#Billy at this point is like 11 but as long as they never connect his human form to all these other immortal ones he's not too bothered | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonbeambucky · 4 years

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Hey Neighbor (Part 12)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Billy Russo x Reader Word Count: 2731 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: I know some of you may not have been happy about what happened in the last chapter and I expect that not to change here 🙈🙈

PART 11 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

It feels a little intimidating to be walking into an unfamiliar place. You and Billy decided to meet at a restaurant somewhat in between your apartments, although the commute straight from the hospital made the distance a little bit farther.

Even worse you were running late thanks to a last minute case that needed your attention. Billy understood and you hoped he believed you when you said you were still on your way. You were nervous and excited at the same time, not having been on a date in… well, you really don’t want to think about exactly how long.

It’s pretty crowded, not that you expected anything less for a Friday evening. You scan through all the faces that seemed to blend together in the dim lighting against the wall as you look for Billy. The long bar near the entryway is much brighter, with lighted holiday garland still up surrounding the shelves of liquor.

At the end of the bar you spot him and Billy’s dark eyes illuminate the moment he sees you. He stands up to greet you as you approach, and you both do an awkward dance of wondering if you should hug each other or not. You went for it anyway, your heart beating a little faster as his arm wrapped around your back, squeezing you just a little.

“I’m glad you made it,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. The slight rasp in his soft voice made a tingle run down your spine in the best way.

Texting him had been a lot easier, when you only recalled his good looks by memory, without the pressure of staring back at his handsome face. Billy gently placed his hand against your back as he guided you towards the host. You were seated in the back, hopefully far enough away from the crowds huddled around the TV near the bar showing tonight’s basketball game.

Sitting across from Billy you couldn’t help but feel awkward under his focused gaze. Your cheeks began to heat up and you’ve never been more thankful for a server to appear. You ordered a drink, hoping it would arrive soon enough to help you over the hurdle of your awkwardness and shed the first date jitters.

A thunderous cheer from the bar startled you, making you cringe internally for nearly jumping in your seat but the sound of Billy’s sweet laughter eased your worries. Your minor embarrassment allowed for the conversation to flow freely, and over much better food than you expected this bar to have, you and Billy got to know each other better.

His company ANVIL provided private security and tactical training seminars. What stuck with you most was how all of his employees were veterans.

“It changes you.” He spoke about war, each word a poignant reminder that he too has battle scars, both visible and not. “A lot of us felt lost comin’ home. We can’t pretend we fit back into a world when the puzzle’s changed on us. This is my way of helpin’ my brothers find their place again.”

Sighing softly, it felt like your heart doubled in size as you listened to him, believing in all the good he was doing for those that needed purpose again. Your hand reached out across the table towards Billy’s, gently rubbing your thumb along his skin as your palm covered his knuckles. It made you second guess if his smooth skin is about grooming or if he’s erasing every hardened memory of his past, softening his skin to soothe the trauma of his mind.

You felt a connection with Billy because of this, finding commonality in your work. Even though ANVIL is in security, it still provides a therapeutic environment to its employees. You opened up to share your own background and why social work is so important to you.

“I have seven months to go until I graduate and I honestly can’t wait. It’s been such a long journey to get to this point but everything will be worth it. To be the person that can make a difference in someone’s life, to stand up for them, help and protect them; it really means so much to me.”

Billy is quiet for a moment, meditating on his thoughts. His mouth opens but he chooses not to speak, offering a gentle smile instead. There’s a silent understanding that he isn’t ready to continue talking. It’s a heavy subject and certainly not the best first date material, but somehow everything felt right.

He paid for everything despite your offering to split the bill, lacing his fingers with yours as he walked with you a few blocks to the subway station. Even though it was Friday, you were exhausted and really needed to go home and crash.

Under the glow of a street lamp you kissed Billy goodnight, feeling a rush of excitement warming your body as you craved more of the softness of his lips. His hand came against your cheek as he parted your lips with his tongue.

Your knees buckled under the caress of his tongue against yours and Billy felt the way your body wanted to melt against his. His hands wrapped around your waist as he continued to steal the breath from your lungs.

It may be cold outside but right now all you can feel is the heat simmering in your bones. The longer Billy kisses you the more you want to let him, your core aching with desire, begging you to take him home.

A soft bubble erupts in the back of your throat and you pull away breathless. Pressing your kiss swollen lips together you smile at Billy, seeing his pink dusted cheeks that could have been from the cold but the lustful gleam in his eyes say otherwise.

It’s very tempting to give in to what you want but common sense gets the win for the night. You part, promising to speak again tomorrow and honestly, you couldn’t wait.

“Earth to Y/N! Hello!” Wanda waved her hand in front of your face that had been glued to your phone all night, accompanied by the smile that would not fade.

“S-sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

Wanda huffed, rolling her eyes as she continued her conversation, asking everybody their opinions on her plans for Valentine’s Day with Sam.

“I think it’s a lovely idea,” Peggy replied, snuggling a little closer to Steve as she thought of the plans they’ll be sharing.

Natasha was quiet, taking a sip from her drink as she observed you curiously. You were trying desperately to not touch your phone, though your eyes couldn’t help but dart towards the screen that lit up every few minutes.

It was odd considering Bucky was seated beside you, his phone nowhere in sight as he propped his elbows against the table, hand curled lazily around his beer. She had caught a glimpse of your shared kiss on New Year’s Eve, pointing Clint in your direction as well so they could share in the satisfaction of being right.

From the moment you no longer wanted to kill Bucky they had been taking bets on how long it would take for you to hook up. Clint had bet by Halloween but Natasha knew it would take longer. Although now she’s unsure if she truly won the bet. You and Bucky kissed of course but nothing else suggests you had gone further; and by the ever growing smile on your face as you ignore everyone including Bucky, she has a strong suspicion of what may have derailed her chance of winning.

“Y/N, for Valentine’s Day do you have plans with your mystery texter?” Natasha asked, silencing the entire table.

A grin spread across her face as your eyes began to widen. You were caught. Not that you had done anything at all to hide it.

Wanda’s mouth fell open. “Could it be?!”

“Details, now!” Steve practically commanded. Feeling like the honorary older brother in your life he absolutely needed to know who was causing you to act as giddy as you were.

“Okay, okay!” you laughed, holding your palms up as if you were caught red handed. Trying to control your smile, you took a deep breath before telling everyone about how you met Billy. “We’ve gone out a few times and he’s really sweet. I can’t wait for you guys to meet him!”

While almost everyone said they couldn’t wait Natasha noticed the way Bucky turned a little paler, grumbling the words under his breath before he washed them away with a hefty swig. She cocked her eyebrow at Clint, sharing an unspoken look they would definitely be discussing when they were alone.

Your stomach was churning and not because of the bloody glimpse you passed in the ER during your hours at the hospital. Tonight the entire group was getting together and they were going to meet Billy.

The thought had you shaking though you’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Billy has been a total sweetheart and you’re certain your friends will like him. It had been a few weeks since you first met and you had kept your dates mostly secret, not wanting to tell anyone until you were sure this was something worth speaking about.

Most of the dates have been low-key, meeting up at The Grind House or grabbing a quick bite to eat after work. Both of your schedules were pretty busy and you didn’t envy the fact that Billy ran an entire company. Only once did he have to cancel at the last minute; things came up and you completely understood. What you did not expect was a beautiful bouquet of flowers delivered to you at the hospital as an apology.

As you were getting ready you got a text from Billy saying he would meet you at the bowling lounge you were all going to since he was still working and it would be faster to head there directly. This only added to your nerves, having to wait just a little longer before Billy met everyone as opposed to breaking the ice with Bucky, Natasha and Clint on the way there as you imagined.

The moment you were hoping he could bowl well was when you decided you needed to stop overthinking everything and relax. Your friends will like Billy regardless of little things; as long as he treated you well, and he did, was all that mattered.

The subway was crowded, with bodies cramped even closer together to avoid the spilled drink right in front of the door. You were pressed against Bucky’s chest which you didn’t mind at all considering it could have been worse given the other passengers surrounding you. He was on alert as a man got on the next stop, with foam nearly frozen down his mouth and chin, mumbling loudly as he paced back and forth through the spill.

Bucky shifted his position so you were mostly behind him, although he was still turned to the side to keep his eye out just in case. You appreciated the gesture, smiling softly in silent thanks, taking note of the bags under his eyes. He hadn’t mentioned the latest project he was working on but you assumed it’s something that’s kept him up.

The brisk air moves right through you as you ascend the steps to the street, walking quickly past the large scattering of tourists that lazily stop along 42nd Street to take pictures despite the freezing cold. Thankfully you only had a few blocks to walk.

Steve and Peggy were waiting inside the lobby, informing you Wanda and Sam should be there shortly. You saw the text she had sent to everyone, skimming over it to text Billy and let him know you arrived. The nerves came back in full force as you saw the three dots appear as he was typing.

What if he couldn’t make it? What if he had to stay late at work? What if he just didn’t want to see you? What if this was some elaborate joke and you were tricked into believing somebody could actually like you?

Worrisome thoughts ran through your mind until Billy’s response came through. There was some relief knowing he was two blocks away, but the nerves still stayed, hoping your friends would like him and do their best not to embarrass you.

“On your left,” a voice called out, and Steve turned around to see Sam, smiling beside a bundled up Wanda as they greeted each other. Apparently this was some inside joke no one else but them understood.

“When did it get so cold?” Wanda asked rhetorically, blowing out puffs of cold air as she loosened the scarf from around her neck. She greeted everyone, realizing all but one person was there. Just as she was going to ask about Billy he stepped through the door.

A wide smile spread across his face as he spotted you. His lean legs carried him towards you in long strides, cold lips and even colder skin pressing against your own as he greeted you with an affectionate kiss in front of your friends. Their middle school teasing of “oohs” broke the kiss, though your hand stayed cupped against his face, bringing warmth to his rose colored cheeks.

Bucky rolled his eyes at the display, a stranger in his mind, claiming his possession over you without a word spoken. Who does Billy think he is anyway? It’s practically below zero and he isn’t even wearing a hat. Pretty boy doesn’t want to ruin his hair, clearly. Bucky realized he was wearing his inner thoughts of disgust on his face, and quickly shook it off; yet the feeling of dislike for Billy hadn’t gone away as quickly.

Billy introduced himself to everyone as you stood beside him, unable to stop staring at how gorgeous he looked in a simple sweater and dark jeans. These were his colors, dark tones that matched his cavernous eyes, contrasting against the light skin of his perfect face.

From the corner of his eye Bucky couldn’t help but notice the way Billy’s hands were all over you, rubbing your back as you all waited for the employee to assign your lane, to the slip of his hand in the back pocket of your jeans.

His jaw clenched, anger rising in him for reasons he couldn’t quite understand but the moment he saw your face he let go of his tension with ease. You looked so happy, from the twinkle in your eyes to the smile you couldn’t contain. If you were happy Bucky was happy for you, even if he didn’t like it.

Two teams were chosen as you settled in to play, with Sam and Steve being the captains of each. Sam of course picked Wanda, along with Natasha and Clint while Steve chose Peggy first, with you, Billy and Bucky rounding out the rest of his team.

“I did it!” You jumped in surprise as you got a strike, by sheer luck since your first few turns made you wish the bumpers were inflated.

“That’s my girl,” Billy said smiling, cocking his head as he waited for you to come back to the bench.

Bucky was up next. Grabbing the swirly blue ball, he released it with a vigorous throw, not bothering at all to really aim. He took a few pins down, and waited for the ball to come back by the machine. Somehow throwing a heavy object at other objects made everything feel a little better but the sight of you making out with Billy crushed any attempts at his spirit feeling renewed.

During the games drinks and food were ordered and you were happy because it seemed like everyone was getting along with Billy. After two games Sam’s team ended up with the higher scores, and he absolutely rubbed it in Steve’s face.

“My shift is early tomorrow so I’m gonna head out,” Sam said, getting up from the table.

It wasn’t terribly late but considering how cold it was no one else really wanted to stay out to do anything. Bucky shrugged on his coat, watching Billy lean in to whisper something in your ear that made your lips pull into a smirk. As you said goodnight to everyone Bucky realized you wouldn’t be joining him, Natasha and Clint home.

PART 13

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #billy russo x reader

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ziracona · 3 years

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It’s my Birthday today and I wanted to start it off with updating a fic I’m enjoying writing. Hope you enjoy the read. : )

[Fate Grand Order AU fic] The Kid (pt: 1, ... 8, 9, 10, 11, ?)

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“Okay so, sorry, I’m still doing a little catch-up,” mutters Robin as we reach another corner and pause. Ahead, Emiya holds up a hand for us to halt and we do.

“Robin, do you have the mana for May King?” I hear Emiya’s voice in my head. Which, I appreciate being looped in on. Kind of thought he was going to be more of a pain to work with just because he could be, but he’s surprisingly practical and easy to work with for the uncooperative introduction we have. He seems real familiar with Robin’s abilities; gotta wonder where and when exactly they did meet—'specially since Robin barely seems to remember him at all.

Unlike me, poor Ritsuka looks like the frequent mental chatter is still something she’s trying to get used to; zones out a little every time someone communicates this way. I get it—took me a while to not be weirded out myself my first time summoned, and that was with the ability coming naturally, since I was a spirit.

“Hold that thought,” whispers Robin to me, then mentally to us all, “Yeah, a few times if it’s short. This important?”

“It’s not a difficult hall,” replies Emiya mentally, “But there’s too many people interacting with their security measures, and we haven’t gotten enough of us free yet. If we can’t disarm the magecraft security system and their personnel at once, someone might stay up just long enough to hit an alarm, and I’d prefer we free as many of us as possible before they figure out what we’re up to, since-“ He almost hesitates, glancing at Ritsuka for a split second, but he doesn’t. “-they might just start to kill them.”

Makes sense. I know it. They have catalysts to get us all back, and we have no idea where those are. I hate it, but he’s right—they’d definitely do it. Pretty sure I see Ritsuka connecting the same dots.

“Roger. I’ll move ahead into position,” says Robin mentally, cracking his neck as he moves up, “Give me about six seconds to find a good vantage point, then I’ll go as soon as I sense mana from you going after the security system.”

“Can we help?” asks Ritsuka worriedly in my head.

“If something goes wrong,” replies Robin telepathically, “Hopefully we won’t need it.” He stands then. “Sorry Mast—Ritsuka. I’m going to take a little bit out of you with this, but it’s only a skill, utilized this way, so it shouldn’t be too bad.” At my side, Robin glances down and gives a nod, then vanishes—not to spirit form, just flat out invisible. God it’s so cool! It always has been. Wish I could vanish like that; be useful as hell when dodging pursuers or trying to get an edge! Wish it was a thing he could teach me, but it don’t work like that—it’s a skill earned in life, and it’s all the thief of the forest’s.

Ahead, Ritsuka’s eyes widen as she watches him vanish, but she follows where I think he might be—she’s connected more than we are to each other, so she probably has a better idea than I do. Honest, it’s weird to have a guess where he is at all; I...don’t think I’ve ever been co-servant to someone before. It’s different, but, I like it. I like having a team. I mean, I’ve had allies before, but this ain’t the same. I can sense Robin a little myself like this, but I gotta wonder just how different it feels to be a master.

Emiya places his hand against the wall and whispers somethin’, and I feel a pulse of mana from him and hear the sudden ‘flishk’ of drawn bow strings releasing and movement, plus one choked, barely audible cry, then several quiet thuds all in rapid succession.

“Clear,” comes Robin’s voice in our heads.

Emiya smiles and steps out, Ritsuka and me behind him, and Robin materializes ahead of us between five guards sprawled unconscious along the ground. Kinda amazed how well we’re doing so far—damn it I’m gonna jinx us, but still! Non-lethal is way harder, and we’re still doing ok.

Looking amazed by the scene, Ritsuka rushes up to Robin. “Wow, that was incredible!” she whispers excitedly, “How do you do that? —How did you know he could do that?” she adds, turning big eyed to Emiya.

Robin and Emiya share a glance, slightly awkward. Huh, don’t seem like Emiya knows him too well, from the way he’s lookin’ at him; which makes it weirder he knows so much about his skills. Maybe…they fought? They don’t seem hostile to each other at all, but somethin’ like a Holy Grail War, where mages force you to kill each other, God knows I’ve fought my share of people I had no desire to kill and who really had no desire to kill me either. I could see it bein’ somethin’ like that. …Maybe?

“It’s uh, an inherited custom from the Celts,” says Robin, “I picked up some tricks, when I was on the run so much, and I guess it was pretty good, because as a servant, it lets me do that.”

Ritsuka looks at Emiya for his half of an answer.

“...We’ve met,” offers Emiya vaguely.

“Oh,” says Ritsuka in surprise, “So. You and Billy and Robin-?”

“—No, we never met,” I interject, gesturing between me and Emiya.

“Okay, so, different times?” checks Ritsuka, “When-”

“-I don’t mean to be rude,” says Emiya gently, “But we don’t really have time to discuss this.” He gestures to the waiting door and Ritsuka flushes.

“R-right—I’m sorry—it’s just interesting how you all meet and I want to know more—“

“-Hey, don’t worry kid,” says Robin, clapping her on the back, ��I’ll tell you anything you want to know later. To answer your question,” he adds casually, moving to the door and drawing back a leg to kick, “I’m not sure about him, but I don’t remember.” With one solid slam from his foot, Robin snaps through the remaining physical lock on the door so it slides open, and in the one second before I’m distracted by what’s inside, I notice Emiya raise an eyebrow. Huh. So you do remember.

I get a glimpse into the room ahead then, and every thought goes out of my head. Except ‘The...hell?’

It’s different. It’s so different. I know it’s only been me and Robin so far, but it’s not the death bed with a withered corpse I expected at all. The spirit in this room is very much alive, and it is furious.

The cell is circular, with more seals carved into and drawn on the floor and walls and ceiling than I can process, and the spirit is dead center of them all, with heavy, bulky, painful looking restraints locked around his feet and forearms, another thick band around his waist and more on his thighs, his neck, his upper arms, each attached to a different heavy chain drawn taut, tugging in opposite directions of each other and making it as close as it can to impossible for him to move at all. He’s got a blindfold on too, also metal and painful looking, and a gag, but he’s not kneeling under the weight of it all like I was, or immobile and weak like Robin; he’s thrashing madly with the tiny, limited movement he has. His head snaps in our direction when we enter, and I hear his muffled, angry shouts even from here. He’s choking himself and ripping at the skin on his arms and legs and neck, but still, he’s fighting—and wildly. In fact, I’m pretty sure the seals around the room are the only thing keeping him captive at all.

It hurts to watch, seeing one of us rip blindly at his restraints, trying to break free like a dog being forced into in a fighting ring. But, I’m also impressed. Astounded. He doesn’t seem scared at all, just angry, and there’s something reassuring about it. ‘Specially since he’s short too.

“Huh,” says Emiya, the same look on his face I figure is on mine, and is definitely on Ritsuka. She snaps out of it first though, and starts to rush toward the blinded spirit, then hesitates because we’ve all balked too.

“...Can’t one of you break the locks? Like for Robin?” asks Ritsuka worriedly, half-turning to face us.

“Probably, but we don’t know what happens if we step in the circle,” explains Emiya, indicating the etchings above, below, and all around us.

“Yeah, I don’t speak mage runes, but I’m pretty sure that says some version of ‘if you’re a heroic spirit, get fucked,‘ ’cause I can feel that from here. —I got you though,” I add quickly, “move a little left and I’ll shoot one from here.” Thank God for long ranged skills! Both of the others seem chagrined I’m the first to think of this; can’t decide if I should be proud, or insulted by that.

Ritsuka hops to the side, and I aim, but I hesitate again with my gun drawn. The man in front of me is blinded and I don’t think he can hear well, because he ain’t reacted to anything we’ve said—only our presence—and he’s flipped out. If I free him, he might lash out, and Ritsuka is closer than we are. I’d rush in, of course, but I have no idea if stepping in that circle would paralyze me.

“Hey Boss—Partner?” I correct, lowering my gun just a little, “I don’t think he can hear well with that thing on his head. He’s panicked and angry—might be a bad idea to cut him loose without explaining who we are. Even if he don’t attack us, he’s probably gonna make a lot of noise, and we don’t need that.”

“Oh,” says Ritsuka, looking from him to me. Ahead, the spirit lunges in our direction with a fury I understand and makes me pretty sure I’m right that he has no idea who we are.

“Think you can calm him down? I could shout from here, but we don’t wanna he heard, and you probably got a better shot anyway. Not sure how much he can hear, but he’s gotta be able to hear a little, since he seems to know where we are without his eyes. Try talking to him—let him know we’re here to help ‘fore I break him free?” I suggest.

“Uhm,” she says, looking from him to me, “I’ll try.”

I feel bad immediately, seeing the moment of fear in her before she moves forward, so I take another step, close as I can get without hitting the circle, and call after her, “Don’t worry! Promise; he makes a move to hurt you, I’ll stop him before he even gets close; easy shot from here, ‘n I’m a crack shot—I won’t miss. ‘N don’t worry—won’t hurt him too much, either,” I add with a wink.

She glances back and smiles at me, worry mostly evaporated, and I grin back.

“Okay,” she whispers to herself, and then she turns to the bound figure up ahead.

He hears her coming, and there’s a muffled scream of rage from him as he tears at the chains holding him back. We’re not any of us an easy thing to contain, and I can sense how much he knows it, how furious and how ready to make whoever did this pay.

Beside me, I sense movement and out of the corner of my eyes, and I make out Robin and Emiya both moving, Emiya first, materializing a bow and readying a shot like I am, Robin doing the same with an arrow on his crossbow, but pivoting to keep an eye behind us, on the hall. Bases covered.

Carefully, Ritsuka takes another step, edging closer. About fifteen feet from him now in the big room. He definitely knows where she is—even blindfolded, his head moves with her and he thrashes in her direction as threateningly as he can like he is. The restraints on his legs and arms are bulky, so I can’t see his hands or feet, but the places they end on his forearms and calves are bleeding from his attempts to rip free.

“I-it’s okay,” says Ritsuka, taking another careful step over one of the taut chains, and putting her hands up calming and nonthreateningly as she proceeds moving closer. He can’t see her, but of course she still is. “It’s alright. We a-”

The spirit uses his neck to rip the chain around it back with all his might, and I realize almost too late it’s the one she’s just now carefully stepping over.

I can’t think of a way to stop it long-distance, so I bolt. The second my foot goes over the first seal though, I feel an intense amount of mana hit me, and I knew it was coming, but it’s SO much worse than I expect, and I can’t move. It’s so much. It’s agonizing, like being hit with a bolt of lightning! The hell kind of seal-! Fuck! I—can move, damn it! I will!

I can! I can. I just... It takes immense effort, but I feel my muscles starting to move. I’m gonna be way too late—I should—

Arm throbbing with pain, I drag my hand up to level a shot as the chain snaps into her leg and she yelps and pivots forward. If he has a real plan and some way to grab her, least I can shoot him first, but something closes around the back of my vest and I’m flung backwards with force onto the safe ground outside.

“Idiot!” calls Emiya irritated over his shoulder, “You don’t have the magic resistance of an Archer! Stay out there!”

He’s...right, but. Even Robin and he shouldn’t...?

How is he doing that?

It’s been less than two seconds and he’s already there. He barely even lost steam throwing me. I-I am watching him shoot to her side with such speed I could almost swear he teleported, through a bounded field. He catches Ritsuka like it’s nothing while she’s still in the air, and rights her as she yelps in surprise, then jumps and flings himself back out of range of the circle, landing just outside it far on the right side with a little wince and a grimace. I gape at him from on the ground. It did hurt then, doing that. The field—It did hit him. He just...got through? The hell kind of magic resistance you got? I know Archer’s a knight class and that gets you some, but...

This is something else. I don’t know what. I-I didn’t think any of us could move in there, once I felt it; that can’t just be magic resistance can it? But it’s something. I want to ask, but I know it’s not the time. He glances at me though, after making sure Ritsuka is fine and giving her a nod when she checks over his should to see if everything is okay and she should keep going, and I realize to my surprise I’m pretty sure he’s doing the same with me—checking in to see I’m okay. I manage a nod as well.

“You okay?” asks Robin from behind me.

“Yeah,” I answer. My gun’s been leveled the whole time, but I’m only now remembering to get to my feet again, and do, eyes on the chained spirit the whole time, “Those things always sting, but it ain’t as bad as some other recent memories.”

I kind of expect Robin to say something back, but he doesn’t, so I turn 100% of my attention to the people in the middle of the room.

“It’s okay!” tries Ritsuka again, facing the bound spirit but hesitating to move forward out there now, “Please stop fighting us! I’m not an enemy; we’re trying to help you, I swear!”

I don’t feel a change in the atmosphere at all—the spirit is still radiating anger—but he stops tearing at his bindings for a moment when she speaks and just stands there breathing hard, blindfolded eyes turned towards her and blood running down his neck and limbs.

“Thank you,” says Ritsuka, smiling and holding up a hand in thanks with the word even though he can’t see it, before moving forward again, “If you just listen, I-I can explain—I promise, we’re not here to hurt you. We aren’t with the people who locked you up. We broke in here to try and help. Everyone but me in here is another heroic spirit, and we’re all trying to help you—help all the spirits trapped in here!”

The man stays still and tilts his head slowly, considering her. Mistrustful, I think, like I was. But he’s hopeful, or desperate, too—not sure why they’d send her to lie, which is enough to make you hope.

“I-I’m gonna get a little closer now, okay?” says Ritsuka, edging towards him again, “And see if I can get any of those chains off you. The others can probably do it if I can’t, but they’re all spirits so they’re having a hard time getting past the uh—the seals.”

He tilts his head back upright and then the other way, and tracks her movement by sound as she gets closer. The guy is still breathing heavy and clearly on edge, but he lets her get close this time.

When she reaches him, Ritsuka holds her hand up. I don’t think he’s going to lash out, but I don’t trust like that—‘specially knowing the pressure he’s under firsthand—and so I keep my gun trained on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay? To see if I can figure out how this is fastened. P-Please don’t hit me.”

She stutters nervously on that last line, and I see just a little of the tension in the man’s shoulders loosen. Interesting. I guess that means whoever he is, he ain’t the most hardened sort, if he’s feelin’ empathy for a stranger while trapped like that.

Ritsuka moves a little to the side for a better look and touches the back of the shackle blinding him, and he flinches and pulls away a half-inch on impulse, breathing quickening for a second, then goes still again. This must be agonizing for him.

“Really is okay!” I call out in a hushed voice, even though like that he probably can’t hear me. I can’t risk drawing security, but-

Emiya side-eyes me for a second. I can’t tell if the look is annoyed or amused. Guess it don’t matter.

“Okay—it’s pretty simple. Just a little bolt again,” says Ritsuka in relief. I hear a metallic ‘click’ and then she’s pulling the metal blindfold off him, and there’s a fairly young man—maybe early 30s at a guess—looking back at her then. He’s not very bulky, and taller than me, but not tall, kinda long and shaggy green hair, and a face I don’t recognize at all with red marks all over it where the metal bit in, a few little trickles of blood runnin’ down his forehead and cheekbones from it. The most notable thing though is the expression on his face. He registers Ritsuka’s form as she lowers the blindfold and his eyes go wide. The man blinks at her a few times, then quickly looks up, clocks me and Robin and Emiya, seems relieved, and looks back questioningly at Ritsuka. Almost all of his readiness to lash out has vanished in an instant.

“Hi,” says Ritsuka, smiling at him, “I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru. Nice to meet you. Thank you for not hitting me.”

The man blinks again, and gives her a little nod. I see more of his tension ease.

“I’m really sorry this happened to you. We’re here to help—those two were stuck here too.” She pauses to point to me and Robin, and I give him a little hat tip, Robin a two-fingered wave in acknowledgement.

Our Master—I mean partner—friend? —Ritsuka, she looks down at some of the other oddly bulky shackles, and then back up at the now much more calmly waiting man. I’m trying to guess who he could be. We had letter, earring, kunai, and a pot, according to her, ‘long with my and Robin’s catalysts. He’s definitely not Asian—looks maybe...middle eastern, Semitic? Not sure though. Either way, I’m willing to bet he’s not the kunai, so that leaves broken pot, earring, and letter. None of which help much. I don’t have a good guess, and that’s only if they haven’t gotten more since Ritsuka saw catalysts anyway, but, whoever he is, he seems level-headed and decent at least, so I’m takin’ this all so far as a good sign.

“The ones on your arms and legs have real locks, so I’m not sure I can get them—I’ll have to have one of the guys shoot them off from outside the circle,” says Ritsuka, looking sorry.

I look at Robin and Emiya, because what I got’s loud; the two of them exchange looks, and Emiya sighs and turns to study the chains for a second, then summons a long, thin…arrow? and draws.

“But let me get the gag first—I think I can get that too,” says Ritsuka smiling at the man as she reaches up to do it. Much less on his guard now, he stoops for her to make it easier to reach, still watching her carefully though. Or, actually, interested more than careful, maybe, at second glance. Huh. Very level-headed man.

The gag makes a snap sound, and Ritsuka pulls it off. Relieved, the man opens his mouth and kind of rolls his jaw, trying to get the taste of it out, then straightens back up and smiles at Ritsuka. “Well thank you very much, for that and the rescue.”

Unbelievably calm. But I don’t think he’s being fake—he’s just got some kinda personality.

“Where did you come from, Miss...Fujimaru, yes?” he asks, and she nods, “How did someone as young as you end up-” he tries to gesture, immediately hits already taut chain, and winces, “-here?”

“Wrong, or, right, depending on how you look at it, place at the right time,” answers Ritsuka.

He’s definitely curious, but he just gives a nod of acknowledgement.

“Oh—before you do that,” she says to Emiya, then turns back to the man, “Uhm, you’re probably connected to the building somehow, and if we break those, you’ll run out of mana. Or. You aren’t actually that hurt,” she adds like she’s only just now really thinking about it, “But you’ll still vanish pretty fast if we sever your connection to mana, won’t you?”

“Yes and no,” says the man, clearly surprised by how much she has figured out, “You’re right they somehow altered the contracts to let the technology itself provide us with mana, and we can break the contracts physically, like you would killing a Master, by breaking the machine.”

“Why?” she asks, lost.

“They want to sell us. This makes us easily transportable, and it’s not like a mage could support one of us alone outside a ritual easily anyway,” says the man, a bit of that earlier rage and spite sinking back into his tone. He refocuses on Ritsuka and smiles again. “But I’m an Archer, so I can survive for a little bit on my own—week or two—without an anchor, since I’m not in terrible shape.”

“Another fucking Archer?” asks Robin without thinking, almost affronted disbelief in his voice and his face when I turn to look and see him gaping.

Wait.

“Oh shit, he’s right! Did they only take Archers? Why??” I ask.

“That is almost upsetting somehow,” says Emiya thoughtfully, “They didn’t summon me, but two and a half out of six of you so far is still super weird.”

“You’d think we’d be less good picks, since we can survive so long on our own. They should be grabin’ Casters or somethin’,” I agree in confusion.

“Wait, all three of you are Archers?” asks the man.

“I’m a gunner,” I say like ‘kind of’ while Robin says “Yeah,” with irritation and Emiya says, “I guess.”

“That is weird,” says the man to Ritsuka, “but I don’t think we have time to discuss it. Their security might not be perfect, but they aren’t idiots.”

She nods. “Uhm, okay. Well, in that case, I guess you don’t need to contract right now to be okay, but if you’d like to—to help you fight better or without worrying about disappearing, you can contract with me—if you want.”

His expression is one of a man hearing something that made complete sense until suddenly it made absolutely none at all. “...C. ...You? But.” He looks over at the rest of us, then back at her, “are none of the others...? -You know, outside a ritual, even a strong mage will be exhausted by that?”

“Oh, I know,” says Ritsuka quickly, nodding, “I’m not good at magic yet, and can’t do almost any spells, but my circuits are weird and apparently I have such a massive pool of mana I can support multiple heroic spirits on my own without a grail or anything!”

He stares at her like that straight up can’t compute. Blinks slowly. Looks at us.

“Yeah,” I say. She looks so proud of herself. It makes me happy! And weirdly proud too.

“It’s true,” agrees Robin, “Got no idea how many she can carry, but we’re three so far, and she hasn’t slowed down a bit.”

“Wow,” says the man, looking back at her with big eyes, “That’s quite a skill.” He considers for a moment and then smiles to himself. “Todah,” he says quietly, almost fondly, and then, “What a blessing; God never ceases to surprise. I will happily take you up on your offer Ba’al, I accept.” He gives a little, awkward and slightly painful looking bow as best he can still bound. “My true name is David, and I am an Archer. Pleased to meet you.”

“Oh,” says Ritsuka, surprised and flattered. She flushes and holds out a hand, then realizes he can’t take one the way it is. He smiles at her and bows his head forward instead, resting it against her outstretched fingers. “Uhm.” She takes a second to find her footing. “My soul becomes your will, your spirit becomes my destiny. If you hear me and agree, accept me and join, Archer.”

It’s softer than I’ve heard her say it before. Funny how many ways I’ve heard it now. Desperate, to me, afraid of losing me. Intense and pleading, to Emiya, begging for help. Kind and intent and sincere to Robin. And now here, soft and happy. I got no idea why that’s all so significant to me, but it is. I feel like I’m gonna remember it. I hope I will.

…I…

….Haven’t thought about that for a while, but now that the thought’s there, my gut sinks and my heart with it.

I might not. …So often, the Throne won’t let us remember anything from a summon once we die and get dragged back to it. God only knows how many Ritsukas I didn’t want to forget as bad as I don’t wanna forget this now, and don’t even get to know to be sad I can’t remember.

I hate that thought. ...

In the center of the room, a light flashes from Ritsuka’s hand at the point of connection, and I can feel a faint attachment of my own to David now. Try to focus on that instead. On how odd it feels to be under the same master as someone else, but not bad—just so different, in a way it’s hard to really get over.

David, he said? Right—which David? WAIT.

“David?” I ask way too fast, interrupting this beautiful moment without thinking, my mind completely blank outside of one sudden fear, “Wait, which David who’s an Archer—you’re not-?”

He looks over surprised and then gives me a kind of sheepish smile. “King David of Israel. Son of Jesse and Nitzevet, father of Solomon, my successor.”

Oh my God. Oh God; fuck—I’m so glad I didn’t shoot him.

Emiya is taking this in stride, but Robin looks at least a little something, and Ritsuka’s eyes have gone huge. “You’re a king? Wait. You’re from. -” She’s floundering, so I step in to save her.

“-King David? I—Hi, Billy the Kid; I’m so honored to meet you! I never met a Biblical-uhh-T-Torah-ical,” shit now I’m floundering worse god damn it; I was trying I—I just never seen someone from the...th-the actual religion that—I practice, before—I.

Totally nonplussed, King David shakes his head dismissively with a smile. “I know what you mean; pleased to meet you all. Please though, just call me David. My days as a King are long past, and on the Throne, I have been called to serve others again. I was a shepherd before I was a king, and I have always been the both. Think of me as just another companion, because right now, it’s who I am.”

“Whoa,” says Ritsuka, still a little pale and in awe, “Th-thank you. Okay, David. I-It’s great to meet you too. —I’m so sorry! What am I doing?! -Emiya, can you?” She glances over and sees his bow drawn, nods, and hops out of his way.

King David glances at Emiya, then holds perfectly still, and the archer draws a quick series of shots that tear through the restraints nearly simultaneously in a little shower of sparks and screeching metal. Some kinda style; don’t think I’ve ever seen someone shoot what was clearly swords just now off a bow string before. Huh. Who are you?

The chains fall away, and King David raises his arms and looks at his hands, flexes them, and takes in the bruising and lacerations on his body from trying to get free.

“I’ll try to heal you,” offers Ritsuka, stepping up to him. He glances over at her. “I’m still learning, so I’m not sure I can fix it all, but I’m sure I can help!”

He smiles and gives a nod, stoops a little and offers her his arms. She takes them in her hands, scrunches her face up and shuts her eyes, and I sense a quick, small pulse of mana. It’s amazing how much she picked up in one night. I’m kinda in awe, watchin’ the worst bruises fade, and the cuts that are still bleeding close up and start to heal. It ain’t perfect, like me, like Robin, but it’s a hell of a lot, and King David looks pleased and maybe a little impressed himself.

“Thank you, Ba’al,” says King David, “I’m good to go now.”

Ritsuka opens her eyes and beams at him. She’s sweating a little again from the effort, but it ain’t bad. She’s holdin’ up like a champ so far. “Great!” she says, “Let’s get moving, then!” She takes a step and spins right back around back to face King David. “—Oh. Can you walk out okay? Do I need to carry you?”

Kind David looks incredibly tickled by that offer, but he shakes his head. “I’ve got extremely good magic resistance, even for an Archer—I’d love to get out of this seal now though—it’s quite agonizing.” Without extra comment, he slides his hands under her armpits and lifts her up, then speed single-hops right out of the seal, like Emiya did, and sets her down gently.

“Oh—uh—thanks,” says Ritsuka, surprised but not bothered, “okay—sorry for taking so long,” she adds to us three, “Let’s get to the next one!”

Emiya gives a nod and moves to take point again, motioning us after.

“Question,” says Robin quietly as we slide out into the hall, watching King David’s surprised and little else expression as he takes in the unconscious guards, “I’m uh, really glad for you that you weren’t on death’s door like us—don’t get me wrong—but I thought that was their whole thing. Why were you just kind of...imprisoned? It’s a weird break of form. Might be significant.”

“Oh, that,” says David, “it is a break of form, but it’s not very significant, except I guess as proof they’re not exactly the most seasoned of field mages, no matter how much money, staff, and technical skill they have. They didn’t know which King they were going to get, summoning me. Just the general power of the catalyst—guess they got it not very legally, even for a catalyst. And unfortunately for them, I’m not a great candidate for death-battery-whatever they’re doing, because I died peacefully in my sleep as an old man.”

“The dream,” I say just loud enough for only Robin next to me to hear, and he shoots me a barely restrained smile.

“So then,” continues Robin, “Why keep you? Dangerous to leave one of us alive and motivated to rip shit apart.”

“Mmm,” agrees King David with a nod, “But they weren’t going to keep me. They were going to sell me, contract and all, to the highest bidder. Contacted a lot of mage groups.”

Ritsuka looks so horrified hearing that. It’s sweet, and a little sad, because Robin and I aren’t even surprised by it. It’s not really even odd; it makes sense. That’s how mages act, and that’s how we get treated.

“Any idea who or what for?” asks Robin.

“Hey,” comes Emiya’s voice in our heads, “Uh ahead. Sensing a containment field like the rest, but no guards at all this time.”

“That’s...weird,” says Ritsuka back mentally. She keeps closing her eyes to talk in her head when she starts, and it’s endearingly funny to watch. “I mean...I don’t want to jinx us, but hasn’t this all been...too easy? When I got Billy out, I had a huge explosion and the element of surprise, and no tripped alarms and a working pass, and I still barely got out. Here they’re already on high alert, and we’ve freed three heroic spirits now, and they’re not guarding the rest or checking their rooms?”

Huh. I mean, I’m not as familiar as she is with building security, but she’s right that they’ve been...weirdly placed.

“Yes,” agrees Emiya, tone firm, “it is strange. There are a lot of armed people here, and security, but even with all the luck in the world, it’s almost unbelievable they haven’t pinpointed us yet, and we haven’t hit more security. It’s like...”

“...A trap?” I ask nervously.

“...No,” says Emiya out loud as we all reach a corner and pause together, “It’s like someone’s helping us.”

“What?” says Ritsuka, taken aback.

“There’s too many people weirdly scattered for it to feel like a trap,” says Emiya, “It’s more like watching moves on a shogi board where someone is trying very hard to make sure they lose. The pieces are all here, they just keep...being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or, sure not being in the right one anyway.”

“Nobody helped you before, right?” I ask.

Ritsuka shakes her head.

Considering, King David tilts his head and lets out low ‘hmmmm,’ then says, “…There are people here right now, for me.”

“Hm?” says Robin.

“Other mage groups—their representatives. Rivals, some of them. To bid. It’s possible, not sure, but, someone might be grabbing this opportunity for a little self-serving corporate espionage.”

“God willing,” says Robin, cracking his neck again, “Love it if some selfish spineless little prick picked now to do something that helps us. Enemy of my enemy, and all.”

“That seems plausible, but since we can’t be sure, I know there’s no point saying ‘stay alert’ when we all already are, but, be ready for something to go wrong. It might,” says Emiya, and then he grimaces like ‘maybe shouldn’t have said that,’ looks at Ritsuka, and says, “it also might not. Just pays to prepare.”

She nods, and we all turn to face the hall. Emiya places his hand on the wall again and I feel a faint pulse of mana from him.

“Yup, definitely a servant up ahead. One floor up, almost directly above us. ‘Bout one room further,” says Emiya, pointing, “We can take the elevator shaft—probably less likely to draw attention than destroying the floor, and if we do have someone helping us with some corporate espionage or just a really incompetent new security staff, let’s not make it hard on them to keep going.”

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pappydaddy · 3 years

Text

Folklore/Evermore Collection

THIS MASTERLIST HAS BEEN MOVED! IF YOU HAVE THIS SAVED IN YOUR LIKES, JUST KNOW THIS WILL NOT BE UPDATE WITH NEW WORKS! THIS IS THE NEW MASTERLIST FOR THIS COLLECTION!

These will not be published in this order

Just like these albums, some stories are connected, continuations, some being the same story told from different perspectives.

*I will be working on these while still working on requests!

Requests are still closed!

Currently in progress: All Harry Potter fics

Next to be in progress: Stranger Things

Posted: ivy + betty + august + tolerate it + evermore + invisible string

Published (December 11, 2020)

Updated (August 29, 2021)

Folklore

the 1 - Steve Harrington x fem!reader - Coming soon

She thought they were something with the flirtatious exchanges. She was sure that he liked her too until he left her heart bleeding in her hands.

cardigan - Draco Malfoy x fem!reader - Coming soon

They knew each other like nobody else did, they made each other feel wanted. Now they were like strangers and she was left cursing his name.

the last great american dynasty - Simon Kalivoda x fem!reader - Coming soon

After the love of her life is murdered, Y/N lives a glorious party filled life, but everyone else is left wondering what would have come of her if she hadn’t lost herself.

exile - Liam Dunbar x fem!reader - Coming soon

After their break-up Liam and Y/N need to be faced with moving on while seeing each other all the time.

my tears ricochet - Draco Malfoy x sister!reader/Neville Longbottom x fem!reader (briefly mentioned) - Coming soon

She knew her parents would disown her for being sorted in Gryffindor and dating a blood-traitor whose parent’s happened to have fought against them, but she never thought her brother would too.

mirrorball - Tom Riddle x fem!reader - Coming soon

Reader knows that her relationship with Tom is coming to an end, she feels him slipping away, but she tries to do everything to please him and amusement in an attempt to stop him from slipping from her fingers.

seven - Draco Malfoy x fem!reader - Coming soon

Draco and Y/N have been friends from childhood, having grown up right next to the Malfoy’s. Y/N knows that Draco’s parents don’t treat him right, and she finds herself falling apart from not being able to help him while being his beacon of hope.

august - Fred Weasley x fem!reader/Fred Weasley x Mallory (OC)- POSTED!

Please read betty | part two first before this one!

Told from Mallory’s point of view (from betty). Mallory is in love with Fred, but he’s in love with Y/N. Mallory jumps on any chance that she can imagine that he was hers.

this is me trying - Steve Harrington x fem!reader/Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler - Coming soon

Steve wonders if he made the right decision by picking Nancy over Y/N as he tries to make his relationship with Nancy work. Continuation of the 1.

illicit affairs - Steve Harrington x fem!reader/Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler - Coming soon

Steve and Y/N must deal with their decisions, but an implosion is inevitable. Continuation of the 1.

invisible string - George Weasley x fem!reader - POSTED!

George and Y/N would always pop up in each other’s lives during their time at Hogwarts. It wasn’t until two years after the Twins left Hogwarts that they bumped into each other again, but this time, they figured out why they couldn't get rid of each other.

mad woman - Tom Riddle x fem!reader - Coming soon

After Tom cheats on Y/N, he continues to pour gasoline onto the fire by pinning her as ‘mad’.

epiphany - Harry Potter Universe x fem!reader - Coming soon

Y/N sees horrible things while fighting in the frontlines of the Second World war and even suffers herself.

betty | part two - Fred Weasley x fem!reader - POSTED!

Fred has a new female friend. Y/N starts to notice just how close they are and it sets alarms off for her.

peace - Neville x Malfoy!fem!reader - Coming soon

Y/N worries that Neville will break up with her because she cannot give him the peaceful relationship he deserves since her family wants to tear them apart. Continuation from this is me trying.

hoax - Tom Riddle x fem!reader - Coming soon

Y/N can’t let go of Tom after she broke up with him, thinking that she would be better off with him despite him being horrible to her.

Evermore

willow - George Weasley x fem!Reader - Coming Soon

He didn’t mean to fall for Y/N, but once he had her in his sights, he come into her world like a cyclone. Y/N never wanted to fall for him either, but he eventually knocked down her walls.

champagne problems - Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader - Coming soon

Y/N deals with the fall out of leaving her arranged engagement with Draco and it starts to look like he might not have felt the same about the arrangement as she did.

gold rush - George Weasley x fem!slytherin!reader - Coming soon

Y/N doesn’t like being close to people and letting them in, but George Weasley managed to wiggle his way past her walls. He helps her learn to trust, she helps him realize that maybe not all Slytherins are the same.

tis the damn season - Stiles Stilinksi x fem!reader - Coming soon

Y/N is back in Beacon Hills for the holidays and she’s forced to face the people she left behind, including her ex-love, Stiles. An argument ensues and Stiles realizes something.

tolerate it - Percy Weasley x fem!reader - POSTED!

Percy’s become more uptight since starting with the ministry and Y/N starts to think he’s just tolerating her.

*no second war AU where Voldemort was killed by baby Harry*

no body, no crime - JJ Maybank x fem!reader - Coming soon

JJ and Y/N notice something is off about how her kook step-father is treating her mother. When her mother suddenly goes missing, things start to become fishy.

happiness - Isaac Lahey x fem!reader - Coming soon

Y/N and Isaac fall out of love, their relationship exploding in front of their faces. Follows their implosion and the after-math.

dorothea - Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader - Coming soon

Part of the story from tis the damn season, Stiles is still hung up on his ex-girlfriend despite that she’s so far away. He can’t help but wonder about her.

coney island - Stilies Stilinski x fem!reader - Coming soon

After seeing each other at Christmas, Stiles and Y/N can’t get each other off their minds. Y/N questions if she should have left him. An emergency brings Y/N back to Beacon Hills and revelations are made.

ivy - Draco Malfoy x fem!reader/Fred Weasley x fem!reader - POSTED!

Y/N is a pureblood forced into an arranged marriage with Draco Malfoy, but she couldn’t let Fred Weasley wiggle his way into her heart.

cowboy like me - JJ Maybank x fem!reader - Coming soon

At the first meeting, Y/N thought that she wasn’t going to fall for JJ. But as she slowly got to know him, the similarities between them jumped out at her.

long story short - Billy Hargrove x fem!reader - Coming soon

Billy and Y/N always had a spark, but she was already dating someone else. But when she falls from her pedestal, had her life crumbles under her feet, she’s sent right into Billy’s arms.

marjorie - Allison Argent x fem!reader - Coming soon

After Allison’s death, her girlfriend could swear that she was still there with her, but she knows better. She knows that it’s just her grief playing tricks on her.

closure - Robin Buckley x fem!reader - Coming soon

Robins girlfriend broke up with her six months ago suddenly before moving to a new Country for school. Today, she receives a latter and it stirrs up angry feelings within Robin.

evermore - Charlie Weasley x fem!reader - POSTED!

Y/N just broke up with her fiancé after finding out he was in love with another woman. With no home to run to, she packs a bag and heads to the only person she could think of - Charlie. But as she stays with him, she could sense that something was stirring between them.

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tiesandtea · 3 years

Link

I met two members of London Suede, Brett Anderson and Mat Osman, in the lounge of a major New York hotel. They were at the beginning of a four-city tour of the U.S. in support of their newest release, Coming Up on Columbia Records. I got a chance to talk to them about songwriting, performing and who they think can write a good song. Brett did almost all the talking and never took his sunglasses off. Hey, he's a rock star; he doesn't have to. This was my first time interviewing a British band and I couldn't escape the feeling of being Rob Reiner in Spinal Tap.

An interview with Brett & Mat by Dave Levine for Urban Desires, May 1997. The rest of the article under the cut. (x)

London Suede, or Suede as they're known in England, is at the forefront of the new Brit-Pop explosion that includes bands like Oasis, Blur and Pulp. They write lush poppy songs reminiscent of Bowie in the late seventies. As with many of the new British bands, success in America is hard won. They released their first record, Nude in 1993 and it went #1 in England but didn't make much sound on this side of the Atlantic. Why? well Brett thinks he knows, so read on.

UD: So have you guys been to New York a lot? LS: Yeah, we've been here quite a few times. UD: So what's the difference between London night life and New York? LS: I don't know really. I think every city in the world is pretty much the same, isn't it? I mean there's no difference between New York, and London. Everyone likes to think that they live in the biggest, baddest city in the world. London's just as big and bad as New York and Rio de Janeiro is just as big and bad as London. I think at this point in the twentieth century everyone is so well connected and the world's just become one big place... got tramps sittin' in the street and sex and sleaze and stuff like that. It's all the same, isn't it? UD: Except for the bars in London close at 11:00. LS: Yeah, but there are after-hours places. UD: What's your favorite place in the world to play? London? LS: Probably Thailand or Scandinavia. UD: Why? Because the crowds are crazy, and they just love it? LS: They're mad, especially in Singapore. They sing along with every word. UD: What about New York? To me, New York crowds are jaded. LS: Yeah, they are a bit. Last time we played here it was shit. I can't really get my hands around the mentality. I don't really know how to put this. I mean, I don't want to be offensive. UD: Go ahead be offensive, it makes good copy. LS: New Yorkers want to be shouted at or they don't respect you. They tend to assume that quietness equals weakness, which it doesn't. That's an assumption that I don't think anyone in the world makes. The first show we did here was really boring and the second show we were going through quite alot of bad times with the band. We were having alot of internal arguments and it was a real low point in our relations. We were so fucked up with each other, we absolutely fuckin' hated each other... I don't know how to put it.... UD: New York probably loved that. LS: Exactly, it came across in the gig. It was a real wild gig. UD: I read in your press release that when you first started playing, people hated you. Is that true? LS: (Both laughing) UD: Critically too, and then at some point it changed. Did you do anything? LS: No we just got better, that's all there is to it. We always were going against the grain, and so when you're doing something that is going against the grain and you're not very good at it, people hate you. When you do something against the grain and you're good at it, people start thinking it's something special. UD: So it was just experience, then? LS: Experience of playing live, learning how to sing and how to write songs.

UD: I want to give people here in the US that don't know much about you some background. How did you get started? LS: No one really fuckin' cares anyway. UD: ... Okay. Why do you think it's hard for modern British pop bands to break into the U.S.? LS: I know exactly why that is, 'cause the American music industry is obsessed with categories and things. And we aren't that happy with being categorized. In Europe we're just a pop band. We're #7, and George Michael is #5. You know, we're just a band. There is a song on the second album called "The Wild Ones." When we first played it for Sony they were doing somersaults. We thought it was like #1 and they took it to radio stations, and they couldn't get it played. They couldn't figure out if it was a love song or a rock song by a band with a bunch of guitars. We took it to alternative and they thought it was too mainstream, and we took it to mainstream and they thought it was too alternative. It's never been my desire to be neatly sectioned into some little box. Then you lose any mystery, any danger, any X factor that you might have had, and I don't think that many bands in Europe are happy being categorized like that. UD: Your press release touted you as the best lyricist of your generation-- LS: --I wouldn't believe anything it says there-- UD: --do you have any problem living up to that? LS: Do I have a problem with that? Yeah, I don't think it's true. I don't think anyone is the best lyricist of a generation. I should burn that press release. It's been the source of so much inflammatory rubbish. UD: What inspired you to start playing? LS: We just loved music and wanted to be in a band. LS: I wanted to be a song writer. UD: What songwriters do you admire? LS: Kraftwerk, Lennon and McCartney, Pet Shop Boys. UD: What do you think of Billy Bragg? LS: I think he's got a big nose. UD: (Laughing) I guess that would be 'not too much'. LS: Naw, I think he's alright. I like some of his love songs. UD: Yeah, he does write good love songs. LS: It's like Bob Dylan; I think all these political writers aren't as political when they are writing love songs. I think their political stuff stinks. Bob Dylan's political songs are so fucking one dimensional, and the same goes for Billy Bragg. UD: So you don't believe in the folk, socio-political commentary song? LS: Yeah I do. I just don't believe it's effective when it's put in that crass category. I don't think any of Bob Dylan's political songs were that moving. UD: ... What about "Times They Are A Changing"? LS: Yeah, I guess. UD: What about Elvis Costello? He's a guy who writes political songs. LS: Yeah I like "Shipbuilding." That's probably the best political song ever written. It goes beyond politics, and touches on the human consequences of politics, which I think song writing has got to do. I don't think you can just put numbers and manifestos within a chord sequence. I don't think it strikes a chord in the human heart. I think to actually say something to people you've got to say it with emotion. That's why I think that "Shipbuilding" is one of the best political songs.

UD: What's the worst thing about being on the road? LS: Standing in a pool of someone else's piss when you're on a fucking bus on a three-day journey. UD: Is there a story that goes along with that response? LS: No, that's an everyday occurrence. UD: What do you guys think about Tony Blair? LS: I think it's fucking great. I think it's the best thing to happen to England in a couple of years, wonderful. UD: In the United States they compare him a lot to Clinton. LS: A politician can never be one hundred percent great. I think a politician, as long as he inspires confidence in a positive way, then he's a good politician. And I think Blair and Clinton both do that. UD: What kind of press does Clinton get over there? LS: He gets good press. UD: He probably gets better press over there... LS: ... I'd rather see someone like him than some rejuvenated old skeleton like George Bush. You know what I mean? Some old man that looks like they've been revived, you know, dug up from the dead. UD: If you could just sit at home and write songs, would that satisfy you? LS: I don't think so, it's not boring enough yet to do that. There is part that is mundane. There are some low points but then there are some extreme highs and those highs can inform your writing. I think the point of it all is to actually let things inform other things, and let the whole thing become one big process. UD: Do you guys all get along on the road? LS: We've had fights in the past but not in the last couple of years. Although maybe we should start. LS: There is an idea. LS: Maybe I'll punch our bass player. UD: Head butt him? LS: Yeah, I want to give him a good head butt. LS: I might give him a hug. UD: No, don't do that. New Yorkers won't like it. Don't do the hug thing. Don't be nice or anything.

#suede #brett anderson #mat osman #coming up era #i thought i had posted this before but it seems i didn't?#anyway here it is :'DD

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scarlet--wiccan · 4 years

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(1/?) The MCU is going on a specific direction and might touch Wanda's history of mental illness. Maybe talk about that when you have the time? Wanda was going on a nice direction before all that happened.

Whew! Sorry it’s taken me so long to answer this— I have several super-long message chains like this one in my inbox and they’re hard to parse through and harder still to write a real answer for. I’m gonna try through a couple of these today.

Well, I think you hit all the important points here-- the optics of a mixed-raced family of first- and second- gen Holocaust survivors committing mass acts of terrorism, becoming rulers of a fascist, supremacist regime, and then, finally, committing pseudo-genocide, are, you know, not great. These are complicated characters whose representation can easily swing in either really positive or really, really negative directions, but this goes beyond the pale for me, especially given the proximity to 9/11.

The portrayal of Wanda's mental illness during this time, while not wholly unsympathetic, is wildly inaccurate and generally played as a horror motif. I'm not an expert on schizophrenia, but I think we can all agree that it's high time we moved past exploiting sick and disabled people's experiences for cheap scares. It's especially frustrating because Wanda, as a character, does have ground for poignant stories about mental illness-- she's had numerous traumatic experiences, starting with generational trauma and a lifetime of violent discrimination, and ending, at that point, with the deaths of her young children and the abrupt dissolution of her marriage. Her mental health should be addressed, but not in a way that demonizes illness or characterizes sick people as villains. One thing I appreciate about Robinson's Scarlet Witch is that it represents her mental illness in a very human, matter of fact manner and gives her the power to take control of her own wellness. She has realistic symptoms and pursues realistic treatments, instead of, you know, making hallucination constructs and getting mind-probed by Charles fucking Xavier.

Wanda is simultaneously infantilized and vilified in these stories-- she's denied agency at every turn, and yet, Wolverine and the other "heroes" of this saga view her with unbridled contempt, and most of them are immediately ready to murder her in the name of justice, even before the "no more mutants" spell was cast. You wondered how Bendis was able to inspire such a long lasting hatred of Wanda, and I think the simple answer is that almost every character in House of M hates Wanda. The characters you root for, the characters whose perspectives dictate the tone of the story, direct palpable fury towards her, and even those who aren't out for her blood don't extend any actual empathy towards her-- most are ambivalent to her wellbeing, while Xavier and Strange are incredibly paternalistic.

The final spell, "no more mutants", has baffled me for years. You're spot-on in saying that Wanda here represents a self-hating minority, but it's really hard for me to understand how she could have reached that point. It's not consistent with her previous characterization, nor is it thematically connected to the factors which led to her breakdown. Bendis places the onus of her condition on Erik, alleging that he abandoned and abused his children in his fanatic commitment to the mutant cause, which, besides being a willful misinterpretation of canon, has nothing to do with Wanda's current circumstance-- she's like this because Agatha Harkness altered her memories, because the Avengers continuously gaslit her, and becaue Mephisto killed her kids in the first place. It has nothing to do with Magneto, and Wanda's breakdown has nothing to do with mutant politics. She and Pietro were raised in a loving family until their adoptive parents were killed by racists. Erik didn't knowingly abandon them, and while he did mistreat them during the Brotherhood days, it wasn't parental abuse because he wasn't a father figure to them-- neither party had any idea they were related. Bendis is evoking specific forms of trauma that never actually happened, while ignoring the ones that did, and the effects of the spell itself are vague and seemingly random.

~~~~~

Young Avengers does call back to Wanda's circumstances in Disassembled and HoM, but it doesn't execute the concept of reality-warping in the same way. The driving force in YA is the spell which Billy casts, and Loki tampers with, in the first issue. It is a spell which distorts reality, but it has specific parameters, and neither party is characterized as "crazy" the way Wanda was. The spell was intended to bend space and time so that Billy could pull Teddy's mom from the past, before she was killed, into the present-- it's not dissimilar from how Wanda "retroactively reincarnated" her kids. Due to Loki's interference, however, the spell was hijacked by an interdimensional parasite called Mother. The Mother virus appears primarily as a construct of Teddy's mom, but as her influence over the Earth-616 dimension grows, she's able to create constructs of other dead parents, and even mind-control living adults. All of the ways in which reality is being warped hinge on the specific conditions under which Mother was summoned, and while it is Billy's magic that's fueling these constructs and distortions, they aren't symptoms of psychosis-- Billy doesn't lose control of his magic because he's losing his mind, he loses control because he's too young and inexperienced to protect himself from predatory forces. Those forces do take advantage of his depression and anxiety, but his condition is never the cause.

Loki's magic is wrapped up in the spell, too, but rather than conjuring dead parents, it emerges as a construct of their former best friend, Leah. Loki, in Young Avengers, is a mashup of two personae-- the reincarnated child Loki, and Ikol, a phantom of their past life who is carrying out the previous Loki's evil will even though their heart isn't in it. Ikol has mostly overshadowed Loki, who has been reduced to a ghost that torments Ikol by acting as a constant reminder of their guilt. Ikol is haunted by their past, but it's important that this haunting is a nuanced metaphor and not literal hallucination, as Wanda's condition was in HoM. Because Loki's power is part of the spell, Kid Loki's ghost is able to hijack the reality distortions to summon the construct of Leah, who, in turn, is able to summon the Young Avengers' other exes, the same way that Mother, in the form of Teddy's dead mom, can summon other dead parents.

Loki does raise the question of whether or not Billy might be subconsciously influencing Teddy with his powers, but this is clearly illustrated as a manipulation tactic and disproven several times. Loki's original goal in summoning Mother was to draw out Billy's full magical potential so that they could steal his power for themselves. Driving a wedge between Billy and Teddy, and causing Billy to question his own sanity, were devices to make Billy more susceptible to having his power stolen, and they worked-- Billy is not able to divest his magic from the spell and banish Mother from Earth-616 until he overcomes his self-doubt and start exercising mindfulness. Loki, in turn, is not able to divest their power from the spell and banish Leah and the other exes until they own up to their guilt and admit everything they've done. Both characters are experiencing symptoms of exacerbated mental illness-- Billy's depression and suicidal ideation, Loki's disassociation-- but their mental illness is not the source of their magic, but a challenge which makes it harder for them to live as their fully realized selves... just as it would be for any normal person.

I know that was a long-winded explanation, but I wanted to illustrate what sets Gillen's take on "reality warping" apart from Bendis's. It's based on clearly though-out ideas of how magic works and what defines "reality" in a world populated by parallel universes and living myth-forms. Gillen affords Loki and Billy a degree of sympathy without denying them agency, and Loki is held accountable for their decisions without being painted as a total monster. Bendis, meanwhile, characterizes Wanda's magic as delusion made real, and completely vilifies her for her illness in spite of the fact that she's given no control over her actions.

#bee text #Wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #house of m #Young Avengers #robintext

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verobatto · 4 years

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Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXXIX

It was a love story from the very beginning.

All For You (Part II)

(12x09)

Hello everyone! I'm here again with another meta from this series.

This time I'm gonna talk about episode 9 from season 12 "First Blood".

The episode is a picture of Cas' fears and insecurities. We have a face to face with his depression. But also is a prelude to his dead.

I failed

When you rewatch the episode knowing Cas is going to die and go to the Empty, what officer Camp says to Dean in the maximum security jail takes another relevance, and we can spot s huge foreshadow of what the Empty will mean to Castiel.

CAMP: See, when I leave, that door closes, and it stays closed, and you stay in the dark. Now, maybe that doesn’t sound so bad. But after a month? A year? You spend enough time staring at these walls, just you and all that nothing, you’ll get so crazy to talk, to see someone real, you’ll tell me exactly what I need. You’ll tell me with a smile.

Taking the symbolism in all these words, is quite a forced meditation. You and the nothing. An introspection, the loneliness, this will be Cas in the Empty. Cas will face himself, by himself I mean his fears, his insecurities, his depression. That's why the Empty will take his own form. And that way the Empty will be helping Cas to face his own darkness. Camp is using the nothing, and darkness as a weapon to break man and make them talk, but the Empty will use it to break Castiel and put him back to sleep, with a huge difference, it won't brake Cas but will make him stronger.

We will have a first dialogue between Cas and Mary, in which Mary will make Cas responsible for loosing his sons. But Castiel will replied pointing at Mary's responsibility too, and the woman will end up saying, they're both guilty.

MARY: You left them.

CASTIEL: No, I… Dean told me to go. The woman--

MARY: The one you lost?

CASTIEL: I didn’t. I… I thought that she--

MARY: Stop making excuses.

Mary is that voice of guilty in Castiel's head, making him suffer and being more depressed. Like someone inside of him telling him all the things he did wrong, another foreshadow of the Empty facing him in the darkness.

MARY: Why… if they needed help, why didn’t they call me?

CASTIEL: You were out.

MARY: [sighs] How did we let this happen, Castiel?

Mary takes the responsibility too here. She recognizes her own mistakes too. Because is not just Cas'fault.

Another picture of Castiel's depression is how deep he felt he couldn't solve a case, and how coming back from the Empty will give him more strenghts and more confidence in himself to solve cases by himself.

But in the meantime, we have another sad picture of his depression...

CASTIEL: I saw it on the news and I thought, that’s the sort of thing Sam and Dean would investigate. They would roll into town, save the day, kill the monsters. But with them gone… I tried to work the case. I tried. But… I don’t know what I did wrong. I… I asked questions, but maybe they were the wrong people, or the wrong questions, and I just-- I never found it. Never found the monster. Never even got close. And three more women died before I left town. Before I ran away.

He's calling himself here a coward, by using the words 'running away', and he names his failures, pointing at how important are Dean and Sam to the world. Words he will repeat at the end of this episode after killing Billie.

MARY: So we go back. You and me.

CASTIEL: No, no. I'd only get in your way.

And now Castiel is calling himself useless.

From Longing in the dark to cosmic consequences

The scene with Dean in the jail that cuts to Cas sitting in the bunker, in the middle of the darkness, is a prelude too at what Cas in the Empty and Dean longing for him in real life will be, but in reverse. The longing.

Gif credit @blueredeye2

When Dean and Sam die and then resurrect, and then Dean calls Castiel. They pictured a phone ringing alone in the bunker. A failed first attempt, but then, Castiel picks up. This could be a foreshadow of how Dean will pray to Chuck and Cas to get him back, but it won't work at first... Helped with the lovers longing and some magic from a nephilim, it will work the second attempt.

The first person Dean calls after be or from the jail is CASTIEL, NOT MARY, BUT CASTIEL. This is very relevant because it's showing us that evidently, Dean was longing strongly for his angel.

And Cas not being able to find Dean and Sam shows us that my theory about how his grace lowers when he's depressed. There's an important connection between Castiel's feelings with his powers.

Now, let's check that phone call...

DEAN: Cas.

CASTIEL: Dean?

DEAN: Hey, buddy. Long time.

This denotes Dean missed him.

CASTIEL: What… What happened? Wh-- where are you?

DEAN: You wouldn’t believe me, and I have no clue. Uh…

Dean is hiding their deal with Billie, Sam didn't expect he would do that to Cas...

SAM: You didn’t tell him?

DEAN: No.

Dean only said they're running out of time. To make Cas to hurry.

The world needs you.

I laughed so hard because when those agents talked with Dean by phone, this line appeared...

DEAN: Well, what we have here is a failure to communicate.

Okay, foreshadow of Destiel misscomunication of the whole season 13/14 and 15! We should know it! 🤣

But also, notice how Dean is avoiding to talk with Sam about the deal, about who will go with Billie, of course because we know who will offer himself willingly to die for everyone: Dean.

So, to Dean, there's nothing to talk about.

Let's talk about the reunion. The reactions (oh yes, we are gonna talk about reactions a lot here) when Cas found them, Dean is like in awe to see him, and the one hugging him first is Sam. A beautiful hug and a beautiful scene. Dean didn't expect Cas to be there, that's the only explanation to his reaction. Then he goes for his hug, and Castiel's face always break my heart... That angel was very sad and depressed in this season. Damn.

Gif credit @spnsmile

Now, let's talk about the car, because Dean is the first born, and sorry for the little brothers here, but first born goes in the front seat with the father/mother driving hahahahaa. And yes, I'm a first born and I know very well my rights.

But Dean is in the back seat this time... Why? Because his angel is in the back seat, you know? And he is about to die? Yes, little detail. So there's this head canon out there, where people say Dean was about to confess something or to say goodbye to his angel and even that he held his hand over there... IDK, I like these ideas but... I will just keep the one I have clues for... Because Dean confessing his love will take a lot of work. We are still waiting for it, right?

Gif set credit @haloless 👇

But, I do believe, he was trying to talk about Billie and the deal, and we failed at doing it. That's why the longing stare, and Cas puzzled face saying "What's going on?" And Dean "Damn, I couldn't use my words, again."

And then we have Billie, and Mary trying to go with her, and then Cas kills the reaper.

And cosmic consequences, and Cas speech that conquered each Winchester's heart over there, but the reactions are different, so, let's check his speech...

DEAN: Cas, what have you done?

CASTIEL: What had to be done. You know this world-- this sad, doomed little world-- it needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get, and I will not let you die. I won’t let any of you die. And I won’t let you sacrifice yourselves. You mean too much to me. To everything. Yeah, you made a deal. You made a stupid deal, and I broke it. You’re welcome.

Gif set credit @inacatastrophicmind 👇

Okay, Cas is too cute, but faces people's, FACES, Sam and Mary are very touched. But Dean??? Damn... Dean is so, so in love. Is like if we could read his mind, yelling : "YES CAS, YOU MEAN TO MUCH FOR ME TOO, MARRY ME RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW, LET'S MAKE A LITTLE NEPHILIM."

The thing is, again, we have different reactions, writers are showing us the difference between ROMANTIC LOVE (Dean) and FAMILY LOVE (Sam and Mary).

To Conclude:

This episode gave is a sad picture of Castiel's sadness and depression.

The foreshadow of the Empty, and how Cas will face himself, and will come back stronger from the darkness.

It also shows us the difference between family love and romantic love, and one interesting hint about what Destiel misscomunication will be.

Hope you liked this one, see you in the next meta!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @nickelkit @anon-non2 @cea1996

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous metas From this season, here you have the links:

Vol. LXXV, LXXVI, LXXVII and LXXVIII.

Buenos Aires, September 15th 2020 5:38 AM

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tonitheloftwing · 3 years

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Jumanji: A Film About Mental Health, Trauma, and Jungle Hijinxs

So, Jumanji. I guess this isn’t a full analysis because I’m not like planning this out in advance or anything, but I just want to drop my thoughts on this movie yknow? This movie certainly isn’t perfect, but I live very close to where certain scenes in the movie were shot, so therefore I have a pretty close connection to it. Fun fact, I see Parrish Shoes wall art almost every time I go into town! They put it up for the movie but never took it down/cleaned the wall, kind of as a landmark. When I was little and before I’d seen this movie, I thought that Parrish Shoes was an actual shoe company due to this. But yeah Jumanji is sort of a cultural phenomenon around here, even the newer movies.

For reference: Everything I say here is just my personal interpretation of the film. Also halfway through I decided this isn’t going to be a general overview of the film but moreso a theme essay. TW for mental health related stuff, mainly PTSD and childhood trauma. And murder.

As a kid I did NOT pick up on the themes of mental health. Pretty much each character is suffering from some kind of mental health issue, and it’s not played for laughs, which is kind of uncommon in movies from this time period. I know it’s kind of common knowledge at this point that the hunter dude is played by the same man as Alan’s father and is supposed to represent him to Alan (this is played quite on the nose at the end of the movie), but Alan really doesn’t have a good relationship with his dad. Alan is a victim of bullying and has a lot of pressure put onto him due to the family name, which is stressful for him, but his dad doesn’t understand and therefore undermines all of Alan’s struggles and even does things that might make them worse, like forcing him to attend Cliffside School For Boys. Even if Alan is as grandiose as his father thinks, going to this school would still not be good for his health. Of course, Alan doesn’t have to go to this school because he gets sucked into Jumanji, and has to spend 26 years trying to survive in the jungle. To me, at least, this represents the stress and fear and anxiety Alan would have had to deal with if his life continued the way it had as a young boy; a childhood wasted surviving in the jungle. (Speaking of which, how did Alan survive that long anyways as a 11-13 year old? What a trooper!) This doesn’t really connect to the former points, but we also see that having to endure the suffering in the jungle (or, in this metaphor, being made to grow up too fast and have his anxiety worsen) hasn’t made Alan any more mature. In fact, multiple times, it’s mentioned that he’s still very childish. Sometimes it’s played off for laughs, like when he is revealed to not being able to drive a car or when he holds onto the grudge of Billy Jessop when Sarah has completely forgotten who he is, but other times it’s actually quite serious. Like when Judy asks what Alan is going to do with his life now that he’s back, he has no idea. He says something along the lines of “I’ll just start back off where I left. I wonder if Ms. [Teacher] still teaches the sixth grade.” He hasn’t matured... at all. Mentally, he’s still a sixth grade boy, just with a crap ton of trauma and 26 years of wasted life.

The other characters, Judy, Peter, and Sarah all mainly seem to suffer from PTSD. Sarah’s is the most obvious, as she goes to therapy for her PTSD, and her therapist is trying to convince her that Alan was in fact murdered, and the bats and watching him be sucked into the board game were figments of her imagination to protect her from the trauma. It seems as if Sarah herself doesn’t fully believe this notion, but since it’s more easily explainable and more easy to heal from, she goes with that. When she calls up her therapist, telling her about another “episode” she’s having, it implies that Sarah has PTSD induced flashbacks from this trauma, which I found quite surprising for the movie to nod to, seeing as this is based off a children’s book about a magic board game. In the fight Alan and Sarah have before the stampede arrives, it’s even mentioned how Sarah is shunned by society for her mental health condition, as no one comes to her birthday party and she had to change her name to fit in with society. While the former might seem small, for a teenager who has just watched a friend of hers die, it has a horrible effect on her. Like Alan, her trauma has wasted her life for 26 years.

Judy and Peter have lesser cases, or at least aren’t explored into as much as the two adults, which make sense. They both also seem to suffer from PTSD from the death of their parents, which manifests in different ways for the both of them. In Judy, it presents itself in compulsive lying (although her lying seems to be quite exaggerated and mainly played for laughs), and Peter’s in selective mutism, both of which can be results of childhood trauma/PTSD.

At the end of the movie, all of this is undone. Alan and Sarah go back to the past, and get to do everything all over, as many survivors of childhood trauma wish they could. Judy and Peter have no recollection of any of this, and their parents never die. Even Alan’s father improves within a matter of minutes, and decides to be a good father to Alan and not pressure him into living up to the family name. (How did that happen, anyways? Did the board game somehow have an effect on him too? Was the writing team not thinking?) All their trauma has been reversed, but, at least Alan and Sarah, still have to live with the memories of how things could have gone.

Also, fun fact! I’m kind of into true crime and if the Alan Parrish case happened IRL I’m pretty sure that it would have either been ruled a homicide or gone unsolved. If you want me to become Stephanie Harlowe and make a post about how the Alan Parrish investigation would have gone down I’ll do so.

#tw mental health #tw ptsd #tw trauma #tw murder #jumanji #jumanji movie #robin williams #alan parrish #mental health #movies #film analysis

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queen-haq · 3 years

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Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 17

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3300 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Part 17

Billy couldn’t stop gawking at you, wondering how it was possible you grew more beautiful each time he saw you. The red wrap dress you were wearing accentuated all your curves, and it took every bit of willpower he had not to rip it off of you and fuck you senseless right then and there. Unfortunately, he had to behave himself. Caravan was a pretty bouji place that had recently been labelled as one of the hottest restaurants in Manhattan and he had to pull a few strings to get a last-minute reservation for tonight. But seeing the smile on your face when you realized this was where you were dining had been completely worth all the hassle.

As the hostess guided the two of you to your table, he noticed a few assholes at the bar admiring you from afar. Immediately he snaked his arm around your waist to draw you in closer. You were his. If he could he’d pluck out every one of those fuckers’ eyes so they never made the mistake of looking at you again. Better yet, he’d keep you locked behind closed doors. Of course you wouldn’t agree to anything like that because you were too goddamn independent for your own good.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, taking a seat at your designated table.

Billy’s attention returned to your face as he followed suit, his gaze inhaling you in. “You look too hot. Too many assholes staring at you,” he grumbled.

The worried look on your face was replaced with a beaming smile, one that made his cock twitch.

“You’re being ridiculous” you remarked, scanning the menu.

His eyes drifted down to your chest, the swell of your soft, supple breasts just begging to be kissed and licked by him.

“Stop staring at my boobs, Billy,” you chastised even as a small smile graced your lips. “This is a proper first date. You can’t just ogle me like that. You have to behave like a gentleman.”

He quirked his eyebrow. “Sweetheart, I’ve never been that.”

“Well, try,” you ordered.

The waitress came by with the bottle of red wine you’d requested and poured some in both of your glasses. He noticed the redhead giving him a friendly smile, her green eyes lingering on him for a second too long. Fine, yeah, she may have been hot but she wasn’t you. No one was. So while he would have happily slipped her his number in the past, now the idea of being with someone who wasn’t you no longer excited him.

Once she left, he took the opportunity to move a few inches closer to you. What he really wanted was to get on his knees and bury his head between your legs, but something told him eating you out in in the crowded restaurant wouldn’t go over very well with you.

“I think she likes you.”

Hand propped on the back of your chair, he started playing with your hair. “Who?”

“Our waitress. She didn’t look at me once, her eyes were on you the entire time.”

He leaned in, ecstatic at the thought of you acting possessive. Even though you’d confessed to having feelings for him, Billy still worried you were ready to bolt at any moment. To see you jealous meant you genuinely cared and he didn’t have to worry about you leaving him. “She’s not my type. I have my eyes on someone else.”

You made a show of looking around the restaurant. “Oh, is Madani here too?”

“Funny,” he retorted, taking your hand in his.

“Your ginger’s lucky. I’m dressed way too nice or I’d take my knife and stab her with it.”

He smirked. “You’re vicious when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t like bad service.”

“Bullshit.”

“Billy, you’re hot. You know that. All the women here are checking you out. If I freaked out every time someone did that, I’d have a breakdown.”

He wanted to destroy the fucking world at the thought of someone even looking at you but apparently you were simply ambivalent about him. “So it’s that easy for you? Your brain tells you to turn off a feeling and your heart just does it?” Even to his own ears he sounded bitter. “Guess you’re not all that invested in me.”

Your eyebrow quirked up, apparently surprised by his edgy tone. “Do you want me to go nuts?”

“Just want you to give a damn.”

“You think I don’t?” you snapped. “Every time she looks at you I want to tear her hair out. Even though the rational part of me knows she’s probably just flirting with you because it’s part of her job or she’s hoping for big tips. Or maybe she really does want to fuck you. Either way, I want to punch her across the face. Happy?” You gulped down your wine.

Grinning, he squeezed your hand. “Then why not just tell me that? Why act like you don’t care?”

The agitated expression on your face was replaced with tenderness, your eyes soft. “Just because I don’t have a jealous fit doesn’t mean I don’t care. I just…” You exhaled a sigh, and he sensed this was difficult for you. “I express my emotions differently than you.”

“I noticed. You put on an act while holding everything in.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“But I want you, the real you, not the version everyone else sees.”

“It’s not that easy, Billy.”

He brought your palm to his lips. “I’d never told anyone about my mother.”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you pointed out.

“You found out anyway, and I’m so fucking glad you did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have realized I could be real with you.” He placed a tender kiss on your skin. “I don’t want to hide anything from you, Y/N.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me about William Rawlins.”

Your request gave him pause, his eyes roaming over your face. He’d taken painstaking measures to keep his partnership with Rawlins a secret yet you’d discovered it. “What do you want to know?”

“He gave you a lot of money.”

“I earned that money,” he said in a defensive tone. “He and I were partners for a while. Then he died.”

“You went to a lot of trouble to hide your connection to him.”

“You found out about it though.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m good at what I do.”

“Yeah, too good,” he muttered. He released your hand, watching you intently. “So what do you want to know?”

You leaned in closer, your voice barely above a whisper. He was momentarily distracted by the sensation of your tits pressed against him but he forced himself to concentrate.

“What happened to Rawlins, did you have anything to do with it?”

Billy took a swig of his wine. “Why do you think that?”

You quirked your eyebrow at him. “Knifed by someone in the parking lot. They never found the guy who did it.”

“He had a lot of enemies,” he pointed out.

“Okay, so maybe I was wrong.”

He studied you for several seconds, trying to decide if he should take the leap or not. “You’re not wrong.”

Realization dawned on your face as the truth set in. “Why did you do it?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?”

So he told you, about Operation Cerberus, his role in it and the money he earned, how he’d eliminated Rawlins a year ago when the prick plotted to take out Frank and his family. To this day Frank didn’t know about Billy’s partnership with Rawlins or how close he came to dying and he intended to keep it that way.

Throughout his confession his eyes were glued to your face, gauging your reactions. The part of him determined to do anything to be a success, the one who didn’t let society’s morals get in the way of his ambitions, would never be accepted by his closest friends. Despite the myriad of reasons to have kept that side of himself hidden, he didn’t want to do that with you. Because as risky as it was to be so open with you, it was also exhilarating. There was no one in this world he’d ever been this honest with and that kind of intense connection with you was addictive. He wanted you to know everything about him, all of the dark and vicious thoughts that ran through his head, the burning ambition that kept pushing him forward. He wanted you to know him inside and out and he wanted the same from you.

Before he could prod you to speak your mind the server came by with your dishes, setting your meals on the table. The redhead took her time, all the whilst your gaze was focused on the table, avoiding his. Billy’s heart started to pound in his chest, he was suddenly filled with doubt. Had he made a mistake in telling you the truth? Did he just completely fuck this up? Every second the goddamn redhead lingered at the table felt like an eternity when all he wanted was to shake you out of your stupor.

The second the server left, he moved in on you. “Are you gonna say something?”

You finally looked at him, your forehead burrowed. “We need to do a better job of hiding your history with Rawlins. I found it, that means someone else can too.”

“You gonna help me with that?”

You shook your head ‘yes’. “Yeah, I have to. You need me.”

“What I did doesn’t bother you?”

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “Of course it does, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ve seen me at my worst and you didn’t judge me. I won’t do that to you either. Besides, when the universe deals you a shitty hand you’ve got to find other ways to even out your odds.”

A strange feeling of warmth flooded over him, compelling him to angle forward and kiss you on the lips.

You pulled away a second later, smiling at him as you rubbed the corner of his mouth. “This lipstick isn’t kiss-proof.”

“I don’t care.” Wicked visions of you flashed through his mind. Your bold red lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him off the way he liked it. His cum spread over your tits, your neck, your lips. The taste of your sweet, delicious cunt on his tongue as he fucked you with his mouth. The heat of your tongue against his as he rammed into you over and over-

“Stop looking at me like that,” you warned.

“Then stop looking so hot,” he snarked.

You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip.

It blew his mind how sweet and shy you were when he paid you compliments, like you didn’t expect that from him. Obviously he needed to fix that, because you deserved to know how insanely beautiful you were all the time.

“Has Anvil been okay without Rawlins?” you asked, taking a bite out of your butternut squash ravioli.

Swallowing his steak, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It was tough for a while but we’ve been doing pretty well the last few months.”

“You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, Billy. You took a big risk going into business for yourself and you made it work. That’s amazing. I could never do that.”

Billy’s insides radiated with happiness. Other than Curtis and Frank he never really had people who genuinely believed in him so to have you cheering him on was exalting. Especially considering you were great at what you did and he had so much respect for you.

He poured himself and you more wine before reaching for your hand again. “I think you could. You’d make a shitload of money if you freelanced.”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No way, I’m too much of a coward to take a risk like that.” You took a sip of your wine. “Plus I get to go to Paris for work.”

“Or you could go to Paris on vacation and not work.”

“Then I’d have to pay for it,” you pointed out, grinning. “When you grow up the way I did, you learn to appreciate free things.”

Your enthusiasm was infectious, he couldn’t hep but smile back. A part of him was hoping this would be the perfect opening for you to talk more about your childhood, about everything you went through, because he desperately wanted you to trust him as much as he trusted you with his secrets.

“I’ll be there for two weeks,” you continued, oblivious to his disappointment. “We’re going to scout out locations for the new branch and-”

“We?” Billy interjected.

You cast him a quick glance. “Roger’s coming with me on the trip.”

The jealousy that struck him felt like a swift kick to his gut. Images of you and that goddamn bastard traipsing around and enjoying romantic date nights in Paris assaulted his mind. Agitated, he pulled his hand from yours. “I bet that fucker can’t wait to be alone with you.”

“Billy, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“How would you feel if I took off with someone who wanted to fuck me?”

“First of all, he doesn’t want me.”

His jaw clenched with frustration as he glared at you. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s thought about fucking you.”

“Even if he does, I don’t want him.” You reached out to cup his face, your voice so soft and tender in your attempts to placate him that he momentarily forgot how upset he was. “You really think I’d jeopardize what we have for a fling with Roger? I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then don’t go. Turn him down.”

Irritation flickered over your face, he could tell you were done coddling him. “Billy, you have no right to ask me that. I’d never interfere with your work.”

Underneath all that jealousy he knew you were right. As much as he despised the idea of you going away to Paris with another guy, he couldn’t demand that you not go on work trips. If you did that to him, it would annoy the fuck out of him. Yet despite his rational side recognizing he was asking for too much, he couldn’t help but feel bitter. “That asshole’s gonna make a move on you, I know it.”

“What if he does? What do you think is gonna happen?”

Hs eyes met yours, urgently seeking some kind of validation from you. “You tell me.”

“Do you think I’m going to sleep with him?”

He flinched. “Don’t talk about fucking another guy, please. You’re gonna make me lose my appetite.”

You took his hand and placed it over your left breast, probably to distract him from all the disgusting images that were running through his brain. “I wanted you so badly and even then it took me like a month to fuck you. Trust me, I’m not going to sleep with him when I’m not even attracted to him.”

Spotting the earnestness in your eyes, the knot in his stomach finally loosened. Roger may have had a hard-on for you but Billy knew you felt nothing for the fucker. He’d noticed that even at the night of the gala. So that meant he had to trust you, there was no reason not to. “Call me every night when you’re there,” he grumbled.

“Every night? You’re probably going to start blocking my calls,” you laughed.

He booped your nose. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

You beamed. “Fine.” A wicked glint flashed in your eyes, a seductive smile on your lips as you slowly moved his hand lower, his fingers now on your nipple. “Hey, just ‘cause you’re not there with me doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

He stroked your nipple over the fabric of your dress, enjoying how the nub hardened under his touch, the way your breath hitched in your throat when he continued his ministrations. With his other hand he tucked your hair behind your ear, whispering to you. “Phone sex is alright, but nothing beats this.” His tongue curved along the shell of your ear, and you trembled against him. “Right?”

The waitress seemed to come out of nowhere this time to ask how your meals were, and you jumped back. Disappointed, he sighed.

“Food was great. Thank you,” you replied, smiling stiffly at the redhead.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Privacy would be great,” Billy muttered.

You kicked him under the table. “Dessert menu?”

“Sure. I’ll bring it right over,” the waitress said, taking your plates away.

“I’ll give you all the sugar you want once we get outta here,” he murmured seductively, caressing your thigh.

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “That’s a terrible line!” You took his hand and removed it from your thigh. “Billy, I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s our first date and I don’t put out on the first date.”

“Now that’s a terrible line,” he fired back, mimicking your earlier tone.

“Also, we already had sex this morning.”

“So? I’m greedy. I can’t get enough of you.” There was that shy smile of yours again, and he reached out to give you a sweet peck on the cheek. “You blush every time I tease you.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, it’s adorable.”

Your cheeks grew even more red. “I’m not used to it from you. A part of me still thinks you’re bullshitting me.”

Billy stiffened. “Really?”

“I know you’re not playing me,” you reassured. “It’s on me, not you. I just have a hard time accepting when good things happen.”

The waitress came by with the dessert menu. He briefly glanced at it before ordering a slice of pecan pie while you ordered a piece of chocolate cake.

As soon as the redhead left, he broached the topic with you again. “I’m not gonna hurt you, babe. You have to believe that.”

You didn’t look at him, your eyes fixed somewhere on his chest. “I do. You were so pissed off at me last night. I honestly expected you to hit me because you were so angry. But you didn’t.”

It made him sick to his stomach that you actually thought him capable of hitting you. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you would worry about that, but of course you would. With your childhood it made perfect sense, he was just a fucking idiot who hadn’t realized how much it still impacted you. “I’m never gonna lay a hand on you. I swear.” His eyes locked with yours, hoping you can sense how much he meant those words.

“I believe you.”

His voice was insistent, his gaze boring into you. “Why did you think I would?”

Your eyes wavered from his eyes to his lips for a long time, the atmosphere thick with tension. Your facial expressions ran the gamut of painful emotions, from uncertainty to fear to sheer panic.

It finally sank in that maybe the reason you were keeping the truth from him had noting to do with if you trusted him or not. Maybe you didn’t want to be assaulted by memories from the past that caused you so much pain. The last thing he wanted was for you to experience that hell again. Regretting his demanding tone, his hands caressed down the length of your arms. “You don’t have to tell me, It’s okay.”

Your eyes brimmed with aching vulnerability as you looked up at him. “I want to… I just… give me some time, okay?” You pressed your lips against his, giving him the softest, sweetest kiss. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight for so long, I don’t want to ruin it, you know?”

His heart felt full, his mind reeling with wonderment at the thought of you truly reciprocating his feelings. His arms wrapped around you as you sank into him, burying your face in his chest. His fingers stroked the back of your hair, murmuring soft, soothing words to you. Somewhere in the distance he heard the server’s voice trying to interject, but he didn’t give a damn. He was yours and you were his and nothing was going to ruin that. Nothing.

Part 18

A/N - I realize not much happened in this chapter but I just reallly wanted to write a dialogue heavy part where they simply get to know and enjoy each other. I think they’ve earned some fluff. LOL.

As always, thank you for your kind words of encouragement. Please let me know your thoughts.

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #billy russo x you #the punisher #a woman scorned

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aros001 · 3 years

Text

Going in blind: Watching season 2 for the first time. Random thoughts.

Huh. Only 7 episodes. Not complaining necessarily. For series with an ongoing plot I've definitely become more in favor with their seasons only having as many episodes as they need rather than them having to stretch themselves out to full up a certain number of episodes, which can lead to padding and just bad character moments.

Episode 1: Jeez. Catra visiting Shadow Weaver's cell just to rub her success in her face and verbally abuse her back for once. It's like a twisted version of Zuko and Ozai from ATLA. Catra's upbringing under her was abusive but this is far from a healthy way for her to deal with it. She's basically deliberately swimming in her resentment.

Episode 2: It's not that I'm rooting for her but by-golly was it fun to watch Catra act like just the absolute worst she could while she was Glimmer and Bow's captive.

I touched on this in season 1 but part of the drama of the heroes feeling guilt over leaving Entrapta behind is kind of lost on me a bit simply because it was her own fault it happened. She deliberately went back into the purge room because of her machine obsession, which then closed on her and erupted in flames. It was more than reasonable to assume she was dead and no one but her was to blame, so I'm not really able to be invested in their guilt over it.

That said, weirdly enough I do like that her "abandonment" doesn't seem to be even a blip on the radar for Entrapta herself. She hasn't joined the horde because she resents the heroes or felt left behind, she simply is so obsessed with machines and experimentation that she'll be on the side of whoever lets her do the most of that. Like, it's selfish and irresponsible but it's very in-character and I'd far rather have a traitor motivation be based in that over something stupid like a misunderstanding.

Episode 3: I love the mental image of Shadow Weaver thinking up princess-themed ghost stories to tell Adora as a child.

So, if the previous She-Ra Mara separated Eternia from the other realms/planets/whatever she did and that's what cut off the She-Ra line for 1000 years, I'm guessing Hordak may be from the time before that happened, thus his drive to create portals and calling Eternia a backwards world. Either he's naturally long-lived or his technology is extending his life.

Episode 4: You know, you could maybe argue it was vague enough that it could be taken other ways but I'm definitely getting some vibes here that Scorpia is crushing on Catra. She literally refers to the two of them as soulmates at one point. I know she says she's trying to be friends but this feels a level beyond that.

Fun little reference to the original She-Ra cartoon thrown in there (and maybe Cowboy Bebop...? James Bond...? What was Glimmer's art style supposed to be?). I like how it is more like just playful ribbing than anything outright dumping on the original. Again, I've never seen original She-Ra but whenever remakes/adaptations go out of their way to trash to the original I always kind of wonder why they bothered doing an adaptation if the original is just that bad? Also, I was having trouble sleeping so it was about 2am when I watched this episode and the very Eartha Kitt Catwoman Catra made it very difficult for me not to lose my **** and stay quiet. With how much of a contrast that version is from the one in this series, that was hilarious. Bonus note, it's a nice touch that Frosta's version of Catra is a pretty crasher in that sweet suit, since that's the only impression of Catra she's ever had.

Adora being a chosen one is definitely elevated up simply by how much the pressure of what she's supposed to be is getting to her. I'm likely going to keep making Avatar The Last Airbender comparisons throughout the series but that's partly because I went into this series figuring it'd be at least structured similar to ATLA (season 1 being more episodic and a little more kid-friendly as it builds up the world before getting more serious later). Adora and Aang are interesting to compare here. Aang's worries early on were less apparent because he was more in-denial/choosing not to think about his problems that much, which fit with his character as a free-spirited Air Nomad. While Adora is much more military-minded. She can't keep herself from thinking about her problems and trying to prepare for the worst-case scenario. And jeez, that idea of who/how Catra is in her mind. Not only beating her but making her watch as she takes everything she cares about away. Not Shadow Weaver, not Lord Hordak, but Catra. That whole Lion King Mufasa/Scar moment between them in episode 11 and their fight in the S1 finale really did a number on her mental image of her old friend. Not reasonably so.

Minor note: I'm sure I'm the only one who got this impression but by the look of it, the way the robot's eye moved, and the music, after getting the soda spilled on it that little spybot gained sentience for half a second and then immediately died. It was so darkly comedic I had to laugh.

Episode 5: So that red disc is basically She-Ra's Red Kryptonite, having an effect on the mind rather than the body. The drunk Adora joke doesn't really do it for me but it did get some nice interactions going between Scorpia and Sea Hawk, two characters I certainly wasn't expecting to bond. I did really like Catra's panic when berserker She-Ra nearly beheads her. The implication is that is Adora really wanted to kill her Catra would already probably be dead. It's a thing I like about powerhouse characters like Superman or Aang, who could just demolish everything around them and don't simply because they're a good person...which in turn makes them the scariest person on the planet when they're well and truly ticked off. I'm not going to lie, I do kind of want to see a She-Ra version of Aang when Appa was stolen or when Superman fought The Elite.

Also, Catra's line of "I have control over Adora. I'm not giving that up for anything.". There's a lot to read into there.

Episode 6: I guess my prediction was sort of right. Shadow Weaver became basically a magic parasite and while it did increase the power she's capable of the implication seems to be that she needs a constant fix of magic to keep herself going, thus her attachment to the Black Garnet.

Have we seen Micah before? Given how long ago the flashback seems set, the fact that Shadow Weaver didn't kill him and thus he probably becomes someone important later in life, I'm guessing he's Glimmer's dad and the queen's late husband, since I think he's the only important male character whose face we haven't seen yet. Also, he's voice by Ezra from Star Wars Rebels and that cracks me up for some reason. It's the exact same voice and a relatively similar character.

I compared Catra and Shadow Weaver with a kind of twisted version of Zuko and Ozai and that definitely still fits here. Both Catra and Zuko confront their parent and call them out for the inexcusable abuse they put them through but while that moment was the start of Zuko's upwards journey this and SW's betrayal seems like it's going to cause Catra to spiral even further. Makes sense why Adora leaving affected her so much. She's probably the only one Catra's ever had that she could consistently trust and rely on, even if she did somewhat resent her.

Not surprised Hordak is getting along with Entrapta. She's not socially aware enough to be scared or intimidated by him, so she'll speak frankly, and since all she wants to talk about is the machines, experiments, and how they could get them to work Hordak probably doesn't take much issue with that. She's producing results, which is what he cares about, thus also why Shadow Weaver and Catra started losing favor with him. I wonder if Catra is going through imposter syndrome? Shadow Weaver had that line that Entrapta earned her place next to Hordak and, if you think about it, Catra hasn't really "earned" anything. We saw that she didn't really take her training or studies that seriously, showing up late to combat practice and even getting partial credit for what Adora beat. She wasn't promoted to Force Captain because of her own abilities but because Adora had defected when she was supposed to get that title. She's come close to a few victories but never really had any except for Glimmer and Bow's kidnapping...whom she then basically let escape when she returned Adora's sword to her. She doesn't have the slightest clue how the horde's bureaucracy works when trying to get things done, like simply getting troops armor. Given how much better than her Adora always was and how little she herself has to her name, I wonder is subconsciously Catra believes she doesn't deserve her current position and thus why she's fretting so much over trying to prove herself.

Episode 7: Am I mistaken or did Bow's parents say that he's the youngest of TWELVE siblings? I was going to ask whether Bow was adopted or if his dad's used a surrogate or if maybe there's even just simply magic in She-Ra's world that allows two people of the same sex to have a child together but now I'm just focused on the 12 kids thing. I get nervous just imagining myself having more than one. You should see me when I'm with two cats. I have to pet both of them because I'd feel like I'd be making one feel left out and like the other is the favorite. I'm a mess with kids.

The dad with dreadlocks (Lance?), his design looked familiar to me and I finally realized it reminded me a of a fanart design for a human Grim from The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. Very different voices between those two characters though.

I wonder if there's any significance to the robot protecting the crystal having the same design as those in the artic in episode 5? Obviously both have the connection to the First Ones but the robot in the forest who was also protecting First Ones' tech had a more insect-like design over these more worm/Graboid ones.

I'm kind of curious what Hordak would have done if Catra had told the truth. Given his interactions with her and Shadow Weaver he doesn't seem like the time to tolerate failure but I suppose the implication here is that he at least would respect those who own up to their failures. Or I suppose more simply he was just testing to see if she would lie to him and since she did there's little merit in keeping her in a position of authority anymore where she could lie about important things again.

Season 2 verdict: Still enjoying it. Another person on this reddit recommended I view seasons 2 and 3 as one since they are basically just one season split in two. I was going to do that but this ended up longer than I thought I would, so I'll just do 2 and 3 separate to keep them semi-organized and easier to read.

I think overall Catra is my favorite character since she has the most interesting backstory, interactions, and just general path through the story out of everyone. She's like Pearl from Steven Universe or, well, Zuko. There's just so much baggage there that she's trying and kind of failing to deal with. I'm always invested in whatever's happening when she's onscreen. Hordak so far is a good big boss villain for Adora to face but Catra is a good archenemy for her.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrincessesOfPower/comments/o027y3/going_in_blind_watching_season_2_for_the_first/

#she ra #she ra spop #random thoughts #reddit repost

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weeklyfangirl · 4 years

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 21

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20

HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx

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Things I want:

Live a life that helps others

Financial freedom

Experience a great love

Visit the the Pincio Gardens in Italy

To have more dreams and fewer nightmares

Doodle more

Acquire a first edition book, either because an old friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch

To be happy

Please note: not necessarily in that order

It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said “Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.

My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough.

“oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.”

A flying toenail hit my eye.

“WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.

“Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.

“oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!”

“IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back.

I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.

I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle.

“All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.

“You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.”

“Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.”

I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.”

“Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?”

This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did.

After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t.

And he didn’t.

And therein lay the problem.

It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.

“Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.”

“Ew, he smells like meat.”

“RENNY!!”

“I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”

“He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.”

She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window.

“Hey Renny?”

“Hm.”

A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?”

“Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.”

“Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.

“Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?”

Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first.

“I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.”

“Oh.”

“It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”

“The divorce or your virginity.”

“Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis.

“I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more.

Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?”

Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him.

“Maybeeee…?”

But then there was last night.

I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves?

“No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.”

Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.”

“Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this.

Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly.

But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him?

You were right, Harry. You are fucked.

I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh.

I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??

Renny was right.

I needed therapy.

The clippers were tossed back on my desk.

“Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?”

DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please.

I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”

“NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.

“Fine. I can keep a secret.”

I was getting a little too good at that lately.

She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious.

“Yeah, more than you know.”

And I was serious, too.

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

I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs.

Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery. .

“Woah did you hear that?”

Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.”

It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.

The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next.

A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did.

“It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts.

“How’d you know that?”

She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance.

I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick.

Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away.

My hand wavered.

Odd.

Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors.

I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over.

“Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”

Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.

Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”

She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster.

“I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”

Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”

I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.”

Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too.

“Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed.

We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from.

“Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment.

My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?”

“Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-”

“My God,” David proclaimed.

Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”

It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.”

“Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass.

Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”

“Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased.

He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.”

We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”

Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left.

“Look closer.”

My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang.

“Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin.

The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot.

“Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.

“Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.”

“How so?”

“Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.”

He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside.

He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles.

“They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said.

A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.”

“Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.”

“Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”

His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him.

I felt him come closer.

“Listen now,” he urged.

I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder.

“Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.”

I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed.

“Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?”

I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous.

“What do you hear?” he urged.

“I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped.

But right when I was about to open my eyes-

I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter.

“Birds?” I opened my eyes.

“Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself.

“Why are there birds?”

“We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.

Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half.

My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.”

“All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes.

“Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.”

“What do you mean?”

She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow.

I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second.

I was naked.

In all of them.

One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.

Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet.

The wine had dropped.

I’d dropped it.

I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb.

“Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked.

I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe.

He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?

The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees.

Because that’s what it was.

An exposure.

A stranger could pay to have me in their home.

The floor spun, vision spotting.

My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly.

“I didn’t want this.”

And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home.

part 22

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nerianasims · 3 years

Text

Billboard #1s 1984

Under the cut.

Yes -- "Owner of a Lonely Heart" -- January 21, 1984

The full version of this song is way too long. Not surprising from a former prog rock band. The music is good and interesting, but it loses me before the end even in the shorter single version. There's too much stuff. As for the lyrics, maybe that prog rock gloss made people think they were profound, but they look like self-help. Some incredibly 80s Reagan-era individualism, better to be alone than to be hurt, you're the only one you can count on, blah blah blah. Not for me. 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Culture Club -- "Karma Chameleon" -- February 4, 1984

The video to this song has nothing to do with it, unless there's supposed to be a connection between the con artist on the fantasy world 19th century steamboat and the guy who keeps coming and going whom Boy George is singing to. And I didn't fully realize the "you come and go" double entendre until just now. I like the video, anyway. And I like the song quite a bit. It's a very cheerful-sounding song about being strung along by some asshole.

Van Halen -- "Jump" -- February 25, 1984

Van Halen was something boys were into. It's weird how we delineate these things. At least back in 1984, if it got coded as a boy thing, then if you were a girl and also found it interesting, you'd damn well better hide it or certain other more socially powerful kids would tear you to shreds. That was my experience, anyway. (And if other girls were into it and you were not, you were also in serious trouble.) So though when I heard Van Halen songs I thought, "hm, I'm intrigued," I did not dare pursue that interest. Except for this song. This one was allowed. It's fun.

Kenny Loggins -- "Footloose" -- March 31, 1984

Footloose is a pretty good movie. At least I remember it being so when I eventually saw it in college in the 90s. Anything that stands against censorship, and for art and people having fun, already has an in with me. Also Kevin Bacon's great. The song isn't about the movie particularly; it's just about how dancing is wonderful. Though there is a hint at the movie: "You're playing so cool/ Obeying every rule/ Deep way down in your heart/ You're burning yearning for some/ Somebody to tell you/ That life ain't passing you by/ I'm trying to tell you/ It will if you don't even try." Yeah. Agatha Christie at one point lamented that young people in the 1950s were far too serious and self-righteous, and really needed to go dance in fountains. I feel the same now as she did then. Though wait until after the covid vaccine's been widely taken. Anyway, this is a good dance song.

Phil Collins -- "Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now)" -- April 21, 1984

It's a lament about being dumped. Apparently, Collins wrote it about his wife leaving him out of the blue, taking the kids and the dog with her. Ouch. There's a great drum part, which keeps the song from being too boring, but I still don't like it. Phil Collins' serious love/heartbreak songs don't do it for me. I find this one depressing without being cathartic.

Lionel Richie -- "Hello" -- May 12, 1984

I remember this video from when it was on the air. Mostly because of the Lionel Richie clay head. But also because I was like... is she his student? Isn't that a bad thing? Even though she's an adult in college, I still thought you weren't supposed to do that? I've had a major squick against teacher/student relationships, even in fiction, since I was a kid. Possibly this is because I come from a family of professors. (I didn't get a PhD and am therefore the black sheep.) Without reference to the video, the song is terrible. The lyrics are just repetitive cheese, whatever, but the song is so slow and blah and I don't like Lionel Richie's singing.

Deniece Williams -- "Let's Hear It For the Boy" -- May 26, 1984

I keep being surprised that there are people who think someone is worthless if they don't have a lot of money and don't dress fashionably. In this song, the titular boy also can't dance, but is that a thing that people get dinged for in reality? I don't know, maybe. This song was in Footloose, and it's the same sentiment as "My Guy"; her boy isn't some smooth-talking rich brat, but "he's my lovin' one-man show." He's like Edward Ferrars, not Willoughby. It's a fun song.

Cyndi Lauper -- "Time After Time" -- June 9, 1984

This is one of the greatest songs ever. Not just pop songs. Any song, of any type.

Duran Duran -- "The Reflex" -- June 23, 1984

These lyrics make no sense. That doesn't matter for this song much, which is all about the music. Which is not the best of Duran Duran's music. For all the many, many, MANY different musical ideas in it, it's actually kinda boring. They'd have done better to simplify. I imagine this sounds something like cocaine feels, though drinking way too many Mountain Dews to pull an all-nighter's my only comparison. Duran Duran were never my favorite, but I do enjoy many of their songs. This one, meh.

Prince -- "When Doves Cry" -- July 7, 1984

Prince only two songs after Cyndi Lauper? Is it my birthday? The song's lyrics start out being about the amazing chemistry between the narrator and "you." That establishes why they're together. Then Prince moves on to how they "scream at each other," and it's what it sounds like "when doves cry." He's accusatory -- "How could you just leave me standing/ Alone in a world so cold?" But then he goes right into thinking maybe it's his fault: "Maybe I'm just too demanding" etc. It's a sexy, thoughtful, and anguished song about a relationship in trouble. I like to think they'll overcome their problems and stop screaming at each other. Trust me, it's very possible. Also the music is great.

Ray Parker Jr. -- "Ghostbusters" -- August 11, 1984

Um. I have no idea how to evaluate this one. I heard it first in the theatre when I saw the movie, but I heard it years after every week when I watched the cartoon. It just... is.

Tina Turner -- "What's Love Got To Do With It" -- September 1, 1984

I have an overwhelming memory of hearing this song when I was alone in the grocery store as a teenager. I have no idea why the memory's so strong. Maybe it was the first time I went to the grocery store by myself? Maybe I ran into a guy I had a huge crush on, though I don't remember that? (If I was 16, that could have been one of any three guys... Romance is my secondary aspiration, after all.) In any case, it's a good song. The attempt to pretend love is a bunch of chemicals and doesn't truly matter is a pretty common one for the broken-hearted. And Tina Turner's great as always.

John Waite -- "Missing You" -- September 22, 1984

Two songs in a row about being in denial over matters of love. Interesting. This isn't the most fascinating song ever, but it's a good solid song about heartbreak that isn't gloopy at all. In the main vocals, Waite keeps insisting "I ain't missing you," but in the background is a soft voice that sings "missing you" over and over. That's a smart artistic move.

Prince and the Revolution -- "Let's Go Crazy" -- September 29, 1984

I liked a lot of pop music when I was 7, but I didn't get Prince. His songs sort of slid out of my brain as a "thing for grownups," and who could understand grownups? He was short and wore fancy outfits, and that's about all that registered. When I hit puberty, though... yeah. This song is more adult than that, though, and I don't mean sexually, though there is plenty of sex in this song. "You better live now/ Before the grim reaper come knocking on your door." The song is about sex, partying, and death. Also Prince was an astonishing guitarist, along with everything else. It's not one of my favorite Prince songs, because the lyrics are pretty depressing and it's super loud, but it's still great.

Stevie Wonder -- "I Just Called To Say I Love You" -- October 13, 1984

I never really listened to the background beep-de-boops in this song before. I've wondered before why this song, with its simple lyrics and melody, didn't bore me. It's the beep-de-boops. They, along with Stevie Wonder's perfect delivery, make this song musically complex. And the simple lyrics, with the more complex musical counterpoints, absolutely work. It helps that this is the kind of thing people really do.

Billy Ocean -- "Caribbean Queen" -- November 3, 1984

That heavy breathing after the line "I get so excited just from her perfume" is unfortunate. Otherwise, it's a song about how he met this "Caribbean Queen" on vacation and she "tamed" him so he's no longer looking for "love on the run." Sure, why not. I'd like a little more story to it, but that's me. It's got a good beat though, and is enjoyable enough as-is.

Wham! -- "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" -- November 17, 1984

I just realized I don't like this song. The beat and hook are sort of irresistible, and as a dance song the music absolutely works. But there's too much nostalgia about stuff that George Michael actually wasn't old enough to be nostalgic about. He was only 21 at the time, born in 1963, and yet he was singing about Doris Day. You can homage anything at any age, but... meh. And speaking of age, it's kind of a childish song and George Michael's voice was always more on the mature end, even if he was young at the time. For me, it hits a jarring note.

Daryl Hall & John Oates -- "Out of Touch" -- December 8, 1984

The beginning makes it sound like this is gonna be a relatively hard rock song, but that ends after a pretty short time. It's still really loud, with huge drums, and Hall pretty much shouts the song. Hall & Oates were great when they stripped stuff down. All this noise doesn't work for them. There are neat parts when all the noise suddenly stops and there's total silence, but then it goes right back to the rather uninteresting loudness. Not for me.

Madonna -- "Like A Virgin" -- December 22, 1984

And so it begins. Backstory: Madonna went to the same high school as my mother. She was friends (maybe more? he won't talk) with one of my uncles. When my grandmother saw the Like A Virgin album on the rack at the store, she said, "I'm so glad [he] didn't marry that girl." When my mother told me that, my reaction was "Are you kidding? We'd be rich!" But my family cares about PhDs and not money. My uncle ran wild in high school, but eventually became a successful career diplomat (and stopped being a jackass) after the woman he was in love with told him he'd better shape up or else. Also he looks a lot like Guy Ritchie, so that was weird for a while. I'd be in the grocery store and for a second think, "Why's my uncle on The Enquirer with Madonna?"

So anyway, the song. The way Madonna sang it in later iterations, I like it. I can't stand the version that became a #1 hit. The Betty Boop voice is just ugh. I love a lot of Madonna's music, and she would be something of an inspiration to me in later days, with her unapologetic persona as a woman who liked and wanted sex -- and enjoyed shocking the censorious -- but I was 8 at the time. I didn't get any of it, I just knew she sounded squeaky in this song and it bugged me.

BEST OF 1984: "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper. WORST OF 1984: "Hello" by Lionel Richie

#billboard number ones

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ziracona · 3 years

Text

Another update because I was really in a groove with it this week.

[Fate Grand Order AU fic] The Kid (pt: 1, … 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, ?)

“Careful. Just because we’ve been doing well so far, don’t let it go to your head,” says Emiya, eyes shut as little geometric patterns run from his palm all along the locked door, unlocking seals. I’m not good at this yet, I know, but I can sense what he’s doing a little—I can tell there’s a lock, and just how much he’s…not breaking, so much as…well, it's weird—I-I’ve never really felt anything like this before, but, we’re really in sync right now, and it’s like he’s….un-stitching a complicated pattern, unravelling a tapestry. Not breaking it. Undoing what was done. I know there must be a reason, because it’s way harder to do that than to break things. I…I really hope, maybe, if he doesn’t have to go do something else, or…or want to leave right away, once this is all done…maybe he can teach me something.

I’d like to know.

Beside me, Billy taking a long look around the hall, and David and Robin are behind us, talking quietly about what Emiya said a minute ago—which, is probably why Emiya just told us all to focus. I can’t blame them though—I keep thinking about it too.

Emiya’s right; security here is crazy. I thought I was gonna die, when I broke in. But right now? Now that I’m paying attention, I hear alarms going off and people shouting, but, it’s in the wrong part of the building—and not just where we launched our diversions when we came in, either. It’s…Weird, it is. And. …And I feel…responsible. I know it’s…it’s probably stupid, but, all of these Heroic Spirits, they contracted with me—I said; ‘Trust me, and I’ll trust you, and we’ll work together,’ and every one of them chose to trust me. I promised to help them, and ground them, and get us all out, so, I feel like I really can’t let anybody down. I want to save all of us, and I want to be okay too, and to get to go home to Mom and Dad and Dao. So I have to work hard, and be smart, and responsible; I have to do this right. I’m not gonna let them all down.

The patterns disappear from the door.

“Guards, heading this way,” says David, eyeing the far hall, “I’ll take care of them.”

“I’ll go with you,” offers Robin.

“Wait,” says Billy, holding up a hand as they start to move. They pause. “Listen.”

I try and listen too, but whatever they can hear, I can’t. They can really hear it though, because their expressions all change. Even Emiya glances over, brow furrowing.

“They left,” says Billy, glancing at me and seeing the look on my face, “Just…all of a sudden. Rerouted fast, like they were…runnin’ towards somethin’.”

“…The second they were about to be in range,” says Robin, expression so similar to Emiya’s knit brow it’s a little funny.

“Someone is definitely doing this,” agrees David, brushing it off as fast as he makes that assessment, “Won’t help us to guess, so we better just keep going, and hope they keep going too.”

“R-Right,” I agree, shaking myself. He’s got a point. Why assume it’s a bad thing when it’s been good so far? Just keep our guards up, and hope. Seems…pretty safe.

“Sounds good to me,” says Emiya, turning back to the door and forcibly activating the automatic switch with brute force. The hinges whine in protest, then the reinforced hulking metal door gives and slides very slowly and unhappily open.

“This room seems especially reinforced,” I note, trying to see past Emiya inside.

“Maybe,” says Emiya, “But I’m not sensing a bounded field like the one David was in. It shouldn’t be difficult for us to get inside a-“

Surprised he’s stopped moving and talking, I almost bump into him and Billy does bump into me, and we both look up to see what’s happened, and I see Emiya’s eyes wide with shock and something else I’m not really sure of—maybe…worry? Or dismay? –locked on whoever is in the room.

As one, Billy and I both turn to look, and I vaguely notice Robin and David doing the same on the other side, and I can’t see so well in the dark from where I am, but I can see enough, and I put a hand over my mouth reflexively. It’s so awful. The smell alone…I. T-There’s someone –there’s a rock, a tall thin one—like a type of gravestone almost, in the middle of the room, and someone is chained to it, arms above their head, sort of stuck standing, and sort of dropping over. And. Th-they, he?, -they have what looks like a spear clean through their stomach, just…hanging there. Th-there’s stuff hanging out of them too, not just blood, a-and- Oh my god oh my god. It’s intestines. Some of them are on the floor. I start to gag and try to fight it back.

God, it looks so awful, so painful. Oh my God this poor person.

Their eyes are shut—they haven’t noticed us at all, or moved—I-I don’t even think I can see them breathing. Oh God, the others said they might start killing the Heroic Spirits here if they figured out what we were doing. They killed them? W-we’re too late? We failed… But— -But. No—no, if they were dead, they’d have vanished. Right? So they must-

“I have this one,” says Emiya, which he’s never said before, striding into the room.

I just stare at him for a second, then my brain comes back to me and I hurry after. “You do?” I ask, “Are you sure? –Are they even alive? -Can we—“ Emiya has a completely unreadable expression on his face, except that whatever else he’s feeling, he’s very intent right now. His eyes are fixed on the person in the center of the room, and as we get closer rapidly, I think I was right, and it’s a man—tall, wearing blue and with blue hair. He still hasn’t moved. I look back up at Emiya. “-h-help him? … Do you know him?”

I’m aware of Billy moving just behind me. I think Robin and David are hanging more back. W-which is good, someone should watch the door. I wish Billy was next to me instead of behind me, though. I don’t know what to do, and I feel like if we were thinking together right now, maybe I might. I…

We reach the man then, and Emiya looks at me for the first time since I started talking and he says nothing at first, then just, “In a way.”

You…know him ‘in a way’? I wish I knew what that means.

The man hanging from the stone is still completely motionless. He’s got dried blood trails from his mouth down his neck, and…a-and some down his legs and stomach, along with…his intestines. Just. H-hanging out. And on the ground… It's okay it’s okay it’s okay—he-he isn’t gonna die if he’s still alive. Billy told you only heads and hearts are connected to their spirit cores right? So it’s not like a human looking like this; we can still save him.

I look at Billy over my shoulder, for reassurance, but his face is pale and a kind of horrified and full of dread like what I’m feeling.

…No. That’s right. I forgot so fast; usually it’s only heads and hearts, but their real deaths in life are an Achilles’ heel too. And…if this guy died being impaled on a spear, which, which it really looks like he must have. Maybe…they…overdid it.

Please be alive, please be alive.

Afraid of the answer, I reach out my hand towards his face, hoping to feel breath on my hand. Emiya has me beat though—same idea but better. His arm goes past mine and he places a hand on the man’s shoulder. I hear him whisper what sounds like ‘Trace on,’ and the little geometric patterns that appear when he does magecraft light up along the man’s body, arcing from his shoulder to his chest. It’s good news, thank god, because Emiya lets out a breath, and for just an instant, I see relief in his face. Then he’s all serious again, and turns to me.

“He’s not dead, but he’s on death’s door. If we remove that spear, he’s going to die. And if we leave him like this, he’s also going to die.”

“But then—we have to try something!” I start.

“I know-” says Emiya like he means it, but whatever he’s about to say after, he doesn’t, because the man in blue stirs, and he stops immediately to look down at him. The man groans weakly, and unconsciously lulls his head a little to the side. Very slowly, I notice his chest begin to rise and fall with enough depth I can actually tell he’s breathing, and there’s movement behind his eyelids, then he slowly blinks, before finally cracking his eyes half-open and looking out blearily at nothing.

Very carefully, Emiya lets go of his shoulder and moves back beside me. The man in blue doesn’t seem to see either of us for a few seconds, then his eyes clear just a little, and he weakly tilts his head up to look at uh.

The instant he does, recognition flashes across his face and his eyes go a Oh fuck kind of wide and become much sharper, and he stares right past me at Emiya in disbelieving, almost offended horror.

D. Do they hate each other?

“Oh, you gotta be fucking-” starts the man in a weak, angry rasp, then surprise and agony wash over his features and his face contorts in pain as he chokes and struggles, then loses the struggle and starts hacking up blood and convulsing. I think it might be the most awful thing I’ve ever seen, and I want to help him, but I’m afraid if I touch him I’m just gonna make it worse so I just stand there watching in horror as he tries to hold back sounds of pain and fights to stop his body from convulsing, each cough aggravating the wound through him in a way I think it would be unfair to describe even as agonizing looking. I. I want to help; I don’t know how. I want to cry. It looks so awful. I try turning to Emiya for help, but he has that almost unreadable expression on his face again. I...there’s something in his eyes like worry, though. I think? Just barely not hidden right. I am at least sure he’s not enjoying watching this at all.

I try looking over at Billy, and realize he’s moved up almost beside me now. He doesn’t seem to know what to do either, but it’s still weirdly reassuring, because even though he still looks worried, he looks a lot less full of dread than he did before, so, that probably means this is a good sign even though it looks terrible, right? I try and hang onto that.

When the wracking coughs stop, the heroic spirit is breathing raggedly, soaked in sweat and fresh blood, head slumped forward in exhaustion. Very slowly, he manages after a second to raise his head to look at us again with bleary eyes, but he doesn’t try to say anything this time, and he can only keep his head up for a second before giving up and hanging limp again.

Like that’s woken him up or something, Emiya blinks, glances at me and says, “Stay here,” then moves up to the man.

The man in blue watches him in silence the best he can with eyes he’s struggling to not let close. Emiya gives him a little nod and says, “Lancer,” like it means something to the other guy that I don’t really understand. I can’t even tell if there’s any kind of positive or negative feeling to the words at all. It’s strange. The way the guy—the Lancer, I guess, looked at Emiya before, I thought he hated him, but I don’t think Emiya hates him. And as soon as Emiya says that, the Lancer almost looks comforted for just a second, or relieved, like there’s a hint of smile on his lips, and I don’t think he’s scared of Emiya at all right now, not even as much as you’d be scared of a stranger if you were hurt like this—he actually gives in and just shuts his eyes then and lets his head hang forward against his chest again after hearing his class as some kind of weird greeting.

I have no idea what any of this means at all.

I guess it doesn’t matter. What matters is getting him out of this.

“Things are fine out here,” comes David’s voice in my head, “No rush yet. We’ll keep you updated. Do you need any help with the Lancer?”

“Not yet,” answers Emiya mentally, not even looking up while he circles the man, taking in the setup and the spear. When he finishes, he glances at him and says, “They should have known better than to do this to someone with a time limit attached to their death. How long have you been here?”

“…Two…and a half…days. …I think,” manages the lancer between ragged breaths, with a voice that’s barely there at all.

This seems to worry Emiya.

“That’s bad?” I ask him, “Not just normal bad, but-?”

He gives me a serious nod.

“Can I help?” I ask. I look down at my right hand. I wasted one spell, hurting Billy on accident. I’d like to use the second for something good. “I could use a command spell.”

“You may have to,” says Emiya quietly, “But not yet. And not without contracting.”

Oh. Right.

The lancer’s brow knits weakly at that, and he turns his head to look at Emiya and then me questioningly for a moment before giving up again and hanging still.

“Lancer,” I say nervously, turning to the man in blue, “Would you accept a contract with me? I pr-“

“-Yes,” he cuts me off.

“… Really?” I ask, “But I didn’t even tell-“

“-Don’t care. Won’t—Can’t. be worse…than this,” manages the lancer between labored breaths, and he musters the strength to open his eyes and give me a very weak wink, “I’d take. …a devil.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling very worried about this man. Emiya moves behind the rock and poises himself to break...something, I’m not sure from where I’m standing. Part of the chains, maybe, and then he pauses and gives me a nod. I reach up and place my hand on the lancer’s. It’s covered in blood. I guess he…fought, before he ran out of strength. Trying to break free. Dried blood. I try not to think about it. I give Emiya a nod and hear something metal snap behind the rock as I turn my focus back to the Lancer and say, “My soul becomes your will, your spirit becomes my destiny. If you agree, accept me and answer my call, Lancer,” maybe too quickly.

“I accept,” comes the lancer’s exhausted voice.

There’s a now familiar feeling, a pulse of mana, and I feel connection like an invisible cord between us.

Heal, heal, heal, heal, I think, extending my hand and focusing all my energy on him, but then Emiya’s hand is on my arm, lowering it, and I look at him in surprise.

“Not yet,” says Emiya gently, “It won’t help him until we get the spear out. You’ll just waste your energy.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling my face heat up. I turn and look worriedly at the lancer, “But. You said he’d die if-“

“I did,” says Emiya with a nod. He straightens up and turns to face the lancer himself. “Lancer?”

The lancer looks up at him with some amount of effort, almost annoyed. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to change the spear into something else,” says Emiya, meeting his gaze before very carefully setting his hand down on the spear shaft, “If it’s not a spear anymore, pulling it out won’t kill you.”

“Yeah?” manages the lancer more happily.

“… But, if I make it smaller, technically, it’ll still be removing the spear. So. I’m going to have to make it just the smallest bit bigger, then pull it out of you.”

“…Ah,” says the lancer much less happily.

“It’s going to hurt like hell,” warns Emiya, closing his fingers around the spear.

“It already does,” replies the lancer quietly. He lets out a breath and shuts his eyes, then gives a nod.

“Wait!” I say, surprised to hear Billy say something at the same time. I’m not sure what it was, but we glance at each other, and Emiya pauses.

“Here,” says Billy, stepping forward and sliding off his belt. He holds it up for the lancer to bite down on, and the man accepts it with a grateful glance. Similar idea, I move up and place my hand on his for moral support. Emiya looks like he’s considering telling me that’s a bad idea, but he changes his mind and doesn’t.

“Okay,” I tell him.

“Brace,” warns Emiya. The lancer does. I hear Emiya whisper what I’m sure this time is ‘Trace on’, and the spear lights up with those geometric patterns again, but this time the whole thing glows, and I watch in surprise as it changes form. The lancer screams in pain through the belt and jerks as the thing through his middle morphs, and then I’m not thinking about anything at all because he’s CRUSHING my hand. I scream too.

The glow stops and Emiya rips the object through his torso out with one clean yank, and the man screams again, and then it’s over and he’s let go of me and I fall to the ground, cradling my hand. Or—I thought I had—Billy comes out of nowhere and catches me, and I realize after it’s been happening for a few seconds that he and Emiya and Robin and David are all asking me if I’m okay.

“I…” I look down at my hand. It’s…broken. How strong IS that guy? He was dead, and he—

“It’s broken,” says Billy out loud.

“It’s okay,” promises David mentally a second before appearing beside us, “I have this. You make sure the lancer doesn’t die,” he tells Emiya, kneeling by me and Billy.

Emiya gives me an almost sorry glance, then David a nod.

“Here,” says David gently, placing his hand on top of mine. He gives me a warm smile. “Quite a break. Looks like we picked up a strong ally, didn’t we?”

Reassured by how calm he is, I choke back tears and give him a nod.

“Don’t worry. You’re not the only one who can heal.” David holds up a hand and a little harp appears out of thin air. He takes a knee and starts to play on it, and it’s the strangest sensation I’ve ever felt. The music is really beautiful—I know I’ve never heard the tune before, but it still feels…emotional, like deep nostalgia. And I at once feel comforted, and calm, and not worried or sad at all. I feel okay. And as I do, I feel a sensation like putting your hand in cool water after burning it run along my right hand, and I watch in wonder as the bones in my palm set themselves, and the pain vanishes.

“H. How did you do that?” I ask him in amazement, holding up my hand and turning it.

“I was blessed to have skill that helped people through music on a kinnor in life,” says David, still smiling, “And if anything it has only gotten stronger after death.”

“That’s amazing,” I say without thinking, “Can you teach me?”

He looks incredibly tickled and gets an very interesting look on his face for a moment, then says, “I’m not sure. I’ve never tried. But maybe.”

Right. Stupid! You barely know him and he probably can’t teach you to have magic Heroic Spirit powers, Ritsuka!

“Better?” he asks, standing and holding out a hand. I nod and take the hand, and he and Billy help me up.

“Yeah, good as new, actually,” I say, surprised, flexing my fingers. I look over at Emiya and the lancer then. The lancer isn’t moving at all and his eyes are shut, his body hanging limply. “…Is he okay?” I ask worriedly.

“Well, he’s alive,” says Emiya. He removes his hand from the lancer’s stomach and I see the wound is gone.

“You healed him?” ask, amazed. How many healers do we have?

“Not…healed as such,” says Emiya with a grimace. He summons the little curved swords, or, big daggers—whatever they are—that he uses so much, and slashes through the chains holding the lancer up, then catches him as he falls and slings his body over a shoulder, and turns to me. “I closed the wound forcibly, but it’s more like I stopped the damage from getting worse than actually healed any of the damage.”

“Oh, I guess I should then,” I say, walking over, “Or David.”

Emiya looks like he’s going to say something again, then doesn’t. Instead he says, “…Sure.”

I put my hand on the unconscious lancer’s, and focus all my energy into trying to heal him. I picture holding my hand out, and feel it work a little. Feel some mana leave me and pass to him. It’s still…really hard to do this, if I’m honest. I feel like I ran up two flights of stairs every time I try. But I’m getting it! And that’s all that matters.

When I open my eyes, though, the man is still unmoving, just hanging there unconscious.

“…Did it not work?” I ask nervously.

“No, it did,” says Emiya, “He’s just got…a rather complicated wound.”

“I can try,” says David. He summons his harp—kinnor? again, and starts to play. Just being near it, I feel better again myself. David gets a strange look on his face, though, and gives Emiya a worried glance, still playing. Emiya returns it, and I think…I think they said something to each other, mentally, but…didn’t tell me? …Why?

“Well,” says David, cheerful again, “That’s the best I can do for now. I think he’ll wake up in a little bit, but he might not be the most useful in battle right now.”

“That’s okay,” I say, unsettled by whatever just happened, “So long as he’s okay.”

“We good to keep moving?” asks Robin mentally from the door.

“Yes,” replies Emiya the same way, “We can get going.”

“Who’s your friend?” asks Robin out loud as we join him.

“A lancer,” replies Emiya. There’s a weird moment between them then I don’t really understand. Emiya looks…like he’s not sure he believes Robin doesn’t know who it is, and Robin seems a little irritated by that. Gives the lancer another hard look. And there’s…recognition then? But not like with Emiya, when he saw the lancer. It’s…a weird mix of recognition and confusion, and he looks away.

I wish I knew what to do when you guys were weird about each other.

Emiya glances over at me and I think misinterprets why I look the way I do, because he relents a little and says, “I can tell you who he is, but that would probably piss him off; he’d want to do it himself.”

“Oh, I can wait—I mean, unless knowing would help us help him right now,” I say, surprised.

“I don’t think it would matter right now,” says Emiya.

“I’ll wait then,” I say.

“We only got two left, right?” says Billy, “We know where they are yet?”

Every single spirit stops. I have no idea why—I don’t sense or hear anything, but. Their faces; I know whatever it is it’s-

“Nobody move,” says Emiya in my head.

Nobody does.

“What is,” that, comes Billy’s voice mentally. He sounds…scared?

“Whatever it is, they summoned it. Which means they know we’re here, and what’s happening,” says David mentally.

“They summoned something?” I ask in my head, “To fight us?”

That’s. Wait, that’s weird. I hear…ringing in my ears all of a sudden. It’s kind of painful.

Emiya get’s a look on his face like Oh God please no.

“What? What is it?” I ask mentally, really worried now, “There’s six of us now—five of you are heroic spirits! Even with the lancer out right now, we-“

There’s a loud CRUNCH from above us and the ringing in my ears is suddenly unbearable. It sounds like…

“Is that…rattling?” comes Billy’s voice in my head.

Something massive comes plummeting through the floor above and slams down into the hallway behind us, and the second there’s little enough dust in the air I can see at all I am looking at a skull so big it could eat me, with big white eyes like it has ones made out of glowing bones, and it’s looking at me, and the ringing is louder and I realize it’s coming from its teeth, and I know suddenly, I know what that is. It’s shifting its shoulders and torso in the tight fit even this huge hall is for something its size, and I know I’m looking at-

“GASHADOKURO!” yells Robin at the top of his lungs, and I swear I feel my heart stop.

“Are they out of their FUCKING minds!” shouts Emiya, turning and running. He moves to get me with his free arm, but Billy snags me first, and all of a sudden we’re all moving faster than I have ever gone before—so fast I can barely see.

That’s insane! That’s insane! Why would they summon a yokai! It’ll eat them too; it’ll never stop! I don’t understand; oh god we’re all going to die.

I didn’t think they were real I didn’t think they were real I didn’t—I—I’m terrified. You can’t kill those! You can’t! They just go on until they run out of energy!

Oh god, it’s coming after us. The massive skeleton with its horrible eyes is crawling through the hall, and it’s still looking at me; why me?

“Shit!” shouts Robin as we round a corner so fast Billy and David both leap and shove off the wall, trying to bank as fast as we’re moving, “It wants the kid!”

“Because she’s human!” shouts back Emiya, furious, “They’re trying to kill our Master so we burn out!”

“I should have realized—when there were no people on the floor,” David calls, and I hear him saying something in a language I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure he’s cursing.

“Well we’ll just have to fucking kill it!” shouts back Billy, “How do you kill one?”

“You can’t!” Emiya and I shout back at the same time.

The gashadokuro reaches the hall we just turned onto and crawls after us. How is it MOVING that fast! It has to mess up the walls to move at all, but it’s crawling so fast we’re not losing it! They can’t move that fast! Nothing should be able to keep up with a heroic spirit!

“Well we’re gonna have to invent a way!” replies Billy, doing the same no-time-to-slow leap onto a wall, run a few seconds, then back to the floor bank he did before as we reach another hall.

“They vanish if they run out of energy!” I call, because I am all about finding any way to end that thing.

Oh god, what if it gets outside? H-how could they do this! I’m barely a mage, and I know one of the cardinal rules of magecraft is not to let other people know about it, and they’re risking a monster to beat all monsters getting out, in the middle of the city? How bad do they not want to lose these trapped spirits! That’s insane! How can ANY amount of money possible be worth unleashing a gashadokuro onto the city to anybody!

“Like this, I’m not sure if we can run it out of energy before we do,” calls back Emiya, “But we can try—Billy, take her and get her out of here, and we’ll try and burn it out-“

“—No!” I snap, “That’s a terrible idea! I don’t care if you’re heroic spirits, I’m not leaving you with a gashadokuro while I run and hide!”

“It doesn’t want us unless we’re with you,” replies Emiya pleadingly, “It’s safer for all of us if you-“

Something shoots up through the floor and I hear Billy cry out in pain and see Emiya’s expression turn into a mixture of anger, shock and horror, and then I feel something hit me and I look down and see a skeletal hand. I. I don’t know if it moved somehow, or if this means there’s two. But it’s beneath us, coming up through the floor. I see a giant skeletal hand close around us. And I’m remembering they crush you to death and bite off your head. It’s starting to squeeze. And then I hear Billy shout something—it’s not Thunderer. It’s something else. But I feel a surge of energy ripped out of me. We’re not in its hand anymore somehow. We’re above it, in the air. I don’t know how we got out. I’m confused, and I feel faint. I feel…Billy’s hand around mine. He raises his gun and I do hear him call the name of his noble phantasm this time, and the hand shatters into shards of bone beneath us, and immediately starts to regrow.

Something’s wrong though. I feel sick. And. The newest one—the lancer. he’s…He’s still hanging over Emiya’s shoulder. I can see Emiya firing shots from his bow, at the one behind us. Oh god, there are two of them then. Emiya looks okay. But. The lancer. He's…transparent.

Oh no. I’m using up too much mana, I think faintly. I try really hard to focus. What did Billy do that got us out and made me feel like this? Or was it one of the others.

We land, and Billy trying to carry me and shoot at the same time, dealing with the one in the floor. Everyone in the building must know where we are now. The monster’s head comes up and it tries to bite us, and Billy chucks me like a baseball, and Robin catches me out of the air and we vanish.

“You okay?” I hear his voice worriedly in my head.

“No, stop,” I plead. I don’t think I’m crying, but I sound like I am. “I’m okay. Don’t use your invisibility on me—help them fight. I can do it! I can! I can keep all of you up!”

I’m trying so hard to focus on my connection to the lancer. I wish I knew his name; I wish I knew it. I know it wouldn’t matter, but I feel like it would. I feel like if I could keep thinking it, it would anchor him better. Come on. Don’t die, Lancer. Stay up, stay up.

“I know you can,” says Robin quietly in my head, “But none of us are exactly fighting at our best right now. One of our tankiest spirits is unconscious, and the other’s basically a walking glass canon. David and I can’t do a lot without risking vanishing, and Billy just overextended himself. I’m amazed your conscious at all after supporting all of us and a noble phantasm. We need to pull back.”

“But we can’t leave anyone here,” I whisper.

“I know we can’t,” says Robin, looking down at me with sympathy. The others are all so fast. I can barely see them move, and Robin says this is them fighting at a disadvantage. “But right now we don’t have a plan. We need to get away from those things, and think.”

He has more to say, but there’s suddenly the sound of an alarm. Lights start flashing on the ceiling above us, we both look up in shock as the security doors all along the hall close. One tries to slam on the gashadokuro in the hall and can’t, but seems to sort of pin it down, even if only momentarily. Another shuts between us and everyone else.

“No, no, no!” I say, struggling to sit up. I almost black out, but I make it to my knees. Robin is up with me, a hand on my shoulder, staring too. “We have to get back in there—you can help them!” I say. Above and below us, I suddenly hear faint voices shouting and screaming. People? Some of the staff?

Robin hesitates, agitated. Looks from me to the others, struggling to fight off two of those things. “No,” he decides, “No—we can’t leave you alone. It’s what they want.”

“But look!” I say, pointing, “They’re not coming! They aren’t even looking at me anymore. If they let one of those loose in the building, it must mean they have a way not to get killed themselves, right? I’m barely a mage, but I can tell there’s a shield on the doors—there has to be! Otherwise the one on its belly would have snapped through them the second they closed. Those things haven’t taken their eyes off me since they appeared, and I’m like thirty feet away, and neither of them is even looking in my direction! I’ve got to be right. Aren’t I?”

I point at the door, daring to be proved wrong. Robin grimaces and looks at the security door. He moves over and puts his hand on it and shits his eyes, then looks at the bone monsters, and back at me. “Doesn’t matter,” he says with less conviction, but a lot of worry, “It’s stupid to leave you alone.”

Behind him, I see Billy swatted into a wall so hard it dents, and Robin sees my expression and turns to look too. He gets up, firing, but he’s bleeding.

There’s indecision on Robin’s face. They’re struggling. He knows it; I know it.

“Robin, please,” I say, “I’ll be right here, just through the door. We need to have a plan; I have one! People are screaming—that means they’re freaking out. Emiya said he thinks someone is helping us, or, is using us to try and sabotage Ur-shanabi. If people are worried when the doors changed, it means the person probably opened the ones keeping those stuck on our level, right? If we can lead them up or down, then they’ll have to un-summon it, to protect themselves! We won’t have to kill it.”

“What if they don’t have a way to,” counters Robin. Behind us, David narrowly misses being bitten in half, and takes a shot at one of their skulls with a slingshot. It takes out an eye-socket, which immediately reforms.

“Would you summon a monster that eats people that can’t be killed without some plan to get out of it if things went wrong?” I ask.

Robin makes a face. He looks back at the others. One of the gashadokuro’s makes a grab for Emiya and almost gets the lancer as he ducks, but he manages to roll out of the way and keep his grip on the unconscious body, a barrage of swords appearing out of thin air and slamming into the thing to push it away from him as he does.

“…Fine! Fine,” snaps Robin, turning to me, “You’re not a bad strategist, and it’s a better plan than whatever those idiots are doing. Worst case, they have no plan, but the gashadokuro become their problem for a minute, buying us some time.”

Wait I don’t want people to get eaten though.

“Don’t give me that look,” he says, stressed, “I’ll do what I can! I know you don’t want people to die, but look at that thing! . … Okay! I’ll try—we’ll try.”

I give him a watery smile.

He sighs, then takes my right hand with fervor and kneels, giving me the most intense look he ever has. “Listen to me. You have two command spells left. I’m not going out there unless you swear to me. On everything you have ever cared about—the second you think you even maybe aren’t safe out here alone, while we’re doing that, you will use one of those spells to call us to your side to save you. You don’t wait till there’s no option, you don’t try to force your way though it. The second you think you might need one of us, you call us. I do not want you to die because I left you alone. I need you swear this to me, okay?

I stare at him.

He sighs, and puts a hand on my shoulder kindly, giving me a worried almost smile. “Ritsuka, trust goes both ways. You want us to trust you to be okay while we do this, we will. But only if we can trust you’re not going to throw your life away on something stupid. You can’t die on us. We all die too. And on top of that, none of us wants you dead. You have to take your own life seriously. Hero shit isn’t being careless, or stupid. ‘I might be okay’ isn’t what it is. There’s a big difference between knowing you take out something and die, or everyone does, and flinging yourself at the first dangerous thing you see because it might be better for someone.”

“Okay,” I promise, taking that to heart, “I promise. If I get scared, or think I’m in trouble at all, I promise. I’ll call for you.”

Robin looks into my eyes, checking to make sure he believes me I think. I’m not lying, though, and I think he sees that. He smiles and pats my head, then hesitates. Reconsidering, he takes off his cloak, then reaches up and removes the scrunchie I’m using for my little side ponytail. “I need something that smells more human than me,” he offers by way of explanation with a smile, holding it up. I give a nod. He slides it around his wrist, and then puts his cloak over my shoulders and slides the hood up. “Here,” he says, giving me a smile that’s still a little worried, even though he’s trying to hide, “Unless you attack something or use magic, you’re pretty much impossible to see or sense so long as you keep that on. It’ll keep you safe if something happens to the door. Don’t take it off.”

“But. Don’t you need it?” I ask. The fabric of the green cloak is worn and rugged, but it somehow still feels comforting, almost soft. Like…a well-worn favorite jacket does. It feels safe inside it. Like hugging your mom and dad.

“For this?” says Robin with a snort. He straightens up and tugs an arm behind his back, making a show of stretching, and cracks his neck as he moves over towards the door, “No. I only need it for serious threats.” He gives me a smile over his shoulder, then vanishes into spirit form, reappearing on the other side of the barrier near Billy, launching a barrage of arrows at the nearest monster. I hear them in my head, going over the same plan I gave to Robin, and to my relief, they take it. Billy fires a barrage of bullets into one of their faces, then runs dangerously close, before leaping up, shooting a hole through the floor, and vanishing into the next story up. Emiya fires a similar barrage at the one near him while David breaks a hole in the floor above, and Robin, scrunchie still around his wrist, rushes dangerously close to both, trying to rub off the scent, before vanishing up one of the holes, followed by David and Emiya. Agitated, both gashadokuros follow them, ripping absolutely terrifying paths into the ceiling as they go.

Robin’s cloak wrapped around my shoulders, hood up, I make it to my feet and watch, kind of stunned. I hear lots of noise from above, but it’s hard to tell what’s going on. I focus on the connections, and I know they’re all still alive right now. So that’s good.

It's…funny. I wasn’t scared at all to be alone until I was, but now that it’s quiet on this floor, and I’m alone, I feel…vulnerable. Isolated. Defenseless.

I hold up my hand and look at the command seals there. Two left.

It’s okay. You can call for help if you need it, and Robin said they’ll appear right at your side, but right now you don’t need that. You’re okay. You have Robin’s cloak, and nobody can see you. You just need to wait, and trust they can do this, and keep giving them energy. You can do that.

Behind me, there’s a sound. I spin on my heel, terrified, but it’s just the Slick of an automated door opening.

Wait. That’s not normal at all.

I’m alone. Why would?

Trying to think fast, I dart to the side of the wall and press against it. It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay. You’re invisible.

The door that opened is about eleven doors further down the hall, at basically the far range of what I can see.

Nothing comes out.

After a few seconds, the door shuts again. Then opens. Stay open. Shuts partially, opens again.

What the…heck?

It closes. Then opens again. Partially closes, opens. Partially closes, opens. Closes fast. What? It. It’s…a pattern?

I try to focus. Wait for it to start over. Open. Close. Long pause. Open, partially close, open, patially close, open, close, partially close, open. Long pause.

It’s – it’s dashes and dots?

Nope—no—no way! I have to be safe right now, and stay put. I am not engaging. I don’t know what this is, or if whoever has been interfering with, or, helping—I’m not really sure anymore—us wants? But I can’t. I can’t do that right now. I have to sit here, and just stay safe.

….

It keeps happening. I close my eyes and try to focus on my connections, trying to make sure everyone is okay. Try to shut out the sound of the door opening and closing.

Finally, when I can’t take it, I look over at it in distress.

It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter what you want me to do; I can’t do it! Please stop!

The door does not stop.

Chewing myself out internally for doing this, I take my phone out and look up a Wabun chart, because I have no idea how to translate on my own. Wait for a pause I can tell is the end of a letter.

‘---.-‘ ---that’s… ‘Su’. ‘-.--’ is…’Ke’? …Wait. ‘.-.--’ Thanks… ‘Te’. It goes again. Just a single long open, quick close. ‘-.’ ‘Ta’.

Oh no. I wasn’t at the start of the word, and I know what the person moving the door is saying. They’re saying ‘Tasukete’. They’re saying, ‘Help me.’

But I can’t, I think desperately, squeezing my eyes shut, I can’t I can’t I can’t! I have to stay put, and stay safe, I’m sorry; I’m sorry! I can’t, I promised Robin I’d be safe!

I can still hear the door. Someone who doesn’t know me at all is trying so hard.

So hard.

…It might be a trap. It’s probably a trap. But. It’s gotta be the same person who closed the doors and opened the ones on the other floors, right? That helped us. It’s…it’s probably still them, and someone has kind of been helping us, or, Emiya thought so. Maybe it’s real—maybe. Maybe somebody needs help in there.

I know, I know, I know it’s stupid but.

The door keeps making it’s slow Slick and Thump sounds, and I’m hearing it as ‘Help’ over and over in my head now that I know what it says. ‘Help me, help me, help me.’

I…

I. …

Chest full of guilt and anxiety, wishing anybody at all was with me, I push off the wall and turn slowly towards the door.

You don’t have to do this.

I take a step.

You know it’s stupid. You know it’s dangerous.

I take another.

Why are you doing this! Why? You know it could be a trap!

I know it could be, but I keep going, slowly.

Why?

Because. …Because somebody might be in trouble, somebody I could help right now. Because somebody might be in trouble. Somebody I could help right now. If some stranger has been helping us, which I really think they have, then, …I think that means we can trust them. Right? And they think I can help, they think I need to help right now. And. And if someone is in trouble, and I walk away, I’d regret that.

I hesitate a few steps from the door, second-guessing myself now that it’s time to really make a choice.

You’re still invisible. It’s okay. If anything happens, you can just call them. Right?

Eyes on my two remaining command spells, I raise my hand and close my fingers into a fist.

Right.

I close the distance to the door and stop on the threshold, breathing shaky.

Okay. You asked for help, and I came. What do you need?

I forget that since whoever is doing this can’t see me, they won’t know to stop the door, and still repeating its pattern, it starts to shut on me, and not wanting to be hit by it, I hop over the doorway into the room.

And realize I was wrong about whoever is out there knowing where I am, because the second I do that, the door slams shut behind me, and I hear it lock.

#fate go fic #fate go AU #the kid (fic)#fate go #the kid #ritsuka fujimaru #fate billy the kid #archer emiya #fate robin hood #fate king david #cu chullain #fate #writing #I'll update this to AO3 once my notes are ready...fun yokai stuff this time #I love the first thing my Beta reader said was 'So is it just me? Or is Robin...kinda hot.' incredible

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cenestpasmoi-bechloe · 4 years

Text

Wherever you may go, wherever you may be, I will never be far away

Beca has been exhausted with work and overtime in order to provide nice things for Chloe, and pay the bills, etc. When Beca comes home at around 11pm, she finds Chloe curled up on the couch after attempting to wait for Beca. Beca becomes very very soft. :)

Title from Billy Joel's Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel).

Thank you to the anonymous donor for participating in the Pitch Perfect Fandom Drive! This fic is gifted from anon to @green-eyed-weirdo on Tumblr.

Thank you for contributing! Also, happy belated birthday to @green-eyed-weirdo !

I hope you enjoy it and I apologize for taking so long!!

For more info on how to help, visit the @ppfandomdrive page.

Read on Ao3

Beca is exhausted. She’s been working her ass off at Capital records, trying to make a name for herself, and to provide for her small family of three.

Her girlfriend Chloe, herself, and their newest addition, their rescue puppy they had named Chase, because of how he had chased Beca around the first time she saw him. He was a mix of a Collie and something else they couldn’t figure out, but he was the cutest dog ever. At least that was what Chloe had said, and Beca had come to understand it.

But she would never admit that to Chloe. But that dog was damn adorable.

They live in a nice 2 bedroom apartment in Pomona, CA where Chloe can go to Vet school, at Western University of Health Sciences, and Beca can commute to her office. Chloe has two more years of school, and she’s going to become a Vet after that, but while she goes to school, Beca is the main source of income. They weren’t broke, but they weren’t rich either, and they tried their best to keep it that way. Chloe worked at a Veterinary Clinic near the school, and helped pay the apartment rent. Although Beca had insisted that she didn’t have to, Chloe had somehow convinced her. And Beca couldn't say no to Chloe Beale.

They had started dating after the USO tour, after Beca had gotten signed to Capitol, and Chloe had been accepted into WesternU, when Beca finally decided to sack up and tell the ginger her feelings.

Their move to California was scheduled around the same time, and having lived in Brooklyn together before, and having started dating, they had mutually decided that moving-in together was a good idea. Her workplace was not too far from where Chloe was going to go to school, and it being cheaper to live in a bigger apartment in Pomona than being crammed in a small apartment in Hollywood, they had chose to live near WesternU. They had started out living in different rooms at first, but found themselves sleeping better, and much more comfortable together in Beca’s room, and they had transferred Chloes old room into a guest room/Beca’s studio when she needed to work from home, or she wanted to work from home.

Beca usually has work with her clients until 7pm, then edit and work on other things until around 10 and then finally, head home. The drive was about 30 minutes, 45 minutes tops, and she would get home at around 11. She had her days off on Wednesdays, and Saturdays and Sundays were half days, or she would sometimes have the weekends off. She always tried to spend more time with Chloe, and she tried to keep a no-work-at-home policy although there were exceptions. That was easy since she had a girlfriend who she could barely say no to.

Tonight was one of those late nights.

The wifi stopped working, and then there was the printer jamming incident, and then had to make sure her emails were sent to her boss about the new client. She finishes up around a quarter to 11, and she gets in her car, sending a quick text to Chloe, telling her that she’d be heading home now. She doubted that she was still awake though since when she gets home at 10:30, she’s usually getting ready for bed, and on days like this, she’s usually fast asleep on Beca’s side of the bed. She drives home, and gets home at about a quarter past 11.

She unlocks the door quietly, and then opens the door slowly, making sure she doesn’t wake up Chloe, who is probably in another room. She just wanted to be safe, just in case. And then Chase comes trotting over to the door, welcoming her home.

“Shhhh… don’t wake mommy up okay?” She says as she crouches down to pet the puppy.

She sees that the light is still on in the room and looks up, seeing her girlfriend curled up on the couch, asleep.

She’s wearing Beca’s gray Bellas sweater, the one that was originally Chloe’s, she stole it somewhere around her sophomore year when she started living in the Bellas house. She had declared that it was hers now, and Chloe had allowed her to keep it all through the years, and now, Chloe’s back to wearing it again. She smiles, walks to the couch, and sits on the floor to kiss the ginger’s cheek.

“I’m home baby.” She says cupping her cheek and kissing her on the lips.

Chloe flutters open her eyes, and wakes up, looking sleepy as heck as she looks at Beca. “I was waiting for you to come home. “She yawns and stretches, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

“Sorry I’m late. I was supposed to leave earlier, but a lot of things happened, I can explain tomorrow. “ She smiles and pecks Chloe’s forehead.

“It’s okay. Did you have dinner?” The ginger asks her as she sits up and stretches her arms.

“No. But I’m not that hungry though.”

“Becaaaaa…. you have to eattttt…”Chloe says to her as she gets up. “I have some leftovers I can heat up.”

“No it’s fine. I’m fine. I’m gonna take Chase out before I get ready for bed. Wait for me in bed?” She asks the ginger, getting up and leaving her bag and taking her jacket off, leaving it on the couch. “Chase. Let’s go out. Bathroom time. “ She says to the dog and he runs to the door excitedly.

“Okay fineee, but I’m coming with you two. I don’t wanna be left behind.” She says with a pouty face as she grabs the leash off the hook.

“Okay then, let’s go.” She takes the leash from the ginger, and connects it to Chase’s collar. “Mommy’s coming with us too.”She smiles, holding onto the leash. Chase jumps up and down excitedly, “I know bud, I’m happy that she’s coming with us too.”She says to the pup and pats him on the head.

“Let’s go!” The redhead returns to the living room, and they both walk out the door, letting Chase mark his territory around the complex, while Chloe and Beca talk about their day, holding hands and walking together.

“Jill keeps texting her boyfriend at work, and she’s always on her phone. I don’t understand how she still has a job.”Beca giggles as she talks about her day.

“I’m sure you’re like that sometimes, I swear, sometimes my phone doesn’t stop vibrating with texts from you.”The redhead jokes, holding Beca’s spare hand which isn’t holding Chase’s leash. The summer breeze makes it a bit chilly, and Chloes glad that she wore her hoodie.

“Oh, I’m not that bad!” Beca exclaims in her quiet nighttime voice, “But I also can’t resist my girlfriend sending me sexy snaps in the middle of the day.”She smirks, squeezing the gingers hand for a moment. Beca had to make sure she had set her notifications to be private, she had that one incident when she almost showed her girlfriend on Airplay at a work meeting. From then on, she knew to keep her notifications discreet. She didn’t need anyone seeing her messages. “I swear to god I almost died when I accidentally opened my Snapchat from you during a meeting. I made it just in time but that was so dangerous.”

“That was because you sent me a raunchy text baby. It’s all your fault. “Chloe scoffs.

“I could’ve been fired!” She whisper yells, raising both her occupied arms up.

“Oh stop exaggerating!”The ginger laughs.

"Oh I'm totally getting back at you for that time!"She jokingly says, pointing at Chloe. "I'm gonna do something to make you so horny that you'll have to take a break, no take the day off!"

"Oh, try. You'll never be able to do that. Remember who always loses the no touching challenge?"

"..um... you?..."

"Oh you wish."Chloe giggles, kissing her nose and running ahead of them. "You can't catch me!!"

"H-Hey!! Chloooooo!"Beca follows along with Chase, but it looks like Chase is taking poor Beca on a run.

“Hey Bec?” Chloe says as they make their way back into the house, unhooking Chase’s leash off of him and letting him run inside.

“Huh?”Beca looks at the ginger, closing the door behind and then making sure it’s locked.

“I love you.”She says, her smile soft and genuine.

These are the moments that make Beca’s heart pound like crazy. Like how did she deserve this angel? How? “I love you too.” She repeats back, kissing the ginger and wrapping her arms around her. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”she mumbles into Chloes shoulder as they awkwardly toddle over to the couch and fall onto it.

“Everything Bec. You’re amazing. I wonder if I ever deserve you. You spoil me too much baby. “She chuckles as she kisses her forehead.

“And you tease me too much.”Beca jokes, and she earns a light slap from the ginger. “Heyyy! Thats not fair!”

“Its fair alright, I tease you because you’re just too damn adorable.”

“Am not! I’m not adorable! I’m badass!” She says as she tries to pry herself away from Chloe, but her girl is too strong, making her stuck in Chloe’s embrace.

“Okay, okay, whatever you say cutiehead.”She giggles, kissing her right on the cheek.

“Ugh, I hate you.”Beca pouts jokingly.

“You do not hate me. Exaggerator!”She kisses her cheek again, this time much more like a wet-grandma-like kiss.

“Ewwwwww… you kiss like a grandma! My cheek is wet!”Beca complains, wiping it off with her arm.

“Want me to do it again?”Chloe asks, going in for the kiss again, but Beca’s hand stops it from reaching her cheek. “Noooooooooh!” Her lips get closer again.

“I don’t hear a please Beca.”Chloe teases, getting even closer.

“NOooooooh!”

“C’mon Beca. Just one word baby.”

“Okay fine! Please stop!” Beca gives up and Chloe’s lips retrieves.

“See? That wasn’t so hard? Was it Beca? When you’re a good girl, you get your way, or can get things faster.”She winks. “But when you’re a bad girl, you don’t get your way, and sometimes you can get more pain or teasing from it. “She lowers her hand down to Beca’s ass and squeezes it, making Beca wince. She had been a bad girl in bed last Saturday, and the pain was much better but its still hurt a bit. But that story’s for another day.

“Can we go to bed? I’m really tired. Like exhausted.”Beca asks her girlfriend, looking up at her with pouty eyes.

“Okay. Let’s get to bed, really tired. I don’t know where my Beca went though.”She jokes and giggles, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom.

“Its almost 12. Which means it’s already tomorrow, and now we don’t have anymore time to sleep…”Beca mumbles as she walks into the closet and gets changed into her pajamas, an oversized teeshirt, which is of corse Chloe’s, and plops down on the bed.

“You’re okay. C’mere baby.”Chloe says as she lifts the comforter up and slides in, waiting for Beca to do the same.

Beca yawns as she gets in and curls up close to Chloe, her bing the little spoon and Chloe being the big spoon. “I love you.” She closes her eyes, and lets Chloe wrap her body around hers, feeling safe and comfortable.

“You’re quite the over thinker, aren’t you baby.”Chloe chuckles as she peppers kisses all over Beca’s head, and then starts running her fingers through Beca’s hair, allowing her to relax.

“But it’s true though, i.....”

“Shh… baby. Stop talking and calm down.” The ginger says gently and kisses her head once again.

Beca’s train of thoughts don’t stop though,she stops talking but the thoughts in her mind keep running, and she can't seem to stop them. She thinks about how perfect her life is, with Chloe and Chase, and how she want to pop the question soon. How she's gonna do that, what say to ask Stacie to help her pick the engagement ring, and then how the wedding is gonna be, how she's gonna tell the Bellas, and on and on and on and....

“Beca. Turn off your thoughts. I can still hear the gears turning.”Chloe says.

"I'm no...."

"Save the questions and the thoughts for another day Becs. " She rubs her arm.

“Mkay….night...”Beca mumbles, turning and facing Chloe’s body, curling up once again as she rubs her back.

It can wait another day.

She soon relaxes and lets sleep take over, feeling safe and sound in Chloe’s arms.

Chloe kisses the sleeping brunette's head for the last time before she falls asleep.

“Good night, my angel.”

#pitch perfect fan drive #bechloe #fluff #ppfandomdrive #I hope you like it!#happy belated birthday

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