’ve all thought that. He has Heaven, Humanity and Hell inside of him, and it’s most likely crucial for him to explore all three sides before he’s able to find the inner balance necessary for him to bring balance everywhere else.

But… in 13x14 Meredith Glynn pitted Jack against Zachariah’s masterful brain twisting ways and Jack saw right through him. My theory was always that he would be corrupted by outside influences, because it has felt like a recurring theme and would tie in with the nature/nurture commentary as well, and Meredith’s use of Isaiah spoke to me of how, perhaps, Jack wasn’t destined for this type of corruption after all.

He withstood it and came out stronger for it, escaping with Mary and ending up saving lives. Of course, he also finished the episode dressing himself in the lessons he’d been taught by his ultimate father figures - Dean and Sam - coming to the wrongful conclusion that it’s on him to kill Michael.

Using his powers the way Cas is using them now, as a weapon, has a wholly bad connotation to it.

Mary’s comments in 13x22 made me pause as well.

Mary: Jack isn’t going to the dark side. He’ll see Lucifer’s true nature. And he’ll see it through his own eyes - not yours.

God damn it I could meta this moment into infinity with the let go of your need for control, Dean, or shit will happen.

And here’s the shitty thing that could very well happen: Dean killing Lucifer for Sam.

They’ve foreshadowed it, especially with Dean’s prolonged look at Lucifer before walking through the rift in 13x20. And now Lucifer has a hold over Sam by saving Sam’s life. And Dean sees Lucifer as a threat to Jack, which means a threat to everything, and now Lucifer is on cahoots with Michael… yeah, bad shit all around.

If Dean kills Lucifer out of need for control, then it’s possible he’ll lose any control he might’ve had over Jack, any influence whatsoever, and the fact that he robs Jack of the chance to see Lucifer through his own eyes - not through Dean’s - might bring about one hell of a narrative punishment. Dean is Jack’s foremost father figure. Not Sam, nor Cas. Sam is the supportive uncle and Cas has been too absent to actually teach lessons. Jack takes after Dean’s shown behaviour and most of Dean’s shown behaviour has been grief-laden toxic masculinity.

He’s let that go now, but has Jack really had a chance to see it? Not yet. And being included and accepted by Dean this late in the game, and possibly having such a huge choice taken from him when it comes to getting to know his father and make up his own mind about him and what role he should play in his life, it’s possible this would serve to cause an emotional reaction in Jack so great that he begins to reject his humanity and embrace his darker side, simply in order to learn who he truly is and find some other way into that choice.

I don’t know, though. I doubt they’d want to make Jack the new Big Bad, because the Big Bad shouldn’t make people cry and tear their hair that they’re doing bad things. The season Big Bad should pose a real threat and we should want to watch them go down in flames - which can then be flipped, as it was with Amara. Anyway, Jack going dark side would probably not last longer than the dark arcs Cas (Godstiel) or Dean (Deanmon), or they’ll make it a reflection of Sam’s exploration of his powers, but in that case it would make more sense to keep Jack with TFW and have him be a gun under the table.

If he goes proper dark and takes off, I’m unsure if that arc could last more than a handful of episodes (though anything’s possible) and we also have a Dark Horse in this new version of Dean on the horizon and I wonder if they’d want to pile it all on.

2. Cas - the Weapon or the Shield

I mean, he is both - they all are - but there’s a predominant leaning towards the weapon lately, when all season he’s been describing himself as the shield.

How many times has he said that he promised Kelly to protect her son? (many many times)

That could be as the weapon, but protection, to me, sounds more like the wall standing between you and the bullet. He didn’t start dressing himself as the weapon, not properly, until after Jack went into the AU. And now we’ve landed in the blue glow of his angel eyes being associated with pain, torture and suffering.

This is possibly a fantastic foreshadowing for Dean’s eyes glowing blue with angel grace at the end of the episode (because at JiB Jensen spoiled the fact that the image of this other version of Dean will most likely be the final one when he told us that he hasn’t actually played this other version yet)

Now, I’ve written a meta post on 13x19 that has to do with Cas and Choice.

Is it plausible that a situation arises where Cas says he can’t stay and Dean steps in with his words going Hell to the Yes, you Can and you Will, dumbass.

Yeah, it’s plausible.

It seems imperative that Cas stops with the glow-y eyes already, or I fear he’ll start losing himself. It’s also quite beautiful in the sense that he clearly can’t see any other way of existing than this, because how can he rid himself of his grace when Heaven is failing? So it’s almost as if he’s resigned himself to the role he once assigned himself at this point - that of the weapon and believing it’s his only purpose. It’s made a point of in dialogue between him and torture!Cas in the AU, when Cas agrees that they’re the same. *screaming ghost face emoji*

YOU ARE NOT THE SAME AT ALL, CASTIEL!!

And he doesn’t look like he fully agrees, he doesn’t look accepting of this fact - he looks conflicted once he’s stabbed this alternate version of himself. So where does that leave his arc in the finale? What does he need as we push forward? Where’s he at, you might ask?

Well, he needs perspective. He needs to understand he’s wanted for something other than his powers. He needs a way to tap fully into that humanity that’s just beneath the surface now… But this might be something they want to use and build on for S14, you know? Use how Cas’ inner conflict grows bigger and bigger until he’s forced to make a choice for himself.

Heaven will need to be saved for him to actually make that choice, of course, because there’s no way in Heaven or on Earth that Cas will become human if it threatens humanity. And humanity is under threat from Heaven failing and Cas’ grace is one of a few batteries powering it and yes, I do believe this to be true, even if I’m not 100% sure I trust Naomi’s reformation.

There’s also the aspect of how Dean needs to use his goddamn words already. And since we got the codependency focus in the beauty of 13x21 I also do believe there’s a good chance we’ll get a Dean and Cas focused scene in this one. So will Cas finally begin to feel wants through Dean telling him that he is, and I mean properly expressing it, not in a “you’re our brother” way, but haltingly telling Cas what losing him actually did to him, or some such thing.

I’m very curious and hopeful that we’ll get something like this, BUT judging by the promo, Dean makes a TFW speech of facing whatever comes together, which, hey, I’ll take it, but it’s not the same. It’s not the release Dean needs. (and we need) :P

And then we have Dean’s attitude in that promo, with Dean wanting and believing that they can have a future… *goose bumps* *goose bumps all over* Because that’s the final fucking stage, guys. He’s not just cusping anymore. It’s quite possible he’s standing on that peak and is about to race down it and spread his arms and scream FREEEEEEDOOOOOOOOM.

I mean, there will still be road blocks and obstacles and internal battles to fight. Just not the same ones we’ve been watching for 13 seasons. Shift in dynamics. Balls out. All the way. Yes please and thank you.

3. Dean Making a Choice

So, I’ve written a bit about this already and said that my greatest hope for Dean with whatever situation he’s about to face is that he steps into it not frantic and desperate to save everyone else, but calm and trusting that everything will be alright in the end, because he has faith and because he now wants a future, and he can’t believe that he would be put in this situation to turn out the lights, he feels in his bones that it’s to switch them on.

He’s not facing down this threat in order to go out in a blaze of glory - he’s facing it to ensure he has a future to come back to.

That’s my biggest hope for him, so the fact that we now have a scene where he’s expressing hope for the future is pretty… yeah. It’s pretty as fuck.

I mean, hope for the future is a huge, huge bold sign that Dean is beginning to find self-worth. Do you know what that means for the shift in dynamics? Do you know what this means for the love story? *can’t sit still in my chair* I’ll talk more about this in another few paragraphs (or many more) (I don’t know) (fingers decide)

I would love for Dean to say yes to Michael, but the thing is… it’s so EARLY. We’re at the possible probable midpoint of a dual seasonal arc.

Well, what does Dean need? Truly?

a) He needs to let go of his need for control. Now, honestly, if we do get Dean saying yes to Michael, and Michael is in the guise of young John (since Matt Cohen is rumoured to be guest starring), then we get Dean granting admittance to one of the most formidable representatives of toxic masculinity that we’ve ever had on the show, and he looks like the YOUNG version of Dean’s father, the uncorrupted, loving, whole man who was supposed to raise Dean, rather than the broken and haunted drunk that ended up doing such a poor job of it for the most part, then imagine THAT visual manifestation of how Dean has moved on from the toxic masculinity ideal and is now embracing the truth of his father’s individuality.

Like DAMN.

But that’s detail spec and one should never really do that. (oh well fuck it) (it’d just be a cool moment)

Letting go of his need for control peters into everything and affects the codependency positively. In 13x22 this has been set up, with Sam stepping up to the plate, speaking over Dean and taking charge, and Dean pretty much being ok with it. He’s allowing Sam to grow the fuck up. It’s beautiful!!

b) He needs to speak the fuck up after a season of half-truths, stumbling on his words or keeping things completely unspoken. I mean, that’s what we all think. Right? Right. And what needs to happen before he can use his words? He needs to feel trust - in himself. And what shows that he’s beginning to trust in himself? The fact that he’s looking to the goddamn future, that’s what!

He’s not expecting to die. He doesn’t want to die. He thinks he deserves a damn BEACH HOLIDAY. *screams victory into the void* *it echoes forever*

How does he need to use his words? Well. I think he’s showing Sam that he trusts him to have his back, and to take care of himself, but it’s possible the codependency needs him to verbalise this.

However, we have the setup in 13x21 that dealt with Sam’s death and Dean’s reaction to it. Which was to reluctantly make the tactical decision to listen to Cas that it was too late to save Sam and they had to keep going in order to save the other people in their care and get to Jack and Mary, fulfil the mission…

So where might he need to use his words…

Okay, before I get into Destiel, because as much as I kind of don’t want to even speculate, I have some speculation after going through all these notes today, but before that, let’s talk about Sam.

4. Sam and Lucifer and stuff

Is Sam meant to kill Lucifer? Well, revenge is a savage beast that leaves no satisfaction, and we have a visual narrative underlining of that through Gabriel’s fallen expression after he’s assured Sam he feels awesome having killed everyone on his list. The revenge quest of 13x20 is stupid. That’s the whole point of that narrative - to point out the stupidity and futility of indulging in that feeling of more wrongs somehow righting a wrong done to you.

You can’t heal your wounds by inflicting wounds or a killing blow - you heal your wounds by letting go of all that anger and hatred and moving on from it. Forgiveness and understanding is a balm for the soul.

Would Sam take a shot at Lucifer if given the chance, though? Yes, he would. So… It’s possible this chance presents itself in the finale, and if Lucifer does die… that’s another archangel gone. Stakes continuously raised for how exactly to save Heaven, eh?

If Sam does get a chance to kill Lucifer, I almost wish he’ll step down. That he’ll realise that he is in control of the situation, of himself, of his own choices, and he doesn’t have to fear himself and what he’s capable of anymore. He won’t lose control. He’s all grown up now - he doesn’t need his father figure to guide him. He needs to let go of Dean. (I mean, obviously he’ll need to save Dean from whatever the fuck is headed his way but you know) (symbolically Sam needs to push Dean away and dare strike out on his own)

Sam should lead.

And the fact that the bunker is now full of seasoned hunters/soldiers is a fantastic position to put him in, wholly enabling the born leader that he truly is. And, by the by, when I say lead I don’t mean burst through doors with a weapon, I mean he should be at the hub of communication, he should be in the bunker running logistics and doing research, he should fucking MoL, shouldn’t he?

Yes. He. Should.

And perhaps now, being put in this position, the lights will start flicking on in that stubborn head of his and he’ll begin to see what the bunker could be, what it was always meant to be. God, it’d be so gorgeous. I want him to hunt down more legacies, damnit!! Build a network, create a MoL chapter that can do things the way things were always meant to be done.

Come on, Sammy!

5. Billie and the Cosmics

Cosmic consequences, cosmic fate and something else cosmic, or several other things cosmic this season. The word “cosmic” has come up on more than one occasion and, usually, it seems linked to Billie. Well, the cosmic fate was linked to the love spell, which is linked to Rowena, and now Rowena and Billie have been in the same room.

Anyway.

What if it isn’t Michael. What if Lucifer and AU!Michael’s tampering with the fabric of the universe causes rifts to open and something truly, truly bad to come through, the way that was foreshadowed in 13x17? But then again, what exactly did Billie mean when she told Dean “See you again soon”?

I have no fucking clue. GAH.

6. The Greatest Love Story Ever Told

I’m not expecting any payout in the finale on all the foreshadowing and plants they’ve given us throughout the season, let me make that perfectly clears, my dears.

But here’s the thing.

They are separating these men again. We know they are. They’ve told us this is happening. Dean is going to not be Dean and, looking at where we’re at narratively, it’s going to leave Cas pretty much as devastated as it left Dean, with the exception that Cas will not deal with dead!Dean, he’ll deal with possessed!Dean.

Well, presumably anyway.

See, I wouldn’t even consider this if it weren’t for Dean’s position in his progression, which was made clear to us in the promo for 13x23 by how he wants a future for himself, how he’s come so far as to plan what he’d do with it, if they could actually change things and get rid of all the bad in the world through Jack.

Which I doubt they will. Because that’s Utopia. And I don’t think Jack is here to bring that type of balance. But he WILL bring back the balance of the first seasons. At least how I see it. The monsters deserve a chance too. I don’t think you can just eradicate whole species and think this promotes balance. But working together, working proactively - yeah, that’d work. And having teams of hunters working together with MoL chapters would also mean that some people could take a vacation and know that everything’s under fucking control. It’s not all on them all the time.

So, point —>

Dean sees a future for himself. He’s in a position where I can actually, emotionally, see him think “fuck this”, and kissing Cas, because what Dean’s needed, more than anything, is to believe himself worthy of Cas’ love and affections, and Dean is pretty much there now, or so the promo says.

And, the thing is, Cas is in a place where he more or less needs emotional intervention. Because he’s in Heavenly soldier default angel mode and he’s not drinking the beers and he’s not a part of the trio the way he should be. Because he’s removed from them, even after everything, and he is allowing himself to be, not understanding how to break through.

We’ve kept being shown him frowning at Dean’s innuendo. The only innuendo we’ve gotten from Cas is that “epically” and even that could’ve been meant as something innocent enough. Cas isn’t quite there to make the move himself. But Dean…

Yeah, it would be intriguing af if they give us a kiss or even more this episode, because it pushes the shift in dynamics to the forefront and lets the GA know what’s what. It also gives a fresh tinge to the separation, because they’ll be struggling to get back to each other from two sides. They’ll be lovers pointedly wanting to reunite. It’ll be new to watch and will lend completely new subtext and it would be so gorgeous.

If they have them come together in a passionate tangle of limbs without actually resolving anything between them before Dean says yes/is possessed/whatever he’s about to do/is about to happen to him, then we get the love story smacked in the face of the GA, while the tension remains because there’s still been no actual declarations (and you know you gotta have those)…

But yeah. If they’re going for another five seasons I’m not sure. Might be I’ll end up having to film myself eating an over-priced and highly delectable hat here, people. :P

I do not expect Destiel to become text in the finale. It just makes a tiny speck of sense that it could. Either way, there’s been a hella lot of fun subtext to read into this season! *aw yiss*

#spn 13x23 #wild speculation #this WILL need an edit #I know it #I'm too tired and there's no point posting this tomorrow morning so #posting it I ams #xx

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failaise · 7 years

Text

like real people do p.3 | jeon jungkook

summary: the feelings for your friends with benefits are changing. months pass, and you feel your gut telling you that you want more. you’re just not sure if he feels the same.

college student!reader, friends with benefits!jungkook

piece 1, piece 2, piece 3

this component is based off 6LACK’s ‘Prblms’

The night was cold enough that Jungkook eventually decided to run.

Having rushed out the front door without so much as a goodbye, his forgotten coat hardly lingered in the back of his mind. Teeth chattering and toes nearly frozen, Jungkook fell into a light jog in an effort to keep warm and to get to your dorm faster. The light poles were dim and cast a long-legged shadow of himself against the sidewalk, each stride harder than the last, each one more eager. His eyes burned with the memory of what you had said, replaying each syllable over and over again. He imagined the different ways you could’ve said it, how your face could’ve looked when you sent it. He wondered if it even mattered to you, or if getting rid of him was as easy as throwing out the trash.

Jungkook couldn’t remember you talking to anyone else. Your phone never lit up with messages from anyone other than your manager or Somi, and he never saw anyone lingering around you during classroom hours. Your focus was always him when he was by.

His stomach hurt. He felt like he’d throw up any second now, or that his throat would tighten until he couldn’t breathe anymore. His lungs burned from the cold air he inhaled, and his eyes stung with each short blink forced by the breeze. It seemed like years until he saw the light of your dorm come into view, a sight that used to be cathartic now his only stressor. Swallowing, he jogged to the front door and let himself in, suddenly enveloped in warmth and the scent of laundry.

Jungkook never once stopped running. When he got to your door, he paused, halting with one fist raised to the door. The image of you on the other side, maybe crying or maybe unbothered- both of them made his stomach ache. After the moment of tight lungs passed he finally ratted on the door with his knuckles, nervously licking his lips and pushing his hair behind his head.

Footsteps pitter-pattered on the other side of the door. He listened as they walked up to him, and glanced through the peephole to see who was there. Jungkook looked down at it and ran his fingers through his hair. “_____? Can you let me in?” There was silence, and not a move was made on either side off the door. “Please?”

Still silence.

Jungkook forced out a breath of exasperation, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. He pressed his hand against the door and flattened his palm, tapping it with his fingertips. He imagined your hand on the other side, pressing back.

“_____-ah? L-Look... I don’t know what I did, but... but I can make it up to you,” Jungkook dropped his forehead against the door and leaned inwards. Some part of him wished he could walk right through that god damn door and hug you, just to feel your bones against him. “______-ah, please-”

The door handle clicked, unlocked, and turned.

“Jeon Jungkook,” she forced a tight-lipped, bitter smile.

Jungkook stared at her, part of him disappointed to see who answered. “Where is she?”

Somi rolled her eyes and looked outside in the hall to see if anyone was looking. Jungkook watched her, a mixture of emotions and all of them having to do with you. Pursing her lips, Somi assessed him and his lightening skin as a result of the cold, the slight chatter of his teeth, and sighed. “Come on.”

She reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. With a hard yank, Jungkook came stumbling into the apartment, startled by the second influx of warmth that encased him.

“What do you want?” Somi demanded, arms folded over her chest and eyes cold as glass.

“Where did she go? Where is she?” Jungkook looked past her to see if he could catch a glimpse of you, but Somi’s death grip on his forearm kept him in place.

“She left a while ago,” Somi declared. “I don’t know where she went. She grabbed her bag and left.”

Jungkook jerked his arm out of Somi’s grasp and used it to pinch the bridge of his nose. He felt hot, overheating, like at any moment he might succumb to death by fire. Wiping his brow, he glanced in the direction of your bedroom, then back to Somi. “Do you have any idea where she could’ve gone?”

“No, asshole,” Somi glared at him, “I don’t. Do you?”

Jungkook blinked. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend, or something?” Somi rolled her eyes again, teeth ground together. “Shouldn’t you be off with some dumb blonde bitch fucking, or something? Isn’t that all you’re good for?”

Blonde... bitch? The only blonde he could think of was Minjoo, but what was Somi even talking about? He’d been dodging the subject of her for fear of hurting her feelings, but you’d been acting so weird lately. He wasn’t sure what he should do. Give up Minjoo for someone who might not feel the same? Give up you for a girl who begs to fuck him every day of the week?

“Yeah, idiot,” Somi dug through her back pocket. She searched for something while Jungkook watched, eyes wide in confusion and mouth suddenly gone dry. She turned it around and held the screen up to his face. “We know you’re dating Minjoo, so why even come here?”

The picture was of himself, staring down into his latte. He remembered that moment, trying to figure out why the flower you painted with cream was suddenly so evil, glaring up at him. The caption read “everyone look how handsome my man is”, paired with a pink heart emoji. Being called Minjoo’s man made him sick to his stomach, but the idea of you seeing this, thinking he’d been lying to you, hurt more.

“She... She posted that?” Jungkook blinked, delicately trying to reach for the phone. Somi locked it and shoved it back in her pocket.

She stared at him. “You didn’t know?”

Jungkook scoffed, pushing himself up against the wall. He raked his fingers through his damp hair, tugging on it tightly, wondering why the hell she would do that. Suddenly he was going through all his memories with her, trying to piece together when she would’ve thought the two of you were dating. He was reminded of the day at the coffee shop, your cold eyes. The time in your bed when he got texts from her. That time in the library.

You thought he was dating her.

“I fucked u-”

“Yeah,” Somi sighed, closing her eyes. “You did.”

“What can I do?” Jungkook chewed on the bottom of his lip, voice earnest and hopeful.

Somi straightened up. She figured she could give him the benefit of the doubt, if nothing else.

“Explain everything to me. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Every blow to your face was another numbing thump, a soft tap on a bruise. Your head snapped to the side, then to the other, though you’d gone cold with pain a long time ago. Leaned up against the sparring mat, you listened to the sound of a whistle signal for your partner to get off, to allow you to recoup.

It wasn’t that you were doing this because of Jungkook. Sure, Jungkook caused it, but you weren’t some type of Bella Swan. You weren’t going to lock yourself away. You were going to do what you knew best, regress into a stage of life where the only romance issues you had were with Fanfictions and the only thing you had to worry about was getting your ass completely handed to you on the mat.

You blinked, staring blankly across at the man who was meant to be your opponent. He was pacing back and forth, readjusting the strap around the gloves he wore. He wasn’t watching you anymore because he didn’t see you as a threat. He must’ve picked up on the way you allowed him to hit you, with little defensive moves to stop him. You were an easy target- young, hurt, trying to forget.

You blinked again, but suddenly it wasn’t the man pacing before you, but another. A short, stocky build jumped to a tall, lean one, stepping across the mat with long, calculated strides. You watched the way his eyes changed to that homely shade of brown, dazzling in the dim lights. Now he was watching you, through the tops of his lids with lips twitching upwards into the sleepy smile he’d always given you in the morning.

“Oh,” you muttered to yourself as you straightened up, cracking your knuckles in your palm, “fuck you.”

The short man was back now, but it was too late for him.

You were already charging at Jungkook with guns blazing.

“She’s not answering,” Somi heaved, defeated on the love sofa of her apartment’s living room. Legs crossed and a pizza slice in hand, she took another greasy bite and chewed, staring angrily down at her phone. Across the couch was Jungkook, who might’ve now been on his thirtieth phone call that evening.

“You haven’t seen her?” He asked Minjae, a student in one of his health classes. “Are you sure?”

On the other end, Minjae suggested that she might’ve been somewhere in Seoul, or that she could have left the city altogether. The idea that this event might’ve driven her out of her own home and comfort made him sick. With a final thanks, Jungkook locked his phone and tossed it aside his thigh in exasperation.

He ran his hands through his hair and tugged, throwing his head back against the sofa.

“She’ll come back,” Somi sighed. “We have finals next month anyway. Worst comes to worst, we wait a month.”

“I’m not waiting a fucking month,” Jungkook pushed himself off the couch, angrily shoving his feet back into his shoes. Somi watched, surprised at his sudden movements as he hurried to the front door.

“Where’re you going?” Somi demanded, rising to her feet.

Jungkook didn’t even spare a glance at her over his shoulder. “Wherever I can look,” he tugged his hoodie down and sighed. “The forecast said it might rain tonight. If she’s not indoors, she can catch a cold, or worse.”

“She’s strong,” Somi declared, though half of her wanted to run out with him.

“Don’t care,” Jungkook reached for the door handle. In half a second, Somi allowed that half of her to take control, rushing towards him.

“Fine. Then I’m coming with.”

This time, Jungkook glanced down at her. Somi squared her chin and glared at him, snatching her jacket off the hook.

“What?” Somi snapped. “She’s my best friend. Plus, you’re the one who sent her into this.” Huffing, she yanked open the front door and proudly marched out, leaving Jungkook to stare at his feet. It was his fault. Somi was right. He sent you running- it was his fault.

But it was someone else’s, too.

“Wait,” Jungkook stopped in the middle of the dorm hallway, lips curling inwards and a muscle in his jaw flexing. Somi turned around to look at him, realization dawning on her. A sinister smirk twitched at the edges of her mouth.

“Let’s go get that bitch.”

The hotel room seemed superbly empty.

And alone.

You wondered why they would paint the walls such a dull shade of orange, or why the stain on the carpet looked suspiciously like blood. Generic paintings hung by the bathroom, which was not much more supreme. The bed was all springs beneath your sore limbs, squeaking with each movement you made to rest.

All you heard was silence.

Maybe you were being dramatic. You could go home, you thought. Face your problems for once instead of running away to cope. Why was it that you couldn’t cope like most people? Why couldn’t you stay in your dorm, waiting for Jungkook to come running, as though he hadn’t made you his second option in the past week? Why was your method of coping a fist to your face and your knuckles in another?

Your phone had been off for the past few hours or so, though the temptation to turn it on was almost suffocating. A part of you, the addicted part, wanted to go on Twitter and see the latest funny posts- just so you could feel the ache of a smile. The other part was reminded that it was social media that led you to feeling this way. The caption replayed in your mind and in that silence, all you could hear were the words telling you that you’d been wrong to feel that way all along.

Why weren’t you good enough? It didn’t come as a surprise that you asked yourself this question often. You thought you were used to being let down, to being disappointed. Yet now, this ache that you felt in your chest and the tightness of your stomach- this painful feeling of heartbreak was one you hadn’t felt since adolescence.

You were pretty enough. Symmetrical enough to pass for ordinary, though as you stared at your bruised reflection across the empty hotel room you couldn’t help but think that there was nothing spectacularly special about your features. Hair was okay, eyes were detailed enough. Well, the one eye that wasn’t coming down from swelling, at least. Though, the longer you stared the more it seemed like your face wasn’t yours, and you closed your good eye shut tight to avoid seeing the stranger in that forsaken mirror.

You wished you hadn’t caught feelings for a boy in college. Every story you read warned you, but the hope in your heart had led you to believe that maybe, just maybe, Jungkook would feel the same. The mornings the two of you spent together warmed your core and you couldn’t help that. You couldn’t help how hopelessly you’d fallen for him, and you wished that you’d felt cold in his memories, but your lips still threatened a smile at the thought of him.

A Morning Never Forgotten

“Sleepy head..”

A voice was singing above your face, yet your body knew that it was far too early to be up already. Helplessly tugging your blanket over your face, you managed to roll over, back to whoever was pestering you, and snuggled into the warmth and scent of the shirt you wore. Unexpectedly, the blanket was pushed closer onto you, tucked in around your shoulders by careful, hesitant fingers.

“Hey,” that same voice whispered again, though this time it seemed less determined to wake you, and more as if it were speaking to the air. You felt two hands press down against your thighs, laying you flat against the mattress. A pair of sleepy eyes began to flutter open, and chapped lips yawned a nine-hour nap into the room.

Jungkook hovered beside you, leaned up against the headboard with one shoulder and the other angled towards you. His disheveled head hung over yours, his own sleepy eyes sparkling down at you. A slow, relaxed smile spread across his face at the sight of your consciousness and he reached out to push strands of your hair back onto the pillow.

You probably had three chins at that point in time. And granted, you liked to snore, so a dried trail of drool was definitely stuck on the side of your jaw. You couldn’t remember how much of your makeup you took off the night before, or how much melted off onto the sheets, but some part of you were certain that you had dark circles.

For whatever reason, Jungkook didn’t mind. In fact, he admired the speckles of mascara on your cheekbones, and the rubbed side of your left eyebrow against the pillow case. Your disheveled, knotted hair wasn’t off-putting, but instead inviting, and he thought for a moment he could sit there and untangle it for hours, even if he couldn’t tangle it again. There was something about the way your tired eyes were lighter in the morning, something about the way they sparkled in the streams of sunlight barely managing to escape through the closed curtains.

“Want some water?” Jungkook offered, trying to hide his amused smile.

You blinked slowly and yawned again, tiredly rubbing at your eyes. “Please?”

Chuckling lowly, Jungkook reached over to grab a half-drunk bottle off the nightstand. You watched how the muscles in his arm flexed as he leaned over your figure, and admired the tiny bruise just above his collarbone- your unintentional handiwork.

“What?”

Your gaze darted from his bicep to his eyes, which were squinted mischievously.

“See something you like?” Jungkook teased, settling down beside you to hand you the water. You scoffed and took it, sitting up straight to drink from the bottle. Jungkook watched the way your jaw flexed- an action subtle, that reminded him of the way you’d looked last night, staring up at him in the dim lights with your lips perfectly wrapped around-

“See something you like?” You swallowed your last gulp and brushed your fingers through your hair, fighting your sideways grin at the man beside you.

Jungkook snatched the bottle from your hands and slammed it down onto the nightstand. You watched him, eyebrows raised in surprise, though they instantly lowered the moment his fingers cupped your jaw and pulled you in close. Warmth flooded your chest cavity, filling you up from head to toe and burning your cheeks a delightful shade. Something inside you changed that morning, that one blissful time the two of you were graciously allowed to spend alone. You weren’t sure what it was at the time, but you knew that this feeling, this inescapable emotion of pure home wouldn’t leave quite so easily.

As for Jungkook, part of him already knew what this feeling was.

“Minjoo!”

Three hard knocks banged on Kim Minjoo’s door, resounding throughout the otherwise quiet living room. Startled, Minjoo looked up from her textbook, glanced at her phone screen, lit up with ignored messages, then to the door.

Who could be visiting her at this hour?

Confused, she pushed herself back from the small, round table and rose to her feet, treading hesitantly towards the front door. Rising to her tiptoes, Minjoo brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, and looked through the peephole.

Big brown eyes stared back at her. Jeon Jungkook looked utterly disheveled, what with his messed locks of hair and panic on his face. Beside him, Minjoo spotted someone she recognized, though she couldn’t recall a name. It was the brown-haired girl with the one who worked at the coffee shop, and for a moment she wondered what the two of them could’ve possibly needed from her.

“...Hello?” Minjoo pulled the door back and stared at the both of them curiously. Her gaze lingered on Jungkook, the more familiar of the two, and a smile twitched at her lips.

“Minjoo,” Jungkook sighed, running his fingers through his hair exasperatedly, “we need to talk.”

She stepped back, glancing at the hallway to see if there were any other people watching. “Come in.”

“Alright, look, bitch,” the brown-haired girl came barging through the door before Minjoo could even get the words out. Dragging mud underneath her boots, the girl marched right into the living room and folded her arms stubbornly.

“Woah,” Jungkook eyed the stranger, “chill.”

She glared back at him.

Minjoo watched the interaction with pursed lips. “Excuse me?”

“Look,” Jungkook paced around the living room, looking about as stressed out as he’d ever been. Minjoo’s expression filled with worry at the sight of him. She stepped towards the man to comfort him, though Jungkook flinched, taking a step back from her outstretched hand. “You posted a picture of me on Twitter. You called me... ‘your man’.”

Minjoo blinked. “And?”

The girl snorted. “What do you mean ‘and’? You and Jungkook aren’t dating.”

Minjoo looked over at Jungkook, eyebrows furrowed down so far her eyes became shadows. “What’s your problem with me posting things of us, Jungkook?”

“We’re not-” Jungkook frustratedly paced back towards Minjoo, towering over her height. His jaw clenched angrily. “We’re not dating, Minjoo. And someone I care about very, very much saw that picture.”

The realization began to dawn on Minjoo. She remembered seeing him and the girl who works at the coffee shop together after class sometimes, but their laughter always seemed friendly. Looking back on it now, maybe Jungkook was looking at her in the way Minjoo had convinced herself he wasn’t. She remembered seeing the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up at the sound of his name being called from that girl’s lips, and the way they fell onto his coffee cup, as if it had burned right through his skin.

“The girl,” Minjoo assumed, looking up at him, “from the coffee shop.”

“Her name is ______,” the stranger declared suddenly, glaring at Minjoo over the coffee table.

“Yes,” Jungkook sighed. He couldn’t meet Minjoo’s eyes. Had he led her on this whole time? Had he ever done anything to make her think he felt something close to love for her?

“You love her?” Minjoo tilted her head. While her words were smooth, calculated, her heart felt as if it might snap, and her eyes burned more than they ever had without sleep.

Jungkook froze, startled by the sudden question. “Excuse me?”

Minjoo laughed bitterly. Her glare was piercing when she looked back at him, arms folded over her chest and bottom lip threatening to quiver. “I said, do. You. Love. Her?”

The question had taken aback Jungkook. He’d never been asked so straightforward how he felt about someone, not ever. For some reason, the word “love” made his heart beat right out of his chest, in some cartoonish fashion he prayed no one could see. That single word had the ability to bring him back to memories he had with you, the ones in the morning, particularly the one after a long night of carnival games. The way your smile sparkled in the fairy lights flipped on a switch within him.

He didn’t have a word for it then, but he supposed “love” might be able to capture the feelings he felt for you.

“Yes.”

Minjoo blinked, eyes falling to her feet. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. How many people had seen the photo she posted? For how long had she led herself on to believe Jeon Jungkook might actually feel something for her, too?

“I’ll take it down,” she stepped back from him, spinning on her heel to head for her cell phone. “I got the wrong impression. I’m sorry.”

The stranger seemed confused at Minjoo’s actions. Had she doubted her intentions? Her feelings? Had Minjoo portrayed herself as such an ass that it was a shock to that girl that she had truly felt something for the idiot boy standing in her living room?

Jungkook chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Have you... did you see _____ earlier at all?”

Minjoo glanced at him over her shoulder. She debated on telling him the truth- that she’d seen the girl heading downtown with a dufflebag and a black eye. Or that she knew that there was only one hotel she could be staying at that was cheap and effective- benefits of being a psychology major.

Minjoo squared her jaw and looked at the two of them. “No idea.”

It was beginning to rain.

Jungkook looked up at the sky angrily, pulling his hood up over his head to keep his hair from becoming wet locks in his eyes. Beside him, Somi searched quickly on her phone, looking for any hotel in the area that was cheap.

“Dammit, ______,” Jungkook cursed, pacing worriedly in the courtyard. Seated on the bench, Somi glanced up at him. She could see that there was genuine concern on his face. She wished that you would just answer your fucking phone, just to tell her that you were okay- she deserved more than to be ignored.

Jungkook heart was pounding so fast he thought it might implode. He kept picturing you, somewhere out in the rain, cold and alone and teeth-chattering. The image was enough to send his body into fight or flight mode, activating all of his senses to start running, to start frantically searching for you.

Somewhere a couple miles away, you stared at the rain pitter-pattering on the window of your room, ignoring the incessant buzzing of your phone on the pillowcase.

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mostleemorethansmut · 7 years

Text

When Jason’s away Ch3: "Could you stop..." (Stephew)

Chapter 1: “Of course I’m not Jealous”

Chapter 2: “Wait, we’re streaming?”

"Comprehensible" is not the word for the chat. "Schizophrenic" might be a better word. The stream began; nothing unusual there. There was a few missed 'first's, a couple bots, and then actual people flowed into the chat. Then the chat took a breath to breathe. Sitting on the paused screen was a simple message.

"Guys, Stephanie and Matt were making out yesterday on the stream."

Someone was fast on the fingers, because, before anyone else could respond, "That B*tch" appeared in the chat; setting the tone for the rest of the stream. By the time MatPat's smiling face had appeared on the stream, the chat had already come up with a character sheet of traits for Stephanie: loser, whiny, inept, b*tchy, bad at video games, gold digger, terrible actress with fake reactions, ugly, stupid, pathetic, fat, and a snooze.

The reactions got even worse as the day continued. If yesterday's chat had been filled with happy-go-lucky people, today was stuffed with cynics.

Descriptions of torturous actions came through the actions. Death threats were the kind ones. Some of them threatened to shoot her with a machine gun and work their way from the feet up. There were other threats made, but I'm afraid I can't explain those without providing a trigger warning. The nicer ones just said that she was blackmailing Matthew. The phrases "Steph's a sl*t" and "she's a wh***e" were tossed around in the chat so often, that typing it in would make Youtube pop up a message saying "A lot of people already said this. How about trying something else?"

Soon enough someone on twitter mentioned, "seriously, can we mention how awful Stephanie is?" Then it was off to the races. A race of insults and discouraging comments, but a race nonetheless. A bunch of vulgar messages began populating #GTLive. Then someone posted a picture of Matt sitting out to a scratched out Steph. This began people photoshopping Youtubers on the couch with MatPat. Then the bar reached it's highest point when someone sent in a sketch of Steph's head being torn off.

When Stephanie called out, "I'm going into the chat," the only positive message was from NerdyGirl Maria of: "don't." Unfortunately the one reminder of good things was swept away before Stephanie could see it. Instead, Stephanie had to try to ignore all of the threats and curses to find something to read out on the stream.

"Uh," she grimaced, "someone asked 'what are some better youtubers you want on the couch with you?' Ooooh! Shots fired!"

"Better youtubers," pouted Matt, "aren't we enough?"

Stephanie bit her lip and ignored how everyone stated that Stephanie was the one who should be replaced. Matthew, oblivious of the chat, listed off a couple creators he'd love to have on the channel and play games with. Stephanie searched for something good in the chat, but the best that came from the unfocused mess was the phrase "peepachu has fallen."

"Okay," Stephanie encouraged, "the chat's acting up right now, so I'm switching over to Twitter-"

"Already?"

"Already! I'm going to see what's going on in the Twits."

Stephanie didn't see any positive posts over in #GTLive though. Just more curses and threats. Stephanie scrolled through the hashtag, but didn't find anything good on it. The poll today was all about reasons that MatPat kept Stephanie around, none of which featured love or anything silly.

Stephanie gave a concerned look out to the audience, a bit of water forming up in her eyes. "Hey," she gulped, "there's, uh, something I forgot to do. I'll be right back." Ashamed to even exist, Stephanie left the stream. She made her way to the bathroom, closed the door, and began crying like mad.

After a while, Matthew realized that he hadn't checked the chat. "Hey..." he noted, after reading a bit of the chat, "could you stop all of the hate directed at Stephanie? I get it if you hate me. I've been upsetting people for a long time now, I'm used to it. But Stephanie's only ever tried to be kind to everyone. Normally this isn't a thing I'd concern myself with, but it seems unnecessarily excessive today."

The chat didn't care. After a while Matthew got worried about his wife. "She should... be back by now," he commented to everyone. "Listen guys, I'm gonna put the stream on pause for a minute, but we'll be back soon."

Matthew rushed all over the house looking for his wife. "Steph?" he called. The man found the bathroom and pushed open the loose door. Stephanie was sitting on the edge of the bathtub sobbing.

"Stephanie," he gasped, rushing to her side. "What's wrong."

"There..." she sighed. "There were a lot of hate comments today about me. You didn't stop the stream on my account, did you?"

"Steph," Matt shook his head, "I would stop so much more than a stream for you. You're more important than some hate comments on the internet."

Stephanie sighed and rested her head on Matt. "They said-"

"And they were wrong," Matt interrupted. "I love you unquestionably. What they say doesn't matter." He pulled her close to his chest. "Don't let them get to you."

The stream resumed later, and within that time the chat had enough time to think about what it had done. When Steph returned a bit less perky than normal, the GTLive community welcomed her back with lots of smiley emoji, encouragement, and compliments.

#gtlive #Matthew Patrick #matpat #stephanie patrick #stephew #stephpat #cordypat #cordypatrick #angst

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tfw-no-tennis · 4 years

Text

mtmte liveblog issue 12

lets do itttt

I love nick roches art...he draws rodimus so twinky, its a delight

ohhh I forgot abt the non-linear storytelling this issue. bangin

rewinds feet don't even touch the ground hhhhhh tiny

i fuckgin love that panel of skids talking abt briefing vs debriefing, everything both he and rodimus say is just golden

I love hearing tailgate tell completely made up stories from his primal vanguard days, that slaps storytelling-wise

HHHHHH and the fact that tailgate’s happiest memory is movie night at rewinds ;_; gosh

lmao I love whirl kicking down the door

OOOOH and then the time skip!!!!!!!!! I fucking love non-linear stories

jesus, swerves whole face being gone is still disturbing

magnus rlly is a grade A badass. I forgot he has missile shoulders

rodimus saying ‘wham, bam, in the van!’ is my fuckgin favorite hvbsdhhfbhdjkf that's my son right there

cd saying that rewind is allergic to ultraviolet light [eyes emoji] remember how UV light is the only way to see mnemosurgery marks? that little detail must be in there for that ‘cd did mnemosurgery on rewind’ plotline that jro didn't end up doing (thankfully)

I love how mtmte came up with a name for cybertronian marriage :) that's the kind of lore I want baybe!

also rewind and cd hhhhhh they....the og canon gays...confirmed outright in issue 12, which is so early on, considering!...its a beautiful thing. I will talk about the representation in mtmte Extensively throughout my reread since this is, yknow, Just The Beginning when it comes to canon gays - which, again, what a beautiful thing!

actually I'm not done. thinking abt the fact that this issue came out in 2012 and also this is freaking TRANSFORMERS of all things - a long-running franchise whose primary audience is adolescent boys - is extra amazing. augh, the representation! it gets me man.

ok, so, the story! jesus poor cyclonus

chromedome riding on the trex guy hbhsjkfbjshdf dude. I choose to believe that that’s his go-to tactic here bc he’s probably pretty terrible at fighting. idk how canon that is but I just see cd as the type of dude who cant fight well at all, regardless of how many fights he’s actually been in

minibot squad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm really interested in the little we see of general cybertronian attitude towards organics - obvs the decepticons think very little of them, and the autobots generally believe all life is important, but the post-war attitude seems a little more grey and I like that

tailgate!!!!!!!!!!!! I love tailgate SO much. the way he volunteers to defuse a bomb that he has NO idea how to defuse, and the way he lies so quickly and casually? fucking love it

and then he takes all of his bomb disarming cues from rewind, who ALSO isn't a bomb disposal expert by any means - like, tailgate risks both his own life and everyone else’s, just because he wont come clean about his real job - that's some [chefs kiss] characterization right there, I love it

augh I love how he prompts rewind, who of COURSE would have some idea about this as an archivist, for help, and rewind doesn't have any idea that tailgate’s even more clueless than him

but tg, being a generally good person, still tells rewind he should proooooobably stand clear - just in case!!!!!

and then rewind whips out some marriage issues and tg is like ooookay then lol

cyclonus just stabbing people w/his hands....icon

whirl quoting the raw ass line ‘you, who are without mercy, now plead for it?’ nice

swerve. WHY would you point a gun AT YOUR OWN FACE. especially a gun made by BRAINSTORM. why did anybody let swerve handle firearms if this is how he does it. actually, why did anyone give swerve a gun after the thing w/rung. jesus yall. so not only are hipaa laws basically non-existent on cybertron, but gun safety is a rarely-taught thing as well. no wonder yall have issues

so cd must not like cyclonus bc cyclonus was the one who attacked kimia, where cd worked. right?? am I remembering tfwiki correctly? lmao

OOOOF cd saying he was born w/out innermost....I cant remember, is it canon or just extrapolation that that isn't true, and rather it was that cd gave all his innermost energon away w/his previous husbands and whatnot, but he doesn't remember since he forgot about them? either way, oof

all the functionist history stuff is so INTERESTING...I could read an entire comic about just like, pre-war when the functionists were just taking over

tg saying he hates dominus - is that that tweet from jro where somebody asked him why tg said that, and jro basically said ‘he’s petty and jealous’ lol I fucking love it. I love how a character like tailgate, who is very ‘pure’/innocent, has flaws as well

cd has a good point - its hard to kill tfs. so, that makes it extra fucking depressing that cd was seeking out death to that extent

gahhhh the whole rewind-dominus thing is so INTERESTING - I love how vague things are...we only hear about dominus from other people’s perspectives; mainly rewind who clearly thought highly of him, but he’s obviously biased, so it’s hard to tell what dominus was REALLY like, especially with the unavoidable power gap between rewind and dominus...UGH its so interesting

oof, the whole dynamic of cd thinking that rewind cares more about dominus - dominus the ghost, and finding out what happened to him in general - than chromedome himself, is just so Ouch

and the fact that cd thinks that the SOLE reason that rewind is going into battle is so he can look for dominus, but tg makes a good point - rewind is likely also worried abt cd’s safety, especially after dominus disappeared how he did - rewind is probably terrified that the same thing will happen w/cd, bc rewind cares about cd just as much as he cared/cares about dominus, but cd cant see that. AUGHHHH the Complexity!! mannnn

HHHH and like I adore that this first gay couple we get isn't perfect, and that's OKAY bc they’re not The Gay Rep, we get plenty of other gays with their own 3-dimensional relationships....augh bruh it Gets me ok

AHHHHHHHHHH THE OVERLORD STUFF. AUGHHHHHH

who was that talking to cd?? I don't remember....it must've been drift, I think? or maybe brainstorm...

whirl :’) I mean, we find out later that its kinda his fault that rewind was blown up, but still, him putting his own life at risk to save rewind...aww

cyclonus be nice to tg, he’s trying to give you his cool baja blast innermost energon

CYCLONUS BE NICE :( :( :(

we gotta have our slowburn, tho....OOOOUGH

hhhh and then cyclonus like, realizes how much of a dick he’s being and goes back to help tg.... ;_;

cyclonus my man u are lucky that tailgate is so forgiving

and then we have whirl and cyclonus, which is another relationship i LOVE. their development is just...[chefs kiss]

cyc just grabbing tg by the head and YEETING him out the door...lmao

cyclonus’s extremely detailed threat to whirl came at like, the WORST possible time lmao

alternatively, rewind unfortunately asked the worst two people for help at the worst time

also alternatively, tg defusing his first bomb ever based on instructions from another amateur was maybe not the best move

and of course whirl just deciding to lock cyclonus (and rewind whoops) in with a bomb lmao

the requisite to joining the lost light is that you have to be a complete disaster of a person, on some level

cyclonus shielding rewind ;_;

fucking love how they managed to have a cliffhanger w/the bomb going off, despite us seeing exactly what the outcome of that was earlier in this very issue. brilliant

ah, issue 12, the issue that officially canonized the gays and introduced us to a whole bunch of worldbuilding on cybertronian relationships. i love it! plus we have some fascinating backstory and some cool character stuff, and relationship development for tg and cyclonus. awesome stuff!

up next: humansona business! oh fuck yeah

#lj rereads mtmte #The Gays Begin

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blockheadbrands · 5 years

Text

Former Phylos Bioscience Employee Sheds Light on Breeding Controversy

Dick Fitts of High Times Reports:

An ex-employee of Phylos Bioscience comes forward after convincing breeders and growers to trust in the impartiality of the company.

There were perhaps twenty people gathered to hear me speak. For a noon slot, not too bad. All the same, it was my first time giving The Pitch for Phylos Bioscience, and I psyched myself up through a buzzing chest as best I could. Fairbanks Alaska in July is a land without night; having spent the previous evening watching the sun through my hotel window as it barely dipped below the horizon only to creep back up from its catnap an hour later, I was a bit edgier than perhaps I should have been. I stiffened, walked up to the podium, clumsily fiddled with the microphone, had a deep breath and jumped right in. This was my moment, after all. I smiled.

The Script

“Hello, folks! Hope everybody’s had a pleasant morning. My name is Ricky, and I’m here today from Phylos Bioscience.”

Many of you in the grower and breeder communities who are reading this met me under exactly these circumstances. I smiled at you, shook your hand. I answered your questions with austerity and confidence, gained your trust, followed up on the phone, shared laughs and grow stories, tragedies and drug war nightmares. And I even fulfilled your orders for the Phylos Genotype kit, compiling a vast blueprint of your genetics and charting them in the Galaxy, the largest genomic map of cannabis worldwide.

I reassured you time and again, hundreds of times daily: “We are not out to steal your work. We are here to help you protect it, to prove prior art. We’re a different type of cannabis company. We fucking hate Monsanto. We fucking hate Monsanto. We fucking hate…” and on and on.

The Flip

Within the last three weeks, a side of the company has come to public light that calls all of this into question. What I helped build was merely a pawn for a horribly different endgame. I helped build an unparalleled data set of the cannabis genome, paid for by an eager public, to help the company build barriers to entry for anyone else who breeds. I helped establish my employers in a dominant and unfair competitive position for this new venture with an eye towards becoming the industry’s number one acquisition target for Big Ag.

And in the end: I am so, so sorry to you all. I genuinely believed I was doing the right thing. I’ve never believed more deeply in what I was doing, nor been bamboozled so fully. I’d like to speak to this, and if I can’t right my wrongs here at least give some thoughts on how the community can move forward independent and strong.

Phylos Bioscience Starts as Testing Facility for Breeders

In case you’re new to this story and its many twists and turns, here’s the nuts and bolts: Phylos built their name as a testing facility, creating a super-cool 3D map of the Cannabis genome called the Galaxy. For depth of information, ease of use and simple visual appeal: it’s unrivaled in the world, truly an accomplishment to be cherished proudly and applauded by any bioinformatician anywhere. Phylos set themselves up as a guardian of people’s genetic work, helping growers and breeders establish a prior timetable of when they had their genetics before the inevitable wave of patents and big ag attorneys looming on the horizon start to rewrite the rules of what belongs to whom.

For years they had a page on their website titled “Tools for Breeders”. This dealt with developing marker-assisted selection, a technology where the specific mutation points on an organism’s DNA code are tracked and understood, then that data used to inform and accelerate traditional breeding. This isn’t GMO, where a CRISPR machine is used to rewrite sections of the plant’s basic DNA. This is simply kicking traditional breeding into overdrive: with a pre-grow genetic roadmap, a breeder could use this tech to decide which seedlings out of a crop will carry the traits they’re looking for; all of a sudden you’re looking at bringing ten plants full term instead of potentially hundreds of thousands, saving time and labor and resources and farmland.

All in all, this promised better, more refined traditional agriculture for the community and a safeguard against private labs under the direction of a multibillion-dollar ag company steamrolling us all out of existence. A level playing field, an honest and even shot for so many small and underground growers who suffered for so long in our drug war: truly a paradigm shift in agriculture with the potential to ripple outwards into the wider web of what we grow, how we grow it and in essence who we are as a culture and species.

This was one of the things that really attracted me to the company, and one of the reasons I’m so sad to see them go the way they have: a breeding program could have been introduced to the public as a series of tools to develop and further their own work. As it goes, this was simply not to be.

Phylos Bioscience Announces In-House Breeding Program

They made their fateful announcement on Instagram on April 9th: an in-house breeding program, one that by definition would not only be stiff competition for any other breeders of industrial hemp or craft flower but most likely bury with the tech they’ve gathered and perfected. Imagine if all the umpires in baseball got together and said they were starting their own team, putting the full weight of their support behind it. Should the other teams, or the general public for that matter, trust them when they tell us they’re not competing, that they just want to contribute to the love of the game?

This was the quandary Phylos presented with their public statement. True, they’d be paying royalties to the original breeders of the building blocks they started with. But they kept repeating it, over and over in the comments section: we’re not going to compete with you. At best it was patronizing and to this day it remains unfounded. And people got…really, really mad.

Community Responds with Outrage

Between the low-level emoji trolls, loud-mouthed blowhards, cannabis influencers and well-meaning, erudite responders who clearly had a much more solid grasp of genetics and science than the company was giving them credit for: it was an unmitigated shitshow. There were the most horrible names, from “Corporate fucking chads” to the worst you can imagine. There were ignorant pitchfork-wielding yokels spouting pseudoscientific nonsense, there were numerous physical threats.

On the occasion that somebody would ask for clarification or a more complete picture of what might be happening with the data they submitted, the slightest optimism in their sentiment was met with some of the heaviest ridicule I’ve witnessed anywhere, anytime. Everybody took their piece of the big bad scientists and their reputation. It was awful for me to watch; like a dream home you spent a year building reduced to cinders quicker than you could comprehend.

They tried to salvage the situation with form responses to comments, a public statement from their PR person (turns out “You know what? I AM a suit. But I think I’m a pretty good one.” …is not a delicate statement when your intent and role in the industry is being called into question), but the community was relentless. They made a second IG post and a post on their website’s blog, attempting to clarify the first but eerily avoiding some of the deeper questions being asked of them. They did what they could to speak to “how scary this must be” for Everyone involved. Some were pacified by this. Most remained skeptical at best.

Phylos Founder Vows to Replace Modern Varieties of Cannabis

Almost immediately afterward, a video of one of their founders giving a presentation was unearthed, speaking at the Benzinga Cannabis Capital Conference in Miami in February. The term “smoking gun” almost doesn’t do it justice: like many of us who had worked with Phylos in the field, and myself more poignantly than most having worked directly for them, put my name behind them, gone to bat for them with my honor and my word… it was really, really hard to watch. I had to go through it several times over several days just to believe what I was hearing. I cried through a lot of it, puked at one point. It couldn’t possibly be real.

“All the cannabis that’s around now will be replaced by varieties that will be optimized and specialized, and we’re going to be the company that makes those.”

“We have huge barriers to entry protecting us.”

“It would be impossible for anybody else to collect this data set.”

“Cultivators can’t do real breeding on their own.”

“Our core business is plant breeding, we had to build two other businesses to support that…so we built an entire testing business to create all that data.”

“We have a really unusual advisory board. They are not there for show… Ron started and ran a couple of seed companies that he sold to Syngenta, he worked for Syngenta for years and is now the CEO of a spin-out company from there. And Barbara until recently was the VP of technology acquisition for all of Dow / DuPont. So, having these guys around is just critical for us, because we’re building a company that is ultimately going to be acquired by that universe.”

It was suddenly, starkly clear that the brass at the top of the company didn’t give a shit about the community they had built themselves up on the hopes and aspirations of. Actually, truly the case that they looked down on that community and the breeder’s art they’ve carried, for decades, risking everything as “a quaint, rural hobby that maybe farmers get into.”

Supporting Big Ag over Craft Cannabis

Since then, their reputation is on fire and the trolls of the internet have decidedly unleashed themselves. Almost as painful to me as watching their credibility disintegrate has been tracking the body of grotesque, virulent, often badly-uninformed and occasionally decidedly ignorant vitriol being espoused in their direction and that of anybody who supports them, or wants to, for any reason, no matter how rational the rationale.

Things seem uncertain at best for their standing in our community. For being the most dedicated, passionate and capable team of people I’ve ever worked with, in any industry: they’ve chosen to support Big Ag over craft botanists, money over the community. They had a real, solid chance with one of the most valuable crops on Earth as it emerges into full marketplace acceptance to stand with the right people, change the way the game of agronomics is played. Instead, they took the money. They fucking blew it.

Worst of all: they set back the trust of the cannabis community in science, possibly by years, until a stable and reliable alternative can present itself. We need to advance and evolve if we’re to survive the coming onslaught of Corporate Weed. It is not guaranteed that we’ll retain control of our culture or our plant, and with this development things just got darker for us all.

A Word of Advice to Phylos

That all being said, I’d like to give a couple of points of unsolicited advice to the folks at Phylos. Maybe they’ll listen, maybe not: all the same I hope that one way or another they take some time to address their tone-deafness on many key points and publicly raised concerns surrounding their announcement. Who knows? Maybe they’ll surprise me in a way that works for everybody. I can’t help but hold out hope.

First of all, stop talking about “How ‘scary’ this must be” for the community. The term that more accurately describes your recent behavior is “insulting”. Here’s why: the language you’re using indicates a complete lack of understanding and empathy for a group of humans who have endured generations of legal persecution, social stigmata and violent crime. I personally have had friends lose their freedom, their possessions, their families, been lined up against a wall and executed – all for the love of this plant.

This is far from an isolated experience. If you think you’re “scaring” the devoted, hardworking community who had the guts and integrity to build this culture during prohibition that you’re now attempting to appropriate and sell off to big ag, you’ve got another goddamned thing coming. You clearly have no idea who you’re talking to, nor what they’ve endured to get here: we’re in this because we ARE this, past present and future. Check yourselves.

Secondly, you need to state, clearly, what side of the business you’re on. You can’t simultaneously use the lab experience the breeder community has paid you to build, sell yourself off to the biggest fish that waltzes into your bank account and expect to continue enjoying support from the community.

You want to sell out? Fine. But quit acting like you’re not competing with the rest of the industry. Referring back to suggestion #1: it’s insulting. This isn’t a question of a small group of bad actors being really mean and hateful on Instagram, nor is it a question of nuance and context in your communications. Stop bullshitting the people who got you here.

Moving Forward as a Community

To the community at large: we need to take a moment right now. We need to assess, to reflect, to adapt and overcome. There are clearly some mammoth changes coming our way and everything our predecessors have fought and died for is being coveted and actively taken from us by greedy businesspeople who did nothing to help our plight when it really mattered.

As a community, we need a common legal language and framework that breeders can use to protect their work.

We need a scientific community that’s open source, fully transparent and works for everybody equally. We need to support this with personal research, communication and our dollars.

As consumers, we need to support crop diversity and the ability of small farmers to innovate and drive our industry by making our purchasing choices reflect those ethics.

When we get burned, we pick ourselves the fuck back up and keep moving. Given what we’ve survived so far: this is just another bump in the long, strange trip. Not to worry, we’re gonna WIN this thing. Better goddamned well believe it, Y’all.

With peace, love and respect for everyone involved,

-Dick Fitts

TO READ MORE OF THIS ARTICLE ON HIGH TIMES, CLICK HERE.

https://hightimes.com/news/chronically-il-man-fired-using-marijuana/

0 notes

weedconsortium2 · 5 years

Link

The Script

“Hello, folks! Hope everybody’s had a pleasant morning. My name is Ricky, and I’m here today from Phylos Bioscience.”

The Flip

Phylos Bioscience Starts as Testing Facility for Breeders

Phylos Bioscience Announces In-House Breeding Program

Community Responds with Outrage

Phylos Founder Vows to Replace Modern Varieties of Cannabis

“All the cannabis that’s around now will be replaced by varieties that will be optimized and specialized, and we’re going to be the company that makes those.”

“We have huge barriers to entry protecting us.”

“It would be impossible for anybody else to collect this data set.”

“Cultivators can’t do real breeding on their own.”

“Our core business is plant breeding, we had to build two other businesses to support that…so we built an entire testing business to create all that data.”

Supporting Big Ag over Craft Cannabis

A Word of Advice to Phylos

Moving Forward as a Community

As a community, we need a common legal language and framework that breeders can use to protect their work.

We need a scientific community that’s open source, fully transparent and works for everybody equally. We need to support this with personal research, communication and our dollars.

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With peace, love and respect for everyone involved,

-Dick Fitts

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erickacourtney007-blog · 7 years

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OK so what we have here is a police officer who decided to confront a suspected killer without backup. Also she wasn’t wearing a vest. Why do officers do this? You’re going to chase down a suspected killer who according to earlier reports ALLEGEDLY shot his pregnant ex girlfriend to death, and you’re going to do it ALONE. WHO DOES THAT? Not to mention this guy had been on the run since December 13, 2016. That means that if he’s on the run, he doesn’t want to jeapordize his freedom and he’d be willing to do ANYTHING to stay free. Even if that means killing an officer. This wasn’t personal. She just was in the way and she was a threat. Did the person who he carjacked get murdered? No. He could have killed them as well. The only killing that was personal was the Ex girlfriend. He didn’t kill the cashier or anyone else in the vicinity. The reason for me saying this is this isn’t about this guy hating cops.

Also stop trying to tie the death of the officer who was killed on his motorcycle enroute to the scene. Every news source is saying 2 OFFICERS killed. Accuracy is important. He killed one officer and he’s suspected of killing an ex.

His ex Sade Dixon

Gunned down by suspect Marketing Loyd

Markeith Loyds Facebook is loaded with tons of thirsty chicks hoping to get a shot at the title of being his boo. Sade Dixon won. But winning isn’t always a good thing. Sometimes if you have to fight hard to get to the number one spot in someone’s life, chances are you might end up on the losing end. Love isn’t about competition.

Y’all know I usually go hard on criminals and y’all also know I’m not a cop lover. So I’m not going to spend time bragging about what kind of hero she was. Simply for the fact that I just don’t want to. To me once you sign up to be an officer and patrol the streets, violence and even death can be part of the job. Law enforcement is a PERSONAL CHOICE . And the fact that she has a son who is without their mother, this mother made the choice of policing the streets as her career. It comes with the territory. That’s why I’m not a cop. I’m not interested in putting my life on the line for my country or state.

But back to Loyd. There’s something interesting about this case. His Facebook profile shows a different kind of man than what the public is portraying. No I’m not saying he doesn’t have a criminal past. I’m not saying he didn’t kill the cop or his ex. What I’m saying is I’d like to shed light on what this guy was really about. Now the eyes are supposedly the window to the soul. I’d love to jump on the wagon with everyone else and attack his character. But I’m not going to kick him when he’s already down. He’s getting what he wanted. He’s MOST WANTED.

On his Facebook page he talks about love with his ex and sharing love to his friends and followers. I noticed that when a photo of him shirtless was posted, he received over 100 likes. But when the photo of he and his girlfriend was posted, it received 7 likes. That means Sade Nixon had a lot of haters. His last post was apparently the same day he allegedly killed her. He posted that it was TIME TO POWER UP. And in that post it shows an emoji with stacks of cash. I can look at Loyd and tell that he himself had a lot of haters as well. He seems like a guy who likes nice things.

But did he snap? What transpired between he and Sade? Have we heard his side of the story? Have we heard her side of the story? If he’s posting that he loves her and she betrays him, men can’t handle that type of rejection. Men can’t handle that type of disrespect. Yeah we can call him names like coward because he killed someone. But he’s not the only one and he won’t be the last. Also I’ve read many comments about him being a black man who killed a black woman. What the FUCK does that have to do with anything? Ted Bundy killed over 50 white women so stop the racist bullshit. All races kill. All races murder their children. All races have domestic disputes. So this isn’t about him being black.

Also I don’t like the fact that because an officer is killed, $60,000 is raised immediately to being Justice for her death, but missing children hardly get notice and it can take months to get a $5,000 incentive to locate the child.

Besides who do you think is willing to go up against him right now? Loyd has nothing to lose. He’s very dangerous. Shit if I saw him, I DIDN’T SEE HIM! I’m not dying for you idiots. Then Sheriff Demings is talking about he doesn’t want his officers chasing after him because he’s dangerous!! But you wanna offer the public money to find him? Fuck you. That’s YOUR JOB. YOU look for him.

Markeith is probably holed up somewhere with some chick. There’s countless women out there who’d love to be his accomplice.

The story below…

An Orlando police Sergeant was shot and killed Monday after approaching a suspect wanted for questioning in the murder of his pregnant ex-girlfriend, and a second law enforcement officer was killed in a motorcycle crash while responding to a massive manhunt for the suspect.

More than a dozen schools were placed in lockdown during the manhunt, and authorities were offering a $60,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of Markeith Loyd, the 41-year-old suspect wanted for the murder of Master Sgt. Debra Clayton.

Clayton was killed outside a Wal-Mart store in northwest Orlando early Monday, and an Orange County Sheriff’s Office deputy was killed in a crash while responding to a manhunt for Loyd. The deputy wasn’t identified because his family hadn’t been notified.

Another Orlando police officer also was involved in a crash while responding to the shooting but only had minor injuries.

Authorities said Loyd previously was a suspect in the murder of his pregnant ex-girlfriend last December.

“He should be considered armed and dangerous,” Police Chief John Mina said at a morning press conference. Later in the day, the chief said, “It doesn’t matter where he is. We will track him down to the ends of the Earth.”

Orange County Sheriff Jerry Demings said deputies had been searching unsuccessfully for Loyd for several weeks and believe he was receiving help from someone.

At an afternoon news conference, Demings urged Loyd to turn himself in peacefully.

“If we have to go in after him, then that jeopardizes and puts at risk the safety of law enforcement officers … and we cannot control what happens in that situation,” Demings said.

Mina lauded Clayton, a 17-year veteran of the force as a “committed” officer and “a hero” who gave her life to the community she loves. The Orlando Police Department said in a tweet that Clayton always had a smile and a high five for every child she came across.

“She made a point, even outside her working hours, do to things for youth and do things for the community,” said Deputy Chief Orlando Rolon.

She was married and had a college-aged son. She died Monday at 7:40 a.m., less than an hour after she was shot while on duty.

Police released a video of Clayton’s body being taken out of the hospital to a waiting van in a flag-covered stretcher. A line of officers saluted as the stretcher was wheeled out.

Authorities said 17 area schools were placed in lockdown following the shooting.

Officers and deputies were focusing their manhunt on an apartment complex in northwest Orlando, and dozens of residences had been searched. The apartment complex and shooting in northwest Orlando was nowhere near Orlando’s tourism corridor in the southern part of the metro area.

“There will be a large law enforcement presence in that area until we can determine he is not there,” Mina said.

Orlando Mayor Buddy Dyer declared a day of mourning in the city.

While at the Wal-Mart Monday morning, Clayton was tipped off by someone that Loyd was in the area. When she approached him, he fired multiple shots at Clayton, who was wearing body armor, Mina said.

Clayton returned fire but didn’t hit him, he said.

Sheriff’s officials said a deputy spotted Loyd fleeing in a vehicle. The suspect pulled into a nearby apartment complex and then fired at a deputy, striking the deputy’s SUV twice. The deputy wasn’t harmed, the sheriff’s office said.

Loyd then carjacked another vehicle, drove away and then abandoned the vehicle not far away, according to the sheriff’s office.

The manhunt was being conducted where he abandoned the vehicle.

The Orange County Sheriff’s Office deputy was killed more than two hours after the shooting when a van collided with his motorcycle as he responded to the manhunt, authorities said.

Gov. Rick Scott cancelled an appearance in Orlando because of the shooting but appeared with Orlando officials at the news conference.

“I’m heartbroken and angry,” Scott said.

Floridas Most Wanted, Markeith Lloyd (Loyd) OK so what we have here is a police officer who decided to confront a suspected killer without backup.

#Markeith Loyd Florida cop killer on the run #Markeith Loyd LLOYD NEWS FLORIDA MANHUNT officer killed Walmart interview pinehills #Sade Dixon news pregnant woman shot and killed December 2016

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