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sobdasha · 3 years

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had a few more thoughts about the Honda family

and all the Souma parallels.

(and by “a few” I apparently meant “a lot”, I did not mean to write this many pages)

In the other post I’d made a comment about how Katsuya’s romance with Kyouko, severe age difference issues aside, is just plain pathetic, a point which I believe to be Upheld by canon. And I wanted to talk more about that, the implications of that, and how that further builds the Akito and Tohru parallel. And also, Why Tohru Can’t Love Her Mom And Kyou At The Same Time.

The ideal, in Fruits Basket, is that when you make a connection with one person who loves you and sees you, this will enable you to make further connections with the people around you. Tohru does a whole heck of a lot of this; for one example, see Yuki explaining this to Kisa in the liking-yourself speech. Yuki does some of this for bitty Haru and later for Machi. Kazuma does this for Kyou. And so on and so forth. The positive experiences are meant to have a ripple effect.

It’s important to be grateful for what you have (Yuki and Machi’s “just one person would be enough” scene), but it’s human to crave more than that (Kyouko telling Saki that it’s probably normal to want other people to accept you even if you already have a loving and supportive family). It is important to crave more than that.

This was, in fact, the entire point of the curse. God meets cat. Cat’s companionship allows god to form connections with other animals. Cat is dying and god decides that 13 friends is the perfect number of friends and starts the reincarnation cycle. Cat says, “god you never once left your house. I wanted to see you go down and make friends with the humans. I wanted to see you experience the world and laugh in the sunlight. God you made 13 new friends but you’re still lonely and closing yourself off to the world forever, this is wrong and I am sad.” The banquets were supposed to be the gateway drug of friendship and meaningful connections, not the place where 14 souls stagnated alone and isolated until it became a curse.

That same wrongness happens in Ren and Akira’s relationship, where finally making a connection with one person who loves you and sees you made their world smaller and smaller. It wasn’t healthy, probably because 1) they remained in a toxic environment, 2) Kureno implies that Ren has mental health issues and I assume those existed prior to Akira’s death and were exacerbated, rather than created by, her grief; also I can’t imagine she actually came from a non-toxic family herself, and 3) Akira’s “you’re going to die an early death and the only thing we need from you first is a successor” trauma. Akira never found anyone other than Ren who understood how upset he was. Ren never formed a relationship with anyone other than Akira, partly because she was now trapped in a toxic family that despised everything about her and she refused to Prove Them Right by leaving. They both viewed their child as an object rather than a person; Akira seeing proof that he and Ren were definitely OTP and the Souma could go shove it, and Ren seeing a Rival.

I have a memory that I said at some point—probably in a Talking About Shigure post—that Kyouko helps Katsuya connect with other people. But this, I think, is not really true. I was thinking of how Kyouko helps bridge the non-relationship between Katsuya and his father. But that’s just one person.

Really, Katsuya and Kyouko are more like Akira and Ren.

Marrying-someone-who-just-graduated-ninth-grade aside, the fact that Katsuya and Kyouko meet is genuinely a good thing. Katsuya finally connects with the humanity in another person. Kyouko is finally cared about as a person. Their misanthropic-jackass-and-abandoned-cat relationship improves both of them, probably. Their connection is definitely the reason Kyouko decides to go to high school and quit her gang. It’s harder to tell with Katsuya, but you could argue that seeing Kyouko struggling and fighting and screaming against the world, as honest about her joy as she is about her loneliness-channeled-into-rage, causes Katsuya to say screw it and pursue the career in pharmacy that he’s interested in, instead of fake-politely submitting to the world’s expectations and internally resenting and disdaining everyone around him.

Katsuya softens in his relationship with his father. Both Katsuya and Kyouko see their child as a person in her own right, Tohru, rather than an object. Katsuya, in fact, is adamant about that fact when Kyouko is terrified of her pregnancy—that they can treat their baby as her own person, and if they aren’t perfect parents and they hurt their child, they’ll apologize—because Tohru is a person and an equal—and admit that what they did was wrong and why it’s wrong. They’ll treat Tohru with the respect they should have gotten all along.

But I don’t think it ever goes any farther than that. Like god, the Honda family becomes more and more isolated.

Does Katsuya make any work friends? We don’t really get a complete view of their lives, because Takaya is one person who can only do so much and space is very precious, so we only see what’s crucial to the story. But I would be really surprised to find that Katsuya had made any close friends outside of Kyouko. I honestly doubt that he has anything more than casual work acquaintances. (In contrast, we repeatedly see Kyou together with the two guys who got names in the anime that I forgot in his class; his friendship with them doesn’t get explored much in the manga, presumably because it doesn’t do any heavy lifting for his character development, but Kyou clearly has casual friends who seek him out and whom he doesn’t mind being with. See also the way Saki and Arisa also interact with those guys as a part of the group, while Tohru really only interacts with Saki and Arisa or the Souma.)

And I don’t think Kyouko fares any better. Does she have any close friends, other than her husband and daughter? Does she make friends at work? I don’t know what kind of work Kyouko does, and if she would have the opportunity to take her breaks socializing with coworkers. But it appears she spends her work breaks in an abandoned area socializing with a first or second grader. Kyou is the only person, as far as we know, that mid-twenties Kyouko can start to open up to. She doesn’t get all the way there—Kyou doesn’t connect the dots until much later—but it’s the closest she comes to talking about how she hurt Tohru after Katsuya died.

Where are the family friends? It doesn’t strike me as weird that the Honda family doesn’t have them, because I have also grown up in a poorly socialized household, but even I am used to running into unfamiliar people in public who explain that they know my mom or dad. I’m pretty sure family friends are a normal thing, and that’s how you get aunts and uncles that aren’t related to you, much in the same way that I’m pretty sure it’s normal to be friends with your cousins (especially if they’re in a similar age range and live nearby) and it is very common for grandparents to bring grandchildren with them to the grocery store because the grandchildren are staying over and they’re having a relationship.

Where is anyone but the Honda family at at Kyouko’s funeral? Kyouko made friends with Arisa and Saki, but did she ever make friends with Saki’s parents? Where are Saki’s loving and supportive mother and father and grandmother when the Honda family is arguing about who has to take on the burden of Tohru? Where are they, if they knew of the bad blood between Kyouko and the Honda family (and the disinheritance between Kyouko and the Katsunuma family), to sweep over Tohru’s protestations and tell her that it will all be fine, they’ll make it work out (they packed up and moved house for Saki, after all), it’s not Tohru’s job to worry about being a burden, it’s the job of people who love her to take care of her?

It can be both “because of the necessity of the plot” and “because they didn’t know.”

Tohru inherits this small, isolated world. And because of the trauma of being abandoned by her grieving, depressed, absolutely-not-coping mother, Tohru picks up on that Souma curse mentality. Tohru’s dad left, and Tohru’s dad tried to take her mom with her, leaving her with no one but Grandpa (who is not intimately part of their world but is not fully outside it either). Tohru’s dad is now a Rival. Tohru’s dad is now an Outsider. Clearly, a bond with an Outsider weakens the True Bond that Tohru had with Kyouko. Clearly, Tohru’s dad is Not Needed (because the other alternative is that Tohru is Not Needed). Clearly, only one of them can have Kyouko.

And it’s going to be Tohru.

Tohru picks up Katsuya’s fake-polite speech, equally disingenuously but from the opposite direction (ie, Katsuya was fake-polite to be an asshole, and Tohru is genuinely polite but faking the words). Tohru is pretty sure this is a form of wicked manipulation (much like Yuki is convinced that “be kind unto others as you would have them be kind unto you” is a form of wicked manipulation). Tohru keeps up with it anyway. Kyouko, as Kyou suggests, was probably comforted by this; rather than going full Akira “you exist to prove that I lived and loved a woman”, seeing Katsuya’s mannerisms in Tohru reminds her that her husband did exist without having to erase Tohru as a person. Kyouko does a lot of growing on her own, but with no support system and no friends outside the family and being fresh-out-of-college age, it’s not surprising that she fails to talk with Tohru about this, and tell Tohru that she knows why Tohru’s doing this, she knows how she hurt Tohru and it was wrong, you don’t have to do this anymore. This is a hurt between them, a grief, that they never talk about, even though they both know it’s there and Kyouko tries to smother it with love and affection and Tohru tries to shut it up in a box of denial.

Tohru’s world is now just Tohru and Kyouko. Tohru doesn’t make any friends until middle school. We know she gets bullied and doesn’t fit in throughout her entire school life. She is a riceball in a fruits basket and probably just manages to scrape by in conformity culture. When she does make her first friends, Arisa and Saki don’t count as Outsiders who compromise Tohru’s bond with her mom because Arisa and Saki are also misfits on the fringe. They are outcasts Tohru can bring into the circle. They are all monsters together, like the cursed Soumas (the only reason no one refers to Akito as a monster to her face, the way they do the rest of the Zodiac, probably has less to do with the fact that Akito doesn’t transform and more to do with the fact that Akito being in a position of power is useful for their own ends, so best not to undermine the head of the family by pointing the whole monster thing out).

And then Tohru’s mom dies.

Tohru isn’t god and she can’t make an eternal banquet. Tohru doesn’t know how to process her grief and how not to fall to pieces. Tohru knows how to empathize with other people, but she doesn’t know how to be vulnerable. Did she remember Kyouko wanting to follow Katsuya, and think about doing the same? But Tohru also wants to keep living, somehow.

So she makes her mom not be gone. Her mom is dead, Tohru knows that, just like Akito knows that Akira’s soul isn’t in the box choosing her over Ren and showing her the way to happiness. But maybe. So she talks to the portrait of her mom. She tries to rescue her mom from suffocating inside a mudslide. She takes her mom on holiday to the onsen. Her mom gets kidnapped once by Hiro. Tohru’s mom is definitely not gone. Tohru and her mom definitely still have an eternal bond. Tohru’s mom will always be first in her heart, so that Tohru will always be first in her mother’s heart. Tohru will never abandon her. Tohru will never leave her behind.

(Tohru will never be left behind.)

Tohru’s world is just Tohru and her mom.

Tohru has two best friends, Arisa and Saki, but she won’t let them in. She won’t depend on them. She won’t tell that that her grief is crushing her and that she’s living in a tent because she’s terrified of being abandoned. Tohru makes a lot of new friends in the Souma family, and she’s very happy, but she won’t let them in either. Tohru can’t open up to any of them freely.

I don’t think I saved it anywhere the survived the computer death, but I saw at least one post in the fandom talking about the growing disappointment of the reboot anime, and they had a valid point, so I’ll bring that in now.

I really like the reboot, but I am losing my passion in the final season. Adapting a story from one media to another is hard, and at the beginning I thought they were doing a good job. Small things were being cut, scenes were being rearranged and stitched together, but there was a definite purpose behind it. Instead of literally following each chapter, each episode tried to be a self-contained theme in the same way a manga chapter would be. Because themes repeat again and again in Fruits Basket in a slow build, this was working well. But small things that didn’t quite fit got cut. Scenes I liked and was sad not to see, but that I accepted had to be left out to make the episodes stronger.

But they’ve been piling up and piling up. Small holes have accumulated into big plot holes that the third season is tripping over. I’m sad that we don’t see the small progressions of Yuki and Machi’s relationship, the quiet scenes that show Machi is trying to pay attention to Yuki the way he has paid attention to her, and also all the Mogetas. I’m sad Komaki is the new manga-only character. If we don’t get Kyouko’s full backstory, we lose a lot of the context that’s in this post. I could go on and on.

But most importantly, as that someone else pointed out, we missed out on the progression of Kyou and Tohru’s flirting. It’s too late to cram all of that into a montage episode, and so now we’ve been given episode after episode of Mom Tohru, and hardly any Tohru Struggling With Romance In Addition To Struggling With Grief before suddenly everyone is confessing their love and I’m not as into it in the anime as I am in the manga.

So many of the Souma love and accept Tohru, but Tohru remains an Outsider—not because of the curse, but because she hasn’t formed close friendships with them. Tohru has a lot of people among the Souma she likes who like her, but she’s always a Mom to them. Tohru shares some of her own pain with them, but it’s shared for their benefit, not for Tohru’s own catharsis. Tohru shares so she will be loved, not so that she will be accepted.

Except Kyou.

Kyou, who looks at Tohru and thinks, “I’m pretty sure she’s that lonely person even now, even while she’s smiling and genuinely enjoying every moment with us.” Kyou, who’s falling in love with Tohru. Kyou, whom Tohru’s falling in love with.

Kyou is the only one that Tohru takes a desperate risk with. Kyou is the only one Tohru ~disillusions~ and ~disappoints~ in the hope that he’ll accept her regardless.

Kyou is the only one Tohru tells, “I don’t talk about my dad because I kicked him out of the family. I know my dad loved us and I loved him back, but I pretend to talk like him so my mom will forget about him and love me instead. He came between me and my mom and now I pretend he doesn’t exist. And I know I’m an awful person for behaving like that, so I keep his picture and pretend I don’t, and I pretend he’s the Bad Guy who earned it.”

The idea that Tohru can’t love both her mom and Kyou is, in a way, true. (I think that same post I’ve been referencing also talked about how dropping the budding romance also dropped a lot of the clues that this is Tohru unable to process her grief? Which is also very true. But if Tohru has the Souma mindset, then actually she has a legit point about not being able to love two people at once despite being a very loving person. Both can be true. Multitudes.)

Kyou is an Outsider to the world of Tohru and her mom. And if Tohru chooses to love him, it will weaken her bond with her mom, which is predicated on loving her mom more than anyone else. If she expands her world to include him in it, she will be betraying her mom. Tohru will be the Bad Guy who left her mom behind and abandoned her. Tohru will be her own villain, condemned for the same crimes she pinned on her dad.

Kyou 100% gets where she’s coming from with this, because he turns this exact argument on her when she confesses to him and he panics (akin to when Tohru chases him down in his true form and he slashes her and, in the reboot, yeets her into the lake, so that she will be hurt so bad she’ll never pity/love him again). He asks her if her love for her mom—her bond—was just a lie.

Tohru making friends after Kyouko’s death has been a lot like Akito letting Yuki and Kyou out into the world, certain that it would drive them back to the bond. Yuki getting character development is a huge betrayal. Tohru wanting to be together with Kyou, when she should only want to be together with her mom, is a huge betrayal.

Tohru has no model for expanding her world. She’s good at loving people, but bad at letting them in (Kyouko was bad at that too—like Mom Tohru, she was very good at sharing anecdotes about her violent youth, but very bad about sharing how she’d failed Tohru as a mom). Like Akito, she only really knows the bond—the certainty that her mom would love her. She’s been so terrified of not being loved that she’s acted this entire time like her mom is still around. When Kyou’s love is a possibility, she can only conceptualize it as a betrayal of her relationship with her mother.

It always seemed a bit too abrupt that Tohru looked at Akito with the knife and went “oh shit we’re literally the same”, but now that I’ve thought this all out, it makes eloquent sense. The whole time Tohru’s been working against the curse, she’s been in denial about her own blessing-burden-curse. Now that she’s just admitted it and had it thrown back in her face, she can look at Akito and see another person in an insular little world, isolated and lonely and walled-off from the world. Of course Tohru desperately wants to make friends with knife-wielding Akito—she just decided to let go of her ties to her mother that were suffocating her, and take her first steps into the world, and got immediately dumped by the person she loves. Of course she wants to make friends with someone who knows exactly where Tohru’s coming from and how terrifying what Tohru just did is and how awful it is to be rejected even though she’s got other friends she loves out here in this world she’s decided to finally step into.

Tohru is so damn lonely, and Akito is there, also lonely and screaming and crying and undeniably human.

(Smile, Tohru tells herself in the hospital. Smile and tell Kyou you were happy to meet him and just let him go. Don’t be a curse. Smile and let him find his own happiness. Which is more or less the same struggle Akito is also going through. But maybe they’re going through it together. Maybe they used their words, together, when they couldn’t confide in anyone else. Although it feels a bit unlikely that Tohru let herself break down about Kyou in front of Akito, and Akito already had one pity-party in front of Momiji and may not have wanted to burden Tohru with a second.)

One thing I really love about Fruits Basket Another is that Hajime alludes to the fact that Kyou probably won’t inherit Kazuma’s dojo after all.

Kyou inheriting the dojo is something both Kyou and Kazuma have wanted, and it gives me many warm fuzzies. It is very narratively satisfying. The dojo, while Souma property, is not actually part of the main estate.

What I love is that Kyou probably won’t take over the dojo specifically because he and Tohru have made so many friends in their new town that they don’t want to pick up and leave. Kyou finally succeeds in freeing Tohru from that small, lonely world, much like he’s been freed from the fate of the Cat Room. Their relationship enriches them personally and also enables them to make so many new connections. Kyou has friends at the dojo! Tohru has friends at work maybe! Friends where they buy groceries, friends among the parents of their children’s classmates, friends outside of their extended Souma family! They’ve kept ties that don’t hold them back and made new ties that don’t weaken or steal away any of their old ties!

When they left Tokyo, Tohru was prepared to go anywhere as long as it was with Kyou. Now, she and Kyou both don’t want to leave because their world is so much larger than just their nuclear family and they’ve put down roots. They’ve seen each other not only lonely in the moonlight and worn thin by death and loss, but they’ve gotten up and gone down the mountain to where the people live and made friends among them, laughing in the sunlight. Just like the cat always uggghhhhh I’m not crying I’m just so damn happy for them I can’t

#sobdasha fic adjacent #fruits basket #tohru's mom loved her but tohru still had a souma-esque upbringing #is my ted talk for the evening i guess #it was nice to write something again that flowed out organically #and that i didn't have to edit and be precious about for months in among the exhaustion until the void ate it before i finished

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sombreboy · 4 years

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Dining out⇢kth x jjk

⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook (brief ft.Namjoon & Jisoo) ⇢genre: Smut, fluff, mxm, married couple ⇢word count: 8k ⇢warnings: Profanity, dumb humor, lil secret touching under the dinner table, bratty sub tae, dom daddy jk, I swear the daddy kink is heavy for these boys sometimes and this is one of those times, puppy petname; CHECK, blowjob, finger sucking, fingering, filming their shenanigans with their phone, tae fucks himself on jk's big doink then gets fucked good, meme ending because i am too lazy but at least you got a good fucking in. xo

A/N: Serves as a oneshot within the Love Maze series AU, however can also be read on it’s own. Co-written with my lovely @velvetwicebang <3

“Okay, remember to feed her every two to three hours.” Jimin nodded; blonde hair bobbing as he did so. The man carefully bounced the babbling baby on his hip, suppressing the need to roll his eyes at Taehyung’s constant reminders.

They’d only be gone for a few hours; but Taeyeon’s fathers were treating this like a five-month vacation.

“Her formula is in the bag, and so is her apple sauce! Sometimes she gets fussy right after she eats, so rub her tummy and give her a few pats on the back. Also, there’s diapers—“

“Guys, we know. We’ve looked after her before, remember?” Jimin reached out to place a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder; unknowing of Taeyeon’s infatuation with his boyfriend’s tattoos.

He didn’t have as many as her daddy Koo, but her shiny, doe eyes curiously scanned over the new piece of art. She found his eyes cool..

“No, I know.” Taehyung sighed, knowing he needed to calm the fuck down— but, Taeyeon.. but their date night.. “Normally we would’ve left her with Namjoon and Jisoo, but obviously that isn’t an option.”

“Cool, we’re the second choice. Nice.” Jimin wasn’t truly hurt by his friend’s careless reveal, only chuckling as he reassured them of the best.

“Shit, Jimin, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just she knows them bet—“

“Tae, be quiet before I throw this apple sauce at you.”

Taehyung’s mouth was glued shut.

“Just go out and have fun, alright? We’ll look after Taeyeon, she’s in good hands. You seem stressed out as hell, I dunno, maybe even fuck it out while you’re at it.”

Tae simply sighed, detaching himself from Jungkook’s arm to press a soft kiss onto Taeyeon’s head, bidding his temporary goodbyes.

“Okay, well.. we’re leaving. We should be back soon. Thanks, again.”

"Thanks guys, don't hesitate to call us if you need to!" Jungkook chirped, a bit less worried than his husband. Surprisingly, Taehyung seemed to be the one who was always extra, extra protective and worried about separating from their little daughter. Now, Kook was a worrier himself, but he never thought he'd be the one tugging at the elder to finally be able to let go of being a father for just one second.

Kook's eyes met with the little doe eyes their daughter mirrored, his toothy grin growing as she quickly resumed her attention towards the tall man. He might've looked a bit intimidating at first, but everyone quickly learned that he was probably the softest one of them all.

Jungkook pulled Taehyung with him quickly, closing the door behind them before heading towards their car. They haven't been able to get this kind of time to be a couple for quite a while, and both of them were excited-- and anxious. It was routine by now with their child, and breaking it was harder than it seemed. BUT, fuck, did they need it. Stress was no joke with these men. Work, eat, sleep, clean, shit... Take care of the baby, make time for each other?

It wasn't easy, but they were a team. And did they make a damn good one.

"You look good." Jungkook grasped for Tae's hand to hold it cutely by the car. "We should take a picture of this rare occasion of both of us being properly put together at the same time for once."

“You’re right. This is rare as fuck..” Taehyung’s shoulders dropped to a less unnatural position, deep-set brows resuming to their place, ripening his facial muscles. He hooked an arm around Jungkook’s delicate waist, pulling him in until their sides touched. “Let the photographer do the honors, ey?” Cocky as ever, the elder’s hand uninvitingly reached inside of Koo’s back pocket, searching for the younger’s phone whilst he hummed into their short-lived kiss. Tae pulled away with a dorky smile, angling the high-tech device towards the starry sky, a wash of light shining down on them as if the cluster of stars themselves were on their side; working towards getting them the perfect picture.

It was cheesy— every second of it— but, Taehyung found his anxiety crumbling the longer they spent taking silly photos, so he said: ‘fuck it’.

“I like this one, you look like a full course meal.” Tae nudged his husband’s side, believable as he mercilessly teased. “Ah, okay. We should get going before Joon thinks we’ve bailed or something, you know he always thinks of the worst.” The elder climbed onto the passenger seat, twisting his body to reach for the seatbelt. “How much do you wanna bet Jisoo is holding him back from making a phone call right now?”

Jungkook's bunny-like grin grew at the compliment, the apple of his cheeks tinted with a rosy hue. He grabbed his cell phone back from his husband before sitting down in the driver's seat, deciding to post their selfie on his Instagram.

"I bet she took his phone away already. If not, they'll see our pretty picture." Kook scrunched his nose before placing his phone down in his front pocket. He starts the car and backs out on the driveway, giving their home one last glance before driving off.

"I'm excited, honestly. We haven't had a second for ourselves lately." The younger sighed, eyes flickering to keep his attention on the traffic. With one hand on the steering wheel, the other reached over to smooth over Taehyung's thigh as if to soothe him.. Koo could easily tell the elder was still having a bit of separation anxiety for leaving their daughter with their friends... "Let's enjoy this to the fullest, don't think too much. You know what would be nice? A few drinks to loosen up a bit."

“Yeah, I need that.” Taehyung knew Koo could see right through him. It was no secret that the elder’s mind lingered somewhere else; Taeyeon, to be exact. Tae knew he was extremely overprotective, it was never something he’d felt ashamed of in the past. What could you expect from someone who grew up in a hostile environment when they were younger?— it pained him to think this way, but.. If his own father could raise a hand at him, what would a stranger be capable of doing? Of course Tae didn’t think any of their friends would obtain such malice, nor were they strangers to Taeyeon. The opposite, in fact. Each and every one of their hyungs held a special place in the girl’s heart. The elder guessed that his past’s trauma arose now that he was a father himself. Taehyung wanted to do better.

Jungkook's smile didn't falter from his face the entire ride, the faint tugging of his lips in excitement a constant reminder of how relieved he actually is to be able to get some time alone to focus on his friends-- and especially his husband for the night. He pulled up into the restaurant parking lot, the scent coming off the building already hitting their noses even as they sat outside in their car. Kook inhaled with a content sigh, leg almost jumping in excitement. He was a foodie after all-- and since he finally has a stable income along with Taehyung, he's never had to worry whether or not there'd be food on the table. Cheesy one might say, but once in a while the younger still enjoyed to microwave some noodles on occasion either way.

"We're here." He cooed joyfully as he clicked the seatbelt off to lean over to the passenger seat, placing a haste kiss on Taehyung's cheek. He lingered, letting his lips hover over the elders skin. Taking a moment, he drank in the view. Taehyung has always been the most handsome man that Jungkook had ever laid eyes on, and as the years passed by quickly, that still never changed. One would say Taehyung only became hotter, aging like a fine wine.

"You look so good tonight... I won't be able to keep my eyes off you." Kook smiled, cupping Taehyung's cheek to draw him in for a proper kiss.

Taehyung giggled in the midst of their kiss, the sound so small and indistinct, but in the calming stillness of a parked vehicle it was impossible for its vibrations to go over one’s head. It definitely went noticed by the culprit himself, who blushed at the abrupt realization that even after many years spent by Koo’s side, the latter always knew how to make him feel beautiful..

“Thanks. You look really good too, baby..” Tae licked over his lips, able to still taste Jungkook despite the younger having pulled away. “Fuck, okay. Let’s go in; I’m hungry and Joon’s probably losing it by now.”

“Where the hell were you guys? We’ve been waiting for what—“ Namjoon’s eyes flickered down to his watch, “—fifteen minutes?”

Taehyung snorted, “What do you want us to do? Get down on the ground and bow at your feet?”

“You know what? Hell yea—“

Jisoo stepped in, speaking on behalf of her husband, “No need for any major bows here.. Ah, please sit down. Joon’s extra dramatic when he’s hungry.”

"You're not you when you're hungry." Jungkook recited the old commercial with a giggle, shaking his head at how bad it was-- but so funny to his young mind. He sat down in the booth across from Jisoo, with Taehyung sliding down next to him to sit across from Joon.

"Fifteen minutes is precious cooking time at a place like this, Kook. Don't joke--"

"Won't happen again hyung!" Jungkook saluted clearly, his toothy grin too effective towards Joon-- whether he wanted to admit it or not. His bunny-like smile would never cease to work as a secret weapon...

"Whatever." Namjoon grumbled as he picked up the digital device on the table used to order their food.

"How have you guys been?" Jisoo chirped as she glanced over at the little tablet, clicking occasionally to help navigate Joon's confused behavior towards the device.

"Stressed." Jungkook sighed, leaning his head against Taehyung's shoulder. "Having a child is no joke, there's never a dull day. But I love it, though." Kook mused, waiting for their turn with the tablet, reaching out for it when Jisoo had completely taken over to order for her and her husband. He stares at the contents for a moment, showing Tae the various choices of alcohol, hovering with his finger over the stronger drinks with a coy eyebrow.

“You know me too well.” Taehyung returned the favor, imitating Koo’s raised brow before pointing at the drink of his choice; Tae was aware he needed to chillax. And alcohol never disappoints.

Once they were finished ordering their starting drinks, the elder dismissed the tablet to the side. He scooted closer to Jungkook until they were practically squished together in spite of the extra space; playing with his husband’s fingers from under the table.

“Yeah, Taeyeon’s a handful.” The corner of Taehyung’s lips twitched upwards as he amusingly breathed out through his nose, mind tracing back to their daughter. “But she’s cute though, so it makes up for it.” The elder turned his head to look at Kook, “Also, this guy right here is pretty good with babies.”

Jisoo voiced out her agreement, reminded of the older days when Jungkook would help her with Yuna once he was done with school. Now her friend was married, and caring after a baby of his own.. Proud was an understatement in Jisoo’s mind. Every time she looked at Koo her heart swelled; the boy she once knew had grown into a man. But then again, Jungkook had always been really mature. In a sense, it’s the same guy Jisoo’s always considered her close friend— and fed on the daily.. “Joon could learn a few things..”

The mumbling under the older woman’s breath didn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon, who came to his own defense as quickly as lightning strikes the ground, “I showed up to the wrong preschool once!”

Taehyung butted in, confused but amused, “You forgot where your son goes to school?” Tae’s shoulders vibrated as he laughed, suddenly feeling much better about his own mishaps as a parent.

“The drinks can come out anytime now..” Namjoon tried to swerve away from the topic; his failed attempt at being sly earned himself a couple rounds of laughter.

Yeah, maybe Taehyung needed this..

As the tray of drinks finally arrived, they were left to sip on whatever they've ordered while waiting for their dinner. Jisoo and Namjoon both opted for the simple choice; beer. While Jungkook was an avid enthusiast of alcohol, whether it be beer, tequila, wine... He did settle for a large glass of wine, perfect for the occasion on his end-- and perfect as it always got him pleasantly warmed up.

"Ah, I'm so hungry...." Jungkook groaned, waiting for that big, fat juicy steak he'd seen on the screen. Meat was his one true love-- if you'd disregard the fact that his husband existed. He worked out just as avidly as he did in their younger days.. Well, tried to, and therefore his appetite was comparable to that of a horse.

"You're always hungry!" Jisoo joked, slapping Joon's shoulder as she laughed.

"Yah! Why'd you hit me?!" Namjoon nudged her shoulder back with his dimpled smile.

"Ah, food!" Jungkook's big, doe eyes sparkled with a childlike joy when the food finally arrived, jaw hanging open in pure admiration.

Taehyung chimed out loud along with Koo, ignoring Jisoo’s and Namjoon’s playful banter in the background. All that was on his mind at the moment was, ‘must eat’. Taeyeon snuck in there once in a while, but Tae trusted Jimin and his boyfriend. They’ve always returned his baby back in one piece, so that’s that. Maybe the alcohol was helping; he wasn’t as restless.

“Fuuck,” Taehyung knocked his head back, resting it against the backrest of the booth whilst he chewed on the piece of meat, savoring the burst of flavor that’d just popped in his mouth. “Koo, here.” It didn’t matter that they ordered the same meal, Tae still cut out a small piece for his husband to try. He blew on it before guiding it into Jungkook’s mouth, “Fucking delicious, right?”

Jungkook chomped the piece of meat off the fork with his bunny teeth, chewing it happily. His eyes widened as he nodded, humming in content. Food did taste better when it was from your husband's plate, confirmed. "So fucking good, oh my god.. " Koo agreed. Both men were just feeding off of each other's plates at this point, letting out all their curses and groans occasionally. Being censored on the daily was harder than they thought, and finally letting it all out--- somewhat satisfying.

Namjoon eyed the couple with a mix of disgust for their cheesiness, yet the dimples proved that he couldn't hold his smile for the two. They were grown ass men, and yet they acted like dorky the teens they’ve always been the moment they are together like this. It was endearing.

"What? You want me to feed you too?" Jisoo nudged Joon with a coy smile on her lips, immediately laughing when he shook his head.

"Definitely not." He joked back. He hated to share his food-- but so did Jisoo, so it was okay.

The evening went on for a bit, everyone talking-- rather, Namjoon rambling about everything and nothing while the rest ate, drank, and drank....

Jungkook couldn't help but continuously look over at his husband. He was just so fucking hot, when was the last time he was able to truly admire him like this? Forever ago.. A few drinks in and Koo's cheeks were hot, hazy eyes only half listening to the rambling from the other side of the table, nodding absentmindedly. His hand, however, decided to snake over to the elder's lap, gently rubbing up and down the soft fabrics, feeling the firm muscle underneath.

Taehyung was just as buzzed; their conversations only stuck with him for a couple of seconds before he reached for his glass of wine, downing the remainder of the scarlet drink. He was loosening up, or so he thought.. The meat of the elder’s thigh clenched, and his dimmed eyes averted downwards towards the source of the unexpected caress on his leg. With barely any space between the two, Tae awkwardly shifted around in his seat— however, he didn’t bother on pushing Jungkook’s hand away.

He liked it..

It’s been a hot minute since his husband put this much attention on him. The touch was small, but even such delicacy had Taehyung’s hormones in a twist..

“What are you doing?” He leaned in to whisper into Koo’s ear, resting his own hand on the younger’s thigh. Tae told himself that it was for balance, but even he knew that wasn’t exactly the truth. “Fuck, you’re hard,” his hand had slithered upwards to Jungkook’s crotch, groping his husband’s cock through the fabric of Kook’s pants.

"What are you doing? ah.." Jungkook's thighs quivered, gently bucking up into Tae's hand as he desperately tried to act unaffected. Not that the other couple would notice-- they were just as buzzed, just rambling, occasionally bantering... Koo barely noticed their presence at this point.

All he could think about was Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung...

"You just look so hot, babe, how could I not be hard?.." He huffed quietly, the hand on Tae's thigh mirroring the elders movements by palming his husband's cock right back, able to feel the shape and girth of it through the fabrics. "Shit, what I'd do to have you on your knees below this table instead..."

Taehyung’s shrunken pupils vigilantly switched between his husband and the other couple in front of them, until he realized there was no need..

Joon and Jisoo weren’t quite at their level, but it was obvious the beer had gotten to their systems if the cheesy mumbles and sudden display of affection were anything to go by. They were never cheesy— in front of them, at least.

“Don’t tempt me, we’ll probably get banned from this place or something..” Tae’s drunken smile beamed in the dimmed lighting before his lips abruptly took the shape of an ‘o’. Embarrassed, he nuzzled his nose in the dip of Jungkook’s neck, continuing to rub and squeeze Koo’s prominent bulge at a fixed pace despite crumbling underneath the younger’s teasing himself. “It’s been so long since I really got to feel you like this, and it’s been too long since you’ve felt me; really felt me..”

“Let us in on the secrets! Don’t be so secretiveee, it’s not nice, y’know.” Jisoo loudly sipped on her water’s straw, lips closing in on the frail plastic after her third try— her aim when drunk was amusing.

“This feels like all the way back to, uh, second grade was it? When all my buds talked shit behind my back ‘n crap.”

The woman pouted, “Awe, babe, fuck those kids. Look at you now, with mee! They wish they had me.”

Namjoon understood in spite of her strong slurring, “They’ll never have you, mine.”

Taehyung turned to look back at Jungkook, face reading; ‘what the fuck’. “Wanna get out of here? Kinda want some.. privacy.”

Jungkook couldn't even play it cool at this point, his eager nodding proving just how badly he wanted to get out of there as well-- if his throbbing erection wasn't enough to go by. "Yeah, please." Kook’s ragged breath whispered back, withdrawing his hand from Taehyung's crotch to inhale deeply. "Follow me... I have a fun idea." Since they couldn't go home, nor did they have a hotel room for the night-- there was only one option the younger could think of. A fun one, in his own mind. It's been a long fucking time since they did something a little risky... Jungkook was gonna try to say something to the other couple, but it was easier than he expected to have them accept their disappearance, so he simply got up, leaning down to whisper once again into Tae's ear.

"I'll be waiting in the bathroom... You have two minutes. No more, no less." He cooed, a mischievous grin on his lips as he placed a gentle kiss on the elders cheek before strolling off towards the bathroom area, closing the door behind him. The anticipation-- the small amount of waiting was enough to rile him up even further. And surely he hoped it did the same to Taehyung.

Fuck the bathroom, I’ll willingly get down on my knees right at this second— Is what Taehyung wanted to say, but he was far too stunned to even respond with a dumb nod of his head. Jungkook had strutted away without waiting for an answer, and for that Tae was glad.. Every time the younger asserted his natural dominance, Taehyung was left a flustered, unable-to-form-coherent-sentences mess. The elder was convinced the alluring words that slipped past Koo’s lips tasted like honey; they were sweet and sticky, making it awfully hard for Taehyung to forget them.

“I’ll be waiting in the bathroom.. You have two minutes. No more, no less.”

The man didn’t realize he’d been stalling until Jisoo asked him where Jungkook had gone off to.

“He’s.. somewhere. I’m going to the restroom, I’ll be back.” He kept it short ‘n sweet, knowing that whatever was going to happen in the secluded space would be anything but. Jungkook liked taking his time, and Taehyung enjoyed taking all his husband had to offer. The elder loved drowning himself in the moment, which is why he’d grown keen of using his beloved camera for other reasons.. Taehyung looked back on the films a lot— it was hot, and it gave him an excuse to miss Jungkook whilst he was away at work. More often than not Tae couldn’t act on his sexual desires; only settling for giving Koo a messy hand job before they called it a night. But today? It was going to be different.

Taehyung’s eager hand slowly turned on the doorknob, brows arched in anticipation when he’d met Jungkook’s gaze on the other side. It was a family restroom, meaning it was quite small. There were no stalls, only space meant for one. Or two..

Tae’s back was pressed up against the door as he pushed it shut, making sure to lock it. He stayed still in his place, arms shyly tucked from behind him. “I think I went over two minutes, daddy.”

"You did, puppy." The corner of Jungkook's lip curved into a smirk as he moved forward, barely a few steps before he was already towering over his husband. Internally, he was eager.. Impatient in every sense of the word. But tonight was a once in a while occasion, and it didn't occur often enough for him to waste it on a quick fuck. He'd been longing for this opportunity to truly feel Taehyung again, and boy.. was his body itching to feel everything.

"Can't even follow one simple instruction.." Jungkook tsk'd playfully, pressing up his body against Tae's, deliberately brushing their crotches together to make sure the elder felt just how hard he was for him already. "What do I do with a boy that misbehaves..." Now, Taehyung was anything but a boy-- but making the elder feel smaller was one of his favorite things to do, belittling him until he was nothing but a whiny, pleading sweetheart. Kook grasped Tae's chin in his long, tattooed grasp to demand eye contact, tilting his head lightly to the side like a curious pup would. "Do you need a reminder of why you call me daddy?"

“Hmm... I think I do..” Taehyung’s tongue peeked out from the small, surprised opening of his flushed lips, brushing over the moisturized skin and wetting it with its saliva. A hitched gasp followed suit, emphasizing the gloss-like effect he’d made for himself; Taehyung knew Koo was a sucker for the posh look. Slowly, his lips relaxed, and Taehyung’s intense gaze clashed with his husband’s. He allowed the latter to feel superior by standing tall before him, while Tae cowered in his place. The delicate, firm hold on his chin was beginning to make itself known, but the elder didn’t dare move out of Jungkook’s clutch. “Remind me, Koo.. why do I call you daddy?” Taehyung’s hands gripped at the younger’s hips, stifling his faint moans as their crotches pressed against one another.

It’s been too fucking long.

“What makes you worthy of that title?” He kept on pushing, wishing Kook would drop the foreplay and fuck him numb once and for all.. The elder was less patient, but he was just as needy.

Jungkook's lips curled into a smirk to serve as a response to Taehyung's daring words, knowing just how needy his husband was to just be stuffed with his cock already. But what the younger loved even more, was the buildup-- to make Tae so flushed and desperate that when he finally gets what he desires, it'll be more than worth the wait.

"Ah, my baby has already forgotten...." He huffs through heavy breaths, leaning forward to kiss his husband. As his tongue claimed the elder's mouth as his own to explore as he wishes, his hands hungrily roamed down his body, feeling and groping at every curve before they began to unbutton Tae's shirt, exposing his flushed skin. Without wasting another second, Jungkook's hands smoothed up Tae's stomach, his thumbs swiping over the elder's nipples softly-- at first. He groaned into the hot kiss, not stopping his hungry ministrations all while continuously teasing Tae's perky nipples, lightly pinching them between the calloused pads of his fingers.

Taehyung’s frail body squirmed in delight, the skin of his chest buried in small goosebumps whilst Jungkook spared him no mercy on one of his most responsive areas. The filthy noises of mild fulfillment scratched at the back of the elder’s throat, calling out for vocal release only to get pushed back down by Kook’s tongue.

“Mmhm..” Tae vaguely hummed into the heated kiss, hot puffs of air slipping past his nose, warming Jungkook’s already sultry skin. Everything about the younger was hot; like a predictable summer’s day.. Just one kiss and Taehyung began melting against him, his smaller body frame molding against the barely-noticeable dip from Jungkook’s chest to his pelvis. Eager, Tae never stopped rubbing their crotches together, driving his husband’s hips towards his own.

“Fuck, babe...” Tae whimpered once he pulled away from the kiss, chest rising while his lungs worked to retrieve back air. Taehyung’s head tipped backwards, bottom lip caught in between his teeth as he nonverbally encouraged Koo to continue playing with his sensitive nipples.

“Daddy.. please film me.” Tae might not have his camera at hand, but something about the quality of a phone turned him on. The elder wants to be able to look back on this moment.. He wants to be able to see his reflection in the mirror while Jungkook fucks him— phone held tightly in his hand. Tae wants Koo to focus on the way his cock sinks deep into him, catching Taehyung’s loud, hiccupy moans on video. They’ve filmed themselves a few times in the past, but Tae’s camera was set up on a tripod. Now, they had the opportunity to pilot a phone how they pleased. Jungkook could pan in on whatever he wanted, get a close-up of the goodies.. “Please, daddy. I’ll be a good boy... I’ll squeeze around you so tight. I’ll be so warm.. fuck— I’ll be your little bitch until you stuff me full of your cum. Then I’ll be nothing but your cum dumpster..”

Jungkook's cock twitched heavily beneath the fabrics, the thought alone of filming his husband in such a scenario bringing him more excitement than he expected. Tae’s cameras were fun, the quality superb... but using his phone seemed so much more intimate, it had the younger heated in excitement.

"Fuck yes... I'll stuff you so well. But first..." Kook placed his hands on the elders shoulders, using his strength to force him down on his knees. With a swift motion, he unbuckled his pants and tugged them down, too eager to wait for his cock to be engulfed by Tae’s plushy lips. His cock bobbed when set free, letting it freely taunt Taehyung as he dug for his cellphone in his back pocket. "Suck on it, puppy." His low, raspy tone was laced with lust, eyes staring at Taehyung's lips through the camera screen on his phone when he pointed it down from his view. "When it's nice and wet, I'll fuck your tight ass until you can barely walk out of here."

“Whatever you say, daddy..” His warm hands skimmed upwards from Jungkook’s beautifully muscular thighs to the latter’s base, where Taehyung took his time feeling the younger’s cock. He began by lazily flicking his wrist, multitasking while the other hand kneaded his husband’s balls. Taehyung played innocent, staring up at the camera whilst his tongue circled around the head; his long eyelashes fluttering in a coy manner.

“Daddy.. daddy, you’re so fucking hot when you’re in control.” Closing his eyes, Tae leaned back in, slowly taking all of Jungkook into the warmth of his mouth. He’s had plenty of practice, his gag reflex was practically nonexistent at this point in their relationship. Taehyung guessed all of those times he’d sucked Jungkook off under the covers when their friends were around— or when he got too impatient and gave Koo the suck of his life in the middle of the grocery store’s parking lot. Not to mention, the birthdays when he’d woken Jungkook up with his limp cock throat-deep in Taehyung’s mouth. They all paid off when it came to unplanned moments such as this one.

Tae hollowed out his cheeks, bobbing his head as he dragged his tongue from Kook’s base to the tip, leaving a trail of saliva along the hardened girth. He’d gotten so consumed in the moment, that Taehyung had forgotten all about the camera.

"Whoa, so pretty when you take my cock like that..." Jungkook's voice was shaky, already feeling the muscles in his thighs tense up. Taehyung knew exactly how to suck him off properly, every drag and movement done with the utmost purpose, hitting every sensitive nerve that riles up Kook to the max.

"I can tell you love it, fuck..." He stated as if it was a fact, and it was. Kook kept one hand gently combing through Tae's dark curls, brushing his fringe away to be able to get a proper visual of the elder through his phone screen, focusing on how his husbands plush lips stretch with the younger's girth, the slick saliva on his silky skin glistening even in his digital eye. "Okay, baby, that's enough... Spit on it and get up, pull down your pants and bend over the sink. Need a good view of your pretty ass."

Taehyung might be a natural-born brat in other aspects, but he never disobeyed Kook’s orders inside of the bedroom. Or a public restroom.. No matter how much Tae wanted to keep going, he did as his husband told, leisurely withdrawing from Jungkook’s cock as if it was the last thing he wanted to do. The elder stalled at the tip, glistening eyes peeling open to meet the phone’s unwavering perspective from above him, keeping a digital memory of Taehyung’s lightly damped, crimson cheeks. His swollen lips pulled off with a loud pop, eyes dimmed as they switched downwards to his husband’s cock. He gathered saliva, swishing the warm, thick substance around his tongue before allowing it to drip down on Jungkook’s already-drenched head.

“It’s so wet..” Tae’s thumb rubbed deep circles on the small slit, moaning to himself at the sly muscle spasms in Jungkook’s clenched thighs. Once Taehyung was satisfied, he followed through with the second order. Shimmying out of the tight jeans that hugged around his thick ass, Tae let them drop to his ankles along with his boxers.

He really was one impatient boy.. He couldn’t wait to get utterly fucked; Taehyung was always horny for cock.

With each hand gripping onto the side of the sink until his knuckles turned white, the elder stood before Koo, back slightly arched whilst his soft stomach pressed up against the cold surface.

“You like what you’re seeing, daddy?” He spoke, looking at Jungkook through the mirror, feeling more cocky now that he wasn’t kneeling down in front of his husband.

"Mhm." Jungkook hummed in approval, his eyes dilated with lust as he dumbfoundedly stared at Taehyung's full cheeks. He's seen his husband naked more times than he could ever count, but every single time it turned him on just as much-- He was insatiable when it came to Kim Taehyung. He angled the camera down as he approached Tae from behind, using his free hand to grab a handful of the flesh, squeezing hard just to see the skin redden underneath his fingers, watching the fat protrude in between his digits. "I love what I'm seeing... Fuck, I've been thinking about doing this to you all day--work was dreadful."

Jungkook's blunt nails dragged across the tanned skin, leaving faint pink marks in it's rake. He spread his cheek with one hand, just enough for him to see his unused entrance. By now the elder had gotten used to Jungkook's sizable stretch without much preparation, although some would still be needed... It had been a while after all. Kook switched the angle to the reflection, making a show out of the way he sucks his finger until it's nice and slick, however wasting no time in massaging Taehyung's delicate rim, and then finally sliding his middle finger inside of his heated flesh. He films Tae's expressions through the mirror before switching back to filming the way he drags his finger in and out of him. A low groan slips past Kook's lips, his cock throbbing as it rests against Taehyung's ass, still wet and impatiently waiting for it's turn to feel the warmth it craves.

"Stretched so easily tonight-- you're that cockhungry, huh." Kook digs his finger deeper past his knuckle, glancing back at the reflection to watch the blissful expressions on his lover's face.

The elder wasn’t given the chance to come up with a vague answer, only mewling softly as he felt his insides grip around Jungkook’s finger; the squeeze so tight while it clenched and unclenched that it almost forced Kook’s single digit out. Still, Taehyung worked on regaining his breaths, relaxing his muscles for a deeper stretch. Jungkook’s cock must’ve plunged deep into him over a million times, but that never meant Tae would lose his tightness. Every time felt just like the first.

“Oh my g-god.. move your finger— please.” Taehyung deliberately squeezed harder, squirming in delight when he felt the pad of Jungkook’s digit brush against his prostate.

Jungkook's lips tugged into a light smirk, a hot breath huffing through them at the beautiful sound of his husband pleading for more. Everything his man did turned him on, but the begging.. It was next level music to his ears. He kept the camera close enough to be able to see the skin of his finger coated in Tae's juices as he pulled out, only to shove in a second along with the first when he pushed it back inside, effortlessly with the sheer amount of force he used to refill the elders tight heat. Kook curled his fingers ever so slightly, just enough to reach that sweet spot better as he began to curl and uncurl his fingers a few times, relishing in the visible contractions around his digits.

"Your ass is squeezing me so tight... Ahh, the camera loves you.." He groaned, now fucking his fingers in and out of Taehyung, his stable hold on the phone capturing every single drag, clench and wet squelch. "You think you could take me already? It's gonna be a tight fit, but fuck... I want to feel your ass crush my cock."

As if the rest of his body was beginning to give out, Taehyung’s head dipped forward, panting heavily until he could make out the hot puffs of air grazing against his own chest.

“D-daddy— fuuck..” His hips rocked into the younger’s nimble fingers, relishing in the toe-curling way Jungkook teased his prostate. “Y-yeah, ‘m ready. First— a-ahh..” Taehyung hissed, raising his head once more to look at his husband through the mirror, long fringe reaching his pleading eyes. “Can I have a taste? Wanna suck on your fingers.” Taehyung didn’t shift eye-contact; eager to swirl his hot tongue around the same fingers that’d been deep inside of him.

Jungkook's small dimples grew more prominent along with his smile, crooking a coy eyebrow as he slowly popped his fingers out of Tae's stretched hole, leaning forward to press his chest against his lover's back, his wet cock pressed between Taehyung's cheeks. He brought his slick digits to Taehyung's hungry mouth, filming the reflection to get a proper view of both men.

"Here you go baby. Daddy's fingers are coated in your lovely juices... Have a taste, give me a good show."

The hand closest to Jungkook’s let go of its numbed grasp on the sink, instead reaching for his husband’s wrist as Taehyung enveloped the two fingers whole. The elder moaned; one that advanced from deep in his chest and rang throughout the otherwise quiet restroom.

He tasted sweet. Tae fucking bet he’s the sweetest Jungkook’s ever had..

He grinded his ass against Kook’s pelvis, staring at his man through the mirror with an intensified gaze, tongue lapping around and between the delicious digits, lips puckered whilst Taehyung bobbed his head. Thick drool dripped from the corner of his mouth, running down his slobbered chin; but he didn’t mind. Having yet to avert his strong eye-contact, Tae arched his back further to really press against his husband, having fun teasing the hell out of him.

“Mmm~..” Taehyung’s lips were past Jungkook’s tattooed knuckles, sucking roughly on the latter’s fingers as if it was the younger’s cock tucked in between his cheeks.

Jungkook's normally strong facade of stoism struggled to remain intact right at this moment. Too many things went on, from Tae's ever so piercing gaze, the way his tongue lapped at the younger's fingers, and last but definitely not fucking least; his plump ass grinding against Kook's aching cock. It was too much, and it had been way too long. Jungkook didn't care anymore, his expression morphing into that of pure admiration and lust for his husband, gawking like a dumbass at the show he did so kindly ask for.

"Fuck, that's hot... you're so fucking hot, puppy." He growled lowly, almost frustrated at how Taehyung was allowed to be this gorgeous. It should be illegal. Kook watched the elder work his fingers for a short moment before he had enough, withdrawing his hand to harshly smack his husband's ass. "You're too sexy, it drives me fucking crazy.." Another smack, this time keeping his palm on his ass before squeezing it hard between his fingers, spreading the cheek to grant himself better access to grind his tip against the lightly gaped hole. "Shit, look at this... All mine." Kook huffs under heavy breaths, panning camera down Taehyung's prominent cleavage of his spine runs down his back, until the lens settled on where the head of Jungkook's length prodded at Tae's entrance.

"Move backwards baby, fuck yourself on my cock." Jungkook commands, loud enough to clearly capture his voice in the recording-- knowing Taehyung will love looking back and hearing these specific words.

Taehyung’s body jolted forward with every firm, jaw-clenching slap to his ass; his cheek grew tender the more Jungkook’s palm came in contact with the agitated skin, leaving behind a noticeable outline of his hand to linger for days on end. If the video didn’t serve as enough of a reminder, the sting sure as hell will. The elder was on the brink of crying out loud, having to bite down on his lip to prevent himself from screaming Jungkook’s name.

“Feels so good..” Taehyung sank back until the slick head of Jungkook’s cock popped through the gateway to his familiar insides, instantly clenching down on his husband’s skin as a warm greeting. “Fuck, fuck... so big, daddy.” Moving backwards until he nudged Kook’s pelvis, Tae took a minute to adjust to the length, muttering filthy curses under his heated breath. “Is that tight enough for you, hm? You’re so hard inside of me, ahh..” Once he deemed himself ready, Taehyung slowly began fucking himself on Jungkook’s cock, stopping at the tip before he plopped back in with more force, wiggling his hips against Kook before repeating the action. “So hard, I can feel you twitching, Koo..”

"Ah, fuck-- Taehyung..." Jungkook doesn't hold back letting his husband know how good his ass feels. He runs his flat palm down the prominent line on Tae's back where his spine hides, keeping his hips still for a moment to allow the elder to fuck himself on his cock. Kook keeps the camera focused on the way his slick length disappears inside the stretched hole, in awe of the view through the screen. "So tight, you're so fucking tight-- good god... How could I ever get enough of this?" He hisses through his ragged breath. When satisfied with the good work Taehyung put into getting himself used to Kook's size, the younger decides that it's time to reward his lover.

With a rough snap of his hips, Jungkook thrusts forward to meet Tae's ass as it moved back against him, the loud echo of their skin slapping together drawing a guttural moan from the tattooed male.

"You're such a good boy for me." He redirects the camera back towards the reflection to capture Taehyung's jolting body as he began to build a momentum to the way he fucked into him, slow but rhythmical, forceful but precise. "Aren't you? My little good boy?"

A loud, unavoidable gasp left past Taehyung’s loose lips as he hunched over the sink, toes tightly curled in his shoes as one of his many reactions to Jungkook’s quickened thrust. His hands were balled up into fists; forearms resting on each side of the sink whilst he arched his ass further back. “Y-your good boy, yes,” the elder rasped out, voice as thin as ice, and tone as unstable as his legs while Jungkook fucked him. “Hngh.. I love you, fuck me harder.”

If harder was what Taehyung wanted, Jungkook was in no position to deny his wishes. He knows just how whipped the elder was for his muscles, and the endless hours spent building and maintaining them surely didn't go unnoticed by his husband. Rather the opposite, Kook loved the attention-- ever since they were younger, the elder seemed to have a special fascination towards the strength Jungkook possessed. He allows his body to serve as a response to Taehyung's request, the hand on his hip digging harder into his tanned skin, holding him in place as the younger increases the force of his thrusts, at first dragging his entire length in and out to ensure that every single inch of Tae's insides feels the friction of being filled to the brim.

"Oh my god.." Jungkook huffs out, throwing his head back, screwing his eyes shut in rapture as he pounds mindlessly, focusing only on how good it feels right at this moment to just fuck his husband dumb. The phone in his hand became less of a priority at this point, shaky and blurred, however it captured every wet sound of their bodies joining, every breathy grunt, and every single squeak of the sink as Kook's powerful hips jerked Taehyung's body forward roughly.

The gnawing weight of a hundred curse-words on Taehyung’s tongue never subsided. Every invasive jerk of his husband’s quick hips made him want to scream out in rapture; to sob from the overwhelming feeling of Jungkook’s rigid cock entering him over and over again until he was so fucked out that his eyes no longer saw the faded blue-wash of the tiles on the spinning bathroom wall.

Taehyung fuckin’ loved that. He felt as if he was floating on cloud nine; as if he was reliving his brief encounter with drugs when he was a young teen. His husband’s fucking was a heavy drug, there was never a time where Taehyung didn’t enjoy the high it gave him.

“I love it when you put me in my place, hmph!” Tae’s voice was sultry— breathy. Still as deep, but far more hitched. Every menacing smack of Jungkook’s pelvis against his rosy skin stole his breath away, gasps getting caught in the man’s throat before they were reduced to soft mewls. “F-fuck, daddy’s fat cock never disappoints..” The elder straightened his spine, caramel shoulder blades flexed as he depended on his weak arms to keep him in place. Taehyung stared at Kook’s diverse expressions through the mirror; internally praising himself. Moaning, one of his arms blindly reached backwards until his hand groped Jungkook’s ass, feeling the muscles twitch with every thrust. He tipped his head back against Kook’s shoulder, turning his head until Taehyung could smell the odor of built-up sweat on the small dip of Jungkook’s pale skin.

His back remained lightly arched, driven forward from every slam to his wet insides. “Ah, fuck.. yes, daddy!” The elder’s nose was burrowed in the crook of Kook’s neck, brows twitching slightly as a sudden warmth approached his lower stomach.

"Love when you call me daddy." Jungkook breathes out his words in a haste, grunts following with every thrust, smacking his pelvis against Taehyung's plump ass to feel it jiggle against him. He snakes one strong arm around his husband's torso, the one holding the cellphone to angle it back to film the reflection, as the other keeps a tight grip on his hip to ensure his lover doesn't fly forward from the rough effort he puts into every sloppy thrust.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, baby. Look at your pretty, big cock--fuck.." Kook couldn't look away from the view in the mirror, the elder's body was erotic in this position, skin glistening with sweat, cock swollen and red, looking as if it was about to burst at any second with how well Kook fucked into him.

"A-are you close? God, I'm gonna cum... fill your ass up so well, I want you to hold it in until we get home, okay?" Jungkook nudges the elder's cheek with his nose to bring them face to face. "Kiss me, wanna taste your pretty moans as you cum."

Taehyung enthusiastically attached his touch-starved lips to Jungkook’s smaller, sweeter ones. His warm hand extended upwards to eagerly cup his husband’s face, the pad of his thumb swiping across the younger’s scar whilst he deepened their messy kiss, low hums of approval ringing from profound in his rising chest. His squirming body jolted forward with more force, the ability to withstand Jungkook’s irregular thrusts slowly drained out of him, leaving Taehyung frail to every insignificant nudge.

“G-Gonna cum.. gonna cum so much..!” The elder leaned in once more, unable to take the empty feeling in his mouth. He generously sucked on Jungkook’s tongue, their drool running past his chin and slowly cascading down Taehyung’s neck, illuminating the way his Adam’s apple would bob with every forceful swallow. His husband’s spit was so warm. It was like medicine to his drained throat.. There came a time where Tae’s breathing was getting scarce; he pulled away with a soft gasp. His curtained eyes were glazed with fresh tears, vision blurry as he looked down at his swollen dick and the way it hit against the sink’s cooling edge.

So close..

“F-fuuck! Oh.. hngh, daddy, I’m gonna— A-aahh— ah.. hmm!” His high-pitched moans were muffled against Jungkook’s slick lips, mouth unmoving as Taehyung focused on giving his husband every drop of his filthy sounds.

He stayed still for a few seconds, twitching against Jungkook’s larger body, whining whilst his eyes fluttered shut.

“Fuck... I’m hungry.”

#fic: dining out #taekook smut #vkook smut #jungkook x taehyung #bts mxm #bts mxm smut #mxm smut #dom jungkook #sub taehyung #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #boymeetsmxm #bangtanarmynet #sombreboy

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star-anise · 4 years

Note

I don't know if this is crossing boundaries to ask so feel free to ignore, but do you have any advice for someone with rejection-sensitive dysphoria, an intolerance for ambiguity and a history of social ostracization / access to the In-Group being dependent on Some Unsafe Shit for figuring out where one stands with an online social circle? Like, if one really feels like they're being neglected / put on a shelf, but doesn't know how to address it without receiving platitudes that it's not

(insecurity ask cont.) Really that bad / wasn't intentional / sure they still LIKE one they just kept happening to be busy at the time - etc. Basically figuring a way through the situation if one doesn't want to do what the Anxiety wants, which is cut run and self isolate, but doesn't find the allistic normative reassurance of "oh no we really do want you around sweaty : )" reassuring or helpful in the least.

This is a live topic of discussion in my friend-groups, since my close social circle is like 95% people with a history of being bullied, serious brainweasels* around social shit and rejection, ASD and/or ADHD, and seriously geeky social skills. So my response is not like, “We have a Method! It works! I’m patenting it!” nearly so much as “Um... this is what seems not to have exploded too badly so far.” And I’m answering this publicly rather than privately because other people have useful things to contribute too.

*(Brainweasel = little nasty thing that eats your brain)

(Like seriously if anyone DOES have A Method I’m all ears because I still do the self-isolation self-destruct way too easily)

Anyway. THE GOOD STUFF (which got really long):

I’ve personally found that it helps to make it really clear to people that if something is wrong, I want to know. I literally say, “My personal definition of Hell is when I think I’m having a happy fun time with a friend who is enjoying themselves, but in reality, I’m annoying them and they secretly resent me for it. Please don’t put me in that situation.” It’s kind of the opposite of asking for validation--it’s trying to reduce my own emotional hypervigilance, and also shifting the burden of dealing with the problem to the other person. Now, if they find me annoying, they have to do something about it--either spend less time with me, or let me know what’s up.

Asking for things and saying “No is an okay answer!”

Being open about my wants and needs while also letting people know how much I’m willing to compromise. “I don’t know what anybody else is feeling, but for dinner I have a mild preference for pizza,” or “I’m in the kind of mood where I basically want someone to talk to about this creative project for an hour in a really intense, informed, and interested way that also doesn’t step on my creative vision’s toes, or I don’t want to talk about it at all. So unless someone really wants to talk about it, how’s the weather?”

If you can find people who are geeks about feelings and have done a lot of introspection and can be very honest, and basically didn’t think that Twitter thread about asking friends for consent for emotional labour was a bad thing? That’s probably going to help, since when you’re all in the middle of dealing with moderate-to-severe brainweasels that is the kind of wrangling that needs to happen.

Hacking into Dialectical Behaviour Therapy, if you can do it. I’ve had to explain to several people now: DBT is fundamentally about trying to unlearn you from a system of If I Only Behave A Certain Way, Life Will Finally Work Out, to having a more flexible, more adaptive set of skills that you can see in a kind of pro/con fashion and decide which of life’s sucky parts you’d rather deal with because it gets you your preferred set of upsides. The problem is: DBT kind of presents itself as a system of If You Only Behave A Certain Way, Life Will Finally Work Out! So especially for my Autistic friends, doing DBT, while useful, involves considerable arguing with the system, deciding which of it works for you and which of it doesn’t, and hacking it apart and rearranging it in your own idiosyncratic way. This isn’t actually failing to do DBT, it’s using the methods DBT teaches you on DBT itself.

Finding a therapist who can treat baseline-neurodivergent LGBTQ+ nerds with complex trauma IS difficult, but not impossible. Not every therapist can do it. (I personally am considering giving up finding one in my city, and making use of the temporary relaxation of restrictions on distance practice across jurisdictional boundaries thanks to COVID-19 and phoning up my old therapist a province over.) If you can’t get a personal recommendation, I recommend literally cold-emailing about a half-dozen likely suspects from Psychology Today or Theravive and asking them, “Do you have any training or experience in treating [geeks/adults with complex trauma/queer people/whatever has made therapists act like cats with boots on around you before]?”

To wildly veer back to your original question

Imagine something that someone could do for you that would make you feel warm and loved. Something that would take a minute or less to do. When you’re feeling unloved, say “I’m feeling down, could anyone do [this thing] for me?” That’s literally why I ask people to show me cat pictures--I have times when I feel sad and alone and like the entire world hates me, and that’s a VERY big feeling for anyone to step in and fill, so instead? I ask for cat pics.

This, I should add, required going back into my trauma memories and deprogramming the origin of my Nice Things Are Evil Poison If I Asked The Person To Be Nice To Me brainweasel. Which is part of why I’m so insistent on asking people not to put me in my personal Hell situation.

Like, sometimes with my clients, we literally create a restaurant menu of Things People Could Do If They Wanted To Be Nice To Me, ranging from cheap $5 items like cat pics and memes to $200 bottles of wine that would be getting married and taking out a mortgage together. Sometimes we talk Love Languages just to go through several different sensory modalities. Then, if creating that menu wasn’t scary enough, they start telling their friends what’s on the list. “I really like things with dragons on them” or "I love to know when somebody’s thinking of me even when I’m not there” or “I really wish I had someone to watch movies with”. This reduces the cognitive load if somebody wants to reach out to you but doesn’t know how.

Relatedly: If you’re in a bad mood and doing something to self-regulate, you might consider letting people know what’s going on. People who are merely being civil might interpret “I’m feeling terrible about myself today” as “You are now socially obligated to blow smoke up my ass”; moderating the statement with a positive attempt to make things better, like “I’m focusing on my shoes a lot today because I feel like crap but they make me happy” or “I’m going to go try to shake this awful mood with Netflix” removes that pressure because it’s a problem with a built-in solution, so they’re not socially impolite if they ignore it. If people want to be emotionally closer to you, it opens the door for them to either ask about your problem, or contribute to your solution (”Oooh, I do like those shoes”) (”Have you seen this new series?”).

Okay so

Here’s the other thing

When you’re used to the one being rejected, you can spend SO much energy trying to make relationships work, and when they don’t, you just kind of shut down and fall over

What if (if you scraped together enough spare Cope) you said to yourself, “Whatever is going on--whether it’s them, or me, or whatever--I am not getting my needs met, so I’m going to back away from them a bit and focus on finding something new? They may not be evil or bad, but I’m going to downgrade them on my priority list.”

Like I’m just saying: Think about it. Every once in a while it’s possible it isn’t your fault, but the other person... just isn’t up to being the kind of friend you need right now, and no effort of yours can improve them at this time, so you’re going to let them shape up if they can but start focusing your attention elsewhere.

I realize that’s like the social equivalent of asking a homeless person to dip into their savings and start a business. But, just... sometimes you just need better friends.

Okay, it’s 2am and I’ve run out of ideas. Anyone else?

#staranise original #trauma #brainweasels #bullying tw #tin-can-paladin

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pedropascalunofficial · 4 years

Text

My Cousin, Pedro Pascal

Ximena Riquelme

16 NOV 2017 12:53 PM

Before being the protagonist of Narcos or filming with Colin Firth, José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal (42) was a child whom I knew very well because we are from the same family. A man who today looks with nostalgia and some perplexity at his place of origin and his history and who still does not answer what would have happened if he had stayed here.

The first memory I have of Pedro is in the arms of my mother during his baptism, in the garden of my house. She was a weeping bus and had huge black eyes. I was 9 years old. It was cloudy. Years later I learned that the priest was Gerardo Whelan, the legendary rector of Saint George's College. Pedro's parents were not at his baptism: my uncle, José Balmaceda, my mother's only male brother, and his wife Verónica Pascal were asylees at the Venezuelan embassy, which was on Bustos street, near my house. Pepe, as we used to say to my uncle, who years later would become a famous gynecologist, an expert in fertilization, was then a 27-year-old young doctor, in those days wanted by Dina. Some time before they had hidden Andrés Pascal Allende, Mirista and his wife's uncle. One day they came to take him to the José Joaquín Aguirre Hospital and he managed to escape by jumping through the roofs. It was October 1975.

Like most of the Chilean families, there were supporters of both sides in mine: for and against Pinochet. Trying to help Pedro's parents, my dad called a relative who held a high position in the Army. "Tell the children to get asylum, because I cannot guarantee their lives or that nothing happens to Veronica," was his reply. She was 22 years old. Then began the journey of my uncles and with them that of my cousin José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal. Pepe and Verónica had to start living secretly in different houses. Pedro, who was only 6 months old at the time, and his 3-year-old sister Javiera were left in charge of my mother's older sister, "Aunt Juani."

The second memory I have of Pedro is when I accompanied my parents, who carried him and his sister in their arms, to stand on the sidewalk in front of the Venezuelan embassy so that their parents could see them through the window.

My uncles left the Venezuelan embassy for the airport in January 1976, Pedro was 9 months old and obviously does not remember anything. I just remember that they didn't let me go. Pedro could not record the image, which I could not see, of his grandfather Luis Pascal Vigil - a very prominent lawyer - singing the National Anthem on the balcony of Pudahuel. A memory that is not mine but that I adopted, for cute.

As the people of the International Red Cross advised our family on time, Pedro and his sister did not leave the embassy with their parents, but arrived directly at the airport: this allowed their passports not to be stamped with the "L" for " limited to circulate "that stamped on the exiles who left. Therefore, the years that Pedro and Javiera came could come to Chile without problems. And for that reason, the choclón of cousins, we were able to share long summers in Pucón and some winters in Santiago.

The Balmaceda Pascal first arrived in Aarhus, Denmark, in October 1976. A year later they left for San Antonio, Texas, where Pedro's father was able to continue improving himself thanks to a grant from the Rockefeller Foundation. Veronica earned a PhD in Child Psychology.

________________________________________

"But Denmark is invisible to me," Pedro writes me by email. A while ago I proposed to interview him at a distance to travel a little about his history, and here we are, in front of the computer, sharing memories. "It is invisible to me, like everything that happened before. Although once, after telling him about my childhood, a doctor told me that the temporary separation with my mother was trapped in the memory of my body and that I could remember it through the senses".

My cousin, far away

The third memory I have of Pedro is a summer in Pucón. It must have been in 1978. "Pepelo", as we said, was no longer a guagua but a restless, very blond boy, who was so impacted by poverty in Chile that when he went out on the street with his gringo accent, he asked any person: "Are you poor?" He took food out of the pantry and gave it away. With my cousins we rented a warm wooden house, colorful, with the door frames out of square. It was summers with trips to those black sand beaches that burned the feet and picnics in Caburgua with lamb on the stick. They took us to mass and Pedro sang very inspired.

"This is where the memories become more vivid, like dreams," he writes. "I remember so many details: my older cousins, children my age who were like family. The beach seemed endless. I also remember running down the hallways and stairs of Aunt Juani's house looking for Santa Claus at Christmas."

XR: What was it like leaving your parents in the United States?

PP: "I think the trauma was going back to the States, although I obviously wanted to be with my parents. But childhood in Chile, with the Balmaceda and Pascal, was a dream, a world where nothing was missing, pure adventure and love."

Now that he tells me that, I remember that image of Pedro hanging on the neck of our aunt Juani, crying in Pudahuel because she did not want to return. At that time going to the airport was a panorama: we were going en masse to leave him and his sister, who traveled in charge of the stewardesses.

In 1981 I went with my parents and my two sisters to see the Balmaceda Pascal in Texas. I remember an eternal road trip from Miami, I remember Pedro's house, in a middle-class neighborhood, comfortable, beautiful, lovingly arranged by his mother. I remember the tears of my mother and Pedro's mother when we said goodbye to return to Chile. We still didn't know when they could return. Although Pedro never fully returned.

In December 1983, Pepe and Verónica were able to enter Chile. The whole family was packed on the terrace of Pudahuel, waiting for them. I remember the Balmaceda Pascal walking from the stairs of the plane to the International Police. I remember them happy, triumphant. Pedro was 8 years old and chose to stay in my house, in love with my girl sister.

We all went to Quintero, to the house of our grandfather Pepe, a great smoker, tennis player, and fanatic fanatic who took us to the town cinema to see double Tora! Programs, Tora !, Tora! More Bridges on the River Kwai and other old movies. Surely Pedro had to see several. Since he was a boy he said he wanted to be a "director". He liked horror movies and was a big movie consumer, like his dad.

PP: "I remember going to the movies with the cousins and the grandfather to see anything with Clint Eastwood, Sylvester Stallone. They leased me VHS movies to see alone and happy."

XR: You once recited Hamlet on the beach with Grandpa.

PP: "No, it was Death of a Salesman, by Arthur Miller. I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it and lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the United States."

After that summer, Pedro began to come more sporadically. He was already grown up, at school and then at university. They had moved to Newport Beach, California. His father was doing very well. But Pedro, not so much.

PP: "I think that the way the family supported me in Chile was the opposite of what I experienced in Newport Beach. I started well in California but at 13 years old, very involved in the cinema, reading plays, books, TV, TV, TV, obsessed with these things, I had the bad luck to find few like me. It was a world very attached to conservatism and its privileges where not fitting was punished. There was a group of shitty goats who were my friends the first year and became my terrors thereafter. I don't enjoy remembering that time, but there are deep connections from back then. Friends of my parents who are like parents until today."

Pedro's mom soon found a performance arts program at a high school in another district. A more inclusive school compared to Corona del Mar, the neighborhood where they lived in Newport.

PP: "My mom and my driver's license were my salvation. There I was able to unleash my appetite for movies and theater without limits."

As time went by Pedro became a fun, provocative teenager with character. He said he was "lazy", but he went to study Theater at NYU in 1993 and he loved it. I started to see it less. When he came to Chile he went out with his friends, I was already married and having children.

XR: Did you find that our way of life was very boring?

PP: "Bored, no. But overwhelming regarding life's permanent decisions. I didn't have the Catholic structure, and I felt there was no room for a young guy like me. Like suddenly, from one trip of mine to another, you had lives that included marriages and children, and pleasing the visits of the gringo cousin was no longer an option for all of you. I had to duel, because I was jealous of his inattention."

XR: Do you find us very conservative?

PP: "Yes, but it is a major contradiction for me. I come from the perspective that no one can decide how someone else should live their life. And well, in our family there are social rules that are very firm. I think that a person has the right to live his life conservatively or wildly as long as he does not negatively impact anyone or tries to embarrass others by his lifestyle. I don't touch these issues very much with our family for fear of hearing their perspective, but what I do know is that if I ever needed help I could ask any member of our family by the name of Balmaceda, and I would get it."

In 1995, Pedro's parents returned to Chile with their two youngest children, Nicolás and Lucas, who had been born in California. Javiera also came for a couple of years. Pedro stayed in the United States.

PP: "It was a very scary period. I grew up with my family in the United States and from one day to the next there was no home to return to. Suddenly the idea of the safe nest was gone. It was shocking because in previous years I took for granted the privileged life we had in California. I never thought that this could change as suddenly as happened to my parents when they became exiles. Everything felt fragile. Also, I knew that my parents' marriage was wrong and that the tension of those circumstances was hardly going to end. My mother's life felt in danger and the line between needing her, being there for her and finishing my studies and pursuing a career was a horrible conflict. I knew that my mom wanted me to continue doing mine, she never would have wanted me to sacrifice it."

XR: Did you really resent the failure of your parents' marriage?

PP: "For me it was the hardest time. I have not been able, and I do not know if someday I will be able to reconcile completely how my parents separated and the tragedy that came after that separation. The circumstances of my mother's death made it very hard for us to keep her memory of who she was. It hurts so much ... Sometimes I feel distressed and try to face it in the best possible way, because I know that my mother would not like me to do it in any other way."

Pedro lost his mother when he was 24 years old.

PP: "It's hard to say what I remember most about her. You met her, so it is easy for you to understand that she was the love of my life. I think of her every day. Since I don't pray, I can't say that I have a practice to feel her close, but I live for her even though she's gone, and that makes sense to me."

From Alexander to Pedro

XR: Do you believe that pain makes us stronger or does it seem like a horrible cliché?

PP: "I don't think it's a terrible cliche but a profound reality. In some way, losing the most important person in your life, discovering that something like this is possible and that what you fear most in life can happen is an identifiable and permanent moment. There is a before and after after his death. I think, yes, that old age would not have been for my mother, there would have been no footwear with her. Of course, no one wants to grow old, but others can handle it better. I would not have liked to see my mom struggling with it, but at the same time, I wish I had her every day still with me."

It may have been the summer of 2012. Pedro said to our aunt Juani: "I am 37 years old and I still can't get what I want. And it's the only thing I know how to do." It had been a long time since the death of his mother in the summer of 2000 that Pedro had changed his name. From Pedro Balmaceda to Pedro Pascal. He had been searching for years, years of casting where, by being called Pedro Balmaceda in the studios, they hoped to find a Latin or classic Mexican phenotype. He had only made minor appearances in some series.

XR: Although you did not regret it, you did wear Alexander at some point. Why?

PP: "That was a desperate period and directly related to having lost my mother. I was desperate to work, to fill my days with something more to suffer. To eliminate the confusion that casting directors had with this guy named Pedro with European or Caucasian traits, I changed my first name to Alexander and took my mom's last name, Pascal. That only lasted a year, until I was able to find a job and be selected for an Ibsen theatrical classic. But it was too late for people to identify me as "Alex". Also, my mom named me Pedro. So the decision was to call me Pedro Pascal, a name that fits with me more than any other."

Soon after that came Brothers and Sisters, other small roles, and later more important ones in The Good Wife, The Law and Order, The Mentalist, until Game of Thrones, Narcos in 2015 and now, filming Muralla china with Matt Damon and William Dafoe - last year we all went to see his cousins together - and then Kingsman 2 with Colin Firth, Julianne Moore, Jeff Bridges, Halle Berry and Channing Tatum.

XR : Have you ever been excited acting with such powerful actors?

PP: "I have been thrilled with everyone."

With fame have come the new meetings of the cousins with Pedro Pascal. We all want to see him, take pictures of us, we ask him for greetings-chub for friends, we inflate ourselves by saying that he is our cousin. That Peña, the protagonist of Narcos and the sexiest guy in the world, is my cousin-brother. He laughs and humorously calls us "scoundrels" because now we remember him. In fact, that's what our cousin chat on Whastapp is called.

But there is also the modesty to disturb him. Know that you are busy. That while I'm sending you these questions, you're filming in Boston with Denzel Washington. And to feel that there is always a lack of time to speak to him calmly, a space to ask him questions like the ones that occur to me now:

XR: Exile changed your life. Can you imagine growing up in Chile?

PP: "I don't know, because I haven't thought much about it. I have been asked this question all my life and have never been able to come up with an answer. Perhaps my life would have been more complete and solid. What I am used to is that the past disappears as if it had been lived by someone else, in another time."

XR: Do you miss something from when you were Pedro Balmaceda?

PP: "You know? There is very little difference between Pedro Balmaceda and Pedro Pascal. As it is all part of José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal, I feel the same person. But with back problems and more money."

XR: Would you like to start a family?

PP: "Being a dad? I don't know. I have no fucking idea. I love being an uncle. It may just end there. But anything is possible."

XR: Marialy Rivas said something very nice about you on Saturday: that when you play a character, you pretend that this character brought a whole previous story, much bigger than what they are telling. And it's true: you carry a bigger story than you tell it.

PP: "I don't know, cousin. I am very confused trying to organize the past and see what turns out. It helps me understand the pain or be grateful for what I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm a fraud, living between waiting for fame and attention and completely embarrassed by these wishes.

In reference to what Marialy said, I think she means that I put all my confusion, joy and sorrow, ambivalence, hostility, rage, love, lust, greed, compassion, ignorance, knowledge either to indicate a map with the finger on Narcos, throwing an arrow in Game of Thrones, lashing out at Kingsman. Cool! But I think my experience in theater taught me that."

XR: Would you someday like your life to be a script?

PP: "No way." (in english)

XR: Do you still want to be a "director", as you used to say when you were a kid?

PP: "Yes! That will be my way of being a father. Father of a production."

XR: Is dreaming about an Oscar the dream of every actor, even if you don't confess it?

PP: "I confess that possibly… yes."

#pedro pascal #cousin #la tercera #2017 #family #mother #father #asylum #embassy #pedro pascal article #article #javiera balmeceda #peter balmaceda #cousins #pp article

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devinescribe · 3 years

Text

Agape

Last Boss/ Takatora Samura × Reader

Warnings: swearing, past trauma, cheating, murder. Past trauma. I know I said it, but you know

Eros, sexual or erotic love. Can be the love you share with a partner. Lust.

Philia, platonic love. The love you share with friends.

Storge, natural love. The love you share with your family.

Philautia, love of self.

Pragma, long standing love. The love of a married couple.

Agápe, unconditional or Devine love.

Ludus, childish or playful love/flirting.

You laughed, watching the screen, seeing Ludus try to talk some sense into the boy she was helping. "Look at those two getting along," Eros said. "It's been nine years, no? You'd hope they're getting along," you laughed. The screen changed, and you jumped back. "Oh, someone said the word love around divinities," Eros noted. "Ooh, a job for me? It's been so long," you excitedly said, pressing the button. "Well, they're not talking anymore. But, I'll just assume the best and go," you sighed, touching the scene. You felt cold wash over you and shivered. It was so overwhelmingly cold.

"W-what the hell?" You shivered, looking around. There was no one. You sighed, they must have left the room or hidden. "Hello?" You questioned, looking around. The room was a mess, you could barely walk through. "W-what are- who are you?'' A voice questioned. You turned to face them, and saw a man with tattoos on his skin. He was wearing a hoodie without sleeves, most presumably to show off his tattoos. "Silly, you should know. You summoned me!" You laughed, floating over the mess. 'And now she's floating... what is this mess?' He thought to himself, staring up at you. "I didn't summon anything," he stated. You tilted your head to the side. "Oh... It was an accident? Yeah, I get that a lot, but now I'm stuck with you until I help you fall in love, sooooo... let's start with introductions and get that out of the way, yeah?" You suggested, sticking your hand out. He looked at it, sceptical that he would actually touch something. You were either someone that Niragi was using to prank him, or a figment of his imagination. "My name is (Y/N), I'm the cupid of Agape. What's yours?" You introduced. He didn't answer, staring at you. "Ok, well, um... anything you want to talk about, mystery man?" You questioned with a smile, floating closer. He backed up slightly. "Ah, the antisocial type, huh? Alright I like a challenge. May I please know your name?"

You spent hours trying to get him to speak. Finally you had to show him you were real until he answered. He was quite the odd man. He hadn't meant to summon you, really. He was muttering the words to an old rhyme he read once and it just so happened there was divinities on his desk. "The universe never makes mistakes my dear. Even if it was an accident, that," you said after explaining everything. He was not as sceptical anymore, but it still made you laugh. "So you're telling me the only way I can get you to leave is to fall in love with someone or die?" He questioned. You nodded. There was silence once more, and you were getting the feeling that he was not going to talk unless provoked. "Ok, now that you know a bit about me, let me know your name," you said. He looked up at you, studying you.

"You mean to tell me your basically all powerful... but don't know the name of the person you're going to help?"

...

....

"You know what, you're right. I'm going to suggest that to the gods."

It was hours later, and he wouldn't tell you his game. "Please?? Pleaseee?" You begged, shaking his shoulders. "Fine... it's Takatora Samura," he sighed. You jumped up, cheering. "Finally! Thank you!" You shouted, hugging him. You felt him tense up, and let him go. "Not one for physical contact, hm? It's ok," you said, letting him go. You saw him let out a sigh of relief, and laughed a bit. "Is there something humorous about this situation to you?" He asked. You giggled, nodding your head. "Your reactions my dear," you answered. You saw his ears turn red and you smiled. "I'll find out all about you sooner or later, whether you tell me willingly, or I force it out of you," you said, an innocent smile on your face. He didn't think that was an innocent wording to it. It sounded like a threat, and he assumed it was best to just talk to you. You were quite... pretty. Maybe it was the fact you were basically a goddess, but something about you pulled him to you. Not the fact that you two were literally bonded until you helped him fall in love, but something else. He didn't know what it was yet, but he'd figure it out.

"Following you around is quite tiring you know? Always jumping on and off things. It's quite the impressive feat, but still, you must be tired aren't you darling?" You questioned, floating besides him. "So since I asked you to stop calling me the other nickname, you come up with a new one? You're... a frustratingly stubborn woman," he said quietly. He seemed to notice that people couldn't see you, so he found it best to keep quiet when talking to you. "And you're just a frustrating man, so we're even," you said with a smile. "Can you see other cupids? Like when they're down with other people?" He asked, a sudden thought coming to mind. "Hm? We can't see them, but we can most certainly feel their presence. One of us has been with the same one for nine years. He's... well, she keeps him in line that's for sure," you answered. Your dress seemed to float around with you, bouncing and flowing around as if it were alive itself. He didn't know what to think of this whole situation. It was so bizarre. "So... if I had a person who I thought had a cupid helping them, could you find them?" He asked. "I don't know what you're plan is, but it sounds fun, let's go!" You chirped, pulling on his arm.

"Hmm... oh. Oh, yeah he's definitely got a cupid. That's Ludus's energy alright," you said. He let out a small chuckle, and you looked down at him. "What's so funny Mr. Mystery?" You questioned. "If I'm not mistaken... Ludus is childish or playful love, no?" He asked, hiding a smile. You nodded slowly. "So he has a cupid that's the total opposite of him... who repremands him... and makes him do things that follow a normal moral compass? I find that to be hilarious," he said. You laughed, nodding your head. "I guess that is funny when you look at it that way. What else do you have to do?"

It was currently night time, and honestly, you were bored. He just sat in a chair in his room, reading some book he found. "Hey... hey. Hey! Pay attention!" You shouted. He slowly moved his book down, glancing over at you. "Can we talk about something? Anything is better than silence," you said, sitting on his bed. "I guess... um, tell me about your past?" he asked, shutting the book completely. "Oh... sure!"

"I have no doubt you'll do great! I'll see you in a week?" You said, hugging the man in front of you. It was you husband. You had always supported his musical career, insisting that he would make it one day. "Aw, thank you my dear. And of course, in a week or a bit longer. Goodbye," he assured, waving as he walked off. "Goodbye! I love you!"

All was fine, until news came back that he had been see with another woman. You of course, shook it off. Maybe she was just a friend? But of course, they had been caught doing things no friends would.

"I- I just... I need some time,'' you stuttered, pushing him away softly. "You're mine, don't forget that. You don't need time, you just need me," he said forcefully. "No. We aren't doing this. You cheated on me. Please give me the respect I deserve, and give me time to process what happened. In this moment I am not yours. The moment you decided to be with another, was when I stopped being yours," you stated, running off.

After everything you had supported him through, he really threw you to the side for another woman? You had lived in poor conditions, barely managing to pay rent, supporting him, just for him to do this to you? You had never complained, and always told him he'd be great. He was destined for good things. You always knew it. And this was how he repaid the years of support, love, and loyalty? (As Cardi B. Once said... ahem... "Broke boys don't deserve no pussy, I know that's right.")

It was months later when you got a knock at your door. You turned off the tap, placing the dish you were washing down in the sink. You grabbed the towel besides the sink, drying your hands, while walking to the door. They knocked again and you walked faster shouting, "I'm going!"

You got to the door, unlocking it, and opening it. In front of you was a woman who looked the opposite of you. Every aspect if her was different from you. "Oh... um, hello! Is there anything I can help you with?" You asked. She nodded, "I want you gone."

You stared back in shock, thinking you'd misheard her. "Excuse me?" You questioned. She pushed you back, making you hit your head on the wall. You yelped in pain, falling to the floor. "What the hell?!" You shouted, standing up. "He's so obsessed with you, he misses you, we'll see who he misses when I get rid of you!" She screamed, grabbing a knife from the kitchen. You quickly grabbed the doorknob, getting ready to leave. "No you don't you bitch!" She yelled, running at you with the knife. You opened the door, going to run, before she grabbed the edge of your nightgown, pulling you back. You landed back in your home, and she closed the door, locking it. And thats when you knew you wouldn't survive, as she had blocked every exit.

"I think that's about it. She stabbed me to death, I became a cupid. Oh, and I found out that she was the girl he cheated on me with and blah blah blah. Boring talking about me. What about you?" You finished, waving your hands around. "You are- what? I'm so... he... then she.. You got murdered ?" He stuttered. You nodded, "Yeah,why?" "You're so... so nonchalant about it!" He exclaimed, standing up. "Woah there darling, that's a lot of emotion coming from you right now. You sure you're feeling ok?" You asked, walking towards him. "You're like serious? Like actually? That happened?" He questioned. You were so confused. In the single day you had known him, this was all it took to get a reaction?

"Yeah? Why would I lie about that?" You answered. He sighed, sitting down on his bed "Well.. he wasn't a good person. How do you help others fall in love when the love you experienced wasn't devine or unconditional?" he asked. You looked down, an floated over to him. "Um... I-... I don't know... it's just what I do. It makes people happy. I like seeing others happy," you murmured, playing with your hands. "But... doesn't it get tiring of constantly seeing others get what you never had? Don't you get angry or sad?" He asked, turning to face you. "What? I've never.... I-... y-you're... you're right..." you whispered, tears filling your eyes. His eyes widened, seeing your tears. "I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm-"

"It's o-ok, I know you didn't mean to. Y- you've actually helped me..."

Helped you? How had he helped you? By going off on an observation based off of what you had told him? It was strange to him that you hadn't thought about it before.

"But at least you're able to look for your 'one true love' or whatever bullshit people make up."

Silence met his ears, something that he usually would be happy about, but this time, not so much.

"Right?"

"You get to fall in love still, right?"

"..."

"...."

"...no..."

He stared at you like you had just told him the world was going to end in the next five seconds. How could the gods be so cruel as to make you suffer through your life, and now your after life? He couldn't believe it. There was no rest for your soul.

"We die if we do... and a devine death means no coming back. No after life can or will take you. Your soul, essance, and being dissappears," you explained. "Has anyone ever tried it?" He questioned, looking away. You shook your head, "No... it's just something Zues told us all. Oh, and Ares. And Dionysus."

"Those boys always messing with you ladies. Oh it infuriates me. Hello my dear Y/N!"

You jumped, grabbing onto Last Boss. "Fear not, it's only me," she said. You looked up, and smiled. "Lady Freyja! It's so wonderful to see you!" You laughed. "Now, what the boys told you are lies. You are most certainly allowed to fall in love. What ridiculous nonsense. I can't believe they'd play a prank so cruel on all of you," she ranted. "I- we are?" You questioned. She nodded. You smiled, and realized how stupid you were. "Thank you, Lady Freyja," you said, bowing to show your gratitude. She laughed, shaking her head. "There's no need for that. Do be careful however. My magic was almost not strong enough to reach you. Wherever this is... it's dangerous. Please be aware."

Weeks passed, and Last Boss had never shown interest in anyone. "Taka, come on, there's got to be someone you like. Anyone. Really. Guys, girls, in betweens. Anything darling," you complained as he sat reading a book. "You want to know what? I have taken interest in someone," he responded. You jumped up in excitement. "Really?! Who?" You exclaimed, jumping up and down.

"You."

Again, he was met with silence. Something, he realized, he only hated when it was coming from you. "Me? As in... Y/N, cupid of Agape, me?" You questioned. He nodded. Your smile grew wider, and he was becoming worried at your silence.

"It's a good thing I've take interest in you too Samura..."

For the first time in a while, he smiled. A genuine smile. You floated over to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you accidentally summoned me."

Yay! I finished! So, now vote between the ones that are left which is:

Karube - Storge (the love you share for family)

Chota - Philia (the love you share between friends)

Arisu - Eros (sexual love, lust.)

Hatter - Philautia (love of self in a positive or negative way)

#alice in borderland #×reader #last boss #last boss × reader #fluff #this took a while to write #i need to write more for him hes such an interesting character #i would love to have long conversations with him just because it wouldn't get boring #hed be pretty fun ngl

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ferbmanofactionfletcher · 3 years

Text

Interview Process || The Flynn-Fletcher’s

Candace, Phineas, and Ferb sit down to interview Andrea on why she should get the chance to fill the roll she came to town for.

[TW: bad parenting, past trauma related to bad parenting]

@oh-phineas @i-want-candy

FERB

A time and place had been agreed upon for the interview of Andrea Martin. (Their house, afternoon.)

Ferb had no idea how to go about it and proceeded to spend the time leading up to it researching the interview process from the interviewer’s perspective. There were so many techniques, ranging from that of an employer looking to learn about a person that best suited a job to that of a screenwriter looking for research on a subject. He didn’t know which one to employ here since— well he didn’t know what exactly they were interviewing her for. What position was she wanting to take up?

A mother? She already had kids that she had a direct relationship to. And was he supposed to meet them? His half siblings? Or her husband? His step-father? What about—?

And he mostly got overwhelmed when he thought about it as one question would branch off into an infinite tree diagram. Though to anyone looking at him, he still looked like Ferb always did. Neutral and steady.

There were questions he had prepared but overall, didn’t know what to expect. But, that was the catch when it came to all people— he could never anticipate the outcome.

He sat at the kitchen table with Phineas and Candace, opposite to Andrea, who looked to be happily sipping tea. His eyes shifted to the Flynn’s, unsure if he was supposed to say something first since— well she was only here because of him. But they were so much better at speaking.

Andrea cleared her throat, leaning forward against the table top. “So! Where should we start?”

PHINEAS

Phineas didn’t really do as much research. His idea of an “interview” was mostly based on podcasts about tech startups and his own extremely limited experience. But he wanted to give Andrea hard questions (and yes, this was partially a result of his own humiliation at his Chapter Three interview). Part of it was a power trip, sure, but the other part was his genuine desire to protect Ferb. If this lady really cared about him, she would have to fight to be a part of his life.

“I’ll start us off,” Phineas announced, glancing at Ferb and at Candace. He signed as he spoke and translated for Andrea-- he didn’t want Ferb to miss any of this. It was his decision, at the end of the day. Phineas fixed Andrea with an extremely serious expression. “How many pennies, stacked one on top of the other, would equal the height of the Empire State Building?”

CANDACE:

Candace didn’t see the point of this. In fact, she thought it was incredibly stupid. There was nothing that Andrea could say that would convince Candace that she was truly back. Parents that left always left. They weren’t parents. They were sperm and egg donors. Nothing more. If only she could make Ferb see that.

Even if he did, she doubted that he would do the right thing and push Andrea away. He was too nice for that, too much of a pushover.

Well, if Candace was forced to be his big sister, this was how she would do it. By protecting him from a woman he didn’t even remember. So, even though she thought this whole thing was stupid and pointless, she was going to be here. For every step of it. And she’d expose Andrea for being just as flighty as she was before. People like her didn’t change. She’d make sure that Ferb understood that when all this was said and done.

She sat slightly slumped in her chair, arms crossed, glaring at Andrea. Phineas’ question wasn’t going to get them anywhere but at least it’d tell her if Andrea was willing to play along. Maybe Phineas would just wear her down by being obnoxious. That would be ideal, since at the very least, Candace knew Ferb would stick up for Phineas.

Candace didn’t say anything. She just watched.

FERB

Ferb didn’t really know where Phineas was going with that one. It seemed a little out of left field if they were supposed to be getting to know who she was. But he didn’t protest or shoot him a funny look, he trusted Phineas to know what he was doing— Ferb just blinked and turned to see what Ms. Martin would have to say while he worked it out for himself in his head.

(The height of the Empire State building [1,454ft, which converted to 443,179.2 mm] divided by the thickness of an average American penny [1.52mm] = 291,565.2632 or, rounding up since you couldn’t very well slice the penny, 291,566 pennies.)

At first Andrea could only stare, brow furrowed, at the question. She had prepared for numerous things to be asked of her. About her life, about why she had left, about why she hadn’t come back, about her other children, about her and Lawrence’s past relationship— but she had never expected she would have to do maths.

“The Empire State Building.” She smiled as she repeated him. It had still been such a surprise that Lawrence of all people had found someone to marry in America. Then she hummed, lips pressed together trying to think how she was even supposed to begin.

After a moment she simply shrugged, figuring it wasn’t worth answering something so silly. Surely it was some sort of joke Phineas wanted in order to break the ice? Andrea laughed a little before providing her answer. “I’m afraid I’ve no idea. I don’t even know how tall the Empire State Building is. I’m sorry.” She glanced between the three of them. “How many is it then?”

PHINEAS

Phineas smiled triumphantly, and scribbled down a few notes that didn’t actually mean anything but just to show Andrea he was taking notes. That he had opinions on that answer. He was going to turn it over to Candace for the next question, but Phineas couldn’t help it. He had to interject with his explanation.

“So, that question doesn’t actually have a correct answer-- well, it would, maybe, if I were interviewing you for an engineering job, but even then, there would probably be more efficient ways to test your math skills than a word problem about pennies and the Empire State Building. That was actually a test to see what kind of problem-solver you are. Whether you would even make an attempt, you know? And if you did, would you go at it from a mathematical perspective, or a more practical perspective? Or maybe you would have a question about the problem, like do the laws of physics apply here, and if not, could I stack the pennies length-wise instead of width-wise?” Phineas explained, a superior smile on his face as he signed the words. “So if you want to make another try, you can, but I think I got what I needed from that question.”

He glanced at Candace. “Did you want to go next?”

CANDACE: Not that Candace would admit it out loud, but she was actually kind of impressed with Phineas’ logic about the question. She wondered what weirdo interview site he’d read that on. Probably the hiring for Google or something. It sounded like a question they would ask you if you wanted to work at Google.

And she was unimpressed with Andrea’s answer.

At least come up with something, yeah? Ask a question? Don’t just give up. It showed a weak sort of character, if you asked Candace. The kind of character that would run out on her son at first opportunity. And would do it again without a second thought.

When Phineas passed the baton to her, Candace shrugged a little. “Sure, I guess.”

Candace didn’t know what she wanted to ask. She hadn’t come into this wanting to ask anything. Only looking for the satisfaction of Andrea failing. But, now that the opportunity presented itself: yeah, Candace had a question.

“Why now? Why are you back now? You never said. And I don’t want some bullshit answer. There has got to be a real reason.”

FERB

In all his research, Ferb hadn’t come across Phineas’ question, which made him wonder if his research had been thorough enough. Then again, that was why Candace and Phineas were here. To fill in the gaps that Ferb couldn’t.

It also made him uncomfortable once he realized what Ms. Martin’s answer reflected about herself. He couldn’t even muster up the courage to glance her way, knowing the second hand embarrassment would eat him alive if he did. This only grew as he watched Candace’s words popped up along his phone screen.

Andrea let out a little oh, falling back into her seat at the explanation. She folded her hands, one on top of the other, her confidence level having decreased significantly— and after only the first question.

As Phineas asked his sister if she wished to contribute Andrea picked her head back up, pressing a smile back to her features. Ah, now this she had been prepared for. Even if the way it was said was rather vulgar. That was fine. Even needed.

“I know it seems a little out of the blue. Believe me, it was for me, too. But— like I had said, I just couldn’t stay away any longer. There was no more reasons I could come up with or excuses that I could push in front of me to blame. I was watching my other children and I— I don’t know but I finally came to my senses. I realized Ferb was going to be a young man soon enough and I knew I didn’t want to miss any more of his life than I already had.” She looked over to Ferb now but when his head remained down, eyes focused on his phone’s screen Andrea returned her attention back to Candace. “I don’t know quite what you mean by the real reason. If it’s finances you think I’m after, I’d obviously be in the wrong place. The house was never in my name, there’s no secret will or treasure said to be buried in the floorboards that’s somehow come to light or whatever else. The only thing here is my son. That’s it, plain and simple.”

PHINEAS

Phineas liked to pride himself on being scientific and objective with these kinds of things. Logical. Sure, he was an emotional person and emotions often got in the way of good choices, but not with science. And that was what this kind of was, right? A science experiment?

Hypothesis: Andrea couldn’t possibly deserve Ferb.

Conclusion: ...Unclear.

It was getting harder for Phineas to separate his own baggage from this. Because, really, how many times had he imagined this exact scenario for himself? Fred showing up on the Flynns’ doorstep in Danville, begging for forgiveness, saying that he had made a mistake and that he didn’t want to miss another moment of his kids’ lives. Not so much recently, because Phineas had a new life and a new family and he barely thought about Fred anymore. But when he was in middle school? That had been a different time.

“What are you going to do to make it up?” Phineas interjected, his tone different now. Less smarmy, a little more genuine. A hint of a challenge in his tone, but a little bit of fear as well. Hopefully Candace wouldn’t catch on to what was going on here. “If you’re gonna walk out on your kid with no explanation, the least you can do is prove you’re sorry.”

FERB

“I’m not sure that there is any one thing I can do to make it up,” Andrea admitted with a small shrug. (Especially when the one she was even here for wouldn’t spare her a glance!) “Nor do I have any set plan in mind. That’s not really how you gain someone’s trust, is it? You can’t manufacture that. All I can do is make good on my word— which is that I’m here now and I will be for as long as I am welcomed. And even if it takes til the end of my life to repair the damage I have done and to form any sort of relationship with my son, then I’ll do it.”

This all seemed rather dramatic to Ferb.

Phineas’ and Candace’s body language read defensive while Ms. Martin was still one giant mystery, but she did seem tense. Immediately he wished he could call the whole thing off. Maybe he could fake an illness or something, say he got a text about some emergency— of course that wouldn’t work considering the only people who would contact him about that were all somewhere in the house.

He wasn’t so selfish to think that all of this was about him. The Flynn’s had lost a parent, one they had actually known personally, and he could guess this was poking at old, but still painful, wounds. But he was so selfish to think that none of this would be happening if it weren’t for him, and it was rather pointless to do so.

CANDACE:

No, it wasn’t about Ferb.

Not to Candace. She wasn’t mature enough to separate her own wound from Ferb’s. She projected her own feelings onto him, which was easy to do. He was quiet and reserved. She couldn’t read him, but she didn’t need to. She assumed she knew exactly how he was feeling, because it was how she felt:

Confused. Angry. Hurt. Her whole heart felt like a bruise. A lot of the time, it was easy to ignore Fred’s absence. It had been years and Candace didn’t need him anyway. She did just fine on her own. But, now that Andrea was here with her watery eyes and half-baked promises, Candace’s missing for her father had opened up like a black hole in her chest, sucking everything else into it.

It made her feel more protective of Ferb than any previous time. He was so soft. Such a pushover. He’d let Andrea back into his life even though she didn’t earn it and then get hurt when she inevitably left again. Candace felt like she had to protect him from this, the way she hadn’t been able to protect Phineas from the heartbreak of their father walking away.

“And what if he decides he doesn’t want a relationship? And that the damage you caused is irreversible?”

PHINEAS

Phineas glanced at Candace sharply. That was… an intense thing to say. And even if Phineas had come into this interview determined to drive Andrea away, he was starting to wonder if maybe he had judged her too harshly.

Because the truth was, Andrea was right. There wasn’t any one thing you could do to make something like this better. Phineas had never wanted Fred to come back with presents or stories or excuses. He just wanted a dad. Period. It didn’t matter, now, though, because he had Lawrence who was way better and would never disappear.

Sometimes he did wonder, though, what he would do. He and Ferb didn’t really talk about this stuff much.

“I mean, irreversible’s a strong word. Ferb isn’t damaged,” Phineas said quickly. “He’s, like, the most mature person I know. But I get what Candace is saying. It’s up to Ferb. I trust him.” He glanced at Ferb encouragingly. “Anything you wanna say, Ferb?”

FERB

Both Candace and Phineas were wrong.

Ferb was damaged— but it had not been because his mother had left. It was of his own doing. This was why he felt no anger toward the woman sitting on the other side of the table. Of course, it had hurt to have learned why she did not want him. It always hurt. It had hurt every time he had tried to communicate with someone at school or at the park or— anywhere, really, and they would ignore him. When his teachers would talk to Ms. Thompson instead of him despite it being his words she was translating. When his father would have to take over every conversation on his behalf at restaurants, stores, and just about everywhere else. It was why he avoided it now. The world. He had learned to know better than to inconvenience it with himself.

He watched Phineas’ question addressing him stare back at him from his phone and after a moment he lifted his head. It took him another to finally turn to find Ms. Martin’s eyes.

“I don’t want to deny you the opportunity you’re asking for but— you have other children. I fail to see what I could give you that they can’t.”

Andrea’s discomfort grew at the sound of her son’s voice. It was the first time hearing it. Even as a baby he had been rather quiet. She hadn’t expected it. Which was silly, considering, but still. It was off. Different. Made his lack of hearing all the more present to her. She tried not to let that show.

“Oh, darling, it isn’t about what you can give me! I’m supposed to be giving to you. And even if it were the other way around, you’re doing your part by just being you.”

There was a pause as Ferb had to read this over. She shifted in her seat. (Again, it grew.) “You don’t know me, though.”

“Right— that’s what I’m here to do!”

Pause. (Growing, growing, growing.)

“It won’t be worth it.”

Andrea’s smile fell. She blinked, brow furrowing as her eyes went to the other two sitting in front of her to make sure she had heard that correctly. “I’m— I’m sorry?”

“Objectively speaking, it won’t be worth it. Getting to know me. You live in another city where you live with your family and go to work. If you wished to see me you would need to travel which would cost you money and time you would otherwise be able to save. People would expect you to learn sign, which also takes up more time from your life. If you only wished to communicate through technology it would be a written relationship since you can’t call me, which would only take up storage space and, again, time. Either way you would have to contact my father, which he does not seem pleased with. People usually do not respond well to not being liked so your interactions will tax the both of you. And— I’m not worth all of that. You gain nothing from knowing me besides extra hardships which will only result in regret or resentment. Both of which are not healthy.”

CANDACE: Candace rolled her eyes at Phineas. She hadn’t meant that Ferb was like...broken or something, just emotionally damaged. Because having a shitty parent did that to you. Obviously. It broke your heart and your trust and made you feel like shit. It was damaging. End of story.

Listen to Ferb now! Clearly, he felt the same way.

It was hard to listen to because Candace had shit opinions of herself, but she had some redeeming qualities. And she would never admit to feeling them the way that Ferb did now. It was uncomfortable to say the least. It made Candace want to squirm.

So, she did what she usually did when she was uncomfortable: she turned it into something else. Anger. Anger at Andrea and any parent that thought just leaving a child was okay.

“See?” she said furiously. “That’s because of you. He thinks that way, because of you. He thinks he isn’t worth it because you left him. That’s fucked up and it isn’t something that is easily forgiven. You can sit here with smiles all you want, but what you did was horrible.”

She looked at Ferb then and she’d been signing this whole time...well, doing her best anyway. She still wasn’t totally good at it and she was too pissed. But, what she said now, she said very carefully and very deliberately.

“No one should make you feel like a transaction,” she told him, even if she had to spell out ‘transaction’ because she didn’t know the sign for it. “And it’s okay if you’re angry or upset. Just because she’s here, doesn’t mean you have to be polite.”

God, she wished Ferb had more of a backbone and would just tear into this bitch.

PHINEAS

Phineas, in theory, agreed with pretty much everything Candace was saying. Relationships didn’t work like that, the way Ferb was describing it: they were about love and reciprocity, and genuine care for other people. That was the way Phineas saw it, anyway. Sure, it was nice that Ferb could help Phineas when the projects got too technical and complicated for Phineas to do on his own, but Phineas that wasn’t why Phineas cared about him. It was because they were brothers now, and that was what brothers did. That simple.

But Candace’s tone annoyed him. Why did she know better than Ferb? She always acted like she was so much older and wiser, meanwhile, she was barely a year older than Phineas. She was right, but did she have to be so bossy about it? And even if what she did was kind of fucked-up, if Ferb did eventually want to give Andrea a second chance, what made it Candace’s business?

Phineas didn’t realize it, but he was maybe projecting a little too.

He had a lot of things to say, but it wouldn’t be professional to say them out loud, not in front of Andrea. So Phineas did the thing that was probably ruder— he took out his phone and texted the group chat with Candace and Ferb.

@Ferb that’s bullshit and u know it anyone would be lucky to get the opportunity to be in ur family and like obviously ur worth it

@Candace that being said can you chill with the psychoanalysis me and ferb r capable of making our own decisions

Satisfied, Phineas set his phone down and signed to Candace and Ferb, Check your phone, before turning his attention back to Andrea. “I think what we’re actually trying to ask is what you can bring to Ferb’s life, not the other way around. Let’s focus on that. And based on that, Ferb can make his own decision about whether it’s worth it to him.” Phineas shot Candace a look.

FERB

If Andrea hadn’t already folded under listening to Ferb talk, then she certainly would have upon Candace’s addition. She found she didn’t know what to say to any of that— and she thought she had prepared for the worst.

Ferb pondered over Candace’s words and concluded that she wasn’t really talking about him. He didn’t think that way because of Ms. Martin, he had always thought that way. His brain had made it easier with its ability to recall everything it had ever come into contact with. He also hadn’t said that he was worthless, just that he wasn’t worth spending time with. That was a fact, proven by many, many, many failed attempts to prove the opposite.

And he was upset that Ms. Martin was here, but he had taken to not showing his emotions out of self preservation. It wasn’t out of politeness, though, he did have those hardwired into him, too.

His eyes flickered down to his phone as Phineas’ texts came through. Phineas was obviously biased, but Ferb appreciated the kindness nonetheless.

This whole thing wasn’t out of a want for a mother or because he sought to gain anything from this— it just seemed like the fair thing to do. Ms. Martin had asked for a chance. Ferb did not want to deny her that, even if she had wronged him. It was the right thing to do.

Andrea cleared her throat after Phineas addressed her, nodding. “Of course! Yes, you’re right. I completely agree. I don’t mind traveling at all and I’m certain Lawrence and I can be civil to one another, so, please, you’ve nothing to worry about as far as logistics go.”

Ferb blinked and she was beginning to think that was a good thing rather than him responding. So far, he only replied with bad news.

“As for what I can offer, it’s only what anyone else could— myself. And while I know my past record doesn’t reflect that being a very good thing, but I want to be here. I want to know him— you. Ferb. To whatever effect that may be! And not because I feel like it’s my obligation to do so.” She smiled, trying to get away from all the discomfort of the past few minutes. “We can start with interests! What do you like?”

Again, Ferb blinked, then shrugged, unsure of how to answer that. It was too broad of a question. What did she mean, what did he like? As in food? Colours? Coding method? Time of day?

“Right.” She glanced to the Flynn’s. “You two know him better than I do. Is he in anything? Sports? Clubs?”

CANDACE:

Candace ignored her phone because she didn’t care what Phineas had to say. She was right. Everyone here knew it. Andrea didn’t deserve to come back into Ferb’s life. Admittedly, she didn’t know what would qualify as enough penitence to come back into Ferb’s life. She hadn’t ever thought about it. When Fred had left, that had been it. Candace had spent months, crying and waiting for him to come home. Calling his cell phone only to receive a dial tone.

She had held out hope until her birthday, but when he didn’t show up. Or call. Or even send a card, Candace knew that he was gone and she’d cut him out of her heart then. Of course, it was messier than she liked to think when she look back now, but what was done was done. Every missed birthday, graduation, milestone had only hardened her heart against him. Fred was a sperm donor. Not a dad. If he showed back up she’d—

See, she didn’t know, because she never thought about it.

Whatever Andrea was doing wasn’t it, though.

“This is stupid,” Candace declared, pushing back from her chair. “You aren’t even talking to him, himself!” Her hands flew erratically as she tried to sign but was too pissed off to do so very well.

“Whatever. I’m not dealing with this. If you want to “get to know” Ferb, fine, whatever. But count me out.” And with that, she stormed out of the kitchen, Agent P scrambling at her feet playfully.

PHINEAS

Phineas was annoyed. At everyone. Candace was being unreasonable, Andrea was being awkward, and Ferb was… well, Phineas figured he probably shouldn’t get to decide how Ferb should feel about his estranged mom showing up, but he wished Ferb would say something. Even if Phineas thought Candace needed to calm down, he did agree that it rubbed him the wrong way that Andrea was talking about Ferb instead of to him.

He watched Candace storm off and raised his eyebrows, shrugging apologetically.

“Sorry about her,” Phineas said. He glanced at Ferb, trying to see where he was coming from. “But she does have a point. You can’t just talk about people right in front of them. Anyway, we’ll be asking the questions.”

He smiled and folded his hands, satisfied with his own assertive attitude. “Describe what you would do if Ferb got detention.” Ohhh yeah. This was a trick question. Ferb never got detention.

FERB

Goodness, Andrea thought, but forgave the girl as soon as she left. It wasn’t her fault. That came from upbringing, clearly. And Candace hadn’t really been the person Andrea had been here for anyway.

“Oh, that’s alright. She’s fine, I understand.” She nodded to Phineas, folding her hands back over one another on top of the table.

Ferb, on the other hand, felt all the more guilty. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have just sat there. He shouldn’t have invited her back. He shouldn’t have come down stairs at all the day she showed up. He shouldn’t have—. Well. That list could consist of an infinite amount of answers, or just one that would make everything else moot.

He didn’t look back at Phineas this time, too ashamed now to do anything but keep his eyes on his phone because surely Phineas would be angry with him, too. Yet he kept his anxieties from manifesting and despite the dread sitting in his stomach like a pit, he remained still and seated, even if he wanted to leave the table, too, to go find a hiding place that would last him for all eternity.

Andrea didn’t really have to think that hard about this question since she did have experience with figuring out punishments for her own children when getting phone calls from their schools! What she hesitated on was the fact that it was a child who was asking the question. Surely he would deduct points if she answered like a parent should. Or maybe he was trying to see if she would sugar coat it for the sake of trying to appeal to them?

Oh, she was just overthinking it. This was a child! “Well, depending on what he was in detention for, I would vary the consequences. He would have to apologize to whoever, if anyone, he had hurt, and then probably be grounded for some time, again, depending.”

PHINEAS

Phineas smirked. “Trick question. Ferb doesn’t get detention. The one time he did was because he covered my ass. So… nice try, but incorrect,” he said, a tone of superiority in his voice as he signed. He winked at Ferb.

Candace was gone and as much as Phineas wanted to milk this opportunity to be in charge, he figured there wasn’t much point in continuing to grill Andrea. Phineas didn’t hate her, after all. He was a little suspicious, but for the most part, she just seemed like a well-intentioned person who didn’t realize she was kind of in over her head. That was Phineas’s assessment anyway.

“Listen, I wouldn’t take Candace personally. She’s just… like that. I do agree that this is kind of out of nowhere, and I think you have a lot of making up for lost time to do, but the end of the day, it’s Ferb’s decision, not ours. Excuse us for a moment.”

He turned to Ferb and signed, Do you want to make a decision now, or sleep on it?

FERB

Andrea sat there a little shocked. He didn’t get detention? She blinked, jaw slack, as Phineas informed her. It wasn’t as if she had been expecting Ferb to be a troublemaker or anything, but never? On his own accord, anyway? Goodness. Even her other children had gotten punishments at school. A call home here or there for something. It was only natural.

She only gave a weak nod and smile to match as Phineas tried to apologize for his sister. Again, Andrea really paid no mind to Candace. She wasn’t the one she was here for and nor did she seem particularly close to Ferb in the way the boy sitting next to him was. Andrea sat back, left to twiddle her thumbs as the two of them began to speak in a language she couldn’t even begin to make out. (Which was more from a lack of not trying than anything else.)

Ferb thought over this question and could see no reason to prolong the inevitable. Ms. Martin had given her answers and she had still seemed like she wanted to know Ferb. For whatever reason. In his mind, it was only fair to give her a shot. She had apologized and said she would do more to make amends. There was really nothing else he could think to ask for.

Also, this was perhaps a chance for him to make up for his own failings. All those years he had spent trying to actively gain people’s friendship only to be ignored. Now, he was met with someone who had ignored him for years who was wanting to do the opposite. That had never happened before.

Now, he signed, both hands at his ribcage, palms to the ceiling, bobbing up and down twice. He then turned to Ms. Martin and spoke aloud. “Okay. If this is what you want.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “It is! Of course. Erm— oh here.” Andrea reached across the table to take Ferb’s phone, which caused a spike in his nerves since he 1. No longer knew what she was saying and 2. Well. She had his phone. After a few painful seconds of her tapping at it she pushed it back across to him. “I put my number in so you can call or— contact me whenever!”

Ferb, having not gotten any of that, just nodded. Andrea smiled, eyes moving to Phineas. “And thank you so much! This was delightful, apart from— well. Anyway, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon!”

#interview process #oh phineas #i want candy #fern

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thenexusofsouls · 3 years

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Flock- what is your muse's family like? How do they get along with them? (Tony)

Eagle- is your muse courageous or cowardly? What might cause them to act in the opposite manner, if anything? (Ethan)

Sparrow- what artistic or creative hobbies does your muse have? What is their favorite or most treasured creation? (Natasha)

Cardinal- how does your muse recover from strong emotions? How do they recouperate? (Michael)

{i am the caretaker of souls} This got long, haha, so I’ll put it under a cut.

Flock- what is your muse's family like? How do they get along with them? (Tony)

So... Tony’s relationships with various members of his family are complicated and not always positive, but the following five people mean the most to him, and with each of them, he’s tried to do the right thing at least at some point in his life. With some it worked better than others, for varying reasons, but I’ll focus on these and describe his relationship with them a little:

Father, Howard Stark: Oh boy. Where do I begin. There was so much wrong with Tony’s relationship with his dad. Both of them were incredibly intelligent and very arrogant, and that caused a huge ego clash between them, but for different reasons. Howard never felt that Tony lived up to his expectations as a son, although half the time he didn’t really give him half a chance or bother to notice when Tony did do something productive, constructive, good, noteworthy, etc. Tony wanted his father’s love, attention, and approval, but often went about it the wrong away, trying to stand out with bad behavior rather than positive achievements. Whenever they met in the middle and could have had a chance at bonding, the two of them were so defensive or closed off that they just couldn’t open up to each other. This never really got resolved, and then Howard was killed, so Tony was left with not only a huge hole in his heart from the love he felt he never really got from Howard, but also an emotional wound that would never have any closure.

Mother, Maria Stark: Tony loved his mother to bits, although when he was younger he often pretended like she worried to much and sometimes smothered him. From Maria, Tony got the love he felt he never got from his dad, but it was almost too easy. She just gave it unconditionally, and in some ways that offset what he wasn’t getting from his dad so much more because of the dramatic contrast in how his parents treated him. She was the softer, forgiving, understanding, encouraging parents in contrast to Howard’s aloof, distant, businesslike fathering. She was the one person in his life that he felt safe going to in any kind of vulnerable way, and losing her left Tony feeling very alone and isolated in a way he couldn’t express to other people... so he bottled it all up.

Girlfriend/Wife, Pepper Potts: Ugh. This relationship, in my opinion, was terrible and toxic. He was distant, defensive, and he abused alcohol to an extreme. Also he put her in danger either by accident or inadvertently with things he said or did. His communication was never the greatest and his coping mechanisms were unhealthy at best. She shamed Tony for his trauma responses as if they were personality flaws he should be ashamed of (scattered memory, nightmares, panic attacks, etc.), used walking out on him as a threat and emotional weapon against him whenever she just didn’t feel like dealing with him, and often was not there for him when he needed her. But... Tony genuinely loved her and something must have been good enough for both of them for them to want to make it work, and somehow, eventually, it did. I think once Tony knew he wasn’t going to lose her (the threat of her always just wanting to leave really kept him on edge in a way that was damaging to his mental health), he calmed down and some of his behaviors and coping mechanisms actually got better, which then in turn made Pepper want to stay with him and work it out, so those two things fed off each other in a positive way. Her actually marrying him brought about an emotional stability Tony never had before, both within himself and in a relationship. He settled down considerably after that and was much more stable mentally once he had her full support. He loves her with all his heart and there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for her.

Older Daughter, Carter Stark: This is going to sound terrible, haha, so I’ll preface it by saying that Tony loves Carter immensely. She’s his daughter and all he wants to do is keep her safe and make sure she has the best life she can. But... in many ways, she’s also a symbol of some of the worst times in his life, some of the worst things about himself, and some of the worst things he’s ever done. He slept around, he let people down, he got people killed, he wasn’t there for the ones he loved, etc. She reminds him of a lot of things about himself that he wishes weren’t true or didn’t happen. Her existence has also made him wonder on many occasions whether he might have other children whose mothers never knew he was the father or chose not to even inform him. He loves her, as I said, but there’s also just this aching pain and guilt he feels with her that he didn’t do enough for her, didn’t protect her well, or even that her life might have been better had she not known him. Some of that is his own anxiety telling him things that aren’t true, but some of it is due to events that happened that he knows have affected Carter’s mental health that Tony feels responsible for, either through his own actions or by the company he kept at the time. So Carter reminds Tony of the worst, lowest, and most broken aspects of himself, and I think that will always cause him to believe that he was a terrible father to her. He’s spent many hours wishing that he had done more for her in some way and had been able to be a better father than Howard was to him.

Younger Daughter, Morgan Stark: If Carter is a symbol of how bad a father he could be and some of Tony’s worst qualities, the Morgan is a symbol of the best he could be. Morgan in many ways is Tony’s redemption. Other people outside looking in might say his actions during Endgame were redeeming, or that he had moments before that throughout the franchise that helped redeem parts of him along the way, but in Tony’s mind, Morgan is his redemption. She’s what happens when he does things right. Carter helped contribute to this because he didn’t want to make the same mistakes he made with her, and he sought to correct as many as he could. His own father also contributed because Tony had a big example of the kind of father he never wanted to be, and he tried to avoid that at all costs. Stepping back from the Avengers and focusing on his marriage and being a father to his daughters was far better for his mental health, even with the guilt and sadness of everyone’s failure in Infinity War. So the years during which he raised Morgan were Tony’s most stable and healthy as far as his own mental state. If he was ever concerned about the legacy he would leave - and he was - he knew he was leaving something pure and positive behind after his death, whenever it might be, with Morgan.

Eagle- is your muse courageous or cowardly? What might cause them to act in the opposite manner, if anything? (Ethan)

Ethan is actually pretty damn brave, considering he’s lived a number of years in fear. Before he entered into this nomadic lifestyle in an attempt to keep other people at a distance, he was protective of his friends and girlfriends. As he and his more recent girlfriend Kelly dealt with the creature infesting their house, there were many times when he was woken up in the middle of the night by her or suddenly startled by her screaming and had to get up and see what the problem was. He would always go on the offensive, investigating with something held as a weapon, letting Kelly hide behind him. He was scared, but he wasn’t about to let her get hurt. The problem was, there wasn’t really anything he could do about it in the end.

When Ethan is by himself, it’s a different story. He’s willing to be that shield or put himself in danger to protect someone he cares about, but if it’s just him alone, he’s not stupid. He’s not looking to throw his life away for nothing. So when he’s alone, he’s a lot more attention to his self-preservation instincts.

Sparrow- what artistic or creative hobbies does your muse have? What is their favorite or most treasured creation? (Natasha)

Dancing. Specifically ballet dancing. Allow me to explain. You might think that she’d never want to touch pointe shoes again with how ballet was used against her in the Red Room. It was used as a conditioning tool, both for its strenuous and physical demands and difficult skillset necessary to master it, but also for other typical brainwashing techniques it provides, such as the use of repetition, association through music, and creating a sense of isolation through competition with others around you. However, something weird happened after Natasha defected to SHIELD. She started to dance for herself. She only did it when alone, sometimes with music but often times without any. Somehow, she took this thing that had been used against her and made it her own. It became a source of comfort, almost like the dancing itself had been a wounded friend, and somehow by only doing it privately and emotionally, she was helping it to be something more positive every bit as much as it was helping her heal.

While dancing, Natasha lets her mind wander. She allows herself to feel things she doesn’t express to others. At several points in her life when things hurt her emotionally, she took time out to dance. Such as when Wanda dredged up memories of the Red Room in her mind, when Bruce left her, and often during the years between Infinity War and Endgame. As far as hat her most treasured creation is... I suppose it isn’t something solid she can hold in her hands, but every time she dances, she feels like she’s created something good. And I would definitely say it’s treasured because it’s cathartic for her and helps her to feel whole and less anxious, and there's incredible value in that for her.

Cardinal- how does your muse recover from strong emotions? How do they recouperate? (Michael)

Since the word “recover” is being used, I’m assuming the strong emotions in question are negative ones? Anger, sadness, frustration, fear, those sorts of things? Typically, he needs to take a step back and be quiet and/or alone for a time to reset himself. Michael does have a temper, and he does feel emotions like sadness and grief very strongly, so sometimes he needs to step back and make sure that he doesn’t make any rash decisions based off of emotion. Quiet prayer usually helps, but if not that then just sitting quietly alone for a time, preferably out in nature somewhere, usually serves to reset his internal composure and steady his mind. Michael doesn’t like to act impulsively or in anger, so if he feels himself about to do that, he usually steps away. The one exception is when someone he cares about is in danger, then he might act on his protective instincts. Regret follows, but again, he finds prayer to be comforting to him in those types of moments.

#{ i am the caretaker of souls } ᵒᵒᶜ #headcanons #muse: michael #muse: ethan cavender #muse: tony stark #muse: natasha romanoff

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supermanshield · 4 years

Text

Started this a couple months ago, finished it in home isolation. Superbat, 3k words.

Summary: The Justice League decides it's time to get to know each other out of costume. Some people are less happy with this than others, but eventually even Batman agrees.

Note: This doesn't comply with any canon, because I made my own. I even have a timeline and everything.

AO3 Link

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“If that is all, I would like to hereby close this meeting,” Superman said.

“Superman, I would like to have a word with everyone.”

“You had your chance, Diana. Meeting’s over,” Batman interjected while getting up from his seat.

“This doesn’t concern League matters, Batman. Barry and I have been talking, and we think it beneficial to share more time together. As friends.”

Barry looked at Batman narrowing his eyes while gripping his chair. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Uhh… It would be good for the team to see each other out of costume, like a dinner party, picnic or game night. Just something not trauma or crisis related.”

“Oh, but game night would end in massive trauma for all of you,” Dinah interjected, laughing. Before Barry could continue his invitation, Batman growled, “And a picnic would end in crisis, so if that’s all, I’ll be on my way.”

“Batman, wait,” Diana started. “On Themyscira, my warrior sisters and I would often spend time together in the bathhouses after training.”

“Now that’s a reason to visit Themyscira. Ow!” Dinah elbowed Oliver in the ribs. Diana shot him a glare, “It also helps with team-building and finding mutual respect for each other.”

Barry was about to consider his efforts a lost cause when Superman came to the rescue. “I think it’s a great idea! It would be nice to get to know each other better outside of hero business. What do you think, Batman?”

“It’s a waste of time. Everyone’s busy enough as it is.” This was it. Lost cause. No approval from Batman meant no picnic. “…But if you really must, you can organize it without me.” With a swoosh of his cape, Batman stalked out of the room.

“His loss. More food for us, right buddy,” Hal laughed while elbowing Barry. “Exactly! Let’s try to come up with an activity and set a date.” It would be fine without Bruce; he would just bring down the mood anyway. Although his manor was probably the most suitable and private location, so now they would have to figure out an alternative.

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As Superman floated into the Batcave later that night, the computers were whirring, Bruce typing quietly. The past couple of weeks had been good to them. No intergalactic missions, no supervillains breaking out. To be honest, there hadn’t been that many league missions at all, which was a good thing. Clark had been able to catch up at work, Bruce had had time to work on new gadgets and actually attend meetings at WE on time for once. They were still busy, still patrolled their own cities and Clark did a sweep around the globe once a day, but life was almost… normal.

When Clark got close to Bruce, he didn’t even look up from his work. Yet somehow, he still heard Clark’s unasked question in the silence.

“They’re right you know, it’s been scientifically proven that teams are more efficient if the members get together outside of work. It helps with trust and communication.”

“So…? Why don’t you want to get together?”

“…I was thinking about proposing something like this myself.”

Clark smiled. “Looks like they beat you to it, then. So… does this mean -“

“That’s not what I was saying, Clark. I don’t need any more prying eyes into my life. Our lives.”

“Just humour them, Bruce. You know they’d want to do it here.”

“Which is exactly what I don’t want. More chaos in this house.” Bruce rubbed his temple.

“Like you would notice any more people or accidents between the kids and the pets.”

A sigh. “I just don’t need to share every part of my life with them. It’s unnecessary.”

Bruce was making lame excuses, trying to discard the scientific proof he’d found. Which of course he couldn’t ignore. But Clark knew him. He had one last trick up his sleeve. “All right. If you don’t want to do it for them, then do it for me? Maybe I want to share my life with my friends.” He looked into Bruce’s eyes with the brightest smile he could muster in the faint lights of the computer screens. Bruce looked down, thinking. After what seemed like an eternity of Bruce probably going through every scenario about the get-together in his mind, he finally looked up at Clark again.

“Hmph. Fine. But,” Bruce said while holding up a finger, holding off the incoming hug, “on one condition. Not here. At Oliver’s.” Then Clark hugged him.

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On Sunday afternoon, Dinah was in the kitchen putting the last of the sauces and dips together. She put everything on a big tray and carried it outside, where Oliver was just firing up the barbecue. Grilling had been his idea as soon as they had decided to do the party at their house. So now Oliver was juggling spatulas, flipping patties and throwing cheese on them, trying to proof her wrong about not being able to make enough burgers for Flash, Green Lantern and Superman.

Dinah hadn’t been in the League for very long yet, and she hadn’t seen everyone together in civvies before. She wondered if it had ever happened. Barry and Hal were friends and spent time together, and she knew Clark and Bruce hung out. There was proof of that in the news often enough. She wondered how much it was just Clark covering Bruce’s galas and fund-raising events, or a façade to gather intel for joint missions, and how much it was them actually being friends. Diana would spend most of her time she wasn’t needed here, back on Themyscira.

So, it was nice having everyone here together in her garden. It was a warm day, the cool tiles of the kitchen welcoming on her bare feet and when she walked outside with her tray the grass tickled her toes. Today there was no pretending. Even Bruce had showed up and was actually making small talk with Hal. Probably judging Oliver’s barbecue skills together.

“You need help with that, Dinah?” Barry said as he rushed over and made enough space on the table for her tray before she even had time to reply. “Thanks, Barry. I could use some help with the veggies too.” “Oh please, let me help,” Diana said, pointing her thumb back at the guys as she walked over. “They are discussing how to make the best burgers and I have no interest in it.” Dinah laughed. Every time Oliver made burgers, she and him would get into an argument over how to shape the patties for the best flavour. Oliver was very defensive of his rather thick burgers.

Vegetables were cut and then grilled on the barbecue, and Oliver had assembled an impressive stack of burgers. He persisted, and Dinah loved him for it. When everyone joined at the table, they sat at the head end. Dinah stood up and said “Thank you all for coming! I hope you will enjoy your meal and each other’s company, especially after that disastrous camping trip Hal keeps telling me vague stories about,” She winked.

“Ha! As long as this doesn’t include sleep overs or making fire, we should be good,” Hal smirked.

Before Clark could start defending himself, Barry already cut in urging everyone to talk about something else and just eat. So they did. And it went well; there was laughter and conversation, the sun slowly setting in the background. They talked about normal things really, the weather, politics. Hal’s plans for the summer. Clark told them he would go back to the farm at the end of summer to help his mother with the harvest, Barry shared stories about his co-workers at the crime lab. It wasn’t that they avoided talking about league stuff, they just didn’t need to. Dinah looked at Bruce. He’d been silently observing, laughing along with the jokes. Sure, batman cracked a joke occasionally, but to see him genuinely laughing and being himself was different. Yet, it was hard to get a read on the man. Like today, he was clearly enjoying himself, but somehow all of it was still shrouded in secrecy; he didn’t share much. On the direct opposite of that was Clark, a man who shared everything he stood for. Except-

As Clark reached across the table for the ketchup, the sunlight hit it. A silver (or was it white gold?) band around his ring finger. How no one had noticed it so far, she wasn’t sure. But now, it was very clear. Barry was the first to speak. “Oooh, who’s the lucky lady, S?”

Clark was visibly shocked, looked at his ring for a moment as if it hadn’t been there before, then around the table. “Huh? Uhh… oh, it’s not important.” Not important?

“Not important?” Oliver voiced her thoughts. “Someone married Superman, and we didn’t even know about it?”

“Scratch that! Who got to take Superman home is the real question here,” Hal snickered. “Does she know you’re… you know, him?”

“Oh, trust me, they know,” Clark said calmly while putting the bottle of ketchup back.

“So, who is it?” Hal prodded.

“Yes, who Clark?”

“Is it Lois? Have you finally tied the knot?”

“I haven’t been with her for years, Barry.”

“Someone from Smallville then?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

“Tell us Clark. Don’t keep us in suspense!” By now, Clark looked seriously displeased, stammering excuses.

“How did you meet?” Diana tried. Smart move, narrow down the suspects. “Uh… through work?” Clark offered. Great, there must be over a hundred people working at the Daily Planet. That didn’t help. Or it could be someone he’d interviewed, that made the pool of potential Superman spouses even bigger. Discussion broke out, theories being thrown around and the chaos was complete. Everyone, including Dinah herself, was too busy to notice Clark shooting a mortified look at Bruce, who scowled back.

“Enough.” Clark said in a calm Superman voice, making them all quiet down in an instant. “I’m sure we’ll be ready to share it someday. Let’s please just get back to eating now.” His face was stern.

Everyone quieted down, but the atmosphere wasn’t the same. Diana tried to ask Bruce about his charity work and steer the conversation to a more pleasant topic. The air was full of questions and few words were spoken. Oliver suggested they all just clean up and go inside to share a drink and play some darts. “Come on, you and Bruce would win that by a landslide!” Barry protested, but Bruce politely declined and started saying his goodbyes and thanked Dinah and Oliver for dinner. After that, Clark left quickly. Then Hal, Barry, and finally Diana. “I’m sure they will come around eventually, Dinah. Just give them some time.” And flew away after a quick peck on her cheek.

----------------

Over the next month in the watchtower, whispers and guesses about Superman’s secret spouse were going around. They’d stop as soon as Superman walked into the room, which was stupid of course, because he’d probably already heard them. Clark started looking more cheerless every meeting, until by some miracle, the core members of the justice league all got invited to have dinner at Wayne Manor. Bruce had apologized to Dinah for how the barbecue had ended, and to everyone’s shock proposed a new get-together. So now she and Ollie were pulling up on the driveway to a massive mansion atop a hill in Gotham city. Oliver had been there before, but she had never seen it, aside from pictures. It was intimidating. “I thought we had a pretty big villa…” She whispered to Oliver. He smiled. “Just remember to close your mouth when you see the great hall, babe.”

As they were making their way up the stone stairs to the front door, it was opened by Clark. “Hey guys, welcome! Come in, come in,” he said, reaching out his hands to them. He was wearing jeans and a simple t-shirt, no glasses. Inside, he took their coats and put them away in a little room off to the left. Because of course, the hallway closet was just a separate room. Despite what Oliver had said, Dinah was in awe. The entrance hall opened up to reveal a two-story room, complete with chandeliers, two winding stairs going up to a balcony, and actual armour displays.

“I know, I was kind of starstruck too, the first time I came here,” Clark appeared at her side. At that moment, Bruce appeared from a room behind the grand staircase. He was wearing a turtleneck and slacks. He shook Oliver’s hands, kissed Dinah on the cheek. “Welcome, welcome, do you want a drink? Let’s go to the study.”

“Where are all your kids, Bruce? I half expected an ambush here.”

“Not here, thank god.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen helping Alfred.” Clark declared and disappeared down a hallway.

“How many do you have now, anyway?” Oliver asked.

“Too many- Maybe you can make your burgers for all of them some time,” Bruce teased Oliver.

“Shouldn’t you be the one helping in the kitchen?”

Bruce stared blankly at Dinah. “I haven’t been allowed in there all day.”

Bruce showed them to the study, where they sat down on some very comfortable couches, and poured them some drinks. Soon, the rest of the league arrived. Dinah made her way around the study, inspecting the massive bookcases, until she found the music section. She wondered if there was a library with even more books.

“Oh Bruce, please tell me you have a music room.” This many pieces of sheet music, someone in this house had to be talented. And Bruce would have the means to have a full-blown orchestra hidden somewhere. She picked up a book about saxophones and sat down at the desk. “We do, actually. Damian likes to play a lot.” So Bruce’s youngest was the talent. She didn’t know much about him besides that he was the current Robin. “Ok, you’re going to have to show me that after dinner.”

She flipped open the book, Top tones for Saxophone, and read something about note placement. And then she saw it. Bruce’s desk was large, mahogany, and very organised. There was a laptop – closed, an expensive looking pen set, some paperwork, and glasses. But there were more personal items too, photos. The picture frames were facing Dinah, so the rest of the group couldn’t see them from where they were sitting on the couches. There was a picture of Kara and two other girls, one blonde and one black haired. One with the four Wayne boys, she knew them – had even worked with Red Hood once, and many times with Red Robin – but out of costume they were hard to tell apart. Then there was a picture of a bunch of teens and Alfred with a mickey hat at Disneyland, castle in the background. She knew Bruce was protective of his sidekicks and partners, but never knew they were such a normal… family. So, all of this was a slight surprise, but manageable. At the last picture however, her mind simply stopped. And started up again. And then a lot of things started making sense. Because that was Clark. And Bruce. Their hands on each other’s arms. Clark was smiling at whoever took the picture, and Bruce was looking at Clark in a way Dinah had never seen on Batman. Love.

In the middle of the room, Oliver was telling everyone a story about Kite-man. Hal was picking away tears at the corners of his eyes and Barry was slapping his thighs with laughter. Even Diana was laughing along. Dinah looked at Bruce. Clark had greeted them at the door. Bruce had said ‘we do’ when Dinah asked about the music room. He’d been very quiet last month when they were making fun of Clark’s secret marriage. He was the one that apologized for how the barbecue had ended, even though he had nothing to do with it. But apparently, he had everything to do with it.

While her mind was racing through all this at a 100 miles per hour, Bruce caught her eye, winked, and raised his glass at her. On his ring finger, a white golden band.

As if on cue, Clark then came in the room to tell everyone the starter course was ready to be served. Everyone made their way out of the study towards the dining room and took a seat.

At dinner, they were joined by Alfred, who Dinah had never really met before besides earlier tonight and in the cave downstairs. The table was set decadently, loaded with soup, a stew, bread, vegetables and wine. Bruce was seated at the head of the table, with Clark to his left, and Alfred to his right.

“Oh my, I’m terribly sorry but I seem to have forgotten a ladle for the soup. Excuse me,” Alfred started pushing his chair back, but Clark cut in. “Don’t worry Alfred, I’ll get it.”

When Clark came back with the ladle, he started passing out soup to whoever wanted. It was too easy. Dinah just couldn’t resist saying “So Clark, you know your way around here pretty well it seems.” Clark, ladle halfway towards Barry’s bowl, calmly said “I do, yes. Bruce and I work together a lot and I- “

“Clark.” Bruce cut him off. “She knows.”

“Ah. Hm.” Clark cleared his throat. He had stopped passing out soup and stood up straighter now. Looked at Bruce. “Well, did you want to…?”

“Yes.” Bruce stood up too now.

To her right, Barry leant over and whispered, “What’s happening? What do you know?” Dinah remained silent.

“Um,” Bruce starts. Batman nervous, never thought she’d see that. “Clark and I are both hosting tonight.” Okay… it’s a start. But still-

“What? Clark paid for half of all this food?” Barry wondered out loud. On the other side of the table, Hal was trying hard to contain his laughter.

Diana sighed and put her face in her hand. “Just tell them already.”

What’s going on? Oliver mouthed at Dinah. She shrugged, curious to see how this would play out.

“Superman’s secret spouse. It’s me.” Bruce said curt. And at the same time, “Bruce and I are married.”

Barry’s mouth fell open, Hal finally started laughing but quickly regained control and raised his glass. “Well, congratulations you two!”

“So, to come back to your question from earlier Oliver, we have about 8 now.”

“8 what?” Hal asked, confused.

“Children.” Clark now had his arm around Bruce’s waist, and probably the brightest smile ever on his face.

“Okay, remind me to never babysit here if I need some money.”

Oliver turned to Dinah. “How did you know?” “Figured it out just now. A picture on Bruce’s desk. Very cute by the way.” She smiled. “And he has a wedding ring that matches Clark’s. I don’t think it was that much of a secret.”

To Dinah’s left, Alfred whispered to her, “Mrs. Queen, there are loads more pictures of them. I’ll show you their wedding album after dinner if you are interested.”

Before Bruce could protest, Barry seemed to finally catch up to the situation. “Wait, stop! You’re telling me we missed the wedding of Batman and Superman?! You owe us a do-over.”

Clark laughed at that. “I think it’s time we started dinner. Enjoy!”

----------------

Later that night, Bruce and Clark were seated on one couch in the study, the guests huddled around Alfred with the wedding album on the other. Bruce watched them and couldn’t stop a smile forming around his mouth. Alfred was positively beaming with pride, and the crowd laughed as they were now undoubtedly looking at the cake-cutting pictures. Bruce interlaced his fingers with Clark and leaned into him some more. He felt the other man relax.

“See? Not so bad, was it?” Clark whispered. Bruce hmm-ed back in response.

And indeed, there was something to be said for spending time outside of work with co-workers. With friends.

#superbat #write write

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paceypeternathanslawyer · 3 years

Note

I think people refer to Pacey as rogue because the show does. DC describes him as ”roguishly charming.” In fact, Pacey used those words to describe himself in the finale.

I think there is some truth to him being the “bad boy.” Pacey was supposed to be opposite of “nice guy” Dawson. That’s why the writers had Pacey sleep with his teacher in the first season. The audience just didn’t see him as the bad boy in the scenario because we knew that he was being groomed. The writers, however, saw things differently.

I think that in the later seasons, the writers pigeon hole Pacey into the bad boy/screwup role. They have him cheating on Audrey with his boss, sleeping with married women etc. I’m not a fan of what they did with his character but I do think he fits some of the bad boy tropes.

The bad boy moniker I don't have too much of an issue with because I think certain people in the show like Capeside teachers view him as a bad boy. I still don't see him as a bad boy though.

I stand by what I said about the term "rogue." Clearly those people have never googled what it means because Pacey is not a rogue. He has very strong principles and he is in no way dishonest. Pacey also says in season 4, how he can't stand to look at himself in the mirror. His own feeling of self worth is up and down depending on what horrible things he's going through.

It's actually very concerning to me that the writers view Pacey being raped by his teacher as him being a bad boy. I'm not saying your wrong cause I do think that what the writers wanted us to believe. Fuck you Kevin Williamson. He should be ashamed of himself for passing along that horrible, toxic, bullshit perspective. That does not make Pacey a bad boy, it makes him abused and her mind games, gaslighting, and abuse contributed to his lack of confidence in much of his life.

As to the situation with his boss. He was sexually abused there too. He was her employee and she kissed him knowing he was dating someone while at work. Workplace sexual harassment anyone? Tamara looms large in his life as well. Her grooming of him affected how he deals with older women for the rest of his life. Especially since he never got psychiatric help for that trauma. His boss also was playing some sort of mind games on him. After Audrey broke up with him and he agreed to have sex with her she said that she didn't want to have sex with him anymore she "just wanted to know she could" what kind of fucked up mind games is that. Also keep in mind that she is his manager at work. Completely fucked up and unprofessional.

As to sleeping with a married woman... definitely not his greatest decision but every one is allowed to make a mistake here and there it doesn't necessarily make you a "bad boy."

I have no particular problem with how Pacey was written in later episodes. In fact, in season 5 and 6 Pacey is the only good part of that show.

I guess my point about the bad boy moniker is that he has his bad boy moments every once in a while but it's typically in protection of other people. Like him beating guys up if they treat women badly. He's not a bad boy most of the time... he's a soft boi 90% of the time. Considering the toxic masculinity he was surrounded by growing up he could have been so much worse. He's sweet and gentle and perfect unless you cross the people he loves then there will be hell to pay 😁🔥❤

#dawson's creek #pacey witter #the wb #joshua jackson

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kenzieam · 4 years

Text

Beauty and the Blackheart - Chapter One

@jewels2876 @moonbeambucky @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt @badassbaker @pinknerdpanda

I know I’m forgetting people, sorry. If you want in, hit me.

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

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, general nuttiness, smut

Word Count: 2750+

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

Okay, so……

Lev, the serious one, is visiting her wild-child twin brother, Clint. There she meets Bucky, a tall, dark, brooding mystery who’s her total opposite in every way. Of course, she’s intrigued even as her mind screams to run for safety, but what could go wrong, right??

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

As the seatbelt light shut off, Lev exhaled a deep breath and stood, pulling on her plain white button-down shirt to smooth the wrinkles and drew her backpack from the overhead compartment. Slinging it on her shoulder, she waited quietly to exit, grimacing faintly as a Karen behind her began to object loudly to the order, demanding she and her little darling exit first.

Lev agreed wholeheartedly, about to push the bitch out of the plane herself, boot her offspring out behind her, but held back, taking another deep breath.

Thankfully, no one else seemed inclined to indulge Karen and she subsided with a few indignant, unladylike sounds, falling into line with something resembling humility.

And, thankfully, Karen headed off in the opposite direction once they hit Arrivals. No doubt to find someone else to pay for her inconvenience.

Jesus, that was why she’d chosen Trauma medicine as her specialty, the situations were too life-and-death for such foolishness. Shaking it off, she raised on her tiptoes to see over the crowd, looking for a certain familiar face.

“Hey, Trouble!”

Lev startled, whirling. “Jesus, Clint!”

He laughed gleefully, killing himself and Lev fought a smile, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re a bastard.” She said, by way of greeting, which only added to Clint’s mirth. Still howling, he slung an arm around her neck, giving her a close-up view of his heavily tattooed forearm.

“I missed you,” he laughed, pressing a messy kiss to her hair, roughing it up just the way he knew she hated.

The perfect definition of ‘good twin/bad twin’, Clint and Lev were alike only in a shared birthdate and parents. Even from birth it was obvious they were polar opposites; the fair-haired little Clint wild and incorrigible, the darker Levka all seriousness and calm serenity. While Clint could rock and roll for hours past bedtime, infant Lev would settle right away, ignoring the antics of her slightly older brother as he weebled and wobbled the next crib over.

The dichotomy continued throughout their childhood, with Clint deciding to refer to his serious little sister as ‘Trouble’ entirely to illustrate just how ‘un-trouble-like’ she truly was, while he happily answered to anything she threw at him, up to and including ‘you little shit’.

“I missed you, too.” Lev admitted, fighting a grin; although complete opposites, they were inseparable, yin and yang all though their shared lives.

“C’mon.” Clint pulled her towards the luggage carousel, squinting at the rotating bags. “So, which plain black bag is yours?”

Lev made a face, just because he preferred shades electric didn’t make hers plain. Reaching for the familiar case she smirked when Clint whistled.

“Whew, a silver one? Who are you and what did you do with my baby sister?”

“Shut up,” Lev laughed, dropping the case unceremoniously in Clint’s arms, grinning when he grunted under the weight. “Take me home, I’m hungry.”

Clint rolled his eyes, jerking his chin in the right direction as he turned and walked away.

“So, how’s the life of a doctor?” Clint asked as they roared down the highway, perched high in his jacked-up pickup.

Lev grinned. “I’ve just finished my residency, I’m not a true doctor yet.”

“But you will be, soon?”

Lev nodded. “Yeah, I took a few months off but I’m pretty sure I’ll be working with Dr. Hawkins.”

“That ER guy? The one you trained under?”

“He’s the one.”

“What is it with you and that ER trauma stuff?”

“What is it with you and tattoos?” Lev shot back mildly. “You never even had a tattoo until you met Nat out here.”

Clint shrugged, glancing down at his fully inked arms. Ten years ago, when Lev had been heading directly to university after high school graduation, Clint had thrown a duffel bag into his old beat-up Camaro and gone on a road trip, no destination in mind, no real plans. After a while he’d met a similarly spirited woman named Natalie and, after a whole whirlwind week of romance, married her in her hometown city hall, calling afterwards to inform his family that he was surprise! married and moving in with his new wife.

If Clint had been anything less than a Tasmanian Devil all his life, this might have surprised his family, but his parents took the news in quite a blasé way, even laughing as they told Lev during their weekly check-ins.

While Lev had met her sister-in-law a few times in the decade since, it had always been when Clint had flown home to visit, and Lev happened to be home from school as well. She’d never gone out to visit her brother, and these few months after her residency had been the perfect time to remedy that.

“You going to let me give you a tattoo finally?” Clint asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Lev leveled a glare at him. “Are you any good?” It was a joke, and they both knew it. Despite having never touched a tattoo gun until after he’d married Nat, Clint had proved himself an absolute prodigy, joining Nat’s brother and his friend as an apprentice in the local parlour and quickly becoming a startling skilled artist.

Five years ago, that brother-in-law, his friend and Clint had all gotten together to open their own shop, Blackheart Ink and Body Mod, where you could get a wrist tattoo and a nipple piercing all in the same day.

“You know I am.”

“No.”

“C’mon, get a piercing at least.”

“No!”

“It doesn’t have to be visible-”

“Clinton Derrick Barton!”

“Levka Valentina! Or should I say Dr. Levka Valentina Barton!”

“Don’t,” Lev rolled her eyes. “I still say mom was high when she named me, you at least got something normal, which is ironic, since you’re anything but.”

“Love you, little sis.”

“Love you too, ass. Are you taking me to your place?”

“Nah, I thought we’d stop by the shop first.”

Lev hesitated, she felt dirty and wrinkled, always preferred meeting strangers looking her best.

“You look fine.” Clint deadpanned. “Stop worrying.”

Lev huffed at her infuriating brother, pulling down the visor to check herself in the mirror. Frowning, she pinched her cheeks for color, making Clint shake his head and chuckle. Running her fingers through her hair she contemplated grabbing some facial wipes from her backpack, but by then Clint was slowing down, flipping on his signal light.

“Here it is.” He announced proudly, pulling up in front of a large storefront. Painted black, with the shop’s name displayed prominently you would be hard to mistake this as anything but a black hole of debauchery and Clint grinned, elbowing Lev when he saw this in her eyes.

“You’re such a snob.” He teased, laughing.

“And you’re deranged.” Lev lobbed back, sticking out her tongue.

“Do that again and one of the guys will pierce it.” Clint snickered, yanking open the glass door. “Hey assholes, I’m back! Oh, hey Spider, didn’t know you were here, getting a touch up?” Instantly Clint integrated himself into his habitat, heightening the difference between him and his sister, who stood just inside, looking lost.

“Christ, baby. You could introduce her to everyone.” Nat scolded mildly, elbowing Clint as she passed. “Hey, honey. Welcome!” She opened her arms, gathering Lev into a tight hug, pulling back to grin at her. “You look great, Lev. How are you?”

“I’m good, Nat. Thanks. What about you.” Lev replied, grinning, almost stupidly grateful.

“Oh, getting by. These guys keep me busy.” Nat gestured over her shoulder with the flip of a wrist, which seemed to be some kind of signal for Clint and a tall blond holding a tattoo gun and leaning over whom she assumed was ‘Spider’ based on the giant Black Widow tattoo on his bald head, to start hooting like monkeys. Nat’s gesture morphed instantly into the bird, which she doubled by adding her other hand when she spun to face the men. “Oh, shut the hell up!” Glancing back at Lev she grinned fondly. “See, barbarians and fools.”

“Hey.” Spider protested with a grin.

“And bikers.” Nat teased back, taking Lev’s hand and pulling her nearer. “Lev, this is Spider, as I’m sure you’ve figured out.”

Lev offered a timid smile, received a crooked grin and wave back, one gold tooth glinting underneath a thick goatee.

“And this big dickhead is my brother, Steve.” Nat continued.

Steve pulled his attention away from Spider’s tattooed bicep and nodded, a surprisingly handsome smile lighting up his face. “Hi.” His deep voice was gentle, a startling contrast to his intimidating bulk, highlighted by a fitted tank top that hugged each muscle and showing miles of velvety, inked skin. A short crewcut showed off strong, clean-shaven features and his blue eyes sparkled with good humor. “So, you’re Clint’s twin sister. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Lev felt her cheeks warm; she could only imagine the stories Clint had told. “Oh, really?” She squeaked, flicking a glance at Clint, who grinned merrily back.

“Uh huh,” Steve turned his attention back to Spider’s arm, wiping carefully at a spot before speaking again. “He says you’re a doctor.”

“Yeah,” Clint broke in, slinging an arm around Lev’s neck. “She can take a look at that growth on your ass-”

“Clint!” Both Lev and Nat screeched, and he yelped as Nat connected with the back of his head.

Steve threw Clint a look, one of mild exasperation and brotherly tolerance before turning his blue eyes back to Lev. “I don’t have a growth on my ass, but maybe you can prescribe your brother some sort of heavy sedative.”

“Hey!”

Steve grinned at him, lessening the dig then winked at Lev. “Welcome, Lev. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Lev replied, feeling herself relax. He may have looked like a barbarian, as Nat had put it, but Steve seemed to be a kind soul, a genuinely benevolent person.

“I was wondering where you were hiding!” Clint suddenly shouted, pointing as if Elvis himself had just appeared from the back room. “Lev, this is the other third of the Blackheart team, Bucky.”

Lev turned at Clint’s direction and froze, her heart suddenly afflicted with tachycardia.

If she’d thought Steve was big, she was wrong, for Bucky was bigger still. Thick, corded muscles flexed as he paused, brow furrowing slightly as he seemed to be working out what Clint was babbling about. A thick but neatly trimmed beard obscured most of his face, while his chocolate brown hair brushed his shoulders and fell over a pair of startingly blue eyes.

He looks like he could pick me up and snap me in half, Lev thought shakily. She’d seen similar builds and musculature on heavyweight cage fighters, brought into the ER with some gruesome injury after their latest match and she couldn’t be sure if her pulse was racing in fear or something else entirely.

Bucky, the name didn’t belong on such a giant and Lev licked her lips nervously, feeling like she was standing in the entrance of a dark forest, able to hear a low growling from inside.

The silence in the shop was suddenly overwhelming to Lev, she could feel her heartbeat making ripples in the surrounding air and she stumbled to speak.

“Hi,” it came out little better than a squeak, broadcasting to everyone in the room that she was scared shitless of the newest arrival.

Piercing blue eyes locked on hers and a shadow passed through them, too fast for Lev to understand. He started moving again, lumbering to a workstation closer to where Lev, Clint and Nat stood. The padded stool groaned under his weight as he sat, setting a series of drawings on a light-up tabletop and he grunted, nodding once at her, before returning his attention to his papers.

“Okay,” if this was unusual, Clint gave no indication. “Let me show you around, kid.”

Lev followed obediently, saw Bucky glance up at her once as she passed, then look quickly back down and she hoped she didn’t stink from her plane ride.

In the back was a supply room, large break room and three private rooms. All three men, Clint explained, had a private room for quote ‘nervous’ customers or ‘intimate’ piercings, in addition to their spaces out in the front and the customer was free to choose where they wanted to be, however most decided to stay out front to be a part of the varied conversations that flowed like cheap beer.

“So, you all do body piercing too?” Lev clarified, eyeing a clearly sterilized and sealed tray in what Clint had said was Bucky’s room.

“Yeah,” he answered, peeking over her shoulder. “Bucky does the most of the three of us, but we all do a fair bit. Why, you thinking about one?” He elbowed her and snickered, then grabbed the side of her head and pressed a loud kiss to her temple. “Shit, I missed you little sis. It’s been too long!”

Lev agreed, for all their differences, there was nobody Lev loved more than her infuriating twin brother and smiled at him, leaning in for a quick hug.

Clint squeezed her bone-creakingly hard for a moment then released her. “You want to go? You’re probably tired.”

Relief washed over Lev, she’d kill for a shower and nap. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

“So….” Lev began, then wished she’d kept her damn mouth shut. Steve, Nat and Spider had bid her goodbye with friendly calls and waves, while Bucky had continued to glower, like a toad on a stump, Lev thought sourly and it had continued to bother her, even as they left Blackheart in the rear-view.

“So?” Clint asked leadingly, cocking a brow in question as he kept most of his attention on the road. The truck rumbled underneath them, the obligatory air freshener, in the iconic silhouette of a Trucker Girl, swinging from the rear-view mirror.

“Is Bucky always that talkative?” She gritted her teeth, hating herself instantly for asking. Clint could take this as anything from a dig at his friend’s personality to a thinly veiled show of interest and, with her luck, he’d assume the latter.

“Yeah….” Clint drew out the word, as if considering what to say next. “Just be careful around him, little sis.”

Lev jerked her head to stare at him. What was he talking about? Had he opened a business with a convicted murderer or something?

Clint chuckled, reading her horrified gaze correctly. “Nothing like that, kid. Buck’s just…. intense. He parties hard, lives hard. Nicest guy you’ll ever meet if you’re a friend, but I’ve never seen him with the same girl more than once or twice.”

Oh. That was crystal clear. Hands off.

“I didn’t-”

“No judgement,” Clint interrupted. “But we all know he’s a handsome guy and you wouldn’t be the first to get burned if you tried to touch him.”

Sometimes, a completely different side of Clint appeared; a stable, rational man and Lev knew better than to waste that guy’s wisdom by not listening the rare times he did surface.

“Don’t worry, though. He’s alright. He won’t, like, try anything with you. You’re not his type.”

“Oh, really?” The sand in the Sahara was wetter than Lev’s voice.

“Yeah,” Clint nodded, signalling to turn down a residential street, waiting until an old lady hobbled slowly through the crosswalk. Lowering the window, he leaned his head out. “You need a hand, Sylvia?”

Sylvia peered upwards to see the speaker then smiled. “No, dear boy. I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

Clint sat back upright, completing the turn and glanced sideways at Lev’s surprised look. “What? She’s a nice old lady, asks us to fix little things around her house, brings cookies by the shop.”

Lev grinned, warmed by her brother’s sudden display of heart then remembered their earlier conversation. “Not his type, huh?”

“Nah,” Clint took the change of subject easily, turning into the driveway of a modest little Craftsman. The only hint that someone like him lived there was a ‘Tattoo Gods Only Parking’ sign above the garage door. “You’re too buttoned-up, too serious. He dates girls that can twist cherry stems into knots with their tongues and deep throat like a porn-star.”

“Ewww!”

Clint shrugged before gesturing out the windshield. “We’re here!”

#bucky barnes #bucky #au bucky #au bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #au bucky barnes fanfic #au bucky barnes fanfiction #au bucky romance #au bucky smut #au bucky drama #bucky and lev #bucky x lev

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secretlyatargaryen · 4 years

Text

I'm really, really tired of Tyrion haters getting up in arms about his thought about how Sansa's grief made her "more beautiful” like it’s somehow the worst thing in the world.

Y'all will be like "how dare this disabled man feel attraction, gross" and then use the quote on ten thousand queen Sansa gif sets.

fyi I’m talking about this quote:

Her hair was a rich autumn auburn, her eyes a deep Tully blue. Grief had given her a haunted, vulnerable look; if anything, it had only made her more beautiful.

I mean, yeah, the quote is an obvious example of Tyrion idealizing Sansa and he's thinking of her as less of a person here and more of what she represents to him, as a romantic ideal that is out of reach. Sansa is everything he wants but can't have and is told that he shouldn't want to have because of his disability, beautiful, high born - the fact that she is a hostage of the Lannisters only idealizes her more because it makes her unattainable. Of course this is problematic, but Tyrion knows this. He also knows he shouldn't feel this way and part of his policing of his own thoughts are about how horrible this situation is for her and he doesn't want to put her through any more suffering, and part of it is him thinking that he shouldn't feel this way because he's a dwarf and the internalized ableism he constantly puts himself through as a result of his own trauma. So when I see y'all be like "how dare he" I think about how Tyrion himself thinks of any romantic/sexual feelings he has (towards anyone) as inherently wrong because of his dwarfism.

I want her, he realized. I want Winterfell, yes, but I want her as well, child or woman or whatever she is. I want to comfort her. I want to hear her laugh. I want her to come to me willingly, to bring me her joys and her sorrows and her lust. His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. Yes, and I want to be tall as Jaime and as strong as Ser Gregor the Mountain too, for all the bloody good it does.

I mean, of course Tyrion idealizes women and especially tragic women. He grew up with a horribly abusive father and an absent mother who was constantly held up as a tragic ideal and whose death he was directly blamed for. I also suspect this is part of why he sees Sansa as someone who he both wishes he could save and feels responsible for. Which makes it really strange that people ignore all that in his pov and claim that Tyrion doesn’t understand or empathize with Sansa’s grief.

He had expected anguish and anger when he told her of her brother's death, but Sansa's face had remained so still that for a moment he feared she had not understood. It was only later, with a heavy oaken door between them, that he heard her sobbing. Tyrion had considered going to her then, to offer what comfort he could. No, he had to remind himself, she will not look for solace from a Lannister. The most he could do was to shield her from the uglier details of the Red Wedding as they came down from the Twins. Sansa did not need to hear how her brother's body had been hacked and mutilated, he decided; nor how her mother's corpse had been dumped naked into the Green Fork in a savage mockery of House Tully's funeral customs. The last thing the girl needed was more fodder for her nightmares.

It was not enough, though. He had wrapped his cloak around her shoulders and sworn to protect her, but that was as cruel a jape as the crown the Freys had placed atop the head of Robb Stark's direwolf after they'd sewn it onto his headless corpse. Sansa knew that as well. The way she looked at him, her stiffness when she climbed into their bed . . . when he was with her, never for an instant could he forget who he was, or what he was. No more than she did. She still went nightly to the godswood to pray, and Tyrion wondered if she were praying for his death. She had lost her home, her place in the world, and everyone she had ever loved or trusted. Winter is coming, warned the Stark words, and truly it had come for them with a vengeance. But it is high summer for House Lannister. So why am I so bloody cold?

Tyrion knows he can’t do anything for her and he knows he shouldn’t try and that he’s just imposing on her or making it worse. He also knows that he shouldn’t be feeling bad for the Starks because it’s technically treason and that complicates his feelings towards her as well.

Tyrion also relates to Sansa's sadness and allows her to feel and express her grief in a way that few other people in King's Landing do, perhaps because he relates to her as someone who also feels trapped by his family and who knows what it feels like to be helpless.

"I . . ." Sansa did not know what to say. Is it a trick? Will he punish me if I tell the truth? She stared at the dwarf's brutal bulging brow, the hard black eye and the shrewd green one, the crooked teeth and wiry beard. "I only want to be loyal."

"Loyal," the dwarf mused, "and far from any Lannisters. I can scarce blame you for that. When I was your age, I wanted the same thing." He smiled.

Tyrion’s very first interaction with Sansa is him expressing validation of her feelings and her grief - that she’s constantly being forced to deny - and her feeling comfortable enough to actually trust him because he’s in a similar liminal space as her, being seen as a “traitor” to her family and having to act the part but a hostage of his.

His grin turned into something softer as he studied her face. "Is it grief for your lord father that makes you so sad?"

"My father was a traitor," Sansa said at once. "And my brother and lady mother are traitors as well." That reflex she had learned quickly. "I am loyal to my beloved Joffrey."

"No doubt. As loyal as a deer surrounded by wolves."

"Lions," she whispered, without thinking. She glanced about nervously, but there was no one close enough to hear.

Lannister reached out and took her hand, and gave it a squeeze. "I am only a little lion, child, and I vow, I shall not savage you."

Of course, Sansa can't truly trust him and she thinks he's trying to trick her when he does validate her grief aloud, and it's understandable why she feels that way, and it becomes even worse once they’re forced into marriage together, and Tyrion understands this, too. He’s constantly self-flagellating about it. It’s hard to miss. (Unless of course you didn’t read Tyrion’s chapters, lol)

She was not eating, either. "Sansa, is aught amiss?" He spoke without thinking, and instantly felt the fool. All her kin are slaughtered and she's wed to me, and I wonder what's amiss.

But knowing that he can’t help her and that she’s not in a position to fulfill his own emotional needs doesn't stop him from wishing that he could get through to her because like, people have complicated emotions. But it’s always tinted with the knowledge that he can’t and that it would be unfair to her for him to expect it, not entitlement. Even in the context of the quote that begins this meta, his thoughts are more like a confused attempt to reach out to her which he also criticizes himself for, not an expectation. And disabled characters should be allowed to have complicated emotions especially when it comes to love and sex without fandom going "ew gross" or treating it as predatory.

People idealize other people all the time, and of course he does this with Sansa. He doesn’t know the real her and his attraction to her is much more about an ideal that she represents. But it’s a very human emotion and it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about her suffering, as is blatantly untrue in what is shown above, or that he “doesn’t see her as a real person.” He sees her as much as he can without actually being able to communicate with her. They don’t know each other, they’re not in a relationship, they’re married only in name and on opposite sides of a war. Still, he reaches out to her as a person and empathizes with her suffering long before the marriage and identifies with it in a very personal way (much like he does with Bran and Jon), divulging to Sansa information about his own history of abuse which he has rarely spoken aloud to any other character. He actually empathizes with her in much the same way that she does him, in a confused, terrified, vulnerable and detached sort of way, without actually being able to communicate or trust each other but feeling a deep pity for the other person and a sense of shared trauma.

Even without that, though, it’s not intrinsically wrong for a disabled person to think that a stranger is beautiful, even in a sad sort of way. Grief can be beautiful. Seeing people be vulnerable and wanting to comfort them can be incredibly attractive. It’s not like he’s saying he enjoys her suffering. And this fandom goes way off the deep end for some reason *cough* when it comes to disabled people just thinking about attraction.

#tyrion lannister #sansa stark #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf meta

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marybeatriceofmodena · 5 years

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TFW when you try to do Anastasia but you also suck at your job: A Master Class by The Rise of Skywalker

Okay. So, I promised you guys a TROS review, and it’s coming, I promise… except I’ll be making two “spin-off posts” about specific issues just in order to clear up some stuff, mainly because in my mind, those issues are important.

First post is going to be, of course, about Rey’s parentage.

So. After TFA, it would have been possible for Rey to have been the kid of “someone”. However, TLJ made it impossible to do so, unless you’d have some serious, bullshit retconning going on – which is exactly what happened.

I know this is a VERY controversial thing to say at this point, but post-TFA, Rey Palpatine “could” have been possible. Okay, maybe not have her be Palpatine’s granddaughter, but more of a descendant of his.

This said, I “tried” making an origin story for Rey Palpatine that “works” for the purposes of this meta, on a hypothetical basis, while making it consistent with canon (something JJ Abrams and Chris Terrio clearly couldn’t be bothered to do, LMAO). I had plotholes no matter what. I do think I could have eventually found something with a little bit of brainstorming, but truth is, IT’S HARD, and a lot of exposition would have been for novels/comics only.

From a thematic perspective, though? It wouldn’t have been a bad idea. For this to work, though, you would have needed to go on full-blown Romeo and Juliet mode with sprinkles of Anastasia, though. I mean, The Lion King 2 did something similar, so why the fuck not. Because, yeah, Ben Solo, the grandson of Darth Vader, son of Han Solo and Leia Organa, the last prince of Alderaan, who falls in love with the last Imperial princess Rey Palpatine while they’re on opposite sides of the war but not the ones you’d think of is the stuff of fairy tales and star-crossed romances, except this one would have a happy ending and brought peace to the galaxy.

Truth be told, I still really enjoy fanfics who go for that story and find a way to make it work in canonverse or in AUs – because it’s genuinely fun. But in canon itself, as I point out earlier… it’s not easy.

So, we have Rian Johnson who said he made a list of potential origins for Rey while he was working on TLJ’s script. You bet Rey Palpatine was on that list. However, he came to the conclusion that Rey Nobody was the best way to go, and whatdyaknow, he made the right call.

Why? Rey Nobody requires minimal exposition. Storytelling-wise, you don’t have a lot of brainstorming to do, and it’s easy to have Ben revealing it, and easy to present it as a repressed memory of Rey’s. On a thematic level, that puts Rey on the same level as Jane Eyre or the main character from Rebecca: she’s a nobody from nowhere who is thrown into a family drama, and since she’s the glitch in the matrix, she must stop the story from becoming a tragedy.

See? Simple. You got your easy exposition, you got your thematic coherence, and you got the literary call-backs.

So, JJ and Terrio decided to retcon this shit because, as they said, they thought it was boring. I think Colin Trevorrow probably thought it was boring too, because I have my reasons to think a lot of TROS is from him (but more on that in my main review). But thing is, it’s not it’s “boring”, it’s literally that they didn’t know what the fuck to do with Rey. No, more than that, they don’t understand her, and frankly, they can’t be bothered to do so. She’s an empty vessel they can toy with at their ease, and in the process, turn her in a Mary-Sue. Because yes, TROS!Rey was a Mary-Sue, whereas TFA/TLJ!Rey was not. So, what I say above regarding Rey might be a bomb for some, considering how people are (understandably) defensive when it comes to that statement. I promise I will elaborate more about it in the main review, once again.

So, with the lineage aspect addressed, it’s time to talk about Rey’s parents themselves.

It’s hilarious how HARD JJ and Terrio tried to make Kylo’s explanation work – because as much as they butchered the shit out of him, they said: “Well he’s a bad liar, right? Gotta keep that in mind.”

Although, I don’t think it was a case of them being concerned with Kylo’s characterization – they’re not that graceful. They had to figure out QUICK why the hell Kylo wouldn’t have known Rey was a Palpatine from the get-go, because the Force is a great DNA test and shit, and I guess that’s how Palps located Ben’s Mighty Skywalker Blood™. Except that still doesn’t work because Palps couldn’t even locate his own goddamn granddaughter, but I digress.

Seriously, why would Kylo lie to Rey about her being a nobody instead of her being a Palpatine? It makes no sense, because if you’re going to roll with the theory Kylo just wants UNLIMITED POWAH, the Palpatine princess is not only a great asset (since marrying her legitimizes your claim to the throne in the eyes of the Imperial Remnants, I mean, that’s literally why Henry VII married Elizabeth of York), it’s also the one argument she needs to hear in order to sway her to your side. So I guess JJ and Terrio’s one shared brain cell kinda flicked a bit at that moment.

This said, getting the Palpatine princess on his side is clearly Kylo’s intention in TROS (which, again, makes no sense with what was set up in TLJ but that’s something I’m keeping for another post), except they trip all over themselves by having Kylo say he didn’t lie to Rey in TLJ. Except…

So, what Ben said in TLJ was the following:

Her parents sold her for drinking money.

They’re dead and buried in a pauper’s grave somewhere on Jakku.

Rey is related to no one.

Here’s what Ben reveals to Rey in TROS:

Her parents sold her for her protection.

They died on another planet, while being hunted down by a guy working for Palpatine and instructed to bring Rey back to them.

Rey’s dad is a Palpatine and Rey’s mom is Villanelle (nah, for real: the actress who plays Rey’s mom is Jodie Comer).

So, um, yeah, it’s the EXACT opposite of what Ben said in TLJ. Just say Palps was fucking with Ben’s mind-reading or Rey’s memories instead, JJ. Not that “Oh Ben was telling the truth, but he didn’t have the whole story”, because that’s not it.

For the latter, once again, it would have been feasible: the one thing, for me, that was possible to be added was that Rey had killed her parents accidentally, by having their ship to leave Jakku crash down with the Force: that’s what made her Force powers go dormant for all those years and provoked her trauma. It would also make sense that Ben would willfully not bring that back to her memories, because she’d understandably not be able to cope with the truth, which is often what happens to a lot of trauma victims. THAT was the theory I had pre-TROS, because that’s the only answer I could come up with when it came to JJ saying that there was more to Rey’s past. I guess I expected JJ to be, like, actually able to write, lmao.

I even wonder if that was actually in the cards, considering we see Rey in TROS bringing down a transport that supposedly has Chewie in it… but I guess they deemed that to be “too dark” for their heroine. Except the bullshit that comes instead is actually… much worse.

To make things simple, I’ll just take the above points and develop them.

Rey’s parents sold her for her protection.

Okay, so, Rey’s parents need to hide her to make sure Palps doesn’t get his hands on her. Fair enough. This said, why did it have to be Jakku and not, like, ANYWHERE ELSE? Especially that Palpatine had interest in Jakku at some point and that maybe having Rey anywhere close to that place would not be a good idea?

But let’s play the game and say that Jakku is the only place they can hide her because… I don’t know, it’s hard to find someone there with the Force. Whatever. Even then, why the fuck would they think Unkar Plutt is a proper guardian for a tiny little girl? You know they could have walked a few miles more and found a nice old man who likes the Light Side of the Force and the Jedi and all that shit called Lor San Tekka? Hey, why not even try to find a guy like Luke Skywalker who’s like, a Jedi and shit, and have him take care of their little girl and protect her?

Even then, why the hell doesn’t Rey’s mom stay with her daughter? Her husband is the Palpatine, not her. All Rey’s mom has to do is find a nicer hiding place for her and Rey somewhere on Jakku, like, not Niima Outpost (again, Tuanul is just a few miles away), and just let Dad hide somewhere else. He’s a grownass man, he can take care of himself and he just has to hide on Nar Shaadaa or some shit. Fuck, why don’t all three of them hide on Nar Shaadaa? Or in the Coruscant undercity? ANYWHERE ELSE?

Also, wouldn’t Plutt clearly see two desperate parents as a business opportunity? Like, if you want to do a Les Misérables comparison here, he wouldn’t “buy” Rey from them, he’d try to get money for them à la Thénardier with Fantine. Except Rey’s parents make Fantine look like frigging Einstein because at least she had the excuse of thinking Madame Thénardier would take good care of Cosette since Éponine and Azelma seemed well-cared for.

Again, a creepy-looking alien who exploits the outpost’s inhabitants for portions in exchange for junk, who asks you to pay him to take care of your kid should be a big fucking red flag – unless you want to involve blackmail, but that’s a whole other can of worms.

Seriously, why the hell would Rey’s parents even ACCEPT money that comes from selling their own child? Were they really that desperate? Fuck, even if I had no other way of getting off Jakku, I wouldn’t even THINK of using money that comes from selling my own child. Any parent who’d even CONSIDER doing that is automatically a godawful parent in my book. Shame on you. And shame on JJ for trying to make me buy them as saints, because THEY’RE NOT, JUST BY THAT SINGLE ACTION.

They died on another planet, while being hunted down by a guy working for Palpatine and instructed to bring Rey back to them.

I didn’t notice it until Jenny Nicholson pointed it out in her TROS review, because it SOMEHOW completely escaped my notice, but… Rey’s mom saying Rey is DEFINITELY NOT on Jakku is like the worst fucking lie I’ve ever seen in a film because it’s so hilariously bad. Congratulations, Space Villanelle, may you be forever remembered for this line.

Also, it’s stupid af that Oshi (that’s his name, right? Can’t be bothered to Google it, might just call him Barney the Bounty Hunter from now on) just kills Rey’s parents, because HE’S EVUL MUAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA, because he literally creates a dead end for himself. He still has no fucking clue where Rey is, and he just killed off his only leads. CONGRATULATIONS BARNEY THE BOUNTY HUNTER, YOU SUCK AT YOUR JOB.

Rey’s dad is a Palpatine and Rey’s mom is Villanelle.

So, Rey’s dad looks like he’s in his early thirties at most, right? Maybe a little younger than Luke and Leia, then. So, unless he got frozen in carbonite at some point, that means Palpatine fucked at some point while looking like this:

Anyway, I sure hope Sly Moore was Grandma Palpatine because she’s pretty much the only person who’d be game to smash raisin ass. Which leaves me with extremely disturbing pictures of Palps and Sly having sex, so I’ll spare you the more graphic details of my twisted mind that’s screaming for an end to this misery.

I sure hope having Rey’s mom as Jodie Comer isn’t a clue that we’ll get spin-offs with those two (GOD PLEASE NO), but while I crack jokes about how Rey’s mom is Villanelle and Palpadad kinda looks like Ramsay Bolton… I find it fucking hilarious they dressed Rey’s mom in BLUE. LIKE, SEE? SEE? SHE’S IN BLUE, LIKE THE VIRGIN MARY, BECAUSE REY IS SPACE JESUS!!!! GET IT??? GETIT???? PLEASE TELL ME YA GET IT, OKAY???? *gross sobbing* I knew we should have had Rey born in a manger, that would have made the artistic intentions clear *wipes tear*

All right. There’s a lot more that could be said about Rey’s lineage, but I’m keeping that for my main review because what’s left to say ties up to the bigger picture. What I tried to point out with this preliminary post is that while Rey Palpatine *could* have worked, in different circumstances, it couldn’t have had post-TLJ… and we’re left to see a mutilated horse who was dead on arrival. And that’s tragic.

#star wars #tros spoilers #the rise of skywalker spoilers #rants and reviews #anti tros #rey #reylo #my meta #reylo meta #rey meta

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