#never not thinking about that. fellas you ever build the whole fucking universe on a foundation of your sister imprisoned because you fucked | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs | Tumgik

#never not thinking about that. fellas you ever build the whole fucking universe on a foundation of your sister imprisoned because you fucked

quietwingsinthesky · 2 months

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thinks about metatron referencing god only talking about amara when he was drunk and the direct parallels that then draws to john’s relationship to mary’s memory after she died, and hey that was a fucking insane line to put in their show right.

#never not thinking about that. fellas you ever build the whole fucking universe on a foundation of your sister imprisoned because you fucked #up so bad and now you can’t ever acknowledge or admit it or it all falls apart. but you WILL make ur kids act the whole fucked up mess out #again to try and justify your actions to yourself. (or watch. and hope that they’ll get it right? but maybe that would be worse. prove that #you could have. but not anymore. you can’t face that mistake anymore. rewind the story with another pair and watch it go horribly wrong.)#the show is not subtle at all about amara-mary being parallels. and it was never subtle about john being their dad who is god. and now god #of course. is kind of like their dad. but it is also insane. they did not have to do this. no one forced their hand and made them make amara #his sister. instead of his wife. but. well!!!!#i mean!!! more for me!!!! but holy shit insane tv show!!!!

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deniigi · 3 years

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hi I have something for y’all called a disaster.

I wrote an Inimitable!Spiderman/Modern Star Wars AU because no one can stop me, not even myself. it is like 47 pages long. I am handing it tenderly to y’all.

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Title: impossible scenario

Summary: Peter runs into some drunk assholes arguing, calling each other Han and Luke. He lets it roll off him until he can’t anymore and eventually finds himself for the first time on the other side of someone more chaotic than himself.

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There was an argument happening under a fire escape. Peter knew about it because a concerned dude wearing a fuckin’ Yankees cap had flagged him down with waving arms and told him that someone needed saving, Spiderman. Some tall asshole was kidnapping a young blond dude, the guy and his too-cool-for-him girlfriend explained. They’d heard the two scuffling.

Peter maybe stared for a beat too long at them because the gal pointed two blocks behind him and said, “That way. I think the blond guy might be drugged. He’s slurrin’ something strong.”

Peter liked her shoes. They looked like Miles’s, but blue.

“Spidey?”

Miles told Peter all the time that he wasn’t cool enough to wear Jordans. MJ and Johnny had agreed. Such sad times.

“Spidey.”

“I got it,” Peter sighed.

The gal tsked.

“Man, you’re too young to be this jaded,” she said.

Peter sighed.

“You’re the third person to say that this week,” he said. “You think I should go back to therapy?”

There was a pause.

“You know that answer, dude,” cool-gal said. “Go save the twink.”

Twink. Got it. Thank you, citizen.

“There are websites for that shit, Spidey.”

Bye now.

“Apps, even.”

Bye, bye.

“BetterHelp or Headspace or somethin’—”

“Two blocks, you said?” Peter asked.

--

Two blocks away, there was indeed a man with dark hair trying to lift a violently intoxicated twink up onto the first steps of a fire escape. Peter examined his options. There were many ways to ruin a potential kidnapper’s day. His favorite involved coke and mentos, although he’d received feedback that that was a waste of perfectly good food. Down the list was also the option to walk over and scream bloody murder so that the kidnapper shat themselves and dropped their target.

That was good, but Peter was tired and the thought of mustering up the energy to scream at a noticeable volume made his thighs turn to Jell-o.

That left snark and violence.

Today, he would not choose violence. Only for today.

He strode out of his dark temporary residence between two dumpsters directly towards the tall dude and his mark. The mark was a messy one. Bless his heart, he was unwittingly making himself the most noncompliant victim to have ever victim-ed. Every time the tall guy got him almost vertical, he gave up his corporeal form to become drunk slime and ooze back to the ground with various moaning sound effects.

It would have been funny if not for the kidnapping context.

The fact that Peter had been standing there under the beams of two separate side-building security lights and neither of those two had noticed yet was also objectively funny—or would have been, if Peter had the capacity for processing humor at the moment.

Alas. This was what he got for telling Tony that he’d evolved beyond the need for sleep. He got caffeine-pilled. And there would be no true rest until that shit wore off, exhausted as Peter’s body yearned to be.

“Kid, work with me here,” the tall guy said.

“I can’t, I’ll die,” the shorter one moaned.

“Luke.”

“I’ve done my time—thirty years in AZKA—”

“Keep your voice down, oh my god.”

Peter was just standing here, fellas.

“Luke.”

“Why’s it always me? Why’s it always gotta be me? The hell did I do to piss off the whole galax-galaxy? HA. My bad, my bad. The whole universe?”

God, what a mood.

The tall guy dropped his grip on the smaller one and loomed over his puddle of ooze with poison in his gaze.

“People are going to die, Luke,” he said.

“So what? They’re always dyin’. Everywhere I go, people’re dyin’ and when it’s not them dyin’, you know who is?”

“Kid.”

“ME.”

“So you’re just gonna wallow there, feelin’ sorry for yourself?” the tall dude snapped.

“Sure am,” the puddle of ooze hummed.

This was not a kidnapping. This was a come-to-Jesus in the back alley of a bar. Peter was not needed here. He turned around on his heel and stopped when he heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Is that?” someone whispered.

“Don’t mind me, pal, just your friendly neighborhood—” he started.

“Look what you did,” Tall and Handsome hissed at Ooze-Man. “Someone went and called Spiderman on us.”

Peter lifted a brow as Ooze-man ripped its chest up from the asphalt and composed itself back into a human shape with fluffy blonde hair and huge wide eyes.

“Omigod, it’s Spiderman,” the guy said. “Wait, no. Gimme a hand. No, not that one, fuck off, nevermind, I don’t need you.”

He drew himself up to standing, only leaning slightly on his buddy there and gave Peter as lopsided smile.

“Hi, there,” he said with a twang that Peter couldn’t place. “Were you lookin’ for someone, handsome?”

Ah, they had reached the time of night when all the drunks needed to tell Peter things he already knew about his ass. He loved this time.

Not to mention that this dude looked eerily like Johnny. Scarily like Johnny. So much like Johnny that Peter almost wanted to take a picture of him to send to Sue so that she could print up some lost and found posters.

“Just lookin’ at you, babe,” he said. “This guy botherin’ you?”

The tall guy blanched and then grabbed at his face in horror. Peter swallowed his laugh.

“He sure is, hon. You got time to rescue me?” Blondie crooned.

“Luke, please. Please.”

“Because I’m in real distress,” ‘Luke’ said with a pout mighty enough to fell Thor.

“You sure seem like it,” Peter said. “C’mere. I’ll walk you home. Leave that tool, he ain’t worth your breath.”

He held out an elbow like proper gentleman and was pleased at the hand that Luke laid over his heart in response.

Peter could imagine Johnny’s face in six different expression of jealous horror at a selfie taken with this look-alike. Each was beautiful in its own special way. As payment for being referred to counseling by the public, he at least deserved to receive at least two of those faces.

“You mean that?” Luke asked him.

“He doesn’t,” his tall companion said.

“I sure do, where do you live? I’ll walk you,” Peter said.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry, he’s gonna escort me,” Luke said, all choked up and fanning his eyes lightly.

This tall friend grabbed him before he could escape, though, and pulled him back behind his own body.

“Listen, Spidey, this is a misunderstanding,” he drawled. “I know this idiot—he is technically my idiot— and I’m the one escorting his ass home. Thanks, though. You’re a real menace. Beat it.”

MMMMMMM.

And here Peter had been planning on being jaded and miserable this fine night. How could he now when this dude was ticking every box that made him feel alive?

“What’s your name, dollface?” Peter asked across the short distance.

“None of your business,” Tall Guy answered abruptly.

“Luke,” Luke said around him. “Are you gonna save me?”

“In just a minute,” Peter said, striding forward with a hard roll in his shoulder and deep drop in his knees.

It was amazing how Tall Guy wanted to take some steps back all of the sudden. Peter couldn’t help but let a smirk widen his face as he advanced.

“Okay, hang on now,” Tall Guy said with both palms out in front of him. “You don’t know what this is about, Spidey. You don’t want to get involved with this, trust me. He’s just bein’ dramatic. No need to get testy.”

“You sure do a lot of talkin’ for your friend there,” Peter noted through his grin.

“Yeah, Han,” Luke said.

Ha.

Han. Han and Luke. Ned was gonna be enraptured when Peter told him about this later.

“Luke. Back me up.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” ‘Han’ finally snapped. “I’m not doin’ this because I want you to suffer, alright? I don’t want nothin’ to do with it either, okay? No one does. But it’s this or—”

“Or everyone else,” Luke finished for him in a strangely toneless voice.

Han sighed.

“It’s always everyone else,” Luke said.

“Not here.”

“Why’s it always everyone el—No, no, here. Why not? We’ve got fucking Spiderman in our midst, how much more surreal can this moment get? No. You listen to me, Han—”

“I’ve been listening to you all damn evening and you know what I’m hearing?”

“—I lost my life for this. I lost my home, my aunt, my uncle, my hand—”

“I’m hearing you making this about you.”

“—everything I ever knew, and I tried to make it right, didn’t I? I made the school. I gathered the kids—”

“And it’s not just about you this time, kid. It’s not about you, it’s not about me, or Leia, or Chewie or—”

“—I lost my kid and the love of my life, and I finally get a second chance at finding them and giving them the goddamn happy ending they deserve, and the next thing I know—”

“Luke, you’re the only one,” Han said.

“I WAS NEVER. THE ONLY. ONE, HAN,” Luke roared out of absolutely nowhere, sober as a saint. “I was never the only one. EVER. Ahsoka. Go find her. She’s everything that I’m not and more. She’s the real—”

“Luke.”

“Stop saying that name. I HATE that name. I would do anything for twenty goddamn seconds where I didn’t have to be him.”

“You don’t mean that,” Han said quietly. His shoulders had rounded out and become black and heavy under the weight of their shadow. Luke’s eyes, however, looked like topaz.

“I mean it,” Luke said.

Oho.

So shit had gotten real tense, real fast, so Peter about to make a decision that was gonna make Shelley so proud of him she would weep when he finally slunk back in through her office door.

He was leaving. He was turning around and taking a wee jog. Maybe turning a corner, having a little jump over a fence, up a wall, to a place as far away from this one as superhumanly possible.

Bye, bye.

“This galaxy needs you, Luke.”

Peter stopped five paces away.

“They need you,” Han repeated. “And I need you.”

Peter slowly looked back to see that Luke’s face had twisted sharply out of the light, towards the alley wall.

“I’m sorry that we met again like this,” Han said quietly. “I’m sorry it’s always you. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”

“Shut up,” Luke said.

“But if you don’t do something, then it won’t be just me and you and all these random others sliding back into that cesspit we all barely crawled out of.”

“Stop.”

“You’ll never find him if things go back the way they were.”

“You—you don’t know that. There—maybe—”

“Luke. Listen to me. Please.”

“Maybe there’s a chance—”

“Luke,” Han said reaching out and putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder and clenching it hard enough that Peter should see the bunched fabric, “Do you want Din to live through this shitshow a second time? Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

Peter shivered. The pressure at the base of his neck was building. The Spidey Sense wanted to hiss in his ears like white noise. It pinned him where he was, staring over his shoulder at those two solid shapes, one digging a hand into the flesh of the other.

His stomach turned.

Luke said something that Peter couldn’t hear. Han pulled him toward his own body by the grip he had on his shoulder. At first, Luke seemed to stagger, like he was walking on black ice. He stopped a single step away from Han’s body, still with his face angled severely away. Han said something to him.

There was a long pause, then Luke seemed to fall forward. Han caught him and crushed his head into his shoulder, lowering his own until it was almost touching Luke’s ear. They clung to each other.

Luke was crying.

The Spidey Sense started to crackle and pop in Peter’s ears.

“I gotchu, kid,” Han said in a rasp. “I gotchu. We’re gonna get through it.”

Peter blinked once and finally unlocked the muscles in his neck. He wasn’t meant to witness this. He held out a wrist and fired a line.

--

It was weird.

It was just weird.

Something wasn’t right. And Peter couldn’t make his stomach not writhe about it.

Luke.

Han.

An offhand mention of like, characters. Character names. They were character names. Leia, Chewie.

Peter had heard of people who lived their lives honestly believing that they had been other people—fake people—in past lives, but like, damn man. Why would you put yourself in a position like that were you were moved to actual tears for some elaborate street-drama?

Maybe it had been a joke? That was the only thing he could think it could be. Maybe the universe had gazed upon his hubris at work and gone ‘ah yes, I know what this young man needs: emotional confusion at midnight on a Thursday. That’ll fix him.’

If that was the case, then yeah. Good job, universe. Good job, larpers. Y’all are equally sick.

But if not—and Peter no longer lived in a world where he could rule out any possibilities—then he had just witnessed—Dude, he’d just witnessed—

He couldn’t even think it. It was beyond him. It was so far beyond him that like he might have a real stroke taking the thought seriously.

There was only one person who could hold that kind of information unscathed.

Only one.

--

PP: Ned. I need you to listen to me and tell me I’m not crazy.

NL: no promises but go on

PP: I think? I just saw? Luke Skywalker? And Han Solo? In an alley behind Kitty’s?????

NL: fascinating

JS: Say more

PP: who let you in here?

JS: you?

PP: SECURITY

NL: Peter say more

PP: I can’t there’s a nerd in here and it’s vibrating at the wrong decibel. SECURITY???

MJ: yeah?

PP: I’m trying to have a breakdown. Can you remove Matchstick please?

MJ: what kind of breakdown

JS: he thinks he met Luke Skywalker

PP: Security has failed me. God?

NL: Peter can you name three things you can see.

PP: I am not manic. I am in touch with reality. I’m just having anxiety because I just fucking saw two people calling each other Luke and Han fighting behind Kitty’s. Like real fighting.

JS: nicknames?

PP: I—

PP: oh my god nicknames

PP: Johnny I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. never leave my side

JS: 😊

MJ: wow that’s cringe. Imagine naming yourself after SW characters

NL: does kitty do a cosplay night now????

PP: idk it was wild. People thought that ‘Han’ was trying to kidnap ‘Luke’ but when I got over there, Luke started flirting with me and then shit got real and they started arguing over like him hating his name and not wanting to do something and losing everything or some shit

NL: that’s a lot. I’m sure it was nothing, though, peter.

PP: yeah it was. My SS has been going nuts ever since I left. You think they bugged me?

JS: yes I will come search your body imminently

MJ: my job storm, back off

JS: after MJ has finished prelim checks, I will then search your body for you out of the kindness of my heart ❤

NL: that’s weird, the SS doesn’t usually freak out about cosplayers

PP: ikr?

NL: lol imagine if they were serious

MJ: don’t say that

JS: well now we have to lean in. thanks ned

JS: they were definitely real. God they were so real. You hear that Fate? You got us. They’re definitely real.

PP: BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE?

MJ: cue breakdown

NL: that would be so fucking funny. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo trying to save the world from the hellscape of nyc. The rats alone would thwart them.

PP: ned I’m freaking out

NL: oh you mean you’re actually freaking out?

PP: deeply

NL: oh shit sorry. I’ll be over, have you slept yet?

PP: NO

MJ: on it

JS: can I join?

NL: no johnny

MJ: no johnny

PP: 😭

JS: one day our love will build a bridge, peter. In the meantime I am stroking your ear comfortingly from midtown

--

Need and MJ’s weight pinning him to a mattress brought sleep but not necessarily comfort. They both thought that this was a sick joke someone had played on him that was now destroying his psyche. They thought that the couple pointing him back towards the cosplayers had been in on the joke.

Peter would have agreed with them if it wasn’t for the Spidey Sense. Everything else lined up perfectly.

Ned sighed in the morning and told Peter to go talk to Wade.

--

Wade’s hallucinations were, by far, more auditory than visual, but he stayed quiet while Peter talked his ear off over the phone in his locked office. He waited until Peter had run out of words to describe the feeling of impending doom and then huffed a bit of a laugh into the receiver.

“Them Star Wars people are unreal, Pete, you know this,” he said. “Look at Ned.”

Ned was perfect.

“Take off those rosy shades, hon. Now, look again.”

Ned had perhaps memorized the entire scripts of the first three movie and 90% of the spaceship names and the jedi lineages.

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

Peter didn’t want to.

“We all gotta do shit we don’t want do.”

Fine.

Ned’s goal in life was to go to his wedding in a stormtrooper suit.

“Keep going.”

Every Lego project they’d built together since 13 years-old had been a Star Wars-related one. When Ned had decided to move out of his parents’ place, he’d shed actual tears over MJ and Peter mutually suggesting that he sell some of his memorabilia.

“Will this delightful buffet before our very eyes, what is the likelihood of your two pals being drunk larpers in too deep to quit?” Wade asked.

73%.

“Uh-huh.”

“Thanks, Wade.”

“No problem. Although, now I gotta see this. You said they were behind Kitty’s? You think I can get a stormtrooper costume in 8 hours?”

“They’re not still gonna be there, Wade,” Peter huffed. “It’s 10 am.”

“You ain’t know that. What if Luke Skywalker’s a useless drunk, huh? You ever think of that?”

No.

“What’d he look like?”

Peter groaned.

“He looked like Luke Skywalker,” he said. “Blond hair, blue eyes—sort of like a chipmunk that forgot its stripes.”

“I’m onto you, Skywalker.”

Peter hung up to Wade’s cackle. He slouched low and tapped his pen against his desk. Then against his fingers.

He stared at the edge of his keyboard.

“What’s the weirdest thing you could imagine, Pete?” he asked himself.

--

PP: sam

SC: yeah?

PP: do you like star wars?

SC: nah

PP: you’re perfect

PP: do you believe in past lives?

SC: like spiritually or culturally? I know I was a cult-kid for a min there but before that we were Buddhists and like, past lives are part of the package

PP: that’s cool. What do you think of people being reborn as themselves again like, 500000000 years later? From a galaxy far far away?

SC: I don’t think about those people

PP: okay well, hypothetically. Let’s say that you were going to imagine someone who embodied that whole spirit. Who would it be?

SC: Buddha

PP: not buddha

SC: is this a riddle? Is it Jesus?

PP: THOR. Thank you this has been helpful ily bye

Mr. Stark asked him over a cup of viciously black coffee why Peter was seeking out the demigod of his present nightmares.

That usually meant that he and Thor had disagreed on basic physics principles again. Peter took that also to mean that the demigod was still in the building. Possibly loose.

“He’s with Banner,” Mr. Stark said scathingly.

“Thanks, you’re amazing,” Peter said as he sailed out of the room.

--

Thor was sitting on Dr. Banner’s lab table, despite Dr. Banner telling him to get off no fewer than two times in the five minutes that Peter was in there, schmoozing and making pleasantries. He warmed Thor up to the home-run hit by asking him all about past lives and present lives and what the soul was on Asgard. Thor was only too happy to explain a load of nonsense that made Banner roll his eyes and poke at his muscles with a thermometer.

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Peter drawled in a very casual lean, “With the infinite galaxies and universes, etcetera, there could be one where Star Wars people exist. And so hypothetically, they could get reborn into a universe like ours.”

Thor blinked at him.

“You remember the laser swords?” Dr. Banner deadpanned.

Thor lit up.

“I suppose it’s possible,” he told Peter indulgently. “But if that was the case then it would be a long tragedy, no?”

…yes…

Say more, Thor-man.

“Well,” Thor said with a big, happy smile, “The series of events that unfolded in that story seemed to me to be one of triumph and tragedy. With one would come the other—that’s how these stories work, yes?”

…yes.

“So if Master Luke Skywalker and his companions arrived into our space here, then they must experience the same in order to be themselves,” Thor said, bobbing his head in pity. “Perhaps what would look like a new start for such people would result only in terror and disappointment until the same conclusion was reached.”

Peter felt his own grin twitch.

“So it’s not impossible?” he asked.

Both Thor and Banner looked at him quizzically at the same time.

“Peter?” Dr. Banner asked. “Is this coming from somewhere?”

Peter’s grin twitched so violently, it turned into a grimace that even superstrength would not let him maintain.

“Can I borrow one of you?” he asked.

--

Wade was not happy to be met outside of Kitty’s in the middle of the day, especially because his stormtrooper outfit, in his words, ‘did no justice for the size of his balls.’

Peter was ignoring that. He dragged Thor past Wade’s righteous anger until he was standing on the place where the other two had stood the night before. Thor stood there gamely.

“There,” Peter said. “Any like, energy signatures?”

Thor glanced around and shrugged.

Wade scowled at him and hounded him off the spot so that he could stand there instead.

“I feel nothing,” he said, devoid of emotion.

“Same,” Thor said.

Damnit.

“Perhaps you are—”

The Spidey Sense smashed through all of Peter’s sense and screamed at him to get to the street.

Get to the street. Get to the street. Get to the—

There.

Across the way. Chipmunk, no stripes.

That was the guy from the day before. He was on the opposite sidewalk smashed in with the crowd, dragging a hand through his hair and laden with a backpack and two separate totes. He was wearing a strange set of clothes—a mash of casual and formal—and seemed to be in a hurry, the type of hurry that involved pushing past folks at a half-jog and not stopping at streetlights.

“Got ‘im,” Peter hissed.

“No shit?” Wade asked over his shoulder.

Thor made a sound of interest.

“I see him, too,” he said. “What incredible energy, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Wh—

Peter whirled on him.

“Don’t you fucking say that,” he warned. “I’m gonna go distract. You two, on my six.”

--

Peter broke four traffic laws on his way around the block. He swung himself around a corner and fucked up the collar on his labcoat and counted to four before stepping out right into ‘Luke’s path.

They collided. Luke stumbled back and dropped one of his totes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Peter blustered. “Are you okay?”

Luke swore and dropped down without answering, collecting the odd ends of metal that had clattered out from his bag and now rolled loose over the pavement. Peter stooped to join, gathering rings and pipes of all sorts of sizes in his hands. Oncoming folks gave them a wide berth.

It took a moment for Luke to realize what Peter was doing, but when he did, his shoulders went stiff as a board.

“DON’T TOUCH THOSE,” he snapped, just as Peter made to pick up a little plastic bag with a wad of tissue inside it.

Peter froze.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said.

This time, Luke finally met his eye.

“Oh, Jesus. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Luke blustered, “Thank you. I’ll—I’ve got them. Thank you, though. It’s okay.”

He took the metal out of Peter’s hands and stuffed them back into his bag. He snatched the plastic bag before Peter could touch it and put that on top.

“Excuse me,” he said as he stood. “Thanks again.”

And just like that, he hurried off past Peter down the pavement.

Peter watched him go.

“Catch?” Wade asked softly from the corner.

“Negative,” Peter said, reaching into his sleeve and holding up the thin aluminum tube he’d hidden up there by the edge of his shirt-sleeve.

It was shiny and longer than he’d expect for any plumbing project. The inside appeared to be coated with some sort of heavy, non-reactive material, and half of the outside had grooved bands carved into it.

“Someone’s building something,” he said.

“Mid-century sink?” Wade asked, taking the tube.

“Nope,” Peter said.

--

NL: That is a lightsaber hilt

NL: where did you get that? It’s like mega accurate. Was it etsy?

PP: I stole it

NL: give it back

PP: I can’t I stole it from Luke Skywalker.

NL: Peter.

NL: we talked about this.

PP: He’s Luke Skywalker. I swear on the grave of my mother

MJ: this is a problem. This is now an intervention.

PP: I will prove it. If he’s Luke Skywalker, then he will do ANYTHING to get this thing back.

NL: and if not?

PP: then I will wait two days before politely tracking down his home address and then I will return it via wall crawling

JS: UM

JS: SORRY

JS: PETER CAN YOU CALL ME?

PP: no

NL: no

MJ: no

JS: are

JS: are you sure??? Because there’s a guy in Reed’s lab right now talking to him and Sue, asking SUPER politely for access to—I shit you not—the crystals we picked up from that space trip the other day???

NL: …

PP: …

MJ: …

PP: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

MJ: fake

NL: no way

PP: WHAT’S HIS NAME, JOHNNY BOY????

JS: I can’t

PP: nope you gotta

JS: I can’t I’m gonna cry I didn’t ask for this

MJ: out with it

NL: please say it’s obi-wan

JS: HHHHHHHHHHH

JS: nope

JS: just a guy named Ben 🙃

PP: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

PP: I told you motherfuckers

JS: right. So like. Awkward. But you uh, know that hilt thing you have?

PP: …is Obi-Wan Kenobi about to beat my ass, Johnny?

--

There was something about putting the hilt into the palm of someone more famous than Captain America that made Peter’s knees weak.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker had flirted with him the other night.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker didn’t recognize him as Spiderman.

Nothing helped, really, especially when those big topaz eyes lifted and Peter could see that their rims were red and raw.

“Thanks,” Luke Skywalker—the embodiment of hope itself—said in a soft, defeated rasp.

Every alarm in Peter’s head said to save him. Save him from what? How? Who knew.

Ned and MJ seemed to feel the same way, if the pressure on each of his arms was anything to go by.

“Well, that’s all cleared up, then. Thank you so much for your help; it is deeply appreciated,” a stupidly pleasant gentleman with a perfectly combed beard and lovingly coifed light hair said to the room at large.

Obi-Wan Kenobi—pardon, Ben Kennedi—was far more handsome than any movie could ever dream to make him. What they’d done to him in the 1970s, Peter saw now, was a fucking crime. He watched as this beautiful human being set a warm hand on Luke Skywalker’s—pardon, Luke Naberry’s—shoulder and used it to steer him towards the Baxter Building’s front entrance.

He watched as the two of them, like true Master and Padawan, stepped out onto the landing and opted for the stairs. For one fleeting, unbelievable second, Luke looked back over his shoulder at all of them before taking the next step after his Master.

He was right the other night.

He wasn’t the only jedi. Not anymore.

“So that just happened,” Sue acknowledged for everyone after the door had clicked closed and the sound of footsteps had faded off to nothing.

“I’m going to cry,” Reed announced.

“This is single-handedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ned said.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi walked into our kitchen,” Reed told Sue like she hadn’t been there right next to him.

“The empire is trying to establish itself under our very feet,” Sue said back a little viciously.

“The real empire,” Reed whimpered.

Wait.

No, go back.

“For real?” Peter asked.

Sue and Reed looked back at the rest of them and then exchanged a look.

--

Peter was sad now. Depressed and laid out on his side staring back at Valeria’s huge eyes on the floor while Ned and MJ and Johnny asked Reed and Sue two hundred clarifying questions.

Peter didn’t need the specifics. He was thinking back on the conversation that he’d witnessed between Luke and Han Solo—Han Solo who was tall with dark hair and dark eyes and an accent straight out of New Jersey. Solo who had probably been charged with forcing Luke to face the facts in front of all of them because he was the one who Luke trusted most.

But it had shattered them—both of them.

The New Hope had given up everything. He was tired. His heart was torn. He was jaded just like Peter had been that same night. He’d been avoiding the tightrope that Peter had already started crossing, though, probably looking for every possible way to not have to set the first foot on that wobbly line.

He’d walked it before.

Valeria reached out with a chubby, round hand and touched the side of Peter’s face.

“Spiderman,” she said with terrifying understanding, “Someone needs help.”

He wriggled in close enough to bonk heads with her.

“Baby Storm,” he whispered, “I think you’re right.”

--

MJ thought that Peter needed to leave things alone. She pointed out that he had plenty of problems without getting involved in universe-saving. She gestured to Johnny and volunteered him for the job.

Johnny refused on account of needing to be the prettiest blond in any room. He claimed that if he wasn’t, he had to fight for dominance.

Ned was on the other end of the spectrum. He had 43 reasons why Peter should get involved with things, and 40 of them ended up in the same place which was ‘it would be cool.’

One of Ned’s better reasons, however, involved pointing out that Peter had already stolen half of a lightsaber. He was good and involved now, whether he wanted to be or not. And that was enough for Peter to decide to go on a hunt to give a formal apology.

He recruited Ned to help him locate Luke Skywalker.

That didn’t work.

They tried Luke Naberry.

That didn’t work either.

They ended up going through every possible iteration of every Star Wars name they knew and then filtered out the people who’d been named by exuberant parents and then filtered out anyone who didn’t live in New York and they ended up with fat lot of still nothing.

It was like Luke Skywalker didn’t truly exist in this world.

Until MJ found his Instagram by typing in ‘guys who look weirdly like Luke Skywalker.’

She held the phone aloft in triumph and they all gathered round to gape in awe at her intelligence and research skills.

Luke’s Instagram was nothing but pictures of coffee.

He had one selfie and this selfie was enough to have gotten him onto a BuzzFeed article. In it he was holding—you guessed it—coffee. Iced coffee. One in each hand.

He was shaking them, and one had been labeled with his name—hence the public connection made.

“Someone needs to tell him that coffee is not a food group,” Johnny observed.

“Maybe he works nights,” MJ said.

Ned lifted an eyebrow.

“Maybe this is his job,” he said.

There was a pause.

Some snooping revealed that Luke was an honest to god food website editor. He was a cameraman.

Repeat. Luke Skywalker, cameraman. He filmed all the food hosts for his company’s Youtube channel. He edited videos. He more or less blended into the background of everything, while having his finger prints on damn near everything.

This was a man after Peter’s own soul. They were kindred spirits in hidden identities, content creation, and suffering under a boulder of responsibility too great to cope with.

He had to find him now.

And after they had his Instagram it wasn’t too hard. He seemed to hang out in various parts of the Bronx and Peter just so happened to know some folks out that way.

--

Louis told Peter that he would never speak to him again if he found, befriended, and then didn’t share Luke Skywalker (the man, the real man, I’m not fucking with you, Louis). But he also recognized a place on Luke’s instagram that he seemed to be working his way through the menu of. He sent along an address and told Peter not to forget his promises.

Angel asked why he was looking for Johnny Storm in the Bronx.

Peter left Louis to rattle sense into her.

He took a walk on Saturday morning. A long walk. A long train ride, then a walk, then a half hour of squinting, and then, lo and behold, he found a blond guy banging his head into the center of an out door metal table across from a woman with heavy braids trailing down the sides of her neck. She was much older than him and drummed white-painted fingernails across her cheek as she thought.

Peter hid and called Ned and MJ for an ID. He peeked the phone’s camera out enough for them to see the other two and then snatched it back.

Ned was about to flip a table.

“That’s clearly Ahsoka Tano,” he said. “She—the braids, dude. Dead give-away. And she put ribbons in them, like what even is discretion?”

Peter didn’t know that person. He continued not to know this person, even as Ned dragged him through a trainwreck of Star Wars lore.

“So she’s a friend,” he said.

“She’s like a jedi, but not like a jedi, she was a jedi, but then she said ‘fuck the order’ and—”

Great. Peter was approaching.

Ned held his face in his hands. MJ told Peter to report back on his findings. Peter ended the call and inched closer, weaving through the crowd and slipping into the coffee joint to see what nonsense they were selling.

It was nonsense with lots of syrup. He could never say no to syrup.

He watched the two outside while waiting for his order. Luke gesticulated to his friend and she spoke, giving reasonable gestures back. He stopped her and dug out his phone and that little plastic baggy full of fluffy material. He answered his phone. His friend took the little bag and held it up to the light.

She frowned at it.

Luke pushed away from the table and walked away to take his call. Peter’s order was called. He grabbed it and swerved out towards the patio.

“Hello,” he said at the edge of Luke and his friend’s table. “Is this seat taken?”

Luke’s friend stared at him.

“It is,” she said. “Move along, hon, you’re ten years too young.”

Wow.

“For your friend?” Peter tried. “Could I leave my number?”

He had this lady’s attention now. She was looking him up and down, appraising. Peter tried not to flex. He stayed cool. Matt-levels of cool. He smiled winningly.

“Alright, why not?” she said, digging through her bag for a receipt and a pen. Peter beamed as he leaned down to scrawl his number down on the back. He got halfway through before he heard a step stop nearby.

“Look alive, kid,” Luke’s friend said. “Hey, Luke, this guy was just—”

“You again?” Luke said.

Peter lifted his head and brows.

“Hi,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize.”

There was a long silence.

Luke’s friend looked between them and then gave Luke a long, judgmental stare.

“You don’t have to,” Luke said. “Thanks, though. How did you find me here?”

Mmm. Beginner’s luck.

“Here,” Peter said, offering his number on the receipt. “If you ever need someone to talk to who gets it.”

Luke’s friend bit her lip and looked away in secondhand embarrassment. Peter ignored her for now.

“Thanks,” Luke said. “You don’t and you won’t. But you’re very pretty.”

Nice.

“You’d be surprised,” Peter told him. “Gimme a text. I’ll leave y’all alone now. Enjoy your coffee.”

He left. But not before hearing, “but that ass, Luke.”

--

Ned told him that there was no way that Luke was ever going to text him and he was disappointed in Peter’s hostage-taking skills.

But he was proved wrong two hours later and, for his crimes, had to admit Peter’s brilliance publicly.

LS: hi sorry. This is Luke. This morning when you stopped by our table, did you happen to see a little plastic bag on it?

Why yes. The one in Peter’s pocket right now? That bag?

PP: hi!! I did, actually. You guys aren’t very subtle 😏

LS: it’s not coke

PP: I’m not judging

LS: no, it’s not coke, I swear. It’s something INFINITELY more important. Did you happen to see if it had fallen on the ground?

PP: ah, no, sorry. I didn’t see it

PP: OH NO

PP: oh my god I’m so sorry, I think I took it with me when I accidentally took your friend’s pen.

LS: I

LS: what’s your name?

PP: Peter ❤

LS: Peter, you have a fucking problem

LS: I’m starting to think that you want something from me. And listen, you’re a handsome guy, but I’m not available and my type isn’t kleptomaniac. What do you want for it?

PP: well you got me

PP: to talk

LS: about what?

PP: mostly about why you look like you’re a wet phonebook in a bad gutter

LS: a phonebook???? What era are you even from????

PP: I could say the same to you, sir.

LS: I

LS: wh

LS: alright touche. The point is that I’m not going to talk to you. I just need that bag back. It’s a life and death situation.

PP: what are they? They aren’t coke crystals.

LS: how would you know?

PP: what are you, a cop?

LS: NO. This is going nowhere. What. Do. You. Want?

PP: To. Talk.

LS: I’m not going to talk to you.

PP: then why did you ask me to rescue you?

He held his breath.

LS: I didn’t

PP: you did

LS: I didn’t ask you for shit. This is it. What’s your last name.

PP: Man 😊

LS: Man what

PP: That’s my last name.

LS: Peter Man.

PP: oop, nope, sorry. That’s someone else.

LS: …so I’m calling the police, now. That’s what we’re saying?

PP: depends. Do you still need to be rescued?

Come on, Skywalker. Come on, remember.

LS: I never asked you to rescue me.

PP: You did. Think back.

LS: I didn’t

LS: I just made a joke to

LS: WHAT AFAJSDFA DTTH E FUCK

Peter cackled and let himself fall onto his back.

PP: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ❤

LS: YOU’RE

PP: Just your friendly neighborhood guy ❤

LS: YOU

LS: you

PP: me

LS: THAT’s how the storms knew you

PP: yep 💋

LS: I don’t even know what to say

PP: it’s okay, you don’t have to say shit. The main thing I wanted you to know was that I hear you. And if you need it, I’ve got you.

LS: You’re literally trying to rescue me??

PP: it’s my job

LS: IT ISN’T. How have you never been arrested? how did you find me? Did you track my phone? Is it some kind of spider thing???

PP: yes

LS: I am legally obligated to kill you with the force now

PP: harder daddy

LS: ADaaSDASFSDFSdd

LS: oh my god Han is going to lose his gourd

LS: I’m sorry I just I can’t believe you of all people stole my damn hilt

PP: I’ve got……………………..sticky fingers

LS: go die

LS: no I didn’t mean that sorry that’s a thing with me and my sister. I mean, okay. You got me. Hero of NYC.

Peter’s cheeks were starting to hurt.

PP: I’ll bring them back to you.

LS: Please do, Ben’s about to have a stroke.

PP: you mean obi-wan?

LS: he’s convinced his cat ate them. There’s a staring contest happening. No one has blinked in two minutes and I don’t want to be here for the internal investigation.

PP: where do you live?

Luke sent an address. Peter held his phone high and walked it into the living room where Ned was bitchily composing an Instagram post. He and MJ looked up at the same time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Peter said. “Luke Skywalker and Co. live in a cemetery.”

--

It wasn’t a cemetery. It was a funeral home, but close enough.

Luke was waiting outside on the stoop in a cardigan about four sizes too big for him. It was there probably to protect him from the equally large ragdoll cat in his arms.

Peter smiled. Luke stared at him and then shook his head and went through the screen door. Ned gave Peter a biting look.

“Made friends, I see,” he said.

“We’re doin’ great,” Peter told him, hopping up the stairs. “Look at us, totally—”

“Insidious.”

Peter stopped and turned nervously to see through the screen door where Obi-Wan Kenobi had seized both of the cat’s cheeks. Luke continued to hold it with maximum doneness levels.

“Where have you been?” Obi-Wan asked the cat seriously.

“We have guests,” Luke said. “Take your beast.”

Obi-Wan snatched the cat out of Luke’s arms with contempt all over his face.

“You are a villain of the highest order,” he told it.

“Ben. Guests. Please evacuate. I am hosting negotiations,” Luke said.

“We should have named you ‘Sith.’”

“Ben.”

Peter was not going to laugh at Obi-Wan Kenobi. That was too surreal.

“Come in,” Luke said, returning to hold open the screen. “I hope you’re not allergic. There are two of them.”

T-two?

“The other one is Junior.”

Peter stepped over the threshold and found himself in a room that looked like a human birdhouse. It was full of surfaces that were almost completely empty, as though an enrichment object had once lived there but had been removed as punishment. Luke waved Ned and MJ in and accepted their apologies on Peter’s behalf.

Peter ignored them to lock eyes with a creature more stunning than any he had ever encountered. It sat on the kitchen counter by a single clear jar labelled ‘Not Spice.’ It blinked grumpy green eyes.

“Oh, it’s these people again?”

They all looked behind them to see Obi-Wan peering around a doorframe with the first cat draped over his shoulders.

“Kleptomaniac,” Luke said, pointing at Peter. Peter waved.

“Huh,” Obi-Wan said simply. “I will distract Ahsoka.”

He vanished. Luke grimaced after him.

“Let’s go talk in the back,” he said. “There are no bodies, I promise.”

--

The funeral home had a little deck and a yard small even for this far out in Queens. It was crammed full of plants that appeared to be in a competition to bloom. Luke invited them to sit and then left to make coffee.

Coffee, yes, how had Peter forgotten.

He peeked over the side of the deck down where there was a large stone set in the center of the garden.

“A seeing stone,” Ned whispered to him.

“Oh, how did you know?”

They all jumped.

Peter swore that Obi-Wan hadn’t opened that sliding door. How had—what—

Ned was at a loss for words in the face of one of his greatest heroes.

“I—uh. M-movie? I mean, sorry. It was in The Mandalorian, second season, with the—”

“Yet more television,” Obi-Wan said derisively.

They all stared.

“Can you teleport?” MJ asked him.

“I thought you were bothering Ahsoka?” Luke asked, from inside. He squeezed past the man and his cat with three glass mugs in hand. He set them down on the little square table off to the side of the desk railing.

“I was, but then I got curious,” Obi-Wan said. “And I lost Junior.”

Luke stared at him.

“I’m going to lock you in the basement,” he said.

“Try, try, and try again,” Obi-Wan told him, petting his beloved cat’s head.

“Do you even know who Spiderman is, old man?”

“More television.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Peter had to keep a conscious watch on his jaw, lest it fall open in the face of the most handsome, clueless man on the planet. He watched as Obi-Wan, disgusted with all this ‘television’ nonsense skulked back off into the guts of the home. Luke shut the door behind him.

“So,” he said, holding out his hand. “We’re talking. Fork ‘em.”

Ah.

Fair was fair.

Peter produced the plastic bag from his pocket and handed it over. There was a shout somewhere inside followed by someone going ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

“Ben keeps our home ghost free. He terrifies all the wannabee haunters,” Luke said simply. “Thank you for these. I imagine it’s somewhat of a shock to learn that it’s all real.”

It was, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing Peter had encountered by far.

“How long have you lived in New York?” he asked conversationally.

Luke gave him a weird brow.

He seemed smaller than before in that enormous cardigan. Certainly smaller than the movies made him seem. His face was a little thinner too, and his lips seemed to slope into an almost permanent pout.

“About twenty years,” he said. “We were born in California, but Anakin moved us here when we were eight.”

Anakin? Like, Darth Vader, Anakin?

“’Luke, I am your father’—yeah, that guy,” Luke said with a scoff. “Except, you know, he ain’t dead. And he’s the only one who can make Ben remember that tea isn’t a meal, so we keep him around for that and to scream back at Leia.”

Peter was already completely lost to the dynamics of this household. It wasn’t like the books and movies—Ned’s twitching for his phone to take notes was proof enough of that.

“That’s awkward,” MJ said. “So did y’all do like, collective counselling for the past life shit?”

Luke deflated and moaned into his hands.

“It’s not past life shit if your damn name is the same,” he said. “It’s complicated.”

It sounded like it.

Imagine growing up with your apparently-Star War-obsessed father and uncle who’d built a home and a business (presumably) around that shit, only to find out later that they’d done it because it was literally their religion.

What a trip.

“When did you find out?” Peter asked gently.

“Oh, you know. Last week,” Luke said with a bitter grin. “Quit my fulltime job. Dumped my ex. Broke my lease and now here I am. Once again. Back at this place.”

“Do you want a hug?” Ned asked into the awkward silence.

“You’re very sweet,” Luke said. “If I touch another human, I will start crying and never stop.”

Yikes.

Barely holdin’ on by a thread there, buddy? How’s the hyperawareness going?

“Why does it matter, is my question. For you, I mean,” Luke said with a suspicious squint. “You fought a goblin guy, didn’t you? With a hover board?”

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh, yeah.

Yeah, Peter sure had done that.

“And like, the bird dude? Didn’t you down a plane?”

Perhaps.

But Luke had blown up the Deathstar, no?

“These things are not equivalent,” Luke said flatly. “I joined a rebel alliance. There were loads of us.”

Mmm. Perhaps so.

“God, how old are you even? You look 22.”

Peter gawked.

“I’m 27,” he said.

Luke did a double-take.

“That’s a lie,” he accused. “Tell the truth or be compelled.”

“By the Force?” Ned asked hopefully.

Luke blinked at him. He pointed at the glass sliding door which revealed Obi-Wan holding Junior the cat above his head by the kitchen sink.

“The Force,” he said.

Ned’s face fell.

“Do we not have the Force, here?” he asked.

Luke flinched.

“Listen,” he said abruptly, “We’re workin’ on it. This isn’t our original galaxy. The rules are all different. The only one who’s managed to make even a spark happen is Obi-Wan so far, but as soon as we find Master Yoda, it’s over. We’ll already have won.”

“You lost Yoda,” MJ mused.

Luke stammered and caught himself.

“We lost a lot of people,” he snapped. “It happens when you shift galaxies. Anyways, that’s what the stone is for.”

MJ glanced back at the stone and then leaned her forearms onto the small table.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You jedi folks all popped up over here by some cosmic accident. You don’t have the Force. Most of you don’t even remember who you are. You lost your most experienced Master, and you’re going to fight the Sith?”

Peter stirred his coffee nervously.

Luke’s eye twitched.

“We don’t need the others,” he said. “We only need the Force. To fight the Sith. Yes.”

MJ frowned deep and held her chin with both hands.

“So you need the thing you for sure don’t have the most,” she said.

Luke opened his mouth, but not before the window by the door snapped open and Obi-Wan leaned out to say, “We always have the Force.”

Luke covered his face in despair.

“I was listening from the kitchen window,” Obi-Wan told him lovingly.

“GO FIND CODY ALREADY,” Luke roared at him.

“I did, he’s right here,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, stroking his angry cat.

“The other Cody.”

“Oh, I am trying, don’t you worry.”

“Ben, so help me God—”

“Force.”

“SO HELP ME FORCE—”

Star Wars had really left out the part about Luke’s explosive temper. Peter winced, but Ned laughed and the sound seemed to have a calming effect on Jedi-on-Jedi crime about to take place in the kitchen. Obi-Wan appeared pleased with this development and emboldened. He wove past Luke out onto the desk and came over, cat and all, to point down to the seeing stone in the middle of the garden.

“Others who feel the Force’s energy will be drawn to it,” he told Ned fondly. “It’s how we got Luke back home.”

“It’s not,” Luke said. “You called me.”

“And so others will also come,” Obi-Wan said with confidence. “The most important thing is that we believe in the Force. And from that, we will find guidance and power and—”

“He means Yoda,” Luke translated. “He’s been putting frogs on it as an offering, even though me, Ahsoka, and Anakin told him that this is a human’s world. A human’s world, Ben. Even if he did eat them, he’s not eating them raw.”

“Don’t be discouraged by Luke’s attitude, he is very stressed,” Obi-Wan told Ned and Ned only affectionately. “I told him not to be, you see there are four of us here already, and the Chosen One is among us.”

“Anakin told you to stop calling him that,” Luke moaned, massaging his temples.

“He was the first to be aware of our present situation,” Obi-Wan said.

“He took a hallucinogen and had a paranoid breakdown,” Luke pleaded. “Ben, please. Go inside. Think of your blood pressure.”

“Perhaps, but it was a useful breakdown, was it not?”

“I am so sorry for him, he’s getting senile,” Luke said to the rest of them.

“Your energy is different,” Obi-Wan informed Peter out of absolutely nowhere. “Are you also Force-sensitive? Were you drawn to the stone?”

Er.

No.

Sorry?

“He’s Spiderman,” Luke said, gesturing pointedly. “Remember Spiderman?”

Obi-Wan did not. Peter suspected, actually, that Obi-Wan still used phonebooks, if he used phones at all, that was.

Luke took a deep breath and let it out.

“Okay, let me just lay it out,” he said. “We’re doing the best we can with what we have. You don’t have to get involved with this. We appreciate your help, but what would help us even more is if you stay out of it, alright?”

Yeah, okay. Sure. Peter could respect that.

“Amazing. And don’t tell other people.”

Understood.

“Unless they’re Force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan said. “In which case, ask them how they feel about rocks.”

Luke just stared at him coldly this time.

“You didn’t used to be like this,” he said dangerously.

“No, I used to be stressed,” Obi-Wan told him. “But you and Ani are doing that for me, so I have resolved to be a free spirit. Nice to meet all of you. Have more coffee. I don’t like this one; I will have it out of the house by sundown.”

He left, and possibly for good this time. No one knew what to say in his absence.

“So,” Peter tried, desperate for something to break up the tension. “You said a few days ago that you were looking for someone?”

Luke finally stopped making growling faces towards the sliding door. He lit up like a bulb.

“I am, actually,” he said.

--

Luke was looking for a very particular person named ‘Din.’ He described him as ‘six feet tall and covered in armor.’ He asked if they knew of such a person.

Peter had to shove a hand against his mouth in case he made an unwanted connection between this description and Obi-Wan behavior.

“Haven’t,” MJ said. “Who is he?”

“My husband,” Luke said.

Ned choked.

Peter choked.

MJ tilted her head.

“You have a husband?” she asked. “I would have remembered a husband in that series.”

Luke leaned his chin on his palm and gazed sideways over the city. He seemed to sigh.

“I don’t know why he isn’t connected to me in the media created here,” he said. “It’s probably because he’s always been very shy.”

Oh, aw. Peter loved that. The contrast between them was heart-warming.

“We had a son together,” Luke said. “His child. He brought him to me. One of my students, at first.”

Hang on a minute here.

Peter exchanged a glance with Ned. Ned tried very hard to pick a way to approach this sensitively. He landed on asking, “What was his name again?”

“Din,” Luke said. “Din Djarin.”

Ned cringed.

“He was a Mandalorian,” Luke explained. “Very, very, very shy. Like, he would rather chew off his own leg than make small talk with a stranger. I think, before I knew all this, I was still subconsciously looking for him. All my exes are the same type.”

That—

Okay, so like.

Did these people own a TV?

“Do we look like we own a TV?” Luke deadpanned. “No. If Ben senses anything bigger than a datapad happening in this place, he’s driven to madness and breaks it.”

UH?

“He doesn’t actually break it,” Luke sighed. “He just finds a way to make it unusable—putting clothes on it, disconnecting the monitor, that kind of thing. He thinks they waste electricity.”

What a guy. Peter wanted to put him and May in a room and see what conspiracies they could spin together.

“Why do you ask?” Luke asked.

Ned cleared his throat.

“Do you have a, uh, datapad, then?” he asked.

--

“DIN. That’s DIN. He’s got his own show. Oh my god, that’s—stay right there. Don’t move.”

Bless this man. Peter wanted to hug him so bad. They’d lost him to the staircase leading up from the second floor to the attic. Peter wondered who he was showing the tablet to.

Maybe Obi-Wan?

“I told you this already,” a voice up there said.

“LOOK AT HIM.”

“You’re killin’ me, smalls. We had this exact conversation last week. Did you forget?”

“You knew where he was.”

“Alright, alright. Downward march.”

Anakin fucking Skywalker came down the stairs with a handful of Luke’s shirt in one hand and the tablet shoved under his other arm. He paused and frowned at the three of them in the kitchen frozen in shock, and then apparently decided that that didn’t matter. He carried on dragging Luke with him towards the kitchen counter. He dropped the tablet onto it and Peter realized that the lower half of his sleeve on that side was empty.

He watched as the guy let go of Luke and chased the not-angry cat off the counter, cursing.

“Alright, this?” he said, tapping on the tablet. “Is the link I put here.” He rapped the same finger on what Peter now saw was a whiteboard covered in rows upon rows of symbols that he’d never seen before.

“Din here? Din here. You see?” Vader told Luke with untold patience.

“I can’t read that,” Luke moaned. “You lied to me.”

“It’s up in the kitchen, Luke.”

“You’re a liar and a cad. Do it in Basic.”

“This is Basic.”

Oh, dear. All that fanfic about Luke meeting Darth Vader and having a breakdown was looking real embarrassed now, wasn’t it?

“If it’s Basic, why can’t I read it?” Luke demanded.

“Because, like I told you last night, the night before, and the night before that,” Vader said painstakingly, “It doesn’t all come back at once. It’s going to take time.”

“We don’t have time,” Luke snapped.

Vader leaned his head back with half-lidded eyes. Luke didn’t look even remotely like his kid, even with him looking all pre-quels-like now.

“We talked about this, too, remember?” Vader asked.

Obviously not. Luke was distressed. He had eyes only for the tablet now.

“No, of course not, silly me,” Vader said. “Why are humans here?”

“Ahsoka went home,” Luke said.

“Thank you, that was not my question.”

“What was your question?”

“Why are non-order humans here?”

“I told you, Ahsoka went—”

“Son, I will kill you if you continue to act like Obi-Wan,” Vader said without missing a beat.

“You can try,” Luke said offhandedly. “But only one of us has two handed grip.”

There was a long stare.

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Vader told him. “Why do we have living guests?”

He gestured back to Peter, Ned, and MJ like they were flies on a set of blinds.

“Oh, because that’s Spiderman and he stole your kyber crystals,” Luke said.

Vader rounded on Peter, and Peter actually felt fear.

Vader blinked once.

“This may as well happen,” he decided somehow placidly. “I’m going back upstairs. Where did your grand-master go?”

“Into the mist,” Luke said. “Can you feel Din?”

“Negative, ghostrider.”

“When the Force chooses you first out of favoritism, can you feel for Din?”

“Ah yes, can I feel for your Force-repellant life partner with all of the Force energy that I do not have? Yes, I sure can.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, primary monstrosity of my loins.”

UM?

This felt a little hostile for Peter’s tastes. Not that it wasn’t earned. Clearly it was earned. It was just horrifying.

“Guests, you are dismissed,” Vader said in their direction. “Unless you’re drawn to the rock outside, in which case, you may stay. Otherwise, do not darken this doorstep again, or else we will leave you with the other dead in the morgue.”

“Thanks for bringing the crystals,” Luke said from behind him. “And for talking. I do feel better, actually.”

--

They left the funeral home. Obi-Wan was outside by the mailbox as though waiting for them. Peter wasn’t sure he had any emotional energy left to approach him with.

“Thank you for speaking to Luke,” he said as the three of them attempted to pass unnoticed. “It’s good for him to talk to others his own age.”

Uh-huh. Good night, sir?

“Good night, Peter, Ned, and Michelle.”

They hadn’t given their names.

They definitely hadn’t given their names.

--

Ned wasn’t sleeping for two years. He made this clear with a lot of clapping gestures and then rolled around on the floor, talking about all kinds of shit that Peter couldn’t decipher. MJ watched him and flicked her eyes up to Peter with concern on her forehead.

“That family is cinematically dysfunctional,” she said.

Correct.

“They’re barely their own characters.”

Correct.

“What now?”

Peter wasn’t sure. The best he could think of was to just keep an eye on the situation. Maybe check in every couple of weeks?

“If you say so,” MJ said. “I think you made Ned’s life, by the way. Good job.”

--

Peter tried checking in every two weeks. It started because he happened to hear of a tunnel collapsing in Queens nearby the funeral home. He texted Luke to ask if he needed a save and all he got back was a ‘well, not anymore.’

After that, Peter kept a close eye on happenstances occurring around the city. There were more than he bargained for. And when he glanced at Luke’s Instagram after the first week after the tunnel collapse, he noted that two of the nails on the hand Luke held his coffee to the camera with had gone completely black.

That was worrying.

Peter was used to be the danger-prone asshole in his friendgroup. He did not like this role-reversal. MJ asked him sarcastically what the problem was.

He texted Luke again.

PP: how many nails do you have left bro?

LS: we put a hole in one to release the pressure

PP: that don’t sound great bro.

LS: it’s fine. Oh, but good news

PP: oh?

LS: the most predictable thing ever has happened. The Vader has regained force power

PP: that’s worrying

LS: ? why?

PP: won’t he go dark?

LS: ah, no. He fucked up and raised me and Leia with Ben this time after our mom died. He had his chance to go dark and traded it for 8 consecutive hours of sleep instead.

PP: I truly don’t know what to say

LS: It’s fine we did 12 years of family therapy after the accident so we are no longer on the DSS watchlist

PP: I know less what to say

LS: he won’t find din :/

PP: is that your priority right now?

LS: aren’t you supposed to be spiderman or something? Don’t you have chaotic things to say?

PP: you know normally I do, this is literally out of character for me. but I think you also might be absorbing my chaos.

LS: that’s fair. I have that effect on people. Hey, is your buddy Ned available to chat? He knows more than I can remember about my old life. Can I borrow him?

That sounded like a horrendous decision.

PP: yeah let me get you his number.

LS: thanksssss

--

Ned reported a few days later that his services were needed at the funeral home. He was leaving them all now to befriend Luke Skywalker as was his true destiny.

He came back a few hours later and reported that his services had been helpful and he was pleased to say that Darth Vader was now the official herder of ‘wans’ in the house. This included all Obi-Wans and padawans.

He seemed to be the only guy there who could like, retain information given to him for some reason. He accepted this as his lot in life and went around repeating the same things to the others ad nauseum until they finally stuck for them.

Peter wondered if that was his personal hell.

Ned didn’t think so. He thought the guy was pretty chill about it and had probably been doing it for a while now. He did it more for Ahsoka Tano and Luke than he did for Obi-Wan. Although that was probably because Obi-Wan appeared to be on a hunt that made all non-relevant information given to him slip off his back like water.

--

Another two weeks. Another text.

PP: hey luke, I saw you drowning on the news. You okay?

LS: GOD my ex-workplace keeps calling welfare checks on our house. We’ve had more cops here then flies these last few days.

PP: ex-workplace is one way to refer to your old job. Sounds like they cared about you. What did you do?

LS: preschool teacher.

Peter was going to lose his shit right here on this bed.

PP: was that your calling?

LS: that was Luke Naberry’s calling. Luke Skywalker’s calling is to make the lightsaber go vrrrrrrm

PP: you honestly terrify me

LS: thanks han says the same thing. OH. HE FOUND CHEWIE.

PP: no shit??

LS: yeah I told Ned, not you. But yeah. He found him lugging boxes for a bodega. And now they both work at the same bodega. Which like, objectively, is a bad thing because Han was a UN translator.

PP: I’m

PP: sorry

PP: what?

LS: I know he was all respectable and shit. It was awful. I can look at him again without feeling like I’ve failed in every part of my life.

PP: dare I ask what your sister does?

LS: lawyer

PP: not senator?

LS: we’re not old enough to be senators.

PP: every moment becomes more concerning than the next. You fascinate me. This is why they put you in like, all the films.

LS: because I’m sexy yeah

PP: that too

LS: not to you. I’m off-limits bub. I’m married.

PP: how’s that going for you?

LS: Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

PP: I see. So no Din yet?

LS: I will find him if it kills me

PP: that’s so romantic. Hey you should watch that series. They gave him a little green yoda in it. Really cute.

LS: that’s my son you piece of shit

There was no winning here.

--

MJ asked him a few weeks later if he was still keeping up with the Jedi drama since the whole city had recently decided that Peter was a snack.

Obviously he hadn’t.

She told him not to worry, Ned had. She told him to talk to Ned, so he went and talked to Ned with a heatpad in one hand and a coldpack in the other.

Ned patted at him sympathetically and informed him that Luke had reunited with the Force. It was going poorly for him, mostly because the Force wasn’t used to people being in touch with it in these parts of the universe. It kept telling each of the jedi that there was a disturbance and then luring them to each other to fight to the death.

Luke described it as the Force-equivalent of an auto-immune disease.

They’d taken to gathering in the living room of the funeral home to meditate in a circle, as though to calm the Force’s anxiety while scenting each other for protection.

It had a 40% success rate. Everyone was sleeping in locked rooms for the time being, just in case someone got compelled to do something rash.

Peter asked Ned if he’d finally lost his crown as King Chaos of NYC.

Ned patted him on the knee more firmly than before and said that he could regain his crown by introducing a calming element into the jedi household.

Peter had his pride to defend, so he asked what that element ought to be.

--

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, the leader of all Mandalorians, was bound to have a name that looked nothing like the one they had for him. Luke nearly exploded when Peter approached him to asked him (and his taped fingers) more about who Din Djarin was outside the name.

They proceeded with caution, however. So far, Peter and Ned had discovered only dissonance between Luke’s account of his life partner (his ‘heart, stars, sun, and sand’) and the guy on the screen for the tv show. That was to be expected, given that they had met Luke now and learned of his somewhat explosive personality.

But even still, Luke’s description of Din Djarin as ‘kind, compassionate, tender, shy, emotionally stable, dependable, sweet, caring, and hunky’ seemed slightly biased.

Peter just wanted to know how tall this guy was. Hair color. Eye color. Skin color. Blood type. That kind of shit.

Luke said that Din had brown hair, brown eyes, Type Who Knows What blood, and was about six feet tall. He had no idea how much he weighed. He’d never had need for that information. He knew that Din was human, which was probably helpful in a galaxy far, far away. He knew that he spoke Mando’a as his first language, then Basic, then a whopping fifteen others. And he knew that Din was probably looking after their son.

Vader asked Peter over a mug of coffee (also labeled in the funeral home’s cabinet as ‘not spice.’) if Spidersenses could overcome a dearth of information. It took Peter a few moments to realize that he was sympathizing with him.

“You’re not going to find Din,” Vader told Luke. “You need to look for the kid. You’ll find the kid first, you always have.”

Luke took his coffee and poured it down the drain.

Peter decided that he didn’t want to get in between that burgeoning battle. He told Luke to text him if he remembered anything else.

--

Wade was pissed that Peter had been meeting and ‘cavorting’ with Luke Skywalker without him. He claimed ownership of the Din Djarin mystery in order to cram himself into Luke’s good graces. But quickly, he ran into the same stumbling blocks as Peter.

Din Djarin was six feet tall with brown eyes and brown hair.

That was what they currently had to go on.

Wade would have torn out his hair if he had any, but he stopped himself and accepted the challenge. Peter watched over his shoulder as he chicken-pecked his way into a list of social security numbers held by the NYC State ID issuing department and started methodically filtering names that did not sound like ‘Din.’

He started broad with all ‘D’s and then narrowed it down further and further and further until he was left with a shitload of Daniels.

He stared at the screen before him and vibrated.

Peter massaged his shoulders before he cracked.

It helped. Wade started filtering by height, then by eye color. Then by hair, and only ended up with several hundred people.

He vibrated again, but this time, Peter couldn’t help him.

He sighed. Wade said that there had to be a better way to do this. He got up.

--

Wade made about four thousand missing posters with the name Din Djarin on them which he recruited the whole team to plaster up around NYC. This was not a request.

Miles asked him why they were doing this for a tv character and had to be let in on the gig.

He lost his shit.

Louis tried to retain his shit.

Angel still didn’t know how the whole jedi thing worked.

Dave hummed and haw’ed and took his time in calling bullshit. Wade asked him to look deep into his eyes and ask if he was entertaining bullshit that fine evening.

Dave changed his opinion and took a stack.

--

There was no way that shit was supposed to work. There was just no way. A) because Wade had the worst ideas of all mankind and B) because Peter had the worst luck of all mankind. So the two of them together should have destroyed all the prospects of success for that job.

But instead, while they were hatching a new plot involving setting up a sham sociological study for people who responded to Star Wars names, Wade’s phone went off.

He grabbed it and opened the message and lo and behold right there was a note that read,

“I hope you are not a reporting body because this is going to sound certifiably insane, but I think I might be the guy you’re looking for?”

Wade screamed.

Peter scolded him not to get too excited too soon. They had to see the man first.

Wade texted furiously, asking for a picture and got a message back that said, “please do not dox me.”

They got no answer until Wade promised not to dox the guy.

And then they got an image of a man with brown hair and brown eyes with olive skin. His face was remarkably square. The picture wasn’t just him, though, he had in his arms a little boy with a head covered in tight ringlets. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black and he was maybe two years old.

The caption said, “apologies, my son needed to be in the picture.”

Wade cooed and entered Dad Mode to ask how old the baby was and what he liked to do and Peter lost the fathers to that small talk for a while before Wade oh-so-casually asked, “So you feel like you’re from outer space?”

“It sounds strange,” the guy on the other said wrote back, “But I do. Like every day I wake up and look in the mirror and something is wrong. I feel like I’m always forgetting something when I leave the house. I watched the tv show of the guy who’s name was on your fliers and the kid in it reminds me so much of my son. It’s eerie. They make the same sounds. He made the same sounds before we even watched that show.”

Wade whistled.

“I think this is him, Pete,” he said. “He called Baby Yoda a ‘kid’ not a yoda.”

Peter stared. He hadn’t even caught that. That was smart as hell.

“So what now?” he asked.

Wade sniffed.

“Get Skywalker to send you a selfie,” he said.

--

PP: Luke are you pretty right now?

LS: My face is intact

PP: take a selfie and send it to me

LS: cannot do that. Face is intact is a baseline situation. Let me find an old one. Oh, they all have my ex in them. This is awkward.

PP: it doesn’t matter I can crop it.

LS: no I have to be cute or I’ll perish hold on

PP: are you sure you’re not Johnny Storm?

LS: yes, he’s got loads of muscles. Sent.

Selfie acquired.

Luke looked very smiley in it. His eyes were blown out from the lighting, but it showed his sloping smile and his low, back-set dimples. Peter sent it to Wade. Wade sent it to his new friend.

They waited.

They waited five minutes.

Then ten.

Then half an hour.

Then nearly two.

And finally, Wade’s phone rang. He picked it up and set it on speaker so that Peter could hear.

“Hello?” Wade said.

There was a long pause.

“Where did you get that picture?” a low, almost smoky voice demanded on the other side.

“A friend,” Wade said sleazily. “You know him? He’s a cute little thing, ain’t he?”

It took the dude on the other side of the line worryingly long to respond.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

Wade brought his head down in interest.

“What’re you willing do to?” he asked.

They waited. Peter didn’t know what was taking this guy so long to—

“Anything.”

Ah.

Okay. That.

That sounded about right.

Wade cackled.

“You know his name?” he asked.

“I do,” the man said.

“What’s his name then, pal?” Wade asked.

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. Peter clutched the back of the couch. Wade was grinning so hard, Peter could see it through his mask.

“You want him, you need to show me that you know who he is,” Wade said. “I ain’t got ‘im here, but I know where he is. Come on, big boy. Who is he?”

Peter could hear the man take in a deep, shaky breath.

“His name is Luke,” Din fucking Djarin, the Mandalorian himself, said.

--

Din fucking Djarin’s name at the moment was Danny Jabaran. He stood six feet tall with a medium build and that baby of his in his arms.

He was not afraid of Wade.

He was not afraid of Peter.

The suits didn’t scare him; this man was a space warrior. The leader of the space warriors. Peter was humbled to stand in his presence, old jeans and tattoos and all.

“Vigilantes,” he acknowledged.

“Deadpool,” Wade said, offering a hand. “And this is?”

“Grogu,” Djarin said.

Baby Yoda lifted his big liquid eyes up to Wade and blinked twice. Then he wriggled around and hid in Djarin’s neck. Djarin put a hand on his back and didn’t drop eye contact.

“Tell me everything,” Djarin said.

--

Ned screamed. Michelle screamed. Peter reminded them that he had neighbors and invited Mr. Mand’alor to sit on the couch for a bit while he called Luke.

Michelle claimed the spot next to Djarin and asked Baby Yoda Grogu for his little hand. He studied her and hid again, making a prolonged sound of distress that Djarin cut off by saying, “Hey. Manners.”

This somehow made baby Grogu turn back to Michelle to stare at her offered hand.

He took it. She shook with him and then took hers away.

Grogu perked up and reached for it again.

“You’re the Mandalorian,” Ned said.

Djarin looked right at him.

“A Mandalorian,” he corrected.

Ned blinked back tears.

“You’re so cool,” he creaked.

Djarin frowned.

“You...are too?” he tried.

Ned wept into a fist.

Peter left them to call Luke in his bedroom. Luke picked up on the third ring with the start of an ingrained greeting that sounded a whole lot like a customer service recording. He caught himself, though.

“I have someone I’d like you to talk to,” Peter said. “I think you might want to sit down.”

Luke’s unusual quiet on the other side made Peter grin.

“Are you sitting?” he asked.

“I’m sitting.”

“Alright, one moment,” Peter said, walking out into the living room. Djarin had edged far, far away from Ned, as far as he possibly could without being rude. He looked up when Peter came over and sat down on the arm next to him.

“Say hi,” Peter said.

Djarin frowned at him and then the phone.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Peter waited. Djarin lifted his head over to see the phone’s screen.

“Hello?” he tried.

“Din?”

The Spidey Sense crashed through Peter like a tidal wave.

Djarin had gone completely still.

“Din? Is that you? Can you hear me?”

“Shit,” Djarin said, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “Goddamnit. Jesus.”

“DIN.”

“Dank Fucking Farrik.”

“Oh my god.”

Baby Grogu’s face snapped toward the phone with huge eyes. He grabbed at Djarin’s collar, then his jaw and started bouncing a little in his arms.

“Bu?” he asked.

Djarin couldn’t make himself move.

“Grogu?” Luke asked. “Hey, baby, is that you, bubba?”

Grogu grabbed Djarin’s face urgently, so that he couldn’t hide his raw eyes anymore.

He pointed at the phone.

“Yeah, I hear ‘im, kid,” Djarin said.

“MMMMM. Gib.”

“Ah. That’s not ours. We don’t grab. We ask,” Djarin reminded as Grogu pleaded for the phone. Peter snickered and gave it to him. He just held it, staring.

“Do you wanna see him?” Peter asked. “Luke, can we maybe video chat?”

“Y-yeah,” Luke said. “Hold on. Oh god, my face. Uh, hey Din are you still near-sighted, hon?”

Djarin huffed a laugh that turned into a whole-body tremor.

“I got contacts,” he said a little hysterically.

“You got WHAT?” Luke yipped, “Okay, no. No, I gotta. Be still, this heart. Okay let me just take off the butterflies. On moment, Grogu, Daddy’s just gotta dunk his face in the damn sink.”

MJ bounced her eyebrows at Peter as he gently took the phone back from Grogu and tapped on the camera. He offered it back the kid and received a deep gaze of wonder in return. Djarin turned the screen right-side up in his hands.

Luke finally turned his camera on and revealed himself to be very swollen in the jaw with damp hair and a cut very close to the rim of his left eye.

Grogu screeched.

Luke laughed.

“Look at you,” he said, “I’m gonna cry. Oh my god. Where’re your ears, pal?”

Grogu analyzed this reaction for 2 full seconds and then shoved the camera right into his dad’s forehead. Djarin took it from him and liberated himself so that he could see Luke who was clutching at his face, absolutely already sobbing, bless him.

He looked up to see Grogu and instead got Djarin and finally just broke right in half.

Peter swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. His eyes were starting to warm a little.

Djarin found a watery smile in himself.

“I know you’re not cryin’ because of me,” he said gently.

“Where’s your helmet?” Luke sobbed, wiping viciously at his eyes. “People are watching, you harlot.”

“I know,” Djarin said. “I lost it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Luke.”

“This is all my fault. I should’ve—I should’ve—”

“Luke,” Djarin said again, full of warmth, “You died for us.”

Luke shook harder than ever.

“There is no greater sacrifice a warrior can make,” Djarin told him. “I was honored for you to have made it for me and our son. This has always been the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Luke stammered.

“I missed you,” Djarin said. “Where in God’s name have you been?”

“I was a preschool teacher in the Bronx, man, I dunno what happened,” Luke said tipping his face up to force the tears back in.

“In the Bronx? Where?”

“Uh, off Allerton and Lurting?”

Djarin started shaking with laugher.

“I work off Laconia and Mace,” he said.

“You what?”

“We’ve been blocks apart this whole time.”

Awwwwww.

“I’m going to stab myself,” Luke moaned. “I’m going to stab myself in the arm. I was right there and I sold out for my part-time gig barely weeks ago. Oh my god. I’m going to—move, old man, I’m suffering—Wait. Din, did you find your parents?”

Djarin stood up and held the phone out straight.

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

--

Look at all these people hugging each other.

Look at them crying all over. There was a baby in there, wailing because he was so happy to be back in the arms of his other dad.

Aww. AWWWW. Peter was getting emotional again, he was going to see himself out.

“Wait. Peter.”

He looked up to find Luke holding a hand to him.

“Thank you,” he said. “You really are a superhero, you know that?”

Yeah.

Sometimes, he did.

--

The city had plenty of problems as it was, yeah, more now with a bunch of jedi running around, linking up with each other and spreading memory like mushroom spores. But it didn’t feel that much different.

What it felt like now was Ned showing Grogu how to hold his hand at the seeing stone in the funeral home’s back yard to make the Force happen while Obi-Wan reported cheerfully that the cat perched on it was still not levitating.

It also felt like watching Luke freak out over text to Ned and Michelle about his ex losing their mind at him dumping them after two years to marry this random mechanic within a week of getting together.

Peter got to see this from new angles, too, one of which was the bottom of the funeral home’s attic stairs, which Anakin Skywalker liked to sit on while his grandkids—both Grogu and Han Solo and Leia Organa (pardon, Leia Naberry)’s son—came over to show him things that he was very well aware of. These were stolen from him by Auntie Ahsoka and her friends who Ned knew and Peter did not.

And there was something warming about how even these folks—people from a galaxy far, far away, occasionally needed a Spiderman.

--

#spiderman #starwars #dinluke #inimitable verse #ficlet #this is the niche of the niche but I know like 5 of you read both my mando and spiderman fics #so this is for you doll #and also the fact that I have a fucking PROBLEM

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ill-skillsgard · 3 years

Text

His Mistress - Series Finale

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Warning: 18+ smut, mentions of cheating, coarse language, mature themes.

Author’s Note: I am terrible at ending stories because I never want them to end. The ending I initially wrote wasn’t good enough, so I started again until I felt it was right. I’ll keep it brief, but I want to thank all the readers who fueled this crazy fire and inspired me to flesh out a dark love story that I’m proud to say I wrote. I’ll miss Mr. Deaver and all the smutty, angsty, drama of his life with his mistress. Thanks for tolerating the never-ending POV shifts and filling my inbox with love and support for the story and for me. You guys are the BEST. I’m forever grateful!

I hope you enjoy the 9K series finale. It’s been a slice!

Henry X Mistress Masterpost [x]

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Henry's company held an office party to bid farewell the building that had brought them growth and success over the last few years. Once again expanding, the company added a brand new customer-relations department, a slew of employees fresh out of university and interns to fill in the gaps. The celebration took place on the evening of their last workday and boasted live entertainment and enough luxurious fare for each employee and their loved ones. They rented a bouncy castle and ball pit for the kids and set up an open bar next to two seminar tables' worth of catering.

It wasn't only a farewell party for the company, but the first time Henry showed off his girlfriend in front of his colleagues and employees. Word of Henry's divorce had already made its rounds, his colleagues begging for gory details after the documents were signed and filed. Rumours fluttered in and out of ears and mouths, but never while Henry was in the room—Henry had cheated on his wife with a coworker, Henry screwed the cleaning lady and his wife caught him in the act, Henry picked up a venereal disease, and poor Mary. The speculation rose tensions, but like all rumours, faded into irrelevancy once news of the company move surfaced. People forgot all about Henry's ugly divorce for the next round of gossip. Word of his mistress died down.

Although the tension had mostly evaporated, she felt eyes crawling on her when she showed up on Henry's arm. Of course, everyone recognized her—she was the secretary for a time, the only line to get an opening with Mr. Deaver. She had spent months parked next to his office, taking his appointments, booking his days, answering his phone. They remembered, and they leaned into the nearest ear to whisper, "I knew it all along."

If Henry noticed the curiosity, he chose to ignore it, but she couldn't. She felt every woman in the place wringing her silently, scrutinizing her moves, her hand in Henry's. People who knew Mary tended to side with the older woman, and the nattering reinstated in hushed exchanges. She was alone at the party save for Henry, but he could only guard her for so long before his colleagues whisked him into conversations littered with business jargon that lost her attention.

Still, she clung to his hand, and once in a while, Henry would break from stock discussions to turn in for a kiss. He surrounded her ears with his fingers, tilting her face up so he need not crouch just to show some affection. When he buried her mouth with his, she savoured the taste of wine, the power in becoming the first lady, the stares from Henry's subordinates.

Henry pulled back an inch, staring drunkenly, though he'd only had one glass of pinot noir, and nipped her bottom lip. "Having a good time, sweetheart?"

"Sure. I love catching all the cattiest office workers glaring."

Henry smirked as though he too tasted a dollop of satisfaction from the envy. "You know what I say to that?"

"What?"

"Fuck them," Henry whispered.

She feigned a gasp, swatted his shoulder, and he pulled her even closer. "Gosh, you look beautiful. I want to undress you later and do all the things they're thinking about me doing to you."

"My, my, Henry. You better take it easy on the vino."

"I'm not tipsy. I'm excited."

She checked his pockets for bulges, hoping Henry's intentions weren't to propose in front of all these near-strangers. The lines of his suit were smooth, and when she hugged him, she only felt his cellphone, wallet and keys, no ring box. She sighed with relief and sweltered under another one of his long kisses. He moaned against her, stroked her neck and back until she interrupted him to say, "Jesus, Henry. What's with the PDA?"

"I'm sorry. I just don't care anymore. Let 'em look."

"Easy, tiger. You're the star of the show. People want to talk to you without lipstick all over your face."

"Mm, I'd fuck you right now if I could," said Henry.

She squeezed his shoulders, holding him off for a moment before he swooped in for another peck. "Okay, okay, I'm done. For now."

"Don't make me spank you when we get home," she warned, mouth curved in jest.

"I'll behave," he assured.

With children running about, the catering service making rounds in the nearly empty office space, more employees and their significant others piling in by the minute, it was easy to get lost in the bustle. Henry's colleagues whisked him away into a conversation she had no business understanding, leaving her stranded, drink in hand, smoothing out the wrinkles in her blouse to distract herself from her friendless reality. None of Henry's employees came to talk to her. She stood alone, a flag on a pole reminding everyone that Henry had upgraded in every way. Some people went by, nodding respectfully, while others bypassed her like a piece of furniture.

Just when she felt the pressure behind her eyes saying she was tired, Frank stepped out of the elevator with his wife and two boys. The children bolted for the bounce house, leaving their bickering parents in their dust. Frank travelled through the crowd rolling his eyes and sneering at his wife, who looked upset about something, but retracted her frown as soon as a colleague's wife greeted her. The loud businessman honed in on Henry, and she watched her helpless boyfriend go limp when the man slung his meaty arm around his shoulders, thumping his back with a ham hock fist.

She mused over Henry's embarrassment as Frank launched into a story designed specifically to draw attention to him in the worst way. Frank's baritone floated above the music, and soon, others gathered to listen to the man tell the story of how Henry got too wasted on sake on a business trip to Japan because he didn't want to seem rude to the host and didn't know how to decline.

"This fuckin' guy—pardon my French—is rolling on the floor in his hotel room, has ten minutes to get dressed and downstairs for the conference, but can't even hold his head up straight. How many did you have, Henry, seven? Eight?"

Henry blanched, shaking his head. "Eight, yeah, I think that's about right."

"You've never seen a guy so drunk in your life! He did the conference, slurring the entire time, stumbling over his shoes, but the folks loved it! Didn't they, Deaver? You really got their attention when you started hiccoughing between every word."

"Different times. We were younger. We were boys."

"Ah, yeah. Young and dumb. Now, look at you! Much older now and just as dumb, eh?"

The gaggle surrounding Henry burst into laughter and carried on as Frank surrendered his grip. She tried to picture Henry staggering, too drunk to string together a sentence, but couldn't imagine him as anything less than poised. The image reminded her of the conversation she had with Mary in the parking garage. Before the divorce had been finalized, Mary told her Henry had done questionable things abroad with his colleagues. Frank's story, although comical and meant as a harmless jab, filled her with suspicion.

Henry had denied the accusation that he cheated before that night he invited her up to his hotel room. With desperation on his face, he vowed on his love for her that he was never unfaithful, barring their affair. She believed him, with reluctance, and stowed it away in her mind with the rest of Mary's dubious claims. Now that stories of shenanigans and unprofessional conduct were in circulation, she tried not to let her suspicions gain traction.

The night played on, and as more of the families left to put their hyper children to bed, the heads of business brought out the top-shelf Scotch and sat around picking at sandwich trays and hors d'oeuvres. Frank caught Henry's assistant-turned-girlfriend in his cross-hairs and approached her with a drink in hand. Red-faced and loud as ever, Frank asked her why she wasn't enjoying herself.

She cleared her throat and offered her best smile. "I am having fun. I just don't have a rich enough history with the company to offer any entertaining stories."

"Oh, come now. You were Henry's assistant for months! You don't have anything to share about banging the boss?"

Frank's announcement only fell on her ears, but it was enough to make her blush and want to escape. He apologized and sidled up to her, clinking his whiskey tumbler with her wine glass.

"Gotta get you a refill, Whaddaya say, toots?"

"I'm fine for now," she said. "I offered to drive home."

"That's right. You two live together now in that little condo."

She blinked, unsure of how anyone might think of the condo as little, then realized she was standing among wealthy men whose homes spanned acres, who owned Summer cottages bigger than the average townhouse.

"I gotta say, Deaver's got that colour back in his face since he started on with you, doll. What do I gotta do to get me a woman like that? He's a whole new man. Is that all it takes is a nice, young honey to roll back the decades? I bet the old bastard gets it up just fine. Just fine."

"Thank you, Frank. I'll try to sift through that to find a compliment," she scoffed and sipped her wine.

"Aw, I mean it with love, darlin', you know that. Ol' Franky just talks, right? I don't mean any harm. Maybe I come from a place of envy, who knows? Not every day a dry old fella gets his hands on something pretty as you. I can see you're good for him. He sure smiles a helluva lot more! Christ, can't chisel the grin off that face. Loopy as a damn circus clown since you came around."

"Really?" She tittered.

"I'm serious. Shit, when Henry was with Mary, you couldn't pay the guy to crack a joke. Now, he's nothing like the shlub I met all those years ago."

She ran her finger along the glass rim as Frank droned on, her eyes on Henry across the room. He had been having a good time, his cheeks aglow with cheeriness. She'd never seen Henry interact with his coworkers for more than a quick trip in and out of the conference room to deliver him a printout or progress report. Tonight, Henry hadn't complained about people talking his ear off. Even after Frank's unflattering account of one of his rare blunders, he hadn't whined or wished they could sneak out unseen. Henry was at ease.

"He's planning on proposing to me soon," she said.

Frank cocked his head and rose his glass. "Here's to hoping he makes the right decision, and quick, before you realize you can do better!"

She clinked glasses with Frank once more, and while he drained his whiskey, she set her glass down on a table nearby.

"I was wondering what his coworkers might say about him remarrying."

"Anything to get him away from that soul-sucking ice queen of an ex-wife."

"Frank? Can I ask you something and get a sincere answer?"

Frank read her serious tone, shifted his brows and angled in, unaware of his alcohol-laden breath fanning over her face. "Anything, love. Franky tells no lies. That's what they say. With me, it's pure honesty."

"I heard a rumour about Henry in Thailand. Somebody said he cheated on Mary. Do you know anything about this? I'd like to know what I'm getting myself into, being young and all. I don't want to end up wasting my best years with a man who might cheat on me down the road."

Frank scoffed, slapped his leg and howled. She waited for him to wipe an invisible tear from his eye, hoping nobody asked what was so funny.

"Oh, doll. You can't believe all the rumours you hear in this place. Thailand... Shit, that was so long ago. I can hardly remember what happened. It's true, we did some partying, but when in Rome, right?"

She grimaced as Frank went on, "Ol' Deaver never left his hotel room on that trip. Me 'n a couple of our work buddies cruised around, got ourselves into a little trouble, but not Henry. He spent the whole week hunched over his laptop, putting last minute touches on some PowerPoint crap—never was good with computers, myself. And don't get me wrong, there were offers made during dinners—generous offers. You know the type. They like to show their hospitality. But Henry was the professional. We call him Dad since he's always keeping us in line. Even us old guys, eh? No, no... Company is rock solid 'cause of him. We told Deaver a million times to drop the ball 'n chain, but the kid stuck it out, he really did."

"Am I stupid to marry him?"

"Doll, I think if you want someone to treat you right, it's my man, Henry Deaver. The Kid can't contain himself. And who could? He's a lucky man, really fortunate to have a dish like you."

"Oh, stop," she gestured at the opposite corner of the cleared out office space where the wives gathered. "You know, if I marry Henry, I'll have to join the wives' club and stand over there with Phyllis and Dorothy."

Frank beamed at her. She decided not to loathe the man for his praise, both for her and Henry. He was a bumbling idiot at times and unfiltered, but she had seen much worse. Before the corporate job with all the nice clothes and gadgets she used to pine for while browsing fashion websites, she worked her food service job. With every type of asshole and gentleman coming through the hotel bar, Frank was the loudmouth who'd changed her mind on Henry Deaver.

"You're a different kind, ain'tcha? I bet Deaver has his hands full with you."

Warm, wine-drunk confidence slid off her tongue, "Oh, I keep him busy."

"I'll kill him if he doesn't marry you, kid."

"I'm sure you will."

"That's Frank's Guarantee."

She tipped glasses with him once more and excused herself to use the washroom. The night was drawing to a close, and she enjoyed the quiet of the bathroom and its 3 stalls. Many times she had retreated to the washroom to text Henry while he was in his office. She couldn't risk getting caught exchanging dirty messages with the boss, so when she wanted to make him blush, she snuck off to the lady's room. Many nude photoshoots happened in the safety of the last stall on the right, and all of them fed to Henry's phone at inopportune times—mostly during meetings or video calls with clients across the world. Now, she laid her head against the cool metal and thought of marrying Henry.

Back then, falling in love with him was forbidden, tingly, like a shot of alcohol at an inappropriate hour that she hoped nobody could smell on her breath. Now, it was pure. There were no more walls, no need to hide in the stall to talk to him. Henry was hers, and everyone knew it.

Henry waited for her by a stack of chairs. Behind him, the catering company was clearing away serving trays, stacking cups and folding tablecloths. The band had long since packed up, and anyone with children had taken them downstairs to the shuttles the company had arranged to drive them home.

"Hey," she greeted him.

"Hey, indeed. How're you doing? I thought I saw you getting along with Frank." Henry chuckled. "What was up with that? I thought you hated him."

"I don't hate him. Maybe I wasn't keen on him hitting on me back at the hotel, but I think he's smartened up. As uncouth as he may be... He has your back and cares about the company."

"He's the drunk uncle of the business."

"You'll have to teach him some manners, though. One day, you'll have a female big-wig to schmooze, and she might not take kindly to pet names."

Henry's eyes bugged as he nodded. "Frank doesn't get to talk to the women in the industry, and don't worry, I'll whip him into shape."

"Hm, is that why they call you the company dad?" She asked, tracing one finger down Henry's lapel. "You just keep everyone in line, don't you? Lay down the law. Tell all those silly men how to act."

Henry shivered as her hand travelled lower, coasted over the front of his pants while nobody was looking. He puffed his chest, a crafty look taking over his visage. He snatched her wandering hand and stepped closer, eclipsing her as he slouched over to whisper in her ear.

"Yeah, I'm the Daddy around here."

"Is Daddy ready to head home soon?"

"Let's say our goodbyes, then we'll get out of here. Come on."

Henry gave her directions that took them in the opposite direction of home. When she questioned him, he patted her thigh, assuring there was a surprise waiting at the end of the line. She tried to pry it from him while they cruised the highway in the dark. The radio played low while Henry tried changing the subject.

"Where am I going?" She asked.

Henry pointed ahead. "Get off at the next exit."

The roads narrowed, and the street lamps spread farther apart outside of the city. She slowed the car, flipped on the high beams and guided Henry's BMW over gravel hills. There were houses along the quiet strip of country line, but they were hidden behind spruce and maple trees.

"Henry, we're so far from home. I'm tired. Please tell me what we're doing."

He pointed at a driveway tucked behind a line of birch and a dented metal mailbox standing crookedly on the side of the road. "Down there. It's close now, don't worry."

They curved through a loose gathering of evergreens and pulled up to a sprawling ranch house with a double garage and topiaries along the sides. The place was dark, but a motion light illuminated the paved driveway as she pulled up and parked. Henry pulled a set of keys from his pocket and exited the vehicle. He waited for her to catch up, breath turning to vapour in the crisp night air.

"Care to explain what we're doing at some random house?" She asked.

Henry took her hand and guided her toward the front door. In the dark, she sailed by the realtor's sign and stepped onto the first stone slab leading to the front door. She watched Henry fiddle with a key, shove it into the lock and turn the handle. The door opened with a whoosh, the scent of fresh paint and lacquered wood spilling out of the massive wooden door. Henry hit a switch, and fractals of light exploded from a chandelier on high in the foyer.

"Check this out. It's so open in the center, you could drive a truck through to the backyard. And the kitchen! Oh, you gotta see the kitchen. It's lovely," Henry said as he grabbed her hand and led her through the house. "All stainless steel and marble. The island is bigger than our bed! And come this way, down here."

They journeyed down an echoing hall, footsteps casting off the hardwood floors and glass light fixtures. Henry threw open a door and ushered her inside a furnished bedroom. A sleigh bed domineered the far end of the room, all dark wood, plush duvet and pillows.

"I know you're not keen on beige, which is fine. We'll paint it. But, look at this bed! And this window overlooks the backyard—Well, I wouldn't say 'yard.' It's more of a...field. Look, look, look!"

"Henry, what is this?" She asked, peering out the window at the blackness beyond the dim orange halo of the bedroom light.

When she turned back around, Henry placed his hands on her hips, excitement simmering. He smiled, wry and lustful, and bent down to kiss her.

"Isn't it obvious? This is our house."

"What are you saying?" She gasped. "You bought this place?"

"Mhm. I've had my eye on it for a long time."

"And just how long exactly were you planning on keeping this a secret?"

"Only until I bought it."

"Henry!"

He jingled the keys in his pocket. "Well, you can't just walk into a place that's not yours."

Suddenly, she realized Henry had put this in motion weeks before, masked it under the search for a new office building. Realtors had rung Henry's phone off the hook, and she had answered them all, oblivious to his underlying motive. When it clicked, she dropped her jaw and swatted him playfully.

"I can't believe you. Right under my nose!"

"It was good timing."

"But...why? What's wrong with the condo?"

Henry guided her to the room's centre beneath the carnival glass light fixture that had to go, along with the drab paint job. "Nothing is wrong with the condo. It's just not ours. There are too many memories preventing me from letting go of the past. I want to let it all go, but I can't when I look around and remember where I was just a year and a half ago. It served me well as a place to escape, but now, I don't need to hide. I want new memories. I want to walk outside with my coffee and see you in the backyard, doing whatever you want—gardening, reading, lounging. I want to pull up after a long day at work, see this place, and know that you're inside, all of our things, our memories, our smells."

"And what if I hate it?" She asked, stifling a giggle.

"Then I'll sell it, and we'll find a new place."

"I don't hate it, Henry, but...This was such a risk."

"It paid off. I knew you'd like it. It's the perfect combination of vintage and modern. The structure is old and strong, but the renovations give it that modern class. It's like that chalet we stayed at in Sweden. Remember?"

"Of course, I remember. We didn't leave bed for two days."

Henry smiled fondly at the memory and stroked her hair back, smiling with her in his arms. She laid her cheek on his chest and breathed in a contented sigh.

"There are two offices, one for me and one for you. Two other bedrooms. One for guests and one for a kid."

She looked up at him, and all the playfulness fled from his eyes. He kissed her to avoid the inevitable questions. When will we see a doctor? What is the plan if we can't conceive? They didn't need answers, only trust that whatever battles stretched on, they would meet them hand-in-hand.

"I can't wait," she whispered. "I love you. And I love this house."

"There's one more thing," Henry cleared his throat and stepped away from her. "It's kind of important."

"What is it?"

"I'm old, babe."

"Henry, you're not that old."

"I'm an old man. I'm head of a multi-national company, y'know. I wear suits and talk to people who hemorrhage money day in and day out. I like to style myself as a professional."

She cocked her head, wondering where Henry was going with his monologue.

"It's awkward when people ask me about you, and I have to refer to you as my girlfriend. Guys like me aren't supposed to have girlfriends. It just sounds creepy. Plus, you're so much more to me than that. You're not my girlfriend; you're the love of my life. My soulmate. My queen. I want you to be my partner."

"Henry—"

He cut her off and fetched something from the table next to the bed. When he rejoined her in the middle of the room, he bent at the knee and presented her with the ring box she had already seen, yet she fluttered as though it was the first time.

"Baby... I could have flown you to a tropical island or put this in a glass of champagne. I could have done this in front of everyone at the party tonight, but all of that seemed silly. Don't get me wrong, I still want to take you to every corner of the world and give you all the nicest things, but I wanted to propose to you in our house, just you and me. So... Will you quit being my girlfriend and become my wife instead?"

Henry separated her ring finger from the rest and slid the band down to the knuckle as she blotted her sobs with the other hand, nodding and fighting joyful tears.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" She asked as he rose to his feet and clamped her in a bone-cracking hug.

"I know I'm clever! You thought I would propose to you in front of all those people? No way."

"You hate being the center of attention."

"That's right. And although I want to shout it from the rooftops, I thought you'd prefer me asking you to marry me someplace quiet."

She gazed at the stone glittering on her finger, and a fresh wash of tears wet her cheeks. "I'm marrying you... You're going to be my husband."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to skip fiance altogether and get right to the wife thing."

"You're my husband."

"You're my wife!"

"We're getting married!"

"That's right," Henry beamed. "And we move in next month."

Breathless, she ripped her eyes off the ring and looked up at the man who gave it to her. She threw her arms around his neck, pressed her face into the column of his throat and breathed in the scent of old hotels, of pastry and coffee and drying ink on newspaper. She had a vision of him seated at a table across the room, smiling in her direction, tapping his silver pen on the spine of his planner. Two eyes, one green and one brown, drinking her in like fine wine, full of secrets and passion, indulgence and guilt. Her good Christian boy who was anything but pure or chaste.

"I'll worship you until I die, you know that, right?"

"Henry, I can't. You're making me cry. There's probably mascara all over my face!"

"I don't care," he pressed the words to her temple, swaying in languid step. "You'll never be rid of me. Think about that."

"I believe you, Henry."

His eyes flooded and no amount of squeezing suffocated the tears. The streams met the cuff of his suit jacket. He questioned why he still wore the suit and slipped out of it as her hand tugged his tie. Leash in hand, she pulled his face to her level and touched the tears coasting his cheeks, brushed her thumb over the scar two inches from the lips she kissed.

"Are you sure you want to marry me?"

"Shut up."

"I'm serious."

"And I'm telling you to shut up, Henry. Don't ask those kinds of questions."

"I just can't believe you're mine."

"That's right. So stop wondering if I'll change my mind. I've had many opportunities to reconsider. I stuck it out through times I should have walked out, and now we're standing in this gigantic house, and there's a ring on my finger... And you still think I'll back out?"

"I hope not. You're everything I've wanted my whole life. I have it all. Now I can spend the rest of it happy."

"I love you," she whispered against his bottom lip.

Henry crouched, circled her hips with his arms and carried her to the bed, murmuring, "I love you, too, baby. So much."

"Are we gonna fuck right here?"

"Right here, right now," said Henry, perching her on the bed so he could work open the buttons of his dress shirt. She lifted her legs, slipped off her heels, then wrestled her blouse off. The struggle to undress ended with their tops off, Henry standing with his knees pressed into the plush mattress, between her legs. He ran his hands up and down her thighs, nylon sighing between skin as he stroked.

"I didn't think I'd make it out of the office without fucking you. Gosh, you looked so good in that outfit. All those guys were looking at you... Especially when you dropped your phone and bent over to pick it up. That fabric stretching over your ass. You should've seen 'em staring."

"You think they're jealous of you?" She asked as Henry bunched her skirt around her hips, revealing satin and lace panties pasted to her crotch with arousal. His palm traversed her thigh, paused at the edge of the panties. He sent out two fingers to stroke the stitching along her groin, satin running like water across the tips. Henry wanted to take his time, but she was restless. He subdued her with a kiss.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm in control tonight, and I want to feel and lick and taste every inch of your body before I even get my pants off, understand?"

She returned his sly look and rolled onto her stomach, parting her legs so he could admire the shiny material ruched between her cheeks.

"To answer your question... Yes. Of course, they're jealous."

"Oh, yeah? How do you know?"

Henry snickered, like a bully cornering his prey. "Those old bastards can't keep their mouths shut. Even when you were my employee, they'd hound me for details... Ask if you were single, if I was tapping you, if I'd thought about it. I'm not one to boast, but they all knew. Henry Deaver doesn't kiss and tell, but then you'd come in and smile at me like just an hour before I was balls-deep in your pussy... Like my cum was still dripping down your thigh. They knew. We weren't as covert as we thought."

"It's that naughty little smile of yours that gives it away. You flashed me that same smile a few times at the hotel, and I just thought maybe you didn't realize how seductive you looked. But you know, don't you? You know what you do to me. How hard you can make me with just one look."

Henry lifted her leg over his shoulder and kissed her ankle as he squeezed the sole of her foot, admiring the coloured polish on her toenails peeking out of the semi-opaque stockings.

"I do enjoy getting you worked up, sir."

"Let's not tonight. I'm supposed to make love to you, not treat you like my office pet. I'm marrying you, for fuck's sake."

"Then make love to your future wife. That doesn't mean I can't be your slut anymore."

"Oh, my God," Henry growled.

"Look at what I'm wearing for you. I know how much you love the way my pussy looks wearing this fabric. Thigh-high stockings aren't practical, but I figured you might fuck me in your office one last time, and I wanted to torment you."

"Not so predictable now, huh?"

She simpered and ran her toe in a line down his chest and didn't stop until she grazed his belt buckle. "Yeah, and you've been thinking about filling me up all night."

Henry grasped her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the bed to meet his groin. He gathered her up in his arms, pressing his entire weight on her frame as he kissed her desperately. When her legs grew weak, he clamped them around his hips and undulated. Hardness strained against her crotch, pulsing from the heat between her legs.

"You're right. I've been aching to fuck you. How long has it been? Gosh, this week has been so busy, I've hardly had any time alone with you. And you've been occupied with your new job. It's been a while since I've come."

She made a coo of sympathy. "Aw, my poor baby. You're probably so sensitive."

"I want you to do something for me," Henry muttered, adjusting his crotch, then giving up and undoing his belt and pants altogether. "I'd love it if you sucked my cock."

"Oh, Mr. Deaver asking for a blowjob? A rare sound to my ears."

He shook his head, grabbed her hand and pulled her off the bed to kneel on the floor. With feet spread wide, his fingers tangled in her hair, Henry waited for her to make the first move. His view of her from on high was angelic. In the prismatic light, her eyes twinkled, and he thought of whiskey in a glass, poured by a dangerous woman he'd grown to admire. She always wore a smile, but for the right person, that smile turned luscious and dim. Her eyes would relax on him, soothe him, delight if he made small conversation instead of only demands.

Henry did not demand, but as her smiling lips tightened around the midway-point of his cock and sank, he couldn't help aiding the way to her throat with one firm thrust. "Oh... Oh, Jesus fucking Christ," he droned.

"You can use my mouth, sir."

"Just suck that dick like a good girl. Do your magic on me, baby."

With free reign, she slathered his shaft with her tongue, side-to-side, up and down. She met his eyes and smiled, the tip nestled between her puckered lips. Her grasp on the base sent waves of hot blood pumping through the veins, filling him out entirely.

"I can't wait to feel this big cock pumping my pussy full of cum."

"Oh, I know, baby. We'll get there. For now, I need your mouth. All over me, please. Balls too. Come on... Eat that cock, you hungry little slut."

She chased Henry up on the bed where she could kneel between his legs in comfort. Henry enjoyed the position, too—back against a mound of pillows, his long legs spread to the lower corners of the bed, her crumpled form nestled between his thighs while her lips and tongue worked in a circuit on his length. He leaned his head back, arms thrown over the pillows. In this position, Henry bucked his hips a few times to touch his tip to her tonsils. Each time she brought up a wave of saliva that coated him and made it easier for her to slide down.

"What about that ass, big boy?" She asked after popping up from a harsh series of head-bobbing. "I know how much you love it when I play with that pretty hole of yours."

Henry sucked air in through his teeth, chin dimpling and lashes fluttering. "Mmph, not tonight. I want that pussy. Yeah, I wanna taste you."

They flipped positions. Henry pulled her onto her back away and snatched one of the pillows to wedge under her tailbone. With both hands, he hooked the back of her knees and spread her thighs wide, elevating her pelvis until his breath stroked the front of her panties. Henry nipped the fabric, pulled it into a tent and let it snap back against her lips. He nuzzled it, faint stubble scratching the delicate fabric. She let out a gentle sigh, a whimper of lust. Henry kissed the satin once, twice harder, then a third time like he'd met her mouth in a fevered touch.

She watched his long fingers sneak the fabric away, how he made shapes with his mouth like he wanted to say something but lost his voice. Henry bit his lip, kissed where he knew her clit was hiding, then prodded her folds with a long lick. He repeated the motion on the right side, along her labia, and again on he left side.

For a while, he would only meet the crest of her entrance with light kisses and whispered promises.

"Do you like it when I tease your pussy? Giving you just enough to make you wet, but not as much as you need?"

"Henry, please," she begged.

"Please, what?"

"Please give me more!"

"More of this?" Henry asked, ghosting his breath over her clit.

"No more teasing."

"You sure?"

She clutched some of his hair and pouted. He chuckled, laid his cheek on her thigh and brought his hand up between her legs. "What if I'm not done teasing? What if I want to torment you a little longer?"

He spread open her lips, applying pressure on both sides. She could almost grind against his fingers if he didn't have her at his mercy, arched over a pillow, thighs splayed wide and vulnerable. Henry tapped her clit with three fingers, stippling with gooseflesh from the wet noises the pads made on her vulva. "Oh, I love that sound," he sang. "You're so wet for me."

"Please, sir. I need your mouth."

"Is that right? Well, you've been so good and helpful. I'm sure I can give you what you want... but you have to promise me something."

"Yes, yes, I will. Anything."

"Promise you'll tell me before you come?"

"Uh-huh. I promise."

"Okay, I trust you. Don't get too close. I have other plans for your pussy."

She groaned out loud, relieved when he finally licked her clit. His tongue was a warm blanket, weighted and placed perfectly on top. He undulated the muscle, coaxing out the sensitive parts for adoration. That's how she described his attention in her mind. When Henry ate her out, it was like he'd infiltrated her head and knew the precise amount of pressure, the proper motions, when to flicker his tongue and when to envelope her clit between his lips. He kissed, sucked, lapped and moaned like a symphony, only opening his eyes once in a while to catch her staring in awe between her legs.

"Mm, baby," Henry moaned against her slit. "I can feel you getting close already. Don't go over the edge."

"I'm sorry, you just look so good eating my pussy."

Henry pulled off her, smirking, letting her glimpse his full lips shining in their glory. She couldn't stop herself from lunging for him. The taste of her own fluid on his mouth set off a carnal urge to feel his cock too. She told him to fuck her hard, to spank her ass and make her squeal like a knifed animal. She wanted that deepness, the full stretch as his thighs bounced her up and down. They laid on their sides, and Henry entered her from behind, arm hooking her leg up so he could gaze over at her exposed breasts, her glistening clit forgotten for a moment too long. In his clutches, she was helpless, and Henry used his advantage to squeeze and rub her until more of her liquid soaked between their groins.

"Can you come like this?" Henry puffed next to her ear. "If I rub your clit like that and keep fucking you, can you come?"

"Yes," she peeped. "Yes, keep going."

"Yeah? Gonna come like a good girl all over this dick?"

Again, she nodded, biting down on her lip in concentration.

"'Cause I'm gonna shoot so much fucking cum inside you, but only after you get all tight around me."

She begged him not to stop, to never stop being hers. Henry rushed his movements until she bucked once, legs fighting to fold inward.

"Is that it? That spot right there?" Henry asked. "Keep rubbing you just like this?"

He didn't need an answer; it was written all over her flushed face, denting her lip where her teeth bore down. Henry exerted every inch of stamina he had in his body until her muscles seized hard enough to snap. Mewling as she came, Henry didn't stop pestering her clit with his fingertips or pull out after he emptied as deep inside as he could fit. He gathered her up in his arms, locking fingers and lips, breathing each other's air. Pieces of his hair clung to his sweat-dampened forehead while he pulsed and shivered.

"I need you to get your panties on right away. We can't leave a mess behind."

"Are you serious?"

Henry nodded his head, unperturbed by the alarm in her tone. "Well, it's not our stuff. It's staging furniture. I just convinced the realtor to let me surprise you tonight. She probably didn't think I'd be fucking you in any of the bedrooms."

"Henry! I'm not sure where you slung my underwear."

He pushed into her one last time and grunted. "Aw, honey, mm. That's where my cum belongs."

"You're such a bad man," she giggled.

"I know I'm dirty."

"Come on, husband. Help me find my clothes. We should get back before we both fall asleep and someone finds us like this."

They gathered themselves, sighing and stretching the tension from their muscles as they dressed and took one more look around the property. She saw the house in a warm light now, as a place they could fill with memories, starting in the master bedroom where Henry proposed. He held her hand as they drove to the condo and flung themselves into bed, drained from the night's givings but wrapped in each other's arms.

The next morning, she woke to the smell of pancakes cooking on a griddle. Henry was up, two coffees deep, and buzzing from cupboard to cabinet, humming under his breath. He lit up when he caught her motion in the corner of his eye and went in for a long hug.

"Good morning, wife."

"Morning, husband," she replied, cheeks and chest prickling.

"Pancake buffet?" Henry gestured at the kitchen island.

"It's not even Christmas!"

Henry scoffed. "Who needs a special occasion to have a pancake buffet?

"I suppose I can't complain," she said.

She sat at the island, studying the foreign object around her ring finger every once in a while. When she made a fist or spread her hand, the rock sparkled and delighted her eyes. Henry caught her staring at the ring and smiling as he launched into the day's trajectory, his plan falling on deafened ears.

"Hello?" Henry waved the spatula. "Are you home?"

She sat up straight and folded her hands. "Yes. Sorry. I was distracted."

"I was saying I have to go into the office today, but only for an hour or two. Are you okay with hanging around here by yourself while I take the car? Can you believe the Beamer is still in the shop? They say take the damn thing into the dealership, we'll fix it up for free, but we'll keep it for half the week."

"Oh, well, I was supposed to pick up groceries, but I can wait."

Henry's eyebrows popped up. "Oh, no. No, no, honey. That's all right. I'll find another way there."

"Why don't I drive you to the office? Unless...You're not actually going to the office?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Henry asked.

"I don't know...You could be exacting another one of your famous covert plans and covering it up by saying you're going to the office. How do I know?'

Henry tipped his head back and laughed as he tended the food sizzling on the stovetop. "Oh, sweetheart. No. I promise, no more tricks for a while."

"Sure," she said with a sly edge on her tongue.

"You can drop me off and take the car. It's nothing secretive, I swear."

Henry piled the last pancakes onto a plate, turned off the griddle and wiped the counter clear of flour and coconut flakes. They put together an extravagant array of dressed-up breakfast food, dousing their plates in maple syrup, chocolate chips and heart-shaped strawberries as they talked and sipped coffee. Henry sat across the island holding his hand out for her to touch every once in a while. He didn't need her to hold his hand, though, subconsciously, he always reached out for her in case she wanted to feel his skin.

The morning melted seamlessly into early afternoon, and the couple ventured from the condo after a quick round of energizing couch sex. Henry thumbed the ring on her finger as they walked onto the main floor from the elevator.

"Mr. Deaver and Madame, good morning!" Johnny, the concierge, greeted them.

Henry held up their conjoined hands. "It's Mr. and Mrs. Deaver from now on, Johnny."

The tall man behind the desk made a small gasp and bowed. "Apologies, Mr. and Mrs... Might I say congratulations to the happy couple?"

"You're the first to hear, officially," Henry said.

Johnny touched his enormous hand to his chest. "What an honour, sir. This position never loses its magic."

Henry twisted his mouth. "I have some other news, Johnny. My wife and I will be moving soon. We won't be seeing you every morning."

"Ah, that's all right, Mr. Deaver. Moving up and up, I hope?"

"Yes. It's a ranch house in the country. No neighbours."

"Beautiful. Well, I wish you both the very best and look forward to helping you out until moving day comes."

"Thanks, Johnny," she said with a smile.

Johnny rose his finger as they meant to leave. "One more thing. A package arrived for you, Mr. Deaver."

The concierge ducked under the desk with a set of keys and opened the security box dedicated to the Deaver property. He pulled out a bulging manila envelope and turned it over with a dutiful grin. When her eyes glanced at the writing on the front, a knot formed in her throat. Henry's name adorned the front in practiced, sweeping hand. Henry. Not Henry Deaver or Mr. Deaver. Just his name written in black ink with flourishes on the capital H and a hand-drawn filigree beneath. She watched his shoulders stiffen as he nodded to Johnny.

"Thank you, Johnny. We'll see you later."

She followed Henry to the parking garage, staring at the envelope in his hands. Henry looked ahead, his bright demeanour trampled upon by the object he carried. When they got into the vehicle, they looked at each other, then down at the package.

"What is that?" She asked.

"I think it's from Mary. That's her handwriting."

She swallowed the knot in her throat, but it had doubled in size and refused to budge. "What now? She's not supposed to bother us anymore."

"I know," Henry breathed. "I can't... You open it."

She tore into the envelope and pulled out a letter accompanied by a DVD in a flat jewel case and photocopies of ruled paper scrawled with notes. Henry nodded at the letter, signalling her to read it aloud.

"Dear Henry... I know there's little chance of getting a private audience with you now that we're legally separated, and the company is in the process of moving. You probably have your hands full and do not wish to hear from me either way. I understand your need to stay away, hence the letter and no phone call. What needs to be said cannot be summed up in a brief call, so I will try to keep this to a few pages.

I wanted to start off by apologizing. It's too late for apologies, and you must think I'm off my rocker to have even considered coming to you with this. Still, I'm not looking for acceptance, sympathy or anything but the need to fill you in on the blank spaces that must have driven you crazy over the last couple of years. The way I scorned you was wrong. A wife should respect her husband in all forms, and answer to him when he calls. I ignored you and purposely drove a wedge between us in order to distance myself from you and our collective failure.

By now, I'm sure your new girlfriend told you what I told her. It should come as no surprise that when I say "failure," I mean our inability to have a child.

When I received the news, and you were nowhere to be found, I felt the clutches of the Devil himself reaching for me. God does not make mistakes, which is how I know we were being punished for our sins, and since the results indicated you were the weaker factor, I can only assume the punishment was meant for you, and by extension, me. I know you have berated me in the past for my strong beliefs, but I cannot compromise my relationship with God for anyone's comfort. I know in my heart, his word is law, and if we couldn't produce a child, lying together would be straying down the path of temptation.

There were things you wanted me to do that I could not, in good conscience, provide for you—sex acts no married couple should have an interest in performing. If I'd have known of your devious tastes early on in our relationship, perhaps I wouldn't have married you. You resisted His word and acted on selfish impulse, spoke of wicked things with your colleagues, and Lord knows what other things I didn't catch wind of. I had to escape your sin yet remain your wife through the bad and the worse, as I pledged before God until death.

I do not judge you, as you are no longer my husband, and I know God will assess your choices in his divine eye. I don't have to worry about the unclean thoughts that live inside of you—they have no power over me; they aren't a reflection of my heavenly worth. If anything, I hope you are happy and have all the freedom one who strays from God can expect to have in this world. I pray for your soul each night and hope you do not meet the eternal fires.

I should have told you, but I was stricken with unbearable grief. I hated you. I fell out of love. I can't describe how, but I felt if I touched you, knowing what I knew then, God would punish me. Please understand everything I did, I did in the name of the Lord and with concern for my immortal soul. Call me selfish. I was and am, to this day, a selfish woman. But you were good to me, up until a certain point.

I cannot forgive your infidelity and can only pray you to seek repentance for your sin, though I will admit I did not care to make it right at the time. My silence was meant as punishment, but only God can dole penance, and in shutting you out, I acted in his name when I shouldn't have. I will spend the rest of my days begging His forgiveness and praying for you, Henry.

This package includes the evidence I've compiled of your cheating. You should know now I no longer seek vengeance. I simply want to scrub my life of all traces of you, and figured you might want to gaze upon your transgressions. Or throw them out. It's up to you now. Sincerely, Mary."

Henry was quiet for several minutes as he digested the contents of the letter. She found a pamphlet for the Evangelist Church of God among the pages and scowled.

"Wow, religion really makes people say some crazy stuff," she muttered, hoping to get a sound out of her fiance. Henry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He motioned for the letter and gave it a half-hearted scan before crumpling it in his fist.

"Fuck that woman. Fuck that life."

"Sounds like a story."

He puffed, scoffed, burned a hole into the letter written in Mary's graceful hand.

"But you don't have to tell me."

"She's right," Henry said. "I was different back then."

"I know you were."

"How come you've never asked?"

His question nipped the skin on the back of her arms. "The same reason I don't ask other people about their religion. That's their business. You were raised a certain way, but you changed. I know you were put in a cage, Henry. You made a mistake, but it's not the eternal damnation Mary says. Your marriage was practically over. Unless... You cheated before us?"

Henry whipped a look at her, gaping and wordless. She shrugged as a platitude and coughed over a laugh. "Well? How can I not suspect? Mary says you cheated, Frank says you didn't, but I don't trust either of them as far as I can throw them, Henry!"

"Look, I know!" Henry barked, and she pressed her back to the door. "You've gotta believe me, sweetheart. I'm trying to prove to you every day that I'm not this monster she wants me to be!"

"What's on these discs? They don't have labels. Am I going to watch this and find out something you don't want me to?"

His jaw set like he was about to explode. Air escaped his nostrils, and he glared forth at the wet cement wall beyond the hood of her car. Above, the building's pressure crushed out all sound, and Henry became aware of his breath, the tension in his windpipe.

"No. I don't know. I have no idea what's on those DVDs. If she got her private investigator to film me, it's probably just you and I making out in the car. What would be incriminating about that?"

"Did you lie to me that night in Paris?"

A dissonant, heavy silence fell over the man in the driver's seat. His skin turned sallow, and her eyes eclipsed to see the sickly guilt on his face.

"That night, you told me you left her. You said you asked for the divorce, and she just gave up. Was that a lie? Did you say that just to get me to go?"

Condemned by another bout of silence, Henry hid the colour of his ears behind hunched shoulders. "Baby, I was in love. I am in love with you. It's only ever been you! I needed you with me so bad. She knew we were done. She knew it. Divorce was not a foreign word."

"Just tell me straight. Did you put it in stone that night? When you flew me ten hours to Paris to be with you?"

"No. I didn't. I went home, said goodbye to her, she gave me the cold shoulder, I cursed, and she got angry with me. I told her I was finished, and then I left. Maybe I didn't flat out say I want a divorce, but it was implied."

"I'm curious to see what's on these discs," she said.

"Sweetheart, I will watch them with you, totally confident there's no evidence of me with any other woman."

"Good," she nodded. "Because you're mine. Maybe I'm the bad one for not caring. If you're bad, I'm worse. I don't give a fuck about you cheating on her, and this is the first time I've ever admitted it out loud. You're mine, Henry. You belong to me. She knew what she had and uses faith as an excuse for hiding a horrible secret from you!"

"Good Lord, I don't want to cry about this again," said Henry.

"Fuck it, Henry, just like you said. Fuck her and fuck the life you had. Your ass is mine now," she stuck her ring finger in the air. "Like, forever."

Henry pouted and melted into her lap. She quickly ran her hands through his hair as he moaned against her knee. "But what about our family?"

"We'll figure it out, babe. I promise. Until then, just keep shooting loads inside of me, and we'll see what happens."

He burst with laughter and lifted his rosy face to kiss her. "That's such a you thing to say in a time of crisis."

"I told you last night and back at the hotel... I'm with you. I'll back you in everything you do and make sure not a day goes by you wish you were somewhere else."

"I have absolutely no doubt of that, sweetheart. Goddamn it, I love you... Wifey," he giggled.

"But how hot would it be to have sex while watching DVDs of us hooking up in the Beamer and touching on patios and shit?"

"So hot. I've been thinking about it, and I've concluded it is very fucking hot."

"All right, hubby. Let's put this shit behind us forever and get busy getting married and having babies. We have places to go!"

"Yeah," Henry grabbed her hand and nodded. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

#henry deaver x mistress #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard fanfiction #castle rock fanfiction #henry deaver

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benevolent-savage · 3 years

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this is what happens when u enable me lets go

(spoilers ahoy)

Firstly, here’s some somewhat miscellaneous reasons that don’t contribute to any sort of narrative analysis but are still parts of the character I like.

His boss fight is my favorite in the game thus far. It’s not super hard, but it isn’t super easy either, and I even managed to solo it on my Balance after a few practice rounds. Sufficiently challenging without feeling unfair.

His boss fight music. It is a bop and a half, go give it a listen, my soul ascends from my body a few centimeters every time I hear it start up.

His voice. I’m sure it’s processed at least a little but gotdamn his voice is so deep and spooky it startled me when I first heard it. Very curious who his actor is; I think he and Inyanga Whitestripes share the same one. Either way, very well voiced and acted.

His design is very good. It’s the perfect mix of innocuous but also spooky sorcerer fella who knows some shit. And I was afraid that the designers would try and make him like. Handsome? Under the hood? To try and make him more sympathetic? But they didn’t and I’m glad for it.

With those out of the way, the next thing to establish, I guess: I don’t interpret Old Cob to be the main villain of arc 3, nor do I interpret Raven as such. They’re definitely antagonists, but they’re not the ultimate problem; the ultimate problem is their divorce, and how they keep dragging people into their bs. It’s established the Aethyr is a physical manifestation of their anger towards each other, and as it thins, communication between them becomes possible, as Sparck puts it in this thinly veiled metaphor toward the start of Empyrea part 2.

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But Cob’s still an antagonist and I love him so I’m gonna talk about that. Most of this is going to be talking about his motivations for doing what he does, since I don’t see him quite as the ‘likes to watch the world burn for the hell of it’ archetype that others might.

One of the reasons that drew me to his character is how legit his gripe is, when put in perspective. Old Cob- or Grandfather Spider, if you prefer- is not a mortal like the other antagonists of previous arcs, which establishes he has a different thought process right off the bat. This new universe was built on his suffering and he has a grudge against the ex wife who made it, so as a god, it makes some sense he’d try to destroy it and build one he would like better. He’s fully aware that what he is doing will hurt people but decidedly doesn’t care, and I appreciate that so much. He’s chaotic as fuck and he owns it, along with his superiority complex that’s as wide as the day is long.

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Yet his reasoning is like. Weirdly understandable? Like, if my ex-whatever put me in jail for a lifetime sentence and stole my kidney to pay for a new house or something, I too would go apeshit and want my fuckin kidney back. That’s mostly how I interpret his situation. He’s not doing this for hell of it, he’s doing it because he wants to get back at his ex because he’s bitter and petty and for the most part he knows this but he feels justified in doing do because she ripped out his goddamn kidney- I mean heart, and he wants that back.

And then, even after all that, he and his magic are treated as if they’re inherently evil. While, sure, Shadow is a ‘dark magic’, its actual properties aren’t anything malicious by itself. It is described as “a magic that changes reality,” and that’s it. Incredibly exploitable and you should practice caution while handling it, but used correctly it is powerful and helpful; this is likely alluding to the backlash mechanic, where likes decrease the percent of damage you take, dislikes increase the percent, and I imagine the person meant to be the literal embodiment of the magic in question to be similar in nature: not inherently harmful and lashes out if he feels he’s been mistreated.

Going off that, I’m not sure he ever wanted the FirstWorld to be destroyed, and therefore believes his incarceration to be entirely unjust; he doesn’t deny that he instigated the fight between the Titans, but when it comes to being accused of its actual destruction, he gets angry.

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...Okay the written text doesn’t really display how mad he got here, but he was like. Big Angy. Super offended. Honestly, a big part of why I love and analyze the hell out of his character comes from how his VA delivers his lines and his voice in general. If you haven’t heard it for some reason, I recommend looking it up. Anyway, here he’s basically saying he didn’t destroy the First World, and even if he did, he’s suffered enough punishment because of it, to my interpretation. The only one I remember blaming him for it is Raven; Bartleby was there, and I don’t recall him blaming anything other than the Titans for it. This is of course not accounting for the various changes made to the lore since he was introduced, but they could have easily thrown in a line like ‘And now Spider plans to destroy the Spiral the way he destroyed the FirstWorld!’ or something to make it clear it was done intentionally.

And this may very well be straying into headcanon territory here, but I think he holds positive relationships very closely to him, even if things went sour in the end; he clearly still has some remaining affection for the Titans, calling them ‘the children’ and being incredibly angry at Raven for forcing one of them to destroy his Heart.

When Rat loses in Polaris he shows up to praises his efforts and even comfort him, in his own weird way. He reprimanded Scorpion in Mirage, but it’s because Scorpion wasn’t doing what his dad asked him to and got his ass kicked as a result. As for Bat, every time they’re in the same room together he pays him some sort of compliment.

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Bat claims that he and his brothers are meant to be his tools, and to some extent that’s true, but he also genuinely cares about them, and it’s really interesting to see a villain defect from the usual ‘not caring about anyone other than themselves’ and openly show affection for his kids while still managing to be an incredible asshole.

In line with this is his relationship with the Wizard. There is, of course, a foundation of manipulation to their dynamic, at least to some degree. I thoroughly believe that Spider was overshadowing Coleridge, at least partly, so our character could bust him out of prison.

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And while this is happening, he regains some of his spent power and removes threats to it as well, namely Morganthe, using the Wizard’s help. In fact, I have very little doubt that he was at least partially responsible for her fall; his timing on that two-liner was too on the nose.

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But even with that, I think he genuinely treasures the Wizard’s help and company, which is why he attempts on four different occasions to either sway them to his side, or warn them away from what he’s doing.

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Boy, I want that vacation, but it’s your fault I’m here.

And then, of course, his relationship with Raven, something that is basically a summation of his character arc. Laden with baggage and tragic in concept, it is my belief that most of what he’s doing isn’t because he genuinely hates the Spiral or he wants to get back at her, but because he loved her and treasured their relationship; so upon her mistreating him, he lashed out at everything she’d made and detested it as a result. But only because he felt betrayed and hurt so he has to inflict that on other people because he is, as aforementioned, a petty and bitter old fuck.

Moving off that line of thinking, an admirable quality he possesses is how smart he is. This guy has so many wrinkles in his brain it must look like a raisin. Well, perhaps not ‘smart’ exactly, but how good he is at manipulating certain situations to his advantage. Like in Mirage; you just know that he was fully expecting Mellori to be there and fully planned to use her as a back up plan, or you could even argue that the whole debacle in Mirage was a ploy to get his hands on her, while having the added possible benefit of things actually working out.

Actually his scheme in Mirage was really interesting now that I think about it. His aim was to turn back time to when the FirstWorld was whole, further implying that he never wanted its destruction in the first place. It would also, of course, be a time where he had his Heart and would have the ability to avoid having it ripped out again. This would involve not having the Titans fight each other again, or at least not starting it and suffering the consequences. It would be everything he wanted to achieve knocked out in one go with minimal muss or fuss, compared to other methods. It’s probably a part of why he shows up personally to bargain with Eerkala and the Cabal, and why he directly intervenes in our Wizard’s efforts to stop him; it was too important to trust to any of his kids, so knowing Scorpion probably wouldn’t have been able to execute it anyway, he used his kid as a distraction for the most part.

I also like looking into the fact that his element, besides Shadow, is Storm, as opposed to pure Shadow or Death, as most major antagonists are. Storm is a school based on invention, experimentation and improvement. This is something that interests me for two reasons: one, the magic of major antagonists is always a part of their character, Malistaire the most blatantly, and two, because of this line he says in Mirage.

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To my interpretation, this would imply that he sees the Spiral as something that could be improved. And as a god, he would of course find it his obligation to try and fix this flaw. When he made the barter with the Cabal, I don’t doubt he was being at least partially honest about restoring the FirstWorld; it would certainly fix the flaw it has in the context of stealing his internal organs, but he would also probably seek to improve it, make it more suited to Shadow or something.

Something else I find intriguing is how weirdly honest he is; I don’t recall him ever lying to us once, unless you count omitting certain facts as lying. But that’s absolutely something I can see him using against people, like “I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t tell you, your fault for not asking ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ .” As said before, he;s really good at manipulating people and he weaponizes whatever he can; @that-wizard-oki made a really great post about how he uses conflicts- his fault or not- to his advantage, and does his own thing in the background without interruption, Mirage and Neumia probably being the best example of this, with Scorpion and the Cabal serving as distractions while he either carries out things himself or gives instructions.

To pull all of this together narratively, I think it’s important to consider this line from Mellori during one of their confrontations:

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He feels powerless, so he puffs up his god status. He has little power to fight with, compared to before, so he mostly manipulates and creates back-up plans while causing conflicts to serve as distractions. His love hurt him, so he lashes out at others and drags them into his problems.

You may ask, “But Sam, these are all bad qualities, why should we like him because of this?” And I would respond “Because it makes him a complex and interesting antagonist.” The kind of character that executes his shitty actions in such a way that you can’t help but respect- even just for the level of dramatics put in to it- while also having a motive that makes you stop and consider that maybe he has a point but is very much handling the situation the wrong way.

Like, c’mon, he ticks so many villain boxes. Tragic backstory? Check. Blatant thespian who owns it? Check. Gets his hands dirty before the climax of the story? Check. Smart/ manipulative/ has back-up plans? Check. Understandable, strong motives? Check.

He’s got layers. Like onion. I felt like there was always something new to discover about him, and for that I can assert my opinion that he’s one of the best characters in Wizard101.

lmao if you read this far into my simp-for-shithead post congrats. feel free to shoot me more asks on the subject bc i cant write persuasive-essay-esque format anymore my brain is rotting. if you will excuse me, im off to listen to the chronoverge combat track for the 82937487734th time

#i get that a lot of people havent gotten far enough into the game to meet him but I ENCOURAGE U TO TRY BC HE'S A GOOD AND FUN CHARACTER OKAY #i need more cob content >:U #wizard101 #w101

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thanksjro · 4 years

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More Than Meets the Eye #22- If You Don’t Love Thunderclash, Get Better Soon I Guess

One last issue before we reach Comic Event Hell.

Time to use a dead man to set up the rest of the nonsense that’s got to happen, because apparently 14 issues of setup, including six issues of literal prelude, wasn’t enough.

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The first bit of information we’re presented with is the fact that Chromedome and Swerve are on the opposite sides of the camera-shy scale. I guess that’s bound to happen when your spouse has had his video-cam literally connected to his brain for at least several thousand years.

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The art may look really gritty and hardcore here, but this is actually due to a filter Rewind has over all his footage that he’s neglected to take off, because it made all the wartime propaganda he would stuff into people’s heads all the more brutal-looking.

No, this is the style of our artist for this issue, James Raiz, who we’ll be seeing a fair bit of over the next several issues. Raiz has worked on the Transformers franchise over the course of multiple license-holders, as well as contributed to both Marvel and DC comics. He also works in special effects, including matte painting and VFX. That’s just neat.

Anyway, the reason Swerve’s completely frozen in place isn’t because Rewind switched out his head-mounted camera for a gun that goes off if it hears you make a self-deprecating joke, but rather because he’s conducting interviews with everyone in the main cast. We get all their introductions, Cyclonus makes a statement about his political stances, Drift sounds like he’s high as a kite, First Aid strikes a sassy pose while not being bitter in the slightest, and Ultra Magnus makes a move that would get him murdered on any given film set in the universe.

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You do NOT use your bare fucking hand to clean a camera lens, mister. Go get a microfiber cloth and try the fuck again, you complete and utter duffel bag of a creature.

We get a quick cut of the speech Rodimus made back in issue #1, with an angle that implies that Rewind was in the front row of the front row, then cut over to Rodimus asking Rewind to document their Capital-Q Quest. This is where we establish that this film doesn’t only contain footage from Rewind’s personal camera, but also that of the Lost Light’s security system.

Which feels like the sort of access you maybe wouldn’t want to give some nosy little film buff, especially when you have a secret giant serial killing sadist living in your basement like a disappointing adult child.

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See? He was given the job to record the adventures of the Lost Light not five minutes ago, and he’s already using his powers for evil. Eavesdropping evil. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, Rodimus, and you just handed it to the guy with a massive Dominus Ambus-shaped chip on his shoulder.

So Rewind’s got permission to film just about whatever he wants, and Rodimus figures it’ll be nonstop action from here to the finish line! Fights! Intrigue! Mild hijinks and peril! Explosions aplomb! Oh man, I can’t wait to see what kinds of crazy shit will happen on this absolute roller coaster of a Quest!

Smashcut to Swerve literally falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. Yeah, as it turns out, no quest, capital Q or not, is nonstop action. Which is good, honestly, because that kind of seems like it would be exhausting after the first week or so.

Swerve, Tailgate, and Rewind are discussing cool alt-modes, which seems like an odd topic, seeing as Tailgate and Swerve have basically the same situation going on there, leaving Rewind alone in the camp of “does not have wheels”.

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I worry about you sometimes, Rewind. Internalized Functionism is a very real problem. Uh, well, in your universe anyway. Us humans have to deal with regular ol’ classism and racism.

Rung gets brought up, and it’s revealed that the wheel on his back is almost purely cosmetic; it doesn’t even actually attach to his body. The lads decide that they’ve got nothing better to do, and set up a gentlemen’s wager- first one to figure out Rung’s whole deal gets 100 space-dollars.

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Throwing shit at people’s heads will be a major plot point in the climax of this comic series.

Swerve’s go at trying to win the bet involved tossing a grenade at Rung to hit him in the neural cluster, which is rumored to be able to force an involuntary mode change if done correctly. Obviously, it didn’t work this go around. Then our narrative focus switches over to the crew’s hobbies.

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You were listening to Prince, weren’t you, Magnus? Not even deep space is safe from the Cease and Desist.

Skids’ hobby is meeting new people, because he suffers from the terrible curse of being so fucking good at everything he tries, he always ends up dropping whatever he picked up, because what’s the point? This acts as a segue into another flashback, to even MORE bullshit that the fellas got roped into on Hedonia.

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These are the Stentarians. They’re like the Cybertronians, if they were better in every way.

And by “better”, I, of course, mean “more bloodthirsty, warmongering, and driven enough to make their civil war last about as long as the Jurassic Period”. Also, they’re all combiners by default, and Whirl seems a little TOO into their whole situation. So much so, in fact, that when the Imperial Guard of their race show up to kill them, he decides to do them a solid by single-handedly ending their entire war.

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You know, in most cases you’re supposed to show and not tell for visual media. This is way funnier, though, so it can be excused.

We jump back into the interviews, and Rewind’s just asked everyone if they’re happy. This might seem like an odd question, until you remember that everyone on-board this ship has crippling depression and PTSD, and Rewind’s married to one of the saddest motherfuckers to ever exist, so he probably has this question loaded into the proverbial chamber at any given moment. We won’t cover all of the answers here, because they’ll be more poignant to reflect back on later in the comic run, but let’s take a gander at the characters who’ve completed the first leg of their character arcs this season.

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Drift, is that perhaps… an honest expression of your inner thought processes happening right there? Has Rewind broken through your carefully crafted persona, if even for just a moment, with his question? Perish the thought!

Because Tailgate outed himself as being baby in issue #21, I have zero doubt he’s not exaggerating here. He was a janitor, then he fell in a hole and became Dirt-Nap Supreme for six million years; even the most boring day on the Lost Light’s got to be better than that.

And it’s nice to see Chromedome on a good day for once. Hopefully he reveled in it while he had the chance, because this interview takes place maybe a couple weeks before he fucks everything up big time and has to blow up his husband with a missile strike.

Getting back to the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode plotline, we see Rung using his backpack as a wheelbarrow- no idea what he’s actually pushing in the damned thing- and wearing the most disgruntled face I’ve seen him pull in a hot minute. Someone yells for him to come down the eerily unlit and sinister-looking hallway, which he does. Rung would not do well in a horror film.

He winds up at Swerve’s, where Tailgate, Swerve, Brainstorm, and someone who is most likely Trailcutter, given the colors, are hanging out in their alt-modes. Tailgate’s ploy to find out Rung’s deal is to do what he does best- lie! They’re having an alt-mode party, and wouldn’t Rung like to join in? There are, of course, logistical issues with being a car in a bar, especially when your drink is on the table and your head is tucked up somewhere in your torso, but never mind all that! Let’s get crazy!

This doesn’t work either. Maybe we should cut out the middle man here and just get Rung drunk enough to agree to a wet alt-mode contest.

No, I don’t have any idea how that would work.

In our next vignette, Rodimus comes into the comms room, Rewind trailing behind him like a grim shadow of death, to see what the hell Blaster wants, other than just the hugest glass of water.

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Raiz’s work is very detailed, and you really feel the weight of these giant metal space robots, but everyone looks like they’ve been put through a food dehydrator.

We get a lot of build up to the character who’s about to be introduced, with a common opinion being shared amongst everyone- even Tailgate, who hates successful people like his life depends on it.

Lovely readers, put your hands together for the ideal male partner for Autobots, Decepticons, and Neutrals alike:

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A man with so much charisma and charm that only Rodimus could hate him, Thuderclash brings to IDW what everyone wishes Optimus Prime would, making our disappointing space dad even more mediocre by comparison. He fights for justice, and freedom, and the good of the universe- and he does it all while having a chronic medical condition that forces him to stay within a certain distance of his ship that is also a life-support machine, otherwise he will die. Despite his handicaps, Thunderclash seemingly brings to others what they need most, even if they don’t even realize that they needed it in the first place.

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He also, in this one scene, appeals to Drift’s religious sensibilities, does a secret best-friend dance with Ratchet (who he helped to pass his medical exams- yes, Ratchet), and congratulates Rodimus on his questing so far.

Thunderclash is one of those characters that everyone in-universe is supposed to love, and I completely buy it- because he’s completely genuine and humble about all of this the entire time.

Compare this to the last time Roberts wrote Thunderclash, in Eugenesis.

Where he was an ex-Decepticon.

And kind of an abrasive asshole.

And then he died.

Y’know, now that I think of it, Eugenesis Thunderclash and MTMTE Ambulon being basically the same character makes a whole lot of sense, even without the horrors of Roberts’ Twitter getting involved.

Thunderclash reveals that he, too, is on a quest to find the Knights of Cybertron, much to Rodimus’ chagrin. But first he needs the Lost Light to break out the jumper cables, and then for his second in command to stop threatening his life.

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Turns out, not everyone is as obvious as the Cybertronians with their naming conventions. Whirl assassinated the wrong folks; I’m sure the Galactic Council is utterly thrilled. Paddox wants to steal the quantum engine technology for the good of his people, so they can kick the ass of the up-and-coming Terradore leader.

Completely unaware of the situation unfolding here in the lab, Swerve is directing Rung towards the warm, loving aura of Thunderclash for another go at winning the gentlemen’s wager- through the power of lying about having friends, Swerve’s “agreed” to get Rung Thunderclash’s autograph, in exchange for getting to check that Rung’s transformation cog is still working. Then they bump into the nightmare currently unfolding. My, whoever will save us from this dreaded menace, who holds a gun to the head of the Autobots’ greatest warrior, confidant, friend, and perhaps even lover?

How about a bartender and a giant vape pen?

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Okay, so Rung doesn’t actually turn into a vape. It turns out that the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode is also a mystery to the man himself. Because Rung is old as shit, the Functionists got to see this bullshit for themselves, and ended up testing him over and over and over trying to figure it out, lest he prove to be a flaw in their fascist ideologies. Fun fact: fascists HATE it when people they’re trying to oppress don’t play to their expectations.

The Functionists were the ones who gave Rung his little wheelie backpack, to make him at least appear useful. This sort of treatment tends to warp one’s head a bit, which would explain why he’s bothered to keep it for so long- internalized functionism’s a real bitch.

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At least he’s not giving teenagers nicotine addictions under the guise of being somewhat better than cigarettes.

Back with Rodimus and Cybertron’s Autobot of the Year for 40,000 consecutive years, we get the unfortunate news that jump-starting Thunderclash’s ship is going to make the Quest go a bit slower for the Lost Light, much to Rodimus’ horror, though he does his best to put on a brave face; after all, that’s what heroes do, isn’t it?

It’s at this point that it’s revealed that “Little Victories” was being screened to all the Circle of Light members who didn’t get murdered or turned into Legislators on Luna 1, and man are these guys pissy. What was meant to be a recruitment video turned out to do just the opposite, because none of these guys want anything to do with what the Lost Light’s got going on.

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Too bad Rewind didn’t have time for a cleaner cut for showing. Maybe they could have at least snagged a couple of these guys to tag along.

As all of the Circle of Light leave the theatre to go call everyone’s favorite Autobot to see if he needs a more crew members, the film plays on behind Skids, back to the interviews, as everyone promises more adventures just waiting on the horizon.

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You’re not even on this trip anymore, you dork.

Chromedome gives us the title drop for the movie and issue, and we cut to Rewind organizing a group photo of all the interviewees.

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And then Rewind died horribly like a week later. Thus ends season one of More Than Meets the Eye!

While I’m here, I’d like to take the time to cover a little bit of cut content from this issue, a scene between Drift and Ratchet.

Drift, during his interview, recalls the time that Ratchet called him into his office for a very serious discussion about his/Pharma’s hands.

Yeah, turns out they’re haunted.

Well, no, not really, because this is a prank. But Drift doesn’t know that yet.

Ratchet demonstrates this hand-haunting by punching Drift in the face, as he screams damnation at Pharma’s ghost. Drift, because he is a spiritual man, knows exactly what to do to deal with this possession; he draws his sword and chops Ratchet’s hands off, then throws them out the airlock.

This, too, is a prank, not that Ratchet knows it right away, yelling at Drift that he’s crippled him.

Clearly, these two belong together.

This bit of cut script was lucky enough to have gotten drawn by the colorist for MTMTE Season 1, Josh Burcham. Burcham’s line art is iconic- you won’t mistake him for anyone else. It’s rough and angular, and honestly just very charming. I’m a sucker for this sort of style. If you want to see his adaptation of this chunk of script- and trust me, you do- the link’s right here:

https://dcjosh.tumblr.com/post/107665292031/its-done-the-mtmte-22-deleted-scene-in-all-its

#transformers #jro #mtmte #issue 22 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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legionofpotatoes · 3 years

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alright here’s ma thoughts on that flick I mentioned

we hatewatched a*my of the dead because we were CONVINCED “zombies in las vegas” would be an impossible concept to screw up, but in so assuming we obviously invoked a holy wager with the universe and got reminded, once again, that hoping for improvement from someone who’s dependably put out bad art is never a wise choice 😐

but we were honestly kinda roped in by the marketing??? and expected a goofy fast-paced flick with the odd traditional undead metaphor thrown in, framing some sort of relationship drama maybe or hell even nothing at all! we’d have taken pure indulgent storytelling, idk italian job with zombies in las vegas, I don’t know fucking anything but??? whatever this was???? spoilers below for it is time for One Of My Rants

I mean the main reason I really want to write all this and complain. this film here probably has the most unappealing cinematography I have ever experienced in my life and that is saying something. who the fuck signed off on that CONSTANT shallow-ass depth of field that imprisons your eyeline and turns every shot into bokeh paste???? and I mean every shot almost!!!! I promise if you think I am overreacting just throw a dart at the seek bar and watch twenty seconds from wherever it lands. it is horrifying to look at. at least it gave my girlfriend a good visual shorthand for what it’s like when I lose my glasses

why was sean spicer in this movie. did they pay him to be here. was sean spicer paid hollywood money for his scene in this film because fuck everyone who was involved in that decision

the legitimately baffling hints at the extraterrestrial origins of the infection that went absolutely nowhere and had no dramatic or plot-level bearing. we love to see the franchise sprouts fellas

yet another big budget waste of everything hiroyuki sanada has to offer. and bautista too I guess? I like him but man was this an odd career move

what was the crux of his conflict/resolution with his daughter btw. I understand it was rooted in miscommunication over their forms of grief irt mom but uhh… it was all rather clunky and didn’t land for me. I tried I really tried to buy in but something was wrong fundamentally with the groundwork there, it did not click and their catharsis felt unearned. I know there’s massive amounts of tragic baggage being projected there from the author so I’m not slapping any judgment down really;

but again it would be an easy thing to wave off if they just had a vibrant cast of lovable simpletons with good chemistry and the kinetic sense of plotting the trailers promised (and this premise never discounts good drama, either). but instead it was just two and a half (!) hours of meandering into situations the filmmaking instincts had no idea how to flow in and out of

to wit. I know talking about “bad pacing” is associated with armchair bullshit but consider the example of the scene were dieter does an out of nowhere little dance after childishly screaming but then still-killing a zombie, with the film framing this as a micro character triumph, and not a second later the bg soundtrack instantly fades into an orchestral score dramatizing a nearby mcguffin reveal, completely 180 degreeing the tone without a semblance of deft insert shot stitching or even I dont know a fucking jump cut maybe. now imagine this whiplash for 2.5 hrs uninterrupted

I will keep complaining about the length yeah because this was not a story requiring this much real estate to be told. Uhh in my humble and personal opinion, of course

[man sees zombie tiger] “this is crossing the line!” you can in fact write dialogue that is not utter nonsense that falls apart once you drill down its single fickle layer of referential meta winking. what line are you talking about. you have rules in this insane situation you’re in? total nitpick moment I know but it got burned in my brain for some reason. like a microcosm of the mismanaged dramatic instincts paired with weird writing that dots this movie. I am sure the director calls this either satire or genre deconstruction. I am SO sure

tumblr domino meme that goes from “dude getting sucked off while driving” to “entire las vegas literally nuked”

tig notaro is always great to see but once you know she’s been filmed as a separate greenscreen plate months after photography wrapped - cause she had to apparently replace some abusive asshole but that’s a whole other pig not worth fucking - it becomes impossible to unsee her odd detachment from everyone else in the movie lmao. it doesn’t really “ruin” anything on its lonesome but it is hard to unsee

why. was. sean. spicer. in. this. movie

a very simple key ingredient missing from fully turning lip service sympathy for main uruk hai dude into actual empathy that would generate meaningful conflict with hero family would be to spend a bit more time articulating what he internally wanted the most. because he was obviously trying to do something here with pointed agenda. a family, to have kids, build a caste system, save his wife’s head, return to his planet??? all of these could represent the bigger context in his psychology that spurred his vengeance but none of them are dramatically emphasized long enough for you to cheer him on. I’m not asking too much I promise. Articulating interiority of a mute character is pretty doable with deft cinema language, just gotta linger and hold a shot here and there for a few seconds, frame as his POV, donezo. I know this is also one of those like. “who cares” moments but the movie does, very evidently so, in making this guy an actual character. you can kinda piece it together and create a framework of sympathy for him, sure, but then again he ultimately becomes a foil to be killed and not defeated, so. Ehh whatever

quarantine zone stuff was not a wildly childish covid allegory quarantine zone stuff was not a wildly childish covid allegory quarantine zone stuff was n

the rooftop helicopter fakout at the end was such an ass-backwards, manufactured moment of what could be a simple setup/payoff it just pissed me off??? you gain nothing by giving sad dad five seconds of pointless crisis that flips right back to previous status quo ANYWAY, except for a weaksauce waste of runtime, which could be used instead to get inside notaro’s head and actually SHOW the remorse form as she took off, literally maybe even a frown playing on her face as she’s headed for safety right before we cut back to drax and the kid. just a simple-ass, minimal, momentary setup for what is the most basic filmmaking trick of creating macro catharsis moments. Just???? g o d if you can’t even land that shit why are you even doing any of this

that lil run final pam did was very very charming and super choreographed in a way that was the tiiiniest bit overdone

the whole intro with the simul-backstories and posing with family photos was just… oddly motivated. what was the goal? “here’s what we’re fighting for” vignettes? why? it’s not a functional setup in that vein. what was all that

also I am sorry if this is insensitive but the reasons most characters end up articulating to justify going back into the hell that destroyed their lives makes them sound seriously insane

I dont like complaining about CGI (honestly) but so much of it in modern movies can achieve higher fidelity if the animation is simply subdued. Do not overengineer and over-apply 2D cell methodologies and kinematics to each tiny twitch and movement in a hyper 3D model and I promise you. it will look a thousand times more natural. look at thanos in those last two movies. your rendering and detail are absolutely perfect with the tiger you just have to let stuff sit instead of constantly simulating swaying hair strands and firing off all facial muscles at once. great moment at one point where makeup zombie horse and CG zombie tiger are both in one shot together and just by unnecessary amounts of movement alone you can tell who doesn’t belong. again; detail, rendering, compositing, lighting, all picture-perfect; but y’all just gotta let the animation breathe sometimes, and chill it out

plot holes don’t really matter to me but it was kinda funny how lilly decided not to mention the enormous wrinkle in intel pertaining to an actual territorial tribe of intelligent zombies that require human offerings to let you pass, just so that reveal could play out in real time through the joyous punishment of the cartoonishly misogynistic dude

total chad move for mister uruk hai and final pam to rule from a rusted swimming pool complex

the ending with vanderohe oh my god. with the. cash stacks at the airport register. and specifically them working in his favor. that is literally something you do to get arrested under suspicion of theft. it was almost played for laughs and I respect that. coulda been goofier. make these movies goofy ya dorks

anyway, weird, weird movie. bad marketing. message unclear (something something sins of the father???), baffling editing instincts, literal worst-looking cinematography I ever laid eyes upon. Confidently dying on that last hill

#text #long post #aotd spoilers #aotd critical

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ft-dads-au · 3 years

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Spellbound - Chapter 3

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A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404

AO3 | Prev: Ch 2

Chapter 3

October 14, 2012

Ever since Sting had accepted his impulsive invitation to study for the upcoming midterms at his house, Rogue had felt like time had slowed to a crawl. Not even his gig in Clover the previous evening had done anything to curb that feeling. And now that the time had finally come, all his excitement seemed to have turned into an insecurity he wasn’t familiar with.

He knew that most of their time together would be spent studying for exams, but he couldn’t help the hope that something more might develop in the moments in between. It certainly didn’t hurt to make an effort. But what if his neatness drove Sting crazy? Or he managed to insult him somehow? Or Gods, what if he’d been reading the signals all wrong, and he ended up throwing himself at the guy only to find he wasn’t interested? He’d had plenty of chances to kiss him and had taken exactly zero of them.

He’d worked himself up the whole drive down to the University.

By the time Sting got into the car, Rogue was a tangle of nerves. They spent the ride home discussing which midterms they would be studying for and agreeing to relax for the remainder of the day before they got started. While the thought of starting off their week together with a lazy Sunday was precisely the type of thing he’d been hoping for, it also put pressure on him to have everything go right.

“Thanks again for letting me stay,” Sting huffed as he carried his duffel bag and oversized, filled to the brim backpack into the house, refusing Rogue’s offer to help.

“Yeah, no problem,” Rogue tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. Feeling suddenly shy and not wanting to show it, he led Sting to Gray’s old room so he could drop off his stuff.

Sting followed him, dumping his bags unceremoniously on the bed and looking around with curious eyes. “That’s your brother, right?” Sting asked, pointing at a family picture that was hanging on the wall. “I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

“You probably have. He’s been working as a model for a few years now.”

“He looks a lot like your dad,” Sting remarked before shifting his scrutiny to the collection of medals and trophies Gray had accumulated since he’d first started playing hockey.

“How about you? Do you have any siblings?” Rogue asked, scrambling for any conversation topic that might ease him out of his timidity.

“Nah, it’s just me. So, do you play too?” Sting eyed him with interest.

“For fun, but you won’t find any trophies in my room. That was Gray’s thing.” Rogue chuckled, “I just like to skate.”

When he was younger, he’d considered giving competitive figure skating a go. His dad had even supported the idea, spending hours building a rink in the backyard together with him and Gray so he wouldn’t have to drive them to the local one as often. It had been grueling work to get the hang of the moves, and while Rogue had been good at it, he’d eventually discovered things he loved more.

“I do have a nice keepsake from my hockey days, though,” he grinned, rubbing his finger over the scar that crossed the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, wow! That must have hurt,” Sting moved closer to examine his nose, wrapping him in the smell of that enticing cologne of which Rogue still hadn’t discovered the name. “Yeah...” Rogue answered absently, paying more attention to the way Sting’s lips moved when he spoke than he did to the words that came out. They were temptingly close. All he had to do was lean over and kiss them, but just when he’d been about to close the remaining gap between them, Sting had already moved away.

“Hey, you got anything to eat around here?” Sting asked, leaving Rogue to stare at him in confusion.

“Oh, right,” he blinked himself back to reality, “I put off grocery shopping until you got here, wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“Oh, that’s great! I’ve only been to the convenience store near the dorm. I can’t wait to see what a big Magnolian grocery store has to offer!”

“Well, at least one of us is excited,” Rogue muttered, amused at fielding question after question on a place he usually tried to avoid. It gave him an idea, though. That adage about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach could work to his advantage here.

True, he couldn’t cook worth a damn, but surely there must be something he could pull off to impress Sting. 0-0

The trip to the grocery store was certainly memorable. Sting had walked through every single aisle, oohing and aahing over items he’d never tried and piling them into their cart. Rogue had finally given up and gotten his own cart, not finding it in his heart to dampen Sting’s enthusiasm.

They’d also gotten plenty of looks from other shoppers, which Rogue had done his best to ignore. He hadn’t come up with any great ideas for dinner. Everything he’d considered seemed so involved. That was until he walked past the lobster tank and remembered how disappointed Sting had been when he hadn’t gotten to eat ”Sheldon” at that seafood restaurant.

He was pretty sure you just chucked the things into a pot of boiling water. Sounded easy enough to him. Feeling pleased with his choice, he studied the tank’s contents, searching for the two largest lobsters he could find, knowing both of them ate a lot.

Once he’d identified the ones he wanted, he went off in search of an employee.

0-0

Rogue had managed to keep the contents of the cooler a secret. It wasn’t all that difficult considering the amount of bags in the trunk. He was more concerned about where they were going to store all the food they’d bought. At least it was cold enough that they could leave the drinks out on the porch.

Not that he should have worried, Sting kept picking items out of the bags and shoving them in his mouth, making pleased noises that were driving Rogue crazy.

“Mhmmmmmm, these are amazing! Want some?” Sting waved a bag of onion-flavored rings under his nose.

Rogue grabbed a couple, realizing he hadn’t had them for years. “Oh man, I used to love these. I didn’t know they still made them.”

Sting finally noticed the cooler when it moved slightly from its perch on the counter. “What’s in there?”

“Oh, that?” Rogue replied evenly, feigning indifference, “Just something I picked up. I thought I might try cooking dinner tonight.”

Sting arched an eyebrow and promptly removed the lid, peering in at the contents. “You got lobsters?”

“Yeah, it seemed like you liked them,” Rogue shrugged, finding spots for the rest of the groceries.

“I do! My mom makes really good Lobster Thermidor.”

Well, fuck. What the hell was lobster...whatever Sting said? It sounded a lot fancier than Rogue’s idea of boiling the shits like a pack of instant-ramen, not to mention the fact that he’d set himself up to compete against Sting’s mother’s cooking. He didn’t know a thing about the woman, but he’d bet his life that she was a better cook than he was.

“Those are big fellas. Oh, wait,” Sting had picked up one of the lobsters to examine it, “I think this one might be a Sheila.”

“How can you tell?”

“Oh, uhm,” Sting chuckled, sounding embarrassed, “when I was younger, I wanted to be a marine biologist. My parents would take me to the aquarium whenever they could, and I learned a lot. Pretty lame, huh?”

“Not at all. I mean, if you want to talk lame, I wanted to be a figure skater at one point,” he confessed, encouraged by Sting sharing that with him. “So which one's Sheldon and which one's Sheila?”

Rogue listened with interest as Sting pointed at the tails’ subtle differences and revealed what they meant. Once the explanation was over, Sting glanced at the pot that sat on the stove.

“You’re going to need a larger pot to boil these.”

“Right.” Challenge number one, where the heck did his mom keep the big pots? Rogue opened the cabinets, searching for anything bigger than the one he used to boil pasta.

“I’ll be right back,” he went to the basement, remembering his mother sometimes sent him there to find appliances she didn’t use all the time, and heaving a sigh of relief when he saw a pot big enough to bathe in. Okay, maybe not quite that big, but it should be enough for two lobsters.

And while he was down there, he took the opportunity to do a quick google search on how to cook lobster thermostat. Thermidor. Whatever. It turned out that it would involve cooking as well as broiling, which was even worse than he’d imagined, and the long list of ingredients wasn’t exactly reassuring either. But it was that list that turned out to be his saving grace, as he was sure he didn’t have everything on it. Oh no, such a shame, he smirked to himself as he continued to look for a less intimidating lobster recipe.

“Everything okay down there?”

Crap!

“Yeah, found one,” Rogue called out, putting his phone away and lugging his discovery up the stairs.

He’d washed the pot, filling it with water and as much salt as he dared, and then setting it on the stove to boil. They’d talked about watching a movie after dinner, and Sting had left him in the kitchen while he’d gone to Gray’s room, determined to set up his work area, as he called it, for the next day.

And now, Rogue found himself facing his next challenge. Once the water had come to a rolling boil, he’d grabbed one of the lobsters, ready to plunge it into the pot, when he’d made one fatal mistake. He’d looked into its eyes.

No matter how much he told himself that the thing wasn’t intelligent, he just couldn’t find it in himself to kill it. And as he stared into the eyes of the crustacean he’d condemned to death, Rogue couldn’t help but think of how much simpler his life had been before he’d decided he wanted something more from his relationships.

“What are you doing?”

There was no mistaking the amusement in Sting’s voice, and it both irritated and humiliated him. It had been his bright idea to do this, and he couldn’t even go through with it.

‘“It was staring at me,” he murmured.

Sting chuckled but took pity on him, “Here, I’ll do it.”

He grabbed the lobster and asked for some scissors. He snipped the bands off its claws and lowered it into the pot carefully, repeating the procedure with the second one before placing the lid on the pot. There was an awful noise that followed, making it sound like the lobsters were screaming.

Rogue shuddered.

“Relax, it’s not what it sounds like,” Sting assured him, “Lobsters don’t have lungs or even vocal cords. It’s just air escaping through their shells.” “Whatever. The damn things better taste good,” Rogue pouted, still displeased by the way his plan was failing so far. But hey, the lobsters were boiling away now, and he’d found a cooking time table online, so there wasn’t much that could go wrong from here. “I guess that depends on the sauce or seasoning.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. His face must have mirrored his frustration because once again, he heard the sound of Sting’s laughter. “It doesn’t have to be anything complicated. Oh, actually! We got mac and cheese, right?”

“Mac and cheese? With lobster?”

“Yeah! My mom used to make that for me when I was little. Well, she made it from scratch,” Sting admitted, “but this will be good too!”

By this point, Rogue just wanted to be done with the whole thing, so the idea of at least being able to make something he knew he couldn’t fuck up cheered him immensely. He walked over to the pantry and moved stuff around until he’d found the family size box of mac and cheese they’d bought and set about preparing it.

The timer went off, and he watched as Sting used tongs to take out the lobsters, which had turned a promising shade of bright red. He lay them on a cutting board and let them sit while he searched for a knife.

Rogue turned away as the sounds of Sting removing the meat from the shell revolted him. He busied himself with his task, trying not to think about what was happening.

“Do I have to do anything differently?”

“Nope, just let me know when it’s ready.”

Sting walked to the porch, grabbed two beers, opened them, and handed one over to Rogue, that amused smirk never far from his face. Once the mac and cheese was done, all they had to do was add the lobster meat, top it off with some breadcrumbs, and put it in the oven for a few minutes. In the meantime, Rogue began the process of cleaning the kitchen, pulling a face as he dumped the hollowed out shells in the trash bin and wiped the lobster juices off the counter. Although it wasn’t all that fancy, the dish that came out looked better than any of Rogue’s previous attempts to cook his own food. Not that he felt he had much to be proud of, as he’d mostly just boiled water and made instant mac and cheese, but cooking was definitely a lot less frustrating when he didn’t have to do it alone. Maybe they could cook together again sometime this week, preferably with food that couldn’t scream, move or stare at him. They settled on the couch, and while Rogue was browsing through Netflix, looking for a movie they could watch, he could tell by the moaning sounds that Sting had already dug into his food. “It’s good!” he said with his mouth still half full, “but you know what the best part is?” “Hm?” Rogue took a hesitant first bite, and he had to agree it did taste a lot better than he’d expected. “It’s that from now on, every time I eat lobster, I’ll remember your look of horror.” Sting dissolved into giggles, “I should have taken a picture!”

Rogue tried to glare, but now that it was over, he found himself laughing along. “Alright, but I hope you got a good look cause I am never doing that again. Next time we do this, it’ll be at a restaurant.”

“Deal, as long as we stop at the tank first,” Sting laughed at his pout, and it was arguably the best sound Rogue had ever heard.

He sat back, having found a movie they were both interested in, and feeling more relaxed than he had all day. The realization that Sting hadn’t been against the idea of a next time boosted his confidence enough to let him enjoy the rest of the night and to set him thinking of what he might try next.

A/N: 2020 was a really busy year for us. We participated in a lot of events and as fun as that was we've decided to mostly step away from that for this year. Unfortunately trying to match event prompts kept us from moving forward on stories we'd been planning on for months and we'd like to try setting our own schedule for now.

We've started the year out with a Works in Progress month, in the hopes that we can finish or move along some of our open multis, or one-shots we started but never finished. It will also allow us to work on some of the individual projects we've been ignoring for too long.

We've decided to expand on this story a bit more than we'd originally planned so there will be a few more chapters than we'd anticipated. We hope you enjoy this one!

#fairy tail #ftdadsau #stingue #update #fics

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Surveys #417-419

Been slacking on posting these, so here’s like three surveys over the past few days divided up. I just don’t feel like posting them individually. Beware, it’s a long post, haha.

Do you believe that animals don’t have souls? I lean towards the idea that they, at least more complex species with actual sentience, do in some way. It's hard to imagine like, a fly having a soul, but it's a nice thought. You could NEVER convince me some don't, though, like my late dog Teddy, Sara's old chameleon Jem, and I could go on and on. Have you ever not been able to swallow pills? No, I've always been able to. If you HAD to change your first name, what would you change it to? Maybe like, Quinn. Something you don't hear a lot, for sure. Something more memorable. What are your thoughts on orange soda? Orange cream soda is BOMB. Man, been so long since I've had that stuff... Are you good with children and/or animals? Don't mean to brag, but people say I'm like a magician with animals. No matter what it is, I bond with it. Children, not so much. I'm awkward around them. Who in your life makes you smile the most? My cat, ha ha. If you were cremated, where would you want your ashes to be placed? Hm. Maybe high up in the mountains or in the Kalahari Desert. Do you plan on going to your high school’s reunion? No. I'm pretty sure I'd shatter from memories just entering the building. Would you want revenge on someone if they killed someone special to you? Or would you find it in your heart to forgive? "Forgive" my ass. They'd better get what's coming to them, even if I've gotta be the person to deliver it. Is there someone you are dying to see? More than I think anyone could possibly know. But it's probably better if I never do. Could you picture yourself getting married and having kids? Married, yes. Having kids, no. I could only picture that in one phase of my life, but like I called it: a phase. I should never be a mother, nor do I want to be one to begin with, so yeah, no kids for me. Do you like to take walks? If my legs were actually worth a shit, yes, I would, if it's in a nature-filled area. What are you listening to at this moment in time? "Thoughts & Prayers" by Motionless In White. Did you ever kiss someone with a tattoo? No. Could you say something good about the last person you kissed? She's very resilient. Why are you single? Because 1.) I'm a very unappealing example of an adult, 2.) I'm not exactly very attractive, and 3.) I'm basically a hermit, so I don't meet people. Do you get jealous if your boyfriend hugs another girl? Hypothetically, in almost any case, I wouldn't. My imaginary boyfriend can have female friends. But I'll admit if it was like, an ex-girlfriend or something and it was a seriously intense hug, I might. Is there something that happened in your past you hate talking about? Yes, but I mean, who doesn't. Have you ever been completely alone with a boy in his room? You make this sound so scandalous lmao. Yes, plenty of times. I dated a dude and briefly lived with him for three and a half years. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for? No. Who was the last person that you cried in front of? I'm sure it was Mom. Is it hard for you to be “just friends” with the opposite sex? Nah. Do you remember every single person that you’ve kissed? Yeah. Do you believe that the world will actually end? Humanity, oh yeah. The planet itself, given the infinite nature of the universe, also yes. At SOME point, even if it's zillions of years down the line, Earth is gonna get fucked by something. Are you socially awkward? I am the literal avatar of "socially awkward." Would you rather watch a comedy movie or horror movie? Horror. Who is your favorite actor/actress? MARK IS A FUCKIN' ACTOR, Y'ALL. Are you satisfied with your gender? Yeah. Are you good at admitting your problems? HA! Yeah. ezpz Have you ever had a hangover? No, never been drunk to begin with. Do you know any strippers? No. How many times have you dyed your hair? I ain't counting. What is something that reminds you of your childhood? Dinosaurs. Do you think you eat healthy? I try to. I have my bad days, though. Are you sick quite often or hardly at all? My immune system is the fucking MVP. I am just about never, ever sick. Has anyone suspected you of being a different sexuality? Yes. Do you like chocolate or vanilla cake more? Chocolate, duh. Does it bother you to have blood drawn or not so much? Nah, no biggie. Has your cell phone ever rung in class? Omg no, I woulda been mortified. Have you ever tried opening your eyes under water? Yeah, as a kid. Would you rather have a cat or a dog? I prefer cats. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? Like... six times, I wanna say. What would you say is your favorite type of flower? Orchids, but I also love dahlias. I've actually noticed that I've really had a greater "thing" for flowers lately. Like don't get me wrong, I've always loved flowers very much, but I've just found myself more drawn to them than usual, especially when taking the daily hour ride to the TMS office. Do you watch Toddlers and Tiaras? FUCK no. That show disgusts and angers me so much. If someone asked you to go to war today, what would you say? Yeah, no. Funny joke. I couldn't go anyway due to mental health issues and a suicidal history. Do you own an old vintage typewriter? We used to when I was little. I have no idea what happened to it, though?? Hell, maybe we still have it somewhere, but I doubt that. Do you like or hate the smell of fish? Ew, does ANYONE like the smell of fish??? Have you ever read any of John Green’s books? I got a few pages into The Fault in Our Stars, but stopped for no real reason. I didn't not like it or anything, I was just still in my "I don't read" episode. Are you a protective person? VERY. I'm a fucking guard dog over those I love most. Are you a fan of penguins? Yeah, they're cute. I especially think emperor penguins are very majestic. Have you ever met your favorite author? I don’t have a favorite author. Did you get your mom or dad’s eyes? Neither's. I think my maternal grandpa had blue eyes, though? I'm not sure at all, though. When was the last time someone bought you flowers? Not sure. Has there ever been a murder in your town? "A" murder? Thems is rookie numbers for my neck of the woods, fella. This place is known for crime, and that includes murder. When falling asleep, do you ever feel like you stopped breathing? Well, I have seriously severe sleep apnea, so... but the diagnosis came as a surprise to me, because I never DID think this. But sure enough, did a sleep study, and in just one hour's time, I stopped breathing like what, 30 times? What's the last thing that scared the hell out of you? Stupid drivers. Do you have any life-changing plans within the next 6 months? I guess getting a job could be pretty life-changing. As of right now, how do you feel about your future? I'm very, very scared. Who is the last person you ran into unexpectedly? Hm, I dunno. Where does your grandma live? Both of mine are dead, but my paternal grandmother lived in Michigan, while my maternal one technically lived in Florida, but stayed in New York with her son's family a whole lot. I don't really know where she stayed more. Do you know how to read music? Not anymore. Does the song you’re currently listening to remind you of anyone special? Not so much the song, but the band. Motionless In White is one of his all-time favorites, so I can't listen to them without thinking of Jason. Sucks because they've been becoming one of MY favorites, too, so I listen to them a lot. If the person who has hurt you the most, said they were in love with you, would you believe them? I'd tell him he was in a love with a person who no longer exists. It's impossible for him to be in love with me now when he doesn't know how much I've changed. If Facebook made you pay would you still use it? Ha, no. Have you ever been recorded on film without your permission? Not that I know of? Tell me about your last boyfriend? He's a wonderful person. He's been there for me without fail since we became friends in high school band, and he is SO fucking funny. He's always cared a lot about me, and I care a lot about him, just not in the same way he does me. He's like my big brother. Are your parents racist? My dad definitely is. What is your least favorite subject in school? Math and economics both sucked. Have you ever been involved in a custody battle before? Almost certain no. I'm pretty sure Dad didn't fight for custody at all, but it could've been something Mom just never told me. Have you ever babysat a newborn baby before? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I NEVER could. Do you have any siblings you neglect? .-. As a kid, did you ever go to camp? I went to Vacation Bible School, if that counts. Did your parents ever let you play in the pits of those multicolored balls? Yeah, until that big news story about a dirty needle pricking a child. Have any of your siblings ever had a crush on your significant other? Not to my knowledge. I highly doubt it. What do you usually order at Taco Bell, if you go there? Cheese quesadilla with fiesta potatoes. Rarely a pair of those cinnamon ball thingies. Ever consider a sex change? Nah. Do you eat whip cream straight out of the can? EW no. I hate the texture of whipped cream. What do you think of popcorn? Loooove. Have you ever dated any of your friends’ ex? No. Well, it's funny, Rachel (both Juan's and Jason's ex) and I are friends now, but definitely weren't at the time of us being together. Have you ever gone out with someone even though one of your friends liked that person first? If yes, did you feel bad? If no, were you tempted to? No. Would you rather be a rich musician, or a rich actor? Musician. What was the last charity you donated to? I don't recall. Did you like to collect frogspawn as a kid? I've told the "my friends and I saved hundreds of tadpoles" story enough times, so for this question, I'll just talk about when I would go fishing with Dad as a kid. Back then, if I got bored of actually fishing, I would walk along the riverbank and try to catch tadpoles and minnows in my hands. It was soooo fun to Kid Brittany. Do you walk fast or slow? I walk pretty damn slow. Can you juggle with more than two items? I can't juggle, period. Do you like jalapenos? Yeah! Do you like kiwis? Yessss, I love kiwi! Does anyone in your family go deer or bird hunting? Who is it anyway? I don't know if she still does, but my little sister used to go deer hunting with a friend.

Are you saving up for anything right now? What? Yeah, my pet snake's 40 gallon terrarium. What sort of things do you have bookmarked in your internet browser? It's quite diverse, but I think I mostly have templates for specific character profiles. Have you ever snuck in to a theater/dance/bar etc? No, I'm a good noodle. If given the chance, would you go to Ireland? Certainly! It's beautiful there. If you have a cat, does it ever “converse” with you? Oh, ABSOLUTELY. When I talk to him, he sure does try to answer me and it's the cutest thing, ha ha. Have you ever tried those electric toothbrushes? Yeah, that’s what I use. Has anyone told you that they wanted to marry you/were planning on it/etc? Yeah, guess he changed his mind. Name one of your ex’s mother’s names? Virginia. Does your favorite song have a meaning? BIG TIME. Have you ever written or received a suicide note? I've written one. .-. What is the worst thing a child has ever done to you while you were babysitting? When I was changing her diaper, she got up and ran around naked in the house. ;-; Do you own a nightgown? No. If you could get any pet right now, what would you get? i. want. my. tarantula. Have you ever actually been stuffed into a locker? No. That is just such a TV trope that I've never even heard of happening irl. Do you/did you decorate the inside of your locker at school with stuff? I only had a locker in middle school, and I believe I didn't. I didn't want one in HS. What’s the coolest thing you’ve made with Legos? I was never a Legos kid; I played with Lincoln Logs. Do you want to get pregnant right now? Fuck no, man. Or ever. Have you ever housed a friend for a long period of time because they had no place to live? No. If you have a favorite comedian, have they ever been in a movie? I don't have one, really. Are there any books you want to read? Besides the series I'm reading, I want to read The Testaments by Margaret Atwood, but idk if I'll ever get to it, really. If you have younger siblings, are you very protective of them? We don't have a close relationship, but I am nevertheless. If you have older siblings, are they very protective of you? Not really, it seems. First letter of the names of everyone you have kissed? J, T, D, S. Do you like going to school sports games? No, I hated it. When Ash was a cheerleader, Mom made me go, and I was never happy about it. Have you ever worn your boyfriend’s clothes? An ex-boyfriend's, yeah. Did you get into your mom’s makeup when you were a kid? I don't think I did? Do you want anything pierced? Ugh, a lot of places. The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner? I never do. Has your partner ever accused you of cheating when you actually didn’t? I've never been accused of cheating. Has anyone ever called you stuck-up? No. I'm quite the opposite. Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders? Too many, really. What are you doing this summer? Nada. Do you still watch MTV? I never did. Have you ever spent the night with the last person you kissed? Yes. What’s the dress code for your job? Do you like it? I'm unemployed. Does your job allow piercings or tattoos? ^, and this might sound stupid, but I wouldn't work at a job that didn't. Especially tattoos. No job is stopping me from doing things that improve my self-esteem and body image, particularly when I LOATHE my body. If a little bit of art makes me feel better about myself? Nobody is stopping me. What are some trends you dislike that everyone seems to love? "Crocs. Whyyyy?" <<<< THIS. First people hated them, now they love them??? They're hideous as shit. If you got married and then got divorced, would you want to re-marry? I don't really know. How often do you use lotion? Not NEARLY enough for someone with skin as dry as mine. Do you donate your old stuff to Goodwill? If so, what was the last thing you donated? Yeah. Mom recently brought some old toys, I think? How weight conscious are you? You have no fucking idea. Rent a movie or go see one in theaters? I prefer going to a theater. I enjoy the experience. What’s the biggest personality trait turn-off for a potential partner? Probably being an explosive/volatile person. I can't with that. Would you ever go on a birth control pill? I already am to regulate my period and tame the cramps. And if I was sexually active, I absolutely would want to be on it. What's your favorite late night tv show? I don’t have one. At high school do or did you participate in Spirit Week? No. Do you have a favorite vocalist? Who? Queen's Freddie Mercury will probably always top the list. If you have a favorite photographer, can you describe their work? I don't have a favorite photographer. Surprisingly. Are sex and sexual activities something you enjoy? If it's with someone I'm in love with and am in the mood, sure. What is one aspect of your life that did not turn out as you expected? I did NOT expect to reach 25 like... *gestures at self* this. What is one thing stopping you from becoming a veterinarian? I could never handle euthanizing pets and watching the families' hearts break. How long have you lived in the house you live in? Not even a year. Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder? I'm definitely sadder. Especially today. Do you like Subway? I do. Have you ever seen a volcano? No. Have you ever found a spider on your bed? Yes. It's the scariest shit when one skitters across your blanket, because like, you LEAST expect it to happen in the comfort of your own bed. Are you satisfied with the way your life is right now? Not even remotely, if I'm being honest. I'm at a real low. When was the last time you ate at Burger King? Years ago, when I was a vegetarian and went there for the veggie burger. How often do you cry? lol a lot Ever had a crush on a teacher? No. Can you wire a plug? ... I don't even know what you mean by "wire a plug," so obviously no lmfao. Where were you when you got your first period? Well I think I actually *started* at school, but I noticed when I got home. Can you drive? I mean I'm capable, but I'm an incredibly anxious, overly passive, and just generally terrified driver. I'm so scared of when I finally get new glasses and therefore a new permit... but I have to get used to driving. Living where I do, public transportation is very, very limited, and I just can't have people driving me places the rest of my life. Exercise or healthy eating? I sadly hate exercising SO much. I'd rather eat healthy. Did you play Red Rover when you were a child? Yeah. Are you more attracted to men or women? This can actually vary with time, which I originally thought was weird but is apparently normal for some bisexual individuals. There are spans where I feel more sexual attraction to men, and then other times women. Has anyone ever called you rich? God no, I am so far from it. What makes you feel beautiful? Nothing. Are you considered a very sensitive person? I'm way too sensitive for my own good. Have you ever told someone you never wanted to speak to them again? Yes, my dad. I regret that letter I sent him so, so much. I honestly don't know how he can treat me with so much love after the shit I said. If you could watch any TV series right now, what would it be? I am... astonishingly behind on Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty. I know, seriously incredible. I just don't watch TV, man. It's strange, I'm into the show, of course I am, I just... don't like sitting myself in front of a television and purely watching it. I'll catch up, though. Do you grind your teeth, and if so, why do you do it? No. But it's not like people have a reason they grind their teeth... they just do. Do you feel the need to rant about anything right now? If so, go for it. I could, but I'm not going to. It'll just upset me. Do you have a friend named Nick? What’s his favourite food? My sister's husband's name is Nick, but he is definitely not my friend. I can't stand his bigoted, sexist, misogynistic, homophobic, racist ass. I don't know or care what his favorite food is. What are you listening to? I'm re-watching Gab and Sinow play Resident Evil 5. People can say all they want about RE5, but I love it. Do you prefer waffles or pancakes? Waffles, but only if they're still soft enough to not be considered crunchy. I prefer them because I can put peanut butter on them, and the grooves catch the syrup instead of just absorbing it all like pancakes. Do you prefer non-diet or diet soda? I don't/can't drink diet sodas because the artificial sweetener gives me a KILLER headache. Are you craving anything right now? You guys have no idea how badly I want Taco Bell for whatever reason. Which word did you say first, mama or dada? The latter. What was your first pet’s name? So, there's three answers to this. I was born into the family while we had a collie named Trigger, but I have absolutely zero memory of her. She passed when I was too young. Our first family pet that I clearly remember was Chance, our rescued cat. My first *personal* pet was either a guinea pig named Squeak or Chinese water dragon named Shadow. I can't remember who came first. Who was your best friend in elementary? It changed with the years, but I can say the three biggies were Brianna, Kim, and Quiata. Who was your favorite teacher in high school? Probably Coach Collie. He was so wise, kind, funny... He was all-around just wonderful and taught so many life lessons. When you go to a restaurant, do you have a go-to dish? Always. What is the best part of your most ordinary day? Waking up and doing my first sweep of the Internet before I get bored outta my fucking senses. Do you read any web comics? No.

Do you drink bottled water? Yeah, but like any water, it has to be COLD. Not room temperature. Not a tad chilly. I mean cooooold. When did you last use a straw? Earlier. I have a metal straw I use to drink water with because I drink faster through a straw, and with it being water, of course I want to try to drink as much as I can when I actually choose to drink water. Have you ever tackled someone to the ground? No. Do you know anyone who lies to make themselves look more interesting? My former best friend did that. She was an online friend, so it made it easy. I finally caught on and called her out on it, and then she just totally dipped. Do you like to sing? Not that much, honestly. Like sometimes I feel like it, sure, but not frequently. Are your parents in good health? No, not really. Have you ever been a caregiver to a sick/disabled relative? No. I feel bad saying it, but I know I never could be. I could NOT clean another human being. It's one of the bajillion reasons I'm not having kids. Do you like to take naps during the day? "Like" isn't the right word. I just... need to. Most days, there is NO way I can make it 'til night without one. What movie was your favorite to see in the movie theater? Even though it was sincerely a sucky movie, I really enjoyed watching Silent Hill: Revelation because I saw the 3D version, plus the hype over my favorite franchise getting a new movie was just very exciting. Favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle character? I was never into that. Ever watched The Blair Witch Project? Yes, and I positively adore it. I genuinely think it's a genius horror movie, never showing, but telling through other methods. Have a favorite AC/DC song? Probably "You Shook Me All Night Long." Are you good at selling candy for those fundraiser things? Omg nooooo I HATED doing that shit, especially when some amount of sales were like, required for whatever bullshit reason. I hate hate hate advertising to people. My parents always bought them instead. Have you ever had a crush on someone too old for you? No. Well, besides James Hetfield, ha ha. What's your favorite Dr. Suess quote? I don't know enough quotes to have one. If you were to have wings, what would you want them to look like? Dark and dragon-esque with lots of rips and tears in them... but not enough to stop me from flying, ha ha. Have you ever broken up with someone to find you want them back later? No. Has anyone ever dared you to eat a chili pepper? Did you do it? No. Have you ever tried Thai food? No. Have you ever watched Avatar? The TV show, not the movie. I've seen I think one season with Sara so far? I actually quite enjoy it. What's your cellphone's signature for text? WOW this survey is ancient. If you smoke marijuana, what is your preferred or typical method? I don't smoke it. Do you often take painkillers? I dunno about "often," but headaches to the point I take something aren't rare for me. Do you wish you were in a relationship? I mean yes, but I know it's for the better I'm not. Have you ever been to the ER? Many times. Do you ever feel guilty eating meat? I feel extremely guilty. I try not to think about it. Where have you lived for the most part of your life? Eastern NC. How old are you? 25. What are you listening to at the moment? Powerwolf came out with a new album, so I've been bingeing the shit out of some songs, ha ha. Right now it's "Blood For Blood." Do you watch WWE Raw? Ew, no. I have NEVER gotten the appeal of wrestling. Just like... why????? Do you dye your hair? Nowhere near regularly. :/ I haven't had it dyed in a very long time, and I hate it. I love colored hair. We just can't afford that expense on something so little. My hair does NOT take dye easily, so we have to have a professional do it, and that isn't exactly cheap. Have you ever lived in a different country that the one you’re living in? No. Which of your parents will you see next? I live with my mother, so. Have you fallen asleep in school? Not in class, no. In college when I would be in the library between classes, though, I've dozed before. Have you ever been hospitalized? Yes, but not for physical issues. Do you make fun of obese people? You're talking to someone who is. So obviously no, and you're a piece of fucking shit if you do. Do you have an innie or an outtie? Innie. Have you ever tried to headbang? No. Even as a metalhead, I don't get it, man. You're asking for a headache. Do you own any Converse? What do you think of them? I have a few and like them. Have you ever started a rumor? No. Have you ever been in a position of authority? I mean, I'm an admin on two sites, so I guess? Were your ancestors royalty? Yeah, I'm related to one of the Queen Victorias, I believe. I just know she had a thing for beheading people, ha ha. What do you like on your pasta/noodles? Sauce, butter, grated cheese, etc.? Just tomato sauce and meatballs, really. Who is the most ungrateful person you know? What makes them this way? My fucking ex-best friend. You could never, ever give her enough and she just... blegh. She was so fucking ungrateful for everything people did for her. It was just never enough. Do you like cherry Pepsi? I like cherry Coke. I don't like Pepsi. Have you ever held an uncommon pet before (ex: mouse, spider, snake, lizard)? I've held snakes, rats, lizards, and a tarantula. Who did you last play truth or dare with? No clue. Have you ever camped out somewhere for an event the next day? No. When were you the saddest in your life? 2016. Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? No. If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? Yeah, they've moved out. What was the most unique pet you’ve owned? I'd probably say my champagne ball python. A lot of people don't even know ball python morphs exist, so seeing her might surprise some people. Do you like Doritos? Yeah. When you buy clothes, do you always try them on first? No, but I need to learn how to... I just HATE doing it. Have you used bugspray recently? No. Do you enjoy swimming in the ocean? Yesssss. Have you ever tried to sew or knit anything? No. Has something ever happened to you that seemed like it was from a movie? Most of Jason's and my relationship felt like one. Hence why the breakup felt so sudden and just impossible. Do you find yourself to be a believer in love at first sight? Not even remotely. Is there something you want to do, that you swear you will, no matter what? Spread Teddy's ashes in Yellowstone. I promised him. Are you longing for the day that you’ll be an adult? (If you’re not already) I am an adult, and it sucks. What’s something you’ve vowed to never eat? Any meat that was hunted. Have you ever owned a diary/journal with a lock and key? I don't believe so. When you were little, what movie did you watch over and over? Mostly Disney films, like The Lion King and Finding Nemo. Are you deathly allergic to anything? No. Do you know what you want for your dream house? Nope. I honestly don't really care about having a "dream" house to begin with. I just need one that's cozy to me and gets the job done. Have you ever seen the movie The Notebook? Many, many times. It's my favorite romance movie. Have you ever used the photo editing site “Picnik”? No, not to my memory. Has an animal ever taken a strong dislike to you? Our old dog Bentley didn't like me all that much, and I didn't like him, either. Have you ever attempted to cut your own hair? No. Do you have a lucky or special coin? No. Do you love ice cream cake more than normal cake? No. Do you check your email daily? No. Is there anyone you know who’s in any way paralyzed? No. For you, do you commonly feel more jealousy or envy? Envy. Do you rely on the heads/tails flipping of a coin sometimes for decisions? No. Has a laptop ever burned your legs? Yes, actually. For a while many years ago, my old laptop left subtle burn marks on my legs. Anyone’s birthday coming up soon? My nephew's is next month. Do you like Laffy Taffy? I doooo. Are your biceps at all noticeable? Ha, no. Have you ever seen a walrus? Maybe when I went to SeaWorld as a kid? Did you ever have one of those easy bake ovens as a kid? Yup. If given the opportunity, would you ride on a camel? Sure. What flavor cake do you like for your birthday? Red velvet. Have you ever had a job you loved? Nope. Have you ever been in a building that was on fire? Yikes, no. Have you ever written a poem for someone? Two people. Have you been best friends with someone of a different race? Yes. Who is the person you are closest to that you’ve met online? Sara. What was the name of the first porcelain doll you got? I was very afraid of dolls as a kid, so I obviously didn't have one. Do you sell any products? If so, what? I mean, I'm a wannabe photographer that sells my service. Owls or peacocks? Owls. Lions or horses? Lions. Can you still fit into kid’s clothes? Hell no. What devotional do you read, if any? None. What do you make wishes on? I only ever do for the tradition of it on my birthday. I don't believe in the magic of wishes, though. Have you ever made a recipe you found in a magazine? No. Are you bitter about anything? Probably always will be. Have you ever been in a love triangle? No. How bad are your hangovers? Never had one. Have you ever broken a bone? If so, what was the cause of it? Yes. It was identified as a fracture, but a break and a fracture are technically like the same thing, so. At a skating rink, I fell and landed on my hand so the top of it nearly touched my arm, so my wrist got FUCKED. I will never, ever forget the severity of the pins and needles feeling and just the experience in general. It hurt so goddamn bad. Is this the best year of your life? Fuck no.

#in other words i don't feel like thinking up song lyrics for three surveys at once lmao #survey #surveys #random questions

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that-one-guy-who-does-the-thing · 5 years

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everyone talkin about the king jumpin off the building at the end of fallen kingdom and how sad it is but everyone is forgetting the part from take back the night where the master villager guy was crushed by the spike flail. like fellas. the king survived. he survived the entire thing, but that master guy is like actually dead.

you know what? time to do a rundown on this original minecraft plus one parody series (take back the night, find the pieces, and dragonhearted are all original songs)

so first of all, let me point out something about fallen kingdom. people dont seem to notice it in the first listen and sometimes they never figure it out but the majority of it is actually a flashback. notice the king’s beard is longer in the night time scenes and everything’s broken. like, of course the king isn’t dead. how would he be walkin around after all that shit happened in the destruction if he was??? anyway, lets move on to something i spent too much time writing.

those songs introduced so many characters that are all unique but arent explored really at all (mostly because the songs dont tell much of a story. just the bare minimum because thats about as much as you can do with minecraft parodies.)

like the guard with the nose itch,

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these fellas

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and the archer

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like you cant really notice it while youre dancing and stuff but these guys are pretty cool to me. notice in the second image of the guard, his mustache is bigger. this shows that time has passed from the flashback on the left and the flashback on the right. it’s showing how the characters age. might just be me but that sort of thing really shows that these characters have lives. the pigs you can tell someone put effort into their designs and the archer you can kind of tell he’s confused and has seemingly never really had to shoot at anyone before

and then onto the more “subtley characterized” characters

the queen

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you can tell all the violence is too much for her. she cries as she watches her husband take the sword and go outside. other characters in reaction to the mobs simply grabbed weapons and fought back whereas the queen was just crying. granted we dont see many citizens fighting back against them at all but you get my point.

the three villagers from the search party

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you can tell the white and green ones are more experienced. the brown one seems jumpy, frightened, and confused. the white one silently grieves when the green one tells them that the mother is dead.

...and now onto the more heavily focused characters

the pig king

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surprisingly, the pig king isn’t really shown to do much other than sit around. they make it seem like he’s the one in charge of everything though. he’s important but he’s not shown as much. just wanted to get him out of the way cause this was a cool screenshot

the pig commander guy

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this guy just screams “cocky bastard”. literally every time he’s onscreen he either has a smirk or is reacting to something else. bonus for his little science man on the right. he doesn’t show up again (to my knowledge) but you can tell exactly what kind of character he is. we’ve all seen the “science man raises one finger as the boss ignores him” scene. anyway, back to the cocky guy.

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this scene really i think shows his character the best. mustache man here is cornered and afraid and resorts to crying and giving up. this pig guy mocks him for a second before raising his sword.

the trio from the beginning of find the pieces

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the chef is another character you can kind of get. like, he’s your basic “happy neighbor pal” or.. or just you know. “the buddy”. he’s sittin there cooking and he’s real happy about it until the hero bursts into the room and he drops the bowl. he takes a second to see who did it and when he sees the hero he laughs about it. like a “ha ha classic hero”. his expression on the bottom is a fading smile after the hero explains a dream he had. this is important for later so hold onto that.

the farmer.

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you can tell he’s just done with life. he’s living basically on autopilot at this point. he looks like he’d wear the “i really wish i weren’t here right now” pin. you can kind of see bored and “done with everyone’s shit” and maybe a bit of vague “nostalgia sadness” yknow? also, this is off-topic but this panel makes for a great meme template. go ahead and use it please thank you.

the scientist

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honestly? this guy doesnt have any characterization other than “i am the smart”. like he’s just the guy that gets the scroll off the shelf and tells the hero about the kingdom. but i do really like this character nonetheless. you really know exactly what kind of person he is because you’ve seen this kind of person so many times before.

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ok so. remember before when i was talking about the chef and told you to remember something? notice the colors of these three’s robes. these might be the same villagers from the search party. this could explain why the hero went to these three villagers and why the cook lost his smile when he heard the hero’s story and why the scientist had a map and knew about the kingdom. the farmer was the confused jumpy guy before but now it seems like nothing can phase him. this might be because he didnt really get to do anything and he wasn’t involved as much because he was just the backpack guy. ‘s also why he doesnt do much here either. that might be a stretch but idc man let me theorize.

also they show up again later

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the scientist is the one designing all the iron golems and planning where they patrol during the big fight scene in dragonhearted. the scene is set up in a way that makes it seem like he is crushed and killed by big robo pig herobrine. this is not the case though.

all three are seen later in the final scene. theyre not dead (thank god)

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anyway lets talk about the master

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sorry for the weird stretching btw i edited all this in paint from screenshots. anyway uhh so the master. you get a little bit of characterization here from him. a lot of these characters are stereotypes but that’s really expected considering this is a minecraft parody series. theres not a whole lot of talking you can do. this guy is literally the master guy in an action comedy. you can tell what kind of action comedy master you get from this scene alone. he makes the hero stew so he’s obviously a very caring master, and the following scene shows that he has a sense of humor, but hides it just to look cool. the moment he notices someone see him laughing he pretends it never happened. also a small detail here i wanna point out real quick. i love that the villagers can separate their arms here, but i ESPECIALLY love when they put them together. like, they dont always do it but they still do. i just love it. anyway...

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because of this and the fact that the hero and the master were pretty much the only two in the song for a while there, it actually stings when the master is killed. the hero’s reaction is DEFINITELY a factor in this too. this guy was like a second father to him and now this is the second father he’s lost. FUCK i love these songs SO MUCH. i wonder what it would be like if the master ever met the king

note: i didnt characterize the hero, the king, or herobrine given that they are the main main three characters. you can probably figure out their personalities on your own. (well, almost all of them. herobrine doesnt really have much of one other than “occasionally turns into a disney villain when he finds out the king took the eye out of the portal”)

anyway uh, another thing this series really does is just visuals. cool lookin scenes all over the place here.

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like look at this shit. especially the ones from dragonhearted. i think that picture of the golem was used everywhere for a short time and i dont blame them. its an epic shot and i love it.

...and i didnt even include the two classic scenes that you can visualize in your head at any moment

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these two moments are so fucking powerful you don’t understand. like look at these. god. shit, this is just.. hhhh i love this series so much. you know, sometimes i like to think of stupid theories... like imagine if revenge was actually part of this series. it has no effect on the story but it seems to follow the same “rules” (all characters are in hardcore mode is a big one). idk maybe they did happen in the same universe but steve is just a great ancestor to the king or something. anyway, thats all the energy i can spend on one post. it took an hour and a half to write this and grab the screenshots. feel free to add on to this list of things we all love about fallen kingdom and the others.

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#minecraft #mineblr #fallen kingdom #captainsparklez #take back the night #find the pieces #dragonhearted #minecraft parody #sorry im adding so many tags i just #hhhhh spent a while writing this and i'd love for people to see this #long post

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urlocalfrogmammy · 4 years

Text

i’ll see you at the movies—george luz

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inspired by

a dark night in a camp mackall cinema leads to george luz and y/n making a promise they intend to keep

tik tok pulled thru w this song. it just screams george luz at me. warnings: my love of vintage movies and film studies are really apparent. word count 1.3k of pure george luz floof

it was the march of 1943, and toccoa felt a lifetime ago. camp mackall was the closest thing to luxury you had experienced since before you'd left home, especially in comparison to fort benning. fort benning made toccoa feel like a spa holiday. thudding your kit onto the closest cot you could, you flung yourself onto it. "tired?" perconte asked, quirking a smile.

"you have no idea frank. no idea."

"hey guys!" hoobler rushed in, "you'll never guess what they've got! heated showers!" you couldn't help but grin at hoob's childlike wonder.

mackall had one thing that stood out the most to you, and your boyfriend. it had a cinema. your love of movies had bonded you with george luz from the first mention of john wayne. you'd spent hours together that night, chatting about movies and chain smoking in the PX tent. soon it became a weekly occurrence. the men all prayed to all that is holy that the pair of you would just admit you were in love. christmas day 1942, luz held a piece of mistletoe over your head (god knows where from) and you finally sealed lips. the relationship was open between the men, but you kept it discreet with the officers, god forbid sobel ever found out. the pair of you held back on the PDA and the officers would turn a blind eye to it.

even the food was better than anything in the other camps. the mess hall was busy with people enjoying it. "so fellas, and lady," skip always made an entrance, "how are we finding mackall?"

"it's better than benning." malarkey's opinion was muffled by the potato in his mouth.

"anything's better than benning. i never wanna see another frying pan again!" you laughed at george's reference and squeezed his knee under the table. he smiled at this affectionate gesture, placing his hand over yours. "it's got a cinema," you piped up, "i'm glad of that." the men all murmured an agreement, george especially. you were both beyond excited. now you could both could go see some movies, some fresh meat for the pair of you to dissect.

a few weeks passed. you'd practice field exercises, none of which had ended well. sobel trued his best, you'd give him that, but his best wasn't good enough. there was a universal feeling between enlisted men and officers alike. you wouldn't last five minutes out there with him in charge. finally you were lay on your cot, on your belly with your eyes closed, when you felt the mattress sink. two of luz's knees were straddling you and he leaned down. "they're playing a new movie tomorrow. it's got rita hayworth in it. and fred astaire."

"yeah?" you mumbled, too lazy to move now that you were nearly asleep.

"yeah." george kissed the shell of your ear.

"sounds good, baby." you lifted your head slightly and patted george's arm before thudding back down and enjoying the feeling of a bed. you couldn't help but smile as you felt him hop down, and crouch next to your bed. "not even a sneaky goodnight kiss?" he asked, fake pouting. you complied, pecking him on the lips and he grinned at you wildly. "sweet dreams, angel."

you spent a whole day training. jumps were getting more and more complicated, with rifles and other small arms. when you got back, however, that's when the real shock came. everyone was a victim. sobel had raided everything, and confiscated anything he considered contraband. the barracks were trashed, sheets turned over, footlockers open and emptied. all your letters were gone. sighing, you slammed the lid of your footlocker down and felt like screaming. "you too?" george asked, crouching down next to you.

"yeah. every single goddamn letter. how the fuck is that contraband?"

"sobel's... he likes asserting his power doesn't he? he can scream at us all he likes now, and it doesn't work. he's gotta find new tactics." you were on the verge of tears. "cmon. let's go outside huh?"

outside the barracks, you could slip behind them and gain a little privacy. you stood together, george's arm around your waist, smoking together in silence. he rubbed circles into your hips gently and you rested your head on his shoulder. "what's the film george?"

"you were never lovelier." he said, blowing smoke out of his mouth. smirking, he leaned down and crooned: "you are always lovely y/n!" you smacked his arm playfully, stroked his face, and gave him a peck on the lips. his warm brown eyes spoke of his love for you, without him having to open his mouth. "i'm sad he took away my letters." you nuzzled into his neck. "i miss home."

"we all do." there was nothing more george could say to comfort you, you knew that, so he instead pulled you into his chest for a hug.

the cinema was packed, but george managed to snag you both a seat at the back. you sat between him and sergeant lipton, he gave you a warm smile and a gentle hello as you sat down. george grasped you hand tightly in the dark. as the film started rolling, you could feel the excitement building up in you, and in george. you were a far cry happier than you were before you'd sat down.

"that was a good movie." bill lit up a cigarette and nodded in contentment.

"that was an amazing movie!" george smiled, arm over your shoulder.

"i'd kill to be as pretty as rita hayworth."

"aw, baby, you're a thousand times more beautiful that she could ever be!" george pinched your cheek and joe toye pretended to gag, asking you both to get a room.

"you're all just jealous because your girl isn't as smart as mine!"

bill chuckled, "she ain't that smart."

"oh yeah? y/n, baby, tell them about mr acuña."

"he is disgustingly misogynistic, manipulative, stubborn, and controlling!" you turned around and started to jump where you stood, "but film recognizes he is a problematic character, even if he never receives any kind of comeuppance for his terrible behavior! that's important! the film uses mr acuña to teach us that even if how we treat people doesn't lead to a punishment it doesn't mean it isn't wrong!" huffing after losing all your breath, you watched as the men started at you in amazement. "that's what i think anyway."

"that's my girl!" george shouted proudly.

the PX tent was where it really got good. both tipsy and excited, you and george were swinging round the dance floor singing the shorty george. “good people i'm telling you!"

"that the shorty george is the dance to do!" the pair of you started to wildly dance, you trying to tap dance like rita hayworth did, george tipping his garrison cap like fred astaire. the men cheered and clapped at this performance, finding it almost as amusing as the film itself. george swung you around and you squealed in utter delight. you were intoxicated, not by alcohol, but by george luz.

the alcohol did get to your heads though. stumbling down the dirt track, back to the barracks, you stopped to stare up at the sky. “what is it baby?” george slurred, grasping onto your jacket. “look! the stars! the cosmos! the world... it’s so big!” you laughed manically. george pulled you flush to him and grinned. “yeah, it is! one day baby... no listen... one day, when you come back to rhode island with me—”

“if i come back to—”

“when! baby this isn’t a negotiable. but i’m gonna take you to every damn cinema in the state! and... and... yeah!”

“and... i’ll kiss you in every one!” he leaned in and pulled you into a kiss. it was sloppy, but the love and affection you held for each other was poured into it. george’s hands rested on your cheeks, yours on his shoulders. “i love you.” those three words slipped out your mouth before you could stop them. george just pulled away properly and smiled. “i love you too baby.”

#band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #george luz #hbo war #band of brothers fanfic #george luz x reader #george luz x you #luz #luz x reader #luz x you

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saltine-kakyoin · 5 years

Note

🎶 and jotaro and also kakyoin AND another character..whoever u want ;)

oho… you’ve sent me another message? you know what comes next bro, u brought this upon yourself….this is us now man

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anyhow, AH. thos boys…god this one is gonna be so difficult because I have So Many Songs that are tied to them. as for the other character, i think i will do my boy sergio because i really need to share my brainstorming songs for him before i explode! :0 thank you again for sending these in, bro!! have a good night, ily! c:

this will be long bc i always ramble..i will be tagging this as long post for mobile gang!

Jotaro:

thom- i hate to start this off with a jotakak-themed song because i know some people Despise jk. i’m sorry for y’all who do, but ahh this song has been stuck in my head for days now! :’( In terms of the SDA, i always think of this song as like…jotaro’s bittersweet journey w his feelings for kak. it’s something about the like, ghostly windchimes in the beginning, the phone buzzing in the bg, and the “please don’t run away”s man, ahhh. I listen to this song a lot when brainstorming him coming to accept that friendship is as far as he and kak go. However,“ The pitter patter gave a rather rinse and lather feeling/ As opposed to shitty attitudes that made me bitter after laughter/ And I dearly regretted it” really makes me think of pt. 4 jotaro in any context. We only see the end result of his development from SDC, but like hhh… do you think he regrets being so gruff? I think of that 1 fanart where he’s looking at the group picture + hoping they knew he wasn’t annoyed by them (or something along those lines, i forget the exact line…ahh)

something’s missing- So, ofc not all parts of this song apply.. and truthfully, I listen to this song while thinking of the immediate period after the crusade in the SDA and how the crusaders are all left with this hole in them (..@kakyoin literally.. i’m sorry i had to. also, abdul is the hole). Out of all of them, though, I always think of Jotaro the most w this song- “My dad asks, ‘Were you okay out where you were stranded?’ How do I tell him that I wasn’t just okay… I was so much better?” LIKE DAMN THAT IS ONE (1) KUJO JOTARO… :( i think he comes back from the crusade and just feels.. severely misplaced. Going back to Japan and the girls following him to school every morning feels so alien to him.

tempest rhapsody- this song is just… *chef kiss* It makes me think of like. star platinum’s first manifestation, and of the emotions one would feel during a 50-day crusade to a place you’ve never been before, where you run the risk of death at least once a week…how would it feel to know if you got seriously injured in a fight, there would be a very real possibility that your *cough* dearly beloved *cough* mother could die? this song is my answer to that question

only in sleep- another choir song! i cannot help myself. This one is more for canon Jotaro. I’ve read a few fics about the universe reset where he’s reunited with the other crusaders one last time before everything becomes nil, and…..augh. “The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces, I met their eyes and found them mild — Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder, And for them am I too a child?“ is imo such a jotaro 4 am deliberation

softly- THIS. this was the Original jotakak song, no offense thom. i used to listen to this song on REPEAT while reading nessun dorma, ahhh. so much of the sda jotakak dynamic is shaped from that fic and this song, hghshg. Anyhow, now that I’ve worked on the development of their relationship in the sda, this song is most definitely a song for the jotaro who unknowingly pines in 3rd year and then comes to realize that ah…these are Emotions during uni. during their third year, jotaro and kakyoin do a ton of self-exploration, and spend more than one night floating in the pitch black void of the ocean talking about what they’re going to do after graduation with only the stars to accompany them. they lose this when jotaro goes to florida for uni + kakyoin paris, but they make up for it by calling each other all the time, so “Touch you softly I call you up late at night” made this song an instant hit in my book ghshghw. I adore this song, through and through. ;u;

post-published honorable mention bc i rediscovered him while i was workin on polnareff’s playlist!! DOLLY ZOOM is another really good song for pining jotaro. in the sda, he feels really Horrible about having a crush on kakyoin for a long time because he and his family (that is phrased weird, i am sorry) are the entire reason kakyoin got a hole punched right through his abdomen and spine. they’re the entire reason kakyoin spent months learning how to walk and use his legs again. he doesn’t do anything except bury his feelings because, to him, it’d be Really selfish to do otherwise. i listened to dolly zoom nonstop when i started writing Jotaro’s Decade-Long Yearn because it captures the guilt really well, ahh.

Kakyoin (it is 1:24 am as i’m starting this… let’s see how long i agonize over this part lmao)

ultraviolence- ahh, ze Mindworm Song. I really despise diokak and the fact that he had to spend like…3-4 months with the mindworm just chilling in his brain, but I can’t ignore the fact that he latched onto dio’s friendship and was initially elated to have that whole thing happen. It haunts Kakyoin in canon, and it Most Definitely haunts him in the SDA, and i think he and jotaro have a lot of conversations about how and why and what that whole experience was like. I always end up coming back to this song when brainstorming this year in the au. The beginning just sounds so lonely, and the background choir/ voices really give me the heebie jeebies. Then, there’s the build-up to the beat drop, which really make me think of like. what being mindwormed could feel like? And how it must feel to be so lost in that sauce that you become a passenger in your own mind, lost to the whim of one super manipulative vampire, augh. “You give me love, you know you give me love with your ultraviolet rays” ties into a few of FKA Twigs’ other songs where she sings about not being enough and really obsessively deriving love from someone whose attention is ultimately really harmful and unhealthy, and I think about that and Kakyoin a lot. :(

sound and color- so truthfully, this is my go-to song for any character that dies/almost dies and comes back, or goes through a Huge Life Change. kakyoin fits both of these bills to a T! this song makes me think of getting used to being around such a rowdy but tight-knit group of people who genuinely care about you All Day Long after spending your entire life in isolation. I always think of like, a happiness montage when the second half of this song comes around, and the montage i daydream about for kak during that section is *chef kiss* Sound + Color is like one of the best songs ever, and it’d be a crime to not have a kak setting for it.

first love/late spring- fellas, here’s the kakyoin equivalent to jotaro’s softly. this song was IT, back when the sergio-divergent au and the “All the Crusaders Live” au were two separate things. back then, kakyoin and jotaro’s realization that oh, fuck, they really meant the entire world to each other happened much earlier in the plot. Looking back on that now makes me squint, but I do think that this song is still really fitting for kakyoin exploring those feelings- friendship is one thing, but romance is something entirely different and a lot more intimate. i think it’s a tug-of-war for him, between wanting to jump in to those feelings and wanting to run far far away from them because he doesn’t want to be wrong and ruin their friendship. good times in the kak hole

last words of a shooting star- I really love the bastard fucker side of kakyoin that is explored and celebrated in our fanon, but I can never shake the fact that some of his last thoughts were of his parents (and i think he was sorry for making them worry? which… baby…) and that his polite, “outwardly anxious” presentation was this big facade for like.. the Deep and Soul-Wrenching loneliness he felt because he was a stand user? The first stanza and “They’ll never know how I’d stared at the dark in that room/ With no thoughts” make me think of kakyoin deeply- if his family had never gone to egypt and he’d never met dio or jotaro, what would have happened to him? Who would he be? i’ve always been super attached to that part of kak bc fundamentally… I Relate. but also i am just fond of it because it makes me sob- he deserved so much better than to get murdered by the same man who manipulated his entire identity right at the climax of his character arc….some crimes can never be forgiven, hirohiko….

vertigo- i don’t listen to this song for kak often, but it is a Quintessential Kakyoin song. according to khalid’s twitter, vertigo is a song about “Overcoming overthinking. After every dark days, there’s a brighter outcome. Being at a super low place in your life and realizing that, there’s other people going through that same path you’re walking down. There’s always light at the end of the tunnel. It’s also a story about fear of abandonment.” which….Big Kakyoin Energies. The “Are we alive?Or are we dreaming?” part also ties back into the Kakyoin Parties in a Coma for a Month arc- your mind has a wild wild time when you’re in a medically induced coma, theoretically because it’s trying to fill in the blanks for all of the stuff you’re sensing? And coming out of a medically induced coma is a bizarre experience, where it’s hard to tell if you’re still in the coma and just imagining things or if you’re actually awake. Kakyoin has a mad time in the month immediately after SDC, one that i’m sure he doesn’t enjoy too much after the death 13 fight.

honorable mention goes to i am not yours- this has been a kak song to me for a long time as well. the context of the song is way different from my interpretation for this setting, but AH. I just think kakyoin really struggles to differentiate and understand romantic feelings. This song really reminds me of that struggle, and I think also touches nicely on like. the identity issue of it all too.. “yet i am i, who long to be” yanno? ; J ; it’s hard for me to explain

another honorable mention, my statue sinking. in the sda, after the events in egpyt, kakyoin is thrown into a coma for like an entire month while his body gets operated back together, and then he spends months in physical therapy learning how to walk w a prosthetic spine (kudos to cyborg speedwagon being a reverse engineering madman :D). i like to imagine that there’s also some degree of therapy going on this whole time, also. you don’t just get donuted + thrown into a coma for a month without some counseling to get you back on your feet..i think the lasting effects of dio’s influence are addressed here, but only briefly because it’s not something kakyoin is eager to explore. however, I think that this song captures the like... distress? i guess? of knowing that your life has been irreparably thrown off course because of dio. like yes, you met some really wonderful people that helped you learn how deeply healing friendship could be! but also.. you lost months of your life to mind control, and then another month to a coma, and then additional months to training your body to function again....there’s some psychological stress there. While I think that Jotaro and Polnareff are affected the most by the crusade, I think they all emerge from it with some degree of ptsd. Being targeted by complete strangers at all times of day cannot be good for your mental health, you know? Anyhow, I think My Statue Sinking captures that aftermath feeling really well. Everyone survives and recovers from the crusade, but there’s a part in all of them that is lost to Egypt.

on to sergio!! (it is now 2:04 am lmaooooooo) sergio will be easy because I only ever listen to the same handful of songs when I’m writing him hdhgh

i will come to you- this is THE sergio song. i think of this song every time i write about him, whether it’s the “believe in me…” “also believe in me” lyric exchange that i imagine he has with both tomoko and holly; the “and i will pray to my father…my father…and he will abide” part being about him reaching out to joseph with his final breaths and spilling all of the beans about dio and begging him to finish things so that Tomoko and Josuke, the Kujos, and he and Suzi can be safe; the “foreeever……foreee-eever.. forever..” part being where he dies and his soul passes into the next realm.. “even the spirit of truth [golden prophet] whom the world [..yeah..] cannot receive, because it seeth him not [bc suad defects and buries sergio instead of bringing his dead body to dio]. Neither knoweth him, but you know him…for he dwelleth in you and he shall be in you [literally the entire joestar/kujo/higashikata family being so near and dear to him + his spirit being with them even after death]” and then, like.. george i, jonathan, and george ii coming to retrieve his soul during the “heeeee shallll beee in youuu” part… “i will not leave you comfortless. i Will Not leave.. You Comfortless… iiii wiiiill come…. to you.. to You” part being about his soul mingling within star platinum and crazy diamond because he has a Need, even in death, to protect them. UGH (also his essence being especially prevalent in crazy diamond, which is partially why its power is to repair things!! bc hamon! ; O ;) literally I have an Entire music video with sergio’s death set to this music. i’ve listened to it way too many times.

when david heard- so to be frank this is actually more of a joseph song, but it’s only a joseph song when sergio exists + gets murdered. :o i cried the first time i listened to this, and then months later i listened to it while thinking of sergio + like. sobbed fr fr. Joseph is asleep when Sergio calls him, so he gets sergio’s final message as a voicemail on his answering machine hours after the fact. the message itself is chilling because Joseph had no clue his son had gone on this huge mission by himself to kill Dio, and now he’s dead! however, it’s made even worse because Joseph wasn’t there to pick the call up and comfort his son in his dying breaths or do Anything. it’s just like Caesar, which is. god awful. it’s such a horrible realization because sergio, whom joseph named after what caesar wanted to name his own son, has been condemned to the same fate as his namesake. Thus this song- i’ve yet to come across a song that captures the feeling of hearing that kind of news so well. (also when i tag things as my sOOOOON or *cries my son in 8-part harmony a la whitacre*, this is the song i’m referencing :D)

zombies / terrified- ahhh, these songs capture the HORROR sergio feels upon sensing dio’s presence in Japan really well. (also “I’m going to eat you alive/please don’t find me rude, but i don’t eat fast food/ so don’t run too fast” is SUCH a dio mood…) Sergio maintains his composure about the Dio Dilemma for a good year before he flies off the handle, and his entire proto-crusade against the vampire is just. Laced with paranoia, even if he is learning a ton of useful skills. These two songs capture that feeling of something constantly watching/creeping up on you so well, and ever since i discovered them, I’ve listened to them for Sergio inspo.

the prophet- This is the only song I’ve done so far that the characters would actually listen to lmao. Sergio is a Huge fan of The Temptations, and his stand is actually named after this song! (+ the esoteric title for the hermit, which was really amazing luck on my end ; J ;) it also had a huge hand in figuring out what his stand power would be, the lyric that decided it was “God doesn’t listen to the words you pray; he hears what your heart has got to say.” However, the entire last stanza of the song ties really well into his character arc fhshgh. Also, this song just feels like it could Be the child of Bloody Stream, if that makes any sense. it’s so groovy and funky, but the lyrics are like big ominous lmao. I was super ecstatic to find this song- if sergio were to ever get an animation, this song would be the OP, yanno?

armageddon- This is another “this song would be on their personal playlist” song. Sergio’s got a lot of love for all styles of music in his heart, but jazz is his home base and always what he comes back to. I like to imagine that Lisa Lisa’s husband introduces Sergio to Wayne Shorter’s music at the age of like 8 or 9, and Sergio’s just. obsessed with the man’s music for the rest of his life. I really love Shorter’s explanation for the meaning of this song and its album as a whole: “What I’m trying to express here is a sense of judgment approaching - judgment for everything alive from the smallest ant to man. I know that the accepted meaning of ‘Armageddon’ is the last battle between good and evil - whatever it is. But my definition of the judgment to come is a period of total enlightenment in which we will discover what we are and why we’re here.” Like… wig.. I feel like that’s such big sergio energy. Armageddon itself also feels like a really nice ED- it’s lively, but in a good episode-ending kind of way. Do i dream of animating Sergio’s adventure one day? Mayhaps.

honorable mention goes to just my imagination/ my girl- We’ve covered that Sergio adores The Temptations, so it’s no secret that he would listen to these songs ceaselessly. however, i really like the broadway harmonies + instrumentals that they did for Ain’t Too Proud, so that’s what’s goin in here. these songs are THE tomoko/sergio songs…He loves Tomoko and the way she quips + teases + gets up to nonsense with him So Much. There’s a huge part of him that has No Idea what Tomoko sees in a music geek like him, but ughh he is so grateful that she likes him because she is a Goddess. he’s blessed yo..

#long post #i went into a deep meditative state typing this... i don't even remember typing some of this ghdhs #it is 3 am and i am BOPPING to the temptations tho so it's all good #this ask meme is so fun.. litch rally anything w music is bound to be a Good TIme #thank you for asking again!! <3 #fullmetal-the-last-alchemist

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hogbullpup · 4 years

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Ruminations-life, love, relationships

For the past nine months I haven’t been pursuing a boyfriend or boyfriends until either 1, my mental health improves, 2, I can move on from being a part-time caregiver for my mom and let my brother take over, 3, I can find a better job/career, or all of the above, but I’ve been feeling so lonely lately that I’m wondering if I should just say “fuck it” and get back on both growlr and twitter. Still, I feel like I haven’t gotten out a lot of my own thoughts about my personal shortcomings in my last relationship and other concerns before pursuing another one, and this is as good a place as any as no one’s really here anymore, so long story incoming...

About 6 years ago, after coming out as a proud lover of large, hefty men I started exploring chub/gainer communities around in the area and after a while found a big fella who ended up becoming my best friend, whom I’ll call C. We bonded very quickly; after a while we were hanging out once a week consistently and I soon developed feelings for him.

Around the time C and I were hanging out and bonding, my dad was diagnosed with stage four bladder cancer and 3.5 years ago passed away. 6 or so months after that C asked if I wanted us to be more than just friends, but I put him off because I was in a bad mental state, partly from my dad's brutal battle with cancer and partly from my own insecurities. This hurt C far more than I knew at the time, and I still don’t forgive myself for causing him that much pain.

Early 2018

Some time later, March 2018, I told C I was being dumb and that I loved him deeply, and we started dating, but he told me that in that time he had discovered the pup community and found a sir/handler, S, who was moving to the area soon with his other 2 pups. I on the other hand in that time had been looking for community with the Seattle bears and chubs, however I felt their scene was kind of cliquey, financially discriminatory, and on occasion racist (despite how physically attractive I found a lot of them--this was really frustrating for someone who is only attracted to bigger, fluffier men).

So in the first couple months of C and my relationship I started exploring the pup scene/fetish online and in a couple of gatherings, and enjoyed a lot of what I saw, but it also left me with more questions than answers (turns out I'm far more switch than dom) and C certainly couldn't answer all of them given the fact that he was still a very new puppy. He specifically admitted that the details of our relationship became harder because I wanted to explore pup play, but at the same time wasn't at all sympathetic because I was partly exploring pup play just because he was into it, which he really didn't like (I also lied about this which still makes me feel sick, and danced around the issue instead of just being honest and saying "babe I just wanted to explore and be involved in the things you like"). This became even harder for me because C was being quickly welcomed into S's family, and got his collar soon after they moved to the area. I didn't want at all to intrude on their family because it would be psycho rude and I didn't even know any of them, but I was also deeply protective of C at the same time, and didn’t know how to handle my insecurities. I wish I had the emotional knowledge then that I do now. Starting to date C was a big change for me going from open-but-committed to my first poly relationship, so I was upset that I couldn't explore poly WITH C. It didn't seem fair.

Jealousy took over and I started telling C that I might want to pursue a family like S had, because if he was able to build a family exclusively of cute, chub pups than so could I. C cautioned me that S got very lucky compared to most, and that the likelihood of me being able to find a few gay partners all of the chubby variety and all of whom are compatible was very unlikely, and even if possible would take years (but, to my frustration, he would never give me a clear NO). While this sat heavy with me and I knew he was most likely right, it didn't help with my feelings of complete helplessness and isolation in my situation. I continued to ruminate. A big part of it that I fully regret and admit to is jealousy, and I had no idea before this whole situation that I was such a jealous person. But there was also massive anxiety--the feeling that there was nothing I could do, a feeling I don't handle that feeling very well, and I think it made my jealousy worse.

So instead of being patient, exploring pup play, enjoying the chub/chaser relationship I had with C, and just seeing how things went, I BADGERED C for some 7-8 weeks with impossible questions like...

"how would dom (me) and sub (him) pup interactions work given the fact he already has a handler?"

or "how can we ever belong to a larger family unit together (this was a big one for me) if your family is full," (I wasn’t his handler’s type anyway. He likes big chubs like I do so deep down I knew this was putting pressure on C to expand our relationship without asking if that was ok first),

or "what if in my explorations I discover I want want to be a handler or just part of a larger family, and somehow want you to be a part of that with me together without stepping on your handler's toes? How will that be possible?" (I knew C was an introvert and probably wouldn’t really have the energy/time to put into another complex relationship like that with me).

I knew that these questions were impossible to answer but still I continued to harass him, even though C told me on multiple occasions I was stressing him out and needed to back off and handle my jealousy and insecurities ("jealousy is poison in poly relationships", he said, and wasn't wrong). And in Fall, after a heated argument, he requested we take a 1 month break, which I spent learning to meditate and mitigate my anxiety and insecurities, while also begging fate for us to be able to stay together. When we met back up, I made my case that I was working hard to overcome anxiety and jealousy, but he told me the damage had been done. I was crushed.

Late 2018

After we broke up I continued to pursue meditation, but to be completely honest it barely kept the anxiety at bay and eventually I just gave up. I lost sleep over losing C for some 5 months, unable to clear my head of all those unanswerable questions for at least 2 hours most nights before falling asleep. I had lost both my best friend and lover, and at the time he was still rooming with my gaming friends and it was awkward for me to hang out, so I just felt alone, which is, without doubt, my one driving fear and what I wanted to avoid at all possible costs.

I remember thinking over and over again that I wished I had never put C off in the first place and had admitted my feelings to him sooner, but at the same time wouldn't have wanted anything to change as far as him meeting S and family. I just wanted things to somehow work between us as I explored what it meant for me to be poly.

Nov-Feb

In the months following our breakup I fought to recover from these feelings of loneliness by STILL continuing to attending pup social events and even a mosh (though I didn't participate in the mosh). It was hard when I would see S and his three pups show up, and I had to fight off nagging bad thoughts every time it happened. Still, I met a couple of very nice chubby pups who I bonded with and became friends. Sadly, despite liking both of them, one couldn't afford to live in Seattle anymore and moved back to Wisconsin, and the other (whom I really liked but was too damaged from my breakup to pursue) got adopted by a couple of husbands and moved just outside of Milwaukee with them. It felt like the universe was picking on me for my fear of being left out or rejected. I was alone again.

Somehow I persisted and survived, but my memories of the few months after that are such a dull blur I'm not sure I was even alive at the time. C and I are good friends again and I have a core group of friends (including him) who I feel close to and game with about once every 2 weeks. I still love him a lot but he's not looking for anything and I need to moderate my attraction to him. Also, time I spend hanging out with him is time I'm not spending looking for a big partner to call my own so I feel weird sometimes when I play around with him and my feelings are so fucking strong. I would like to find a guy I have that connection with who also wants to live together. It's depressing how hard something that simple is to find.

Anyways this has gone on for far too long, but I needed to write down my ruminations somewhere and also double down on goals and reminders for future relationships so I don't make the same mistakes I did before:

-If I'm attracted to a guy as much as I was attracted to C, I need to remember and understand that there probably will be major consequences to putting them off, even if it's for my own comfort.

-If a guy asks me to give him space, legitimately do it, and don't be actively looking for the next opportunity to talk about difficult things.

-If I date a man and he has a master or another family, I need to be happy for him, and not try to follow in his path, unless that's something he would enjoy/welcome (C didn’t, and I didn’t want to accept that). But also emphasize that a family like that is what I’m looking for and ask him to be gentle/supportive with me while I pursue it.

-If I date a man with a master, I need to be patient, respectful, and willing to communicate with him at his pace. After a while I can hopefully ask if I can work to earn the handler/master’s trust to not have to ask permission to do most things with my partner. If that option isn’t available, then it’s probably not the relationship for me.

-Accept that large men who are happy being large and soft are few and far between, and finding one into me is going to take significantly longer than a typical gay relationship, and that if I'm not out there looking, the few opportunities that are there are going to come and go.

-Learn to balance being flexible with knowing my limits, and knowing when to put my foot down. I honestly should have been the first to cut my relationship off with C because he didn't want his partners to cross or for sexual experiences in one bedroom to be shared in the other's bedroom. And right away that should have been a huge warning sign for me because that's something that's very important to me in a poly relationship (though at the time I was very new to poly so that was the first time I discovered what I wanted). I think I partly held on to him so hard because, other than my emotional feelings for him (which built up over some 3+years), there just aren't that many 300+lb non-judgmental guys who are going to find me as attractive as I find them. Regardless, no matter how many boxes a guy ticks for me, if something bugs me that much then I need to not settle.

-Patience. Patience. Patience. I need to learn to relax. It's possible that everything between C and I would have worked out if I'd just been patient. Perhaps not, but I'll never know how much I can accomplish with patience unless I try.

Well, I guess it's time to get back on growlr, dig up my old twitter, and hope for the best.

#chubbychaser #humanpuppy #life is hard #gay relationship #ruminations

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dmydfilmreviews · 5 years

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MARVEL MOMENTS

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So what they really did, as well as making a good load of films, was actually make a vast tapestry of genius interwoven moments like flicking through a big comic book! Ten years! Twenty something movies! A load of rubbish images at the end of the list because the last three films weren’t officially out on Blu Ray! Avengers assssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

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Tony Builds the First Suit

Really it was a stroke of brilliance to start the whole shebang with Iron Man the self-made superhero. The backbone of the whole universe is that of Tony making himself and that all kicks off here, in a sequence that’s hugely thematically satisfying given what comes later. There’s also the fact that back in the day all this construction stuff was just fucking cool, a Nolan-lite bedrock for a blend of realism and fantasy that comic-book cinema had never quite nailed before. Seeing Tony improve his tech step-by-step is a quiet pleasure of these movies, the suits getting more and more outlandish but staying absolutely believable, just like the films, and that all kicks off here with one guy and a non-magical hammer.

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Pepper Pulls Out Tony’s Heart

I noted these all down before Endgame, honestly. Sob. It was always his story really. The best example of the foundational relationship of the MCU: They finish each other’s sentences!

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‘Truth is… I am Iron Man.’

They knew what they’d got from the very first. This ballsy coda sets the tone for the whole MCU, one of backed-up swagger, a willingness to fuck with the source material in the name of story and the general feeling that Robert Downey Jr. was God. All in like two hours. That they flipped the egotistically iconic line into an era-defining declaration of responsibility, growth and heroism a decade later is nothing short of remarkable.

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Hulk and Betty in the Rain

It’s uh… it’s a nice comic-book visual of a classic comic book romance, I guess? Look, Hulk came a long way later, but his forgotten love for Betty was the closest they ever came to the source material outside of the Hulk generally smashing and being awesome. It was sweet!

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The Bit Where Hulk Suplexes a Giant Zombie Wolf on the Rainbow Bridge of Asgard

wait was this in the Incredible Hulk

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I’ve Successfully Privatised World Peace!’ ‘Fuck you, Mr Stark.’

They got Garry Shandling in these movies!

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The Suitcase Suit

Now that is a cool-ass adaptation.

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Black Widow Kicks Asses

Yeah, after a whole movie of being reductive eye-candy she was still reductive eye-candy here. But the scene as a whole’s basically a perfect realisation of her moves in the comics, and showed Marvel were capable of doing someone who wasn’t Iron Man. Then they did EVERYYYYOONNNNNNEEE bonus points for Happy taking out that one guy and yelling ‘I got him!’

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Tony and Rhodey in the Japanese Gardens

Look, they just look cool, OK? No one said this was going to be deep.

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Tony and Pepper as the Stark Expo Explodes

They haven’t managed a lot of great romance, but this one hella works: Tony’s overblown mess of a movie expo exploding behind the true love of his life is a visual so great that Shane Black nicked it wholesale for the climax of Iron Man Three: Christmas in Croydon.

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The Frost Giant Throwdown

Wait, what’s happening? I thought these were the movies where Jeff Bridges rode a Segway? Are we in SPAAAAACCCCCEEEE?

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Thor Can’t Pull It Off

Out of the big three Thor’s arc of mythology to humanity might be the deepest and most satisfying of all. That starts here with his tearful inability to be worthy of his father, his world and, crucially, himself, leading directly into the first great Thor/Loki exchange, then a whole host of movies that eventually put him through the emotional wringer to self-acceptance. Hopefully?

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Thor and Loki Battle on the Rainbow Bridge

Yeah, it looks kind of goofy, but this is pure sixties Kirby, shorn of the irony the series would develop later. Beautiful.

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Erskine Points To Cap’s Heart

That’s it. That’s the character.

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The Star Spangled Man!

Who’ll hang a noose on the goose-stepping goons from Berliiiin?

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That Whole War Montage That Ends With Bucky Falling From The Train

Just smash after smash after smash of wartime Cap goodness that we’d never see again, ending with the ‘death’ that’d define the rest of his story. Steve lost as much as Thanos in his quest for peace but, y’know, he wasn’t a total fucking intergalactic dick about it.

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‘I gotta put her in the water!’

Man alive he waited for that date... whether you think the ending of Endgame ruins the moment somewhat (it doesn’t. sort of), this was still the biggest heart-tugger in the MCU at that point, and defined the characters of Cap and Peggy for years to come. Watch Agent Carter! Just bloody watch it!

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'Lemme Put You On Hold’

The stand out moment of The Avengers is basically all of it, but let’s start with the moment Black Widow finally becomes a character, a sequence of broad-strokes skill from Scarlett Johansson and Joss Whedon that begged for a movie she finally got way too long later. Bonus points for possibly the greatest Coulson reaction shot in a history of great reaction shots.

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The Helicarrier Ascends

OK, shit – this is series is big now.

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The Whole of Stuttgart

Whedon’s love of classical posh entertainment is seen in Angel’s superior ballet episode and his fondness for Sondheim, and he even gets a bit of the ol’ jewellery rattling in here in a perfectly pitched Loki-loving sequence that culminates in some fantastic bits for Cap before Iron Man AC/DC’s all over the place. This is where the comic book stuff really kicks off.

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‘YOU COME HOME!’

This Hemsworth’s fella’s really got something...

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Forest Bro Down

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. The first real Avengers mash-up is just wonderful. This is where the wish-fulfilment really begins, in a quiet clearing, where three superheroes nearly beat the shit out of each other in classic comic-book style. The Avengers assembled.

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The Whole Fuckin’ Helicarrier Sequence

An absolute masterpiece of blockbuster juggling that had never been done before, this could be the third act of any other film. Over what plays out weirdly like a piece of theatre we get terrifying Hulks, mewling quims and awesome heroics, all expertly laced with wonderful character mash-ups and action we’d never seen before. Then Coulson dies. This is what Joss Whedon does.

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‘There was an idea…’

Fuck shit yeah there was, and it made for a hell of an Infinity War trailer six years later.

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ALL OF NEW YORK

Yep, all of it, but if we’re being picky it’s Hulk v Loki for the comedy side, the tracking shot for the action. As a sequence it’s never been bettered in the MCU, even in the open-mouthed joy-gush of Infinity War and Endgame. FIGHT ME

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Go Fish

Iron Man Three is a wonderful movie that works best as the sum of its parts, but there’s one bit that’s up there with the pantheon: the sky-diving rescue above the bay is such a joyous subversion of the usual third-act super-fisticuffs that it’s like something out of a 70’s Superman movie, only with a hilarious capper at the end where Iron Man explodes under a truck. Beep beep!

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Running the Lemurian Star

The Russo Brother’s action calling-card for their incredible MCU run, this sets up their vision of Cap’s super-subtle-super-serum-super-moves. From the off it’s a game changer in the way action’s shot across the MCU, clean-cut raid-alikes becoming the order of the day. AND THEN HE FIGHTS BATROC ZE LEAPER

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Elevator Throwdown

Yeah, yeah, we all know the actual bit in the elevator that’s spoofed to tremendous effect come Endgame, but remember this sequence ends with Cap TAKING DOWN A FUCKING QUINJET SINGLE-HANDED. The look on his face at the end says it all.

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The Winter Soldier Street Fight

HE FLICKS A KNIFE MID PUNCH

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Come and Get Your Love

We’d seen a lot of cool shit from the MCU by this point, but this was something else again. It’s funny! It’s funny as fuck! What the fuck is this movie? And again, they know their own best bits: the return to this in Endgame is top drawer. What a moron.

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The Kyln Sequence

This whole breakout is the Guardians at their very best; squabbling in space, reluctant teamwork, loads of cool shit and leg theft. The bit where it all goes anti-grav is a treat.

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WE ARE GROOT

That’s it. That’s the movie.

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…Stark…

It’s a shame they didn’t delve deeper into Scarlet Witch’s hatred for the man who murdered her parents, but her barely contained rage is the keystone for Age of Ultron: deeper, nastier, more questioning of it’s heroes and their heroism. This one they brought on all by themselves.

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Sun’s Gettin’ Real Low

Yeah, maybe it’s for the best the slightly bumbled Hulktasha relationship was forgotten about, but this moment was pivotal in the character development of both. Beautifully shot, and leads to a primo Ragnarok gag.

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Lift That Hammer

You genuinely could have made a whole movie of these characters hanging out at an open bar. The Stan cameo’s great, the War Machine story bit gets an Endgame alien planet boost much later, but it’s the drunken worthiness competition that’s the real highlight, a seemingly fun throwaway that actually almost single-handedly sets up the whole character of Vision and the most fist-pumping moment of Endgame, a movie nearly entirely composed of fist-pumping moments.

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Hulk vs Hulkbuster

Pure comic-book wish fulfilment again, and how. From Hulk spitting out a tooth to Tony desperately pleading ‘go to sleep go to sleep go to sleep’, this mad clash of science pals knocks every Transformers movie straight through a freshly-bought-building. Veronica!

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Well Done.

Alright, Vision’s no one’s favourite Avenger, but he’s one who’s the satisfying product of several movie plots, one beloved supporting AI and the combined brains, magic and cool red capes of his team. Whedon performs his own mad-skillz level script trick to make us accept this fucking weirdo, first by giving him Jarvis’ voice, then having him stare out at a world and see his reflection in it, then having him lift an unliftable character-establishment hammer. None of this could be done by any other film series.

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The Geometry of Belief

Ultron’s climactic church-a-maggedon is short but perfect, a swirling mass of splash-page insanity that culminates in a glorious trinity of Vision, Iron Man and Thor blasting the shit out of their mad son like a magic triangle. The Avengers at their peak.

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Vision and Ultron Have a Chat

Whedon pops out these gems of detached humanism from time to time, and his sundown final exchange between The Avenger’s success and failure is a doozy. The most poetic little scene in the whole MCU, voiced by two creatures who look like nightmarish dildos. ‘A thing isn’t beautiful because it lasts’ is an all-timer.

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Big Bathtub

Ant Man’s bedrock might be its family values, but it’s the shrinking that makes it stand out. The first time Scott drops into tiny-town is a Pixar-esque fun-burst akin to Stephen Strange’s nutso jump into infinity later, with deadly bath taps, thunderclap vacuum cleaners and mid-day apartment raves (?) all bringing a new level of threat and adventure to a series already teeming with variety. They should carry these ones on foreverrrrr

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Cassie’s Room

There’s something about this scene that sums up Scott’s whole character and hopefully sets up his daughter for future ant shenanigans: he is (was) unique as a hero with a family, and no matter how many Pym Particles he stuffs into his suit he’s always looked like a giant to his daughter. Plus, y’know, Thomas the Tank Engine.

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Some Guy Crashes a Car at Night

The catalyst for the great middle schism. Civil War is a masterclass of twisting, gut-churning reveals, and this is the quiet moment that starts it all.

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QUEENS

The perfect Marvel character, introduced into the perfect realisation of the Marvel Universe, perfectly.

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Running Into Each Other At The Airport

LITTLE MAN IS BIG NOW I’M CLINT WE HAVEN’T MET YET I DON’T CARE WHERE YOU FROM KID QUEENS BROOKLYN I’M YOUR CONSCIENCE WE HAVEN’T SPOKEN IN A WHILE YOU GUYS KNOW THAT OLD MOVIE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK HOW OLD IS THIS KID ETC ETC OH MY GOD MY BRAIN HAS EXPLODED

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Cap vs Iron Man

‘I don’t care. He killed my mom.’

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The Big Brain Burst

They keep doing bits to expand themselves, and this is one of the best, with the most potential for the future. Fleeting, but dazzling.

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New York Mirror Fest

If the next Strange movies delve into this deranged nonsense then they could end up the greatest of all of them. This is the tip of the iceberg, and it’s still unlike anything else being done in mainstream cinema.

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Mr Blue Sky

In a movie that frequently reaches big and misses, at least it hits the spot at the beginning. This glorious celebration of family, space-craziness and genre subversion is everything Guardians does best. The Gamora / Groot bit is adorable.

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Peter’s Civil War Adventure

The perfect tone-setter for the story’s most-average joe, this ground-level view of the universe’s biggest clash acts as a whippet quick intro to Peter Parker’s world in the big bad MCU. It’s always a thrill to see him where he belongs.

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The Homage to Getting Buried Under a Tonne of Crap

Homecoming’s riffs on classic Spidey-lore are generally pretty subtle, but when it comes time to show what Peter’s really made of Watts rips directly from the best, first with the iconic Parker/Spidey face split and then with him holding up a whole fucking building like he’s nerd Hulk or something. The added ‘come on Spider-Mans’ are the adorable icing on the homage-o-cake.

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Anytime That Immigrant Song Plays

Another!

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Thor vs Hulk

Yeah, it’s not perfect and it’s a little CGIey. But it’s Thor fighting the Hulk in a fucking galactic gladiator arena place run by Jeff Goldblum and it smashes and it’s full of fun callbacks to previous movies. Yes! That’s what it feels like!

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Thor and Loki Do Get Help

The perfect encapsulation of Waititi’s irreverent-but-with-tonnes-of-heart freshgasm on the story of Thor, this bit of hilarious dumb shit acts as amusing action beat and neat character resolution all in one. They’re friends again! They’re brothers! Thor throws him around like a rolled up carpet!

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What Are You The God of Again?

Oh right, so he’s the best Avenger now.

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Killmonger in the Afterlife

The bloody heart of the most emotional Marvel movie, when Erik Killmonger enters the Wakandan afterlife he finds himself in his own tiny Compton apartment, exiled with his father forever with the plains of eternity just out of reach beyond the window. Heartbreaking, and brilliant.

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Thanos Arrives

The opening of Infinity War is another example of their absolute mastery of tone; after the megaton funblast of Ragnarok we’re thrown into the end of that movie being ripped apart, before Thanos appears, dragging a battered Thor into frame, beats seven shades of green shit out the Hulk and murders two beloved supporting characters, all without breaking a sweat. If you weren’t excited before you were now.

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New York Tussle

The opening New York section of Infinity War is all very clever, acting as the only grounding Earthy moment in what’s a pretty out-there narrative in terms of existential stakes. You get Tony and Wong helping people off the sidewalk and Strange winking after halting the space-death-machine, but from there on out it’s full-bore comic-book smackdown fun, clashing characters who’ve never met and providing top-drawer banter about wizards and children’s parties. This is the page, up there on screen.

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BRING ME THANOS!

BRING ME THANOS!

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The Thanos Fight

Jesus fucking Christ. Up there with the end of Avengers and the Civil War airport battle, this is a perfect realisation of superhero action, with a bigger dose of high-level insanity courtesy of the Infinity Stones and Doctor Strange. Sublimely realised, incredibly satisfying, with real weight and thought put into the spectacle, it’s also fantastic in the narrative of the film, the culmination of its themes of desperation and inevitability. The first time you saw them try to rip off the gauntlet was unbearable.

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The Snap

Well, yeah. You’ll never get back the first time you saw this. And imagine seeing it as a fucking kid.#

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Just a Girl

Sure the big level-up CGI fest at the end is good, but it’s the comedy smackdown on the Kree ship that’s the most satisfying part of Captain Marvel, the shit-eating joy on Carol’s face as she discovers she’s way more powerful than the assholes who’ve been holding her back. It’s corny sure, but it’s hella fun.

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Thor Goes For The Head

Endgame is a shocking, disorientating blur to begin with, all the characters you loved acting in strange, desperate ways in a super-hero version of post-traumatic stress disorder. Tony’s meltdown is bad enough, but it’s when Thor just straight up fucking murders Thanos that you know this is going to get dark and serious. It doesn’t, it remembers it’s a Marvel movie, but the shot of him walking out into the blurred alien sun, cape aflutter, is a fitting goodbye to a more innocent time of heroics.

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Ant Man and Cassie

A moment that could be worthy of a whole movie itself, a desperate Scott Lang meeting his five-years-older daughter gives a joke character a serious moment in the same way Infinity War did for Guardians. It’s very odd, very sweet and very Marvel.

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Love You 3000

Morgan H. Stark is almost a little too on the nose as a wrap-up for Tony, but hell, she’s still sweet as all hell and a perfect capper to his story of fatherhood and responsibility. It’s a mark of the work they’ve put in that we’ll almost immediately accept the tired trope of kid-taking-over-mantle when she inevitably puts on the armour in a few years.

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Steve and Peggy / Tony and Howard

This is the bit in Endgame where I finally started tearing up: a lot of it is too-neat fan-service, but fuck it, they’ve put in so much effort that it works. This is the scene where you realise both of these long arcs are coming to an end, the resolution of Steve quietly making his decision to go back to Peggy and Tony getting the closer of discussing parenthood with his unknowing father. It’s corny sure, but so are comic books, and setting the whole bit at the height of seventies Marvel Comics mania is a loving nod to the imaginations that made all these crazy possibilities possible.

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Widow and Hawkeye

There’s a theme here. All of these moments are kind of cheesy and rely heavily on callbacks to previous bits… but at the moment it doesn’t matter because ENDGAME WOW. Maybe we’ll look back at it as a corny misstep, but for the moment, Clint and Tasha having one last, ludicrously overblown tussle for who gets to live is a sweet capper that never goes as deep as the others because they’re supporting characters. It still stings, and it’s a neat mirror to Gamora and Thanos in Infinity War. The red’s gone from her ledger! It’s on the rocks! Urrrgh

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Nebula Kills Herself

Again, they’re so good that they can spend a big chunk of time in what’s ostensibly the last big movie for their most beloved characters on making a lesser character beloved. Endgame spotlights Nebula even more than Infinity War did Gamora, using her self-hatred and fear of her father for compelling, wibbly-wobbly plot and character beats. The resolution of her story and her newfound place with her team should make for a whole different Guardians before we even get to Fortnite-Thor joining up.

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Cap Wields The Hammer

‘I KNEW IT!’

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Thanos’ Army

One last escalation of scale. When Thanos’ army finally arrives it’s like something out of those apocalyptic Turner paintings, where the hordes of a ship-wrecked hell confront eternity under skies ripped from heaven. Only this time they’re facing one guy called Steve, and they’re fucked. Incredible.

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Avengers… Assemble

It almost lives up to what you always had in your head. The Marvel Universe, somehow done right.

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Tony Hugs Peter Back

Awwww!

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New Avengers Run the Gauntlet

A surprising amount of Endgame’s grand finale is given over to the future hopes; while Strange gets stuck in with holding back a Biblical flood it’s up to Black Panther to grab the Infinity Gauntlet from Clint in a delightful callback to Civil War, before embarking on an intense relay race across the entire battlefield that begins with Scarlet Witch crushing the shit out of Thanos’ testicles and ends with Captain Marvel engaging the Mad Titan in a bone-crushing show of super-strength. And along the way if finds time to have Peter Parker dragged through the air by Thor’s hammer which was thrown by Captain America before landing on a Pegasus flown by Valkryie across an exploding sky of alien whales. Maybe the most satisfying run of action since the first Avengers.

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I am Iron Man

It was always going to be him really. Bonus points for Downey Jr. originally telling Thanos to ‘Fuck off’. Did anyone else keep thinking he was going to wake up and quip and everything would be OK? That’s how you make movies.

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The Funeral

It looks a little weird actually, like they weren’t all on set. But they were! The Marvel Universe again, holy smokes.

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The Kiss

Now that’s how you end ten years and twenty one movies. They’re movies! It was romantic! It was exciting! It was fun!

For TEN FUCKING YEARS.

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Swing a Ding Ding Sir

After five movies of fresh shit they've finally starting dumping some classic Spider-Man on us; the Euro stuff's fun and all, but it's Far From Home delirious climax that sees Spidey and MJ thwipping through the canyons of New York before bumping into ugly ol' J. Jonah JJ Jay Jay likes it's a freakin' comic book or something. Delightful, and also serves as a wonderful image of hope and joy post-Endgame.

What a fuckin’ ride. Here’s to the next... seventy six? Seventy seven?

wait did I leave any out

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mentalmimosa · 5 years

Text

in the foreseeable future

Prompt: Previously undiscovered island.

“Well,” Tony said, squinting into the bright summer air, “it could be worse.”

They were sitting on a stretch of beach that meandered nearly to the horizon. The sun was high in a lilac sky and the sand was the color of crush lapis and the water beyond was green, iridescent, that moved in lazy waves towards the shore. If Steve’s ears hadn’t still been ringing, if he couldn’t still smell the burning wreckage, if he hadn’t seen that trail of blood oozing from the crack in Tony’s head, it might have almost seemed peaceful. Almost.

“Nothing’s trying to eat us,” Steve said. “And nobody’s shooting at us. Is that what you mean?”

Tony turned and gave him a tight, sunny smile. There was a gash on his cheek and he had a hell of a shiner. “What do you know?” he said. “For once, we’re on the same page, Cap.”

And then he fainted.

***

The planet they were stranded on, so far as Steve and the last of the nav computers could tell, wasn’t on any map.

“Of course it’s fucking not,” Tony managed once he woke up. “Otherwise, we couldn’t have crashed into it.”

Steve rolled his eyes and waved the raggedy holo away. “My point being,” he said, “that even if we could send a signal back to Earth, we have no way of telling them where to look.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“No.”

Tony lay back down gingerly, wincing as his head hit the field jacket Steve had reworked as a pillow. “Good. Because your bedside manner sucks.”

Steve stood up too fast; his head caught the top of the tent. “I’m not here to hold your hand, Stark. But I did spent the last three days making sure you didn’t bleed to death.”

“La di fucking da.” Tony closed his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll get a medal for that, too: saving a comrade in the line of duty or some shit.”

“Is that what you think this is about? You think I’m looking for some reward here?” Steve could feel his blood boiling. “I’m just trying to give us a shot at staying alive!”

“Don’t worry,” Tony said, fainter but no less barbed. “The powers that be won’t let their favorite soldier malinger out here too long. The cavalry's coming for you, Steve, every ship in this man’s army. You’ll see.”

Steve stepped out into the night air and breathed in, let it back out. Ten years he’d been in the force, out here sailing around on the front lines, and no one had ever pissed him off as routinely as Tony goddamn Stark. He was a terrific pilot, sure; made every ship he flew, even the creakiest, feel nimble in the spacelanes. His brain was able and sharp. The fellas loved him, too, and so did the ladies; word on the base was that his cot was never cold. He was charming, they said, like the best sort of salesman, but with Steve, from day one, he’d been only a pain in the ass.

He questioned orders, always, even the most basic and routine, peppered Steve with what he believed were much better ideas. When they were alone, just them and the stars, he was a smart ass, sharp and caustic, and Steve to his shame found himself responding in kind. Once, when they couldn’t agree on the best path through an asteroid belt, they’d come real close to settling things with their fists, and days like today, injured or not, Steve would have paid to get back there and give into that instinct, to see what it was like to punch the man square in the jaw.

But now he didn’t have a choice, did he? He couldn’t survive here alone and neither could Tony. They’d have to stick together, somehow, if they were gonna make it. He shook his head, laughed at little at the fucked-up of the universe. Gods help them, they’d find a way.

***

After a week, Tony was up on his feet again; after two, he was well enough to help Steve with the shelter he was building out of the slim, supple trees that lay an easy reach from the beach.

“We should be building this closer to the water,” he grumbled for the 90th time. “It’s gonna be a bitch running back and forth all the time.”

Steve yanked the freshly cut plank from Tony’s hands and gritted his teeth, stepped back up on the stump he was using a ladder. “Tch. We don’t know how high the tides will come up in the rainy season.”

“If there is one. That’s purely a guess on your part.”

“We’re in a tropical area, Tony. I think that’s a pretty reasonable guess.”

“I didn’t know you were kosher with those, that’s all.”

Steve fought with the plank; it was warped just enough not to want to slide home. “Kosher with--?”

Tony snorted and stretched up, held the wood in place long enough for Steve to drive the first nail home. “Guesses, Cap,” Tony said. “A reach of the imagination. I wasn’t aware they let officers have one of those.”

When Steve looked down, the man was actually smiling, a little curve of the lips between the dark lines of his beard. It was so unexpected, so startling, he found himself grinning back.

“Ah,” Tony said, “nice to see you’ve got one of those, too.”

Later, as they ate roasted fish over a fire, Steve found his eyes drifting to Tony’s mouth, red and wet in the firelight as Tony expounded on his plans for tomorrow, for some elaborate fishing trap he wanted to make.

“I could use your help with the roof,” Steve said when Tony stopped to take a breath. “We work on it together and in another day, it’ll be done.”

Tony shook his head. His dark hair, neatly streaked with gray, was already growing past regulation; freed from its high and tight it was, Steve noticed, sneaking towards curly. “You don’t need my help,” he said. “But you do need to eat. This one fish-at-a-time shit isn’t going to work much longer. We need to start setting up stores in case the weather gets bad.”

“Oh,” Steve said, the word sweet vinegar. “Are you actually admitting I’m right?”

“I said, in case . And who knows what bad weather looks like here. It might be a lotta rain. It might be none. You don’t know any more than I do here, Cap.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But I appreciate your willingness to err on the side of what if.”

Tony stood up and stretched, his fading t-shirt pulling up to his ribs, the skin beneath paler than the tanned lines of his arms. “Sir,” he said with a smirk. “Thank you, sir.”

***

Once a month had passed, Steve had resigned himself to it: their rescue, if it came, wouldn’t be easy or quick; for the foreseeable future, they were on their own.

He’d also come to terms with the turn in Tony’s behavior, with the slide from constant snark to something slipperier. It wasn’t as if they were friends now, or that they no longer disagreed, but their arguments felt more purposeful, less pointed. It was odd, mostly. But it was also good.

Their shelter was finished. Tony’s fish trap was, too, and he’d moved on to a small dam project that he hoped would put the water they drank from and cooked with closer in reach. They’d stripped every last usable inch of the ship and buried the rest in the forest, in a circle of those slim reddish trees.

“If they have the sensors going and they’re close enough,” Tony said as they rested, makeshift shovels in hand, “they’ll be able to sense the Vibranium through this soil, no problem. It’s not dense enough to make any difference.”

“I know,” Steve said.

He felt Tony’s eyes on him. “I know you know,” Tony said. “I just needed to hear it, that’s all. I’m reassuring myself over here. Not all of us all tall, blond, and stoic, Steve.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the only noise that of the leaves high above them shifting in the warm afternoon breeze.

Steve said, at last: “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me that.”

“What?”

He chuckled. “Steve. Not sir or Captain or Cap.”

“Is it?” Tony tilted his head. “Huh. Would you rather I stick with the formalities?”

“No.” He grinned, watched its twin bloom on Tony’s face. “Steve’s good.”

When the work was done, the last of the ship hidden beneath the soft earth, they ran down to the water and peeled off their clothes, desperate for relief from the heat.

“Oh, gods,” Tony groaned when he was waist deep in the waves. “That feels so fucking good. Shit.”

His chest was brown now and so were his shoulders, his back. He moved easily in the water, no trace of the limp from those first days. He looked happy, Steve thought suddenly, more relaxed than Steve had ever seen him; no more attitude, no more artifice, only strength and a smile and a constant echo of contentment. This Tony, the one beside him in the water of an unknown world, he looked like a whole different man.

“What?” Tony said. He’d ducked his head in; his hair was clinging to his neck, glistening.

“Hmmm?”

“You’re staring.” He reached up and rubbed at his face. “There a leech in my beard or something?”

Steve’s face went hot red and he turned away, looked out towards the horizon. “No,” he said, his tongue stumbling. “Nothing like that.”

That night, as Tony slept, Steve blinked at the roof they’d built with their own hands and saw Tony’s face there, dripping with water; the lines of his body sun hot and wet. His fingers itched and it was like before, when he’d dreamt of his fist in Tony’s face. But this time, the thought of his hand on Tony’s face--not punching, touching; a slide of his thumb over Tony’s reddened, damp mouth--made his stomach flutter, made the blood in his body slip between his hips and pool in the stunned swell of his cock. His name in Tony’s mouth: Steve, his tongue on Steve’s fingers, his teeth.

He hadn’t touched himself in weeks, hadn’t dared to; they lived so close, day in and day out, hand and glove. That’s all it was, the only reason he was hard in his shorts. It was hot even with the sun down and the moons out and he was lonely on this beautiful, godsforsaken world. It had nothing to do with Tony.

Steve bit his lip and listened to Tony snore and touched himself, furtive, rolled his hips into his big, shaking hand and when he came, he cupped a hand around the head and whimpered as he felt his spend fill up his palm, grateful that the rich smell of the night-blooming flowers was enough to cover the hot scent of his sex.

“Steve?” Tony’s voice was heavy with sleep. “You all right? Thought I heard something.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said, shaky, still trembling. “It was nothing. Just the, ah. Just the wind in the trees.”

Tony’s mat creaked as he rolled over, the shadows playing over his back. “‘K. Night, Cap.”

“Yeah, Tony.” Steve closed his eyes and scrubbed his hand against his shorts, heat in his head now, a rush of embarrassment. “Good night.”

#stony #space au #stranded #survival #enemies to maybe friends

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thanksjro · 4 years

Text

Eugenesis, Part Four Scene Five: Prowl’s Self-Esteem Is Through the Floor At This Point.

Prowl’s sitting in an office, waiting for all the Autobots to vote on whether he gets to lead or not. It’s agonizing. He’s run out of things to organize.

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Interesting that the Institute where the Headmasters worked might be doing some shady stuff. Guess it’s not all just frat keggers and failing sociology 101 at the Institute of Higher Programming.

Though I have to question the validity of a report written up by a guy who didn’t even exist in this universe until last month. Throwback, what are you even doing?

Perceptor comes in with the final tally.

108 for Prowl, 86 against. Oh hey, that’s the title of this Part!

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Roberts really likes putting leadership positions to a vote. He does it again in MTMTE #26, when Rodimus invoked the Crisis Act on himself after the whole thing with Overlord happened. Good to know he supports democracy.

Prowl isn’t terribly thrilled about just how many folks voted against him, but at the end of the day, all that really matters is that Kup isn’t going to get his suicide mission.

While that’s happening, the Delphi medics are busy tending to an unconscious and bleeding Optimus Prime. Nightbeat’s in the way, pulling a Kup, until Siren pulls him away. Siren still can’t believe Optimus Prime is actually here. I’m in the same boat at this point, though probably not for the same reasons; his is an awestruck wonder, and mine a dulled exasperation.

Back on the Ark, Ultra Magnus is just plum baffled by the Enslaver having disappeared without a trace, but they don’t really have the luxury to think on it too hard, seeing as their transwarp drive is about to crap out. They’ve got to exit hyperspace.

Sorry if this post reads choppy, the narrative is jumping around a lot here. That usually means things are about to pop off.

Over in Haxian’s workshop, a Quintesson trooper- Q-6 is what he’s called- is watching one of his coworkers get outfitted for the teleport, as Galvatron is screaming his own name down the hall.

Oh, good, we’re finally getting back to this idiot.

Haxian tells Q-6 to go shut Galvatron up. He heads over to the cell block to check it out, when things suddenly go silent.

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Curious just how the fuck that happened, but okay.

Galvatron’s gone missing. That’s a big problem.

One of the corpses makes a noise, and Q-6, not being terribly trope-savvy, takes a gander into the gaping wound that is Thunderclash’s chest.

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R.I.P. Q-6. We hardly knew ye.

Back on Cybertron, the Micromasters Siren sent out for reconnaissance have just landed their ship, starting the walking part of their journey. We’re following Phaser, Sunrunner, Blastmaster, and Treadbolt.

Little character bung-up here: Blastmaster and Treadbolt’s name are spelled wrong. They’re supposed to be Blast Master and Tread Bolt, respectively. Treadbolt is especially glaring, seeing as there’s an actual character from TransTech with that spelling, and his whole thing is that he’s BIG. I know that’s a pretty minor thing, but after all the intricate character inclusions and references Eugenesis has thrown at me, it’s pretty glaring. I even checked to make sure the spelling wasn’t different for the UK comics. I LIVE on the Wiki for this breakdown.

Also, turns out Blastmaster wasn’t always a Micromaster. He got the surgery in the 90’s. That’s not a canon thing, just a funny little Roberts headcanon. Which makes it canon for this novel, it just isn’t… anything that was established by the source material.

It’s important to remember that, at the end of the day, Eugenesis is a fanfic Roberts sold out of a suitcase at conventions in the early 2000’s. Things start to feel a little crazy if you don’t.

ANYWAY.

There’s bit of banter- turns out Sunrunner can’t read a map- and then Blastmaster reveals that the mountainside they’ve been standing in front of is actually a hologram hiding the abandoned Manganese Autobase they’ll be traveling through.

The Micromasters enter Autobase and crawl into a vent, because Roberts is as obsessed with robots crawling through ductwork as he is with mechpreg.

Mechpreg that I have still yet to see, I will remind you.

The fellas move through the ducts for a while, until they hit the inside of the concentration camp. They take a look, communicating through the inter-Autobot radio.

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That bodes well.

Back in Haxian’s workshop, our science-inclined tentacle monster is putting the finishing touches on the tele-armor, when Galvatron leaps into the room and attacks. He’s got Q-6 in a chokehold, which is really unnecessary, seeing as he’s very dead. Haxian immediately surrenders, and Galvatron demands to be sent home. He dons the armor, then makes to grab at Haxian to go with him- he’s still just as paranoid as ever, our Galvy.

Haxian refuses, seeing as the parameters this set of armor is set for won’t allow both him and Galvatron to survive the trip. Galvatron shoots him in the chest, and Sharkticons start pouring into the room.

Galvatron books it.

He’s still weak from the Inhibitor Chip, so he runs, only realizing the layout of the building isn’t terribly conducive to escape once it’s too late. The tele-armor then decides that now would be a good time to be ready to go. Galvatron punches the button, and is whisked away from the workshop

To the Kledji concentration camp.

Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire.

The Micromasters see him pop into existence, smoking and red-hot from the teleport, and are understandably confused.

The Kledji guards, not knowing that it’s Galvatron under the armor, welcome him with open arms. Galvatron responds accordingly.

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Himbo supreme defending his title, I see.

The Micromasters are a bit thrown by this development, but opt to stay on-mission, and merely observe.

Galvatron approaches the prisoners who were being transported when he showed up, and tries to ask what’s going on. He doesn’t get anything out of them, seeing as they’re under the influence of the Chips. Galvatron isn’t feeling too hot himself, but he can’t worry about that now, because more guards are coming his way.

As Galvatron fights more Quintessons, the armor he was wearing gets kicked around until it slams against the grate the Micromasters are hiding in, revealing the aqua fortis the original trooper was supposed to deliver.

Then the Quintessential Flying Fucks show up- looks like the gang’s back together again.

Galvatron is subdued, and Jolup decides that it would be very funny to inject him. Galvatron disagrees, turning into a gun to escape their hold. He skitters towards the grate as well. This grate must be magnetized or something.

The Flying Fucks stomp on Galvatron a few times, knocking him out before injecting him again. Now, they don’t know where the hell is neural cluster is in gun-mode, so they just kind of eyeball it before throwing him on the ground again.

They takes their eyes off of him for two seconds, and then he’s gone.

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…

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So, Galvatron’s missing, but the grate he landed in front of is off. The Quintessential Flying Fucks remember that Micromasters are a thing, and order the ventilation shafts be flame-cleansed to deal with them. Hope it was worth it to save the head of that faction you’ve been at war with for several million years, guys.

Back at the College of Knowledge, Chromedome and Perceptor are having a little chat about frequency calibrators, like the huge nerds they are.

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…Criminy, what body part is that supposed to be? I’ve seen it used to refer to hands before, both in fanfic and canon work- hello, Animated- but here that doesn’t really fit. I’m going to assume arms. It’s his arms.

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Chromedome, don’t you lie. You’ve never been happy a day in your goddamn life.

Then Chromedome realizes it’s been nearly half an hour since he last dragged Prowl, so he asks Perceptor why he voted against the guy.

Perceptor reasons that Prowl is level-headed and responsible, but just not…

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Chromedome coming for his life. Jesus.

He then asks who Perceptor would want in Prowl’s place. Perceptor avoids the question, redirecting to a very interesting-looking staircase. The stairs lead to a downloading theatre, where lectures were once held. As Chromedome reminisces on his alma mater, Perceptor finds some pieces of equipment that might be of use. Very peculiar pieces, that belong to a teleport system, and certainly not at a place of higher learning.

But Chromedome doesn’t care about that, because he’s just found motherfucking SOUNDWAVE hiding and passed out in a pile of junked computers.

Back at the camp, the Quintessential Flying Fucks are having a meeting about Galvatron. Xenon called and said they’d be improving the Chip, soon as Haxian stopped being grievously wounded. The Fucks didn’t mention Galvatron having escaped, or the Micromaster infestation. With two escapes in as many days, it would really make them look bad.

Then Sevax brings up a really good point: nobody- not one of the prisoners, or Galvatron- has recognized their Decepticon bodies. They’ve seen that they’re Decepticons, but no sense of familiarity, no being called a Cybertronian name, has happened. Just what the fuck were the Fucks before they were Quintessential?

The other two can’t be bothered to care.

Returning to Prowl’s crisis of self, Soundwave’s been dumped on a table, just laying there while everyone argues about what to do with him. Prowl just sort of watches it unfold around him.

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Kup, that’s not good gun safety.

Prowl makes the call to revive Soundwave. Kup agrees, much to everyone’s surprise. But there’s a problem! Soundwave needs an energon transfusion if he’s going to survive. A majority of the Autobots just straight-up leave the room at this point, not wanting to give the Decepticon anything. Prowl’s ready to donate all on his lonesome, when a few folks come back to help.

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This is why he was dry in MTMTE; too busy giving it all away to Soundwave. The secret fifth Conjunx. Nobody tell Rewind.

Just outside, Kup watches the transfusion begin.

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Okay, Kup, whatever. Be inexplicably creepy, I don’t even care anymore.

Credit to u/Araknidude on Reddit for the cursed transformation image.

#transformers #jro #eugenesis #part four #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing

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thinkinboutspace · 5 years

Text

Change Your Mind: A Summary of All My Thoughts and Feelings

Alright fellas, strap in because this post, much like tonight’s episode, is going to be a real long one.

I want to try and organise this so the topics I’ll be addressing will (probably) be in the order of the episode progression. And if you haven’t seen the episode yet please DO NOT read this because it’s going to be ridden with spoilers.

Everyone good? Okay, let’s do this.

My feelings are basically just me screaming for about 3 hours, but I do have some actual opinions that I need to share because none of my friends have been watching the recent episodes and I’m DYING.

First things first: THE DIAMONDS. I was expecting emotional scenes because this is Steven Universe we’re talking about but HOLY SHIT that was a LOT!! I knew Blue Diamond was going to accept this the fastest (although that leak of her yelling at Steven had me scared) but the dialogue?

“You were right to leave. I always thought that you were failing this world. But if you were happier on Earth, maybe this world was failing you.”

That’s such a powerful line and I love it so so much!! I also love the fact that she says this after Steven points out that it isn’t normal for her to use her crying powers on him as a punishment. The character development there is SO GOOD and it’s one of my favourite things about this episode!!

Yellow’s reaction was a tad bit different though, lol. For a while I wasn’t sure if she was going to “change her mind” and when the moment came and she did I cried! We all know that Yellow is the strongest of the the two because she thinks she has to be, and when she finally breaks down and admits that she’s been feeling opressed by White and that Homeworld’s system is flawed it felt so real and raw and relieving. Because she can finally be herself after thousands of years of her trying her hardest to not feel anything.

Next up: the new outfits and fusions!! Lapis and Peridot FINALLY GOT THEIR STARS IM SO SO HAPPY!!! And the fusions, where to even BEGIN AAAH!!

While I was very happy to see Smoky Quartz again, we had all seen her before and so the only thing that was new was the outfit. Don’t get me wrong though, I loved seeing my bean again!

RAINBOW QUARTZ 2.0 RAINBOW QUARTZ 2.0 RAINBOW QUARTZ 2.0-

Pearl and Steven! Fused! And I am! So excited about that! Rainbow Quartz 2.0 being silly and making the ‘two stones with one bird’ joke had me laughing and I just love them with my whole heart!

SUNSTONE OH MY GOODNESS!! Sunstone was only on screen for about five minutes but in those five minutes they snatched my wig, my heart, and I think they’re my new favourite. I know that every fusion combines the aspects of it’s counterparts and the fact that Sunstone is a child-friendly PSA come to life is genius and adorable and I love it (I’ve been saying that a lot but it’s TRUE OKAY)!

OBSIDIAN!! THE TEMPLE FUSION!! THE FUSION DANCE BETWEEN THE FOUR OF THEM WAS ADORABLE AND I’M CRYING!!! THEY REALLY ARE A FAMILY AND SEEING THAT IN THE FUSION DANCE WAS SO CUTE AND HEARTWARMING AND I CAN’T TAKE IT!!

I also need to take a moment to say that I LOVE CONNIE, BISMUTH, LAPIS, AND PERIDOT, AND WITHOUT THEM THIS EPISODE WOULD NOT BE THE SAME AND JUST, AAAAAAAAAH!!!

But now that my screaming is (sort of) over, I have to tackle the biggest part of the finale: White Diamond.

Hoooooooooo boy that entire scene was a LOT to take in. First of all, we have White using her powers to take control of Blue, Yellow, Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl (and of course White/Pink Pearl but we knew about that one). That, I think, was the saddest moment of them all. And it’s not even that alone that got me upset, it was how White Diamond described it!

“As for me, I’m certain I don’t need you. After all, I’m every colour of the light! But you’re a part of me! A part I always have to repress.”

“Please stop helping them! You’ll only make things worse. That’s what you do! I make things better.”

“Now the impurities you’ve encouraged in them are gone!”

There’s a lot of other things she says that make me upset but those three pieces of dialogue in particular just, oh boy. White really believes (at least in that moment) that not only is Steven just Pink taking on another form to rebel, but that in order to get Pink to “show herself” or whatever, she has to break Steven down and verbally attack him.

She pokes at every single one of his insecurites that we KNOW he’s had throughout the show and it’s heartbreaking to see! The smaller details with the gems being controlled really added to the horror and disgust I felt watching White monologue about how she well and truly believes that they are all flawed.

AND HER THEN TAKING STEVEN AND REMOVING HIS FUCKING GEM OH MY FUCKING LORD GUYS I FREAKED THE ABSOLUTE FUCK O U T!! I am not making this up, when that scene ended and the commercials started playing I threw the pillow that I was hugging on the other side of the couch, jumped up, and started pacing while whisper-screaming because I couldn’t actually scream around my family. Steven Universe has had it’s moments of horror (the Cat Fingers monster was one of the creepiest things I have ever seen), but I don’t think I’ve ever felt fear as genuine as that while watching this show (or just any cartoon in particular, really).

When the show resumed and we saw Steven’s gem reform separate from him, I got scared because for a split second we saw the outline of Pink Diamond and it would be the WORST if she were to reform - but that’s absolutely not what happened!! Instead we see a new, seemingly all-diamond version of Steven and the implications of that are ENORMOUS!! This is already addressed in the show, but it means that Steven has never been his mom and that he is absolutely his own person! And Steven’s fear that has been growing and growing throughout this arc has been shut down and I love that!

I need to take a moment to yell about the animation in the scene where Steven and his diamond self reunite, because HOLY SHIT it was POWERFUL. The animation in Steven Universe is, generally speaking, always on top of it and it makes you feel things when it needs to, but THAT SCENE? When Connie hands human Steven to diamond Steven and he starts cry-laughing out of happiness? The way they both laugh (and you can HEAR the genuine relief and joy) and the camera spins for a second? The way White’s eyes open in front of them after they both stop spinning? The background music building up to when Steven becomes himself again? I could go on and on about that but in summary - the cinematography in that scene was AMAZING and I would like to draw as much attention to that fact as possible.

(We’re almost at the end of my rant I promise, lol. If you’ve read this far, thank you!)

White’s realisation that she’s been wrong this whole time and she needs to ‘get out of her own head’ is written SO WELL!! She doesn’t admit it out loud (which makes sense because she’s been a perfection-seeking tyrant for years, it’s gonna take more time than that), but she breaks down and we get to see that she’s starting to question everything she’s ever known. Which doesn’t sound good, but to me it is because now she can finally start changing the way Homeworld is structured (and they returned to Earth and healed the corrupted gems, so that’s definitely a HUGE step in the right direction)!!

Lars and Sadie reuniting was wonderful, Steven and his dad reuniting was ALSO wonderful, and THE OFF-COLOURS!! WE SAW THEM AGAIN AND MOST LIKELY WILL GET TO SEE THEM AGAIN IN FUTURE EPISODES AND I’M HELLA EXCITED FOR THAT!!

The last thing I have to say before I go is the songs. Blew. Me. Away. Sadie singing Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart was so sweet and when it pans to Greg in the audience you can tell he loves it! I need to listen to the new Crystal Gems theme song because I don’t remember all of the lyrics at the moment but I DO remember that they were very powerful and reminded me of just how far this show has come and I love that a song is able to do that for me. The song that Steven sings at the end, ‘Change Your Mind,’ was short but sweet and the meaning it held!! Steven is finally on the path to accepting who he is and he’s realised that he doesn’t need the Diamond’s approval and I just am floored with that character development!!

And with that, I conclude my very long summary of thoughts and feelings! I know I definitely missed a lot of smaller details, but for the most part I think I managed to touch on just about everything major! Thank you for reading this far!

#su diamond days #su change your mind #steven universe #su garnet #su amythest #su pearl #lapidot #su bismuth #su spoilers #battle of heart and mind #su white diamond #su yellow diamond #su blue diamond #su pink diamond #su rainbow quartz

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