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#Probably my last post till I have to go and it’s a punch to the gut lmao
segasys · 3 months
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This comic viciously snapped me in two and tore out all that’s left of me from my corpse and I love it for it, genuine tears and choking up rn dear lord.
I am a big fan of watership down, huge fan, and so I went into this comic wondering if it would be like watership… I won’t say much ofc, but it’s a pretty quick read, and it has ruined me.
completely worth checking out, and I could give praise to the way it’s written and drawn, but then I wouldn’t get any sleep, if I still can after reading this. Please check it out, and if you do, I’d love to hear your thoughts and talk about it!!
I love rabbits🥺
Adding to say: yes there is animal death, please be careful and take care of yourself. It’s pretty dark.
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giowritess · 2 months
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fortnight [4]
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gif by @dameronscopilot
pairing | Benny Miller x female!reader [Grace Stratford] summary | you somehow end up pretending to be Benny's girlfriend for two whole weeks. is your heart going to survive that? probably not. warnings | making out, mention of certain body parts and i think thats all? word count | 1,4k author's note | im SO sorry that i took so long to post this!! my 3rd year (from 4!! almost over) of college has recently started and besides that i spent a full week from dusk till dawn on an archaeological expedition and i was so tired that i completely forgot that i already had this piece all done and ready. i particularly liked this piece very much heheh this series is slowly reaching its end, i think we'll have 2 or 3 more pieces at least. after that, i'm planning on some rick flag, bucky barnes and will miller one-shots for the future, so if you enjoy my writing, be sure to stick around, maybe activate notifications, send asks, anything! and in case you're wondering: yes i do take requests thank you very much. a sweetheart also known as @igotmajordaddyissues asked if i had a taglist and i don't, but here you are, one just for you. <3 as always, english isn't my first language and this wasn't proofread. anyway, i hope you enjoy it. kisses from gio! part three | masterlist | main masterlist
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You didn't mean to. Truly, you hadn't meant at all to do that. But that was how you wake up: face pressed against his naked chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your torso and both your legs tangled together.
Sleep had caught up so quickly on you last night that you had no recollection of him going to bed.
“Don't even think about getting up,” Bemy grumbled from where his head was tucked on top of your head. “Too damn early.”
True. From the closed blinds you could barely see the first glimpses of the day sky trying to infiltrate the room.
“How'd y'know I was awake?” You asked. He wasn't even looking at you.
“Because when you were asleep you weren't so stiff in my arms,” he replied, moving a bit so he could look at you, and damn. The moment his eyes found yours, it was as if someone had punched all air out of your lungs.
How was it possible for him to look even prettier like this, fresh from sleep, with glossy eyes and tousled hair? It wasn't fair. At all.
Him looking like that made you start to imagine things. Things like how he'd look after a long night of fucking. How his hair would look after hours of your fingers running through it, tugging at his roots.
“Why’d'you run away from me last night?”
That was the last thing you expected him to ask.
"I didn't run away from you,” you quickly replied, averting your eyes when his gaze got too heavy. “I was just tired.”
He didn't buy it, and you knew.
Benny chuckled, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “Yeah, right,” he murmured.
The truth was, you didn't know, either. Everything was so damn confusing that you had to constantly remind yourself it was all a farce. But maybe it was time to say to Hell with it and let loose. You looked at him again and found his eyes already on you.
“We're having fun, right?” Benny asked. Was that... concern in his voice? Or even, if you squinted, a tiny bit of insecurity?
How on Earth could you not be in love with him?
Yeah. To Hell with it.
“Yeah. Course we are,” you replied, smiling at him, and he smiled back. “Now shut up, 'cus we still got a few hours of sleep.”
He chuckled, apparently content with your answer, and resumed his previous position, tucking his head on top of yours and tugging you even closer.
Dying suffocated in Benny Miller's chest would be a lovely death.
***
It was close to half nine when you woke up again. Benny was still sound asleep, but you fought with teeth and nails against the temptation to snuggle closer to him and got up, earning a grunt from him in answer when you escaped his arms.
You were in dire need of a run. Your exercise routine was sacred—exercising was what kept you sane. Now, in this situation with Benny, you needed it more than ever. You loved running; it helped to clear your head and put your thoughts in order. There was nothing that a run couldn't fix.
That was the spirit you were in by the time you got back, drenched in sweat, with hair sticking to your forehead and your sports bra glued to your body like a second skin. Indeed, your head never felt clearer.
It wasn't bad, either, that Benny was the first thing you saw when you got back to the house—nevermind that he was talking to Samantha. He saw you first, and his sour expression changed instantly, opening a big grin.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist, and you pressed a kiss against his lips. His finger tightened on your waist.
You turned to Samantha and smirked.
“Sorry, Pam. Gotta steal my man,” you said, grabbing his hand and steering him away from her.
He offered no resistance at all, unlacing his fingers with yours and happily letting you pull him wherever you wanted to. You had no place in mind, however, the only goal was to make her jealous, so you dragged him to the kitchen and pulled him to the side, out of her sight. He stood with his back to the wall and you in front of him. Still hand in hand.
“You definitely made her mad now,” he said, laughing.
“That was the intention,” you replied, a smirk still on your lips.
Silence installed itself between you two, reality downing. You were completely alone in the kitchen. There was no need to keep the act on, but you couldn't bring yourself to let go of his hand. You saw as he glanced at your lips, going back to meet your eyes. You knew damn well what he was seeing in them—lust. And you could almost swear that was what you were seeing in his, too. You felt a tug on your hand—he was tugging you closer, and you let him, until your body was pressed flush against his. You could barely breathe.
Holy shit. This was really happening.
His hand left yours, going to your waist. The skin on your midriff was searing hot; you could say it was because of the exertion from the run, but you both knew it was because of his touch.
You didn't dare speak, afraid to break whatever spell you were in. You didn't dare blink, either, wanting to commit to memory every trace, every inch of his beautiful face. You'd never noticed that his left eye was full of small brown dots. It all fit so perfectly.
“Benny?” You whispered.
His left hand made its way to the back of your neck. You suddenly couldn't care less that your body was drenched in sweat, because all that mattered now was that his hands were on your body.
And then his lips were on yours, attacking, conquering and domineering every inch he could. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and he pulled you impossibly closer. Were he shirtless, you'd feel every trace and nook of his abs. His touch was urgent, needy—almost as if he'd missed you. Well, you sure did—for two years you dreamt of anything like this happening again. It felt like heaven; every touch of his lips sent shockwaves through your body, heat pooling at your core, making you feel all tingly and electric. Despite his shirt being in the way, you could still feel the traces of his sculpted chest; you were holding yourself back from slipping your hands under his shirt and wandering. Instead, you held yourself back and slipped your hands to his neck, one hand tugging at his hair–which was in the perfect length to be pulled at–and the other scraping your nails through his scalp, eliciting a groan from him.
“Fuck, Gracie,” he murmured against your mouth.
As if in response, one of his hands slipped to your ass and squeezed, hard. The thinness of the sports shorts you were wearing meant that it feet almost as if there was nothing between his hand and your skin. You wished there wasn't.
It was your turn to moan against his mouth.
There were no thoughts in your head. Just Benny, his hands, his mouth and his cock, that you could feel rock hard, straining against his shorts and pressing against you.
The loud clang of metal pans hitting the floor took you both out of the spell you were in, making you jump away from Benny, heart racing, almost as if you were both kids caught doing something wrong.
A chuckle came from behind you. “Sorry, lovebirds,” Elisa's voice came from behind, Luke's girlfriend.
You took one look at Benny, puffy red lips, chest heaving, and, like a coward, sprinted to the shower. _
By the end of the second day, you were slightly more accustomed to the role of Benny's girlfriend. He played the role dutifully, always close to you when he wasn't doing something, his hands always finding an excuse to touch you. You couldn't deny that it felt good. The kiss, however, was't discussed once, and you were thankful for that. You weren't really sure that you wanted to discuss it.
When you proposed this charade to Benny, you mentioned his ex and your ex as reasons. Now, you couldn't care less about your ex. To be honest, he hadn't even crossed your mind once in the last few hours. Benny was all that occupied your thoughts—and the occasional glares from Samantha, which you thought funny as fuck.
Again you went to bed before him. But by the time you woke up the next day, you were happy to be wrapped around Benny.
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by @reveriesources
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simp4pedropascal75 · 1 year
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“Only you and me.” (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)
Word count:1,6K
summary: Its your graduation day, one of the most important days in your whole life, but your dad misses the ceremony, although he promised he would be there... (happy ending)
trigger warnings: some curse words, just a short mention of anxiety, angst (but with a happy ending)
This is my first post of a oneshot and I mentioned in my Introduction that English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes, please tell me then:) I hope you’ll like it, enjoy <3
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Y/N’s POV
Today is your graduation, finally. You worked so hard for this and you’re even class best, but you wouldn’t have done it without your dad. Since your mother left it has always been you and your dad, Pedro Pascal. He always gave you the comfort you need, helped you in every situation and has given you courage. He tried to help you with your homework since you’re in school and tried to get to every football match or school performance you had. But having a dad who’s a very famous actor, isn’t always that fun. The older you got, the more you could take care of yourself and didn’t need a grown-up to look after you that long anymore. But Pedro still tried to always be there on any events, but it got more that he didn’t had time, because of a new project he was working on or just some work stuff. But you know he tried the best as he could and that’s one of the reasons why you loved him so much.
Now you’re 17 and it’s the day of your graduation. You dad wasn’t at home now, because he has a meeting with some directors, because of the new series “The Last Of Us”, where he’s playing Joel and you’re pretty proud of him that he got this role, but he promised he’ll be there when your graduation begins.
Now it’s only five minutes till your graduation starts. You look nervous through the hall, where already all family members of the students sit, but you don’t find your dad sitting anywhere. You gulp. “He’ll come, I’m sure… He’s your dad, and he would never miss your graduation, he still has five minutes”, your best friend says while laying her hand on your shoulder. You nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” You say to her with a nervous smile, and you wait.
Pedro’s POV
The meeting went longer than planned because the directors had to talk about so much. I told them, that I must go, but they kept me there. And now, I`m sitting in my car and there’s traffic right in front of me. I look at the time and I only have two minutes left. I take out my phone, wanting to tell her, that I’m in traffic right now, but her phone is turned off. “Mierda!” (Fuck!), I curse while punching against my steering wheel.
Y/N’s POV
Your graduation begins while you’re looking panicking through the whole hall, and you still don’t see him. “Por favor…” (Please), you mumble to yourself, still hoping that he’ll come. The minutes gone by, and it’s already been 30 minutes, and he also missed your speech that you planned on 2 weeks before, which he was so excited to hear. You bite nervously on your lower lip. The graduation ceremony will soon be over, and you’ll be given your classification on stage. “He still has to come… please.” You start thinking why he would come too late, just because he had to go to work this morning? You asked him if he can’t take the day off, but he just gave you’re a forehead kiss, saying that he can’t but he promises he’ll come this afternoon and went to work.
More 15 minutes go by and you’re about to go on stage, you don’t see him anywhere and now you give up any hope. You feel that your eyes begin to water because of the disappointment. You pull yourself together when your name was called and go up the stage with a forced smile.
Pedro’s POV
When I got out of the traffic, I had already been 30 minutes too late. I think I never drove so fast with my car like I did now. I definitely was over the speed limit and got caught by a speeding camera, but I don’t care about that. All I care about was going to the graduation of my little girl. After 15 minutes I got to her school and start running straight to the hall, where the graduation was. I burst through the door, seeing how you got your certificate and a handshake from your principal.
Y/N’s POV
I hear the door open and look cross the hallway, my dad’s eyes are meeting mine. I Immediately start tearing up, giving my principal a handshake, and going off the stage. He walks towards me. “I’m so sorry, mijita…-“ (my daughter), you cut him off. “You promised…” You say to him while a tear is running down your cheek. You can tell that he feels awful, but you do too. You feel so hurt right now. “You fucking promised…” You whisper. “Mi cariño, you don’t know how sorry I am- the meeting went longer than I expected and-“, You cut him off again. “I asked you not to go to work today, dad. You missed my speech, which I worked 2 weeks on! You missed my whole graduation!”, You say a little louder because of frustration and disappointment, but because you don’t want to cause too much attention, you just go to your best friend again. “I’m so sorry Y/N, I’m sure he didn’t mean it”. You sigh, taking your things. “Let’s just get out of here.” You say to her in a cold tone, trying to hold your emotions back. You go out, following your classmates, who also graduated, to go to your after party you all planned.
Pedro`s POV
I just see her going out the door and I feel so terrible, I can’t even describe it. She was right I shouldn’t have gone to this meeting anyway and if I had taken this whole day off just for her, this all wouldn’t have happened in the first place. I let my hand run through my hair, starting to think how I could make it up to her while walking to my car again.
Y/N’s POV
You went bowling with your former classmates, you had some drinks and ordered pizza, but even if you tried enjoying it, you just couldn’t. You know, its not that your dad didn’t care, you know how sorry he is, but… he really wanted to go to work today. You know he was very happy about the role he got in this series, and you’ve always been understanding.
But just because you’re getting older doesn’t mean that you’re more comfortable with being alone and having less time with your parent, because your inner child, that wants to be with his parents, will always be in your heart.
The evening passes quickly, you go out and you already see your dad with his car to pick you up. You say goodbye to your best friend and get into his car, just being silent. You don’t want to talk right now. You take off your graduating cap, waiting for him to start driving.
You know he wants to say something, but he also knows that you don’t want to talk about it, and he respects it. He starts the engine and drives off. You just look out of the window, looking at the stars. After a while you notice that’s not the way home, you get confused. He stops in front of your school and gets out of the car. “Please come with me”, he says in a calm voice while he’s holding your graduation cap in his hand. You sigh and get out of the car, starting to follow him.
As you follow him, you notice that you’re going back into the hall, where you’re graduation ceremony was. “Why are we here?” You ask him confused, tired of the whole day. You stand in front of the stage, that’s when he turns to you, handing you your sheets, where your speech is written on. “Read it to me.” He says pleadingly. You look up to him, that’s when he puts your graduation cap on your head again. “Please, mija… read it to me.” He whispers and you feel how your eyes start to water, looking directly on the ground again. You just stay silent for a couple of minutes.
 “Okay…” You whisper back, while going slowly on the stage again. He takes a seat in the audience in front of you and you’re getting nervous, even more nervous when your graduation ceremony was. “Its okay, darling. It’s only you and me.”, he says to you with a smile. You can’t hide a slight smile from your lips, take a deep breath and start reading out your speech.
You start talking about your school time, your friends, the teachers and just about the whole school years. At the end, you come to your favorite part.
“All this, I wouldn’t have done without my dad. He was the one who always tried to help me with my homework if I didn’t understood it, he was comforting me at night, when I had nightmares, he comforted me with my anxiety and he had always given me courage to do what I love. Since I can imagine, it has always been us, just me and him. You all know him as the Mandalorian, Oberyn Martell and just as a famous actor. But I know him as my dad, and…” You start crying, gasping a little bit for air, but you pull yourself together.
“he’s just the best dad I could ever dream of.” I finish while looking at him. I see tears running down his cheeks too and he directly comes onto the stage, pulling me into a tight hug.
“Oh, mi cariño… That was beautiful…”, you hear him mumbling while caressing your hair. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there on this important day, you’re right, I should have stayed home with you… I’m so sorry, my love…” He says sobbing and you just hug him tightly. “It’s okay, dad… This was even better.” You say smiling while he lets go of you, taking your hands and looking you directly into your eyes and says.
“Only you and me.”
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shivstar · 8 months
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Some asked me why I hate the character Remus Lupin so much.
And people who have read my posts will think that probably it is related to my even more strong dislike for wolfstar. But surprisingly it is not at all related to that.
So, long story short is that I read a fic which was done so nicely that from there on me and remus were always on odds.
For those who want long story-
I was actually into time traveling fics a few years back. You know where hermione goes back in time and makes all things right.
This was one such fic. Where she is reborn as the twin sister of james Potter.
Now, one thing people should know about these fic is that here she is paired with prominent people we know from first war time.
More often it is not james, because of his epic love story with lily or the fact that her best friend will not be born if she is paired such. Others who are often paired with her are sirius, remus, Regulus and snape.
I was into sirius-hermione pairing and read all of them like drugs.
Now my expectations when reading such fics is that the romance take a little back seat and the drama related to war should provide more entertainment.
So mostly avoided fics where she travelled through 2-3 boyfriends to reach to her final guy. Sirius. But this story was exception.
I was reading one such fic in which this pairing was taged. Sirius and Hermione
In it sirius and remus both have feelings for hermione. And neither made a move because they knew about how the other felt and didn't want to come in the way of rthe other out of brotherhood.
We as reader are not told which one of them she has feelings for. Maybe both??????????????????The player witch😎.
Anyways. But this change when after the incident with snape in the shack, remus lets go of all his concern for his friend's feelings and makes a move to the girl.
All is well and good. And they slowly and steadily ease into the relationship. And things are in early stage.
This carries on for a few months where sirius is shown to be feeling remorseful for what he did to his friend. And is also a little heartbroken seeing the two together but he takes it like a champ and does not feel any ill will towards the new couple.
One day the marauders are planning some prank. During which remus starts taunting sirius because he still feeling bitter. Peter and james try to handle the situation but it keep on accelerating to no avail.
In the heat of the moment, remus decides to taunt sirius that he has got the girl they both wanted and tells in detail about what the two got up two just the last night. ( about their bedroom activities).
James first of all punches remus and breaks his nose for speaking like this about his sister. As if she were an object.
Turns out hermione was also nearby and listened to all this and confronts remus about using her and their relationship to make sirius suffer. She asks him if he would have asked her out if it weren't for his desire to punish sirius by asking her out.
This scene was done so fantastically that after that day lupin's character was gone for me. As soon as he comes as a prominent character in any fic, I take my leave or skip those parts.
Now obviously, the Hermione, sirius and james in that particular fic forgave poor lupin. But I never could find it in me to be able to do so. I simply was hoping till the end of the fic that they will just kick him out of their life.
This is my problem as a reader. I get too emotionally attached when the story is really well done. yeah I am malleable like that. 🥺🥺
I am once again reading a fic with sirius/ harry pairing, this too has a problematic remus but the author says that they are trying to aim for his redemption. It is called "RETURN FROM THE VEIL BY @jmagnabo92
This fic too is such where in the end the protagonist will forgive the bad guy but I will be left with even more bad feelings about this particular character than before.
So, this is the reason of me hating remus, not because of canon or wolfstar or any toxic story I read, simply a well done fic where he tried to take away the female protagonist from her destined male protagonist.
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piratefalls · 1 year
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i've been back on my leverage bullshit for a hot minute now. in my effort to put off watching the season 2 finale of redemption (because watching the finale means the wait for a season 3 announcement has finally arrived and i'm not emotionally prepared for that) i dove deep into ao3. 
parker/hardison/eliot
The Two Weddings Job by HugeAlienPie
A year later, Sophie and Nate finally remember to get married. Looks like Eliot beat them to the punch.
The De-Pantsing of Alec Hardison by lynne_monstr
Hardison was used to fielding constant demands on the job. Crack the code. Trace the cash. Do the impossible. It was what he did. Take your pants off, well, that one was a bit unexpected.
I hope you that catch me (cause I'm already falling) by pipistrelle
Hardison said, "I didn't want to leave you behind."
Post "The Rundown Job".
The Romcom Jobs by samyazaz
Five times Parker, Hardison, and Eliot lived out romcom tropes for a con, and one time they found themselves in one for real.
So I'll Go by zahnie
Eliot's nightmares and insomnia are worse than usual, and after a job goes poorly, he decides his boyfriend and girlfriend would be happier without him. They disagree.
My Original Establishment by phnelt
Eliot was looking at the door like it was on fire. Half like he should run towards it, and half a look of danger. Alec knew the door wasn’t on fire, so the looks must be directed at the unassuming elderly white gentleman standing on the other side. He could have been anyone in faded blue jeans, button-up stretched over his pot-belly, cap covering what was probably pretty wispy hair. Now, Alec had seen a lot in his life and so he did not trust appearances. If Eliot thought this guy was dangerous, then Alec expected to see a bazooka come out of that man’s head any second.
“What’s the play?” Alec whispered, not moving.
Eliot swallowed. “I’m going to open it,” he said, not sounding certain at all.
Parker asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s my dad.”
Right Round by letsgostealafandom
Or: The Lengths That I Will Go To A Love Story in 100 parts
It's the Thursday that never ends.
your body is a war zone but you are not a ruin by postcardmystery
“Make me a sandwich,” Parker says, so he does.
“Cut the damn wire,” says Hardison, so he does.
“Jump,” says Parker, says Hardison, and he never needs to ask, “How high?”
safe as houses by thecanaryfalls
Parker and Hardison comfort Eliot, in their weird multimillionare-convicted-felons-who-are-planning-a-life-with-him kind of way.
Set right around The Rundown Job.
like a map of a place you’ve never been by bydaybreak
He knows it’d be so fucking easy, if he’d let himself. Because he’s easy for them, has been since that first job, since the day he hauled Hardison’s ass out of a building about to explode. It’d be so easy.
So he won’t.
Sandbox by balloonstand
Five world-class archeologists meet on a dig.
I say goodbye but mean hello by lynne_monstr
The Brew Pub is drowning in Christmas and Eliot’s pretty sure Parker’s idea of appropriate tree ornaments is going to get them all arrested. If that’s not bad enough, he’s been sleeping with Parker and Hardison, and in all the time they’ve been together he hasn’t once stuck around till morning.
He’s never come out and asked if he could stay, but they’ve never tried to stop him from leaving, either.
you, you hold my heart by zahnie
After a job goes sideways, Parker is captured by Moreau and loses the last five years of memories.
Winter Song (To You) by letsgostealafandom
Eliot sat up straight when the lights went out throughout the apartment.
the warmth of your doorways by gyzym
Don't let me in with no intention to keep me.
Odd One Out by thingswithwings
"We should talk about Eliot," Alec says, at the same time Parker says, "We should have sex in a hammock."
something good can work (and it can work for you) by queenklu
“When you say ‘we’re making dinner,'” Eliot finally says, “do you really mean ‘Hey you should come over and cook dinner for us so we don’t burn down the apartment?’”
Five (almost) kisses for luck, or something like it by SquaresAreNotCircles
Parker turns to him and he’s about to give her a boost to the balcony one story up, when she grins at him, six inches from being nose to nose. “Kiss for luck?”
Or: Luck is a fragile thing. Eliot fumbles to catch when Parker and Hardison irrationally keep throwing it at him.
Leave You with an Empty Room by zahnie
Parker runs.
places to land by bydaybreak
She thinks she knows what Hardison means when he looks at her with his eyes all soft; thinks she knows what Eliot means when he bites out “dammit, Hardison”; thinks she knows what either of them means when, after a job, Hardison tells them that he’s ordered dinner, or Eliot comes back to the loft and starts chopping things in the kitchen.
Marriage Vows by waterbird13
How each member says their unconventional wedding vows, never quite at the same time.
Something Different by butterflybooks
Sophie says, “Something’s different.”
And Parker says, “It’s probably the sex.”
But actually, a lot of things are different.
(One of them is the sex.)
First on the List by thingswithwings
While he's waiting for the men with the guns to decide what to do with him, Alec thinks about what he'll do if he gets home.
The ASPCA Job by james
Parker has a new job for them. Alec isn't sure this is what he signed up for.
The One Where There's a Kid by boxoftheskyking
Oh shit Hardison has a kid.
Pure fluff.
Live Through This by zahnie
Parker, Hardison, and Eliot are running a job as a favour to Nate and Sophie when Parker starts experiencing a time loop: the day of the heist over and over, resetting every time she dies.
places to land by bydaybreak
She thinks she knows what Hardison means when he looks at her with his eyes all soft; thinks she knows what Eliot means when he bites out “dammit, Hardison”; thinks she knows what either of them means when, after a job, Hardison tells them that he’s ordered dinner, or Eliot comes back to the loft and starts chopping things in the kitchen.
In Front Of God And The Oklahoma State Flag by leiascully
Eliot gets a letter containing his father's obituary. Hardison goes with him back to Oklahoma while Parker's out of town.
The Thanksgiving Dinner Job by phnelt
“Oh no,” Hardison groaned dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m so sorry you guys.” They’re sitting on the couch, Eliot and Parker are cleaning their knives -- Parker uses hers to mostly cut rope, Eliot’s mostly uses them to cut people -- and Hardison is sitting next to them with his laptop. It had been a pretty pleasant evening so far. Nothing seems to be immediately bleeding, or on fire, so Eliot’s reaction is maybe a little more muted that it would be if Parker said the same words. Eliot thinks about switching to high alert, but Hardison, as a rule, has no sense of proportion. He gets about this dramatic when they run out of orange soda.
“I have to host Thanksgiving for the family this year -- and no I can’t get out of it, I already checked.”
Or: Eliot cooks a turkey
safe as houses by pipistrelle
After a rough job, Eliot takes his team to ground to make sure they're taken care of. (And of course they return the favor.)
you do not have to be good. by coffeesuperhero
Come hell or high water, Eliot is going to figure this out.
the punchline to this by bydaybreak
The woman laughs, her eyes crinkling behind her silver cat-eye glasses. "You must be Eliot,” she says, cheerfully. “He warned me you were charming. Where is he?”
Eliot’s stomach drops as he realizes that this is a terrible fucking mistake, because this ain’t a random elderly woman showing up to collect cans or take up donations or whatever it is that elderly woman in weird fucking places like Portland do. This is Hardison’s nana, and Eliot has just opened the door to the apartment—to Hardison and Parker’s apartment—like he lives there.
Wanting and Having by argyleam, phnelt
So yeah. That’s one of about a million reasons why it couldn’t be Hardison. Moreau at least was a stone-cold killer; it would be the death knell if he let the nerd in the van be the one to fuck him. And he is starting to lose the illusion that if they got their pants off he’d want Hardison to do anything but fuck him, pin him down under those gangly limbs and fucking give it to him. He’s been thinking about it in the shower lately more than he wants to. It makes it kind of hard to be around Hardison, and Hardison is not good at picking up on stay-out-of-my-airspace signals, Hardison gets right up close, Hardison talks and talks and talks while Eliot is trying to concentrate. Hardison hugs. It’s annoying. Eliot keeps having to specify that Hardison should keep his long legs and broad shoulders and eminently grabbable ass over there, on the other side of the van. The whole thing’s giving Eliot a goddamn headache.
Some part of Eliot really likes that about the guy, that Hardison’s so up in his own head that he doesn’t bother to notice that Eliot’s a terrifying person. The part of Eliot that’s into that should probably be taken out and shot for poor basic judgment.
Fair Share by shaenie
Parker doesn’t have manners; she has mannerisms, some of them disturbing, some of them endearing, most of them strange.
and we'll take it slow by lady_ragnell
“We can’t really get married,” Parker says one night, and is really sorry she can’t see Hardison’s face in the dark, because he definitely drops something.
The story of the necklaces.
Thieves In Love by superthousand
Eliot Spencer's stuff has been going missing lately, and he knows who has it. But he has no damn clue why.
Guard Your Eggshell Heart by letsgostealafandom
Parker had a theory, and her theory was this: it made Eliot really happy when they noticed the things he did for them. It made Eliot happy when they made sure he knew they noticed the things he did for them. And when Eliot thought they didn't notice, it made him- not unhappy, but something worse, something like he knew that was all he could expect from anyone and he'd resigned himself to it a while back. Once she'd noticed it, she couldn't stop, and the realization of how often they took Eliot for granted made her stomach twist uncomfortably.
The Slow Slip by waterbird13
Parker and Hardison notice that Eliot is becoming way more forgetful than he used to be, which leads to some hard truths and adjustments for their little family.
--
pre/ends in ot3
The Tender Things That We Were Working On by lady_ragnell
Maybe they're not the Breakfast Club, but there's something about Saturday detention that seems to bond people together.
Rings a Bell by venilia
Eliot wakes up in the hospital missing a lot of his memories. He's pleased to discover that apparently he has a husband, and a Parker.
Meanwhile, Parker has feelings, and knows she's weird, and Hardison might be a fish, a bird, or a turtle.
Quarantine and the Leverage 3 by Yuliares
Quarantine is declared—so of course Eliot shows up with a bag of groceries. As if they thought for a minute that Eliot would trust them to feed themselves.
The Waiting Job by sunspot
They're out of food, and someone's going to have to go out to get more before they die. They have no choice at this point. Hopefully the zombies will see it that way and not give them a hard time.
The Sex Pollen Job by dreamiflame
During a case, Eliot, Parker and Hardison get dosed with an aphrodisiac (Hardison and Parker insist it's 'sex pollen'). Can Eliot survive the fallout?
The DIY Family Job by copperbadge
Eliot technically stole a baby, which is actually the least of Leverage's problems.
This is the Place Where I Sit by lynne_monstr
Just because Eliot had pledged to always be there for him and Parker in a team-like, platonic way, didn’t mean he couldn’t go out and keep doing his thing with the ladies of Portland. Hardison could respect that, even if he wished the man would look a little closer to home. There were two people there waiting for him if he ever decided he wanted it.
Or, that time the Brew Pub gained a rival and Eliot finally figured out what he wants.
strange, how we are changed by thingswithwings
Eliot watches, fascinated, as Hardison brings the joint to his lips and inhales, making the lit end burn bright and cherry-red for several long seconds.
The Breakup Job by AppleJuiz
Parker hums thoughtfully. “How do we steal that?” she asks. “How do we steal a breakup for Eliot?” She frowns. “From Eliot?”
“I dunno, babe,” he says helplessly, tugging Parker in a little closer to fight off the strange shapeless fear of her slipping away too. “Just be here for him, I guess. Same as we always do.”
Parker makes a grumpy sound, but wraps her arms tightly around his waist.
“I don’t think that’s enough anymore.”
A Different Kind of Love by Telaryn
Eliot has been fighting his feelings for Parker and Hardison for a long time and he has a really good list of reasons why the relationship he wants can't work. When Hardison is kidnapped and Parker goes off the rails worrying about him, Eliot begins to suspect that in the end none of his reasons matter as much as his love for hacker and thief.
Some Place Better Than Where You've Been by lady_ragnell
Four conversations Alec has with his teammates while he's away, and one he has once he's back.
Or: the last four episodes of Redemption season 1 from Hardison's side of things.
Ain't No Fran Fine by letsgostealafandom
I’m ignoring the single parent part of this because I make great choices and also can you imagine Parker and Hardison with like an adopted kid and they’re still a hacker and a thief and then they need a babysitter and hire Eliot and-
Okay, to the half-assed story.
--
parker/eliot
Insomnia by entanglednow
"You can't just sneak into people's bedrooms in the middle of the night and demand that they have sex with you."
Fall factor by argyleam
Eliot knows that Parker could always get out of it. He also knows that she chooses not to.
heat wave by theredhoodie
Can it even get this hot in Oregon? Parker isn't enjoying this heat wave and pops into the restaurant to try to find something to both ease the temperature and her hunger. She only ends up with one of the two sated.
Change the Game by sunspot
The game is afoot, and then Parker goes and changes the damn rules.
Two Coins by Writewithpenandink
After the team splits up in LA, Eliot and Parker reconnect unexpectedly.
Takes place after the end of season one, and goes slightly AU from there.
Mine's Not a High Horse by hannasus
Five times Eliot and Parker don't kiss and one time they do.
What Did You Do? by Telaryn
In the aftermath of the San Lorenzo Job, Eliot realizes that he's been using Damien Moreau and the challenge of bringing him down to avoid his growing feelings for a crazy, blond-haired thief.
--
gen/non-ot3
The Job Interview Job by copperbadge
Unemployed librarian Bobby Dismas isn't sure how Leverage found him or what they want with him, but apparently it has something to do with his conspiracy theory website about Roy Chappel (and Kenneth Crane, and Jacques Labert).
Solicited Noods by lynne_monstr
Peggy invites Parker to attend a Fancy Food Festival, and it leads to conversations about cats, a weekend of food tastings, one (1) adorably annoying love interest, and a side of attempted murder.
(Or, What Parker knows about friendship is this. Friends don’t let friends fall into the clutches of international criminals. Unless they're good-guy criminals. Or a bad friend.)
--
crossovers + ot3
Don't Look Down by zahnie
Parker makes a demon deal to bring Eliot and Hardison back from the dead. As a direct result, she has to go on a heist with the Winchesters.
Can't Trust Myself Anymore by zahnie
Eliot is given the Mark of Cain against his will, with no idea what it is or what it will do to him.
Born to Strange Sights by zahnie
Parker, Hardison, and Eliot meet Sam and Dean because Sam saw Parker in a vision. Hardison is assumed to be Jake come back to life somehow, and the whole thing goes about as well as you'd expect.
The Second Labor Job by justanotherStonyfan
“I’m not a good person,” ‘Jack’ says. “And you prob’ly won’t wanna help.”
Eliot leans back a little. That implies a lot, and he feels like he’s digging them deeper with every word.
“Then why’d you come to us?” he says. “’Cause you’re good people,” the guy says. “And I need good people.”
Bucky Barnes needs help. He goes to see some people who might be able to give him some. (Leverage crossover AU)
Boeuf Mystère by galwednesday
“Quick question,” Bucky said.
Steve looked up, but didn’t stop moving passports and stacks of cash into a nondescript blue duffel, his mind busily ticking through logistics. He’d grab the glock taped behind the hidden drawer in the desk on their way out, and they could buy new clothes once they got across the border into neutral territory, so they didn’t need much else, apart from whatever Bucky wanted to bring. One duffle should be enough. “Yeah, honey?”
“What the fuck.”
137 notes · View notes
darsynia · 1 year
Text
Just Right | Ch 7
(Steve Rogers x F!Reader, post-Ultron Multichapter)
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Summary:
You’ve been in love with Steve Rogers for at least a year, but he treats you the same way he treats every other member of the team– with respect, but nothing more. It takes an inter-dimensional mistake and a whole second, more assertive, actually interested Steve for you to realize that you don’t want just any version of Steve Rogers– you want the one you’ve been pining for all this time.
Length: 3,512
FIC MASTERLIST | LAST CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER
Tags: @ronearoundblindly @munstysmind @tiny-anne @themaradaniels @starryeyes2000 @chickensarentcheap @isasalom @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @deepbatched @qvnthesia
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Excerpt:
You catch up with Gold Steve right as he’s headed back into Bumble. You get it-- it’s the least-used of the sparring rooms. The unenhanced humans leave it for the enhanced ones, and the enhanced humans all have their own routines, most of which don’t feature the unique landscape.
It’s a perfect place for Gold Steve to isolate himself, basically. You wonder how many hours he’s spent in there.
Pushing the door open feels like an imposition, but if your plan doesn’t work, this man will never see his version of you again (the possibility that you might never know hasn’t hit till right now. There are a million alternate possibilities, and the three of you are basing your contingency plan on an offhand comment about a fall). Not only that, but his last few encounters with you will have been negative.
You’re standing in the entryway gathering up your courage when he speaks.
“He told you, didn’t he? You’d have just left me alone to cool off, otherwise.”
Wincing, you nod.
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Chapter Seven
All right, it seems someone has decided to spoil our fun. It was bound to happen, but you all know I neither forgive nor do I forget. If you don’t want to be accused of breaking up the best 1v1 since Thor and I threw down in the forest that one time, get out of the hallways for the next thirty minutes! All surveillance will be OFF to hide the evidence of my righteous acts of anger.
“Tony, you magnificent genius!” you giggle. Both Steves look confused, so you explain your theory. “This has to be Stark-style cover. He’s clearing the hallway so no one figures out it was me, since if they do, I’ll be persona non grata here for weeks.” A thought occurs to you, and you frown. “Actually, for him to meddle like that probably means something’s up. I’d better…” You trail off.
The end of that sentence was meant to be ‘head over to Tony’s lab to figure it out,’ but even after kissing Steve, even after being some sort of focal point for both versions of him, that feels presumptuous.
“I’ll go with you,” Steve says, as if it’s natural for you to see yourself that way.
Gold Steve holds up a roll of athletic tape. “There are some things I still want to take care of. Keep me updated?” The two Steves go through an exchange of looks that you can’t decipher, before Gold Steve offers Steve a little smile. “If Tony wants to tell me something, he will. It’s fine, go on ahead.”
“All right.” 
The two of you watch Gold Steve head for an alcove with punching bags, and he turns to you. “I can stay back for a few minutes if you don’t want to be seen in the halls with me.”
You know walking with Steve would be seen as an admission of culpability for your role in breaking up their sparring match, but you shake your head. “Steve, I’d go with you on a walk to certain death. I can handle a bit of disapproval from my coworkers.” It’s flippant, but you mean it. Most of the support staff does-- you’ve talked about it. That’s why you’d trained with Nat a couple of times, because sure, none of you are super powered, you don’t make the tech for yourselves, but you sure as hell would help when it counted, if you had to. If it would make a difference.
“If I let myself take you on a walk like that, I wouldn’t deserve you,” he says, holding the door open for you. The look on his face is serious, and you stop beside him and just… let how you feel show on your face. You remember how that felt from Gold Steve, and you want that for Steve.
He blinks a couple of times and looks down, possibly shy despite being everything you’ve ever wanted, and yep, there it is, you love him even more than you did a few minutes ago. It’s like clockwork.
You get to Tony’s lab without hallway incident, and his reaction tells you he’d been hoping you’d both drop by. Tony has clearly either gotten some sleep, or Pepper’s managed to haul him in for a shower, shave, and a change of clothes.
“Okay, who’s handing out dire expressions? You get a two-for-one deal?” he asks, leading you into his spacious adjoining office.
Steve says, “I had a conversation with Rogers--”
“I was hoping to ask you about that. Must have been some talk if it got you wanting to punch yourself in the face. Then again, I want to punch you in the face too, some days.”
“The sparring was unrelated,” Steve says, ignoring Tony’s attempt at riling him up. You notice that he settles into the plush leather couch only once you’ve chosen a seat. “He was already working out in there, doing some moves I didn’t recognize. We figured it was a good chance to talk technique.”
“Two identical heads are better than one? I get it. I think Pepper would appreciate that opportunity too.” The look Tony shoots at you after saying this makes your entire body catch fire.
“Tony!”
“He told me more about why he’s here,” Steve says, clearing his throat. “His timeline is years into our future, but Tony, things are bad over there. I understand his contingency plan, maybe even respect it, but it’s extreme. I don’t mind saying I’m conflicted.”
“I’m dead over there. He confirmed it,” you admit. Steve’s leg starts bouncing, and you wish you had the courage to reach over and rest a hand on it, but you two aren’t there yet. “He also said if we knew what the plan was, we wouldn’t let him go back.”
Steve stands, obviously too upset to sit still. “He’s right.”
“Hit us with it, Cap,” Tony says-- and that’s exactly what he does. Steve explains that his counterpart refused to detail exactly what happened, just stating that something powerful had been misused, and as a result, an unimaginable number of people died. To unravel it, Gold Steve and his version of the Avengers plan to use technology not unlike the device that brought him to your universe, but it isn’t that simple. At least one of the items they need carries a cost.
A cost that Gold Steve plans on paying with his life.
Even after seeing the way Gold Steve had acted in the surveillance video, the way he’d seemed to be mourning something, this news hits you very hard.
Tony’s already pages ahead. “Okay, so we figure out how to save him before we send his ass back. He’s you, so the idea of not going back at all won’t fly. Guy will commandeer this whole place single handedly if he thinks he has to.”
Steve’s tense body language relaxes on hearing that. “Thank you. I agree.”
“Did he… tell you anything about the how?” you ask.
Steve’s jaw clenches. “At one point he hinted at a fatal fall, but I don’t think he meant to. My guess is that it’s weighing on him.” He looks at Tony, lifting his eyebrows to emphasize his next words. “It was clear he thinks his death is some kind of catalyst. A necessity.”
“Score one for tortured nobility?” Tony sighs. “Geez, Steve, even your sacrificial moments are more poetic than mine. It’s enough to give a man a complex.”
A thought’s been forming in your mind, and you can tell that Tony’s about to devolve, so you go ahead and say it. “Steve, has anyone ever tested your healing factor? Like really pushed it?”
“You’ve jumped out of airplanes and stuff before, right?” Tony adds before Steve can respond. “Was it always into water?”
Steve’s brows furrow. “Not always.”
“Without your shield, how far do you think you’d have to fall to die?” Tony presses.
“Pretty far.”
Tony nods at you. “You get an idea?” 
“I wondered what counts as ‘dead,’” you say hesitantly. “Whatever we give Rogers would have to be something he’d be willing to use, even though he thinks he has to die to win, right? We’re… we’re probably going to have to trick him. So I was thinking about medical ways to cheat death, and what ‘rules’ your healing follows. I mean, it’s not magic, and dying isn’t a precise process.”
Both men are watching you intently, and you can’t tell by their expressions whether they’re following what you’re saying. If this wasn’t so important, you’d back off. You’d listen carefully to what Steve and Tony suggested and then go back to your desk so you could put it all together without all this pressure. But this-- this is heroism, to you. This is your way of fighting. With your mind, and your designs.
“Go on, ‘Dine. I can tell you have something,” Steve encourages.
You dig your hands together on your lap and try to take courage from the hidden pride you can see in his eyes. “Okay, so the question is, which thing do we think drives that healing factor? Is it brain waves? Is it tied to your heart beating? Because CPR can bring people back, if it’s done soon enough. Brain waves take a long time to fade, depending on the manner of death. If Gold Steve--” You break off, embarrassed. You hadn’t meant to reveal that you have a special nickname for him.
“Shelving that, keep going, I think I see what you’re getting at,” Tony says, which is empowering, because Tony Stark never passes up an opportunity to tease.
“Okay. Tony, your armor just has to come into contact with the arc reactor to work, right? FRIDAY monitors your vitals, though, I’ve heard her on the comms. So that means you’ve figured out how to set it up so that skin contact is enough for her to sense them, right?”
“Yes, sensors in certain places. Wrist, over my heart, at my neck.”
“Okay,” you say, getting up, excited. “I have that suit, the one with the rip. We could fit it with a defibrillator, a really subtle one, maybe? I mean, if he looked dead, if his heart stopped for a while, maybe that would be enough to trigger the healing again? How long could we wait before triggering the shock to restart his heart? After that, the healing takes over, and he’ll be alive.”
“He did say he wished his universe had someone to make them gear like ours,” Steve says. “That might be enough for him to accept the suit if you offered it to him.”
“You remember that?” you ask. You do, but the whole thing was memorable, given the location of that rip.
“I thought he was hitting on you.”
“Oh god. Do you have game in any universe?” Tony groans.
“Do I need to?”
“Please stop?” you ask plaintively.
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When the three of you adjourn, it’s so you can retrieve the suit for Tony to fit with a subtle defibrillator. This time, you ask Steve to avoid walking over with you, certain that if Gold Steve sees the two of you spending time, he’ll worry that his secret is out and change something.
Sam is in the room when you get there, testing commands for Redwing.
“Hey, ‘Dine. I hate to admit it, but the swap you did with those buttons really helped. I haven’t hit the wrong one after ten launches.”
You grin. “Great! You know you don’t have to say that, though, right? If you don’t like it, I’ll swap it back.”
“No worries. Just because I haven’t bitched at you about anything yet doesn’t mean I wouldn’t,” he says, favoring you with that gorgeous smile of his.
Behind you, Steve's voice says, “You want to try one more time?”
You turn around, startled. You hadn’t seen him when you walked in, but Gold Steve is standing there in regular clothes. He’s got the shield. You must look disapproving, because Sam steps over right away.
“He said he was going to stop by before dinner, show me one of the moves he and his Sam use.”
Deep down you know that Steve would never have balked at letting another version of himself use the shield, but there’s something about it that feels too much like sharing. There’s no way in hell you want to examine that, though, so you nod your approval as best you can.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but is it something that needs both of you? Can I work whatever it is into the armor, somehow?”
“Nah, needs the shield, otherwise I wouldn’t have touched it. Watch--” Gold Steve says, and Sam’s already releasing Redwing. The drone flies in a wide arc up by the ceiling, then dive-bombs over to Gold Steve, who expertly hides it behind the vibranium shield. “Redwing got clipped during a mission, once, and we came up with this.”
“Doesn’t that mean you’re changing history?” you tease, but immediately regret it. Gold Steve’s expression hardens, and he can’t get the shield off fast enough. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”
“No, you’re right. I’m… I’m too comfortable here, I think,” he says, and without another word, Gold Steve is out the door, the shield still rocking on the floor from the vehemence he’d shed it with.
“Man can’t help himself, I think,” Sam says, but you feel completely awful. Awful enough that when Sam says, “Go on, I know you want to,” you don’t even argue with him.
Instead, you go straight over to the locker where you’d stashed the ripped uniform in its bag. “Sam, could you take this to Tony? He’s got a theory I’d like to test.”
It’s the truth, but your conscience pricks you a little.
“You’ve got it,” Sam says, and as soon as you hand it over, you run out the door.
Gold Steve is not in sight, so you do what you should have done the last time you were looking for someone, and ask FRIDAY.
You catch up with Gold Steve right as he’s headed back into Bumble. You get it-- it’s the least-used of the sparring rooms. The unenhanced humans leave it for the enhanced ones, and the enhanced humans all have their own routines, most of which don’t feature the unique landscape.
It’s a perfect place for Gold Steve to isolate himself, basically. You wonder how many hours he’s spent in there.
Pushing the door open feels like an imposition, but if your plan doesn’t work, this man will never see his version of you again (the possibility that you might never know hasn’t hit till right now. There are a million alternate possibilities, and the three of you are basing your contingency plan on an offhand comment about a fall). Not only that, but his last few encounters with you will have been negative.
You’re standing in the entryway gathering up your courage when he speaks.
“He told you, didn’t he? You’d have just left me alone to cool off, otherwise.”
Wincing, you nod.
“Don’t worry. It’s good that you struggle with lying. It’s part of what I--” Gold Steve stops, smiles wryly, and continues. “It’s a good thing.”
His innate sense of decency won’t even let him admit how he feels. Had he talked about that with your Steve? There’s a lump in your throat, but you push past it. You feel like you’re taking on the mantle of that other self, the one he’ll never see again if he does what he’s planning to do.
“I don’t want you to die.”
Gold Steve has the wrapping tape again. “I didn’t want you to die either,” he says. “I did everything I could to stop it, and now I’m going to do everything I can to take it back.”
He pulls out a long strip of the tape, and the sound it makes as it rips away from the rest of the roll is loud, even in that large space. You imagine it as the sound of a heart breaking, but you genuinely can’t tell which out of the two of you that heart belongs to. Maybe that’s why you can’t help but say what’s on your mind.
“Doesn’t that mean she’ll come back and you’ll be gone? It’s going to break her heart, Steve. It’s already breaking mine!”
Oddly, that seems to calm him. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he says confidently, starting the process of wrapping his hands. “It’s part of the plan. When I go back, it will be before I left. Another Steve will already be there. She won’t have to do without me, she’ll just have to do without this me.”
Horrified, all you can do is stand there and stare at him. It’s as though the love you have for Steve Rogers has solidified in the spaces he inhabits-- your heart feels like it’s stopped, your lungs are clogged with fear and dismay.
“‘Dine,” Gold Steve whispers, coming over. “I shouldn’t have-- that was wrong of me to say.”
“But it’s the truth," you manage. Inside, you’re screaming. You want to reassure him. You want to tell him your secret, that it doesn’t have to be this way. But deep down you know that if you tell this version of Steve Rogers what you and Tony plan to do for him, he’ll reject it, and that’s a path to certain death.
So you’ll stay silent.
Even if it destroys you.
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Steve finds you desperately nursing a cup of coffee the next morning.
“That bad a night?” he asks, sitting across from you.
“Oh my god, Tony’s right,” you groan. “Steve. Steve. You can’t say that to a woman you like. You shouldn’t even say that to a woman you don’t like!”
He looks completely baffled, and more than a little chagrined. You take pity on him.
“Okay, look at it this way. When you said that, my first thought was, ‘he sees how ugly you are when you haven’t slept well, and it’s so bad he couldn’t help but say something.’”
Immediately, Steve reaches across the table toward you, palm up, insistent. You reluctantly pull one hand from its position cradling your precious, and as soon as you touch his hand, Steve’s thumb brushes across the back of yours in an obvious caress. 
He directs an intense look at you and says, “The first thing that went through my head was, ‘Wow, it looks like that cup of coffee is the most important thing in her life, this morning.’ You look as beautiful as ever, I promise.”
It’s the first time in your life that you doubt Steve Rogers is telling the whole truth, but given the motivators involved, you forgive him.
“I take back what I said about Tony,” you blurt out, wide-eyed. “Damn.”
The bashful look is back, and both of you realize you’re not alone in the room at roughly the same time. Steve gives your hand one last squeeze before grabbing his fork and starting on the scrambled eggs on offer this morning.
“Since you say you didn’t sleep well,” Steve says, enunciating with special care, “--did you want to talk about it?”
You look around to see if Gold Steve is in attendance, but he isn’t-- and it occurs to you that you haven’t seen him around the dining area for quite a while now. What you want to say is close enough to gossip that you lower your voice to just above a whisper.
“He’s deliberately isolating himself. I don’t know how much time he’ll have when he goes back, but-- we can’t let him do this. It feels wrong. No matter what happens, we should send him back feeling appreciated by this version of his family.”
“If we tell him we want to give him a sendoff, that might give Tony enough time to finish up,” Steve says, equally quietly. “We just can’t give the rest of the team the impression it’s a wake.”
“You’re right. I can’t imagine Natasha taking his plan lying down.”
A pair of support staff members sit at the other end of your six person table, and with a look, the two of you decide to change the subject.
At least, you thought that’s what that shared look was about.
“So, ‘Gold Steve?’”
You become laser-focused on your half-full coffee cup.
“Do you have a nickname for me, too?”
You do. You call him ‘your’ Steve-- but wild horses couldn’t drag that from you today, not after getting so little sleep. Your mind is… not sharp.
“I reserve the right to answer that on a day I get a full night’s sleep,” you tell Steve. “As for the ‘gold’ thing, he’s from an alternate universe, right? AU. The periodic symbol for gold.”
Steve looks intrigued and no small amount relieved. You decide you won’t tell him you spoke with Gold Steve about the other you unless he asks. There’s no need to worry him-- you’re completely invested in your Steve, despite how much you wish you could save his counterpart.
The subject shifts again, and after a persuasive argument on Steve’s part, you go grab a small plate of food. He’s glued to his phone when you get back, which is unusual enough that you assume it’s something pretty important. Two more people join the table, and soon you’re happily listening to a discussion about classic baseball and pushing the last bites of food around on your plate. Steve asks to borrow someone’s pen, and when he gets up to leave, he hands you a folded square of paper.
Everyone left at the table wants to know what it is, but you tuck it into your pocket and gather up your things to leave.
You don’t unfold it until you get to your desk, and when you figure out what it says, you can’t stop grinning.
Looks like you’re the Boron Radium Iodine Nitrogen Sulfur of this operation. Will you have Cobalt Fluorine Iron Einsteinium and dinner with me tomorrow night? 
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Next chapter (the conclusion!)
129 notes · View notes
analoceits · 5 months
Text
mushroom rings & faery things chapter 1: loyalty
A03 link
note:
thanks to ChaosIsMyName on A03 for reading this over!! theyre the fucking best and yall should read their shit.
also uhh. felt fair to warn that i do NOT pull any punches on my body horror. its brief and skippable but i do get pretty intense when i do go with it soo, yeah. as well this is probably one of the darkest and messiest chapters in this whole fic, and the full promise of older brother remus wont come in till later [like chapter 3] so yeah 3 it will happen eventually but right now everyones too messy to be sweet. you can see the seeds of it start to grow tho!!
tags:
Disabled Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Fae, Body Horror, (for like 1 or 2 paragraphs but yknow), Fae Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Light Sides As Family (Sanders Sides), Found Family, Things look Worse Than They are, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, implied/referenced suicidal ideation, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders has a Cane, Remus Typical Gore Discussion, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Discussions of Death/Grief, no one dies tho,
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I’m so sorry,
I know you don’t want me to do this, but I know I need too. I can’t go another day not sure if Roman will live or die, and I doubt you guys can either. No matter what you say, I’m indebted to you. It’s time I pay that back. Go to the edge of the woods, my gift will wait there.
With endless loyalty, Virgil.
Virgil pocketed the note in silence. It was the last of many ugly, emotional, gut-wrenching drafts and the only one he could imagine having them read. The only one he had managed to write without crying. With it completed, he had nothing left to do here.
He took one last look at his room from the bed. It didn’t look familiar; he had cleaned up most of his things so they wouldn’t have too while grieving. Still, there were some marks of himself that he couldn’t hide under the bed. 
A scuff in the tile from his boots, old purple sheets torn where he pulled on them too hard, a single blind tied to the rest with green string where he broke it. Family carved into a bed post. Despite his best efforts, there was proof he had lived.
With that bittersweet thought, he pulled himself up off the bed and steadied himself with his cane. He smiled just barely, slowly making his way down the stairs and around the hall. As soon as he was off the stairs, his eyes locked on the front door, but he silently shook his head.
There was one stop before he had to leave.
It took care to ease the bedroom door open silently, but as soon as he did he was at Roman’s bedside. He couldn’t help the way his stomach twisted with guilt at the sight - white bandages wrapping around his stomach where a red sash should be. The only red left was that pouring out of his guts, now.
Between bouts of crying and frantically checking his bandages, Logan had called it a godly miracle he survived. That was, of course, right before Patton physically dragged him to bed for his own sake, but it still held some weight. Their luck couldn’t last them forever, though. 
His eyes darted down to his cane when the thought hit him. The cane was a gift from Roman, one he had carved for hours on hours with painstaking care after Virgil started to complain of his pain. The one with from your family carved under the handle in gentle letters. Virgil had to hold back tears of joy when he first used it.
It was the last gift Roman was able to give him, a gift to make sure he wasn’t in pain. Even with the cane, he couldn't help Patton forage, or Logan shop, or Roman hunt. The thought sent a strange spiraling guilt through Virgil, but it didn’t matter.
It didn’t, because he knew he could fix it anyway. No matter how high the price may be.
He slipped the note out of his pocket. It was so small in his hand, but it must’ve weighed ten thousand pounds with how hard it was to hold. He tucked it in between Roman’s fingers with painstaking care. It was the only spot he could think to leave it.
Sparing one last glance to Roman’s limp form, he turned his back on the bed. The satchel felt practically weightless when he pulled it over his shoulder - if you could even call it that. It was tiny, only enough to fill a small cup of milk and a tiny jar of honey. That was all he needed.
Right as he went to stand up, a sharp whimper sounded from behind him. He glanced back to Roman, twisting and turning fitfully in his bed between little cries. Right, nightmares. They had only gotten worse since his accident, Logan had mentioned.
He hesitated before turning around, but he knew he didn’t have the guts to leave him like that. He was loyal to him. His hands were practically shaking as he nervously brushed the hair out of Roman’s face and shushed him, “shh, it’s ok.. there you go, there you go bud. You ain’t got anything to fear, Ro.”
Slowly, Roman stopped his twisting and turning, quieting down. Still, there was the slightest furrow to his brow and Virgil couldn’t help the fond way he sighed. He leaned down over him, brushing a finger over his brow as he kissed his forehead.
As soon as he drew back up, there was a hand softly grasping at his wrist, and it took all his willpower to pull out of the grip. “I know,” he said as he fit the sheets back over Roman, “I don’t want me to leave either.”
It wasn’t hard to open the house door silently and it wasn’t hard to pace down the stone path without his boots or cane making a noise. No, that wasn’t hard, he had practiced. It was hard to not look back. It was so hard, to swallow his guilt and grief and not look at those unlit windows. 
He kept walking anyway.
Their house was near the edge of the woods, so he knew it wasn’t going to be a very long walk. Still, his entire body ached and he stumbled down the path as it turned from stone to gravel, then to dirt, then to overgrown grass. Brambles thickened on either side of the trail.
Finally, he reached the edge of the woods, and it was just as great and imposing as he remembered. Dark, thick leaves hung overhead and any trace of moonlight would be gone as soon as he passed under those trees. He knew he wouldn’t need the light, the path painstakingly memorized but the darkness felt endless nonetheless. 
With one deep breath he pushed between the leaves and made his way onto a deer path carved in the grass. There was just the barest shine from moonlight that managed to worm its way between leaves, and he thanked the heavens for that.
Every passing step through, though, had the moon’s light fading until pure black clawed at the edges of his vision and he could barely see his own boots. The old growth of the forest thickened around him as he went on.
He kicked through undergrowth and slapped at brambles with the edge of his cane. Thick brambles and thorns caught on the edges of his pants, as if the forest itself was pleading with him to head back, but he simply kicked through and continued. No matter what anyone said, he had a duty.
The walk was an hour at most, but it felt like ages. Every step he took he wanted nothing more to turn around and bolt home, but he was not a coward. He was loyal to a default; he would not give up when he was needed. Even if he couldn’t think to call himself a good person, he payed his debts.
Even with the misery, he had a slight bit of company. The sounds of nature churred around him; a breaking stick and then the delighted chirp of grasshoppers, a shrill whistle cry of a bird and then a distant splash from a pond out of his view. The closer he got to his destination, the louder and more frequent the noises became; an accompanying orchestra. He didn’t know if it was a hopeful heroic swell or a tragic one.
Finally, the woods started to clear around him; giving up on fighting him. Slowly, at first, brambles let up and the barest glint of moonlight shone through the trees, and then all at once as the last bit of undergrowth caught on his boots and he stumbled into the clearing.
It was uncomfortably beautiful. The full moon was bright, shining and hearty (he was sure it had been a half-moon when he had entered, but he didn’t think that mattered where he was.) The stars glittered above head along with it and it felt like they were winking down at him for some inside joke he was now in on.
The main thing that caught his eye, however, was the ring of mushrooms. They were stark, bright red and it briefly reminded his of Roman’s garish sash - then it reminded him of his blood, and his heart sank. It was fine, he told himself, he was making it up now.
He took a few paces ahead and then dropped to his knees right in front of the faery ring, carefully and slowly removing the pack from his shoulder and unloading the contents. Milk, honey, and a bowl. Perfect.
A strange sense of calm came over him as he placed the bowl in the farthest point of the ring. It was a painful, aching calm; like he was planning his own funeral. A singular mourner holding vigil for his own life, a living corpse. It was grim, but more than fitting.
The milk and honey smelled disgustingly sweet as he poured them both into the bowl, even if his hands were shaking. The moon and the stars glowed overhead like lanterns - no, eyes, eyes burning into the back of his skull. They waited to see what he would do next; lions waiting to pounce on him.
As soon as the contents were poured out, he lifted himself up with cane and took a step into the circle. His body rocked with invisible force until he dropped and was kneeling, hands desperately wrapped around the still up-right cane like in prayer. It wasn’t really that funny to him, but he didn’t try to move.
Instead, he bowed his head, terror suddenly pounding through his ribs and lungs like a horribly off tune song. Grief ran through jaw and throat, wrapping around it like a snake and making it hard to breath. Grief for himself and grief for growing old with them. Even if he knew he needed to do this, he missed home.
Still, through the aching pain, a deep, indescribable burning set ablaze in his finger tips and deep in his chest, and every spot where Roman’s nimble fingers would cart through his hair when he needed it. He thought that warmth might be called loyalty.
“I have an offering,” his voice was more hoarse than he had expected, but it was good enough. For a brief, but completely nauseating moment, nothing happened. The stars continued to blink above and moonlight danced in his vision.
Then blood welled through the grass, and the earth became an open wound. Dirt pushed itself apart and away, grass seeming to sway to avoid what was crawling out of the earth. Blood and sap, wood and flesh arose all at once in a spiraling tower of something, something that should not exist. Skin knit over pulsating, ugly flesh and a pair of eyes stared at him for something that was supposed to be a face.
Finally, something human like was formed. Human-like, because those few seconds taught Virgil that whatever fae were, they were not human. It stared down at him, a strange blank curiosity on its features. 
As he stared back at it, something suddenly clicked in his brain and he was sure he was going to be sick. He wanted to be wrong, but the only question left was a simple one. Why the hell was Roman here?
No; it wasn’t exactly Roman, but at the same time.. it could only be him. It was a strange, gross sight. The same dorky smile that showed just one too many teeth, but the teeth were as sharp as blades. The same striking green eyes, but an odd cold rested behind them.
The figure - person - fae, fae, had scars littering up and down his skin and ungodly green eyes and a wide smile. Passion and adventure and want burned behind his eyes but it was wrong, scarily feral, scarily.. animal. 
At a closer look, he was far too old as well. A decade older than Roman, at least. Age weighed on his face in the form of crows feet and a thick mustache, the same color as his hair. It was as dark as Romans, to be sure, but colder - without the red tinting it warm.
Was this.. some fucked up joke? Was this a near death hallucination? Or maybe, maybe this was the first form of torture planned for him, a reminder of why he was here. Either way, the sight made it hard to breath.
The fae spoke first, “I’m Remus, your local fae prince.” With the word Remus sickness and the cold scent of pinewood rushed through Virgil so hard he leered. The prince of the fae, the actual fucking fae, just gave him his name. Freely, just as that.
Virgil realized what it was a second later - a show of power. A quiet, but impactful way to remind Virgil that no matter what information he had, no matter how hard he fought, he was powerless here. It made his heart sink.
“Thank you,” Virgil whispered and in the same breath he cringed from his own words. Right, no thanking them. How had he forgotten? “I’m here to offer myself to you, on one condition.” It felt incomprehensibly stupid to speak of conditions when he was on his knees.
“I love conditions!” The too-shrill voice practically squawked out, leaning one elbow on Virgil’s cane nonchalantly. “What do you want, little stormcloud?” He grinned down at Virgil, clearly awaiting his response with delight.
“.. I have a friend,” Virgil carefully avoided his name, “he is gravely injured and, though stable, will not survive winter like this. I have another friend - he is trying to make a remedy. Theres one last ingredient he needs, a flower - oleander.”
Remus gave him a look, a single eyebrow raised at him. “Stormy - can I call you stormy? - Cool, thanks. Oleanders a poison, at least to you little.. flesh beasts. I don’t think your thinking of the right flower. It’d be cool to poison him and all, but y'know - doublechecking.”
Virgil thought over the words for a second, because he knew it couldn’t be a lie - even though that was exactly what his knee-jerk reaction wanted to say. After a second, he forced, “no offense, but I trust his medical knowledge more than yours.”
“Well, if you insist,” Remus shrugged then grinned, “still, that’s all you ask for your life!? Most ask for more than that. Money, power, fame, love - and lust~, of course,” the creature wiggled his eyebrows and Virgil bit back the urge to gag. “You can ask for more, you know. A lifes worth more than a flower.”
Virgil looked up, mildly stunned by what he heard. Was Remus.. trying to help him? The thought sent a feeling of vertigo through him, but he hesitantly spoke, hand picking each word that slipped out of his mouth, “there won’t be any extra.. stipulations because of this, will there?”
“Nah! I’m just bored, you see, and I love doing those little tasks for you mortals. They always go through the same cycles. First their filled with delight and shock at their new gifts, then grief and disgust as they ask why their daughter, or lover, or brother has went.” Remus turned his head back and practically cackled through out.
“.. Alright,” Virgil knew the fae couldn’t lie, and he couldn’t find much of a loophole in the words, no matter how.. depressing. “Some money to be comfortable for the following years, good fertile land to plant on, and a hunters blessing. For my family, please.” Virgil stared down for a reason he himself didn’t quiet understand.
Remus looked down at him with a strange expression. It took Virgil a moment to process it as curiosity, but before he could comprehend that, the fae spoke. “Man, you’re weirdly humble. Don’t even want any good shit! Or just, well, shit. Do you know how many farmers have asked for good manure?” He turned his head back and laughed, before looking back down, “well, they don’t usually offer their life for it.”
Virgil turned his gaze to the side. The words weirdly burnt at his chest. It was the reminder, he realized. He wanted to go home so fucking bad. The rough dirt made his knees ache and his hands blistered against the wood he held so tight and he wanted nothing more than to step out of the mushrooms, come home, and hug his family so close he didn’t have words for it.
“Will you stop mocking me?” Virgil hissed through his teeth, fear burning in his heart at every word that slipped out of his mouth without his permission, “I just want to get sacrificied in fucking peace before I spend the rest of eternity dancing as my skin burns off and muscles rot away, and- and-” suddenly, it was hard to breath. His lungs felt tiny and air was too large to choke down.
The fae thing gave him a strange look from where he hovered over Virgil, watching him have a panic attack like he was a mildly interesting rock. After a weird long moment of that, he spoke with delight, “wow are you killing yourself by self-suffocation!? That’s so cool!” 
That startled a laugh out of Virgil’s chest, then a few awkward coughs as his body readjusted to breathing again. He stared up at Remus awkwardly. “Nobody’s had a panic attack while sacrificing themselves to you before me?” He choked out.
Remus propped his hands up on his hips. “Not until you, stormy! You’re the first,” he said without a single sense of the weight of the words. For a fae, creature known for their odd but strict manners, he was wildly impolite.
Virgil couldn’t help but cringe with it, then awkwardly bark out a few laughs. “I can’t even kill myself right, can I?” He didn’t realize what he was saying until the words came out of his mouth, and then he closed said mouth tight.
The fae was giving him another one of those peculiar looks again before continuing to speak. “Man, is this meant to be your suicide? You’re like, really bad at that then because I have no plans to kill you!” The grin was strangely warm, now.
“Look, I- I’m gonna be basically dead by the end of this anyway. No old life to get back to,” he sighed quietly, before asking, like a slight plea, “can we get this over with, now? I don’t wanna spend longer here.”
The smile dripped off Remus’s face and Virgil felt oddly guilty. “Well, if you’re so impatient, then lets get this over with, stormcloud. You know what to do to stop it. Just give me your name.” The weight of the phrase was more than ever.
Suddenly, hearing the words - Virgil realized how badly he didn’t want to get it over with. Like a desperate idiot avoiding the death he handed himself, he stalled. “What, you don’t want this to end? You having fun chit-chatting here?” He said easy as you please, tilting his head to the side. The false confidence was familiar.
That startled a laugh out of Remus, who cackled so loud and shrill that Virgil could hear the birds flee. “Wow, seems like our little stormy has himself a sharp tongue. Wonder how long that will last you.”
“Long as it takes for you to get tired of me and cut it off,” Virgil hissed through his teeth, a sly grin on his face. It felt as natural as breathing, and just as fulfilling as it. Something that he knew from memory.
He realized the memory was of Roman.
Remus didn’t notice his realization of course and continued without a single hitch, “I wonder if it will be like a lizard tail, still wriggling and writhing after I cut it out of your wordy little mouth! I mean, I’m sure I can make that happen.”
Virgil faked a gag and turned his gaze up to Remus again, “you’re real disgusting y’know, for being a fae, a creature of manners and politeness, you’re real gross. How do you even get away with your wordy little mouth?” Virgil asked, half teasing and half genuine.
“Well, manners are oh so subjective,” Remus grinned, seemingly preening with delight at this fact, “and so, with just a little bit of squirming around through loopholes and the like - you really can get away with most things.” His satisfied grin seemed to light up the clearing.
Or maybe that was the sunrise, peaking over the horizon like an unwelcome guest. Remus turned his head back to stare at it. “Oops! Looks like your time is up, my dearest storm. No more stalling~.” He turned back to Virgil. “May I have your name?”
The words carried the weight of ten thousand stones.
Virgil knew what to do though, and he spoke his name, tearing it out of his throat and soul as the sun rose along with bile in his throat and as the moon fell along with his bloody heart. He whispered the first two words that would be in his obituary, “Virgilius Sentinel.”
A coldness wrapped around him, tight and binding. It was like a promise; a cruel, sickening promise, the type that edged on threat. His body shook, lungs wheezing through breaths that couldn’t make it all the way into him. 
Even though he could still see Remus above him, staring down at him with that cruel grin and hands on his hips, he could feel his hands on his face, holding him still. They were as cold as he imagined, but not as painful.
Despite the terror, breaths slowly became easier as his body became more used to the feeling, the control, the vulnerability of it all. He adjusted to it, the world spinning around him as he learned to breath with smaller lungs. Maybe, this wouldn’t be as painful as he worried.
Right as he adjusted, though, there was a sudden burning in his chest and around his lungs. It was the kindest fire and the sweetest pain, and his lungs were aching as if he had managed to breath too much. It felt familiar; it felt like being held by warm and gentle hands. The fire chased off the cold.
As suddenly as the flame overtook him, it drew back. The feeling of being held turned to the feeling of being dropped, and the cold leapt back in as soon as the warmth left him. He shook just a little with the nauseating feelings. No matter the attempt at a fight, it was too weak.
Still, it left a small thought: something else had its own claim on him, separate from Remus’s. He silently reeled from that, but before he could think too hard he heard that barking shrilling laugh again and the world fell from under his feet.
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suntoru · 2 months
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hello!!!! first time in your message box(is this what it called...if it ain't obvious I'm new to tumblr..dw let me cook I'll figure it out) saw how you want people to rant about their selfships and let me just place my one of my favorite self ships isatina (isagai x my lovely self insert Photina) and also sorry this is probably going to be long post since i tend to ramble A LOT
they're literally my cuties that I want to frame in my wall, and just squeeze them tightly. they're so friends to lovers coded and the boy next door coded as well
it's so bad to the point I have their whole love story and future plan but I'm going to start at their first meeting First Meeting:
At the time, Photina was still pretty new to the neighborhood as she was originally from America but her parents both loved to travel though they settled in Japan because of how much they enjoyed the people, food, culture, etc! She had just gotten out of her shopping spree and as she was walking her way home, she found herself making multiple wrong turns.
One thing to note, Photina is a bit of a drama queen(cause I am a bit of a drama queen) she was already thinking she'd never be able to make it home. Isagai riding his bike from school, notices her and his first thought is how this poor girl looks like a lost puppy with the kindness of his heart, he helps her look for her house, and as they walk they get to know each other (thanks to Photina social nature)
They realized that they were neighbors and yes Photina is very embarrassed by that...
god they're so dlskhglashgsihghlghlgaskhl okay i'm having a moment...now I gotta talk about how they got together
How They Got Together:
Ever since their first meeting, they started to hang out more often but they wouldn't grow romantic attraction until Photina attended school a week later. Photina was pretty social but not social enough that she was popular, but enough that she made some other friends and that's also including Isagai. Though she'd always prefer to hang out with him more than anyone she met at school.
Honestly, due to them getting close, I think its fair to say that Isagai lets Photina ride the bike with him home. The more they hung out, the more Photina started to grow a crush on him.
Photina realizes that she has a crush, please my girl literally just cursed herself(me too twin...me too) but now every time she's in her room her mind wanders to what he's doing, and loses to temptation and texts him. As soon she talks to him, they will not go to bed till midnight(it's her fault)
She even appears at every sports event and is his biggest supporter. She has no clue about soccer and she doesn't even like going to sports events but if its Isagai, she'll make an exception...kisses her she so me(no shit...)
When Isagai goes to Blue Lock, the poor girl is punching the wall(figuratively) she just missed her chance to confess
For Isagai, I think he won't even notice his own feelings till the U-20. He's a whole soccer nerd through and through, he'll notice that he feels weird when she hangs out with him but just thought that's how it was with her. Until he saw her at the stadium with his parents, cheering him on and it seemed he could only hear her. During the whole Blue Lock experience. I think he'll definitely start to miss her dearly and so seeing her, just makes him fall harder.
When Isagai goes on that break from Blue Lock, he's definitely going to her and confessing his feelings. Photina is crying but its happy tears and also she cries whenever her feelings are intense.
OKAY LAST POINT I SWEAR...i just got to bring in my fav hcs for them..
Headcanons:
Photina being African-American, she definitely had put Isagai into some. So every time Isagai visits her place, they're just relaxing with each other company while R&B and old hip-hop is playing
Photina doesn't know how to bike and opts to ride with Isagai, she's definitely clinging to his body while speaking about her day
Photina is a yapper like I am and I feel Isagai would most definitely be a listener
Photina enjoys having a deep conversation especially for the future, so they definitely have a whole note on things to do for the future
trust I'm so normal about them...yea i didn't think it was going to be this long but ykw i can't help myself when it comes to my bookie bears and ugh I need to make a mood board for them soon... tell me your thoughts and hope you're having the most glorious wonderful day !!!
HIIIII OMG SORRY SORRY THIS IS SO LATE I WAS SO BUSY TODAY HELP 😭😭😭🙏 created a silly little moodboard for u n mr isagi <3 
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and omggg photina sounds like such a qt plssssssjjajdj :ccc BEING A DRAMA WUEEN IS SO REAL THE SELF INSERTINF INTO OCS IS ACTUALLY SO MECORE HELLEODK
AND OMG ISAGI IS SUCH A SWEETIE HE’D ACTUALLY SO DO THAT!! HELP THE REALIZATION TJAY UR NEIGHBOURS I WOULDVE ACTUALLY CRIED OF EMBARRASSMRNT PLS 😭😭🙏
riding a bike with him to and from school PLS OMG THAYS SO KEJEJFJEJJD like holding his waist tightly as u both talk abt the latest gossip or wtv and he makes extra care to make his turns soft so u don’t accidentally fall off and hurt urself AHHH!!
AND HELP THE REALIZATION U HAVE A CRUSH AND CURSING URSELF 🥲 INSANELY REAL
AND TEXTING TILL MIDNIGHT THATS SO SWEET OMG IMAHIJE ONE OF U FALLS ALSEEP MID TYPE AND IT JUST LOOKS LIKE THEYRE WRITING SMTH WITH THE THREE DOTS AND THEY WAIT PATEINTLY FOR THE RESPONSE BUT END UP FALLING ALSEEP WITH THEIR PHONE IN THEIR HAND
thinking of him every moment every hour every second of the day girlll photina i relate so hard 😛 ANDNJEJEJSJSN BEING THEIR BIGGEST SUPPORTER >>> SHES SO CUTE PLS LIKE SHE DONT GOT A CLUE WHATS GOING ON BUT!! HE’S KICKING A BALL AND PEOPLE R CHEERING SO HE’S DOING GOOD RIGHT?? (his team is losing but it’s the thought that counts)
BRO WHEN HE GOES TO BLUE LOCK ID FEEL SO BAD FOR PHOTINAAAAAA he probably feels so guilty for leaving but he’s also confused about his own feelings, because this has been his dream ever since he’s been little so then why does it feel so wrong to go?? but she’d probably convince him to go bc she knows how much of a big deal it is to him and push him to go even tho she wants him to stay 😭😭
he’d def feel homesick while he’s there bc he doesn’t have his person w him :cc she’s not there to laugh at their little inside jokes and she’d know all the right words to encourage him!! 
CAN U IMAGINE THE LITTLE SMILE HE’D HAVE ON HIS FACE ONFNFJDJSH LIKE AT FIRST HE HAS HIS GAME FACE ON BUT THEN HIS EYES FIND HERS IN THE CROWD AND HIS HEART THUMPS A LITTLE FASTER IN HIS CHEST AND A GOOFY GRIN IS PLASTERED ON HIS FACR AND NOW ALL HE CAN THINK ABOJT IS THAT HE HAS TO WIN FOR HER!! after all she showed up just for him 🥹
AND THE CONFESSION OMG HED BE SO FLABBERGASTED WITH HIS FEELINGS. LIKE IT JUST DAWNS ON HIM ONE DAY THAT HIS FEELINGD AREN’T JUST FOR FRIENDS, FRIENDS DONT WANT TO FEEL THEIR LIPS CLASH, FRIENDS DONT THINK ABOUT HOW THEIR EYES SPARKLE IN THE SUN OR YHAT THEIR SMILE IS THE PRETTIEST!! it would be so sweet he’d be so scared of rejection cause what is he supposed to do if his soulmate doesn’t like him back?? probably thinks he said something wrong when she starts crying and apologizes immediately but thinks it’s so cute that you’re sensitive ☹️
OMG ISAGI WOULD BE SO READY TO LEARN EVERY LITTLE DETAILLL automatically likes everything she likes bc she makes it cool 🔥 listening to music while cuddling and enjoying each others presence after a long dayyyyyy the way he’d look at photina like she hung all the stars in the sky and whispers adorations to her JEHSJHSJAN
I THINK HE’D DIE IF SHE LEARNED HOW TO RIDE A BIKE BC HE LOVED THE FEELING OF HER CLINGING ONTO HIM, HER BACK PRESSED AGAINST HIS AS PINK TINTS HIS CHEEKS JEHDJS probably looks back like five hundred times to make sure she’s ok but almost ends up crashing into a telephone pole bc he was too busy looking at her <3
PLEASE HE’S ONE OF THE GIRLIES HE’S INVESTED IN WHAT SHE’S YAPPING ABOUT LIKE… TOMATOES AREN’T REALLY VEGETABLES R U SERIOUS??? WHO SAID WHAT TO WHO? THE ENGLISH TEACHER CHEATED ON THE SCIENCE TEACHER WITH THE GYM TEACHER??? type to have really expressive facial expressions so it makes it x1000 times funnier :(
late night talks with each other where one sneaks to the others room and you guys just  talk and talk and talk about their future and they’re so in sync w plans :ccc THEY’RE DEAD SET ON GETTING MARRIED AND THEY SURE AS HELL ARENT BREAKING UP FOR SOME SHITTY EXCUSE LIKE ‘long distance is too hard’ OR SMTHHHXHEHD they have plans plans. and she yaps until suddenly he realizes she stopped and when he turns to look at her he realizes she’s asleep AND TUCKS HER INTO HIS BED, LETTING HER REST AGAINST HIS SIDE AS HE BRUSHES A STRAY STRAND OF HAIR AGAINST HER FACE WITH A SMILE AS HE KISSES HER NOSE GOODNIGJT SHHH
pls i ship so hard 4lifer
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meat-wentz · 1 year
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Could you maybe give me some band recommendations I need a second band to obsess over lol
oh my gosh yes
these are kind of on constant rotation throughout my life:
dear and the headlights- hey listen do you ever wanna get punched in the fucking chest by a band that only has two albums and can lyrically slap you in the face with the most yearning you've felt ever in your life probably? then dear and the headlights is the band for you, these guys sound like they lost their virginity in a field in michigan and never got over the heartbreak of it all. midwesty sounding post-emo (despite being from arizona). both albums are some of my fave albums ever.
electric six- camp as fuck, the campest band, so fucking fun with real sick tunes. dick valentine frontman of ever. great videos. rock and roll and sexy sex and songs that make you feel what it must be like to be a handsome penis probably. fire is my fave album it's just full of wall to wall bangers.
bayside- i don't nearly see enough bayside appreciation as i thought i would on here, but bayside is just oh my god they're the most "cooler older brother" emo band out there they make me feel like i need to fucking punch drywall and get drunk off shitty beer in a garage and start yellin and they legit did not have to go that hard on the video for devotion and desire, i think about those hot nuns on the daily. my personal fave albums are bayside, acoustic, the walking wounded, and sirens and condolences.
bright eyes- man conor really just does it for me. always has always will. fave albums are lifted and fevers and mirrors.
pierce the veil- i will occasionally see ptv appreciation on the dash which makes my whole heart soar. i love ptv. they don't miss. every album is a banger, their new album is a banger. i would literally throw my whole body in front of a moving vehicle for jaime. literally have never gotten over so many ptv lyrics like "i'm gonna tear out the thread one by one from your skin till your bones feel embarrassed from all the attention." bruh. fave albums are selfish machines, collide with the sky, and the jaws of life.
the bluetones- my babies i want to hold them i want to cradle them i am obsessed with them. this is music to stare out car windows to for all occasions and emotions. fave albums are return to the last chance saloon and science & nature. (the basement song, sleazy bed track, if, autophilia or how i learned to stop worrying and love my car are all songs that make me feel inexplicable).
anyways here's some more on rotation:
brandston
braid
the promise ring
skating polly
failure
be your own pet
metric
tricot
fall of troy
speedy ortiz
fountains of wayne
jawbox
joyce manor
the replacements
the rapture
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thegreymoon · 1 year
Text
Till the End of the Moon
I took a long break from this show because it just wasn’t sparking joy. As of episode 9, Li Susu easily tops the list of my most hated leads. Sorry, Bai Lu, I will love JJ forever, but this role just isn’t it. When she punched Tantai Jin when he was weak and dying and called him “ungrateful”, she lost the last of my good will that Love is Sweet was still providing her with. In the meantime, I got spoiled for this drama’s shitty ending and the level of rage I felt was honestly unhealthy, so I felt it was for the best if I didn’t continue watching for a while. 
With that said, I did curse myself when I said I would watch this drama just for LYX and the costumes even if everything else turned out to be terrible, and... well. Everything else is terrible. I am so mad and disappointed, but I am going to give it another try. However, this is likely to be a hatewatch from now on, so if that bothers you, please don’t read my posts or block the tag “tteotm spoilers”. 
Honestly, even Broker made me less angry, which really does not bode well, but I guess my expectations for this show were simply too high and now I am paying the price. 
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Yay, the fox spirit.
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THEY SHOULD BE!!
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But, alas, we cannot have good things. 
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He’s probably my favourite character here (minus Tantai Jin and his pets) because he gives me such strong Taxian-Jun vibes.
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Crumbs. But I am taking them. 
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Nice 🔥🔥
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Please let’s kill someone already. 
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GOOD WORK, BABY!! NOW GO FORTH AND KILL SOME MORE!
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We love to see it!!
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I see no downsides 🙄
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He’s just asking for death at this point. 
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Mood.
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I think that, in addition to all the other problems I have with this show, xianxia just isn’t for me. 
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Oh, I thought she would be dead for sure.
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Good for him!
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I will take the good things while they last. 
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The way all these supposedly “good” characters annoy me 🙄
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HOW IS HE MALICIOUS? YOU ATTACKED HIM!! 
I am just so done with this drama’s “Oh, we only starved, beat and abused you! How dare you fight back, you ungrateful wretch!” attitude 🙄🙄
The entire premise of this show makes no damn sense. 
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mydigitaldiaryz · 3 months
Text
Entry Log # 1
Lengthy post about my day , so I'll leave it under the read more part to whoever wants to read it.
TW ; talks of attempting ( don't worry, didn't actually try to . ) , cutting
Today was supposed to be the day that I do it . Keyword, supposed to . Yet, I still decided not to, and I'm genuinely proud of myself that I went against it . I'm not sure if it was just out of fear or compassion for my loved ones because I know that I would hurt them if I did .
I even treated myself nicer than usual today . I cut myself less than my usual daily count, I ate great food, I took a shower, played some games with friends, and ultimitely had a great time . I don't even know why I did it, it was just that feeling that maybe, just maybe, I should be kind to myself than hate myself, because truth be told, I was so close to buying those bottles of pills just so I could down them right at night .
I even had great meals . I ate my leftover mac and cheese that I made the day before, which was great, and I also made breakfast the same way my mom made them for me and my brothers when I was younger, slightly underdone and barely reaching a dark brown, slices of thoroughly cooked bacon, sunny-side eggs, and also some coffee since I didn't have any orange juice . It was nice to have .
Days before I even had a small secret poll that would decide which types of pills I would take too, Benadryl, Tylenol, or sleeping pills . Of course it was under the influence of a gift for my friend, only the initials of what I was going to take labeled on the options . Honestly though , I already knew what I should be taking , the sleeping pills . I've heard too many bad stories of what it was like to take over-the-counter type of allergy medication, and I heard sleeping pills were better, so I was going to opt for those instead .
What's funny to me is that I've heard souls meet one last time before passing . That's what my older brother had told me once while visiting his friend's crashsite of where she had died, explaining the story of how he and his other friends got to hang out with her one last time before going . Recently, I've been meeting friends again, hanging out with them and speaking to them . That's what my entire week was like , and today too . Three friends for today . I'm guessing that's some sort of sign I might be passing soon, and I hope it does happen . I know it might just be a stretch, thinking about all this superstitious and supernatual types of things but I guess fake it 'till you make it .
It's also funny to me because the past month or so I've been pushing people away without even realizing it until now . Only these past few weeks/days I've been purposely self/sabotaging myself . Maybe that's also a sign that I might try soon ( and be successful ) . I kind of wish I didn't have to push people away, but I don't want them to hurt anymore than I already have while being alive, and I know it probably will pack a punch if I do end up passing so I just want to loosen the blow when I do . I wish I could just tell them to treat me as if I'm already dead, but god knows how lonely I would be without them if I fail . At that point , I think I would just be an alive corpse, since I hate being alone and sad .
I'm sort of disappointed and glad at the same time . Maybe it was just wrong timing for me and I shouldn't have done it yet , or maybe ever . I have conflicted feelings about trying, but I can tell that I will probably do an actual attempt somewhere in my life . I hope but also don't want that time to come . I'm not really ever sure when it comes to my life anyways . But all being said, I'm tired . It's 2:47 am and I have school tomorrow . To the person reading this right to the end, goodnight and thank you for reading .
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pastelitey · 6 months
Note
For the ask game:
28 & Scar?
send me a number 1-100 and i'll write a drabble based on the song it lines up with on my spotify wrapped!
cw: cops, jail setting, implied drinking and/or driving
Scar rests the side of his head against the slick brick wall, the cold plastic of the phone pressed firmly against the other side of his face. The presence of the stormy-eyed cop lingers over him like an approaching storm, reminding him of his foolish mistakes.
The line rings distantly in his ear. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring.
He curses under his breath, already regretting dialing this specific number. He should have called Cub, yet here he is, wasting his one call on someone who probably won't even pick up.
Just as the phone rattles off what Scar assumes is the last ring, someone finally picks up.
"Hullo?" comes Grian's sleepy voice out of the grainy speaker. Scar lets himself smile, triumphant in his assumption that Grian would still be awake this late.
"Grian! It's me, Scar!" he says excitedly.
He can faintly hear Grian groan from the other end. "Why are you calling me from an unknown number? Don't tell me you left your phone at my place again."
"No no, that's not it. It's actually. Um. Worse."
"Scar. What did you do."
Scar winces in anticipation, bracing for a punch in the arm from the other man despite the distance between them. "I need you to come bail me out."
"You got arrested?" Grian shrieks, prompting Scar to pull the phone away from his ear to avoid hearing damage.
"Please don't be mad!"
"What happened?"
Scar's face flushes and he lowers his voice. "That doesn't matter! Can you just get over here and bail me out? I miss Jellie!"
"Are you drunk?"
"Gri, please."
Grian yawns loudly and it doesn't give Scar much hope. "No can do, man. You're gonna have to wait 'till morning, I need my beauty sleep."
Scar gawks, stammering before he can find his words. "You're just gonna leave me here? That's not what friends do!"
"You're the one who went and got yourself arrested. I'll come get you in the morning."
Scar groans in frustration, pulling on his hair that is in desperate need of a haircut. "Can you at least go over to my house and feed Jellie? The key's under the pot by the window—"
"Bye Scar!"
The line cuts out and Scar calls Grian's name a couple more times before angrily hanging it back up on it's post. He turns to look at the cop keeping an eye on him, feeling a bit like a rained-on cat.
"He hung up on me," he says, as if it wasn't obvious.
The stormy-eyed cop's expression flashes with sympathy for a moment. "That's rough, man."
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madzigness · 11 months
Text
Somehow Taurus has returned
If you want to skip the purple text the fun is after it, the purple text is just my ramblings relating to an AU I imagined for this specific scenario.
Yes the title is a star wars reference, yes I'm not proud of it. This technically would deserve a bumblebee ship tag, but I ain't ready for all the death threats I'd get if I included it and if you are wondering if Blake doesn't appear in this post for the same reason, the answer is no, because if that was my reason for excluding her I would have also left out Yang as her fans are bound to hate this and me, but I didn't. For the people wondering how Adam would return in this AU that I have come up with for this one song, I am actually working on another post with a different song that gives context to it I will give some spoilers it will involve the daughter or son unsure with which I'll chose of Yang and Blake being dissatisfied with how the treatment of faunus continues to fail to improve so he or she will start to look into all the figures ever involved with fighting for the faunus rights and get fixated on Adam as all the surrounding people will not allow her to learn about that person, this already lets you guess what song I'm going to use. Rubys name is colored with orange because Adam was my choice for red and I didn't want two characters to have red names. Well that's probably all I wanted to ramble about on to the show.
Steven Universe - Other friends.
We start of looking over a city with many streets of it on fire and grimm running around, as three older woman one wearing mostly white, other red and black, the third Yellow and brown fight of the black ink monsters. On a building overlooking the specific street all three of the women where on walks out a man with red hair and one bull horn and another one grimm like bone larger than the other horn, the crackling of flames car alarms, shouts of humans all those sounds are overpowered when he starts to speak deafening all the girls of all other sound to only hear him.
(Adam) “Well, well, well, well, well!
Lemme get a look at the menagerie!”
He holds out his hands like a filmmaker imitating a camera with his arms, the horned man firstly focuses on the red girl.
(Adam) “You must be Ruby”
Then his arms move to the white one.
(Adam) “You must be Weiss”
Then the angriest smile possible forms on his lips as he jumps down the building landing on a car caving in its roof he motions with his hand energetically at the last woman.
(Adam) “And Belladonnas spouse, wow, she took you with her, isn't that just swell?”
The part grimm faunus jumps of the cars side turns to look at the lilac-colored eye girl and slashes at the car’s doors with his grimm hand, it’s fangs cleaving though metal like it was butter.
(Yang) ”It can't be!”
Fear crosses the blonds face as she fully recognizes who stand before her.
(Adam) “Oh, but it can be!
And it is!
I got a new style and a few new toys that are gonna put an end to your happily ever after, once and for all!”
He draws his sword out with his faunus hand while throwing of the coat covering his body revealing how much of him is grimm.
(Ruby) “Whoa, whoa! This has gotta be a misunderstanding, in case you haven't heard, I've established peace across the-“
The devil man cuts her off with laughter that last for a few seconds till he finally speaks.
(Adam) “Yeah, yeah, I've heard. I've had your little message to Remnant on LOOP! I just love that part, where Salem spends the rest of her days on this nowhere island with a bunch of nobodies!”
He runs at them with such speed that they only see a red and black blur.
(Adam) “That's right I heard the story over and over again”
Ruby barely dodges a slash by his sword.
(Adam) “Gee, it's swell to finally meet her other friends”
He bats away an attempted stab by the Schnee’s rapier delivering a sword handle to the stomach that launched her. Yang jumps in attempting to punch him as he easily sidesteps and dodges all her punches while singing.
(Adam) “That's right I heard the story, don't really like how it ends
Gee, it's swell to finally meet her other friends
What did she say about me? What did she say?
What did you do without me? What did you do?
Did you play games without me? What did you play?
Did you think all this time that I wouldn't find out about you?”
Ruby jumps back into the fray trying to hit him with her scythe but the man only widens his smile as he continues to dodge the assault of both Yang and Ruby effortlessly.
(Adam) “That's right I heard the story over and over again
Gee, it's swell to finally meet her other friends”
A red wave of energy throws both Yang and Ruby away they land next to recovering Weiss, black and red clones of his split of him and start running in a wide circle around the girls who struggle to find the real him.
(Weiss) “He's running circles around us!”
Ruby transforms her scythe to gun mode and fire several shots that all miss, Weiss deadpans at Ruby.
(Ruby) “I'm rusty, give me a break!”
(Yang) “It really is him, but he can't be alive!’
(Ruby) “You know him, Yang? Can you tell us who he is?”
Adam seems to appear out of the shadows themselves behind Ruby while grabbing her by the throat and lifting her up making her drop her weapon.
(Adam) “Who am I? Who am I? What are you even saying?
I'm the loser of the game you didn't know you were playing!”
Ruby tries to speak but fails, both Yang and Weiss attack him with the intention to free Ruby making Adam grin widely, while Ruby does all she can to free herself kicking and scratching at him.
(Adam) “Let's play another game this time I get to win
Lives on the line”
After dodging a fist by Yang, he looks straight into her eyes while angling his sword at Ruby.
(Adam) “Winner takes all
Ready or not
Let's begin!”
He begins to plunge the sword into Ruby, but a white light from Rubys silver eyes encompasses the vicinity, the sound of Ruby falling and hitting the ground could be heard. When the light cleared and sight returned to the three woman relief from the belief that this defeated the grimmified man was on full display on their tired faces, but it was instantly replaced by fear as they saw that the faunus still was there not encased in stone or turning to dust, rather his grimm parts where releasing ink like substance running like water or blood, the faunus part of his face and uncovered blue eye seemed to twitch and his voice grew more erratic as he swung his grimm arm black ink dissipating to dust as soon as it hit the ground he started to sing repeating himself.
(Adam) “Oh, that's right I heard the story over and over again
Gee, it's swell to finally beat her other friends
Oh, that's right I heard the story, don't really like how it ends
Gee, it's swell to finally beat her other
Other
Other friends”
He walked towards the horrified woman while raising a hand to point at his left fully whited over eye.
(Adam) “Maybe you want to try again with those eyes of yours see how well they work.”
Dark guttural chuckle is the sound he makes after finishing his speech as the world seemed to fade out to black.
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culttvblog · 1 month
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Comedy Playhouse: Elementary, My Dear Watson
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I'm not sure how this blog post is going to turn out and think it might be rather different to my usual style because the TV programme I'm writing about is radically different from most of the TV shows I have ever watched.
Don't be taken in by the fact this play was broadcast in 1973 under the Comedy Playhouse title. This show is of course a national institution, initially being started in 1961 largely as a vehicle for Galton and Simpson before ending 128 episodes later in 1975. It's unusual for a show of the time because you can see many of its episodes: there are some on the internet but they're also found scattered across the boxed sets of the shows it spawned as independent productions: Steptoe and Son, Meet the Wife, Till Death us do Part, All Gas aqnd Gaiters, Up Pompeii, Not in Front of the Children, The Liver Birds, Are You Being Served and Last of the Summer Wine. This show has spun off an incredible amount of television for one series.
Clearly we're in legendary TV territory already but what elevates Elementary, My Dear Watson above the already great stable it came from was that it was written by NF Simpson. He was a playwright who identified with the Theatre of the Absurd, which built on Albert Camus's idea that human existence is essentially abusrd, and devoid of purpose (britannica.com). The way this came out in their theatre was that they tended to get rid of plot, they abandoned the traditional structures of theatre. You will readily see that once again I am punching well above my weight, writing about this show. There isn't much of Simpson's work available to be seen because he was writing right in the middle of key TV junking time, although apparently he wrote the scripts for two episodes of The Dick Emery Show, which may or may not available. Possibly the other most available of his work is One Way Pendulum (1964) in which amongst other things, one character builds a reproduction of the Old Bailey in his front room and Jonathan Miller conducts a choir of Speak Your Weight Machines. You can tell that Elementary My Dear Watson is incredibly highbrow because of its being prominently featured by the British Film Institute.
The way Simpson's approach comes out in Elementary My Dear Watson is that you will be hard pressed to follow the plot, if indeed there is one. His style requires around short scenes, and non-sequiturs: if you haven't seen any of his work I think you would probably like this if you like Monty Python. It's a show which requires careful attention, because you easily miss some small twist and find yourself wondering what is going on. There are two main plots going on at once. There is a further theme where Jack the Ripper keeps ringing up Scotland Yard to confess but they've never heard of him. Fu Man Chu wants the main exhibit, a dead solicitor. In the middle another dead solicitor appears as the object in a spoof object of Call My Bluff. There is a further theme involving a piano tuner in drag, which is stated to be used because otherwise the show wouldn't fill the time. To cut a long story short: the ingredients of a Sherlock Holmes adventure and other Victorian adventures are mixed up a bit, moved to 1973, and given a coat of surrealism.
As you can tell, I love this show, could watch it over and over and think it's absolutely marvellous. There is another aspect which is wonderful, though, and that was casting John Cleese as Sherlock Holmes. Basil Rathbone and Benedict Crumblysnatch can just give up now because I have to say that Cleese is the Holmes we have been waiting for. Imagine the energy of Basil Fawlty applied to Sherlock Holmes, perfectly foiled by Willy Rushton as Watson, and you have the idea. There's another opportunity to watch Cleese as Holmes (or rather a descendant) in the similarly absurd The Strange Case of the End of Civilisation as We Know It (1979), which I think is also best understood as a series of sketches.
I'm not going to beat about the bush, reading the commentary online it is apparent that a small amount of Simpson's work goes a long way for a lot of people. If you want me to criticise this show I would have to say that the main problem as far as I can see is to wonder what this masterpiece of absurd theatre is doing in a comedy slot, because it's way above being a simple comedy.
I think, though, that if you watch it as what it is and don't expect a simple comedy, it had layers of absurdity which are incredibly enjoyable.
This blog is mirrored at
culttvblog.tumblr.com/archive (from September 2023) and culttvblog.substack.com (from January 2023 and where you can subscribe by email)
Archives from 2013 to September 2023 may be found at culttvblog.blogspot.com and there is an index to the tags used on the Tumblr version at https://www.tumblr.com/culttvblog/729194158177370112/this-blog
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sajaffery · 8 months
Text
unblock...2...
thank you gobstikelsa1970..although i blame you for having to break one of my earlier rules. this was supposed to be all part of the same post. which started yesterday and was supposed to continue and continue until tumblr officially decided to kick me off their website altogether for being a nuisance and a show off at which point i would be forced to roam the face of this earth with words pouring out of my fingers into the thankless earth. sorry. i kind of got ahead of myself there. but ive decided to continue this on a seperate post, titled the same with a few sad dots and a 2 at the end. perhaps my two followers wont hate me so much anymore, and they might even ask other people to follow me. although they seem to only be interested in large naked men with bulging muscles. i hope thats not why they added me for i can only ever be a large naked man with a bulging stomach. they might be into that, after a few beers, maybe a couple of tequila shots and five hundred years of solitude. another cliched literary refernce. see earlier post for reference and explanation for terrible grammer and spelling. fuck dead white old men! were they old? i cant remember. and I cant go back and check either. you certainly can. but you wont. because youve got better things to do, like continue reading this post. emoticon alert. okay this is starting to get repetitive. I’m making the same jokes as yesterday. its probably a good thing i cant go back and reread my posts because then i definietely would be cracking the same jokes again and again. or i might be able to build on them and improve them. isnt that what all writers do? Bukowski certainly does. I’ve read three books by him and countless short stories and it seems to be the same books over and over again with very similar characters, especially women. doing the same things over and over again and him just finding us better ways to tell us about it. so I guess I can do that. but I cant rered what I wrote yesterday so I cant. and I’m not great. by any stretch if the imagination. but then neither was Bukowski. another reason why my wife cant read this, she’d pick up the laptop and smash it over my head for saying that.                          (FORCED DELETION)
I FUCKING HATE DONALD TRUMP. compared to him, i’m jesus christ. i.e. impossible to hate. everyone loves jesus, even the people who hate bible bashers because the man just talked about love. and he had cool hair. the poor guy was even ready to marry a prossi. how fucking awesome can you get. my mum called me jesus the other day because she was yelling at me and i just kept smiling at her. thats how amazing the man was. although it does kind of help the argument that he might have been deluded. even mad. huh. i didnt think of it like that. not a very nice thing for my mum to have said. hmmm. i’m blanking for a bit. oh new rule! i have to tell you, i say you even though i know nobody is reading this, and if someone is…cringe!!! but yes i have to tell you why i stopped writing yesterday because i wrote down i have to go to work but thats not good enough as an excuse because i’m actually at work as i write this. my work involves sitting behind a counter with a laptop infront of me and ignoring every customer who walks in as much as i can. yes i’m a till jocky and not the cool kind like randall from clerks, but more the sad kind like Dante because he hates being there but has nowhere fucking else to go. my parents own this place. hence my dad being a rich capitalist and my being a fake socialist. and ive been stuck here for the last six years now and i reconize 90% of the people who walk into this place and i want to punch atleast 90% of those 90%. I cant punch the rest of the 10% because theyre too fucking old. not because I like them. wow I hate a lot of people. no. no. this is just a symptom me hating myself again. it has to be I’m starting to come out like a monster in this post, my two hypersexualised followers are going to be defollowing me any second. can you find out if someone has defollowed you? do you get a little notification for that? like you do when someone is following you. such and such person is no longer following you. LOSER! me. not them. i’m the dumpee remember, not the dumper. maybe this is me. maybe this is why i’m writing this, because i cant possibly hope to tell anyone any of these things. not face to face anyway. who would want to listen? God knows I wouldn’t. except maybe if i was getting paid for it. even then. clearly ive gone through medical school or at least graduate school to be sitting there and getting paid to listen to this crap and eventually i’d reach a point where i’d want to get this person out of my room, out of my face out of my life, just as far away from me as possible, wow. i want to stop writing this now. i suddenly dont feel great. and i feel tired 
0 notes
purplesurveys · 11 months
Text
1699
If I were to yell at you right now, what would you do? Depends on what you’re yelling at me for. I’d either tell you you’re talking to the wrong person...or if you were yelling at me for something sexist or racist or anything discriminatory, I’d take a photo of you to post on social media to tell everyone to stay away from you for being a disgusting weirdo.
Do you empathize with people often? I wouldn’t say it’s a strength, but I try to do it whenever I can.
Which do you prefer, Iced Tea or Fruit Punch? Iced tea. Idk what fruit punch is and with that statement I’m guessing I’ve never had it, either.
Have you ever been stung by a bee? Never been stung by a bee and I am also terrified by bees, so I do everything to avoid them and getting stung.
Did you read Where The Wild Things Are when you were little? Nope. I don’t think I heard of it till my teenage years.
Did you ever had one of those cash register toys? Yes! I liked toys that were more interactive than others, so toys that had lots of buttons or could bend and twist and turn and stuff like that. Cash registers were one of my favorites and at one point I even had one that had an actual working conveyor belt and microphone.
Do you have a collage of family pictures somewhere in your house? It’s not anywhere close to being a collage, but if anything we have a small collection of framed family photos that line up a portion of our stairs.
How many wooden spoons are in your household? I think it’s just the one.
Are you excited to go back to school? I graduated three years ago and have no immediate need to go back.
Has anyone ever thrown a cup of liquid on you? I don’t think so. I feel like I’d find that extremely inconvenient and disrespectful even when done playfully. I’m not really that friend you can prank and splash water on.
Have you ever faked sick at school just to go home? No. I couldn’t have made that happen even if I was terrific at acting sick. They check your temperature anyway and if you didn’t exceed 37.5C the most they’d have you do is take a nap before bringing you back to class.
Do you always watch something on tv on your home sick days? The thing is I was never sick as a kid, so I never got many of those days off school. On the days I actually had a fever, I felt way too sick that I was usually asleep the entire day.
Can you recommend me a book, right now? I don’t read enough to be able to share a book reco.
Are any of your siblings friends like family to you? Not really. I’m the sibling who has a friend that my family treats like our own, and that’s Angela.
Do you prefer colouring with crayons or coloured pencils? Colored pencils. I haven’t used crayons since...grade school, maybe?
Do you watch the SuperBowl because you like football? I don’t watch the Super Bowl because American football is not big here. I’ll watch the halftime show(?) if I like the artist, but otherwise Super Bowl day is just a normal, uneventful morning on this side of the world. It wouldn’t even be on the news unless it was like Beyoncé performing.
Are you sick of all of these people trying to find love on VH1? I never watched those programs; I was too young.
Did you ever watch Beauty and the Geek? Nah.
Do you enjoy cleaning? It’s a love-hate relationship. Sometimes it’ll feel like major back-to-back chores that I just want to abandon; sometimes it’ll feel therapeutic.
Have you read any of Ellen Hopkins’ books? No.
Do you even like to read? I do like reading but I’ve found that I don’t really have the attention span for it anymore. < This is me, too. I feel like the only thing I have the attention span for these days are digital articles (if they’re informative), or memoirs. Anything else I wouldn’t last past a chapter, especially if fictional.
If your house was on fire, what would you save? Assuming both dogs are out, realistically, probably just my phone. My biggest and only priority at that moment would 100% be having a communication device to keep in touch with people. Maybe my wallet too, but if everything was a matter of life and death, I’d stick with the phone.
Have you ever pretended to have a good time for the sake of someone else? Oh, of course.
Are you good at understanding baby talk? Nah, am not around babies that much.
What wouldn’t you want anybody to steal? My debit card.
What was the last movie that you saw in the theaters? Does it count as a movie if it was a concert? Haha I watched the theatrical screening of YTC Busan earlier this year.
Have you ever gotten your clothes mixed up with your mum’s? No, I know which ones are mine.
Do you share clothes with your friends? Not really, no.
Who was the last person/thing to lick you? Cooper.
Have you ever read one of those PostSecret books? No, I don’t know what those are.
Do you have a favorite Armor For Sleep song? Never heard of them.
Can you pat your head and rub your tummy at the same time? Sure.
Have you ever changed a baby’s diaper? I actually have not.
Did you have many baby dolls when you were little? I wasn’t into dolls. My cousins are all boys, so I preferred toy guns and soldiers. I never asked for a Barbie, and when I had gotten one for Christmas I remember ultimately not using it a lot.
Does the peanut butter or jelly make the sandwich? I find the combo so unusual and I have never enjoyed it.
Have you ever kept a diary? I did until I found out my mom read through them and acted like I was wrong for lashing out. After that I switched to surveys.
Is there always a supply of KoolAid in your fridge? I have never had KoolAid.
What is your favorite show on Nick At Nite? I’m familiar with Nick At Nite, but I don’t think we ever had that here! If we did it was probably in the early 90s.
If you had the chance to live anywhere in Europe, where would it be? Norway or Finland.
Do you have a favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle? No.
Are you good at drawing self portraits? Not at all.
A plane crashes on the border of Canada. Where do you bury the survivors? You don’t bury survivors. < Well, there you go.
Do you think that you’re good at riddles? I’m terrible at them and I probably would have genuinely answered that ^ if not for seeing the previous answer.
Trix or Cheerios? Trix! It was my favorite cereal as a kid.
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