#i can think of 4 very clear moments when Kevin was trying to protect or look out for Neil | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myglogic · 3 years

Text

Priceless | Bang Chan | 02

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Pairing: rich kid! Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x female reader

Genre: Crime, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, fluff

Summary: You were ready to take Chan’s father down. Tonight is your night. Will you get away with it?

DISCLAIMER: Everything in this fanfic is fiction - that includes Chan’s fictional father who of course does not represent Chan’s real father! ♥

It wasn’t easy to find the right room, but you somehow managed to get upstairs without getting caught and that’s a miracle. You were right when you thought that no one would suspect a woman in a nice and expensive looking dress. But you still hid in corners when you heard noises and tried to be as quiet as possible.

You were still thinking about the dance you shared with Chan. You knew that he would suspect you immediately after finishing your plan but he could never find out who you really were. Never ever. During your research, you didn’t really read much about him. Some rich dads would go to public events a lot with their children to show off their successor.

But with Chan and his father, you had noticed that it was rather weird. They would go to public events together sometimes but Kevin never talked about stepping down or handing his real estate business to his son. You didn’t think that they were that close. But Chan was still asking questions and defending him. Maybe he didn’t know his father that well.

You shook off your thoughts and found yourself in front of the computer room, the room that was connected to the projector and the microphones. A scary-looking security guard was protecting the door and from the small window next to the door, you could see one man sitting inside.

Damn it. You didn’t think this through. Was this even a good idea? You were starting to doubt your plan, your hands were sweaty and you felt like you could pass out any minute. What the hell was happening with you?

Suddenly you realized that this plan was bigger than you anticipated. No, you knew how big this plan was but it dawned on you that your life could change forever if you get caught now. You were alone. Your mind was spinning.

“Sir! I think a woman passed out downstairs! You are the closest guard I could find!”, you heard a male voice sounding stressed. You recognized this voice immediately. Felix. Right after, you heard quick footsteps going downstairs.

You held your breath, hoping that the coast was clear. Then you heard another pair of footsteps walking in your direction. “Y/N? Are you here? I saw you going this way.”, Felix said quietly.

You then breathed out in relief, getting out of your hiding spot. “Felix!”, you said and hugged him tightly. “You saved my ass.”

Felix smiled at you. “I’m here for you, Y/N. You need to be more careful.”

You sighed. “I know. Thanks, really. I was starting to doubt my plan for a second.”

“Look, I’m going to get that tech dude out of the room. Then you need to lock the door and do your thing. I will try to keep them away from here okay?”, Felix told you about his plan.

You nodded, gaining more confidence thanks to Felix. “Okay. Thank you, I owe you!”

Felix quickly went into the computer room, telling the man inside that there was a major technical problem with the speaker boxes downstairs and that his immediate attention was needed. The man’s eyes widened as he hurried downstairs in panic.

He then gave you a hand sign that you can enter now. With that he went downstairs and closed the entrance to the second floor with some barriers. He just hoped that that would keep others from going upstairs. The young man was scared for your sake but he was sure that you knew what you were doing.

Right after Felix left, you went into the computer room, rapidly locking the door in panic. You quickly opened the PC that was connected to the projector and took out your stick to connect it with the computer. You seemed calm from the outside but inside you were literally dying. Your hands were shaking and you were sweating in places you never thought that you could sweat.

You looked at the sound booth and interrupted the music. The guests stopped dancing and looked around with confused and irritated expressions on their faces. From the window of the little computer room you could see the audience. You took a shaky breath and stood close to the microphone. After double checking if the microphone was on, you started talking.

“You don’t know me. But I know someone very well. You are all here because of Mr. Kevin Bang. The generous soul that everyone loves.”, you started your little speech. Then you projected some classified information about the orphanage and the hotel. “He is not as generous and kind-hearted as you think, he is the reason why the orphanage in the Daerim area of Seoul was demolished and removed. His official reason for that was that he wanted to make the area more approachable for the citizens of Seoul.”

You heard some gasps in the audience. Then a furious Kevin Bang stomped on the stage. “This is a lie!”, he shouted.

“Another example.” You switched to your next piece of evidence. “This man got a mother of five fired because she didn’t get his order right at a hotel he was staying at. Because quote ‘he had a bad day’. The woman was devastated.”, you said in a serious tone.

“STOP THIS! RIGHT NOW!”, Kevin Bang panicked as he called all the security over.

“Last one. Last one of the many incidents that happen to be connected to this man, Kevin Bang. The donations of this gala didn’t go to the charities. He only donates approximately 6 percent of the money each year. Some of the money goes to sketchy things like strip clubs or some illegal gambling in the U.S. Think it through. Do you really want to donate your money to this man?! He, Kevin Bang, is rude, unfriendly and uses everything to his own advantage!”, you shouted angrily, angry tears flowing from your eyes, especially if you think about your own family. You then quickly wiped the surfaces you touched to make sure there are no fingerprints left. You knew that there would be an active investigation. You then poured water on the electrics – making the lights go out in the building.

You noticed that the audiences where whispering and talking in shock. Panic was rising within them. You took your stick and took a deep breath. You saw a furious Kevin Bang through the window. Then you saw the security guards starting to hurry upstairs and searching every corner of the building. Just as you exited the computer room, you saw him again, in the corridor you were standing in. Your heart was beating fast in fear as you saw Chan standing right in front of you.

“So, this was your plan from the start. I should have known.”, Chan said, anger in his eyes and his tone dangerous. He took off his mask and looked you dead in the eyes.

You didn’t say anything and spotted a fire alarm. “Sorry.”, you said. You stared at his angry eyes, not even looking away. You were not apologizing for what you did but more for pressing the fire alarm next.

The guests started to scream and shout in panic. They probably thought that the gala was being attacked. A loud alarm came out of all speakers and the sprinklers on the ceiling started spraying water everywhere. Chaos broke out and everyone was running towards the closest fire exits. You then took your chance and ran away downstairs, but noticed that Chan was right behind you, trying to stop you from escaping. Good thing you still wore your sneakers before Chan could stop you. You mixed with the crowd before any security guard could see you. Everyone was wet and in panic and you used the chaotic situation to get out of that place immediately.

♥.

It was somehow a miracle that you got out of there without getting caught. Most of the guests were still there since the police wanted to question them. Because of the massive crowd, you managed to sneak away without anybody noticing. Felix texted you that he put your clothes in your car and you quickly changed into your old clothes (and wet them with a bottle of water), then went back to where the other reporters were.

“Y/N! There you are! I thought we lost you in all this chaos!”, your colleague said and sighed in relief. “And here I thought that nothing ever happens at these galas. Good thing we were here, right?!”, he said in excitement.

“Yeah. So much interesting stuff to write about.”, you said agreeing with him.

With the first exposure of Kevin Bang, you knew you could go to your boss and ask him to write the big article with every single proof you have on him. Because at least now he wouldn’t think you're crazy for wanting to write that.

The night was long but it was worth it. Your insane plan somehow worked and you were grateful that the world now saw what you saw. There was no damage control in this, because this couldn’t be covered up by anyone. For now, you finished the first step to achieving a better position at work and got a little justice for your family.

The moment you arrived home Jisung hugged you tightly. “That shit was crazy. The news talked about an attack on the gala. Are you okay?! I couldn’t reach you!”

You hugged him back and closed your eyes. “I’m fine, really… Jisung.”, you said and pushed him away lightly. “Let’s go sit down. Make me a hot chocolate.”

“Wow. Demanding much?”, he rolled his eyes but did it anyway, which you were thankful for.

After sitting down with the hot drinks, you took a deep breath. “Remember when I told you that I had something big planned for the gala?”

Jisung looked at you, confused. “Yeah…?”, he said but then it dawned on him. “No way… the news talked about some woman exposing the bad deeds of Kevin Bang.”

You just nodded. “I’m that woman.”

“Are you crazy?!”, he hissed. “That man will hunt you down! What about the cameras?!”

You smiled. “I was wearing a mask that was covering nearly my entire face. And the electrics went out. There were multiple women who wore the same type of dress as me. I also went there as a reporter. I don’t think that I will be a direct suspect.”

“Look, I know your family has a bad history with that dude but was it worth it to make you a criminal?”, Jisung said with a worried tone, putting an arm around you.

“It fucking was. You should have seen his face. Now he can’t hide his disgusting character.”, you said, content with yourself. You put your head on Jisung’s shoulder. “But thank you for worrying. Really.”

“Please be careful, Y/N. I can’t pay for the rent alone if you are in jail.”, he said, smirking.

You quickly pushed him away and started hitting him with the pillow next to you. “You asshole!”, you said and giggled.

Right at this moment you felt happy with yourself, even if something deep inside of you gave you an uneasy feeling.

♥.

The next day in the office was tense. And once again chaotic. Because every newspaper wanted to write about the mysterious woman that exposed Kevin Bang.

There were headlines like:

Who was behind the mask that wanted to introduce the REAL Kevin Bang to the world?

or,

Kevin Bang: Hero or Villain?

These were just two examples of many other articles. You didn’t want to expose yourself as the woman who did all that to your boss. But you still had more information than any other journalists. So, you wanted to show him your work and convince him to write the frontpage article.

After telling your supervisor Hana about you planning to write the frontpage article, she burst out laughing. “Girl, we are the celebrity department. What makes you think that Mr. Park would let you, out of all people, write that article?”

You looked at her, sighing. “Because I have a lot of evidence and did a lot of research! Also, I was at the gala when everything happened!”

Hana rolled her eyes at your confidence. “But you are no Mr. Lee or Mrs. Wong! You know that you need more experience to write such an article.”

“Look, I made an appointment with Mr. Park. I wanted to ask about a promotion anyway, why not ask for an article as well?”, you said, pulling your black cardigan closer to your body.

“Good luck then, Y/N. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”, Hana said and went back to her desk.

You were nervous as hell. But it turned out that Hana was right. Your boss called you inexperienced and asked you to tell him one reason why he should let you write that article. You showed him some of your work but he just dismissed it and sent you out. You had to write that article somehow and you knew how. The first thing was that you needed someone higher up who had your back and the second thing is that you needed to completely finish writing the article, then send it to your boss.

Things were tough but you weren’t giving up.

♥.

The atmosphere was tense at the Bang villa. Chan’s father was on the phone 24/7. He shouted a lot, broke some things – he was angry. Very angry. Chan couldn’t stop thinking about the girl in the dress. The girl who caused all of this. Why would you go through all this shit just to expose his father? He asked himself if you had any connections to his father and what the reason was, why you would do that? Did his father do anything to you?

He couldn’t find an answer. His father was adored by the media. His reputation was perfect. Chan asked himself if he really knew his father for a second but shook that thought off quickly. Of course, he knows his father. If not for him then who? Okay, Chan spent most of his life in Australia because he was studying there but he was in Korea for the past three years because he wanted to attend university in Korea. But that didn’t mean that he doesn’t know his own father better than anyone else.

His father was still shouting at someone on his phone. The tabloids and newspapers were all talking about him. Some even revealing more things that happened. Chan even read something about how rude he is to everyone that is not the press. He didn’t know what to think of all that, but the house became stuffy and he needed to get out of that negative energy in the house to get some fresh air. He decided to take his Tesla out for a ride because it helped him calm down for a bit. He wanted to go visit his friend Changbin, maybe play a few rounds of Fifa or something. Just getting away from the house was all he needed right now.

He was driving around Seoul, even though he wanted to go visit Changbin, he drove around for a little bit, taking longer routes and thinking about the girl he danced with. It made him angry to think about you. You were the reason his father was one of the most hated men in Korea right now. He knew that his father would do some damage control. He would sneak his way out of it probably. You were snappy the whole time you danced with Chan, he should have seen it coming from the beginning. The cameras didn’t capture you leaving the building. It was a shitty situation, but if he ever saw you again, he would make sure that you would regret what you did.

Deep in thought, Chan didn’t notice that the traffic light turned red and before he could react, his car crashed into the car in front of him, making his airbags come out. “Fuck.”, he muttered as he got out of the car.

The car in front of him was an old, beat up car. As the driver got out, he immediately apologized. “I’m really sorry! I was distracted!”

You were the driver of that car and you walked to the back of the car to see the huge damage that Chan did. At first, you didn’t notice Chan and only agonized how to repair that. Your insurance wasn’t the best, you weren’t sure if they would cover all of the costs.

With anger boiling inside of you, you turned to the apologizing man. “What the hell, dude?!”, you said, furious. Then you noticed his expensive looking car and immediately recognized the man in front of you. Christopher Bang – the name the media uses. It was none other than Bang Chan, the son of the man you hated the most. There he stood with an apologetic expression in front of you after everything that happened. Just like that.

What the hell.

59 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 2 months

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

17K notes · View notes

holyhellpod · 3 years

Photo

Holy Hell: 3. Metanarrativity: Who’s the Deleuze and who’s the Guattari in your relationship? aka the analysis no one asked for.

In this ep, we delve into authorship, narrative, fandom and narrative meaning. And somehow, as always, bring it back to Cas and Misha Collins.

(Note: the reason I didn’t talk about Billie’s authorship and library is because I completely forgot it existed until I watched season 13 “Advanced Thanatology” again, while waiting for this episode to upload. I’ll find a way to work her into later episodes tho!)

I had to upload it as a new podcast to Spotify so if you could just re-subscribe that would be great! Or listen to it at these other links.

Please listen to the bit at the beginning about monetisation and if you have any questions don’t hesitate to message me here.

Apple | Spotify | Google

Transcript under the cut!

Warnings: discussions of incest, date rape, rpf, war, 9/11, the bush administration, abuse, mental health, addiction, homelessness. Most of these are just one off comments, they’re not full discussions.

Meta-Textuality: Who’s the Deleuze and who’s the Guattari in your relationship?

In the third episode of Season 6, “The Third Man,” Balthazar says to Cas, “you tore up the whole script and burned the pages.” That is the fundamental idea the writers of the first five seasons were trying to sell us: whatever grand plan the biblical God had cooking up is worth nothing in face of the love these men have—for each other and the world. Sam, Bobby, Cas and Dean will go to any lengths to protect one another and keep people safe. What’s real? What’s worth saving? People are real. Families are worth saving.

This show plugs free will as the most important thing a person, angel, demon or otherwise can have. The fact of the matter is that Dean was always going to fight against the status quo, Sam was always going to go his own way, and Bobby was always going to do his best for his boys. The only uncertainty in the entire narrative is Cas. He was never meant to rebel. He was never meant to fall from Heaven. He was supposed to fall in line, be a good soldier, and help bring on the apocalypse, but Cas was the first agent of free will in the show’s timeline. Sam followed Lucifer, Dean followed Michael, and John gave himself up for the sins of his children, at once both a God and Jesus figure. But Cas wasn’t modelled off anyone else. He is original. There are definitely some parallels to Ruby, but I would argue those are largely unintentional. Cas broke the mold.

That’s to say nothing of the impact he’s had on the fanbase, and the show itself, which would not have reached 15 seasons and be able to end the way they wanted it to without Cas and Misha Collins. His back must be breaking from carrying the entire show.

But what the holy hell are we doing here today? Not just talking about Cas. We’re talking about metanarrativity: as I define it, and for purposes of this episode, the story within a story, and the act of storytelling. We’re going to go through a select few episodes which I think exemplify the best of what this show has to offer in terms of framing the narrative. We’ll talk about characters like Chuck and Becky and the baby dykes in season 10. And most importantly we’ll talk about the audience’s role, our role, in the reciprocal relationship of storytelling. After all, a tv show is nothing without the viewer.

I was in fact introduced to the concept of metanarrativity by Supernatural, so the fact that I’m revisiting it six years after I finished my degree to talk about the show is one of life’s little jokes.

I’m brushing off my degree and bringing out the big guns (aka literary theorists) to examine this concept. This will be yet another piece of analysis that would’ve gone well in my English Lit degree, but I’ll try not to make it dry as dog shit.

First off, I’m going to argue that the relationship between the creators of Supernatural and the fans has always been a dialogue, albeit with a power imbalance. Throughout the series, even before explicitly metanarrative episodes like season 10 “Fan Fiction” and season 4 “the monster at the end of this book,” the creators have always engaged in conversations with the fans through the show. This includes but is not limited to fan conventions, where the creators have actual, live conversations with the fans. Misha Collins admitted at a con that he’d read fanfiction of Cas while he was filming season 4, but it’s pretty clear even from the first season that the creators, at the very least Eric Kripke, were engaging with fans. The show aired around the same time as Twitter and Tumblr were created, both of which opened up new passageways for fans to interact with each other, and for Twitter and Facebook especially, new passageways for fans to interact with creators and celebrities.

But being the creators, they have ultimate control over what is written, filmed and aired, while we can only speculate and make our own transformative interpretations. But at least since s4, they have engaged in meta narrative construction that at once speaks to fans as well as expands the universe in fun and creative ways. My favourite episodes are the ones where we see the Winchesters through the lens of other characters, such as the season 3 episode “Jus In Bello,” in which Sam and Dean are arrested by Victor Henriksen, and the season 7 episode “Slash Fiction” in which Dean and Sam’s dopplegangers rob banks and kill a bunch of people, loathe as I am to admit that season 7 had an effect on any part of me except my upchuck reflex. My second favourite episodes are the meta episodes, and for this episode of Holy Hell, we’ll be discussing a few: The French Mistake, he Monster at the end of this book, the real ghostbusters, Fan Fiction, Metafiction, and Don’t Call Me Shurley. I’ll also discuss Becky more broadly, because, like, of course I’ll be discussing Becky, she died for our sins.

Let’s take it back. The Monster At The End Of This Book — written by Julie Siege and Nancy Weiner and directed by Mike Rohl. Inarguably one of the better episodes in the first five seasons. Not only is Cas in it, looking so beautiful, but Sam gets something to do, thank god, and it introduces the character of Chuck, who becomes a source of comic relief over the next two seasons. The episode starts with Chuck Shurley, pen named Carver Edlund after my besties, having a vision while passed out drunk. He dreams of Sam and Dean larping as Feds and finding a series of books based on their lives that Chuck has written. They eventually track Chuck down, interrogate him, and realise that he’s a prophet of the lord, tasked with writing the Winchester Gospels. The B plot is Sam plotting to kill Lilith while Dean fails to get them out of the town to escape her. The C plot is Dean and Cas having a moment that strengthens their friendship and leads further into Cas’s eventual disobedience for Dean. Like the movie Disobedience. Exactly like the movie Disobedience. Cas definitely spits in Dean’s mouth, it’s kinda gross to be honest. Maybe I’m just not allo enough to appreciate art.

When Eric Kripke was showrunner of the first five seasons of Supernatural, he conceptualised the character of Chuck. Kripke as the author-god introduced the character of the author-prophet who would later become in Jeremy Carver’s showrun seasons the biblical God. Judith May Fathallah writes in “I’m A God: The Author and the Writing Fan in Supernatural” that Kripke writes himself both into and out of the text, ending his era with Chuck winking at the camera, saying, “nothing really ends,” and disappearing. Kripke stayed on as producer, continuing to write episodes through Sera Gamble’s era, and was even inserted in text in the season 6 episode “The French Mistake”. So nothing really does end, not Kripke’s grip on the show he created, not even the show itself, which fans have jokingly referred to as continuing into its 16th season. Except we’re not joking. It will die when all of us are dead, when there is no one left to remember it. According to W R Fisher, humans are homo narrans, natural storytellers. The Supernatural fandom is telling a fidelitous narrative, one which matches our own beliefs, values and experiences instead of that of canon. Instead of, at Fathallah says, “the Greek tradition, that we should struggle to do the right thing simply because it is right, though we will suffer and be punished anyway,” the fans have created an ending for the characters that satisfies each and every one of our desires, because we each create our own endings. It’s better because we get to share them with each other, in the tradition of campfire stories, each telling our own version and building upon the others. If that’s not the epitome of mythmaking then I don’t know. It’s just great. Dean and Cas are married, Eileen and Sam are married, Jack is sometimes a baby who Claire and Kaia are forced to babysit, Jody and Donna are gonna get hitched soon. It’s season 17, time for many weddings, and Kevin Tran is alive. Kripke, you have no control over this anymore, you crusty hag.

Chuck is introduced as someone with power, but not influence over the story, only how the story is told through the medium of the novels. It’s basically a very badly written, non authorised biography, and Charlie reading literally every book and referencing things she should have no knowledge of is so damn creepy and funny. At first Chuck is surprised by his characters coming to life, despite having written it already, and when shown the intimidating array of weapons in Baby’s trunk he gets real scared. Which is the appropriate response for a skinny 5-foot-8 white guy in a bathrobe who writes terrible fantasy novels for a living.

As far as I can remember, this is the first explicitly metanarrative episode in the series, or at least the first one with in world consequences. It builds upon the lore of Christianity, angels, and God, while teasing what’s to come. Chuck and Sam have a conversation about how the rest of the season is going to play out, and Sam comes away with the impression that he’ll go down with the ship. They touch on Sam’s addiction to demon blood, which Chuck admits he didn’t write into the books, because in the world of supernatural, addiction should be demonised ha ha at every opportunity, except for Dean’s alcoholism which is cool and manly and should never be analysed as an unhealthy trauma coping mechanism.

Chuck is mostly impotent in the story of Sam and Dean, but his very presence presents an element of good luck that turns quickly into a force of antagonism in the series four finale, “Lucifer Rising”, when the archangel Raphael who defeats Lilith in this episode also kills Cas in the finale. It’s Cas’s quick thinking and Dean’s quick doing that resolve the episode and save them from Lilith, once again proving that free will is the greatest force in the universe. Cas is already tearing up pages and burning scripts. The fandom does the same, acting as gods of their own making in taking canon and transforming it into fan art. The fans aren’t impotent like Chuck, but neither do we have sway over the story in the way that Cas and Dean do. Sam isn’t interested in changing the story in the same way—he wants to kill Lilith and save the world, but in doing so continues the story in the way it was always supposed to go, the way the angels and the demons and even God wanted him to.

Neither of them are author-gods in the way that God is. We find out later that Chuck is in fact the real biblical god, and he engineers everything. The one thing he doesn’t engineer, however, is Castiel, and I’ll get to that in a minute.

The Real Ghostbusters

Season 5’s “The real ghostbusters,” written by Nancy Weiner and Erik Kripke, and directed by James L Conway, situates the Winchesters at a fan convention for the Supernatural books. While there, they are confronted by a slew of fans cosplaying as Sam, Dean, Bobby, the scarecrow, Azazel, and more. They happen to stumble upon a case, in the midst of the game where the fans pretend to be on a case, and with the help of two fans cosplaying as Sam and Dean, they put to rest a group of homicidal ghost children and save the day. Chuck as the special guest of the con has a hero moment that spurs Becky on to return his affections. And at the end, we learn that the Colt, which they’ve been hunting down to kill the devil, was given to a demon named Crowley. It’s a fun episode, but ultimately skippable. This episode isn’t so much metanarrative as it is metatextual—metatextual meaning more than one layer of text but not necessarily about the storytelling in those texts—but let’s take a look at it anyway.

The metanarrative element of a show about a series of books about the brothers the show is based on is dope and expands upon what we saw in “the monster at the end of this book”. But the episode tells a tale about about the show itself, and the fandom that surrounds it.

Where “The Monster At The End Of This Book” and the season 5 premiere “Sympathy For The Devil” poked at the coiled snake of fans and the concept of fandom, “the real ghostbusters” drags them into the harsh light of an enclosure and antagonises them in front of an audience. The metanarrative element revolves around not only the books themselves, but the stories concocted within the episode: namely Barnes and Demian the cosplayers and the story of the ghosts. The Winchester brothers’s history that we’ve seen throughout the first five seasons of the show is bared in a tongue in cheek way: while we cried with them when Sam and Dean fought with John, now the story is thrown out in such a way as to mock both the story and the fans’ relationship to it. Let me tell you, there is a lot to be made fun of on this show, but the fans’ relationship to the story of Sam, Dean and everyone they encounter along the way isn’t part of it. I don’t mean to be like, wow you can’t make fun of us ever because we’re special little snowflakes and we take everything so seriously, because you are welcome to make fun of us, but when the creators do it, I can’t help but notice a hint of malice. And I think that’s understandable in a way. Like The relationship between creator and fan is both layered and symbiotic. While Kripke and co no doubt owe the show’s popularity to the fans, especially as the fandom has grown and evolved over time, we’re not exactly free of sin. And don’t get me wrong, no fandom is. But the bad apples always seem to outweigh the good ones, and bad experiences can stick with us long past their due.

However, portraying us as losers with no lives who get too obsessed with this show — well, you know, actually, maybe they’re right. I am a loser with no life and I am too obsessed with this show. So maybe they have a point. But they’re so harsh about it. From wincestie Becky who they paint as a desperate shrew to these cosplayers who threaten Dean’s very perception of himself, we’re not painted in a very good light.

Dean says to Demian and Barnes, “It must be nice to get out of your mom’s basement.” He’s judging them for deriving pleasure from dressing up and pretending to be someone else for a night. He doesn’t seem to get the irony that he does that for a living. As the seasons wore on, the creators made sure to include episodes where Dean’s inner geek could run rampant, often in the form of dressing up like a cowboy, such as season six “Frontierland” and season 13 “Tombstone”. I had to take a break from writing this to laugh for five minutes because Dean is so funny. He’s a car gay but he only likes one car. He doesn’t follow sports. His echolalia causes him to blurt out lines from his favourite movies. He’s a posse magnet. And he loves cosplay. But he will continually degrade and insult anyone who expresses interest in role play, fandom, or interests in general. Maybe that’s why Sam is such a boring person, because Dean as his mother didn’t allow him to have any interests outside of hunting. And when Sam does express interests, Dean insults him too. What a dick. He’s my soulmate, but I am not going to stop listening to hair metal for him. That’s where I draw the line.

Where “the monster at the end of this book” is concerned with narrative and authorship, “the real ghostbusters” is concerned with fandom and fan reactions to the show. It’s not really the best example to talk about in an episode about metanarrativity, but I wanted to include it anyway. It veers from talk of narrative by focusing on the people in the periphery of the narrative—the fans and the author. In season 9 “Metafiction,” Metatron asks the question, who gives the story meaning? The text would have you believe it’s the characters. The angels think it’s God. The fandom think it’s us. The creators think it’s them. Perhaps we will never come to a consensus or even a satisfactory answer to this question. Perhaps that’s the point.

The ultimate takeaway from this episode is that ordinary people, the people Sam and Dean save, the people they save the world for, the people they die for again and again, are what give their story meaning. Chuck defeats a ghost and saves the people in the conference room from being murdered. Demian and Barnes, don’t ask me which is which, burn the bodies of the ghost children and lay their spirits to rest. The text says that ordinary, every day people can rise to the challenge of becoming extraordinary. It’s not a bad note to end on, by any means. And then we find out that Demian and Barnes are a couple, which of course Dean is surprised at, because he lacks object permanence.

This is no doubt influenced by how a good portion of the transformative fandom are queer, and also a nod to the wincesties and RPF writers like Becky who continue to bottom feed off the wrong message of this show. But then, the creators encourage that sort of thing, so who are the real clowns here? Everyone. Everyone involved with this show in any way is a clown, except for the crew, who were able to feed their families for more than a decade.

Okay side note… over the past year or so I’ve been in process of realising that even in fandom queers are in the minority. I know the statistic is that 10% of the world population is queer, but that doesn’t seem right to me? Maybe because 4/5 closest friends are queer and I hang around queers online, but I also think I lack object permanence when it comes to straight people. Like I just do not interact with straight people on a regular basis outside of my best friend and parents and school. So when I hear that someone in fandom is straight I’m like, what the fuck… can you keep that to yourself please? Like if I saw Misha Collins coming out as straight I would be like, I didn’t ask and you didn’t have to tell. Okay I’m mostly joking, but I do forget straight people exist. Mostly I don’t think about whether people are gay or trans or cis or straight unless they’ve explicitly said it and then yes it does colour my perception of them, because of course it would. If they’re part of the queer community, they’re my people. And if they’re straight and cis, then they could very well pose a threat to me and my wellbeing. But I never ask people because it’s not my business to ask. If they feel comfortable enough to tell me, that’s awesome. I think Dean feels the same way. Towards the later seasons at least, he has a good reaction when it’s revealed that someone is queer, even if it is mostly played off as a joke. It’s just that he doesn’t have a frame of reference in his own life to having a gay relationship, either his or someone he’s close to. He says to Cesar and Jesse in season 11 “The Critters” that they fight like brothers, because that’s the only way he knows how to conceptualise it. He doesn’t have a way to categorise his and Cas’s relationship, which is in many ways, long before season 15 “Despair,” harking back even to the parallels between Ruby and Cas in season 3 and 4, a romantic one, aside from that Cas is like a brother to him. Because he’s never had anyone in his life care for him the way Cas does that wasn’t Sam and Bobby, and he doesn’t recognise the romantic element of their relationship until literally Cas says it to him in the third last episode, he just—doesn’t know what his and Cas’s relationship is. He just really doesn’t know. And he grew up with a father who despised him for taking the mom and wife role in their family, the role that John placed him in, for being subservient to John’s wishes where Sam was more rebellious, so of course he wouldn’t understand either his own desires or those of anyone around him who isn’t explicitly shoving their tits in his face. He moulded his entire personality around what he thought John wanted of him, and John says to him explicitly in season 14 “Lebanon”, “I thought you’d have a family,” meaning, like him, wife and two rugrats. And then, dear god, Dean says, thinking of Sam, Cas, Jack, Claire, and Mary, “I have a family.” God that hurts so much. But since for most of his life he hasn’t been himself, he’s been the man he thought his father wanted him to be, he’s never been able to examine his own desires, wants and goals. So even though he’s really good at reading people, he is not good at reading other people’s desires unless they have nefarious intentions. Because he doesn’t recognise what he feels is attraction to men, he doesn’t recognise that in anyone else.

Okay that’s completely off topic, wow. Getting back to metanarrativity in “The Real Ghostbusters,” I’ll just cap it off by saying that the books in this episode are more a frame for the events than the events themselves. However, there are some good outtakes where Chuck answers some questions, and I’m not sure how much of that is scripted and how much is Rob Benedict just going for it, but it lends another element to the idea of Kripke as author-god. The idea of a fan convention is really cool, because at this point Supernatural conventions had been running for about 4 years, since 2006. It’s definitely a tribute to the fans, but also to their own self importance. So it’s a mixed bag, considering there were plenty of elements in there that show the good side of fandom and fans, but ultimately the Winchesters want nothing to do with it, consider it weird, and threaten Chuck when he says he’ll start releasing books again, which as far as they know is his only source of income. But it’s a fun episode and Dean is a grouchy bitch, so who the holy hell cares?

Season 10 episode “fanfiction” written by my close personal friend Robbie Thompson and directed by Phil Sgriccia is one of the funniest episodes this show has ever done. Not only is it full of metatextual and metanarrative jokes, the entire premise revolves around fanservice, but in like a fun and interesting way, not fanservice like killing the band Kansas so that Dean can listen to “Carry On My Wayward Son” in heaven twice. Twice. One version after another. Like I would watch this musical seven times in theatre, I would buy the soundtrack, I would listen to it on repeat and make all my friends listen to it when they attend my online Jitsi birthday party. This musical is my Hamilton. Top ten episodes of this show for sure. The only way it could be better is if Cas was there. And he deserved to be there. He deserved to watch little dyke Castiel make out with her girlfriend with her cute little wings, after which he and Dean share uncomfortable eye contact. Dean himself is forever coming to terms with the fact that gay people exist, but Cas should get every opportunity he can to hear that it’s super cool and great and awesome to be queer. But really he should be in every episode, all of them, all 300 plus episodes including the ones before angels were introduced. I’m going to commission the guy who edits Paddington into every movie to superimpose Cas standing on the highway into every episode at least once.

“Fan Fiction” starts with a tv script and the words “Supernatural pilot created by Eric Kripke”. This Immediately sets up the idea that it’s toying with narrative. Blah blah blah, some people go missing, they stumble into a scene from their worst nightmares: the school is putting on a musical production of a show inspired by the Supernatural books. It’s a comedy of errors. When people continue to go missing, Sam and Dean have to convince the girls that something supernatural is happening, while retaining their dignity and respect. They reveal that they are the real Sam and Dean, and Dean gives the director Marie a summary of their lives over the last five seasons, but they aren’t taken seriously. Because, like, of course they aren’t. Even when the girls realise that something supernatural is happening, they don’t actually believe that the musical they’ve made and the series of books they’re basing it on are real. Despite how Sam and Dean Winchester were literal fugitives for many years at many different times, and this was on the news, and they were wanted by the FBI, despite how they pretend to be FBI, and no one mentions it??? Did any of the staffwriters do the required reading or just do what I used to do for my 40 plus page readings of Baudrillard and just skim the first sentence of every paragraph? Neat hack for you: paragraphs are set up in a logical order of Topic, Example, Elaboration, Linking sentence. Do you have to read 60 pages of some crusty French dude waxing poetic about how his best friend Pierre wants to shag his wife and making that your problem? Read the first and last sentence of every paragraph. Boom, done. Just cut your work in half.

The musical highlights a lot of the important moments of the show so far. The brothers have, as Charlie Bradbury says, their “broment,” and as Marie says, their “boy melodrama scene,” while she insinuates that there is a sexual element to their relationship. This show never passed up an opportunity to mention incest. It’s like: mentioning incest 5000 km, not being disgusting 1 km, what a hard decision. Actually, they do have to walk on their knees for 100 miles through the desert repenting. But there are other moments—such as Mary burning on the ceiling, a classic, Castiel waiting for Dean at the side of the highway, and Azazel poisoning Sam. With the help of the high schoolers, Sam and Dean overcome Calliope, the muse and bad guy of the episode, and save the day. What began as their lives reinterpreted and told back to them turns into a story they have some agency over.

In this episode, as opposed to “The Monster At The End Of This Book,” The storytelling has transferred from an alcoholic in a bathrobe into the hands of an overbearing and overachieving teenage girl, and honestly why not. Transformative fiction is by and large run by women, and queer women, so Marie and her stage manager slash Jody Mills’s understudy Maeve are just following in the footsteps of legends. This kind of really succinctly summarises the difference between curative fandom and transformative fandom, the former of which is populated mostly by men, and the latter mostly by women. As defined by LordByronic in 2015, Curative fandom is more like enjoying the text, collecting the merchandise, organising the knowledge — basically Reddit in terms of fandom curation. Transformative fandom is transforming the source text in some way — making fanart, fanfic, mvs, or a musical — basically Tumblr in general, and Archive of our own specifically. Like what do non fandom people even do on Tumblr? It is a complete mystery to me. Whereas Chuck literally writes himself into the narrative he receives through visions, Marie and co have agency and control over the narrative by writing it themselves.

Chuck does appear in the episode towards the end, his first appearance after five seasons. The theory that he killed those lesbian theatre girls makes me wanna curl up and die, so I don’t subscribe to it. Chuck watched the musical and he liked it and he gave unwarranted notes and then he left, the end.

The Supernatural creative team is explicitly acknowledging the fandom’s efforts by making this episode. They’re writing us in again, with more obsessive fans, but with lethbians this time, which makes it infinitely better. And instead of showing us as potential date rapists, we’re just cool chicks who like to make art. And that’s fucken awesome.

I just have to note that the characters literally say the word Destiel after Dean sees the actors playing Dean and Cas making out. He storms off and tells Sam to shut the fuck up when Sam makes fun of him, because Dean’s sexuality is NOT threatened he just needs to assert his dominance as a straight hetero man who has NEVER looked at another man’s lips and licked his own. He just… forgets that gay people exist until someone reminds him. BUT THEN, after a rousing speech that is stolen from Rent or Wicked or something, he echoes Marie’s words back, saying “put as much sub into that text as you possibly can.” What does Dean know about subbing, I wonder. Okay I’m suddenly reminded that he did literally go to a kink bar and get hit on by a leather daddy. Oh Dean, the experiences you have as a broad-shouldered, pixie-faced man with cowboy legs. You were born for this role.

Metatron is my favourite villain. As one tumblr user pointed out, he is an evil English literature major, which is just a normal English literature major. The season nine episode “Meta Fiction” written by my main man robbie thompson and directed by thomas j wright, happens within a curious season. Castiel, once again, becomes the leader of a portion of the heavenly host to take down Metatron, and Dean is affected by the Mark Of Cain. Sam was recently possessed by Gadreel, who killed Kevin in Sam’s body and then decided to run off with Metatron. Metatron himself is recruiting angels to join him, in the hopes that he can become the new God. It’s the first introduction of Hannah, who encourages Cas to recruit angels himself to take on Metatron. Also, we get to see Gabriel again, who is always a delight.

This episode is a lot of fun. Metatron poses questions like, who tells a story and who is the most important person in the telling? Is it the writer? The audience? He starts off staring over his typewriter to address the camera, like a pompous dickhead. No longer content with consuming stories, he’s started to write his own. And they are hubristic ones about becoming God, a better god than Chuck ever was, but to do it he needs to kill a bunch of people and blame it on Cas. So really, he’s actually exactly like Chuck who blamed everything on Lucifer.

But I think the most apt analogy we can use for this in terms of who is the creator is to think of Metatron as a fanfiction writer. He consumes the media—the Winchester Gospels—and starts to write his own version of events—leading an army to become God and kill Cas. Nevermind that no one has been able to kill Cas in a way that matters or a way that sticks. Which is canon, and what Metatron is trying to do is—well not fanon because it actually does impact the Winchesters’ storyline. It would be like if one of the writers of Supernatural began writing Supernatural fanfiction before they got a job on the show. Which as my generation and the generations coming after me get more comfortable with fanfiction and fandom, is going to be the case for a lot of shows. I think it’s already the case for Riverdale. Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t the woman who wrote the bi Dean essay go to work on Riverdale? Or something? I dunno, I have the post saved in my tumblr likes but that is quagmire of epic proportions that I will easily get lost in if I try to find it.

Okay let me flex my literary degree. As Englund and Leach say in “Ethnography and the metanarratives of modernity,” “The influential “literary turn,” in which the problems of ethnography were seen as largely textual and their solutions as lying in experimental writing seems to have lost its impetus.” This can be taken to mean, in the context of Supernatural, that while Metatron’s writings seek to forge a new path in history, forgoing fate for a new kind of divine intervention, the problem with Metatron is that he’s too caught up in the textual, too caught up in the writing, to be effectual. And this as we see throughout seasons 9, 10 and 11, has no lasting effect. Cas gets his grace back, Dean survives, and Metatron becomes a powerless human. In this case, the impetus is his grace, which he loses when Cas cuts it out of him, a mirror to Metatron cutting out Cas’s grace.

However, I realise that the concept of ethnography in Supernatural is a flawed one, ethnography being the observation of another culture: a lot of the angels observe humanity and seem to fit in. However, Cas has to slowly acclimatise to the Winchesters as they tame him, but he never quite fit in—missing cues, not understanding jokes or Dean’s personal space, the scene where he says, “We have a guinea pig? Where?” Show him the guinea pig Sam!!! He wants to see it!!! At most he passes as a human with autism. Cas doesn’t really observe humanity—he observes nature, as seen in season 7 “reading is fundamental” and “survival of the fittest”. Even the human acts he talks about in season 6 “the man who would be king” are from hundreds or thousands of years ago. He certainly doesn’t observe popular culture, which puts him at odds with Dean, who is made up of 90 per cent pop culture references and 10 per cent flannel. Metatron doesn’t seek to blend in with humanity so much as control it, which actually is the most apt example of ethnography for white people in the last—you know, forever. But of course the writers didn’t seek to make this analogy. It is purely by chance, and maybe I’m the only person insane enough to realise it. But probably not. There are a lot of cookies much smarter than me in the Supernatural fandom and they’ve like me have grown up and gone to university and gotten real jobs in the real world and real haircuts. I’m probably the only person to apply Englund and Leach to it though.

And yes, as I read this paper I did need to have one tab open on Google, with the word “define” in the search bar.

Metatron has a few lines in this that I really like. He says:

“The universe is made up of stories, not atoms.”

“You’re going to have to follow my script.”

“I’m an entity of my word.”

It’s really obvious, but they’re pushing the idea that Metatron has become an agent of authorship instead of just a consumer of media. He even throws a Supernatural book into his fire — a symbolic act of burning the script and flipping the writer off, much like Cas did to God and the angels in season 5. He’s not a Kripke figure so much as maybe a Gamble, Carver or Dabb figure, in that he usurps Chuck and becomes the author-god. This would be extremely postmodern of him if he didn’t just do exactly what Chuck was doing, except worse somehow. In fact, it’s postmodern of Cas to reject heaven’s narrative and fall for Dean. As one tumblr user points out, Cas really said “What’s fate compared to Dean Winchester?”

Okay this transcript is almost 8000 words already, and I still have two more episodes to review, and more things to say, so I’ll leave you with this. Metatron says to Cas, “Out of all of God’s wind up toys, you’re the only one with any spunk.” Why Cas has captured his attention comes down more than anything to a process of elimination. Most angels fucking suck. They follow the rules of whoever puts themselves in charge, and they either love Cas or hate him, or just plainly wanna fuck him, and there have been few angels who stood out. Balthazar was awesome, even though I hated him the first time I watched season 6. He UNSUNK the Titanic. Legend status. And Gabriel was of course the OG who loves to fuck shit up. But they’re gone at this stage in the narrative, and Cas survives. Cas always survives. He does have spunk. And everyone wants to fuck him.

Season 11 episode 20 “Don’t Call Me Shurley,” the last episode written by the Christ like figure of Robbie Thompson — are we sensing a theme here? — and directed by my divine enemy Robert Singer, starts with Metatron dumpster diving for food. I’m not even going to bother commenting on this because like… it’s supernatural and it treats complex issues like homelessness and poverty with zero nuance. Like the Winchesters live in poverty but it’s fun and cool because they always scrape by but Metatron lives in poverty and it’s funny. Cas was homeless and it was hard but he needed to do it to atone for his sins, and Metatron is homeless and it’s funny because he brought it on himself by being a murderous dick. Fucking hell. Robbie, come on. The plot focuses on God, also known as Chuck Shurley, making himself known to Metatron and asking for Metatron’s opinion on his memoir. Meanwhile, the Winchesters battle another bout of infectious serial killer fog sent by Amara. At the end of the episode, Chuck heals everyone affected by the fog and reveals himself to Sam and Dean.

Chuck says that he didn’t foresee Metatron trying to become god, but the idea of Season 15 is that Chuck has been writing the Winchesters’ story all their lives. When Metatron tries, he fails miserably, is locked up in prison, tortured by Dean, then rendered useless as a human and thrown into the world without a safety net. His authorship is reduced to nothing, and he is reduced to dumpster diving for food. He does actually attempt to live his life as someone who records tragedies as they happen and sells the footage to news stations, which is honestly hilarious and amazing and completely unsurprising because Metatron is, at the heart of it, an English Literature major. In true bastard style, he insults Chuck’s work and complains about the bar, but slips into his old role of editor when Chuck asks him to.

The theory I’m consulting for this uses the term metanarrative in a different way than I am. They consider it an overarching narrative, a grand narrative like religion. Chuck’s biography is in a sense most loyal to Middleton and Walsh’s view of metanarrative: “the universal story of the world from arche to telos, a grand narrative encompassing world history from beginning to end.” Except instead of world history, it’s God’s history, and since God is construed in Supernatural as just some guy with some powers who is as fallible as the next some guy with some powers, his story has biases and agendas. Okay so in the analysis I’m getting Middleton and Walsh’s quotes from, James K A Smith’s “A little story about metanarratives,” Smith dunks on them pretty bad, but for Supernatural purposes their words ring true. Think of them as the BuckLeming of Lyotard’s postmodern metanarrative analysis: a stopped clock right twice a day. Is anyone except me understanding the sequence of words I’m saying right now. Do I just have the most specific case of brain worms ever found in human history. I’m currently wearing my oversized Keith Haring shirt and dipping pretzels into peanut butter because it’s 3.18 in the morning and the homosexuals got to me. The total claims a comprehensive metanarrative of world history make do indeed, as Middleton and Walsh claim, lead to violence, stay with me here, because Chuck’s legacy is violence, and so is Metatron’s, and in trying to reject the metanarrative, Sam and Dean enact violence. Mostly Dean, because in season 15 he sacrifices his own son twice to defeat Chuck. But that means literally fighting violence with violence. Violence is, after all, all they know. Violence is the lens through which they interact with the world. If the writers wanted to do literally anything else, they could have continued Dean’s natural character progression into someone who eschews the violence that stems from intergeneration trauma — yes I will continue to use the phrase intergenerational trauma whenever I refer to Dean — and becomes a loving father and husband. Sam could eschew violence and start a monster rehabilitation centre with Eileen.

This episode of Holy Hell is me frantically grabbing at straws to make sense of a narrative that actively hates me and wants to kick me to death. But the violence Sam and Dean enact is not at a metanarrative level, because they are not author-gods of their own narrative. In season 15 “Atomic Monsters,” Becky points out that the ending of the Supernatural book series is bad because the brothers die, and then, in a shocking twist of fate, Dean does die, and the narrative is bad. The writers set themselves a goal post to kick through and instead just slammed their heat into the bars. They set up the dartboard and were like, let’s aim the darts at ourselves. Wouldn’t that be fun. Season 15’s writing is so grossly incompetent that I believe every single conspiracy theory that’s come out of the finale since November, because it’s so much more compelling than whatever the fuck happened on the road so far. Carry on? Why yes, I think I will carry on, carry on like a pork chop, screaming at the bars of my enclosure until I crack my voice open like an egg and spill out all my rage and frustration. The world will never know peace again. It’s now 3.29 and I’ve written over 9000 words of this transcript. And I’m not done.

Middleton and Walsh claim that metanarratives are merely social constructions masquerading as universal truths. Which is, exactly, Supernatural. The creators have constructed this elaborate web of narrative that they want to sell us as the be all and end all. They won’t let the actors discuss how they really feel about the finale. They won’t let Misha Collins talk about Destiel. They want us to believe it was good, actually, that Dean, a recovering alcoholic with a 30 year old infant son and a husband who loves him, deserved to die by getting NAILED, while Sam, who spent the last four seasons, the entirety of Andrew Dabb’s run as showrunner, excelling at creating a hunter network and romancing both the queen of hell and his deaf hunter girlfriend, should have lived a normie life with a normie faceless wife. Am I done? Not even close. I started this episode and I’m going to finish it.

When we find out that Chuck is God in the episode of season 11, it turns everything we knew about Chuck on its head. We find out in Season 15 that Chuck has been writing the Winchesters’ story all along, that everything that happened to them is his doing. The one thing he couldn’t control was Cas’s choice to rebel. If we take him at his word, Cas is the only true force of free will in the entire universe, and more specifically, the love that Cas had for Dean which caused him to rebel and fall from heaven. — This theory has holes of course. Why would Lucifer torture Lilith into becoming the first demon if he didn’t have free will? Did Chuck make him do that? And why? So that Chuck could be the hero and Lucifer the bad guy, like Lucifer claimed all along? That’s to say nothing of Adam and Eve, both characters the show introduced in different ways, one as an antagonist and the other as the narrative foil to Dean and Cas’s romance. Thinking about it makes my head hurt, so I’m just not gunna.

So Chuck was doing the writing all along. And as Becky claims in “Atomic Monsters,” it’s bad writing. The writers explicitly said, the ending Chuck wrote is bad because there’s no Cas and everyone dies, and then they wrote an ending where there is no Cas and everyone dies. So talk about self-fulfilling prophecies. Talk about giant craters in the earth you could see from 800 kilometres away but you still fell into. Meanwhile fan writers have the opportunity to write a million different endings, all of which satisfy at least one person. The fandom is a hydra, prolific and unstoppable, and we’ll keep rewriting the ending a million more times.

And all this is not even talking about the fact that Chuck is a man, Metatron is a man, Sam and Dean and Cas are men, and the writers and directors of the show are, by an overwhelming majority, men. Most of them are white, straight, cis men. Feminist scholarship has done a lot to unpack the damage done by paternalistic approaches to theory, sociology, ethnography, all the -ys, but I propose we go a step further with these men. Kill them. Metanarratively, of course. Amara, the Darkness, God’s sister, had a chance to write her own story without Chuck, after killing everything in the universe, and I think she had the right idea. Knock it all down to build it from the ground up. Billie also had the opportunity to write a narrative, but her folly was, of course, putting any kind of faith in the Winchesters who are also grossly incompetent and often fail up. She is, as all author-gods on this show are, undone by Castiel. The only one with any spunk, the only one who exists outside of his own narrative confines, the only one the author-gods don’t have any control over. The one who died for love, and in dying, gave life.

The French Mistake

Let’s change the channel. Let’s calm ourselves and cleanse our libras. Let’s commune with nature and chug some sage bongs.

“The French Mistake” is a song from the Mel Brooks film Blazing Saddles. In the iconic second last scene of the film, as the cowboys fight amongst themselves, the camera pans back to reveal a studio lot and a door through which a chorus of gay dancersingers perform “the French Mistake”. The lyrics go, “Throw out your hands, stick out your tush, hands on your hips, give ‘em a push. You’ll be surprised you’re doing the French Mistake.”

I’m not sure what went through the heads of the Supernatural creators when they came up with the season 6 episode, “The French Mistake,” written by the love of my life Ben Edlund and directed by some guy Charles Beeson. Just reading the Wikipedia summary is so batshit incomprehensible. In short: Balthazar sends Sam and Dean to an alternate universe where they are the actors Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles, who play Sam and Dean on the tv show Supernatural. I don’t think this had ever been done in television history before. The first seven seasons of this show are certifiable. Like this was ten years ago. Think about the things that have happened in the last 10 slutty, slutty years. We have lived through atrocities and upheaval and the entire world stopping to mourn, but also we had twitter throughout that entire time, which makes it infinitely worse.

In this universe, Sam and Dean wear makeup, Cas is played by attractive crying man Misha Collins, and Genevieve Padalecki nee Cortese makes an appearance. Magic doesn’t exist, Serge has good ideas, and the two leads have to act in order to get through the day. Sorry man I do not know how to pronounce your name.

Sidenote: I don’t know if me being attracted aesthetically to Misha Collins is because he’s attractive, because this show has gaslighted me into thinking he’s attractive, or because Castiel’s iconic entrance in 2008 hit my developing mind like a torpedo full of spaghetti and blew my fucking brains all over the place. It’s one of life’s little mysteries and God’s little gifts.

Let’s talk about therapy. More specifically, “Agency and purpose in narrative therapy: questioning the postmodern rejection of metanarrative” by Cameron Lee. In this paper, Lee outlines four key ideas as proposed by Freedman and Combs:

Realities are socially constructed

Realities are constituted through language

Realities are organised and maintained through narrative

And there are no essential truths.

Let’s break this down in the case of this episode. Realities are socially constructed: the reality of Sam and Dean arose from the Bush era. Do I even need to elaborate? From what I understand with my limited Australian perception, and being a child at the time, 9/11 really was a prominent shifting point in the last twenty years. As Americans describe it, sometimes jokingly, it was the last time they were really truly innocent. That means to me that until they saw the repercussions of their government’s actions in funding turf wars throughout the middle east for a good chunk of the 20th Century, they allowed themselves to be hindered by their own ignorance. The threat of terrorism ran rampant throughout the States, spurred on by right wing nationalists and gun-toting NRA supporters, so it’s really no surprise that the show Supernatural started with the premise of killing everything in sight and driving around with only your closest kin and a trunk full of guns. Kripke constructed that reality from the social-political climate of the time, and it has wrought untold horrors on the minds of lesbians who lived through the noughties, in that we are now attracted to Misha Collins.

Number two: Realities are constituted through language. Before a show can become a show, it needs to be a script. It’s written down, typed up, and given to actors who say the lines out loud. In this respect, they are using the language of speech and words to convey meaning. But tv shows are not all about words, and they’re barely about scripts. From what I understand of being raised by television, they are about action, visuals, imagery, and behaviours. All of the work that goes into them—the scripts, the lighting, the audio, the sound mixing, the cameras, the extras, the ADs, the gaffing, the props, the stunts, everything—is about conveying a story through the medium of images. In that way, images are the language. The reality of the show Supernatural, inside the show Supernatural, is constituted through words: the script, the journalists talking to Sam, the makeup artist taking off Dean’s makeup, the conversations between the creators, the tweets Misha sends. But also through imagery: the fish tank in Jensen’s trailer, the model poses on the front cover of the magazine, the opulence of Jared’s house, Misha’s iconic sweater. Words and images are the language that constitutes both of these realities. Okay for real, I feel like I’ve only seen this episode max three times, including when I watched it for research for this episode, but I remember so much about it.

Number three: realities are organised and maintained through narrative. In this universe of the French Mistake, their lives are structured around two narratives: the internal narrative of the show within the show, in which they are two actors on a tv set; and the episode narrative in which they need to keep the key safe and return to their own universe. This is made difficult by the revelation that magic doesn’t work in this universe, however, they find a way. Before they can get back, though, an avenging angel by the name of Virgil guns down author-god Eric Kripke and tries to kill the Winchesters. However, they are saved by Balthazar and the freeze frame and brought back into their own world, the world of Supernatural the show, not Supernatural the show within the show within the nesting doll. And then that reality is done with, never to be revisited or even mentioned, but with an impact that has lasted longer than the second Bush administration.

And number four: there are no essential truths. This one is a bit tricky because I can’t find what Lee means by essential truths, so I’m just going to interpret that. To me, essential truths means what lies beneath the narratives we tell ourselves. Supernatural was a show that ran for 15 years. Supernatural had actors. Supernatural was showrun by four different writers. In the show within a show, there is nothing, because that ceases to exist for longer than the forty two minute episode “The French Mistake”. And since Supernatural no longer exists except in our computers, it is nothing too. It is only the narratives we tell ourselves to sleep better at night, to wake up in the morning with a smile, to get through the day, to connect with other people, to understand ourselves better. It’s not even the narrative that the showrunners told, because they have no agency over it as soon as it shows up on our screens. The essential truth of the show is lost in the translation from creating to consuming. Who gives the story meaning? The people watching it and the people creating it. We all do.

Lee says that humans are predisposed to construct narratives in order to make sense of the world. We see this in cultures from all over the world: from cave paintings to vases, from The Dreaming to Beowulf, humans have always constructed stories. The way you think about yourself is a story that you’ve constructed. The way you interact with your loved ones and the furries you rightfully cyberbully on Twitter is influenced by the narratives you tell yourself about them. And these narratives are intricate, expansive, personalised, and can colour our perceptions completely, so that we turn into a different person when we interact with one person as opposed to another.

Whatever happened in season 6, most of which I want to forget, doesn’t interest me in the way I’m telling myself the writers intended. For me, the entirety of season 6 was based around the premise of Cas being in love with Dean, and the complete impotence of this love. He turns up when Dean calls, he agonises as he watches Dean rake leaves and live his apple pie life with Lisa, and Dean is the person he feels most horribly about betraying. He says, verbatim, to Sam, “Dean and I do share a more profound bond.” And Balthazar says, “You’re confusing me with the other angel, the one in the dirty trenchcoat who’s in love with you.” He says this in season 6, and we couldn’t do a fucken thing about it.

The song “The French Mistake” shines a light on the hidden scene of gay men performing a gay narrative, in the midst of a scene about the manliest profession you can have: professional horse wrangler, poncho wearer, and rodeo meister, the cowboy. If this isn’t a perfect encapsulation of the lovestory between Dean and Cas, which Ben Edlund has been championing from day fucking one of Misha Collins walking onto that set with his sex hair and chapped lips, then I don’t know what the fuck we’re even doing here. What in the hell else could it possibly mean. The layers to this. The intricacy. The agendas. The subtextual AND blatant queerness. The micro aggressions Crowley aimed at Car in “The Man Who Would Be King,” another Bedlund special. Bed Edlund is a fucking genius. Bed Edlund is cool girl. Ben Edlund is the missing link. Bed Edlund IS wikileaks. Ben Edlund is a cool breeze on a humid summer day. Ben Edlund is the stop loading button on a browser tab. Ben Edlund is the perfect cross between Spotify and Apple Music, in which you can search for good playlists, but without having to be on Spotify. He can take my keys and fuck my wife. You best believe I’m doing an entire episode of Holy Hell on Bedlund’s top five. He is the reason I want to get into staffwriting on a tv show. I saw season 4 episode “On the head of a pin” when my brain was still torpedoed spaghetti mush from the premiere, and it nestled its way deep into my exposed bones, so that when I finally recovered from that, I was a changed person. My god, this transcript is 11,000 words, and I haven’t even finished the Becky section. Which is a good transition.

Oh, Becky. She is an incarnation of how the writers, or at least Kripke, view the fans. Watching season 5 “Sympathy for the Devil” live in 2009 was a whole fucking trip that I as a baby gay was not prepared for. Figuring out my sexuality was a journey that started with the Supernatural fandom and is in some aspects still raging against the dying of the light today. Add to that, this conception of the audience was this, like, personification of the librarian cellist from Juno, but also completely without boundaries, common sense, or shame. It made me wonder about my position in the narrative as a consumer consuming. Is that how Kripke saw me, specifically? Was I like Becky? Did my forays into DeanCasNatural on El Jay dot com make me a fucking loser whose only claim to fame is writing some nasty fanfiction that I’ve since deleted all traces of? Don’t get me wrong, me and my unhinged Casgirl friends loved Becky. I can’t remember if I ever wrote any fanfiction with her in it because I was mostly writing smut, which is extremely Becky coded of me, but I read some and my friends and I would always chat about her when she came up. She was great entertainment value before season 7. But in the eyes of the powers that be, Becky, like the fans themselves, are expendable. First they turned her into a desperate bride wannabe who drugs Sam so that he’ll be with her, then Chuck waves his hand and she disappears. We’re seeing now with regards to Destiel, Cas, and Misha Collins this erasure of them from the narrative. Becky says in season 15 “Atomic Monsters” that the ending Chuck writes is bad because, for one, there’s no Cas, and that’s exactly what’s happening to the text post-finale. It literally makes me insane akin to the throes of mania to think about the layers of this. They literally said, “No Cas = bad” and now Misha isn’t even allowed to talk in his Cassona voice—at least at the time I wrote that—to the detriment of the fans who care about him. It’s the same shit over and over. They introduce something we like, they realise they have no control over how much we like it, and then they pretend they never introduced it in the first place. Season 7, my god. The only reason Gamble brought back Cas was because the ratings were tanking the show. I didn’t even bother watching most of it live, and would just hear from my friends whether Cas was in the episodes or not. And then Sera, dear Sera, had the gall to say it was a Homer’s Odyssey narrative. I’m rusty on Homer aka I’ve never read it but apparently Odysseus goes away, ends up with a wife on an island somewhere, and then comes back to Terabithia like it never happened. How convenient. But since Sera Gamble loves to bury her gays, we can all guess why Cas was written out of the show: Cas being gay is a threat to the toxic heteronormativity spouted by both the show and the characters themselves. In season 15, after Becky gets her life together, has kids, gets married, and starts a business, she is outgrowing the narrative and Chuck kills her. The fans got Destiel Wedding trending on Twitter, and now the creators are acting like he doesn’t exist. New liver, same eagles.

I have to add an adendum: as of this morning, Sunday 11th, don’t ask me what time that is in Americaland, Misha Collins did an online con/Q&A thing and answered a bunch of questions about Cas and Dean, which goes to show that he cannot be silenced. So the narrative wants to be told. It’s continuing well into it’s 16th or 17th season. It’s going to keep happening and they have no recourse to stop it. So fuck you, Supernatural.

I did write the start of a speech about representation but, who the holy hell cares. I also read some disappointing Masters theses that I hope didn’t take them longer to research and write than this episode of a podcast I’m making for funsies took me, considering it’s the same number of pages. Then again I have the last four months and another 8 years of fandom fuelling my obsession, and when I don’t sleep I write, hence the 4,000 words I knocked out in the last 12 hours.

Some final words. Lyotard defines postmodernism, the age we live in, as an incredulity towards metanarratives. Modernism was obsessed with order and meaning, but postmodernism seeks to disrupt that. Modernists lived within the frame of the narrative of their society, but postmodernists seek to destroy the frame and live within our own self-written contexts. Okay I love postmodernist theory so this has been a real treat for me. Yoghurt, Sam? Postmodernist theory? Could I BE more gay?

Middleton and Walsh in their analysis of postmodernism claim that biblical faith is grounded in metanarrative, and explore how this intersects with an era that rejects metanarrative. This is one of the fundamental ideas Supernatural is getting at throughout definitely the last season, but other seasons as well. The narratives of Good vs Evil, Michael vs Lucifer, Dean vs Sam, were encoded into the overarching story of the show from season 1, and since then Sam and Dean have sought to break free of them. Sam broke free of John’s narrative, which was the hunting life, and revenge, and this moralistic machismo that they wrapped themselves up in. If they’re killing the evil, then they’re not the evil. That’s the story they told, and the impetus of the show that Sam was sucked back into. But this thread unravelled in later seasons when Dean became friends with Benny and the idea that all supernatural creatures are inherently evil unravelled as well. While they never completely broke free of John’s hold over them, welcoming Jack into their lives meant confronting a bias that had been ingrained in them since Dean was 4 years old and Sam 6 months. In the face of the question, “are all monsters monstrous?” the narrative loosens its control. Even by questioning it, it throws into doubt the overarching narrative of John’s plan, which is usurped at the end of season 2 when they kill Azazel by Dean’s demon deal and a new narrative unfolds. John as author-god is usurped by the actual God in season 4, who has his own narrative that controls the lives of Sam, Dean and Cas.

Okay like for real, I do actually think the metanarrativity in Supernatural is something that should be studied by someone other than me, unless you wanna pay me for it and then shit yeah. It is extremely cool to introduce a biographical narrative about the fictional narrative it’s in. It’s cool that the characters are constantly calling this narrative into focus by fighting against it, struggling to break free from their textual confines to live a life outside of the external forces that control them. And the thing is? The really real, honest thing? They have. Sam, Dean and Cas have broken free of the narrative that Kripke, Carver, Gamble and Dabb wrote for them. The very fact that the textual confession of love that Cas has for Dean ushered in a resurgence of fans, fandom and activity that has kept the show trending for five months after it ended, is just phenomenal. People have pointed out that fans stopped caring about Game of Thrones as soon as it ended. Despite the hold they had over tv watchers everywhere, their cultural currency has been spent. The opposite is true for Supernatural. Despite how the finale of the show angered and confused people, it gains more momentum every day. More fanworks, more videos, more fics, more art, more ire, more merch is being generated by the fans still. The Supernatural subreddit, which was averaging a few posts a week by season 15, has been incensed by the finale. And yours truly happily traipsed back into the fandom snake pit after 8 years with a smile on my face and a skip in my step ready to pump that dopamine straight into my veins babeeeeeeyyyyy. It’s been WILD. I recently reconnected with one of my mutuals from 2010 and it’s like nothing’s changed. We’re both still unhinged and we both still simp for Supernatural. Even before season 15, I was obsessed with the podcast Ride Or Die, which I started listening to in late 2019, and Supernatural was always in the back of my mind. You just don’t get over your first fandom. Actually, Danny Phantom was my first fandom, and I remember being 12 talking on Danny Phantom forums to people much too old to be the target audience of the show. So I guess that hasn’t left me either. And the fondest memories I have of Supernatural is how the characters have usurped their creators to become mythic, long past the point they were supposed to die a quiet death. The myth weaving that the Supernatural fandom is doing right now is the legacy that will endure.

References

I got all of these for free from Google Scholar!

Judith May Fathallah, “I’m A God: The Author and the Writing Fan in Supernatural.”

James K A Smith, “A Little Story About Metanarratives: Lyotard, Religion and Postmodernism Revisited.” 2001.

Cameron Lee, “Agency and Purpose in Narrative Therapy: Questioning the Postmodern Rejection of Metanarrative.” 2004.

Harri Englund and James Leach, “Ethnography and the Meta Narratives of Modernity.” 2000.

https://uproxx.com/filmdrunk/mel-brooks-explains-french-mistake-blazing-saddles-blu-ray/

#transcripts #supernatural #supernatural podcast #<60mins #this is first and foremost a podcast about cas and misha collins

12 notes · View notes

9worldstales · 3 years

Text

In reply to this post @woodelf68 said:

The jr. novel having Thor say that Loki stole the throne twice is ridiculous. He was lawfully given the throne when Odin was Sleeping and Thor banished, as he was next in line of the succession. And he offered the throne to Thor in TDW and Thor refused it! What was he going to do, abandon Asgard? Loki was the one who stepped up and took on the burden of rule, and yet got none of the credit. And Thor was the ‘savage, chaotic, lawless’ one when he stormed Jotunheim, breaking the peace treaty and gleefully slaughtering Frost Giants. The only time that description fit Loki was after he’d been tortured and was under the influence of the Mind Stone.

My apologies if I reply to you in a separate post but this got too long for the comments...

I’ll try to keep this as impartial and objective as I can, please, everyone, forgive me if I fail.

For start, oh yes, you’re absolutely right, as I said the whole bit of the junior novel contains canon mistakes in regard to both Thor and Loki.

Going in order:

Thor never demanded the throne, the throne was ALWAYS meant to be given to him by Odin, nor he refused it when Asgard needed him the most. He refused it when Asgard just won the war against the Dark Elves and, after Thor refused it, Asgard went through 4 years of peace. Things got worse only because Hela came back after 4 years, something no one had an idea would happen except Odin.

As for Loki yeah, the first time in “Thor” he ABSOLUTELY didn’t steal the throne. He was also a heir to it and with Thor banished for something Thor did (I’ve a long meta digging into how it was Thor who caused his own banishment if someone is in doubt about it) he was the next in line and rightful heir to it. There was ABSOLUTELY no stealing of the throne in a cut scene we see Frigga herself telling so to a surprised Loki.

Loki: What hope is there for Thor? Frigga: There's always a purpose to everything your father does. Thor may yet find a way home. Loki looks troubled by the revelation. He rises, heads for the exit, when they hear the clatter of ARMORED FOOTSTEPS hurriedly approaching. THE EINHERJAR GUARD Enter the room, block his way out. Loki tenses, prepared for the worst, but the guards just stand before them. Loki is baffled. Frigga: (cont’d) Thor is banished. The line of succession falls to you. Until he awakens, Asgard is yours.

And it’s worth to mention Thor accepted Loki as the one inheriting the throne. When Loki tells him the burden of the throne has fallen on him, Thor doesn’t say ‘no, nope, the throne is mine’. He just asks if, since his brother is now in charge HE CAN COME HOME. He doesn’t ask for the throne he just wants to come home. And when Loki tells him nope, Thor doesn’t accuse him of stealing the throne either, he accepts it.

It’s also worth to remember Loki had no idea they would pass the throne to him when Odin fell into Odinsleep. As it apparently happened before, likely Frigga took regency in those moments and Loki had no idea Odin would fall into Odinsleep back then anyway. There was no plotting whatsoever for Loki to take the throne. The movie and the side-material make clear Loki never expected the throne to pass to him, when he let the Frost Giants in Asgard, he merely aimed to stall the coronation for a bit longer.

“Thor: The Dark World” is actually a bit more controversial. Loki has been sentenced by Odin to lifelong imprisonment. This implies he has lost the rights to the throne so he’s no more a legitimate heir to it (in the comic “Thor: The Dark World Prelude” n° 2 written by Yost (scriptwriter for “Thor: The Dark World Prelude” and Kyle) which was likely written prior to Joss Whedon writing the scene for the meeting between Loki and Odin in “Thor: The Dark World” whcih was later added into the movie, Odin even rejects him as a son, telling him the boy he knew is dead and what remains is a creature he doesn’t recognize and calls him ‘Loki Laufeyson’).

The moment Loki takes Odin’s place, he technically steals the throne.

Yes, he offers it to Thor, which implies he didn’t plan to keep it, but it wasn’t his to offer in the first place and although Odin always meant to make Thor the next king (and in the first ending of the movie it’s implied that’s what he would do as soon as Thor was back in good shape) he had no idea if he meant to make him the next king right then.

What’s more he doesn’t return it to Odin when Thor refuses it. So, since Loki wasn’t anymore a legitimate heir and the throne wasn’t his to take yes, in this case he stole it from Odin, not from Thor because Thor refused it.

Now yeah, I know Feige left open the possibility that Thor refused due to what Loki said to him in the guise of Odin…

Feige: That last scene needed to work for people watching the movie for the first time, who believed that it’s Odin talking to Thor, and then the surprise, but it also needs to work a second and third time. Why is Odin saying those things? Why is Loki saying those things to Thor? They’re very nice things, they’re very caring things, that he says to him. Is it partly because he loves his brother? I like to think so. Is it also because that’s what his brother needs… to leave? Perhaps. [“Kevin Feige: It was always the plan to have Loki have a redemptive death. It was always planned that he wouldn’t really be gone.”]

But this is the first exchange Thor and ‘Odin’ had in the movie after Thor returns:

Odin: You once said there would never be a wiser king than me. You were wrong. The Alignment has brought all the realms together. Every one of them saw you offer your life to save them. What can Asgard offer its new king in return? Thor: My life. Father, I cannot be king of Asgard. I will protect Asgard and all the realms with my last and every breath, but I cannot do so from that chair. Loki, for all his grave imbalance, understood rule as I know I never will. The brutality, the sacrifice... It changes you. I'd rather be a good man than a great king. Odin: Is this my son I hear, or the woman he loves? Thor: When you speak, do I never hear Mother's voice'? This is not for Jane, Father. She does not know what I came here to say. Now, forbid me to see her, or say she can rule at my side. It changes nothing.

Thor went there specifically to tell his father he didn’t want to be king and that he wouldn’t change his mind not even if Odin were to forbid him to see Jane or allow him to marry her.

So no, Loki’s words weren’t what Thor needed to leave, Thor didn’t need to be persuaded to leave. So maybe Feige should re-read the script before talking.

So yeah, Thor refused it on his own. Loki didn’t manipulate him into doing it.

(The script of this part is messed up though, because it starts with a reference to what Thor said to Odin at the end of “Thor”… and Loki back then wasn’t around to hear it so really, Feige isn’t the only one who should re-read their script but whatever, this was a bit they rushed to put together when they decided to toss away the original ending of the movie for this new one.)

But there’s more that’s wrong with that bit.

Thor says: “My point is that our self-centered conflict over Asgard has ruined our kingdom. We have been so focused on fighting for the top we’ve forgotten there’s a middle and a bottom.”

There was no self-centered conflict over Asgard that has ruined the kingdom. The kingdom wasn’t ruined, it was perfectly fine until Hela attacked and Hela’s attack is due to Odin and how he raised her and handled her when he couldn’t control her any longer, not due to Loki and Thor.

Also the real problem wasn’t a ‘self-centered conflict for the top’… more like Odin’s screwed up parenting.

So yeah, if the Junior novel is based on the old script there’s a lot of questionable material and not just in this scene. But let’s talk a bit about Eric Pearson, the guy who wrote the script.

As I said in another post about how people came to think Loki is a serial betrayal this guy never worked on a script with Thor and Loki previously and the most he did was to be involved in the “Marvel’s The Avengers Prelude: Fury’s Big Week” in which Thor and Loki have some cameo appearances.

To continue that’s what he says about working on the script:

Fun sells, especially in the Marvel Comic Universe. Did you have a hard time balancing how hilarious the film had to be with the high stakes it has going on? Pearson: I did, yeah. It was tricky. First of all, it took a couple of interactions with Taika before we got on the same page. He’s such a different guy with a different sense of humor [he says fondly]. After I pitched the scene that happens first in the movie I got a sense of his sense of humor and going forward that was really helpful. The first draft was really about nailing the structure and the character arcs, and having our skeleton. That was when I started working more closely with Taika to get his little comedic flourishes in there. Plus, on the day during shooting, he’s bound to do anything. Suddenly there will be a weird prop in the scene and you have to be like “Ok, there it is! We’re gonna move right along!” He knew what he was doing from the beginning. He was going to rob the bank and get away with a ton of comedy, so I was just trying to keep the story together for the most part. And keep the characters honest and true to the world and their respective journeys. [“A Talk With THOR: RAGNAROK’s Eric Pearson”]

The Junior novel has basically no humour. I would say the script used is, if not the very first one, something like the second… which is also hinted by how there’s no mention of Hela being Odin’s daughter.

Let’s talk about Hela. There’s been a certain spoiler going around about her lineage, and we’d love to hear how that came about. Pearson: The decision to make Hela Odin's banished daughter came really late into writing my first draft. We had discussed her backstory as someone from Asgard's past, the Goddess of Death being a weapon of war that Odin used to conquer the Nine Realms and build his empire, but as I was writing and getting closer to the end, knowing that a Thor-Hela face-off was imminent, I felt like we needed more. More connection between the two, more depth to their ideological conflict. And it was one of those late nights, probably 11 pm working at Marvel, and I expressed this concern to Brad Winderbaum (producer). I basically told him that I'd been thinking about it, and I thought that making Hela Thor's sister made the most sense for the story and had the most impact to a shared history. He agreed and told me, "Don't pitch it to anyone because it'll be more likely to get shot down. Just write it into the script and let everyone discover the connection the same way that Thor will." Ultimately it was the right move because, after I wrote the ending and retconned the earlier scenes to reflect the family relation, everybody who read it was surprised, and pleasantly so. [“A Talk With THOR: RAGNAROK’s Eric Pearson”]

And this guy clearly has no idea what the relationship between Thor and Loki was previously and not only because he needed Chris Hemsworth to point out he wasn’t handing them correctly (how Hemsworth’s input helped or worsened the matter is up to debate)…

Pearson: For introductions, working on Thor’s voice was really great just because Hemsworth is great with the script. He actually pulled me aside one morning to talk to me about the Thor and Loki scenes. He pointed out, correctly so, that what I had was retreading a bit of what had already happened in Thor, Thor: The Dark World and The Avengers. We needed to have their relationship exhibit the amount of awareness that it should have after the audience spent so much time with them on screen. So, the Thor and Loki stuff is also some of my favorite. [“A Talk With THOR: RAGNAROK’s Eric Pearson”]

But that’s how, after Hemsworth’s tips, he describes Loki and Thor’s situation:

As the villains in the cinematic universe go, Loki is far and away considered the best by fans. Now you’ve got to bring forward his humor a little more with Hela acting as the main antagonist. What was it like reconciling all the history that Thor and Loki have while there’s another big bad threatening their world? Pearson: We find Loki in a different headspace at the beginning of the movie. Since Thor: The Dark World he’s been ruling Asgard as Odin as he’s always wanted. He’s on sort of a villainous vacation while in a role that plays to his narcissism. So, he’s mostly off his world conquering villain agenda already at the beginning of the film. Plus, Thor and Loki have had so many interactions, and alliances, and betrayals. They’ve been each others’ nemeses for so long that even they’re a little exhausted by themselves. It’s almost like the fatigue of dealing with each other allows this terminator like force of Hela to just walk in. They’re divided so she conquers. [“A Talk With THOR: RAGNAROK’s Eric Pearson”]

Thor and Loki has been each others’ nemeses for so long?

They started having an argument in “Thor” that’s placed in 2011 and that lasted basically 1 day before Loki fell into the void. They saw each other again the following year in “The Avengers” and argued for what? 2 days? Then Loki gets jailed for a year and in “Thor: The Dark World” they’re on the same page, allied against Malekith! Thor believes Loki dead and discover he’s not in 2017, when “Thor: Ragnarok” takes place!

(Now, whoever is about to say they actually have a story of Loki trying to kill Thor and tries to mention this scene to me:

Valkyrie: He did try to kill me. Thor: Yes, me too. On many, many occasions. There was one time when we were children, he transformed himself into a snake, and he knows that I love snakes. So, I went to pick up the snake to admire it and he transformed back into himself and he was like, "Yeah, it's me!" And he stabbed me. We were eight at the time.

...can either accept the short explanation that this scene is a retcon of Thor and Loki's relation or read the long explanation with all the official sources that explains how this is a retcon as prior to “Thor: Ragnarok” the canon was that Thor and Loki were loving brothers until “Thor” happened. That movie is meant to be the start of their fighting, for crying out loud.)

They have a total of 3 days of actively being on each others’ throats. This exhausted them? Even if we consider the full year in which Thor was aware Loki was alive and jailed, we’re talking of people that lives for centuries and a jailed Loki can’t really be considered at Thor’s throat.

So no, if “Thor: Ragnarok” had followed the original script, it wouldn’t have been canon compliant all the same… but Marvel wasn’t interested in protecting canon from the get-go and let Waititi free to create ‘his own thing’…

Waititi: I was lucky enough they didn’t force me to acknowledge things- there were certain things in the film, like the play, which makes fun of the scene in The Dark World where Loki dies, but there’s a point to that play, sort of to recap what happened, but also to tell the audience, “This is not what you think it’s going to be, this film is not going to be a continuation of that. It’s its own thing, and what you think you expect from this film ends at this play. [“Empire Podcast Spoiler Special: Thor: Ragnarok with Taika Waititi”]

…so really, I doubt the pressured Pearson into keeping the old scripts into consideration when writing his own.

As for Thor… the guy in the first part of “Thor” was presented as someone who absolutely loved fighting for the sake of fighting, which, I think, would have made him thrilled to fight in Sakaar, hadn’t it been for the fact they wouldn’t have paid him proper respect.

However, credits when it’s due, the second part of “Thor” is all about him abandoning this mindset. There were cut scenes in Thor which even showed how Thor refused to start a fight over being called ‘princess’ by an earthling just to show he had grown up and wasn’t anymore someone who would jump at the first chance to have a fight. “Thor: The Dark World” is also about him trying to avoid involving Asgard in a fight. So in theory Thor has stopped being someone chaotic and savage by… 6 years.

(I’m trying to preted “Thor: Ragnarok - A New Story” which is a tale included in the Junior Novel at the hands of Steve Behling and that, among other things, depicted Thor as a warmongrel again, is not part of the canon.)

On the opposite side Loki has never been savage or chaotic, he’s elegant, well organized, plans forward and, unless he’s in a deep emotional storm, remains calm and controlled.

I would argue also he’s not lawless either as, although he has broken some laws, he doesn’t wish for a world with no rules. Even when in charge of Asgard he didn’t let it turn into nobody’s land but still organized and ruled it. So really, that improvisation was mostly out of nowhere.

“Thor: Ragnarok” merely decided to retcon Loki and Marvel allowed it because they wanted to kill him in “Avengers: Infinity war” without fans to make the same fuss they did in “Thor: The Dark World” that forced them to change the ending.

Not that they succeeded as fans rejected the “Avengers: Infinity war” death too, but whatever, that’s Marvel for you.

#loki #thor #thor odinson #loki odinson #ask #9 worlds study #taika waititi #mcu thor ragnarok #mcu thor #mcu thor the dark world #christopher yost #eric pearson #mcu avengers infinity war

6 notes · View notes

theclaravoyant · 5 years

Text

AN ~ This fic is called “Catharsis” not just on the characters’ behalves, but on mine. I am planning another more nuanced, narrative-integrated exploration of some of these themes but in the moment when I started writing this I kinda Went Off at biphobia. Kevin was the vessel for my protectiveness... and Julia Diaz unfortunately copped the unflattering role of Every I’m-Not-Homophobic-But person I’ve ever met. This is for you grandma :)))))

NOW ON AO3 (~2400wd)

Warnings: This fic has a happy/uplifting ending (*jake peralta voice* I CATHARTED) but it does deal with themes of homophobia and biphobia, including a reference to AIDS. If you would like to know more detail about the fic’s contents before diving in, message me and I’m happy to chat.

Prompt: 4. “I know you didn’t ask for this.”

Fandom: Brooklyn 99 - featuring Rosa Diaz, Kevin Cozner, Julia Diaz, Jake Peralta, with background Holt x Kevin and Rosa x Jocelyn.

Rated: T

Tags: Platonic Relationships, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Homophobia, Biphobia, AIDS reference.

Catharsis

“Rosa?”

She knew that voice. She ignored it.

“Rosa, mi niña…”

She glared at her report. Corrected a typo with an aggressive stab at the keyboard.

“Uh, excuse me, Detective Diaz?”

She gritted her teeth, and forced her lips into a wide twist on a hospitable smile. In an overly sweet tone that bristled for all to hear, she invited –

“Detective Peralta, can you assist Mrs Diaz please?”

“Uhh. Sure.”

Jake looked uncertainly between Rosa and her mother, but stepped forward. Rosa knew when she needed protecting and if this was one of those times then he would offer what he could. He couldn’t imagine what she was going through, after she and her mother had tried to talk about it again and had come to another explosive loggerhead. Still, he was not too sure of his place in all this. He wanted to give Julia a good scolding, but given that she was Rosa’s mother it probably wouldn’t be intimidating in the slightest by comparison. Plus, he had to remind himself, it was probably not his place. Rosa could scold her own mother. And now he was getting side-tracked.

“How can I help you, Mrs Diaz?”

Fortunately, the fact that Julia was still very keen on watching her daughter and apparently cared very little about Jake’s question, or presence at all, became side-tracked all on its own when the elevator doors opened and the newly-demoted Officer Holt arrived back from lunch with Kevin. It was not exactly a daily occurrence, but not irregular around these parts; still, the squad usually would have clamoured all over them for the day’s instalment of juicy wedding-planning gossip were it not for the never-before-seen Diaz family throwdown emanating a distracting amount of tension in the middle of the room.

At first the newcomers were unfazed, and Kevin opened the gate to the bull pen and gestured – with an arm full of flowers and a tiny but glowing smile - for Raymond to proceed him through. They would have happily continued in this distracted bliss, letting the team resolve whatever drama was going down, were it not for the fact that the lilies in Kevin’s arms and the slightest brush of his hand against Raymond’s arm as he passed made the two of them suddenly relevant to said drama.

It started small, just a little – Jake would have had to call it a wince, from Julia. She kind of, curled up her nose a bit, and Jake was reminded of the time he’d punched his former literary hero in the face.

Do not. Punch. Rosa’s. Mother, he commanded of himself, and of course he wasn’t going to, but after dinner and games night and the fight about Jocelyn and knowing the reason for no cop talk at parties and seeing how things like that sneer infected the lives of his friends, he couldn’t just stand there, and so it slipped out – his place or not -

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Julia baulked. “I just don’t think it’s appropriate for a workplace, that’s all.”

“What?” Jake frowned. Why did this keep surprising him?

“What?”

Rosa’s version was not so much confused, as cold. It was sharp – near ruthless. All the fear and pain and seething she had felt etched into her these past few months she spat into her words as she got up from her desk and stalked around it, closer to her mother.

“They’re coming back from a date,” she growled. “Kevin is Holt’s husband. They’ve been together for thirty years.”

Julia at least had the sense to look impressed by this, which quelled the biting fury and the stinging sense of rejection inside Rosa, if only a little. She shouldn’t need to shove wholesome couple after wholesome couple down her mother’s throat for her to get it, but at least it was something. At least it was something. She swallowed, and prayed that this would be over quickly. Of course, it wouldn’t. Not least because the next thing her mother said made her want to start digging a pit to the centre of the earth and never return.

“Well, that makes sense, dear. They were probably the only two left.”

“Ex-cuse me?” Holt interjected.

“Mom, oh my god,” Rosa protested, her stomach churning.

“IIIII don’t understand enough about what’s going on here to be standing where I’m standing,” Jake babbled, because he’d somehow ended up in an uncomfortably prominent position in a very tense, angry circle of Strong Feelings. He scurried out of the way, back behind some desks, and half expected Holt and Rosa to leap into the space he’d left and go after Julia like it was some kind of cage match.

But no.

It was Kevin.

Cool, calm, collected Kevin who was just starting to bristle around the edges and who had a sharpness to his glare, and to his tongue, that anyone in the room besides perhaps Holt would be hard pressed to say they’d ever seen in him before. Jake had. When they were being hunted by Sean Murphy, and Kevin had been trying and failing to protect his husband.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Mrs – Diaz, is it?”

She knew she was in for something, but nodded.

“I’m sure you understand that I don’t appreciate your making light of my relationship,” he continued. “Nor of a very serious disease that took several of Raymond’s and my friends away from us a very young age. Many younger, if I may point out, than Detective Diaz there.”

“I’m so sorry,” Julia apologised, and it could not be said that any part of that was faked. She just hadn’t thought of it quite like that. But the thought of her little girl succumbing to such a horrible disease only made her throat close up and her fears feel more prickly and urgent and intense. “I didn’t mean any offence. You can’t choose who you are.”

“Perhaps not,” Kevin rebutted, “but if I could, I like to believe that I would choose Raymond every time, and he me.”

Julia blinked. “You wouldn’t want to have a family?”

“Raymond is my family.”

“But… wouldn’t it be easier… I mean, if you liked both, wouldn’t being with a woman be easier?”

“Not always. For example, not all women would feel comfortable with the fact that I also enjoyed the company of men.”

There was a beat of eye contact between them, and Julia cleared her throat.

“…Well,” she said, somewhat quieter this time. “You wouldn’t have to tell anyone.”

Rosa wrapped her arms around herself, under the guise of crossed arms. The mask of irritation she had put up began to crack as she replayed the argument with her mother in her mind. It was Jocelyn that her mother couldn’t take seriously; it was always she’s a nice girl, but, like Rosa failed to grasped the concept of settling down. It was always nice, always compliments, so it was hard to explain how much it hurt. Few people in the room knew how that felt. Jake, at least, took note of the tears that were starting to burn her eyes, and shuffled a little closer to her. He was still a whole desk away but somehow she breathed a little easier at that.

Then Kevin met her eyes.

He had been about to turn back; to retreat from a conversation that was deeply uncomfortable and that might not be his place. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to shut himself in Raymond’s office – or even better, their home – and forget he’d ever poked this particular bear.

Then, across the circle, he’d seen her.

He’d seen Rosa, and her arms across her chest, the sheen of tears in her eyes as she tried to look neither away from, nor directly at the scene in front of her.

In her, he saw himself, in church, as a boy. He saw himself, in class, as a student, learning about Achilles and Patroclus and knowing he couldn’t say what he was thinking. He saw himself at his brother’s wedding, looking out at the crowd of people that had gathered to celebrate and wondering – knowing, at the time, or so it had felt – that such a crowd would never turn out for him.

And perhaps it was the fact that he and Raymond had just come back from booking the florist for a ceremony he’d once thought impossible, that sent a pain careering through Kevin’s chest like an arrow. It certainly did not help matters that they’d just started putting together the guest list and seating chart for the wedding, and his father was not on it. And worst of all, was the acute sense of bitterness that he remembered all too well, that had tainted his father’s last breath, when he had told Kevin that he loved him for the first, the last, and the only time since the day he’d come out.

He had tears in his eyes by the time he turned his attention back to Julia. She glanced between him, and over her shoulder at Rosa. There was something between these two, that much she understood. Could the gay thing really run that deep?

“Mrs Diaz,” Kevin said, and it was clearly taking a lot to keep his voice steady. Julia turned back to him, solemn and intrigued as he took a deep breath and spoke – not only on his own behalf, but on her daughter’s as well.

“I know you didn’t ask for this,” he said. “But your daughter is trying to share something with you that is very important to her. She is trying the best she can to share her life with you. It might be difficult to understand but please, please believe that the love you feel for your husband – that is the same love she is capable of feeling. Maybe for a woman. Maybe even for Jocelyn. That’s all she’s trying to tell you. And you should listen. And you should treasure her with all your heart. Because I know for a fact how it feels when that revelation comes too late.”

He let it land, and all of a sudden his knees felt weak beneath him. He marched past Raymond and out of the bull pen into the lift before the shock of what he’d just done could wear off enough to collapse him.

The others watched him go: most were baffled by his unusually vivid emotiveness, but Rosa for one was grateful. Jake hugged himself a little tighter; protectiveness over his friends warring with crappy-dad sympathy to make one super uncomfortable feelings-cocktail. Julia was a little hurt, a little stunned, a little intrigued. Holt, as per usual, took the unusual turn of events in his stride. He held up a wrist and explained:

“Kevin’s father gave me this watch the day he died. After twenty-two years of not tolerating my presence in his home, he apologised, and he wished us luck.” Luck. He snorted. “My father died when I was younger, before I met Kevin, but my mother has always loved and supported me - every part of me, and of the two of us – and believe me when I say I would not be where I am without that love and support. Do not underestimate your power.”

Julia nodded. Maybe, just maybe, it was starting to sink in.

“I know you love your daughter very much, Mrs Diaz,” Holt continued, a little more gently now – but only a little - “and she loves you. It would be a shame to let that go to waste. But I’m sure you know that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere.”

He gave Julia a pointed stare before exiting the bull pen to track down and comfort Kevin.

Julia took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. If nothing else, it was comforting to know that her daughter had a very protective group of friends and colleagues. And the passion with which they all spoke about each other. And the watch…

When Rosa had walked out on her, Julia had feared for just a second, that her daughter might never speak to her again. It had been one of the most frightening moments of her life, and though it had passed blissfully quickly at the time, she couldn’t help but reflect on it now. And on Holt’s words. And on the gaping wounds their arguments seemed to leave in her. She was only trying to love her daughter, to want what was best for her. But if she stayed on this path, this dark future of bitterness and grief, how could that possibly be better? Wouldn’t she prefer to see her daughter carry herself with pride, smile at the one she loved, open the door for them and carry the bouquet they’d presented her and brush arms with subtle love on their return from a lunch date?

Julia turned to face her daughter, to find her midway through wiping tears from her face.

“I love you, mi niña,” she whispered. “And if Jocelyn makes you happy – then I am happy for you. And I’m going to try harder to understand.”

“Okay,” Rosa said, her voice wobbling dangerously. She cleared her throat. “And yeah. Jocelyn does make me happy. I dunno about marrying her yet but. You know. We’ll see I guess.”

Short sentences. Still not quite crying. Nailing it.

Fortunately, that was part of her daughter that her mother did understand, or at least was used to. She did not push Rosa for more, simply picked up her handbag.

“I got a new extension to Trivial Pursuit,” she said. “Your father and I would love to play it this Friday if you’re available. Bring your friends, of course - or perhaps… Jocelyn?”

Sick and dizzy as she felt at the barrage of emotion, Rosa’s stomach flipped. She was lucky she was not a naturally smiley person, or she might just have given herself away because all of a sudden her heart was screaming IT’S ALL I EVER WANTED, which was of course, an exaggeration, but after months and months of the most awful tension of her life it was like falling away like a mudslide. Is this what relief felt like?

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

Julia nodded, and took her leave.

#fictober19 #rosa diaz #kevin cozner #brooklyn 99 #b99fic #holt x kevin #rosa x jocelyn #b99squad #clara's fic tag #homophobia #biphobia

44 notes · View notes

firelxdykatara · 5 years

Note

🔥 tvd. unleash the salt.

YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF MEEKS

-cough-

no but ok, my biggest unpopular opinion re: tvd? (judging mostly from what i’ve seen come out of what’s left of the ‘fandom’ since s6 when 99% of it jumped fuckin’ ship, but anyway)

the show turning to shit had absolutely nothing to do with delena becoming canon

like, i’ll be reading someone’s anti tvd post, and i’ll see something like ‘it started going downhill in s4′ and nod along, but then ‘when dullena became canon’ and it’s like -record scratch-

no. hold up. -squirts with a waterbottle-

anyone who didn’t realize that damon and elena were being set up to become canon down the line as early as season one were either in denial or just weren’t paying attention. i could write for days about all the signs and all the ways their relationship developed and how they each developed as characters, but i don’t have the energy to focus on the good about tvd anymore so i don’t feel like it. (i always have energy for salt, though. must be my high-sodium diet.)

there are a couple things we know for a fact about early tvd. one is that kevin williamson was largely in charge of the show as head showrunner for the first three seasons. another is that williamson left the show after season three–his name was still on it, but he moved onto another project, and julie plec was left in charge. given those two facts, and my belief that the show’s decline in s4 was far more gradual and less visible than it was in s5, when the show jumped the shark and over a fucking cliff, we (or at least i do, you don’t have to agree but it’s the story that makes the most sense to me so i’m sticking to it) can infer that kevin williamson left at least something of an outline behind for the season following his departure, and the rest was left up to julie as she meandered her way through three more seasons–two of which the show should never have had–with only the vaguest idea of an endpoint in mind.

(as early as season 2, julie said that she and kevin already knew how they wanted the show to end–or at least, they knew what they wanted the last words to be. given that the series finale ended the same way the pilot episode did, with damon showing up on stefan’s porch wearing his trademark smirk and saying ‘hello brother’, i can buy that they had this particular scene in mind when initially planning the overall series arc. i also think that julie plec went mad with the power she suddenly had over the story once williamson left, and any other tentative plans that may have been made were either forgotten or discarded in favor of magic vampire uteruses and pointless romantic arcs and killing characters off right before the end of the show for no real reason. but anyway, i digress.)

I THINK I’VE GOTTEN A LITTLE OFF TOPIC. anyway. if delena wasn’t the beginning of the end (we’ve established that delena–if not as an endgame, but certainly as a relationship that would need to be explored–was in the cards from the very beginning, and had achieved most of its crucial relationship beats by the s3 finale [all that remained was elena gaining closure for her decaying relationship with stefan before she could fully move on]), what was?

two things, primarily: the sire bond, and the cure.

now, neither of these things seemed particularly egregious at first. in fact, up until the end of the season, i was convinced the sire bond would be revealed to have never actually existed, because the ‘signs’ were so badly contrived that they had to be red herrings designed to make the characters doubt themselves and their feelings. in hindsight, i realize the piss poor writing surrounding the bond was emblematic of issues that would plague, and eventually destroy, the rest of the series. and until it came back in season six and undid literal years worth of character development for the central character of the fucking series, i actually thought the cure plotline in s4 was a stroke of brilliance–shoddily handled in a few places, but still solid enough in execution to make up for it.

because elena, having become a vampire, needed to have the option to become human again presented to her–and then she needed to reject it. Which she did, twice, at the end of the season–first when she offered it to Stefan without a second thought, and second when she shoved it down Katherine’s throat, again without a moment of hesitation. (Technically three times, if you count the fact that she was ready to force it on Damon, but that, at least, was motivated by her desire to save his life, since he was dying from werewolf venom at the time.)

elena’s arc throughout season 4 (and that’s another of my unpopular opinions–elena didn’t change into an unrecognizable monster when she became a vampire, becoming a vampire allowed her to let go of the gloomy graveyard girl and finally learn to love LIVING again, and the fandom was so used to her as the suicidal martyr ready to sacrifice anything and everything without a second’s hesitation that they turned on her, en masse, when she realized it was actually ok to want things for herself but…. that’s a different rant altogether, ahem ANYWAY) was about learning how to be herself again.

not herself as she was immediately pre-vamping–herself as she was before her parents died. it’s no coincidence, i think, that the s3 finale (when she was being turned) and then s4 were some of the only real glimpses we got of elena’s parents, and her life with them before they died. she literally hallucinated her mother, in one of the most heartbreaking scenes of the entire show, trying to convince her to kill herself because of what she’d become–but this, notably, was a curse enacted on her by a vampire hunter. (here’s another unpopular opinion–elena killing connor had nothing to do with the sire bond. she would have killed him anyway, because he was threatening her brother’s life. am i the only one who remembers that elena, as a human, went to denver with the sole purpose of figuring out which original sired mary, so she’d know which ones it was safe to kill to protect her family? she was a human and willing to kill 75% of all remaining vampires on the planet. girl could be fucking ruthless when it came to protecting the people she loved, especially after losing so many.)

“mommy, i never meant to disappoint you.”

and then the sun came up. and just as the light hit her and began to burn, because she’d thrown her ring into the river, she looked to damon and whispered his name, panic in her eyes–because she suddenly realized she didn’t want to die. she wanted to LIVE. she DESERVED to live. and damon did what he always did best–he saved elena gilbert’s life. and that’s when she realized she couldn’t keep ignoring the things she felt for him, the way her feelings for stefan had never really recovered, the fact that she wanted to learn to enjoy the life she had instead of subscribing to stefan’s tortured broody vampire bullshit.

(ok, in fairness to stefan [loathe as i am to be fair to mister Hero Hair], i don’t think he actually realized what he was doing to elena. i don’t think he quite understood just how badly he was feeding into her self-loathing and how much he was making her think she would become a monster just like him–just like ripper!stefan if she didn’t take to the bunny diet and make like a good little vampire who never stepped a toe out of line. but i do think that as those first few episodes wore on, elena realized, more and more, that she would not survive being a vampire if she had to do things stefan’s way. and it became clear that the elena stefan was in love with was the idealized, human version of elena who’d died going over that bridge–the elena who could remind stefan of his own humanity and be his anchor to non-ripperness. she couldn’t be his sober companion/humanity anchor if she wasn’t subscribing to his bunny blood ideals.)

the bottom line being, season 4 was about elena not only becoming a vampire, but learning to enjoy her life AS a vampire. no, it wasn’t something she’d chosen for herself, and maybe it wasn’t something she ever would have chosen for herself–considering that even as far back as the end of s2, when the possibility of turning was first presented to her as a real possibility, she was talking about a future where she grew old and maybe even had kids and started a family, things she wouldn’t be able to do with stefan, meaning that even then, in the back of her mind, their relationship came with a potential expiry date (and then we got ‘i can’t think about always, i can only think about right now‘ in the s3 finale, further cementing that)–but while she’d gotten exposed to so much of the darkness inherent in being a vampire throughout the first three seasons and then her own vampiric awakening, she also got to see the good.

her no-humanity arc was kind of essential for this, btw. (is this an unpopular opinion? probably. i’m gonna pretend it is so it doesn’t seem like i’ve gone too far afield here.) which is another reason i hated that stupid fucking sire bond, after i gave up the idea it’d be revealed to be fake, and choose to ignore it in my own interpretation of canon–because there was no need for it. elena just lost her brother, the one remaining member of her immediate family, the one she’d gone to extraordinary lengths the entire season to protect. she was in unimaginable fucking pain. she was in agony, because not only was her brother dead, but she was still a very new vampire and her emotions were spiraling out of fucking control.

she would have absolutely destroyed herself in her grief, if she hadn’t been presented with an outlet. something she absolutely would have chosen for herself, in that moment–damon talking to her softly, reminding her that there was a way she could just be without needing to feel everything, and elena latching onto that one tiny bit of hope, that maybe for now she didn’t have to be in so much pain she thought she might actually fucking die on the spot from it. elena making that choice for herself–actually, you know, having some fucking agency as the central character of the series–would have been a much better choice, both from a narrative and character perspective. BUT ANYWAY.

it was during her stint with the switch turned off that elena first got a real taste of how fun and how freeing being a vampire could be. if the Idiot Brothers hadn’t banded together to try and force elena to be human again against her will, i really don’t doubt that the worst she would’ve done was snatch-eat-erase a whole bunch of people and live it up in the seedier unberbellies of various big party cities for a while. but whatever, the damage was done and eventually elena had her switch turned on by watching matt die, and feeling the relief at seeing him wearing the gilbert ring, and etc.

she largely had vengeance in mind once she was back to her more or less ‘normal’ self, but a crucial part of her development over that particular arc was the fact that she no longer hated herself for existing.

that was huge. it wasn’t given the focus or prominence it should have had, and i’ll again blame that on the weaker writing that was filling the gaps left by kevin williamson’s departure, but elena was no longer the suicidal martyr she’d been since the beginning of the show. she enjoyed living. she reveled in the strength she had, in the fact that she was no longer the Token Human, the doppelganger whose blood attracted all kinds of atrocities. she could protect herself now. she got closure with her brother, when the ghosts came back for a while, and with alaric, and she basically gave herself permission to want to have forever with the man she loved.

(and the fandom villified her, for it. because of fucking course they did. because she was a teenage girl who’d spent most of the previous four seasons dying or preparing to die or literally ready to slit her own throat without a second’s hesitation when it came to protecting people she cared about, but now that she’d decided it was ok to want to be selfish for a while and be with who she wanted without feeling guilty, suddenly it was open fucking season. but ANYWAY.)

where was i?

oh. yeah. season 5.

like i said, season 4 was a little shaky, but more or less solid–it wasn’t until after season 6 that i realized the signs of the show’s downfall had started in s4, with the cure and the sire bond heralding much worse things to come. it was s5 where the show really went off the rails.

here’s another unpopular opinion–it was absolutely character regression to have damon acting out the way he did that season. yes, in seasons past, damon acting out was a big part of his progression–two steps forward, one step back, but still slowly but steadily moving forward. but by the time we get to s5, damon had literally everything he wanted. he was BLISSFULLY happy, with the woman of his dreams, living in utter domestic bliss for an entire summer before she went off to university. and this trashfire of a show actually tried to convince me that he would’ve left their bedroom for more than five minutes, let alone long enough to drive across the state and murder some innocent human woman over a sixty-year-old grudge he’d never so much as thought about the entire time he was in mystic falls????? really?????

as if that weren’t enough, this man who witnessed, first hand, elena’s love for her brother, and who had grown to love him too–who was desperate to save his life on more than one occasion, including VERY RECENTLY in the show–would let enzo waltz in and nearly murder him??? i’m????? god

and then katherine stole elena’s body, and i was fucking done.

literally ragequit the show once elena got her body back, because i was that fucking pissed. they literally had to do so much character regression and assassination to even make it work???? they had to put bonnie on a bus to ‘away from the main plot’ville just so that she couldn’t tell anyone that katherine hadn’t actually crossed over–even though she was right fucking there in the living room with them when she saw katherine’s ghost, and she would have known immediately that something was wrong because katherine disappeared rather than crossing over. and then they had to make damon devolve so he wouldn’t be in a position to realize elena wasn’t herself. and then everyone else carried the fucking idiot ball, except matt who was promptly compelled, and TYLER who nearly died about it, ALL so that no one would notice what had happened until damon was right there with katherine!elena trying to get him to kill her so she could kill him so he wouldn’t reveal what she’d done, and i JUST.

anyway. the awful thing is, the last few episodes of season 5 were really fucking good. it felt like the show had gone back to circa s3 levels of writing. and then s6 was ok for two episodes and then…. fucking nosedived off a cliff and into the abyss.

elena losing all her good memories of damon just so she could fall in love with him all over again was one of the worst writing decisions ever made. just, in history. completely. we didn’t need to see them fall in love in a rushed and half-assed manner when we’d already gotten a beautiful four-season arc of their love story. at the VERY LEAST, they could have had her just lose all her memories, similar to stefan’s s5 memory wipe, so that it wouldn’t seem weird that she thought he was a monster and loved him anyway because something something toxic bullshit. (oh, yeah, i’m still bitter af that they had to beat us over the head with DELENA IS TOXIC YOU GAIZ as if they didn’t have one of the healthier relationships in the show until it was decided that there wasn’t enough drama so they had to make damon regress and elena excuse it in a series of increasingly ooc writing decisions)

UH. ANYWAY YEAH.

as a sidenote, tyler and elena’s friendship had a lot of potential to be something kind of fucking amazing, and it’s one of the most underrated friendships in the fandom, which is a fucking shame because i would have loved to see them get closer and have a real bond as supernatural orphans who’d had almost everything and everyone they cared about torn away at one point or another.

god. ugh. TL;DR: delena was planned from the beginning and was in no way responsible for the show going to shit, it just had the unfortunate timing of becoming canon right before the show became terrible; elena gilbert was an amazing protagonist and character in general, who should not have been hated for daring to be a teenage girl who wasn’t always fully aware or in control of her own feelings, and who dealt with so much grief and trauma in such a short time that it’s nothing short of a miracle that she eventually found her way back to the girl she’d been before, happy and sure of herself, and people just couldn’t recognize elena when she was happy so they decided she randomly changed when she became a vampire and it was All Damon’s and Delena’s Fault; stefan was a terrible boyfriend for most of their relationship; damon was wildly out of character for most of season 5; and the memory loss arc in s6 was pathetic and actively harmful to the show as a whole and especially damon and elena’s relationship and perception in fandom; oh, and tyler and elena had an amazing and horribly underrated friendship that should have gotten a lot more focus than it did. (i’m still mad tyler was put on a bus so much rather than allowed to be like, present in the lives of his only remaining friends lmfao.)

#rorykillmore #asked #anti tvd #elena gilbert #delena #MEEKS THIS IS YOUR FAULT #I WAS GONNA GO TO BED #INSTEAD I SPENT AN HOUR AND A HALF WRITING THIS #apparently there are depths to my salt mines i had not yet reached #i don't always get mad about tvd bc i've totally moved on with my life of course #but when i do #i drink eat sleep and BREATHE that salt #and dos equis i guess

43 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 1 month

Text

youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

17K notes · View notes

kolbisneat · 5 years

Text

MONTHLY MEDIA: October 2019

The spoooooooooookiest time of year is wrapping up but I’m not ready for it to go! Time to pop in A Nightmare before Christmas. Also this is how I spent the month of October.

……….FILM……….

Hotel Transylvania (2012) & Hotel Transylvania 2 (2015) Both are fun movies with killer animation and those music/pop culture jokes that immediately date them. I wish these were a little more evergreen, but I do appreciate how much further the animation was pushed in the sequel. It also does the dance-number thing that I’m just too old for.

Hocus Pocus (1993) It’s been yeeeeeeears since I watched this and I don’t hold much childhood fondness for it (Billy Butcherson was peak fear for me) so it was nice to find that this holds up well! The musical number, the animated cat, the jokes, they’re all far better than they have any right to be for a roughly 25 year old film.

JOKER (2019) I’d read enough glowing and scathing reviews going into this that I really wasn’t expecting much. The cinematography and soundtrack are both excellent, and it really got the spirit of the character in the third act. It really did follow the origin story format and while it’s new to see this be applied to a villain, I’m not sure I needed it in my life. I also really just want a fun Batman movie, you know?

……….TELEVISION……….

GLOW (Episode 3.04 to 3.10) Another fantastic season. It struck a good balance of tying up loose threads while still having a clear vision for the final season. Just such a good character drama. I’m interested to see if there’s more wrestling again next season, but I really wouldn’t mind either way.

American Horror Story: 1984 (Episode 9.01 to 9.06) Okay so I’m only half watching this while my partner watches it (I play my Switch beside her and accidentally look up at the goriest moments). The aesthetic is great and the music is fun. The plot also seems to be fairly coherent so far, even if I’m only half paying attention.

……….READING……….

Tea With a Black Dragon by R. A. MacAvoy (Complete) I picked this up from a thrift store knowing very little about it. It was super light on fantasy but was a fun, albeit dated, technology-based mystery.

The Children’s Home by Charles Lambert (Complete) It’s tricky describing this book. It’s almost surreal and the story feels secondary to the prose. It’s not the type of novel I typically pick up but I’m glad I did. It follows a recluse as he takes in children that start appearing in and around his home. I think it’ll be one of those books that I didn’t love reading, but will stay with me for a long time.

The One Hundred Nights of Hero by Isabel Greenberg (Complete) Simply wonderful. The story follows two lovers and the stories one tells to protect the other. It’s romantic and heartbreaking and each short story has that fairytale vibe (charming yet full of danger). The art is equally fantastic and really I can’t recommend it enough.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The IDW Collection Vol. 7 by Kevin Eastman, Bobby Curnow, Tom Waltz, and so many more (Complete) I think it would’ve been bold to wrap up the series after volume 6 but I understand the nature of the beast. With that said, I appreciate it took a little time to get to where it wants to go and it’s still a fun world. It also continues to really bog itself down with the plight of humans and I appreciate it grounds the world but ho boy are April’s family boring when compared to mutants, demons, and aliens.

Paper Girls Vol. 4 & 5 by Brian K. Vaughan, Cliff Chiang, Matt Wilson, and Jared K. Fletcher (Complete) Reading two volumes in quicker succession turned out to be a good decision. If anything I’d recommend waiting until all 6 volumes are collected and read that, if you can. It’s been such a wild ride and I really hope they stick the landing in the end. Excellent so far and highly recommend.

Superior Spider-Man Vol. 5 & 6 by Dan Slott, Ryan Stegman, Giuseppe Camuncoli, Humberto Ramos, and so many more (Complete) What a great series! The themes of the series are a little looser towards the end (in favour of a big, bombastic climax) but it still works. Or maybe it just doesn’t hit you over the head with it (there’s maybe one throwaway line by the main villain that ties it all together so it’s easy to miss). I’d love to see this collected as well and also recommend to any Spider-Fan with some established understanding of this world’s characters.

……….AUDIO……….

Cavern of Secrets (Podcast) This has been on hiatus for years and now that it’s back, I realize how much I missed it. Solid interviews and having a Canadian host is always nice.

……….GAMING……….

Maze of the Blue Medusa (Satyr Press) Oof we had a player get both arms crunched in an accident and it’s still affecting the group. As they delve deeper they’re discovering how dangerous the maze can truly be.

A Red & Pleasant Land (Lamentations of the Flame Princess) The group wandered into a settlement and had A LOT of questions answered. Like the last 10 sessions were a blur and suddenly it all came into sharp focus. I’m keen to see what happens next time.

Curse of Strahd (Wizards of the Coast) The party is nearly out of this haunted house and has defeated a sacrifice-made monster of unspeakable horror! Now for them to try to escape.

Breath of the Wild (Nintendo) Playing on Master Mode has completely changed how I play. As has the Korok mask and the hero’s path. Still so fun and rewarding.

And that’s it! As always, I’d love to hear recommendos for stuff to read, hear, play, and watch and I’ll see you in November.

Happy Thursday!

#Monthly Media #Rambles #Kolbisneat #Andrew Kolb

21 notes · View notes

magpiedminx · 4 years

Link

From above : PSA on Britney Spears and the #FreeBritney movement for anyone that needs or wants more information on what is going on with her. It’s a fucking rabbit hole, so buckle up. A little backstory first. Britney was a child star starting at the age of 4 years old on Broadway, and then worked her way to the Mickey Mouse Club, and eventually the solo career we know today. Her career has been on autopilot her entire life. If you look back at her music, she’s been telling everyone for years she’s too controlled and treated as a product if you listen to the lyrics of most of her hits. Examples include: Lucky, Overprotected, My Perogative, Circus, Piece of Me and Gimme More. Her music videos, social media posts, tour props and photoshoots regularly show her in a cage or in chains. If anyone has ever seen videos of her when she was younger, you’d know her REAL singing voice is very similar to Christina Aguilera’s. Her record label didn’t like it, as they were both on the Mickey Mouse Club and about to release their debut albums at the same time. So they had her voice retrained to sing in the baby voice we all know today because they believed it to be more iconic and would create a brand and career for her instead of her real voice. It’s unhealthy, and it’s been destroying her voice over the years, thus why she is known for lip syncing. She wanted to make an acoustic type pop album in 2006 titled Original Doll and reinvent herself using her real voice. The album was shelved and cancelled once her label realized she would be singing in her real voice. She isn’t allowed to sing live because she will either fail terribly, or she’ll have to sing in her deep voice that she isn’t known for. Her entire career she has been treated like a product meant to sell. Now, for the real tea. Everyone remembers the 2007 meltdown. Everyone. Leading up the meltdown Britney was going thru a public divorce, had two children under the age of 2 at the time and was VERY much the focus of the public. We all saw her on every magazine cover. We all also saw the photo of her with one of her kids on her lap while driving. Go on YouTube once and look up ‘Britney Spears paparazzi’. You’ll watch her be chased and followed by hundreds of them, even trying to get into a public restroom to photograph her, videotaping her in tears asking them to leave her alone, and even filming her thru the windows of an ambulance while she was naked being taken away for her final mental health hold. After the public meltdown, shaving her head, locking herself in her home with her children, speaking in a british accent on regular basis, wearing the imfamous pink wig everywhere, and shopping naked, she was hospitalized twice. After the hospitalization, her father petitioned the courts to be a TEMPORARY conservator to her until she was mentally stable and for only one years time. 2 months after her hospitalization she did a guest appearance on How I Met Your Mother. 6 months after her hospitalization, she drops the Womanizer video and starts to promote her new album Circus with its worldwide tour that grossed $131.8 million. If she’s so unwell, why did she start working right away? Her father after one year petitioned the courts for the conservatorship to become permanent due to her ALLEGEDLY having EARLY ONSET DEMENTIA in her TWENTIES. It passed and has been that way ever since. For 12 years to be exact. Now for everyone that doesn’t understand what that means let me break it down for you. Britney Spears is a now 38 year old woman who is not allowed to do the following without her fathers permission or he can legally lock her up in a mental health facility: • drive a car • vote • get married • have children • spend HER OWN MONEY • see how her money is being spent • see her children (she has 30% custody of both of her boys due to her dad assaulting one of her sons) • leave her home • hire her own lawyer • have any control over her career • speak about the conservatorship publicly • do interviews that aren’t scripted and all final cuts are approved by her father as well • use a cell phone without being monitored • use social media unmonitored • contact ANYONE without being monitored or having them extremely vetted. (Iggy Azalea allegedly had her house searched for drugs top to bottom when they collaborated on a song together) • go shopping • go for a walk • get Starbucks A conservatorship is meant for people with mental health issues or decaying health. Most likely grandparents or people with actual dementia etc. They are meant for people who literally cannot take care of themselves. If she is so unwell that she isn’t mentally capable of doing anything for herself, why is she still working? Since the conservatorship began 12 years ago she has: • released 4 albums • done 3 worldwide tours • did a FOUR-year Vegas residency • was a full time judge on X-Factor • released multiple perfumes and a lingerie line • made $138 MILLION DOLLARS or so A YEAR In January of last year, Britney was placed in a mental health facility for 3 months after being seen driving her car to In-N-Out with her boyfriend without permission and for refusing to take the sedating medications her father has doctors prescribing her to keep her under control. She testified to a judge in documents that she was held there against her will by her father. After it was leaked to the press that she was there against her will, the Free Britney movement picked up speed causing a judge to open an investigation into the impact and legality her conservatorship has on her life. Britney’s mother Lynn was also liking and commenting on Free Britney posts saying she agrees that Britney is trapped by her father. Britney’s team had Twitter disable the Free Britney hashtag, and regularly threatens any celebrity that speaks out using the hashtag with a lawsuit if they don’t remove their support for the movement. She was seen shortly after leaving a hotel thru the front door (99% of celebrities park underground to avoid paparazzi unless they WANT to be photographed) stumbling while carrying her shoes, and out of it. Her team used that moment to justify to the public that she needs this conservatorship. She is not allowed to have any say in the hiring or firing of anyone on her team. Every year she pays $1.1 million dollars in fees for the conservatorship to continue, including paying her father a solid $100k+ salary and paying a lawyer she isn’t allowed to choose. She is allowed an allowance of around $1,500 a week for bills, shopping and essentials. Her net worth is $250 million. So, when everyone sees her on Instagram walking up and down her hallways like it’s a fashion show. That’s all she is allowed to do. She has NEVER had control over her life. I don’t care if you personally like her or her music, NO ONE DESERVES THIS. All this woman wants is to see her children, make the music she wants to make, and go get a frappuccino in her car. She is a light of sunshine in this world, and we must protect her at all costs. So please, do not make fun of her, support the Free Britney movement, and send good vibes her way. She has a court date this month to review the conservatorship and decide if it is abusive or will continue to be in place. There are so many details to this that i left out that would make this post entirely much longer than it is, but a simple search will show you what else is out there. Spread this far and wide. ❤️ Free Britney Edited to add some important links! Here’s a google doc of info https://docs.google.com/document/d/17jeZV78SCwgQGsOkad0H0PA8jqjgRsxgSqD9f_f1yAk/edit Petition by Danny H: https://petitions.whitehouse.gov/petition/conservatorship-and-civil-liberties-britney-spears Screenshots of leaked emails, voicemails, and other helpful links: https://www.businessinsider.com/inside-britney-spears-conservatorship-freebritney-movement-2020-2 https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2019-09-17/britney-spears-conservatorship-free-britney https://www.forbes.com/sites/trialandheirs/2019/05/15/making-sense-of-the-britney-spears-conservatorship-and-freebritney/#5ce808c94b74 Jayden going on Instagram live reporting they were being abused by his grandfather: https://theblast.com/c/britney-spears-son-jayden-james-instagram-live-video-free-britney This is a news article from USA Today about her father’s child abuse allegations filed by Kevin Federline. He reportedly had an altercation with Sean in September 2019: https://www.google.com/amp/s/amp.usatoday.com/amp/2362531001 Source from the opposing view pointing to the success of her conservatorship and that fans are wrong, I think it's weird she has made no formal appearances to contest the conservatorship in court but she said (link above) we were not being told the truth and the media is being manipulated: https://www.usatoday.com/story/entertainment/celebrities/2019/10/24/britney-spears-why-does-she-still-need-conservator/2288009001/ There's a lot of money at stake to keep her in this situation. Just seems too convenient that she can't care for herself considering her net worth, and considering the fact her male counterparts of equal stardom with public mental health battles have never been under this much control. This is an issue and question of abuse in conservatorships at large. Unfortunately, the princess of Pop has somehow become the poster child of this type of crisis. While conservatorships can be beneficial when the best interest is at heart, we can't ignore the fact there are companies that profit enormously from people with disabilities by keeping them under extensive legal control. Are they providing the best care? If Britney has been too unwell to care for herself these past 12 years, why would she be made to work tirelessly? World tours? Vegas? X-factor? Her perfume line? Why not let her rest? Here's a good excerpt from Forbes, it's just not clear what is going on, but my initial gut thinks there is something that is not right. "In this case, Jamie Spears did not have legal authority to force Britney into treatment or to take psychiatric medications. But that doesn't mean that Britney's reported claim that she was held against her will is wrong. Rather, because Jamie has so much control over Britney's life through the conservatorship - including decisions like whether to get married, to perform or live in Las Vegas, or even if she can drive a car - he easily could have refused to grant consent for Britney to do any number of things unless she agreed to his request to enter the mental health treatment facility. In other words, Jamie could have indirectly forced her into treatment even if he could not explicitly sign her in against her will. But, even if Jamie Spears did so, he may have done it out of an earnest believe that Britney needed the treatment. TMZ previously reported that Britney was not doing well and her old course of medications stopped working, necessitating heightened treatment." Take what you will from this, but here are a few petitions to reinstate her rights in August is here - http://chng.it/CMfngqyMBj https://www.change.org/p/team-britney-freebritney

1 note · View note

amnachil · 4 years

Text

The College Society Chapter 3 Part 12

Here’s the next part ! One part left after this one for Chapter 3 !

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey Monday March 4, in France

"Dude, it's fucking okay. You're out of the water for god sake. Calm down"

They were almost at the hotel. Fuck this cruise. Fuck this trip. Fuck these guys. How the hell the fatty roommate managed to fall in the Seine exactly ? Well, to fall. This moron probably didn't go there all by himself. He looked dumb, but not that dumb. Anyway, the real question was : why he, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey, decided to bring him back to the hotel once they had pull him out of the water ? Why he, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey, the god among the hunters, was nice to the baboon's friends ? I hate my life. But I'm also so eager to see my fuckin' boyfriend. Damnit.

"I'm sorry." muttered the fatty roommate (what was is name again ?). "I ruined the day."

"Don't open this stupid mouth of yours to talk nonsense." replied the Dean's grandson. "You fell into the water, you had the fucking right to lose your shit. And these filthy assholes who laughed can go eat dicks in their mother's pussy."

The freshman looked at him with amazement.

"You sure are swearing a lot when Liam isn't around." he noted.

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey did not answer. It wasn't worth it. To be clear, yes he had spent a good weekend with his baboon's friends. Yes, they were good people. But who cared ? Yeah, this damned Nate had some sense of humor after all. Yes, Colton was a pure good heart built like a gigolo. And yeah, Nick (now he remembered his name) was a freakin' genius. But seriously, the best hunter wasn't here to make friend. Definitely not. They arrived at the hotel at that moment.

"Thank you." says the dark-haired lad. "I'll take a shower and I'll work with Liam on our group project. What are you going to do during this time ?"

"Don't know. Don't care."

He hadn't planned anything. He just went in France for the baboon, and he did not know what to do without him. I can't even believe I thought this. Am I really dependent on him now ? Quite pissed by is own stupidity, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey just left.

For a while, he just wandered in the streets, at least to calm down. I need to bang someone. He was tore apart between two opposed feelings. A rational part of him only needed sex. Another, stupid and weak, desesperatly wanted Liam. I'm like a fuckin' teenager. I hate it. Finally, he went in a nightclub with the hope to pick up a chick or two. French people knew how to make a good party. It was loud and noisy, but also very sexual. They had their own way to dance, more sensual, more appealing. At first, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey had great fun. And he found a guy more than eager to please him. They ended up in his apartment for sex. Trust me, you won't wake up after that. They banged in every corner of the flat. The Dean's grandson was so demading. Only he pictured Liam with him, and not this random dude. For god sake. The more he was thinking about the baboon, the hornier he was. He could feel his sweet and wide hands cuddling his body. He could imagine the contact of his strong chest. He wanted to stroke his soft belly. To squeeze his ass.

"Je suis rentré." shouted someone.

It stopped this stupid asshole who obviously wasn't Liam to continue. C'mon. You would not let me so horny, would you ? The idiot who interrupted them arrived in the living room. When he noticed them, he opened his mouth wide, like a big and really dumb carp. I saw him somewhere.

"You... You were with Liam last night." he said.

Now I recall. It was this bloody hell ex-boyfriend. Kevin, Kilian or whatever. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey understood he wasn't gonna get laid anymore tonight. He put his pants back, annoyed.

"Wait, before you leave... Can you tell me how is Liam ?" asked this blonde guy. "I mean, we didn't have the time to discuss yesterday."

The Dean's grandson scrutinized him. He was very tall, at least 1m90 (6'3"), and rather imposing. Well, I fucked almost the whole football team of my university, and some of them were bigger.

"Look, whatever you want from Liam, just forget it. He doesn't need any extra problem right now."

His bestfriend's situation plus his family, it was enough.

"It was just a question." mumbled the other.

"A stupid question."

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey didn't wait for an answer. He left this brat and went back to the hotel.

When he arrived, the baboon had already fallen asleep. Same for the fatty roommate. But Nate was waiting in the corridor, looking a bit weird. What more ? I'm done being the fuckin' shrink of everyone for today. But when he came closer, he realised the dwarf wasn't just a bit weird, he was literally crying.

"Bud'. What's wrong ?" he asked with a more gentle tone than he intended to.

"I... Sorry..."

Nate took a moment to calm down. He sniffed loudly.

"You weren't supposed to see me like this." he mumbled.

"Dude. I saw the worst part of you, this is nothing."

Honestly, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey did not care at all about this short guy. Am I, really ? He was just fooling himself, right ? I hate all these feelings which cross my mind. He never felt the need to help anyone, well maybe except Archie and Zack, and now here he was.

"It's harder than I thought." confessed Nate. "To be normal again I mean. I truly need a talk with Archie right now."

The junior sat down next to his friend (let's call him that way and fuck it) in silent.

"Thank you for having introduced him to me by the way. Archie helps a lot."

"Well he's experienced some rough stuff too." replied Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey. "And you shouldn't try to act normal after what happened. Whatever happened. You seems smart enough to know this wasn't a random accident."

A blank followed. Of course, Nate did not want to remember this dreadful night. Me neither.

"Look midget, I need to ask." grumbled the Dean's grandson. "I already know what we're talking about, but I wonder... Am I fuckin' protecting a criminal who did a truly stupid and horrible mistake ?"

Better that than a sociopath with very good acting skills... Nate remained quiet for a while. His eyes showed all his suffering.

"No." he finally responded miserably. "You're helping a weak, pathetic and unworthy person. An idiot as you say, who can't even protect himself. Who can't even take care of himself."

He started to cry again. Fuck this wicked world. Fuck these assholes who thinks they can do whatever they want without the consent of the others. I hate them so much. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey hugged the midget. It reawakened bad memories of a miserable Archie.

"You're not unworthy." he whispered. "And I will find all the help you need."

He dialed Archie's number. Thankfully, it was dawn back home and the quaterback replied. The blond lad gave him to Nate, and only when he was sure the boy was okay, he left silently. I'll have to talk with D.R about this one day or another...

Liam Tuesday March 5, in France

In other circumstances, the young lad would have enjoyed this visit of the economics departement. After all, he had a wonderful breakfast before, and he was feeling nice. But he sensed the force of evil everywhere. This morning, Nate wasn't feeling great, and he had stayed at the hotel with Dami. In the meantime, Liam and his group were supposed to work on their project. But it's like the Cold War. Nick was sulking. He still resented Rebecca, but he also seemed to dislike Barbara. The two girls were mean and they often mocked the poor major of their promotion. As for Colton, he tried his best to apease the tension, without any success yet. So Liam did what he did the best. He let his mind ramble. He imagined himself in a paradise. There were living pancakes everywhere. They begged him to eat them. (Liam is a nice guy, you all know that. So he kindly agreed to ate them.) (Ate them ALL). Nick brought him back into reality with a nudge.

"Now, you'll split into your groups." was saying their professor. "Students from the Economic College of Paris will guide you."

Liam followed his roommate towards a group of students, but he froze when he saw them. Tell me it's not happening. Why ? Am I cursed ? Kilian was right here, looking straight at him.

"My god. Kilian is that you ?" asked Barbara. "You have grown so much. My lord, you're so impressive !"

Their old classmate thanked her.

"It's nice to see you again Barb'." he said. "Liam."

Send help. Send help. Send help. (Liam knew his internal screams weren't helping at all.) (But maybe Dami would hear him ? His boyfriend could read minds, right ?).

"Okay, this is weird." intervened Nick. "Can we start the tour ?"

Kilian smiled.

"Of course. Follow me."

It was a true nightmare. An impossible situation. Liam was running right into his death. (Maybe not, but he always loved a bit of drama). What should I say ? What can I say ? He knew Kilian had left the United States after the... incident to go back to France. But what were the odds they would meet again here, in Paris ? I'm convinced this is an international scheme to destroy me and the unicorns.

"Dude, you're so tensed." murmured Nick. "What's the deal with your ex anyway ?"

Liam did not answer. He was truly panicing. Without Nate or Dami to support him, he was completely lost. And what if his new boyfriend discovered the story ? He'll hate me. He'll realise how unwrothy I am.

"I need to go. Far far far away. Right now."

He didn't wait for an answer. He wanted to avoid a panic attack.

Because he wasn't thinking clearly, Liam finally got lost in the building. A bit relieved to be alone, he sat on a bench and got his breath back. What am I supposed to do ? His mother never prepared him for a moment like that ! (He wasn't blaming her, but she could have anticipated right ?) (Educate your children to face their exes ! It's crucial !).

"Why did you run away ?" asked suddenly a voice he recognized (much for his displeasure).

Kilian looked curiously at him. (How he managed to find him ? Did a witch lead him here ?) His ex-boyfriend smiled softly.

"You know, I'm very surprised to see you here, but it's nice."

"What do you mean, it's nice ?" asked Liam, surprised.

"Well, we never spoke since... the middle of 12th grade. Since what happened. I never had the chance to thank you."

"To thank me."

Right, Kilian had lose his mind. The french food must have turned him crazy.

"I almost killed you with my stupid plan." recalled Liam. "I... I have been selfish, reckless and stupid. How come you want to thank me ?"

"You kiddin' right ? My parents blame you, but I don't. It wasn't your idea, but ours. And it was the first and only time someone wanted to take so much risk for me. I owe you Liam, for real."

It was too much for the chestnut lad. He wasn't able to come to terms with all that stuff.

"I thought..." he mumbled. "I thought you resented me. It's what your parents said."

"They lied to you obvious... Wait... you blamed yourself for what happened ? Oh man I didn't know you were putting so much on yourself. I'm sorry Liam, it must have been hard for you."

Hard for me ? He had been through hell with this story. The freshman couldn't think clearly. Everything he thought about Kilian was... false ?

"The others are here." whispered his ex-boyfriend. "Look, once this tour is over, I think it would be nice to talk. I can't tonight but maybe tomorrow night ?"

Liam only nodded, completely lost. Does that mean... I blamed myself for months for nothing ?

Barbara Tuesday March 5, in France

It was better than everything she had planned so far. Way better. She never expected Kilian to be here, in Paris. But this is a godsend. I will make the most of it. Catch Liam would be hard for her, but for his ex ? All she needed to do was to bring back them together for one night. One night and she would dethrone Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey. Afterwards, it would be chaos, and she would appear as a savior for the university. This is perfect.

"Your smile is so creepy. I kind of like it."

Barbara turned towards Matthew. He was almost living in their bedroom with the two girls. I'm glad they didn't have sex while I was here.

"I just came up with a good plan for my next move." she explained. "Soon enough, you'll be proud to be close with the queen."

He snorted.

"You mean, all of this was to be the queen of the university ? Oh man, that's funny."

"Why ?"

"It's nothing." he mysteriously replied. "Good luck girl."

She left one hour later. The short girl had done some research before. Apparently, Kilian had moved in France approximately one year ago, in the middle of 12th grade. Well, after this sad incident with Liam. He was living with his uncle, and was studying this year as a freshman at the local university. He had multiple friends, but no boyfriend in sight. Which meant he was avaible. Barbara also managed to find his adress, so she came right at his home. When he openned the door, she felt again surprised by his height. He is so tall now.

"Barbara ? What brings you here ?" he asked.

"Hey Kilian. I wanted to talk, in memory of old times."

And at first, they did. They lengthly shared memories. He was nicer, more talkative than she remembered. Well, his parents were beating the crap out of him, and the whole highschool bullied him. No wonder he feels better now. Eventually, she led the subject towards her main concern.

"It's nice to see you." she laughed. "I mean, I was already surprised when I met Liam at my university."

She glimpsed a shining light in Kilian's eyes. He wanted to talk about him. Nice. Maybe the story she heard from Jessy wasn't completly right.

"Yeah, it was quite a surprise for me too..."

A little blank followed. She sensed he wanted to add something. He was so predictable.

"I never wanted things to end like this." he whispered. "I would love to... come back in time. I missed him, you know ?"

"He missed you too." she revealed. "He told me."

A little lie can't hurt. Kilian didn't know she wasn't her friend anymore. He would trust her.

"Really ? It doesn't seem like that..." he mumbled. "I mean, he looks so paniced everytime I'm around. We barely had a normal conversation. He was so stressed."

You sure have confidence now. He was way more assertive than before, and it was kind of attractive. Liam can fall for that.

"Well, it's... Look, I'm not supposed to say this but... Liam fell into the wrongs hands. There's a guy who uses him for sex."

Kilian frowned. Please, believe it. It was the hardest part of the plan. She needed him to trust this.

"Is this by the aggressive guy ? The one with scary eyes ?"

"Yes. How do you know ?" she wondered, surprised.

"He was here last night." explained Kilian with a bit of rancor. "He was having sex with my cousin all over the place."

Oh man. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey was playing against himself. That was so ironic.

"I think... the best way to help Liam would be to reveal what you're feeling." she stated. "You want him right ? As your boyfriend ? I'm sure you two will work together. Just tell him."

Kilian barely hesitated.

"Okay. I'll give it a try. I don't like him being exploited by this bad guy anyway."

And now, this is the fall of the king.

To be continued

Well things are escalating. Kilian’s in the place and it changes everything. What will happen to Liam and Dami now uh ? Will they escape the dangerous plan of Barbara ? We’ll see that soon :)

#the college society #cs #Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey #Liam #Barbara #poor Nick #that wasn't fun #Nate is talking about himself #he's a sad cinnamon roll #Liam and Kilian are talking #someone is up to no good #Chapter 3 #Part 12

2 notes · View notes

domiandsascha · 6 years

Text

The Sweetest of Heartbreaks

An emotional essay on Domi’s run at the Us Open.

Sport is the most heartbreaking of passions. Believe me, I've tried them all. I don't know how to be an average fan. I don't "like", I obsess. And even though I think being passionate is wonderful, I really wish I could tone my emotional investment down, because sport, and especially tennis, hurts more often than not.

The day after Arsène Wenger retired from Arsenal, a customer, devastated and unable to put his pain into perspective, told me "Sport is the most important of irrelevant things. It means nothing on the big scale of life and yet, it means the world. It's silly how sad I am, but I can't help it". Twenty four hours after the Madrid final, I could relate, big time, being way more upset than one should be following a tennis match. But as he had said, I couldn't help it. There's no way to rationalize the disappointment when your heart belongs to a team or a player.

Since the day Dominic Thiem has taken, unknowingly, full ownership of mine, I feel like I've been on a never ending rollercoaster ride. It's psychologically exhausting. Now, would I jump out of my seat if I could? No. Never. But I've been trying to protect myself in case of unavoidable nosedives. The most efficient seatbelt I've found is to lower my expectations to what I'm certain Dominic is capable of, based on current circumstances. Don't get me wrong, my faith in him is limitless and he will achieve greatness. But history has proven that a few things beyond his control can get in the way of his tennis abilities. And also, Hope is a perverse b*tch. So I'm being cautious and pragmatic. It's safer and healthier considering the irrational impact of Dominic's results on my wellbeing.

Therefore, two days before the beginning of the US Open 2018, my take on Dominic's chances would have cost me a few "And you call yourself a fan??" had I made it public. But let's face it. He hadn't won a single match on hardcourt since Indian Wells in March and he had just been injured, sick and through a heavy personal disappointment in Kitzbühel not too long before. So draw in hands, facts in mind and my arch enemy Hope silenced in the basement, I set my expectations to what I knew Dominic could do: reach Round 4 and defend his points.

I watched his first game against Basic on my phone, a great friend of mine face-timing me from Grandstand where she was seated, sixth row. I couldn't really follow the points, seeing only Dominic and a third of the court on my screen, but I understood he had broken his opponent, playing flawless and lethal tennis. So Hope got rid of her gag and yelled "OMG! He's going to have an epic US Open!". I shut her up. "Don't you start!".

He won easily, but struggled against Johnson, which I had seen coming after Steve's epic run the previous week. Dominic did it the hard way, probably harder than he could have. He drove me to turn off the stream at some point and to fear a premature heartbreak. But he did it and reinforced one of my certainties: he was born for five setters and epic battles. Then came the match against Fritz. Dominic lost his cool, which I like to see, even though I maybe shouldn't. And not only did he play great tennis, he also displayed, once again, his unbelievable sportsmanship, advising Taylor to challenge a call on break point. A friend told me "Domi shouldn't do that. He's too nice!". And I thought "Oh, he should. Always". He didn't become my favorite player because of his backhand or his deep runs at the French Open. He's my favorite player because he's a gem of a human being and I'll forever value kindness above all qualities.

And there we were. Round 4. Points had been defended. Personal expectations had been reached. Facts in mind once again -their head-to-head, the surface and Anderson's current form-, I allowed Hope to come back in the leaving-room but asked her not to be too loud. Winning this one would be difficult, but it was possible.

Before the match, I tweeted "May our boy play his best tennis and enjoy himself". That's all I've ever wanted. That's why the finals in Madrid and Paris had been so painful and hard to recover from, despite the pride from watching him reached them. Because Dominic hadn't enjoyed his time on court and had left both tournaments thinking he could have played better. So yes, if he had to lose against Kevin, I was hoping he would do it in style.

Two hours and thirty-five minutes later, at 5-2 in the third set tiebreak, I was bawling my eyes out, both my hands pressed against my chest, overwhelmed and dizzy, but feeling so light I could have flown away. This, right then, this rush, this very instant, was the reason why I would never jump out of the rollercoaster. That was the point when the train reaches the top of the highest slope, when your heart starts racing, as you know what's coming, but you let go of the security guardrail and raise your arms, because you feel a hundred percent safe. I was feeling so safe. I didn't think for one second I should silence Hope. "It's not over til it's over!". It wasn't hope. It was over. It had been over from the moment Dominic had broken Kevin in the first set and it had made no doubt from then. It might have taken a fourth set, but ultimately, Dominic would have won this match. He was playing his absolute most clever and efficient tennis and he was having the time of his life doing so. Up to the very last point, he showed the full extent of his skills and his reaction after his amazing final shot increased my life expectancy by a decade.

During the following forty-eight hours, there was no way to silence Hope. It didn't matter that Dominic had to play Rafa next. Feeling this safe is too rare, I had to make the most of it. So I was walking down the streets, grinning like an idiot, day dreaming he was going to beat Djokovic in straight sets on Sunday evening and lift the trophy. There was no stopping him, there was no stopping me.

The morning of the match, I tweeted "May our boy pull off the upset we all know he's capable of". And the reason why we all knew it, was that Dominic had made it clear he knew it too. Everything he had said in interviews was screaming fierceness and willpower.

I've explained it at the beginning, I set my expectations to what I'm certain Dominic is capable of.

So at 2am UK time, Hope sat right next to me in my chair and I hugged her tight.

The first set was a surreal experience. It was mesmerizing and more satisfying than any set of tennis I had ever watched. But somehow, it was terrifying. It felt like one of those dreams, where everything is perfect, but a tiny part of your subconscious is aware you're asleep, aware the dream might end or turn into a nightmare at any second. Dominic was flawless, his tennis was spectacular and he wasn't playing against a diminished opponent. Rafa was being outsmarted, outrun, outgunned and it was all about Dominic's genius. But still, such a score line was abnormal.

A year before, to the day, Dominic had won an opening set with a score line that felt abnormal. The circumstances were way different, but it was impossible not to think about it. I don't believe any Dominic fan has fully recovered from this heartbreak. I know I haven't.

Oddly, I would have felt safer if Dominic had won this first set 6-4. He was playing Rafa, a man whose ability to recover, adapt and start fresh has been proven to be the best there's ever been. I couldn't help but picture a beast, which had just been deeply provoked and was about to attack, with all it had. So I was smiling, still, of course, but biting my nails and glancing at Hope who was really confused and had no clue what to do.

And indeed, Rafa recovered and adapted, but Dominic didn't falter. He didn't get scared. He held on, he kept fighting, kept painting lines, kept producing mind-bending tennis and kept believing. So I kept believing too. Until he lost the third set. I switched off my laptop. The commentator on Amazon Prime had just said "I feel like Thiem deserved to win this set, considering the terrific tennis he's been playing" and that's exactly how I was feeling. Dominic was maintaining an unbelievable level and still, it wasn't quite enough. So would anything be? Hope had left my place and discouragement had taken over. And even though Dominic looked nothing but discouraged, I was too exhausted to watch him fight in vain. The idea of seeing him lose three sets, after that miracle of an opening one, was unbearable. Cruel and heart wrecking.

I went to bed as dawn was glimmering through my curtains. But of course I couldn't sleep, of course I couldn't let go of my phone for more than three minutes in a row. Of course I was following the score and reactions on twitter. I knew Dominic was still battling with a mental and physical strength that was about to go down in tennis history. And I felt guilty to be hiding underneath my duvet like a coward. To have given up when he hadn't.

When he won the fourth set tiebreak, Hope stormed back into my room, turned the lights and my laptop back on and glued me to my chair. She had never seemed so dangerous and perverse. I could foresee the violence of the shock, should this specific ride end up in a wall after so many ups and downs. It would be painful. Really painful. But this time, something was different. This time, I was protected by a brand new kind of seatbelt, I was snuggled in a cocoon of pride and gratitude. After four hours, Dominic was still playing his heart out and he was turning mine into a colorful and sweet substance that wouldn't break, no matter what. Watching him save breakpoints by the shovelful, throw winners left and right, keep his focus and his cool, show so much resilience, all the while being an absolute angel towards everybody on court, was a dream come true. Except this one was and would remain a hundred percent real. Nothing could erase it. No outcome could stain the joy of witnessing Dominic achieve greatness.

Dominic was Great.

The fifth set tiebreak began and Hope tried to hide underneath the table. I pulled her back next to me and smiled. Whatever was about to happen, to Dominic and to my heart, we would face it together.

At 3pm, I went to work, having slept two hours and a half, my fingers skinned from all the biting, my throat hitching from all the nervous cigarettes smoked, my stomach aching from the amount of chocolate swallowed frenetically. My colleague and good friend greeted me with a sad face and a comforting hug. But he quickly took a step back and frowned "How are you so cheerful??". He had just seen the score line. He just knew Dominic had lost. He had no idea how painless this heartbreak was.

Yes, my heart had cracked, despite everything, when Dominic had hit this final overhead wide. Tears had filled up my eyes and a rush of bitterness had shaken my entire body. I had cursed the "fifth set tiebreak rule" out loud, because it had felt so freaking unfair that, after such a fight, a single mistake on serve could be decisive.

But then, there had been this hug, this proof of Rafa's respect and affection. A respect and affection earned through years of rivalry and sportsmanship. There had been Dominic's peaceful acceptation while he was still on court, his smiles to the umpire and the crowd, something about his face whispering to my ear "He's okay, he will be okay". The standing ovation and the praising headlines already pouring in on social medias. His press conference, turning the whisper into a loud promise "He's okay, he will be okay".

And finally, this long overdue consequence: the world falling in love with Dominic. He was finally given the credit he had always deserved, as a player and as a person. He was finally seen for who he is: a man with an arm of steel and a heart of gold.

I was cheerful, because I was happy beyond words, still snuggled in my cocoon of pride and gratitude.

Writing those lines, a week later, I'm still really emotional about it all. That's why I needed to set it down on paper. So I never forget. So the next time tennis feels like the most heartbreaking of passions, I'll remember how fulfilling it also is.

Sport is, indeed, the most important of irrelevant things.

In a world that's constantly shaking underneath our feet, it is an anchor. In a life that goes so fast it can consume our feelings and leave us empty, it is an inexhaustible source of raw emotions keeping us alive.

I don't know how to be an average fan and I'm not planning on ever trying. Because I'm lucky enough to have chosen someone who makes every twist of the ride worth it.

Thank you, Dominic. From the bottom of my heart.

#dominic thiem #us open 2018 #helene writes

23 notes · View notes

soluscheese · 6 years

Text

Understanding Sam in Season Eight

Part III: No Escape from Reality

[I] [II] [III] [IV]

Greetings! It’s Sam time again!

Remember, this meta has NO NEGATIVITY OR HATE. That’s not how I roll. ❤

Also, the purpose of this meta is to make Season 8 Sam more clear for people that may not necessarily be Sam stans, because if you don’t connect to him on a deeper level, it makes it very hard to understand him sometimes. Hell, even then it can be difficult! He hides his true self - that’s just how he is.

Something to note: I will not be covering stuff that obviously happened. This is about the Sam stuff that happens between the lines or under the surface.

Something else to note: Just because a character feels a certain way does not mean it is justified or even that what they are upset about is even true. It just means that’s how they feel - no more, no less. Feelings don’t have to be based on fact, and often aren’t.

We all good? OKAY THEN, META TIME!

Anyhow, Sam just got back to the cabin, searching for his future, only to find something else there instead.

Dean. Dean’s alive, somehow, and he’s here. Sam’s not alone anymore, and he’s just so happy.

But then, the moment is over.

Dean’s angry at him.

After all, from Dean’s point of view, he’s been in Purgatory, in a war zone, waiting for Sam to figure something out while he tried to find his own way to escape. Sam would come through for him right?

But instead Sam did nothing?

From his point of view, Sam just dropped him like an old shoe and left him to rot for a year to go play house.

But that’s not true, is it? Yet that is how he feels. And Sam doesn’t bother to really defend himself. Why would he? Sam’s always been hard on himself. In his mind, Dean’s right, somehow he should have just known he wasn’t in Heaven, should have just known he was in Purgatory, should have just known where to look to find out how to break him out without Bobby or Cas or… well, anyone’s help. After all, he left his brother to suffer.

Hell, he still feels guilty about this years later.

Then it gets worse.

Kevin. He’d just left him. Sam doesn’t fight or defend himself from these either, you can see the pain on his face, both from Kevin’s situation and Dean’s disapproval. He let them both down. Again.

Sam feels like that’s all he can do anymore. But, they’ll fix this, right? Help Kevin, hunt a bit, do everything in his power to please Dean, and that will make everything okay.

Not that it doesn’t mean he can’t still pursue his dreams.

Sam still wants a future, wants a life. Not one separate from Dean - he still deeply loves Dean - but one where he’s more independant, where he helps Dean, but not necessarily where his whole identity is wrapped up in hunting. A future where he can be his own person. Hell, he doesn’t even think Dean wants him around.

Dean’s probably better off, probably happier without him. Dean’s fine on his own, anyway. He’s The Man without Sin.

But then… there’s a snag.

Dean’s palling around with a monster. I’ll say that again. Dean Fucking Winchester is palling around with a monster. Dean if you’ve ever killed someone, you deserve to die Winchester.

Dean doesn’t “pal around” with monsters. So what does this Benny want from him? What scheme is he trying to pull? Why is Dean hiding his calls and not telling Sam about him at all?

Because, if you will recall, the last time a Winchester pal’d around with a monster, hiding calls, keeping secrets about them…

It didn’t end well. This is Ruby 3.0 over here, having done something to Dean to trick him into trusting him.

So Sam responds the same way Dean did back then.

Seriously, replace “Benny” with “Ruby” and it smells like Season 4 all over again - there’s even that bit of jealousy that Season 4 had, too.

Suddenly, Sam’s dreams are put on hold. Dean’s safety is more important. He’s not going to lose him to some vampire.

He convinces Dean to not really see the vampire anymore, but Sam still keeps tabs on this Benny, keeping track of where he goes, of any blood-draining that may or not be happening around him.

And he gets a hit.

So he sends someone to make sure. But who could he send? Can’t send Bobby, or Rufus, or Ellen, or Jo, can’t send Garth, he’s taking care of Kevin… who has he got? He searches for anyone he can call a favor in for - he needs to make sure it’s Benny doing this and not someone else. So he gets to the bottom of his small rolodex.

Martin. Sure, whatever, he’ll do in a pinch, he just has to make him promise to just watch and not do anything.

And then he gets a hit.

The other shoe just dropped. Benny’s finally slipped up, and now maybe his grip on Dean can loosen. Whatever Benny’s got on him, it’s all over. He can set Dean free.

And he did.

Sam saved him. He stopped Ruby 3.0. Dean’s free, he’s safe.

But then, months later, Sam discovers something.

Benny is… amazing. He’s not evil at all. He’s kind and gentle, loyal and trustworthy. He’s good. He’s everything Dean wants from a friend.

It figures, right? The one time he protects Dean from someone, it’s from the best friend he’s probably ever had. Benny’s everything Dean wishes he was. Hell, Benny’s everything Sam wishes he was.

I mean, “Dean” has even called him a vampire, when the reality was far worse.

What have I done? He’s a vampire and I’m still more monstrous than he is.

All I do is let Dean down.

Not that he vocalizes any of this. Dean already knows I’m just a fuckup that ruins everything.

But that’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.

Because Sam’s going to make it up to him.

TOOOOO BE CONTINUED - STAY TUNED FOR THE FINAL PART! Don’t worry, things only get worse from here!

[I] [II] [III] [IV]

#spn meta #spnmeta #supernatural meta #supernaturalmeta #samedit #my work #my meta #meta #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #benny #final part coming soon!#IT'S SAD GET EXCITED

60 notes · View notes

okimargarvez · 6 years

Text

THE MISSING PIECE

Original title: Il pezzo mancante.

Prompt: mistery, action, hacker.

Warnings: A.U., OOC.

Genre: romantic, action, mistery, friendship.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, BAU team.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot.

Legend: 💏😘👓🔦🐶🎲👻.

Song mentioned: none.

Translated by my lovely sister of delirium @theshamelessmanatee ❤

The Missing Piece- Masterlist

MY OTHER GARVEZ STORIES

THE MISSING PIECE - Part 2

-What? Me? In danger?- she protested. -I need no bodyguard!- unfortunately she had no choice. This is why he was standing at her door waiting to enter. He wasn't in a formal attire: a plain white shirt and a pair of jeans. He had with him a little shoulder bag in which she was sure he was hiding his gun. But she tried to not think about it, actually she tried to think about nothing at all. - I told you I don't need protection.- she said even if she knew she already had lost that battle. He smiled back at her as he entered the apartment. The place was as colourful as its owner: there were little things and puppets and posters everywhere. It looked more like an art installment than a proper home. -I prepared the couch for you- she said showing it to him. -tell me if you need anything else...- she started heading towards her bedroom but he stopped her.

-But it's early. Would you like to take me company?- he proposed with one of his brightest smile. She looked away.

-And what you had in mind?- Luke was thinking about a couple things he couldn't say out loud. So, he shrugged and watched as she closed the door of the bedroom behind her.

He was sure he'd have a sleepless night ahead of him, so he was really surprised when the strange ringtone of her phone woke him up. He tried to listen for a moment, feeling bad about it but it was his duty. He couldn't hear anything clearly, just some random words but as soon as he heard a broken cry coming from the opposite side of the door he knocked -Everything ok?- he asked but she didn't answer.

-Miss Garcia, I'm coming in...- silence again. When he opened the door, she was sitting on her bed hugging a pillow. Without the bold dress she was wearing in the morning she looked younger and fragile. She raised her head from the pillow to properly look at him and he noticed the tears on her face.

-What are you doing here?- she tried to look strong. He walked closer to her instead of replying.

-I heard you crying...something happened?-

-It was the clinic... Flick...- she sobbed -...he was really old, but he seemed to be better and then...- Luke realised she was talking about an animal of the clinic. -It's nothing. you are probably thinking I am stupid... I am really...emotional...- she tried to smile. Luke didn't think she was stupid. Without a word he got closer and hugged the woman letting her head rest on his shoulder. He had always been bad at consoling people in his job, not knowing what to say or do when they were crying for a lost loved one in front of him. But in this case, he wanted to be there for her. He caressed lightly her back as she cried. He couldn't believe she was responsible of Lynch's disappearence, couldn't believe she was an enemy to capture. He couldn't believe she was acting now.

Finally, after a while, she calmed down. The clock showed it was 3 a.m. -You feeling better?- he asked, formal attitude long gone. She nodded.

-Yes... I know what you are thinking: I sure did love Kevin so much if I couldn't cry for him and here I am, drowning you in my tears for an old dog.- Luke looked down at the wet patch on his shirt and shrugged because he didn't care.

-Everybody suffer their own way... they say.- he smiled at her trying to lighten the mood. He knew he should go back to the couch, but something told him to not leave her side.

-Will you be able to sleep?- she didn't answer. -Do you want to go to the clinic?- he noticed that they were still hugging.

-No... there is nothing I can do. Doctor Smithson called me because he knows how much I care about our animals... Flick had no family, no home, he was our mascot.- she smiled sadly.

-Are you a vet?- he knew she wasn't, he had read it in her file, but he was curious to hear her answer.

-Oh no! I have a degree in computer technology but… some circumstances prevented me from using my knowledge and since I love animals...- she shrugged.

-Good night then, or almost good morning.- it was close to 4 a.m. now.

-Good night Luke.-

-I forgot to tell you last night that you shouldn't go to work for your own safety until we solve the case...- Penelope shot him a judgy look since she had just finished to get ready, make up and all.

-And what I should say to my boss? They want to kidnap me but I don't know why...do you think he is gonna pay me anyway?- she rolled her eyes and left the room to make a long phone call. When she was back she had an enigmatic look in her eyes -Problem solved.- she said ironically. -What now?- Luke had an idea but again it would have been not professional to say it out loud.

-My teammates will do anything to find Kevin, but you must be real honest with me- she scrunched her face like a kid and Luke tried to not smile. -you haven't told me everything. And I haven't been totally honest to you too.- Penelope was surprised and worried by his admission. -I am not here only to protect you. We know about your past and the reason why they are after you. We think Lynch was just a decoy to get your attention not the real target.- she didn't say anything but she turned paler. -The name black queen rings any bell?- she buried her face in her hands and then gestured Luke to sit down.

-Ok. I am a hacker. This is what you wanted to hear? But I still don't know why someone would kidnap me..- she was lying. She blushed- Ok, I know why. I was one on the most dangerous people on a CIA blacklist... but that was a long time ago.- she sounded like she was telling the truth. -Oh my God it's my fault, if something bad happens to Kevin...- she bit her lips to stop from crying.

-Hey hey listen to me. It is not your fault, anything that can happen would not be your fault...- he grabbed her shoulders trying to calm her down but in the hurry of the movement her jacket slipped down a little revealing a bruise. They looked each others in the eye as she tried to convey silently the same argument of the day before. At the same time, he received a text. He let her go to look at his phone.

Evidence of abuse at Lynch's. He wasn't the little angel we thought. News?

He decided to not answer the message. He tried to look at Penelope from another point of view: those bruises couldn't be caused by her clumsiness. Kevin bit her. Probably regularly. He wondered how she managed to have kept her own home for so long, to have kept some sort of independence from him. Only thinking about it made him mad.

-What happened?- she noticed something was wrong

-Why didn't you tell me he was beating you?- he grabbed her arms and revealed the several bruises and cuts she had on them. -Penelope you can trust me.- why was he saying something like that? If their roles had been reversed would he trust her?

-Of a fed?- she tried to compose herself and withdraw from him. -If you think I make Kevin disappear because he beat me, you are wrong.- her tone was terribly bitter. -You have no idea about the situation.- she adopted the formal tone too.

-Then tell me.- he got closer again. Penelope looked scared.

-No. You wouldn't understand and... - she shook her head- if you want to arrest me just do it.- she changed her behavior, showing her wrists. Luke grabbed them only to take her closer -It'd had been better if we never met.- she whispered but Luke heard it.

-Penelope what else are you hiding from me? There is something that scares you, I can see it in your eyes..- the blonde tried to look away -Do you know who took Lynch?- she then looked him in the eyes.

-No... but I have an idea.- for a moment he couldn't concentrate about anything except of her kissable lips -Please, Luke, I don't want you involved in this. It is dangerous.- who did she think she was talking to? Did he have a gun and a badge for nothing?

-I am already involved.- he said in a small voice, before touching her back and giving her a clear idea of his intentions but letting her pushing him away if she didn't want to. That was completely wrong. Firstly, she was a potential victim or perpetrator in an open. Anyway, she was involved in an open investigation. Secondly, she was the girlfriend of one of his coworker. But said coworker was hurting her and tossed her in some obscure mess with very dangerous people, if she was concerned about Luke being involved too. He thought that her lips were as soft as her voice and her eyes. He would never let anything happen to her. Something about her have attracted him since the beginning. A fragility hidden behind a thousand shades.

He had never done something so crazy before. Always in time, always respecting the rules, never cheated, not even in elementary school. And now he had fucked up in the worst way possible, like in a low badget soap opera. He fell in love with the woman he must protect and suspect at the same time.

His phone ringed again. Recognizing the number he answered -Alvez.- Penelope looked at him still a little shocked from what had happened. -How? You wouldn't believe...ok.- he closed the call annoyed. -They are coming to take you. The proofs of the physical abuses are a motive to make you a suspect. They are gonna still you until they can.- she noticed him referring as his coworkers as they were strangers. Like he didn't agree with them. -Without a real evidence they can't do anything.- he caressed her face, trying to give back some heat and colour to it. -Listen to me Penelope, I won't let anything happen to you...- but she wasn't listening anymore, shaking her head like in a trance state.

-They are gonna kill me. They are gonna kill me.- she looked shocked. -I didn't do anything to Kevin.- someone knocked at the door. She grabbed his hands desperately. -Luke, do you believe me?- everything was at stake in his reply. His future, his career...

- Yes-

#garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #penelope x luke #luke x penelope #garcia x alvez #alvez x garcia #criminal minds #cm #au #the missing piece

9 notes · View notes

panticwritten · 6 years

Text

Breaking Furnace Book One: Lockdown

Chapter 4: Friends Don’t Let Friends Lose Prison Fights

I’ve had to change quite a bit of formatting to post this on tumblr because I am a fiend when it comes to using different fonts and tools and junk in my writing. If you want to read this chapter with its original formatting, you can do so here.

Table of contents!

All of my writing!

Remember that this is a daydream taking place in the Escape From Furnace universe, so keep that in mind if you haven’t read EFF.

Word count: 4835

Triggers for this chapter:

Unreality

NAZI imagery

Graphic(ish) violence

Death

NSFW (on the same level as a still-life model is nsfw)

Body horror (sort of)

Always willing to tag new triggers, if needed.

Chapter 5 will be up Jan 26th at 7pm PST.

If you like what I do here, maybe consider buying me a Ko-fi or checking out my Patreon! I love being able to put so much out for free, but this would be a great way to show support and also see cool new content!

~-S-~

Alex and Zee, stop me when I leave the trough room. I try to greet them with a grin to let them know that there weren’t any problems, but I’m not sure how successful I am.

“You were supposed to go to your cells,” I say, more as a formality than anything. “If there had been a lockdown, you could have been stuck down here.”

“You know we can make it up, no sweat.” Zee laughs uneasily. “What were you doing in there, anyway?”

I laugh, not so uneasily.

“Letting the Skulls think I was seducing their leader.” Or actually seducing their leader, depending on how you look at it. “No sweat.”

“I thought we were trying to ally with them,” Alex says.

I beckon them to follow me across the yard. It’s too open out here.

“I challenged Kevin to a fight.” They look even more worried now. “Whether I win or not, it means the same thing—protection and communication.”

“You will win, right?” Zee clarifies. We arrive at my cell, and I pause at the threshold.

“I might.”

They both start an argument at the same time, and I sigh.

“Look, I put certain limits on the world this time. I'm just a person if I can’t concentrate.”

“Does Kevin know that?”

I frown at them both. “Are you two worried about me? Or yourselves?”

They exchange glances.

“We can protect ourselves. Kevin can be a monster, and if he’s expected to act like one…” Alex looks away, and I follow his gaze to see the Skulls trooping out of the trough room behind Kevin. When he looks back, I give him a tight smile.

“Don’t forget who I am, Alex. I’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t look so sure, but I decide to let it lie. I can’t deny that even I’m pushing my trust in Kevin to the absolute breaking point.

I sweep my gaze around the yard and sigh, drained. “I’m gonna go rest up.”

“Lockdown isn’t for awhile, I don’t think,” Zee says, giving me a worried frown.

I shrug. “I know. I’ve got a trick or two up my sleeve to keep unwelcome guests out.”

After some more debate, they leave and I enter my new home.

The cell itself is about the size of my bathroom at home. A toilet, metal and starting to rust, sits affixed to the wall straight ahead. The bunk bed jammed into the far corner doesn’t look very reliable.

I shake my head and look back out through the bars to the yard. There’s no better time to do this than now, I guess.

With a sharp exhale, I breathe out an illusion, a shield between my cell and the yard. As far as they can see, it’s an empty room. Looking out, the world warps slightly, as if I’m viewing an aquarium exhibit. As if I’m not part of the freakshow.

I shove the thought from my mind and vault into the top bunk. Some sleep will do me well. It’s been a long day, only made longer by my meddling with time. Then there’s the nectar. The weight of it here is starting to get to me, like a recovering addict in a meth house.

Not that I’m really recovering. I’m here after all, and that means that I’m back for more of that filth. The essence of it in the air here is so thick that I can almost taste it.

Gazing at my hands, I hold on to the humanity I still have. This version of me has never had nectar, even if I remember the thrum of it. I wonder how long it will take me to ravage this body.

My track record isn’t good, so it’s best not to ponder it.

I turn my eyes to the inmates milling around in the yard. They don’t even realize what’s happening beneath their feet. Oh, they know something’s wrong. They have to know that the Warden, the suits, the wheezers are all wrong. But they don’t know just how bad it is, the experimentation, the death, the evil.

I catch sight of Connor on the other side of the yard, talking with another inmate. He looks annoyed, and I try to imagine what they could be talking about. As I lay down, as close to the wall as I can, I wonder if he was right.

Maybe this isn’t healthy.

~-S-~

I sit in a cell, looking out. This isn’t Furnace, the world outside a brightly lit hallway. The cell itself is smaller, empty save for myself and a foul odor.

No, this isn’t Furnace.

It’s a dream.

I stand, legs weak and shaky, and press against the bars to peer into the darkness. The opposite wall is lined with doors, and I recognize it as the cell blocks back in the Cube. Stepping back from the bars, I cross my emaciated arms.

This isn’t a normal dream borne of the nectar. The feeling of calm, while unsettling, isn’t what I would expect from my first night in the prison. This isn’t a view that I ever wanted to see with my own eyes, looking out from this side of the cells.

No…

I cock my head to listen, freezing as the ghostly wail floats through the hall. The voice is unfamiliar, and I disregard it after a moment. These dreams are nothing more than memory, there’s nothing I can do.

After a moment, the image flickers. The light disappears, and I blink until my eyes adjust. The cell stays firmly around me, but outside a spiral path twists up and connects my cell to countless others. Each of the other cells hold several children.

Ah. This is more like it.

Between each cell, on the other side of the room, a red banner hangs with a swastika emblazoned on each. Now we’re back in the memories that the nectar favors. I grimace and turn away.

There are several other kids in my cell now, all unfamiliar and all pleading. None of them seem to have the strength to stand, so I kneel alongside them.

It’s okay, I murmur. The words that come out, I don’t understand, but the meaning is clear. This isn’t the end.

Talking to the boys in the memory, I still feel a twinge of guilt about lying to them. Each of these boys will be dead or under the wheezers’ knife by the end of the week. I’m sure they can see the truth in my eyes, hear it in my voice.

Still, they cling to my arms with fingers as thin and fragile as twigs. I sit in the middle of this group, three little boys holding onto what little hope they have left.

Still, we hold each other when boots begin to thud up the path.

We hold each other when they stop outside of our cell.

Even as I’m being dragged away, the boys try to hold on. It breaks my heart, the question and fear in their eyes. Cold metal pushes against the back of my head. Even as the shot rings out, one of the boys’ voice echoes in the darkness.

This isn’t the end.

~-S-~

I shout out, the phantom pain the back of my head pushing me upright.

My skull makes contact with the ceiling, and I can’t hold back a curse. Slowly, as my heart rate slows and I remember where I am, I rub my head. The ghost of a hole in the back of my head fades, but the real pain on my crown still throbs.

Welcome to Furnace.

I chuckle, tired, and turn to look into the yard.

The only light in the prison is the softly glowing screen above the elevator leading to the surface. For all I know, this could be another trick of the dreams to send me spiraling further into Furnace’s hell.

Although I know I should sleep longer, I end up swinging out of bed and dropping to the ground before I can think better of it. The light from the screen would have kept me up, anyway.

I pace, running through the plan. I always feel like I’m forgetting something. The world could end, and I’ll still feel like I’m forgetting something.

I don’t know what plans Cross has, so it’s all up in the air after we break out. If all goes well, we should be back on the surface within five months.

If not, we’ll likely never see the surface before we end up back in the Cube.

After that, well…

“Hey.”

I jump, thrown off balance. A blacksuit sits next to my cell, his silver eyes fixed on me. I drop to the floor next to the bars and can’t help a smile.

“Hey, kid. What’s up?”

“Just checking on you,” he says. “We were starting to wonder if you were ever showing up.”

I smile but don’t respond. Many of them were happy with their life in the Cube. I told Connor to give them the option to stay there with the Scouts, but they chose this. I don’t understand it.

We chat for a while. I ask about the Scouts, but he claims to have been in the universe too long to remember any details. When he turns it around and ask if they’ve contacted me, I pull conversation back to the prison.

“Look, I need to tell you something,” he says, lowering his voice. “Down there, he’s doing something to the new recruits. Rumor has it, he’s trying to turn them against you.”

A weight settles in my stomach, cold and heavy. I sit in silence long enough for him to look back at me. I try to calm down. This is how the game is played after all.

“Is it working?”

“Not yet.”

I can’t suppress a sardonic laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but our mutual friend is an ass.” I rock back on my heels. “I’m done pulling punches. You guys deserve better than that prick.”

“So, you’re going to kill him?”

I don’t answer, standing and turning away. I chew the inside of my cheek, already drifting away. He seems to take my silence as an affirmation.

“I don’t blame you,” he says, his chuckle a soft growl in the darkness. “We’re all rooting for you. Good luck, Sawyer.”

I turn back fast enough to catch his wink before he turns away, and I wonder how he knows about my name change. Connor, maybe?

I wonder how else he busied himself while he was waiting for me.

Watching the suit go, I’m left in the cell by myself. I stare blankly at my bunk and wonder just what the hell I’m doing here. It’s hot, I’m underground, and everyone here wants to kill me.

What am I going to do when Cross gets his little experiment to work? I resume pacing, allowing my fingers to itch at my forearm. There really isn’t anything I can do about it for now. It’s not a problem.

Until it is a problem.

I climb back into my bunk to put together ideas on how best to end my brother’s life. From here, there isn’t much I can do. An inmate in his prison, he could choose to kill me at any time.

After thinking on it, I make up my mind. I allow myself a laugh, the sound becoming a shocked squeak when the lights suddenly come on. Jolting upright, I smack my head against the ceiling a second time.

“Shit!” I hiss, pressing the heel of my hand against my throbbing forehead.

Still, I heave myself out of bed. I only have to wait a few minutes for the bars to rattle open.

I almost leave, but I hesitate with a glance at the bed. I’m just a little worried that someone will target me and ruin my stuff. They did it to Alex, after all, in the original books.

When I turn around, Kevin stands in the doorway. I start, more surprised than anything. Isn’t his cell on the fourth floor?

“How fast did you have to run to get down here?”

He ignores that, nodding to someone out of sight. Two Skulls step in front of my cell, and I sigh. “These'll make sure you don’t slip outta our match, sweetheart.”

He flashes me a wicked grin and leaves, the others staying in my doorway. I watch him go, brow furrowed. He’s getting really into this charade.

The two cronies don’t move when I start for the cell door, and I pause. With a swift glance, I appraise them. They still don’t move.

I smile.

“If you don’t move, I’ll be forced to move you myself.”

They exchange glances and smirk. Still, they stay in place. I sigh and shrug.

My hand twitches, and they crumple to the ground as one. Their eyes glazed, they struggle and fail to find their feet.

“You shouldn’t underestimate anyone in a place like this, you know.”

I catch Kevin watching me from the door of the trough room when I start over there myself. I don’t acknowledge anyone while I grab a tray.

This time, I successfully acquire a meal.

I do my best to force the sludge they call food here down my throat. It makes me think of runny Malt-o-Meal, so it tickles my gag reflex more than a little.

The two boys I floored are just entering the mess hall as I stand to leave. I feel them glowering at me, but when all three of us find ourselves in Room One of the chipping halls, I note with satisfaction that they find a place on the opposite side of the room with their picks and hard hats.

I fantasize about breaking Cross’s face in while I work. No one tries to start shit, thankfully, so I’m able to stew in my own head until the standing guard calls for the ed of the works day.

I have no idea how much rock I cleared, but the anger lingering from the assault leaves my throat thick. I need to control myself.

I don’t realize how sore all of this turns my muscles until I have to stop. Trying to use my arms for something other than swinging a pick at a wall? No thanks.

Still, I fight through it and drag the thing back to the equipment racks. On the way, I roll my shoulders and try to work the kinks out of them. By the time I abandon mu equipment and enter the shower rooms, my arms and back almost feel normal again.

If I can excuse the underlying ache in my entire body, that is.

I always forget about this part when I decide to come here. The communal showering part.

The room is an open space nearly identical to the chipping rooms we just left. Red walls, red ceiling, rough around the edges in every sense. The only differences are the drain fixed in the middle of the floor and the water sprinklers overhead.

I can feel eyes on me as I shed my paper shoes and throw them into the corner with other crumpled bits of clothing. I steel myself, swallowing every anxious thought I have, and my overalls quickly follow the shoes into the pile.

There’s a wolf whistle and gloating mutters, but no one comes closer than a yard to me. They must be too scared of Kevin and the Skulls to risk approaching me.

While I’m grateful for that, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m left naked in a room full of teenage boys that haven’t seen a titty in years. I keep my arms resolutely crossed over my chest.

With a hiss, icy water cascades from the ceiling. The cold sends a shock through my body, but once I get used to it, it’s a godsend. A drink of lemonade on a hot day. A swim in the middle of summer. A nice shower after hours of work.

I’m enjoying the spray, tucked into a corner, when I catch sight of Connor across the room. He’s talking with one of the boys Kevin told to keep an eye on me, not looking particularly amused.

Then he shoots a shocked glance at me and laughs. The boy looks taken aback, and that quickly morphs into irritation. Connor can’t seem to take the conversation seriously anymore, and the boy eventually walks away.

Connor looks at me as if sharing a joke and shakes his head.

The moment the water stops, I step into the first clean set of overalls I find, now that the dirty ones have been replaced. I half expect Connor to come find me when I enter the yard, but he walks by without a backward glance to join several Skulls at a table.

Something about Connor wearing the Skulls bandana feels wrong. I loiter next to the opening to the chipping rooms, watching him. His sandy hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it, falling down his back past his shoulders even with the cloth on his head.

He looks up, turning curious eyes on me for just an instant before returning to his game. None of the Skulls seem to have noticed. I shrug and move on, reaching out my awareness to brush his as I pass. He returns the gesture, though his voice doesn’t waver at all in his conversation with the Skulls.

I head for an opening in the rock just under the first set of stairs to the upper levels. It’s guarded by two inmates, but they don’t stop me. I brace myself before entering the gym, knowing what to expect.

The exercise machines must have all been moved to the side years ago, leaving a ring in the center. The rock has been worn down, stained a deep red by the blood shed here mixing with the firey dust lining the entire prison. The room is still empty, and I cross to the center of the circle. Bending down, I rest my fingertips on the dark floor.

I can feel the pain of the hundreds of inmates beaten bloody on this spot. If I try, I could probably feel the evidence of my own fights, the ones from other worlds. All of this hurt can’t be limited to this one. If all of these universes are connected by one place, I could almost believe this is it. I always thought it would be the island or the tower, but—

“Hey.”

I slowly stand and turn around to face Kevin. He only has one Skull with him, hovering in the doorway.

I don’t say anything, just stand in the center of the bloody ring. I'm too aware of my aching muscles, all of the weakness. I don’t know if I’ll last long in a real fight against him, and I don’t know if he knows that or not.

I step back, to the far end of the ring. He steps into it, motioning for his buddy to stay back.

A few others show up, but the first keeps them from entering the room. The newcomers are forced to watch from the doorway. Kevin seems to be waiting for the crowd to grow, which I can appreciate.

He wants a show. I’ll be sure to give him one, then. I put on an easy smile. Arrogant, self-assured.

“So, big boy, you still think this is a good idea?” When I slip into a confident stance, he does the same. Good. This would have been exhausting if I’d had to hold his hand through the whole thing.

“Pretty damn sure. You having second thoughts?” We’re slowly circling each other by now. I hope he’ll make the first move. I’m much better with defensive work than offensive.

A small timer appears in the corner of my eye.

He gives himself away somehow. A subtle tensing, or a change of expression. He doesn’t pull his hand back, but I can still feel the punch coming. The timer starts. In the split second I have to react, I make a decision. This is how it will go. It takes all of my willpower to merely throw up a shield of thought.

I don’t move.

My shield protects me from the worst of it. The pain, when his fist connects with my gut, isn’t that awful. I still double over, though, and he slams his elbow into my spine. I try to protect myself with another shield, but I can’t focus enough to make it form.

This one hurts.

I cry out, my mind racing for a way to salvage my pride and avoid obviously throwing the fight. The moment his hands leave me, he kicks me to the ground.

This is good, I tell myself. Barely two seconds into the fight and I’m already getting wrecked. I take a moment to assess myself internally and find that the damage is minimal.

Thank god.

I stay down, feigning groans of pain. The boys outside cheer in the background, feeding the static hissing in the back of my head.

I hear Kevin approaching. Slowly, calmly.

I take in a breath and focus. I can do anything if I can keep my fucking head. I visualize what I need to do, imagine it, run the reel over the back of my eyelids while I wait.

He stops.

Now.

I slam my hand against the ground, kicking out to sweep his feet out from under him. My momentum brings me stumbling to my feet.

I wait for him to scramble to his feet, then I catch him in the jaw and grasp his shoulder to keep him from reeling back. He has just enough time to realize what I’m about to do and start to twist away.

He’s too late.

I swing my knee up to kick him between the legs. I shove him back and watch him fall. He’ll recover, and it’s his choice whether this continues or not.

I try to gather myself, but I don’t have time.

He comes up again, his stance still awkward. His nose bleeds freely, but he does nothing to stem it.

I shrug, smiling. “Haven’t you had enough?”

He grunts in response and rushes me. It’s sloppy, and I could easily trip him. Instead, I sidestep and push him square in the back. His momentum throws him out of the ring and back to the ground.

He gives me no choice if he’s refusing to actually fight.

I stride to him and plant my foot on his back. I lean down, whispering so the crowd can’t hear.

“Stop holding back.”

I clench my fists, then loosen them. This is the choice I’ve made. This is the way it needs to go. I hope it’s the right thing to do.

The moment I move my foot, he jumps up swinging. I block it and counter with an uppercut to the stomach.

He cringes, coughing, but he takes advantage of my occupied hands before I can really recover. He takes the opportunity to jab me in the throat.

I stumble back, retching.

Fuck, that hurt. It distracts me enough that I don’t notice his fist until—

Flashes of light blot out my vision.

I realize that I’m on the ground, and this confirms it: It’s over. My shields still won’t come up, the static filling my head until his next strike seems to come out of nowhere.

In a moment of panicked delirium, I wonder if it hurts to kick someone so many times with paper shoes. It has to, right?

I think he’s saying something, but I can’t hear him. The ringing in my ears diminishes before he finishes, though, and I hear the crowd cheering. He nudges me onto my back, smirking.

“Looks like you’re mine, sweetheart.” He doesn’t wink. He doesn’t give me any sign. I guess I deserve this for egging him on so much. “What? No jokes? Nothing?”

He kicks again.

It brings a little life to my mind when the shield I try to throw actually absorbs the hit.

This boy has no self control, and he gets carried away so easily. I wonder briefly if I made the wrong choice. I glance at the timer, grimacing at the blinking 38.47 seconds. Such a short fight, and I’m a mess. I split my lips into a weak, bloody smile anyway.

“You’re such an ass,” I mutter, barely loud enough for him to hear. I don’t think I could speak louder if I tried. His face twists into one of anger, and he moves to kick me again.

“Kevin.”

He freezes.

I slide my gaze over to see that Connor has pushed his way into the gym. His eyes are hard, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“What do you want?” The bloody boy demands without turning.

“What did I tell you?” Saying nothing more, he watches him steadily.

Kevin slowly lowers his foot and steps away from me. As the crowd outside begins to dissipate, I struggle to sit up. Connor shoves past Kevin and kneels at my side, pressing me back down.

“What did you do?” I ask, cringing at the blood filling my mouth. That’s not right.

“I told him that he wouldn’t survive the week if you can’t stand at the end of this fight.” He smiles and cups my cheek with one hand, his other lightly resting on my stomach. His eyes go out of focus for a moment, then he sighs in resignation. “You’ll need to fix that.”

“It’ll be fine. I have something to tell you,” I murmur. “It’s important.”

He hushes me before I can continue.

“Later. You have to deal with the consequences of throwing the fight. Dummy.” He pats my cheek and stands.

He calls for the remaining Skulls to clear out. He looks back once before leaving me alone with Kevin again.

Kevin paces near the door, and I watch him warily as I slowly sit up. My head spins, blood is still trickling down my chin, and my body feels like a disaster zone, but I can still move. I’ll be fine.

“Did you really throw the fight?”

I narrow my eyes, trying to focus on Kevin. He’s stopped pacing, watching me now. I wipe my mouth and stare at the blood on my hand. I need to find out what Connor saw in there. After a moment, I look back at him.

“Yeah.” I give him a tight smile before spitting out a glob of blood. “You still won. Just make sure you keep your end of the deal.”

He takes a step toward me, but I raise a hand and he stops. I chuckle weakly and rest the same hand on my midsection. Pain lances up my sides and I have to force myself to calm down.

“Oh, shit,” I hiss, probing my awareness around my organs. I find a few ribs cracked, one broken, and… “My liver's bleeding, hang on.”

Kevin watches in horrified fascination as I phase my hand into my abdomen. It takes a minute for me to find the rupture and run a healing finger over it. I do the same with my ribs and slowly check for other damage I may have missed, but I don’t find anything.

Everything is fine.

I pull my hand out and wipe most of the blood off on my overalls.

“That’s crazy.” I can hear the uneasiness in his voice before looking and seeing it on his face. I shrug.

“This is nothing.”

I spit more blood out and wipe any remaining grossness off of my face with a sleeve. With this done, I heave my aching body upright and stride forward to stop directly in front of Kevin.

I put on a demure mask when I look up at him, reaching a hand out to cup his face. I catch a hint of a flinch, and it makes me smile.

“It’s time for you to go brag about your victory and for me to slink back to my cell. Enjoy this while it lasts.” I pause, patting his cheek. “Boss.”

#writing #my writing #bf #sawyer #connor #tw: naked bodies #tw: graphic violence #tw: body horror #maddart #bf writing #the collective

2 notes · View notes

nickireadstfc · 7 years

Text

The Raven King, Chapter 16 - I Got Scars, They're Multiplying

In which Neil needs protection, hugs, soft kisses and everything good in the world, and Riko needs to die in a fire pit.

Sounds good? Then it's time for Nicki to read (and finish) The Raven King.

Here we are. Last chapter of The Raven King - and what a wild ride that one was. We saw more plot than ever before, more sass than we could handle, and more gut-wrenching shock than we liked.

Let's finish this off, shall we?

[Neil] rubbed his eyes with gloved hands and regretted it immediately. The gloves hid his bandages but did nothing for the pain.

So apparently, Neil wakes up in the airport - with no memory of how he got there, but instead with a body that feels like it had a nice time fighting with a lawn mower.

Only that the lawn mower had twice the usual amount of blades, was extra mean, and could also, like, spit fire or something.

Also, Neil lost.

For a moment, Neil was baffled that [the airport gate announcement] wasn't in French. He'd spent so much time with Jean he'd forgotten any other language existed.

Neil is also weirdly confused at the absence of Jean. Having spent two - three? - weeks metaphorically chained to each other does that to you, probably.

I still don't like Jean, just so clarify that from last chapter. Maybe he grows on you some more next book and then I'll see the light, but so far, I don't know. I see him as a clear victim of the Ravens total fuckery, I have pity for him, and I find him an interesting character because of his dynamic with Kevin, but he is still kind of a douchebag to me.

I'm sorry. I wanna like him. He just hasn't given me much reason to yet.

Neil, (occasionally) smart boy that he is, charges his phone and calls Wymack to get him - but not before having to wade through tons and tons of texts from the Foxes, which already made me a lil emotional.

Everyone, apart from Andrew of course, everyone texted him over the holidays. This is the kind of quality fox family shit I signed up for.

"I didn't know who else to call," Neil said. He barely recognized his own voice. The last time he'd spoken he'd been screaming; apparently his vocal chords still hadn't recovered.

There's shit like that dropped through this entire scene, shit that hints at just how much actual fucking torture Neil is coming back from right now, and I am decidedly not fucking liking it.

"Are you all right?"

Neil smiled. It felt like it tore his face open. "No. No, I'm not. I know it's kind of sudden, but can you come get me?"

Is that........ the first time......... Neil has admitted to not being fine........ ONE FOR THE BOOKS, FOLKS.

I mean, with so much painful shit done to you, you'd have to be a serious shade of fucked up, angsty and alone not to ask for help.

Which is to say, Book 1 Neil would have totally not asked for help.

Another exhaustion blackout later, Neil finds himself on one of his most frequented post-awful time places: Wymack's couch.

And Wymack, although keeping caring watch like a tattooed momma hen, is not here for Neil's bullshit:

"He sounds like Neil," Wymack said, "but he doesn't look like him. I'll take your explanation from the top and without a side order of bullshit, thanks."

What, did the injuries they gave him at the Batcave of Extra rip him an entirely new face?

The face waiting for him in the mirror was horrible enough to take his legs out from under him. (...) This was his natural hair colour, and those were his real eyes, and this was his father's face.

APPARENTLY, YES.

An entirely new face that looks exactly like his father. Oh shit. OH SHIT BOI.

At this point it should be pointed out how amazingly well-written this chapter is. Neil's pain-induced confusion and blackout, his anxiety, and most importantly his screaming, hurting body is tangible through the pages and that just gripped me.

I mean, it also gripped me because Neil is my beautiful sassy angsty adoptive son I need to protect at absolutely all costs, now more than ever.

But also because the writing is just damn on point.

Hey - remember how last time there was this tiny annoying voice that kept reminding me of something I'd seen time and time again in fanart and cosplay?

Wymack went so still Neil thought he'd turned to stone. "Neil, the fuck is on your face?"

Oh no.

Neil wasn't ready to see his reflection again. He was less ready to see the "4" tattooed on his left cheekbone.

OH NO.

I SAW THAT COMING AND STILL OH SHIT NO.

HELL NO.

By the time Wymack caught up with him he'd already pulled a knife from the wooden block on Wymack's counter. Wymack seized his wrist before Neil could take the knife to his own face.

Wow.

Wow, shit.

No kidding - to me, this little bit here is probably the most shocking and wtf-moment in this entire chapter.

Like. Not only does Neil want to get rid of that tattoo - which us understandable, we all would in his situation -, but he is instantly rady to take a giant ass kitchen knife and cut it out of his own skin without a second of hesitation?

What the fuck. What the FUCK.

This speaks volumes, volumes of what they did to him at Batcave of Extra, and I do not like one single thing about it.

Every time Neil blinked he remembered a little more of his Christmas vacation. Every time he moved he felt Riko's hands and blades and fire on his skin. he'd let Riko take him apart time and time again because it was the only way to survive, because bending should have kept him from breaking, but Neil didn't know if he could pull himself together one more time.

MY SON, MY BEAUTIFUL SHORT-TEMPERED ANGSTY SASS MACHINE SON, FUCK NO.

I MUST PROTECT YOU.

And then, immediately after - are y'all ready for the most heartbreaking paragraph in this chapter, because I am ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT:

Neil, Wymack called him, even when he looked like this, even with his father's face and his father's eyes and the Moriyama's number on his face. Neil, Wymack called him, and more than anything Neil wanted it to be true. He stopped fighting to get free; the hands that had been trying to wrench Wymack's arms off him now held on for dear life.

HE'S HUGGING HIM.

NEIL IS HUGGING WYMACK, KNOWING WYMACK WILL LOVE AND ACEEPT HIM NO MATTER WHAT, NO MATTER WHAT UGLY PART OF NEIL HE GETS TO SEE, AND NEIL IS HUGGING HIM, CLINGING, PROBABLY CRYING.

GUESS WHO'S NOT JUST PROBABLY CRYING.

IT'S ME.

"Help me," he said through gritted teeth.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Neil!! Is!! Not only accepting help!! But ASKING FOR IT!!!

[high-pitched incoherent emotional screaming in the distance]

Wymack, of course, is the Best Person Alive and patches Neil up without asking questions - which is an incredibly feat considering that Neil's body right now has reached new Deapool-looking heights.

On the contrary, it is now Neil who offers answers - after the finals, after the Ravens are beaten and have had their abusive sadistic asses handed to them, Neil will tell Wymack the truth. As in, the actual truth.

HELL FECKIN YES.

Wymack deserves to know All The Things.

"I didn't sign it," Neil said, looking up from his hands. (...) "He gave me a contract but I wouldn't sign it. He couldn't make me. This doesn't mean anything. I'm still a Fox."

Oh my god. This small "He couldn't make me" in there, brb literally burying myself in a pile of my own emotions.

They tortured him. They legit medieval-style full-on tortured him, and he still refused to be one of them. Even in pain so cruel it caused blackout memory, Neil still refused to give up his Fox family.

"He couldn't make me."

Neil, I have seldom loved you more than in this very, very moment.

And oh - it's almost New Year's.

He tapped out a simple "Happy New Year" to the Foxes. (...) The response was almost immediate. By the time the midnight countdown started on the screen (...), he'd already heard back from his entire team, most of them in capslock and with extraneous exclamation marks.

FOX BABIES

FOX FAMILY

He was their family. They were his. They were worth every cut and bruise and scream.

WOULD SOMEONE THINK OF MY FOX TEARS

Facing the Foxes on the court this spring would be the last mistake Riko ever made.

And if it isn't, I will personally worm myself into this fictional universe and smack him so hard his shitty sadistic motherfucker of a brain comes flying out his ass where it had been hidden, and he will die slowly and painfully of tragic brainlessness while I bound off to find Neil and give him the 24h cuddle session he needs and deserves.

Fucking hell.

Nicki out.

Hold on - before I leave, a quick note on how updates will continue:

Some time next week (don't know when exactly) I'll put up another review of the entire book, like I did for The Foxhole court. We're also looking at what predictions I made last time and whether they turned out to be golden bullshit or not, so stay tuned for that.

After that, in August this blog will take a hiatus as I'm travelling around a lot taking well-deserved holidays. (Canadian peeps: I'm invading your country! If anyone here lives in the Regina, Edmonton or Toronto area, hit me up.)

In September, we're back to our normal update schedule of twice a week (as long as life allows me to, as always), this time probably having All The Feels over The King's Men.

I can't wait.

And, on a last note: As always, if you like what I do here and you want to help me continue making this project, please consider buying me a coffee. Every little bit does help. Thank you so much! <33

#nicki reads tfc #trk #tfc #aftg #the raven king #the foxhole court #all for the game #nora sakavic #WE'RE DONE YOU GUYS #ONLY ONE BOOK LEFT #time goes by so fast wtf wtf wtf #as always I am THRILLED about asks messages and tags on reblogs #ily all #also I'm sorry about the headline #((im rlly not tho))#((I saw the opportunity and I took it))

114 notes · View notes

tailsbeth-writes · 7 years

Text

The Serpent Or Me - Part 6 (Bughead/Serpent!Jughead x Serpent!Reader)

Jughead has never cared about fitting in, as long as he has Betty and the gang he knows he has his place in Riverdale. However, Southside High has brought him an odd comfort and new friends very easily. The serpents have taken him under their wing, one in particular y/n has started to show him how things work in the gang. Jughead starts to grow a fondness for y/n that feels uneasy, he’s stuck between two worlds. Where or who should he choose?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Characters/Pairings: Bughead, Veronica, Kevin, Archie, (Mentioned) Serpent!Reader.

Warnings: Kissing.

Word Count: 2482

Notes: Hope you like the Riverdale action this week. Next part scheduled for 21/7/17. I’ll be ending this series in the next few parts, I’ll do three more at most. Thanks for reading so far!

Masterlist Read on Ao3

Betty’s POV

A booth at Pop’s is once where I felt safest. Now it was where my heart was breaking. All I wanted to know was that Jughead was safe and that y/n was doing her best to keep him so. I was too curious for my own good. I kept replaying the look Jughead had on his face over and over, he was so disappointed in me.

‘You okay Miss Cooper?’ Pop came over to clear the table. I quickly wiped away my tears and gave him the best smile I could.

‘Yeah, thanks. Just silly boy trouble.’

‘It’ll be alright, you want another milkshake? Might ease the pain.’ He replied sweetly. I gave a fake chuckle.

‘Thanks but I’ll be okay. I think I’m just going to go home.’

‘Okay, Miss. And don’t worry about the bill tonight.’ I gave him a graceful smile, keeping in the tears as best I could. He picked up our plates and went to the next table. I quickly put my jacket on and left the diner.

Ronnie: How did it go? I want all the juicy details about this mystery girl! Xo

Me: It was a disaster. I’ll talk to you Monday, I just want to hibernate in bed until then x

Ronnie: I’m so sorry B. Let me know if you need anything, I’m here for you

Monday rolled around, my alarm going off reminding me that I had to face the world eventually.

‘Betty, you better get up or you’ll be late for school.’ My Mom called from my doorway.

‘I’m awake.’ I grumbled, switching the alarm off. I sat up and checked my phone, Veronica and Kevin had texted me.

Ronnie: I may have told Kevin about Saturday, he was begging me for details. I hope you don’t mind, he hopes you’re okay. You coming to school? Xo

My Mom walked over and sat on my bed, she looked a little worried.

‘Have you been crying? Your eyes are so puffy.’ With Polly needing more and more attention, I’d managed to avoid talking to her about Saturday.

‘I’m fine Mom.’ I replied bluntly.

‘Okay Betty. If that boy has hurt you, I’ll-’ Her tone was angry, it was too much for first thing in the morning.

‘Mom, please. I’m fine. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get ready for school.’ I gave her a stern look. She stood up, her beady eyes never leaving me as she walked out the room. I checked the next text I had.

Kevin: Hey Betty, Ronnie told me about Saturday. Are you ok? I’m here if you need to talk. See you at school x

While I was a little annoyed at Veronica for telling Kevin, I would have told him anyway and at least they were now both prepared for the bad news. I got up and started picking clothes out of my wardrobe. I just wanted to get on with the week, if Jughead wanted space, that’s what I would give him. I could easily distract myself with the Blue and Gold and I was sure that Ronnie and Kevin would help me too. Deep breaths, it was going to be okay.

I got to school a little early and walked to my locker to find Veronica and Kevin waiting there, both their faces frowning at me.

‘Hey guys, how’s it going?’

‘Well I’m here instead of on a yacht in the south of France, so you can guess.’ Ronnie sighed.

‘I second that.’ Kevin added. He placed a hand on my shoulder, his head tilting to the side like a dog.

‘More importantly, how are you?’ I took a deep breath, trying to keep composure. I checked my watch to see if we had to time to chat before first period.

‘Let’s head to the lounge and we’ll talk.’ They nodded and we headed to the comfort of the student lounge, so many things had taken place in here. I remembered the first time Veronica announced me and Jughead were officially dating before we’d even had that conversation ourselves. He surprisingly didn’t freak out but I can remember the embarrassing tension as we looked at each other nervously. I longed for those normal teenage moments now, I was dealing with much darker issues now.

As it was so early, it was empty thankfully. We got took our usual seats on the couch and Ronnie and Kevin stared at me expectedly.

‘So what happened Betty?’ I glared at them sheepishly.

‘I may have got a little wound up, I tried not to but you know me. If I want an answer, I find it difficult to stop.’ They simply nodded at me, knowing that I needed time to explain.

‘So I started with the basics, asking her if she’d always stayed in Southside etc. Completely normal stuff. Jughead just let me get on with it. He seemed a bit off, barely making the effort. I just put this down to nerves, I mean his two worlds were colliding. Anyone would be nervous at that.’

‘Definitely. I’d be terrified if you guys were meeting my friends from New York. It would not be pretty.’ Veronica gave an awkward side eye as she sipped her coffee.

‘Anyway, I quickly got to the Serpents. Jughead had already told me she was one so I didn’t see the problem with it.’

‘Oh, B…’ Veronica stepped in, Kevin slow motioned face palmed. They both knew what was coming.

‘Yeah so there obviously was a problem with it. Jughead was so annoyed with me. But our food arrived and it was actually y/n who suggested we calm down and eat our lunch. But when we were done, I wasn’t any calmer. If anything I was more frustrated.’

‘So you asked about the Serpents again, didn’t you?’ Kevin asked rhetorically. He gave a sigh as I nodded at him, biting my lip.

‘I’ve never seen Juggie so disappointed. I keep seeing that face over and over again. Then y/n said something about Southside being his home now and that really tipped me over. That’s when Jughead had had enough and stormed out. Y/n went with him, she even said she was sorry and that she hoped we could meet again. That made me feel even guiltier. Juggie said he wanted space so that’s what I’m doing now, giving him space.’ I took another deep breath, feeling tears stinging my eyes yet again. Veronica put her arm around me and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

‘I’m so sorry Betty.’ Kevin put a hand on my knee, giving it a quick rub.

‘It feels nice to get that off my chest, thanks for listening.’ I gave them a little smile. I could get through this week, I coul-

Jug <3: We need to talk.

‘Who is it? Is it Jughead?’ Veronica questioned, peering over my shoulder as I read the text.

‘Yeah actually. He wants to talk.’ I looked at the others, slightly bewildered.

‘I say ignore him. You’re just doing what he asked.’ Kevin suggested.

‘Plus a little space might give you a bit of perspective too, it can’t hurt. Focus on the here and now, on our delightful Riverdale.’ Veronica raised an eyebrow at me mischievously. It was decided then, Jughead wanted space and if anything, I needed it. I gazed at the screen for a moment, reading over the four words. I couldn’t let him win, he needed to realise that I wasn’t the only one who had to apologise.

It was Wednesday when I started to crack. I sat in a bathroom stall and covered my hands in tissues. Some jock had made a comment about Jughead and my emotions came up to the surface like a volcano. I was ready to spill so I ran to the restroom. I’d cut through the skin and yet again my hands were a mess. I had been getting better, anytime I felt this way, Jughead took my hand and let me squeeze it instead. If he couldn’t be there, he’d place the most delicate kisses across my palms. He used to take the pain away and now he was the cause of it.

The restroom’s silence was interrupted by the clatter of heels and the sound of sobbing.

‘Veronica? Is that you?’ I called out. I quickly discarded the tissues into the toilet, flushing away the evidence. I walked out the stall to find Veronica hunched up in a ball on the floor. I grabbed some tissue and ran towards her. She seized the tissue from me, her mascara ran down her face. I sat next to her and put my arm around her.

‘What happened Ronnie?’

‘He dumped me. Archie dumped me.’ She let out between sobs. I cradled her, letting her cry.

‘I’m so sorry.’ I couldn’t think of any other way to respond. I held my friend and gazed vacantly at the floor. Riverdale was losing its pureness, one piece at a time. I felt anger boil inside of me, Archie was an idiot for dumping Veronica. But I had to keep composed, he was still a friend, a friend in crisis for that matter.

For the rest of the week, Kevin and I were planted firmly by Veronica’s side. We were all in pain and needed each other. When we would pass Archie in the hallway, I couldn’t help but scowl at him. I noticed Kevin look away, he maybe was too angry to look at him. Kevin was fiercely protective of his friends and in the short time she’d been here, Kevin and Veronica had become as close as we were.

It was Friday lunchtime and I was waiting for the others by my locker. My phone buzzed, I had yet another message from Jug. I hadn’t replied all week, but I couldn’t help but read his messages over and over.

Jug <3: Are you ignoring me?

Jug <3: I need to talk to you. It’s important.

Jug <3: I need to see you Betty.

‘Betty, can we talk?’ I looked up to see a tense Archie in front of me.

‘Wow, now you want to talk Arch.’ I spat back, I was still bitter on behalf of Veronica.

‘I’m sorry but I had my reasons.’ His voice was quiet, he couldn’t look me in the eye.

‘I guess I’m just confused. Veronica has been by your side, doing everything she can to help and then you do this to thank her?’ I couldn’t help but be blunt, I just wanted to shake Archie. I didn’t understand how he could do something so cruel at a time like this.

‘I just-’ His eyes widened, looking slightly past me.

‘I better go.’ He quickly walked in the opposite direction without another word, I turned around to find Veronica and Kevin pacing towards me.

‘What did that asshole want?’ Veronica asked straight away.

‘He wanted to talk apparently, I wasn’t in the mood to hear it.’

‘Good, I hope he knows none of us.’ She pursed her lips, I could see the fury in her eyes she was ready to unleash at any moment.

‘To lunch, ladies?’ Kevin chirped in, trying to distract us from the unpleasant tension. We nodded and walked to the cafeteria. I could feel my phone vibrating in my pocket again, I didn’t need to look to know it was Jug. He gnawed at my mind, I hoped he was feeling more apologetic than Archie.

I was thankful that the week had finally ended, I lay on my bed to try and relax. I looked at my phone, reading through all of Jughead’s texts.

Jug <3: Betty, please reply.

Jug <3: Can I see you tonight?

I felt like I’d had enough space, I wanted to reply. My feelings were ready to gush out of me. Everything was bottled up inside and with every day it was bubbling up.

I was knocked out my thoughts by a noise from the window, I looked over to see Jughead’s head. He hadn’t done this in months, I remember the first time he did it. It was super romantic, this time I wasn’t so sure. I walked over, giving him a frown.

‘Betty, please let me in.’ He whispered desperately. My hands took hold of the window and pulled it up, I barely thought about it. I needed Jughead back in my life. He climbed in, he was much more elegant now than before. I could see a little cut under his eye, fresh blood coming out from it. I stepped back to give him some room.

‘Jug, your face, you okay?’

‘Don’t worry about it Betty. Why haven’t you replied to my messages?’

‘Well you said you wanted space.’ I replied timidly, shrugging my shoulders.

‘Yeah for a day or so maybe.’ He stepped forward and tried to make a grab for my hand which I moved away.

‘I needed space too, space to think. Ever think of that?’

‘Have you forgotten that I actually know you Betty? You need everything out in the open, nothing left unsaid. It’s what I love so much about you.’

‘Fine then. Let me get this out. I know I need to say sorry but so do you. I barely feel part of your life anymore Jug.’

‘I know but I’m just trying to protect you. Don’t you get that? The less you know about the Serpents, the less you can be used and hurt.’ I stepped forward, taking the hand I’d earlier shoved away. His fingers fit in mine like they belonged there.

‘I’m sorry Juggie, I just miss you.’

‘I’m sorry too. So sorry, I’ve been a really crappy boyfriend, haven’t I?’ He let out a sigh, looking down at his feet. I stepped closer so we were inches apart.

‘Yes, but not the worst. I just need you to know, that I love you Jughead Jones, you need to remember that.’ He gave me one his rare smiles.

‘I love you Betty Cooper.’ I put my lips to his, he kissed back in an instant. His hand cupped my cheek, I’d missed his touch so much. It made me crave more, I placed one hand on his chest and one on his neck. My fingers perused the hair that escaped his hat as he pushed me back onto the bed. Our lips parted, he kissed me slowly down my neck. I let out a little moan. He smirked, our hands wandered around each other.

‘Juggie, don’t stop.’ I whispered.

‘I won’t, y/n.’ I suddenly stopped. Jughead backed away, his eyes growing wider and wider. I sat up, my blood was boiling.

‘Y/n?’ I asked quietly.

‘Y/n?’ I screamed at him. He stood still, looking like he’d seen a ghost. I think he was in shock. Is this what he was really ‘protecting’ me from?

Read Part 7 Here.

Series Tag List: @andywicked @crazyrabbitslaughing @pufflethehuff @letsstarsfalling @fiftyshadesofjug @leah5684 @erkouac @stilesneedsprotection @montse-marquez-almarcha

Riverdale Tag List: @jaib2-blog @bitemeorfightme @tori-dawn7

#riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fan fiction #riverdale imagines #betty cooper #bughead #jughead jones #jughead x reader #serpent!jughead #serpent!jughead x serpent!reader #archie andrews #serpent or me

172 notes · View notes